NationStates Jolt Archive

Today, exercising a newfound radio capability, Lord Saruman, an Istari, ruler of the realm of Isengard, has opened up Orthanc, the black tower in which he resides, to foreign diplomatic envoys. This comes directly after he unleashed his newfound military power against Fangorn forest and the Ents and Trees that reside there.

Curunir, as he calls himself, commands a population of over 285 million Uruk-Hai and men [OOC: Resurrected nation, originally founded Feb 15 2003 but went inactive quickly]. Diplomats who choose to reside in Orthanc will be subject to the laws and regulations of Isengard.

The United Socialist States of Temme would like to exhange embassies with Sarumania.

In her private office in the Garden of Stillness the Empress Tzu Yun went through the forigen-relations papers of the day. She came across the transmission from Saurmania requesting ambassadors. After a few moments of considering the Empress wrote "Send Ambassador".

She then leaned back in her rattan chair and let the smell of the lotus flowers flood her senses. Being an Empress had it's perks.


Offical Transmission

"The Empire of Saiogena wishes to exchange ambassadors with Isengard."



http://www.angryasianman.com/images/angry/lucyliu-maxim.jpg
Her Blessed Majesty Empress Tzu Yun
Chu’pei Imperial Dynasty
The Empire of Saiogena

OOC: Saiogena, just a note, you need to link directly to the photo rather than to the google link.
IC

Lord Saruman stood in the palantir chamber, when an Easterling came in to see him. He recognized the man as Hanzo Ghaznavi, another of his generals.
"Lord, the-"
"Yes, I know. Inform them they may have an embassy. I want atleast ten Uruk-Hai watching them at all times. Ensure our guests do not become pre-occupied with any other business besides diplomacy. Also, find out who they are sending and inform me what we can expect out of them. Do not fail me, Hanzo."
The Easterling seemed to vanish into the shadows, and Curunir knew he would not fail. He was the next best thing to a palantir.

To: Saruman [aka Curunir], former messenger of the Valar
From: Consul-General J. W. Gibbs
Subject: Re: Embassies in Isengard

The Kingdom of Weyr would like to exchange embassies with the nation of Sarumania. A delegation of 1 ambassador, 1 general attaché, 2 Alchemists, 6 delegation staff, and 4 High Guard are standing by for your approval.

Space is available within Embassy Tower at the capital city of Wye should you wish to construct an embassy in the Kingdom Weyr.

We await your reply.

Sincerely,
J. W. Gibbs
Consul-General of the Kingdom of Weyr

-----------------------------
OOC: What are the laws and regulations of Isengard?

OOC: Tzu Yun is hot. Gotta love an empress who can pull off the cheesecake photo.
-----------------------------

IC:

From: Aaron Sanchez, Speaker, Andolaian People's Moot.
To: Lord Saruman, Sarumania.

Dear Sir,

It is with great pleasure that the Serene Republic of Andolai has accepted your offer to open diplomatic ties between our people. We hope that this will be the beginning of a long, peaceful, and prosperous relationship for our respective nations.

With thanks,
Aaron Sanchez
Andolaian People's Moot

Greetings, Lord Saruman. We come from across the Western ocean, from a land called 'Meric.' We have just recently established trade routes with Grayhavens, and we wish to establish diplomatic relations with your continent.

King George Washington, of Meric.

Muktar wishes to have an embassy exchange. On another note, Muktar also wishes so with Tesse and Saiogena (Good RPs).

*A slab of rock with crudely carved letters (and attached picture) arrives at Isengard*

To: Saarooperson
From: Da Greenskinz

Weze da greenskinz of da green lands. Weze been tryin' ta be more...d-i-p-l-o-m-a-t-i-c...friendly wit udder peoples. Since yooz already gots lotsa orkies, we tink we can gets along goody. Once yooz say yeser, we can send da diplorcs to yer big shiny tower ting.

http://img29.photobucket.com/albums/v87/Bad_Skeelz/AbassadorTweek.jpg

-Tweek Yegger, Ofishal Emmizary of da Greenskinz

A Messgae was laid at Jusho Ku'shans desk. A message about a embassy offer. he picked it up and reads it. He thinks to himself and as usual he returns a voice disk of acception.

To:Sarumania
From: The Free Drow Land of Drizzts Army

We are intrested in exchanging embassys since we are always on the look for great diplomacy oppertunitys. we wish for you to accept this offer

Diplomatic Adivor, Jusho Ku'shan, subistuite for Drizzts Absence.
http://www.oblivion2.com/images/drow.jpg

OOC: Basically, you do what Saruman tells you to do or you get shot. No wandering around unattended or over-stepping your rights.
IC

Curunir received the information, deliberated on it, and decided to allow the Weyr to establish an embassy. The embassy of Weyr, as were the other two, would be established inside the tower of Orthanc itself (where Saruman could keep a close watch on them).

From: Minister of Foreign Relations Hanzo Ghaznavi
To: Consul-General J. W. Gibbs
Re: Embassies in Isengard

You have been approved for an embassy. It will be located in the tower of Orthanc, to be specified upon your arrival.
We are interested in an embassy in your nation but cannot give details at this time. We thank you and hope we may have a peaceful relationship.
----


To: The Orcs of Greenskinz
From: General Ugluk

Weesa like see mor orcss to be make friends with Sharkey. Send dem right way.

Ugluk turned away from the letter, disgusted. Damnable common orcs, give us Uruks a bad name.

-------

Ryanania, Andolai, Muktar: You requests have been accepted by Curunir. Upon arrival details of your embassy will be given out. Thank you,

A small diplomatic party from Meric arrived in Grayhavens. It had taken them months to get across the Western Ocean (It was Eastern to the Mericans, though). The roads to Orthanc were not conducive to the use of automobiles, so they used horses and pack mules. After another month of travelling, they finally arrived at Orthanc. The diplomatic party consisted of Baron Benjamin von Franklin, Sir Tomas de Paine, and a lowly indentured servant named Benedict Arnold.

(Insert lengthy RP of the embassy's arrival and such here)

OCC: Just assume we rode these pigs hard.

IC:
The Greenskinz thundered into Isengard at break-neck speed, in typical orc fashion. Their boar mounts stared ahead, eagerly looking for someone to crash into. The boar-band ignored any attempts to stop them, only reigning up infront of Orthanc itself.

Of the dozen or so orcs, eleven of them were Fleshcleavas. Much larger than your typical orc, they more resembled big green gorrillas, unlike the manish Uruks. Unfortunately, they weren't much smarter than gorillas, making them unsuitable for anything but fighting. The twelth orc was different though. Glerble was a "Smort", one of the smarter orcs. Him and his ilk acted as hired diplomats for their duller cousins, and attempted to manipulate Greenskin politics from the shadows.

The orcs dismounted as one and marched up the tower steps, two Cleavas remaining behind to control the boars. Glerble's red, pointy eyes darted back and forth between the door men. "Mez be Glerble, emishary of da Greenskinz. Dees my guards. Weze here to meets wit yer Boss and make ah embassy. Yooz gunna lets us in to seez him?"

Marigold Winthrop rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as she disembarked from the train. A prolonged ride with little in the way of entertainment, and uncomfortable quarters at best. Hopefully whatever they'd cobbled together in the way of an embassy would have a more comfortable bed. Her assistant grabbed her bags, which gave her a perfect opportunity to continue the previous night's lecture from where she'd left off

"So Lance, remember that we're to wear clothes at all times. No accidentally leaving the house forgetting to put on the basics. No narcotics usage. I'm not certain of their customs regarding sexuality, but I would advise holding off on approaching anyone until we gather further information on this. Understood?"

"As well as the first fifty times you told me, Marigold" he replied dryly.

"Don't be a smartass," she said with a cuff to the back of his head. "Now, weren't they supposed to send a ride of some sort for us?"

General Lurkgnaw, a large, wellbuilt Uruk-Hai, one of the many wild men and Uruks educated by Saruman himself, slowly led the Greenskinz orcs to the top of Orthanc.

"Right this way, gentleman," Lurkgnaw said in a voice that sounded like a multitude. Lurkgnaw grasped an Uruk sword at his side, and then pointed to a large door, which opened on its own.

There, sitting down at a large, black, marble table, was Saruman of the White Hand, Istari of the Valar.


OOC: Ryanania, I hope those names aren't representative of anything. :shock:

A long, sleek black limosine, the pride of Isengarder industry, made its way towards the waiting Andolai diplomats.

Out stepped a man in a long red robe edged in black, apparently of Haradrim descent. He spoke well and informed them that they would be taken and given a large living quarters to stay in within the tower of Orthanc. He then went threw a perfunctory explanation of Isengarder laws.

OOC: We only one law regarding sex, and that is the banning of homosexuality. If you are a soldier in the Isengarder Army, you are free to rape and pillage as you please. Otherwise have at it.

The Greenskinz party stomped into the hall, the Cleavers fanning out along the walls. One promptly engaged in a staring contest with an Uruk, the rest just standing around surly.

Glerble advanced towards the table, and executed a rather un-orcish bow, whipping off his helmet as he did so. Cradling the helmet (which appeared to have been a bucket at one point in its life) under an arm, he addressed the wizard. "Honor Sauryman, weze bring yoos greetings from da Green lands. Fer years, our peeoples been alones in da world, tinkin we da only orcs in da whole plaze. But whenz our ubaBoss Hurog heard yer message, he knew he founda ally. Dat why he sent me, Glerble of da Smorts, to ask da all-powereeful wizard to allow us a embashy in yer Tower, so as weze can make our two great nations friendly to one 'nother, and not have barshin between da Greenskinz and da Uruks."

'Okay" Marigold whispered to her assistant. "So: No women for me and no men for you during this assignment. We can both hold off for the good of the country"

The limo pulled up outside their future home.

Marigold leaned out of the window, Lance's face soon appearing beside hers. They gave a simulataneous whistle.

"Impressive. Sure is a change from the commune"

Saruman gave a penetrating stare at the Smort. He brought creatures such as these under his domination all the time. He wondered if this Greenskinz nation was even worthy of considering as an ally. He sighed, and then showed them off to their quarters, a grungy place, full of food. It contained beds, fridges, and toilets. Saruman assumed a shower would simply take up space that would not be used by the Orcs.

Soon, the Andolaian diplomats arrived. Saruman himself was busy directing the further penetration of Fangorn, and so he sent Andrew Kirkonnel, his best general, to welcome them.

General Kirkonnel was tall, muscled, tanned, with dark hair and imposing green eyes. He wore a long black robe, rimmed with yellow, and carried a small Eastern dagger at his side. Some said he possessed limited powers of magic, taught to him by Saruman. All knew he was as ferocious as an Uruk, but none knew him personally. He was known for being a leader of souls on the battlefields, and all, orc, man, or Istari, admired him.

He welcomed the Andolaian diplomats warmly, informed them of Saruman's absence, and led them to their living quarters, a large area equipped with every modern convenience Saruman had been able to dig up. Jacuzzis, pool tables, you name it.

With that, he gave them his cell phone number and left them to mull over their new surroundings.

To Lord Saruman,

My dear Sir,

I have received word of your offer to open diplomatic ties. As a nation new upon the world political stage, we would welcome an opportunity to get to know your nation and have you get to know ours through an exchange of ambassadors. If this meets with your approval, we should like to dispatch an ambassador to your nation at your earliest convenience. We would also be more than happy to provide a large estate in our capitol city to serve as your embassy.

I humbly await your response.

Sincerely,
Archbishop F.B. Fax, Chancellor of the Holy Empire of Asmadonia, on behalf of God-King Gregor Asmadi the First

OOC: Bah! I have done this Saruman character before. Need any of the big powers be reminded of Lord Saruman the White. That was I and I was annihilated by Lord Sauron Reborn and the Roanians. Orthanc was submerged into the ground as the underlying soil collapsed along with Saruman who was merged and trapped with the tower by Tor Yvresse magic.

<=--MESSAGE

FROM:Gar Essell, Executor, Necros-Vacuia Foreign Affairs Commissariat
TO:Lord Saruman the White, Executive, Rogue Nation of Sarumania

MESSAGE BODY

If the good Lord Saruman might see it clear (we were a bit tardy in recieving this message due to bad filtration at the National Security Commissariat), the Dominion would most certainly love the opportunity to exchange ambassadors.

We're sending one of our best people over, with a few incenamelons and used Predator-GX fighters as a gesture of good will.

--Gar Essell, Executor, Foreign Affairs Commissariat

END MESSAGE BODY

END MESSAGE--=>

Somewhere in the impossibly-tall spire that was The Tower, on the upper tiers of the city of Wye, on the top slopes of Mt. Weyr. Words ran across six consoles.

[code:1:d89f6be9c5]>>>Compiling data
<<<Initiate
>>>Runtime in progress
>>>Initiating transfers
>>>M correction error @ ±1%
>>>Buffer flux @ ±12 millithaums
>>>Shields online
>>>Transferring . . .
>>>Transfer complete[/code:1:d89f6be9c5]

*********

A perfectly smooth silver-gray round rock about seven meters high landed into the earth by the white road leading to Isengard, two dozen meter’s from Isengard’s main gate. Every bit of its surface seemed to be covered with glowing and pulsing mystic circles, runes, and equations that would have put many a sorcerer to shame.

The markings on the sphere shifted, merged, and formed words:
Diplomatic Mission from the Kingdom of Weyr
Do NOT Destroy under Warning of _instant_ Decomposition

“Can we get out now?” one of the six ‘expendable’ staff asked.

“Fine, stop whining,” Alchemist Sybil Black growled. She was ready to incinerate the whole secretarial staff, all seven of them. “Ready?” she asked.

“Gotcha,” Alchemist Amanda Black nodded. The two sisters could not have been more different in temperament. Sybil seemed to be in a constant state of anger at anything that moved. Amanda seemed to always be ready to make friends with anything that moved.

The sphere flexed, melted, until the delegation stood on a perfect stone circle on the side of the road leading to Isengard's gates.

“Wait until they send someone to meet us,” Nalia li'Southgate, the ambassador said. “And keep it in check,” she added, looking sternly at both sisters. “’Casters down,” she commanded the four High Guard. ‘And keep your mouths shut,” this was meant specifically for the six secretarial staff and the attaché, who were essentially cannon fodder.

"So when's the staff arriving?" Lance asked.

"Any day now. And shh" Marigold relaxed further into the hot tub, glad that she could finally get out of her diplomatic gear and stay naked, like any civilzed person. Lance continued to poke around the room.

"Awfully bourgeois setup they have for us. A pool table? Come on, now. It's decadent"

"Yep," Marigold replied. "Don't be such a socialist hardass. Strip and get in the tub. It feels great"

"Don't we have some paperwork to do or something?"

"No"

"Or maybe let the Moot know we've arrived?"

"Already done while you were complaining about the imperialistic artwork"

Lance sagged slightly, his face a study in frustration. Slowly, he began to remove his clothes. Upon completion, he slid into the hot tub.

"There," Marigold smiled at him. "Doesn't that feel better?"

Lance shrugged, trying to to let the sudden rush of pleasure show on his face. "It's okay"

"You know, they Greenskinz sent a delegation"

That piqued Lance's interest. "Greenskinz?"

"A different species of some sort. The world's a larger place than we imagined"

"I suppose so...I don't suppose it would be out of line for us to say hello?"

"Good idea," Marigold responded. "But first things first. Let's break in our new surroundings. Time for the ritual". She grinned widely and slid across the hot tub....

**********************

From: Lance de Mond, Diplomatic Envoy, Andolai
To: Greenskinz

Since we're neighbors, we thought it might be nice if you popped in for a chat someday.

Yours,
Lance de Mond

OOC: Great RP!
I do Future and Modern tech (perfer future though), so if you don't feel like dealing with someone who wears powered armor around all day, let me know. :wink:


IC: It was dark in the Reich building. The only light came from what flickers of the moon and stars escaped from the dense and cloudly night.

Running through the halls to bring the Furher news was Oberstfurher Hermann. Hermann had been a fat man before the National Socialist government took control, but not anymore. The constant running was beginning to take a toll on Hermann's weight, as it had for the aide of the previous Premier.

"Mein Furher!" He called as he thrust open the large mohagany doors leading to the Furher's office. "We have recieved a transmission from a leader called 'Saruman' who dwells in a land called 'Isengard.' Based on what we know of him, it appears he would be of a similar disposition as yourself. We could always use another ally, especially one with reasonably similar political leanings." Hermann said, hardly pausing for breath.

"I see. Well, go and send a message Gunther!" Furher Gustav replied, still tired from going over volumes of reports.

"By your will, Furher." Hermann said before turning upon his heels and leaving the Furher's office.

Arriving at the diplomatic nexus, he began typing out an encoded message to Saruman and his nation.

[code:1:6cd86ef9e4]To: The nation of Sarumania, dwellers of Isengard and its surrounding territories
From: The United National Socialist States of Central Facehuggeria
Subject: Embassy

Greetings your eminence. We have recently heard of your nation and decided that your views are relatively similar to our own. We would request an exchange of embassies and a commencement of limited trade between our two nations. If you wish, we can send an ambassador within the week.

Sincerely,
The CF Diplomatic Corps[/code:1:6cd86ef9e4]

After typing out that somewhat brief message, Hermann got up and went back to his quarters, determined to get some sleep in before he had to run more news to the Furher.

OOC2: I hope this doesn't double post. :(

Isengard, Greenskin "embassy"

The part-time secretary, part-time basher peered at the Andolaian message. Turning it upsidedown, he peered at it again. He looked on the back, making sure he hadn't missed something. His finger made its way to his right ear, and dug industriously for a moment or so.

After another twenty minutes of peering, glancing, looking cockeyed, and trying to see through his eyelids, something clicked in the orc's brain. With sudden enthusiasm, he scribbled out a reply.

----------
To: Andolaees peoples
From: da Greenskinz

Weze be onered to comes over to yer burrow and chatz. We bring som tasty critter tooz.

-Weggy, letter person of da Greenskin

After finishing the message, he threw it out into the hallway. Someone would get it. Going into the apartment, he peered around for Glerble. It was hard seeing the Smort, what with all the smoke form that campfire someone started on the bed. "Glerble! Dees peoples wants to talks wit yooz. Me said yooz bring food. Here der messer."

The Smort gave the basher an "evil eye", though it was doubtful the brute knew it. "Finez. Gimme dat critter-leg. Me go speak wit da Andolais." Grabbing a large leg of tasty critter meat -which could be any number of warm blooded animal- he roused a few bodyguards from their drunken stupor. As soon as they got into their armor, he started off down the hallway towards the Andolaian quarters.

Lance opened the missive and studied the scrawls dilligently.

"Tasty critterz? Oh, dear"

While wandering around the building earlier, he'd had a chance to see one of the Greenskinz. Not what you'd call attractive in a normal sense, but they seemed like perfectly decent peop...types. Liberated. Open and honest.

And really, any opportunity to explore a different culture was a good one. On the other hand, he was suddenly somehow grateful that the housekeeping staff had arrived.

"Marigold? We're having company. I'll do some research to find out what the Greenskinz eat"

Marigold jumped when she heard the series of loud slams coming from the downstairs hallway.

"Someone's trying to break down the door! Alert security and make sure our hosts know!"

Lance rushed to a viewing screen.

"Um...Marigold?" he glanced over at her. She was practicing her tiger stance in preperation for the invaders.

"Marigold?" he repeated. "It's our guest. He's simply...knocking"

"Knocking?"

Lance shrugged in reply. "Diplomacy time". They both threw on simple wraps and travelled the spiral staircase going downstairs. Marigold approached the door and threw it open. The guest seemed a pleasant enough fellow, even if it was hard to overlook the rather extensive grease stains around his mouth.

"Greetings to our most noble guest, representative of the Greenskinz," she said with a huge smile. "Please enter and make yourself at home"

Glerble locked Marigold's eyes with his own, bulgy red ones. The characteristic orc slouch rendered him not much taller than her, so their faces were more or less at the same level. On one hip hung a large Shoota Piztol, the other held a a hammer or an ax, it was hard to tell. Behind him stood two bodyguards, one with a leg of roasted tasty critter (beef, in this case) slung over his shoulder. "Hulloz...person from Andolai. Weze come barin' stuff. Yooz got a place to put dis meat?"

As he entered the suite, Glerble turned and snapped at the other Orc in greenspeak, who had been trying to sneak a bite from the critter leg. The emishary stomped across the room, his heavy boots making a loud 'thud' with every step. Taking a seat on a couch, his gaze turned back to his hosts. "So, yooz been invited by da bearded guy up stairs? What yooz tink of him?"

Marigold and Lance stood silently side by side until Lance nudged her. "You're the ambassador" he hissed.

"Um..well...it's part of our culture not not judge the progress of another society until such time as we've been able to decide..." Another nudge from Lance shut her up.

"Then again, I'm the linguist" he muttered.

"Ya, weez been invited by him. Don't know. Gotta tink on dis one. Wat you tink?" he glared back at the Greenskin, grabbing a large leg of mutton and tossing it to him. "Have drinks and critterz while yooz tink".

*BUMP*

Today, exercising a newfound radio capability, Lord Saruman, an Istari, ruler of the realm of Isengard, has opened up Orthanc, the black tower in which he resides, to foreign diplomatic envoys. This comes directly after he unleashed his newfound military power against Fangorn forest and the Ents and Trees that reside there.

Curunir, as he calls himself, commands a population of over 285 million Uruk-Hai and men [OOC: Resurrected nation, originally founded Feb 15 2003 but went inactive quickly]. Diplomats who choose to reside in Orthanc will be subject to the laws and regulations of Isengard.

The Holy Empire of Sporkeric accepts your offer if you in return send a diplomat to our nation.

The Brotherhood of Nod would like to send an ambassador to Orthanc to start relations with Isengard. Does the Wizard's Vale have an airstrip?

The Necros-Vacuian ship landed quietly amidst all the hubbub, decloaking as it came; the gunship was flanked by the promised four fighters and bristled with weaponry.

Inside, Ambassador Mitara Eve adjusted her suit as the soft thump of the landing gear meeting the earth. She then looked to her companion, the dark Hammani Abdu Khama-ji, who was hurriedly trying to tuck in the shirt of his own.

"You think this Lord Saruman is already expecting us?" She frowned. It didn't usually do in the Dominion for ambassadors to turn up out of schedule. Those that did were often subject to the hospitality of the Internal Security Agency; from what she'd read of Saruman, he didn't suffer fools any more readily than did the Lord Praetor.

"I have no idea, comrade," shrugged Abdu. "Executor Essell almost forgot he was sending me on the mission; why the Lord Praetor keeps that old fool around is beyond me."

Mitara sighed. "Well, if we get shot when we come out, at least we weren't warned ahead of time."

Abdu smiled ruefully. "Better to die unexpectedly than stupidly..." He waved to the crewmen. "Get the melons, and for the love of God, do not drop them...."