NationStates Jolt Archive

The High Monk Safanaj walked through the ancient halls of the Temple of the Northeastern Order. He looked out the windows, seeing the high, snow-capped mountains in the distance. Flowers grew along the halls. While the temple was old, 2200 to be exact, members had been sent out to acquire modern technology through the years. The temple's third scroll room had been converted to a computer room, and the scrolls moved to other ones. There was a small television, used when needed. The temple had evaded detection, hidden under an overhang of rock on the mountain it was on, from satellites. Isolation hid it from discovery by men.

He went to the entrance of the temple. "Son Panarag will be back soon." he thought to himself. "With the device."

He stood there, silently meditating. After a few minutes, he heard a bush rustle in the distance. "That must be Panarag." he thought. Just in case, he placed his hand on his sword, ready to draw it out. A man dressed in a similar, but not identical, to Safanaj, walked to the gate and inserted his sword. "Ah, Son Panarag, come in." "Yes, Father Safanaj. I come with the device." "Excellent. Let us now merge it with the thinking device."

They walked along together, chatting. They eventually made it up to a tower. They began chanting into a tube. While it could easily be replaced by a megaphone, the tube was sacred to them. The other monks assembled in the courtyard in the middle. Panarag and Safanaj walked out.

Safanaj whispered to Panarag. "You do it."

"Brothers and Sisters, Father Safanaj has honored me by asking me to to the Holy Chants." He paused for a moment "Order, Serenity, Strength. From the North East these flow. From the northeast flow, Strength, Serenity, order. We seek Order, Serenity, Strength. These things bind us, make us whole. We must be whole. We must have Order. We must have Serenity. We must have strength. We must turn to the North East." All the monks turned and faced the North East. "Feel the Order flowing into your body, taking all the salt that is the parts of your body in the ocean that is your body and moving them into perfection, into an more light state." They raised their arms, and made gestures with them. "Feel the Serenity flowing through your mind, making you at peace with the world. Feel the blocks of knowledge being placed through your mind, one by one, and bonding together, merging into the whole of your conciousness. Then, feel the concioussnes of you merging into the conciousness of the one." They made more gestures. "Lastly, feel strength entering your limbs and your mind, adding purpose, direction, and extra power to every thought, every action you make, just as a pole holds up a tent." They began flailing their arms around wildly. Panarag then hit a gong.

"I now announce that I have returned with the device, called by outsiders a satellite modem. What it does is let our thinking device talk to other thinking devices, no matter how far away they are, much as the one connects all concious thought. We now must decide what to call it."

The discussed for a few minutes, and then wrote their votes onto pieces of parchment. "The decision is made." said Safanaj. "I have counted, as is the duty of the High Monk, the ballots, and the vote is to call it a 'One Device'."

They bowed. "I will now fanaja (select to give an honor to) three of you to come with Son Panarag and I to the Thinking Device room."

He pointed, and the three monks stood up, as the others bowed.

They walked through the halls. Safanaj sat down, and took out the manual. "This is in a strange tongue. I believe it is French. Son Tajani, bring me the needed scrolls."

One of the monks ran off, and brought back the scrolls he requested. "No, this is not French. Perhaps... English?"

Tajani ran off, and got the English translation scrolls. "This appears to be it, Brother Tajani." said Panarag. "Yes, it appears to be so." said Safanaj. "Let's see. This is a 'plug and play' device. I wonder what that means." He read for a minute. "Ah. That means all we have to do is turn the thinking device on, and put this power tail (the wire) into this slot in the thinking device."

They put it in. Internet Explorer automatically launched. "Marvelous! Now, let us find out what we can do!"

They read for a few moments, and found the consequences grave of any further action on this 'internet'.

They walked back out, and told the monks that people would know if their thinking device did any further talking.

A heated (for the monks) debate arose. Eventually, it was decided to end the strict policy of no contact with the outside world. A message was sent over thinking machine messages (email).

We hail you, world! We are a temple of monks dedicated to the worship of order, serenity, and strength, and of course, the North East. We have been in isolation for 2200 years, and we now seek contact with the outside world. We have voted to end this, and that the time has finally come, through our thinking machine, we believe you call it a computer, and our one device, we believe you call it a satellite modem. We seek thinking machine messages, we believe you call it a email, from any nations or individuals interesting in following the path of the Northeast.

bump

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The Secretary on Foreign Relations had recieved a message through e-mail, going through his not-so-busy schedule of meetings as the Nation was only recently beggining to come out of Isolation, after a two-decade long series of Civil wars.

He decided that opening an embassy with this devout people would at least be in mutual benefit.



Dear peoples of the Northeastern Temple,

We in Tersanctus have recieved, and greeted your e-mail with gracious arms. Though it would seem that your isolation has left you naive to the outside world, and its ways.

We are willing assist you in learning its ways, and if your wish its technologies.

An open letter such as this, would leave you vulnerable too those would pose as friends, but would truly be foe.

We will send a diplomatic team at your convenience.

Micheal Manchester
Secretary on Foreign Relations
Imperial Republic of Tersanctus

Safanaj read the message. "Fascinating."

He began to type.

We are pleased that we have made contact with you. You can send a diplomatic team whenever feasible. We are approximately 5000 of your meters up Mount Ganeia, naturally on the Northeast face.

We are not naive, we assure you. We have retained one-way contact all along, sending a monk in every few years to bring back scrolls, technologies, and news from the outside world. We have merely chosen to reject some of the technologies of the outside world, like firearms or automobiles. We are not merely a spiritual and scholarly order, but also have a martial arts system that we can use to defend ourselves. Monks sent into the outside world have, when they have come under attack once or twice, proven it effective against even firearms. We thank you for your concern, nonetheless.

He then got up, and went to the metalworks. He saw Tajani working on a skama, the style of sword used by the monks. In appearance, it looked like a Japanese Samurai katana, but it was made with radically different metallurgy, out of an alloy of carbon, titanium, and a special ore found only in a special area of the mountain. They called this ore noreast, and it made up over 90% of each blade, although no two blades were the same.

"Son Tajani, I have made contact with a nation-state called Tersanctus. They are sending a team of diplomats to speak with us. I will call a meeting soon, but I want to present them when they leave with a skama to present to their leader. I know you are the most skilled in metallurgy, and I knew I would find you here. If you have time, make the members, or at least the leader, of the team a ji-skama or mi-skama for them. I'll leave it up to you based on the time and material you have on hand."

A Diplomatic team of Three Envoys, and three Templar Guards made their way up Mount Ganeia.

Aboard a CH-11 Transport Helicopter it thundered its way up the mountain, of course there was no landing pad, so They would make there way down with rappelling.

As they found a clearing, the six men entourage departed the chopper, via the rope.

"All right, according to the GPS, we are approximately 600 Meters south of the Temple." Said one of the Kungshaoist Templar, examining his equipment.

"Well, with the racket we just made, Im certain theyll send someone soon, but lets hike it anyway."said one of the Diplomats, wearing a pair of sunglasses, and a pilots coveralls over his quasi-proffesional suit.

"Agreed." said the second Templar, unsheathing, and sheathing his sword, and adjusting his H&K G36 auto rifle. "I just hope they dont take this weaponry as hostile."

"Ill explain it too them, I know their language." said a second diplomat.

"Well, lets go." said the Third Templar. Hiking towards there calculated destination.

OOC:What language do your people speak?

OOC: A unique blending of traditional Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese, Arabic, early Hebrew, Latin, Greek, Aramaic, and some unique elements.

IC: "That noise must be the diplomatic delegation. Let us hurry before they enter the bounds of the temple!" said Safanaj.

He, Tajani, and another monk named Zandis walked down hurriedly. By tradition, no person not completely following the Northeast Path was not allowed inside the temple itself. Outsiders were allowed everywhere within the large area claimed by the temple (Apprx. 5 square kilometers) except for inside the temple itself, in the quarry, and in the mine. A special building was constructed millenia ago to house visitors. It had not been used in some time, but had been fixed up for the guests. They had moved their small television into it, to make the guests feel at home.

They approached the visitors, and bowed to them. They then motioned for them to stop. Safanaj took out a scroll that was a message they had painstakingly translated based on Tersanctusan writings into the language of Tersanctus. He handed it over to them. It said:

Greetings. My name is Safanaj. I am the High Monk of this monastary. My long-standing tradition, that has not been used in quite a while, visitors may not go in the temple, our rock quarry, or mine. We apoligize if this inconveniences you in any way. We have, however, fixed up our disused guest building. If you will follow me, I can show you the way. We even put our one small television into there for your enjoyment.

Northeast Temple Reveals Itself!

Greetings. Now put your clothes back on before you get arrested.

WN

OOC: If you are speaking OOC, laws against public nudity are unconstitutional. Get over it.

IC: If you speak of our nude ceremony every twenty-two days, then we suggest you let us practice our religion, just as we let you practice yours.

OOC: If you are speaking OOC, laws against public nudity are unconstitutional. Get over it.

IC: If you speak of our nude ceremony every twenty-two days, then we suggest you let us practice our religion, just as we let you practice yours.

Ah, you have much to learn about NationStates - and Wombat News in particular - Grasshopper!

LOL,

WN

The Nation of The kevinngzh would like to extend a diplomatic offer. After all, your religion brings about great curiosity to some of our religion researchers.

LOL :lol:

I like the intro, very funny :wink:

Trix

OOC:

Wombat News, this is a new nation, but I am not a new player. I'm actually one of the oldest players on here.

The kevinngzh, I will respond to your email once Safanaj returns to the temple.

Trixia, some parts where meant to be funny, but most of it was not. What do I care, people like my posts!

Wombat News, this is a new nation, but I am not a new player. I'm actually one of the oldest players on here.

Hmm.

*goes off looking for other katana-wielding, nekked priesty-type culty thingies*

LoL,

WN

Salutations and well met, followers of the northeast path. A small diplomatic team has been assembled and dispatched to standby upon a stratofreighter already near your location; they stand ready to finish the journey, upon your confirmation of the invitation.

...

We hail you, world! We are a temple of monks dedicated to the worship of order, serenity, and strength, and of course, the North East. We have been in isolation for 2200 years, and we now seek contact with the outside world. We have voted to end this, and that the time has finally come, through our thinking machine, we believe you call it a computer, and our one device, we believe you call it a satellite modem. We seek thinking machine messages, we believe you call it a email, from any nations or individuals interesting in following the path of the Northeast.

Jeruselem Catholc Church ...

Bishop John read the strange email. He thought "I though we were stuck in the middle ages." and send back a reply.

From: Bishop John of Jeruselem (bishop.john@catholic.church.org.je)
To: <Whatever email address>

The Jeruselem Catholic Chuch welcomes The Temple of the Northeast Order to the modern world. As followers of Jesus Christ and the New Testament, we cannot follow the path of Northeast. However you are welcome to visit Jeruselem and discuss religion with us. Attached is an image of our nation (jeruselem.jpg)

Bishop John
Jeruselem Catholic Church
Acting Head of Jeruselem Catholic Church

Kanuckistan:

We are currently hosting visitors from Tersanctus. If you have no quarrel with this nation, you are welcome to come.

Jeruselem:

We have heard of this Jesus of Nazareth. His teachings are intriguing. You do not have to worry about any hostility on our part, the path of the Northeast teaches tolerance for those who are on all other paths except for the Southwest. We would very much like to, sometime in the future, visit your city and discuss these things with you.

Bryon Alsanza took the note, and read it.

He replied in the language of the northeast temple.

<"Very well, we apologize sincerely if we violated any customs of your in any manner. We understand the sanctity of certain grounds. We will comply with your wishes.">

He made a motion for the others too follow him, and explained the situatioin on the way.

Shortly after the message was sent in reply to Kanuckistan, a dark cloud apeared on the horizon; clearly large by the scales of man's creations, the flattened, dark grey cylinder rapidly aproached over the next few minutes, decelerating.

As it neared the temple mount, it's zepplin-like design became evident to those familiar with such - a ridged lighter than air airship lofted by helium aerogel, rather than the heavy metal and composite military stratocruisers - easily a kilometer and a half from end to end of cavernous holds wraped in the massive lifting blatters requiored to offset their potential cargo's weight.

As it massive vessel took up station-keeping several kilometers away from the mountain's side and the air turbulance common about all such peaks, a smaller craft could be seen lifting from it's upper surface; the small VTOL transport's solid-state ionic wind jets soundlessly carrying it aloft - another minute passing befor it nears the northeast face, pilots looking for a place to offload their diplomatic cargo; the Kanuckistani flag and the english words "Kanuckistani Diplomatic Corps" visible on the craft's side.

"Ah. I see you speak our language. Excellent. You did not violate any customs, if you see those large, blue stone walls over there, you just cannot go inside walls like those. All the other walls are not painted blue. That is how you can determine where you can and cannot go. I hope you will find the guest house to your liking."

They approached a cave. "Follow me. It is not as it seems."

They walked down about thirty meters, and then they came to a solid wall of rock. Safanaj took out his skama (the type of sword used by the monks, looks like a Samurai's katana) and inserted it into a gap in the rock. Inside the gap, pins turned- the wall was actually a door that they had built.

Safanaj then pushed open the wall, which was actually only about a centimeter thick. Inside, a square room had been excavated. The walls had ricepaper wallpaper on them, and the floor had a large persian rug on it. "This is the guest quarters. You can see the couch over there. We set up the television in front of it. There is a collection of books from around the world on that shelf. The fireplace is over there for warmth, and it exhausts out a chimney we built through openings in the rock above. If you climb up that ladder, you will find another room with beds in it. Off that room is a bathroom, with a toilet, sink, and bath."

He then went to the door. "Please, get yourself settled. This door is now unlocked and it will be unlocked until you decide to leave us."

He went and climbed out of the cave. He saw a craft flying over him. "Oh, my! This must be the Kanuckistanis!" He began to wave to them, trying to get them to touch down.

The pilots were quick to spot the waving figure, the co-pilot signiling to the passengers that they were about to land while her partner's skilled hand brought the craft about; silent but for the lashing wind of the ionic jets as their exaust tore at nearing stone to little effect, the pilot guilding it in towards the stranger through the electronic eyes of cameras and range-finders mounted about the rear of the craft.

Judging the clearance to be right, he triggered the rear-facing ramp's hydrolics; the immaculate white of the transport's armoured hull splitting where not even a seam was previously visible, revealing the occupants to number six in all - two hunams of each gender in front wearing white slimline rec-armour with padded, open-faced helms, the other two in large, bulky-looking suits of black, unmarked powered combat armour, with mag-holstered sidearms readily aparent on oposite thighs; tho both of the later looked decidedly unhunam, the joints and proportions of the taller of the two made it difficult to imagine that a hunam could be inside.

All but one was presently laiden with numerous heavy-looking bags, the aparent gaurds by far most of all; the clean shaven exception a caucasion man apearing to be in his mid fourties, ice blue eyes quickly finding those of the nearby monk, while an energetic and genuinly freindly smile graced his angular face.

"Greetings," he began; not offering his hand for memory of an incident early in his career, "And salutations from the people of Kanuckistan." The words clear english, for the translators had yet to learn the Temple's spoken tounge despite moderate sucess at it comprehending the text; the two translators with him hoping to resolve that. Meanwhile, they waited for the reply; with luck, the reverse was not true for the Northeasters.

OOC:
Could you give a breif explination of the temple ground's layout?

OOC: Sorry for the delay.

The temple itself is at the far northeast corner of a approximately five square kilometer area. Located within there is a quarry, mine for ore, both located towards the middle. Over a hill to the west of the temple is the guest quarters. To the south is a training ground. The rest is filled with riddled with small shrines, places for meditation, and things like that.

The temple itself is a squared-off 'U', with a courtyard in the middle, with mostly living quarters, scroll rooms, building rooms, a medical area, a vehicle garage (for horses, our boats (a river runs right behind the temple), and a hot air balloon. On the second level, at the very northeast corner, is a shrine, the holiest shrine to us. The rest is scroll rooms, storage, and some living quarters.

IC: Safanaj thought for a moment, and handed the Kanuckistanis the note. He then pointed towards the guest house.