NationStates Jolt Archive

--Transmitted--
The Grand Kingdom of Aerion invites delegates of foreign nations to attend the Grand Royal Court of His Royal Majesty King Wasterin X at the Royal Palace in the Aerion capital of Astevane. Visitors and delegates may stay within the Guest Apartments of the Royal Palace, or choose from two five star hotels or five four star hotels within the capital of Astevane. The dress code is black tie.

(Setting)
The grand Royal Palace of Astevane stands within the Royal (Central) District of Astevane, being the seat of power in Aerion for hundreds of years, and the center of government. The Forum outside of the Royal Palace is home to one luxurious five star hotel, and two four star hotels as well as numerous buildings. The architecture style of the Royal District has been mantained, and remains Greeko-Romanesque with elements of French Baroque. Most buildings are made of all marble, with elaborate and elegant decoration, high ceilings, massive pillars, and fountains. It is all very light, airy, and elegant.

The Royal Palace itself is massive, being three miles long, and five miles wide. It has been built onto over the years by the various governments which have used it as their seat of power, but King Wasterin X commissioned several architects to seamelessely intergrate all areas of the Royal Palace into one whole. It has many massive wide open areas, some rooms the size of football fields. It is almost all white marble, with the interior decoration of utmost elegance. Gold, silver, and jewels have liberally been used throughout the interior. It has elements of Arabic, and Greeko-Roman Architecture. Wide sweeping arches, high ceilings, pillars, etc. It has around 12,000 rooms.


The Throne Room

The huge throne room is 200 feet long, 100 feet wide, and 200 feet high. The arched ceiling features three large domes lining its length, painted with brightly illuminated frescoes of great battle scenes in the history of Aerion. The walls have gilded gold patterns, and are lined with massive marble statues of the past Kings of Aerion. The massive marble throne is upon a twenty foot high dais, with steps leading up to it. The throne itself could easily sit three side by side, but only sits the King himself, and is fashioned in the shape of a massive marble phoenix with its wings outsretched around the Emperor.

For the Royal Court, the Throne Room is bustling with hundreds of servants dressed elegantly, serving trays of wine, and food. Lining the walls are the Ceremonial Section of the Royal Guard in wearing long draping red robes, and silver helmets with large white plumes. They hold large ceremonial rifles in one hand resting to the floor.

The King himself has not yet arrived, and the guests are being welcomed in.

Some of the national elite of Aerion were present as well, dressed in their most elegant tuxedos, and dresses from the most highly esteemed fashion desginers of Aerion. Many of the women were elaborate diamond necklaces, earrings, and bracelets that glittered in the light. Many of the men wore equally elaborate dress watches. The Aerion elite definitely appeared to be appreciators of wealth.

*taken to telegram*

*TG*

*see above*

Awaiting delegates

We would be most grateful if Grand Duke Kondrat Zuraw and part of his Court could attend this august event.

The Republic of Agrigento will be sending a diplomatic representive from the Department of Foreign Affairs to attend this event.

The Liberated Environs of Teatroia will be sending a delegation to the Great Kingdom of Aerion for the Grand Royal Court. We would also request a lodging in the Guest Apartments of the Palace, so as to be closer to the events at hand.

I look forward to good and friendly relations with our countries.

Sincerely yours,

Tarin DelTorre, First Minister
The Liberated Environs of Teatroia

OOC: Do we go through all that 'Can I come', 'You can come', 'I will arrive soon', 'I have arrived at the airport and caught a cab', 'I have arrived outside the building', blah blah blah stuff or can we just walk in?

OOC: I was planning on just appearing, but if you want us to go thru the whole intro Aerion I'd be happy too. My first post was just because I didn't have the creative enrgy to do a full intro at the time!

ooc: Just walk in

The short, rotund, unpleasant dictator of Slutbum Wallah strode into the already crowded throne room, tugging at his suit and cursing the general incompetence of the gaggle of hangers-on who followed closely behind. His name was Ambassador-General Butah and in the confused beurocatic mess that was modern day Slutbum Wallah, he was the highest ranking member of the government. Admittedly he'd gotten there by personally murdering the six cabinet ministers of El Presidente on the man's 50th birthday celebration, but no-one really liked to talk about that.

Butah muttered and snarled beneath his breath, "This is a hell of a long way to go to avoid talking to the Dregruk ambassador." He spoke in Old Madrigan, an ancient dialect now totally unknown outside the circles of the Slutbum Wallah diplomatic corp.

"We believe he's going to be assassinated any day now, Ambassador-General." One of the hangers on muttered, smiling at some the nearby guests, "We can't be near him when he goes."

"But why come all the way to this backwater junkyard?" Butah slipped back out of Old Madrigan, "Drink! Someone get me a drink! I thought this was supposed to be a social event!"

As the dictator of Slutbum Wallah entered, the Royal Herald by the door announced, "Ambassador-General Butah of Slutbum Wallah". Some of the Aerion elite turned to look at the door, providing polite nods, and then returned to their conversations in their cliquish circle.s

A waiter in the elegant costume of a butler approached, holding a tray with wine, "Your Excellency."

Cynthia Chevitz took a moment to check herself over before entering the huge hall. The Ministry of International Relations had had to think long and hard about who to send to this function, as the Aerion taste for opulence clashed heavily with the Glorious Humans' more pragmatic views. Chevitz had finally been given the assignment because of her familiarity with common noble customs and courtly ways, and also because she didn't have a problem with dressing in extremely opulent fashions.

She was a woman of medium height, taller than some other women but shorter than most men. Long brown hair worn loose framed an oval face with full lips and large brown eyes. She managed to be beautiful without being overly sensuous and sexual like many female diplomats. She was clothed in a black gown of a shimmering material that seemed almost to swirl around her as she moved, cut high in front, up to her neck, and dipping down to the middle of her back in the rear. Completing the outfit were a pair of diamond stud earrings and elbow length white gloves on her arms. Her feet were concealed under the dress, so her black high heels were not visible.

Her check complete, she walked in, nodding to the herald and giving her name in a gentle voice. Then she walked further in, taking a glass of wine off a tray and sipping it. The alcohol might help steady her nerves. First contacts were always tricky, and she was inexperienced. This was her first major assignment, and though she knew a lot, she'd never had a chance to put her knowledge to work in the real world. She just hoped she'd be alright.

The Royal Herald announced, "Ambassador Cynthia Chevitz of Glorious Humanity."


--Glorious Humanity--
Some of the Aerionians standing in the room look over, offering her a smile, a woman in an elegant simple black dress and wearing an elaborate diamond necklace steps toward her. Long stylish black gloves extend up to her elbows. She has long flowing black hair, and cat-like eyes. Her facial features are almost symmetrically perfect, the idea of beauty to many humans.

Following behind her is a man wearing the proper black tie attire, a tuxedo. He is an elderly gentleman with a high forehead, and hawkish features. His walk is regal, and filled with authority.

Duke Kondrat Zuraw and Foreign Minister Dobromil Kyelski enter the Throne Room. Zuraw is a man of six feet two inches, with a long, clean-shaven face. He is truly refined in the sense of the aristocracy. He wears a tuxedo with a medal upon a blue ribbon. Kyelski is a shorter, bespectaled man, with a beard on his round face. He speaks calmly and eloquently. Zuraw nods in approval and appreciation of his surroundings.

Butah snatched up a glass of wine from the tray, "I'm not an Exellency you snivelling toad. If you want to show some respect then call me sir." He scowled at the stony-faced butler and took a sip of the wine. "What is this? Grape wine?" He grimaced and ran his tongue around his mouth, "Pah. I shouldn't have expected this run-down burgh to have anything worth drinking."

He left the glass on another waiter's tray and snapped his fingers, "Ampleforth, fetch me some dandelion wine. We're supposed to have an ambassador somewhere amongst this mess, he'll have some if no-one else does." Butah glanced around at some of the twittering nobility as Ampleforth bustled into the crown, "Hackstien, who are those two?" He waved a hand at the new Aerionians, "The floozy and the stork."

Hackstien shook his head, "Can't say, sir. The ambassador should know if we could find him."

Even though black tie wasn't a style often used in Teatroia, as color was valued more as a sign of personal expression, some Teatroiani tailors had put together a nice number for First Minister Tarin DelTorre. He wore a basic black tux with a few differences. Firstly, it was cut in what only could be described as a more artistic fashion, and secondly down each side ran an inch-thick bar of an abstract pattern colored in red and green. He also wore a pin, shoulder patch, and bracelet, which were connected by a gold chain to signify his rank.

He gave the herald his name as he walked in and began to survey the diplomats in the room, trying to decide who he should first introduce himself to.

The Royal Herald announces, "His Grace Duke Kondrat Zuraw of Poznon" and "Foreign Minister Dobromil Kyelski of Poznon".

The Royal Herald continues, "First Minister Tarin DelTorre of Teatroia."

A few among the Aerionian circles in the crowds glanced over toward the new arrivals, some giving disapproving looks at the "creativity" in the First Minister's tuxedo, and whispering slightly.

A man enters, whispering something to the Royal Herald, who steps forward, crossing his hands behind his back.

The Royal Herald ANNOUNCES, "The Lord High Steward, Athelon Kathes."
Almost every single Aerionian in the room turns to look, stopping what they are doing, and obviously turning to stare at the door.

In steps an elderly gentleman with a long white beard, piercing blue eyes, and wearing an elegantly tailored black tuxedo. Around his neck is the Collar of his office, a chain of interlinking squares with various symbols engraved on them, hanging from which is a round seal. One close observer may notice on his hand is a tattoo of a skull above flames, though only the very closely observant...

Immediately the crowds break out into whispers, some of the foreign dignitaries may hear, "Strange old man." "My Lord", "He is here." As the Lord High Steward gives one gaze across the crowd, they immediately return to what they are doing, and he steps steadily through the center of the room.

"I dont have time for this!" Daniel said quietly as he and his secretary, who had to jump in has his date walked towards the entrance to the main hall.
"You've got to make public apperances, otherwise people will think that you're not alive!"
Daniel makes a small irritating sound, "They will know Im alive when my bombs fall on their heads!" She shook her head "You've got to understand that things do not work as they used to do"
"Jibberish! war has always so--" he stoped talking as they walked through the entrance. Daniels cane made a small bumping sound as he strode forward, with his secretary at his side.
"Oh..there is that awfull man Butah, with the manners of a cow" Daniel wispered.. "I hope I dont have to talk to him.. Im to old for his.. his.. oh..never mind"

"You hope you don't have to talk to him?" A sober-faced man stepped out from behind a pillar beside Daniel, "How do you think I feel? I'm his ambassador to this backwater country. He's about to spend two hours shattering what it's taken me six months to build." He paused and sighed, "An easy job." He chuckled as the Ambassador-General barreled his way into the crowds, grumbling something about 'Uncivilized yokels'. "Well you shouldn't have to put up with him much longer. If he's not assassinated by his inferiors then Dregruk's about to invade anyway."

[Aerion Copy of the Formal Communication Confirming Lord General deGritz’s acceptance.]

To: Organisers of the Grand Royal Court of His Royal Majesty King Wasterin X
From: Iuthian Diplomatic Corps, Central Command, Iuthia Prima, Iuthia
Subject: Invitation Accepted
Message:


Organisers of the Grand Royal Court of His Royal Majesty King Wasterin X,

We thank you for this invitation to this prestigious event and would like to inform you that Lord General James deGritz, leader of the Iuthian people formally accepts your invitation.

We would like to inform you of our own security precautions in brief as well as informing you of our extra guests and room arrangements, all additional information is attached to this file in encrypted documents.

Lord General deGritz will be attending the ball with his latest girlfriend, Liessa Valleron, a elvan celebrity in Iuthia. Travelling with the Lord General, but not attending are his 20 man strong security team with a security liaison working with your own security to make sure things are smooth as well as Ambassador Kayla Harmone of the Diplomatic Corps and three of her aides whom will be hoping to handle any diplomatic affairs such as setting up an embassy some time.

Here is the attachment with the equipment details, personnel lists and background information on each for your own use [Attachment: 0001a].

Thanks for the invitation, we hope these arrangements are to your liking,

Foriegn Minister Mick Lakely, Iuthian Diplomatic Corps

-------------------------------------------


With an air of confidence James deGritz, the benevolent dictator of Iuthia walked in with Liessa Valleron, his soon to be wife, by his side. Both Liessa and James wearing some of their finest formal wear for the Royal Court, though their opinions on "finest" vastly differed.

Liessa had a taste for simple clothes; she rarely wore anything with too many colours or intricate patterns as she preferred to wear something which was beautiful without trying too hard. At the moment she simply wore a white dress with matching shoes and choker, which went well with her fair skin. Her elven ears were clearly visible as they peeked out from her long straight hair which flowed down her back, a river of hazel brown.

She seemed short in comparison to James and pretty much ever other woman at the ball, being only 5 feet tall and, like many elves in Iuthia, rather thin. However she had a carefully defined face, almost like that of a princess from a fairy tale, her elven features only adding to her beauty.

James himself was getting on to be in his late forties, a stark contrast from his girlfriend Liessa who clearly looked to be in her mid-twenties, even though she was getting on to be three times his age. He was a cleanly shaven man who had retained his dignity while aging, he still had all of his hair and most of it still had it’s usual dark brown colour in it’s shortly cut military style. James kept good care of himself, especially with some of the previous encounters he had, he intended to stay alive for sometime. Meanwhile he simply wore his formal attire which resembled a generals uniform, but only slightly as it had been improved upon to mark his higher-then-general rank.

He was a reasonably simple man, although simple isn’t the same as stupid, he preferred to use the simplest solution to a problem when it was possible, though these days seemed to be less simple then he would like them to be, with many nations declaring war over the smallest slight, it was hard to stay entirely simple when dealing with them. However, this wasn’t a problem now, he would be out of the nation for a while and he could leave many of these problems to his capable staff at home.

The two walked hand in hand, looking around at the magnificant decor of the palace, they had come from a nation which prefered a building which concentrated on defence and practicality... they just didn't have the artisans with the imagination to make something like this.


http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v258/Iuthia/Characters/ElfWoman2.jpg
Liessa Valleron, different dress because I described the wrong pic...

The Royal Herald announced the arrival of the Iuthians, "Lord General James Degritz and Ms. Valleron of Iuthia."

-Iuthia-
Many in the Aeronian circles turned to look at the Lord General, offering bows, and two figures broke from their circle to go greet the Lord General and his companion. Both were middle-aged men, one with black hair and brown eyes with dark features wearing a simple tuxedo, and the other blond hair and blue eyes. They both had very sharp, handsome features, and a sort of suave demeanour. They approached the couple, and introduced themselves. The man with black hair and brown eyes smiled, "Welcome Lord General, I am Thero Lekthar, His Majesty's Deputy Minister of the Interior, and this is my brother Daroth Lekthar, CEO of Rathore Telecommunications, the primary leader of Aerion's telecommunications industry."

Cynthia saw the two approaching her and smiled at them. Nobles? High government officials? Successful businesspeople? She wondered who they were even as she gracefully curtsied with one hand while the other held her wine glass.

"Good day to you milord, milady," she greeted them, using a general term of respect since she did not know their ranks. "I suppose you already know my name from the herald. I confess you have me at a disadvantage. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

--Glorious Humanity--

The woman smiled at Cynthia, "I am Ithessa Reoak, Assistant Deputy Minister of Education, and this is Commodore Kathes Dalek, Executive Assistant to the Lord High Admiral of the Royal Aerion Navy." The elderly man gave a slight nod, clasped his hands behind his back, and stared silently at Ithessa as she spoke.

"Hmm, remind me why I have to do this again." said Andropov, Irina Zashsalnamov smiled, "Remember, promoting peaceful cohabitation between capitalist nations and socialist nations." Prime Minister Andropov grimaced, "Why do I have to be here, you are the Minister of Diplomacy after all..." Irina reached over and straightened his tie. "Because you are the face of Hattia to the world." Andropov looked downtrodden, "Oh well, let's get it over with."

Andropov had a rather public dislike of formal events such as this. He hated the restricting suits that he had to wear, preferring more comfortable clothes. At least he had his sword with him...

Andropov towered over most of the other delegates, being 6'5", though he was quite thin and unimposing, except when he wanted to be. His unkempt brown hair was kept short while his green eyes scanned the crowd for food or someone he knew, a feature on his face that attracted eyes was a long scar going down the right side of his face, a souvenier he got from a duel several years before. He had the typical Hattian distrust of most foreigners and likely had very little in common with most of the people here.

Irina, however roamed the crowd with the ease of a diplomat, exchanging small talk with the other delegates. Slightly shorter than Andropov, her dark brown hair hung down to her shoulders. She wore a rather expensive looking white dress and a beautiful diamond necklace around her neck.

They entered the room. For a while, it just seemed like a blur of faces to Andropov. Eventually he made his way to a table with the little snacks that people seemed to like at these kind of events. He snacked on those for a while, generally avoiding attention while looking for someone familiar.

Eventually, he sighted Mr. deGritz from Iuthia. Though they were not very familiar with each other, their respective nations were allies. He approached him. "Comrade DeGritz, I'm glad to see you, diplomats can be so stuffy..." Turning to Miss Valleron, "Hello Miss Valleron..." he said, bowing slightly, "I hope you do not mind me saying so, but you look absolutely radient..."

The Royal Herald announced the entrance of the two delegates of Hattia, "Prime Minister Andropov, and Minister of Diplomacy Irina Zashsalnamov of Hattia"

--Hattia and Iuthia

The two brothers Thero Lekthar, and Daroth Lekthar both looked over at the Hattian delegates, nodding to each of them, but remaining politely silent to allow Iuthians to speak.

James listened proudly to the Royal Herald announcing his name, it was something he was kind of used to but in a different manner, being more like a superiour officer then a nobal. Never the less it was a sign of respect in his opinion.

As for Liessa, she was used to the attention through her successful telivision career through out her life, she had also been a rather good actor so it wasn't hard to look the part and gracefully accept the annoucement, even if it did make her feel a little weak at the knees. Royalty! she thought.

Then two offical looking men approached them from the crowd who had acknowledged them, their tuxedoes simple but impressive when coupled with the formal view. Then one of them introduced himself and his companion.

"Welcome Lord General, I am Thero Lekthar, His Majesty's Deputy Minister of the Interior, and this is my brother Daroth Lekthar, CEO of Rathore Telecommunications, the primary leader of Aerion's telecommunications industry."

James offered his hand in return. "Greetings, gentlemen." He simlpy replied. "And of course, you know who we are, though I may as well introduce you properly to my fiance, Liessa." He gestured politely to Ms. Valleron, who was looking rather fetching in her white dress.

"Charmed to meet you." She gave a small bow of recognition as it's custom in Iuthia that women bow like men, only the Iuthian diplomats knew otherwise and generally only curtsey when it's require of them in their job role.

The Liangite delegate, one Uesugi Klessen, Marshal of the Tenth Army and member of Liang's Council of Elders, arrived somewhat inconspicuously. Though tall and somewhat pale, he had a grim, silent air about him. Those who knew him well would be aware of his own particular brand of devout Buddhism, where the military fit in quite snugly. With the relative lack of important business in the Domain, it was seen as necessary to expand diplomatic contacts.
Klessen was of an above-average heighth, and at his side was a longsword that protruded quite obviously. A white robe of ankle-length was his garment, and he arrived without escort, without a word to any of the other delegates.
The Marshal took a seat at a particularly noisy table, though he remained his stone-cold silence, a feature of Liang's government some found most disturbing. He offered a sentence or two at opportune moments, quickly falling silent again, and looking very serene at the same time. His eyes constantly scanned the room. Quickly he took in the various visitors, noticing a man with an air of the military about him and his elven wife, a rude-looking snobbish man who seemed to be making quite a pig of himself, and a tall, Slavic diplomat who seemed to be talking to just about everyone. He gave little murmurs of greeting to those who waved at him, but otherwise maintained his silence, carefully sipping at a cup.

Andropov looked over at the Liangnite delegation. Their nations were both involved in conflict against the now non-existant nation of Maghda a while back. Andropov greeted them with a nod of his head.

Noticing the reactions that he received from the crowd as he entered, DelTorre quickly called one of his assistants waiting near the palace and asked for the backup black only tux that had been brought along in case the plan to show the Teatroiani colors backfired, and since it seemed to be doing just that, he started damage control as soon as it was noticed. Once he received his new jacket he decided to go and mingle quickly before anyone took too much notice of his backfire.

OOC: anyone mind if I butt in? you all seem to be in a covnersation and I'd rather not just wedge myself in. let me know here!

The Great Legate of Sidar Jabari, Enzo Grimald, entered the Court, looking around and admiring the beauty of the place. His black silk suit enhanced his deep green eyes.

As he was the Jabarian Minister of Foreign Affairs, His Excellence the Doge Julius Serra had sent him to attend the Court of King Wasterin X.
Indeed, Sidar Jabari was determined to establish peaceful diplomatic relationships with more and more nations, among which Aerion.

Enzo Grimald was a very handsome man, courteous and charming but also humble, as a member of the most noble families of Sidar Jabari. Besides, he had a natural sense of diplomacy; that's why he had been elected Great Legate...

As DelTorre looked around, he saw a very strapping-looking man enter the palace, and decided to start his diplomatic efforts with him.

"Hello, good sir. If I may introduce myself, I am First Minister Tarin DelTorre of the Liberated Environs of Teatroia. Might I ask whose acquaintance I have the pleasure of making?"

Chief Ambassador Fiell of Dregruk, a man of 6'4" and burly shoulders, roughly shoved open the doors to the party. He often entered social events in this manner. Not only did it let his enemies know that he was in a bad mood, but it also seemed to make drinks appear much faster than usual.

Whatever works.

The Ambassador was an intimidating sight; his eyes were a cold grey, but one was kept permanently hidden beneath a jet black eye patch. His hair was also grey, but not in a way that suggested age or senility; it seemed to heighten his aura of threat. And the numerous scars across his face didn't reassure anyone of his table manners.

He wasted no time in pushing into the crowd, knocking over a few diplomats and waiters in the process, sending drinks, trays and high heel shoes a-flying. He didn't apologise; he gave them a glare that usually didn't so much sour milk as turn it into low fat banana yoghurt.

He marched towards the Slutbum Wallah Ambassador General and growled, "Hello again, Butah. How's your country coming along? Still choking itself with paperwork?"

The Royal Herald announces, "Chief Ambassador Fiell of Dregruk"
And then "Enzo Grimald, Legate of Sidar Jabari"
And also "Uesugi Klessen, Marshal of the Tenth ARmy of Northwestern Liang"

Ambassador-General Butah was on the verge of shooting the damn waiters for gross incompetence when the Dregruk Ambassador grunted his way through a greeting. He smiled grimly before turning to face the man, it looked like there may be some fun to be had this evening after all...

Butah spun round and opened his arms wide, slapping a nearby dignitaries wife with the back of his hand. "Why Fiell," he smirked, "Did you think that one up all by yourself or do you still hire comedians to write your dialogue?" He stopped and made a pained expression, theatrically slapping himself on the forehead, "Oh I'm sorry, Ambassador, I forgot. You still haven't discovered how to read have you. Don't worry, it'll come to you eventually." He smiled pitifully.

Butah produced a thick cigar from inside his jacket and put it to his lips. The husband of the near-fatally insulted woman powered up to his side , "Now see here you pompous little man. I am most seriously upse..." Butah, still holding Fiell's gaze, reached out and stuck a match on the fuming dignitaries' chin. The man stood stunned. Butah brought the match to the cigar with a well-practised flick of the wrist, puffed it once or twice and tossed the used match back into the man's face.

"And how is Dregruk, ambassador? Still parading around a lot of butch men in tight clothing? You know, I've always wondered about that."

Daniels irritation grew a bit when the royal Herald didnt announce his name.
"Worthless". Then the Slutbum Wallahn ambassador made a remark that he actually had to put up with Butah for several hours. Danield walked to the bar, with the cane making a "bomp" sound for each step.
"Give me something.. Wiskey.. yea.. gimmie a six 'o wiskey.." the bartender nodded "ofcourse sir"
His secretary placed herselfe on the chair beside him. "Sir, you've never touched alcohol before"
Daniel shook his head "I've never been here either.. and people will for sure want to talk to me.. and I believe, that I will make a better impression as a drunk dictator rather than a sober one.." the secretary looked at him, he looked back.
"You know.. to meet their expectations.. bah! let me have my goddamned drink without you going all moral on me.. I am your dictator! not your husband!"
She just shook her head, "sir, sometimes I feel that you are my husband"

Fiell mumbled some unintelligible words at the man, desperately trying to think of a good comeback. Unfortunately, the only thing Fiell was good at was beating the hell out of people. Which didn't look very good at a social gathering such as this.

Instead, he reached into his pocket, produced a dull metal canteen and took a swig of the contents. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then "accidentally" splashed some of the brownish contents onto Butah's trouser front.

"Oh dear, it looks like someone forgot his rubber training underwear." He growled mockingly.

"Well thank God you remembered yours." Butah chewed on the cigar, "Standard equipment to Dregruk forces now aren't they? We wouldn't want to see a repeat of the infamous Gingervitian "Aquatic Training" incident. I hear they're still trying to get the stains out of the complementary towels." He lowered his voice, "Some of the attendants are still in shock therapy. Your boys really know how to make an impact." Butah leaned back and laughed.

Don't punch him, don't punch him, don't punch.... ah screw it.

A wild look of madness crept over Fiell's features as Butah leaned back and laughed. He pulled back his massive fist and slammed it as hard as he could into the side of the man's face, knocking him to the ground.

"SMOKE ON THAT, STUPID PENCIL PUSHER!!" He yelled angrily.

"Oh.. a little action going on" Daniel smiled and jumped of his chair at the bar.
"no.. no Daniel, dont.. do--" to late, Daniel was allready there, the old man with his cane looked at Butah and Fiell, smiling.
"Now boys.. calm down.. has your troops lost their sting eh?" Daniel poked Fiell with his cane. "very manly of you.. very manly"..

The Aerionian crowds quickly stopped what they were doing as the realization that the Slutbum Wallah dictator had just been punched, and they rushed toward the scene like it was High School all over again. Women gasped, placing their black gloved hands with diamond bracelet covered arms up their mouth, and men just sort of stared. Four Ceremonial Royal Guard quickly came off the wall, and a few moments later a squad of burgundy uniformed Royal Palace Guard, the real security, rushed in. The Captain of the Royal Guard, wearing an elaborate burgundy uniform with gold tassles on the shoulders approached, frowning. "What has happened here?"

All rise for an announcement by The Most Magnanimous and Honourable King-like Leader Guy of the The Unpropitious Intractable Tor of Swan-Upping, of the corkage-free region of desolate-wonderlands; Trouser Experience.

"Hey, is this guy boring you. Why Don't you come with me I know this little place with pool tables and blue cocktails."

You may be seated The Most Magnanimous and Honourable King-like Leader Guy of the The Unpropitious Intractable Tor of Swan-Upping, of the corkage-free region of desolate-wonderlands; Trouser Experience, has left.

Fiell was already in the state of frenzy that made the Dregruk armed forces famous, so he wasn't listening very much. So when he heard someone running up and saying something to him, he immediately assumed it was another insult from a Slutbum Wallah individual.

He spun on his foot, raising a fist and threw it at the man who was unfortunate enough to speak. Right before his fist connected, Fiell's eyes widened when he say the uniform and thought, Oh crap, not again...

Butah pulled himself up, spitting smoke cigar ash into the crowd. He winced and brushed his temple with the tips of his fingers. They came back stained red. That was gonna hurt come morning. He glanced back at his crowd of tag-alongs, standing and gawping like the rest of the idiots here. "What are you waiting for?" Butah demanded, "Beat him to a pulp!" He spun round again at threw the still-smouldering cigar at Fiell, more as a gesture than anything else.

Faced with one outnumbered and probably drunk Dregruk diplomat or a firing squad, Butah's men surged forwards. As Daniel collapsed back from Fiell's blow, the enraged man was jumped from behind by three of the tag-alongs and brought to earth by the combined and unexpected weight.

"GRAAAAH!!" Yelled Fiell, as the men forced him onto the ground. He desperately tried to wrench one of his arms free, just to get him back into the fight.

What was this? Right at his fist? One of his attackers' chest?

Flicking his wrist back and forth, he pummeled the man again and again and again.

With the moment of advantage given to him, he forced out his right arm from the mass of enemy and grabbed another assailant at the back of the shirt and threw him into the crowd with a roar.

Struggling free, he stood up and reached behind his eyepatch and produced a tiny, single shot pistol. He held it menacingly at Butah, getting ready to splatter his arrogant brains across the palace, when he realised one man was still attacking him. Attached to his left arm, the man tried to grab the little pistol. Fiell struggled with him a few moments before the pistol went off. The man stopped struggling, stepped back a few steps then looked down at the rapidly expanding patch of blood on the crotch of his trousers.

"Oops..." Mumbled Fiell.

As DelTorre looked around, he saw a very strapping-looking man enter the palace, and decided to start his diplomatic efforts with him.

"Hello, good sir. If I may introduce myself, I am First Minister Tarin DelTorre of the Liberated Environs of Teatroia. Might I ask whose acquaintance I have the pleasure of making?"


Enzo Grimald turned towards the man who called him so courteously. HE was very pleased to see that he was well-mannered, unlike some other people there...

"Good evening, milord. I am glad to meet you. Let me introduce myself... I am Sir Enzo Grimald, Great Legate of the Most Serene Republic of Sidar Jabari. Don't be troubled by the title, it is very ancient... In fact, I am the Minister of Foreign Affairs. I am here to represent the sovereign of my people, The Doge Julius Serra."

Kyelski shook his head at the fighting delegates. "This will cause some sort of international incident." The Duke downed the rest of his wine and watched continually with interest.

Daniel fell backwards, landing on his back, he could count the start wich spinned around his head.. "that.. hurts"..
The old man layed still with his cane in a tight gripp, he felt his brain bumping around his head. And then it all went dark.

His secretary ran to him and kneeled beside him, shaking him. "wake up sir! wake up! WAKE UP SIR!"
Blood was comming from his chinn and the old man looked pertty well beaten up.
"MEDIC!" she yelled over the noice wich came from the struggeling men. "CAN I GET A MEDIC OVERHERE!?"

Daniel on the other hand, thought of nothing. He had passed out, in his mind it was all black and he was desperatly looking for a light.
damn this!.. where am I?!.. and who the hell turned of the light?!

The wounded man sank to his knees, whimpering slightly. The four tag-alongs paused in their assault and stared at their cruelly punished comrade. Butah stepped forwards and picked up a chair, "Good shot, considering the size of the target." He grinned maliciously, pulled back the chair and threw it forwards in an overarm toss that sailed past Fiell to smash against the head of a foreign dignatary. "Get the Dregruk scum!"

Fiell grabbed a broken chairleg from the floor and ran at Butah, yelling various insults and warcries in the process.

As the Captain falls, the Royal Guard immediately try to apprehend and hold everyone back while breaking up the fight. Pistols set to stun are fired. A medic rushes in, presumably one of the Palace's itself.. An announcement comes over the Palace intercom, "All available security personnel in area to the Throne Room, all available security personnel in area to the Throne Room."

DelTorre replys to Jabari, "It is good to meet you, Minister/Legate Grimald. Please tell me of yourself and you country so that we may learn more of each other and hopefully engage in diplomatic relations. Maybe they'll go better than others currently in progress." DelTorre gives a sidelong glance towards the melee to indicate his meaning.

DelTorre replys to Jabari, "It is good to meet you, Minister/Legate Grimald. Please tell me of yourself and you country so that we may learn more of each other and hopefully engage in diplomatic relations. Maybe they'll go better than others currently in progress." DelTorre gives a sidelong glance towards the melee to indicate his meaning.

Enzo Grimald sighed when DelTorre glanced at the melee.

"I hope so, Your Excellence. But, please, call me Enzo.

My country, Sidar Jabari, is an archipelago (five main islands and dozens of small ones). Due to strong seastreams surrounding our islands, Sidar Jabari has never been discovered by foreign explorers until 1750. Nevertheless, our people has quickly learned how to navigate through the streams. so all islands could communicate with the others. These features allowed the native Jabarians to live peacefully and develop an outstanding culture.

On each main island, lived a Jabarian Tribe ruled by a noble family. But instead of being rivals, those five families of leaders lived in harmony, and believed that the well-being of the Jabarian tribes was the top-priority. Thus, they developed trade, they never hesitated to help another tribe in difficulty and there has been no war in Sidar Jabari for thousands years. Yet, each tribe wished to remain independant.

This situation changed in 1750, when Vardunian ships ran aground, on The Isle of Scent. That island was ruled by the Serra Tribe, the wisest and most developed tribe, among which there were the most important numbers of scholars and artists.
The Vardunians (French and Quebecers) were amazingly well integrated, since they showed no bad intentions: they wanted only to live in peace. Moreover, even if they were more technologically advanced, they respected the natives and their culture and technologies, and showed the Jabarians their own culture. This strange event gave birth to the current Jabarian people and culture, which is our pride because of its originality.

But the arrival of Vardunians in Sidar Jabari had another major consequence. Some Vardunians were political advisors and they gave advice to Isaac Serra, who was then the leader of the Serra Tribe. He began to think about the future of Sidar Jabari and decided to unify all tribes.
That's why he traveled trough each island to talk with each tribe and try to convince them that Sidar Jabari needed to be unified. And he succeeded, which is astonishing!

The 31st March 1800, the five noble families who had peacefully ruled the islands: the Serra, the Zhalfir, the Grimald, the Tefeiri and the Divna, meeted in Abu Gosh, capital city of the Serra Tribe. They signed the Constitution, which unified the Jabarian Tribes and founded the modern state of Sidar Jabari.
According to the Constitution, the supreme leader, the Doge, was to be a descendant of the Serra family (not tribe). If there were no more member of the Serra family, then one of the other noble families would become the ruling family. The Doge is advised and helped by a board of five ministers, The High Council. These ministers are elected by universal suffrage every ten years. Theoretically, the Doge is an absolute monarch and he can dismiss the High Council, but in reality, he has always worked in harmony with the ministers and for the good of our people who loves him.

That was the minute of History, but it explains why our people is fierce but peaceful and believes in diplomacy above all...

But now, Sidar Jabari is a modern country, even if we are strongly attached to our unique culture and our traditions. Our people is deeply concerned by the preservation of our beautiful environment and I think that we have a very efficient legislation. We also give non-polluting and environmental technologies top priority.
But Sidar Jabari leading industry is the luxury goods industry. Indeed, the Jabarian people has woven silk, carved precious stones and amber and distilled natural perfumes for more than 1800 years.


Concerning my life, I have nothing extraordinary to tell... I have studied politics, international relationships and history for 10 years in the 'Ecole des Sciences Politiques et des Relations Internationales de Tibehirine' or ESPRIT (the best school of Sidar Jabari, located in the city of Tibehirine, if you want to become a diplomat or a high-ranking civil servant)
Then I have been elected Minister of Foreign Affairs...

[pause]

I hope that I didn't bothered or bored you... You know, the Jabarians love their country so much... [discreet smile, slightly embarassed]

But tell me more about your own country. I am curious to learn about other peoples and countries..."

Butah clutched hold of the chairleg as Fiell brought it down, blocking the strike. He threw his left arm forwards in an attempt to hook the Dregrukian in the nose but the man grabbed his clenched fist and they locked arms. The two men were held together in a frenzied struggle to free a hand and beat the other senseles. They spun round and round wildly, tranquilizer darts buzzing past their ears and into the crowds of stunned dignitaries.

As he and Fiell threw themselves across the marble floor Butah inadvertently put his foot in the Danneland dignitaries' stomach. The 300 pound man lost his balance and toppled to the floor, bringing the Dregruk ambassador with him as he fell.

The Ambassador flailed wildly as he was dragged to the floor, trying to grab a hold of Butah's hair, collar, anything, to look less of an ass and beat the living crap out of the man.

The Ambassador to the Empire of El-Sha'ladan, Dorian ken-Thorusad, enters. He is about 5' 10", with a slight build and a cheerful face. His hair is a dark gray, though he could not be over 37 years old.

As he walks into the main room, he notices the melee that is occuring. His blue eyes open wide, and his jaw nearly drops. Is this how other ambassadors and nobles acted? By the Emperor!

He notices that there are actually those who are sitting and talking amongst themselves. Hopefully, he will get invited into a conversation. The Emperor was reluctant to send him here, but Dorian had convinced him that it would be good for trade, and good for El-Sha'ladan's image in the world community.

Perhaps a drink first. He wanders off toward the open bar.

Kyelski sees a new guest enter the Room, and decides to strike up a conversation near the bar.
"Hello, sir, I'm Foerign Minister Dobromil Kyelski of the Grand Duchy of Poznon. Please, call me Dob. May I ask who you are?"

Dorian smiles, and decides conversation is more important than drink, "Good evening, Minister Kyelski. Dob, I apologize." He smiles. "I am Ambassador Dorian ken-Thorusad of the Empire of El-Sha'ladan."

Dorian extends his hand, face down, the customary greeting in his homeland, but quickly remembers himself and turns his hand sideways to shake.

"If you'd prefer, you may call me Dorian.

"I noticed, as I entered, the fight going on over there," he glances toward the chaotic display of fists and tuxedos, "and couldn't help but wonder what was going on."

Daniel sits up at an instant when Butahs foot hits his stomach, with his eyes wide open and a pale skin. It was Fiell that had hit him in the face, and he didnt get the chance to see who kicked him in the stumich. For all he knew, it was still Fiell. "WAR!.. THIS MEAN WAR YOU BASTARDS!" He gets up on his feet and pulls up a small sword from his cane. Tranquilizer darts flew around his head as he marched towards Butah and Fiell "ORDER THE MILLITARY TO MOBILIZE, DREGRUK IS GOING TO HAVE A HELL'UVA WEEKEND! " he yelled to his secretary when he engaged the two men, trying to hit either of them. "Bastards!... WORMS!"

Butah scrabbled backwards across the marble floor, Fiell lying on top of his with his hands wrapped around the dictator's throat. The Dregrukian seemed oblivious to the enraged leader behind him, and whilst he remained oblivious Butah had no escape. He scratched desperately at the hands around his neck and tried to croak out a warning before Daniel impaled the two of them, "He's... got a... sword!"

"I believe the gentlemen started the ruckus because the Slutbum one was insulting the other. Very diplomatic crowd, they are."

The burgundy uniformed Royal Guard continue to rush in, attempting to apprehend the fighters however they can. Some of them have stun batons, stun pistols, and two have a net which they attempt to cast over Daniel.

The Dregrukian's ears picked up the magic words. Words that the Dregruk Government had been waiting for someone to scream for a while.

"WAR! THIS MEANS WAR!"

Since he was on his own, he couldn't order an underling to phone home and set the military machine's gears in motion. So he'd need to do it himself.

"War! We'll go to war with you then, whoever you are!" He yelled happily, still trying to throttle the life out of Butah, and attempting to kick at whoever had screamed about the war.

It looked to be approaching the end of a rich, full day.

"Diplomatic, indeed.

We're a bit of a new country, and my experience in foreign matters is limited. This isn't how things are normally done, is it?"

A worried look crosses Dorian's face as he remembers his lack of combat training. Perhaps he should sign up for some classes when he returned to El-Sha'ladan...

Daniel slammed down into the floor as the net captured him and made him loose his balance. His eyes looked straight into Fiells, between them Daniels sword stood. "you..shall...." Daniel got dragged away by the guards, as he was about to get dragged out of the hall he screamed. WAR!.... WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!"

James and Liessa simply turned from their introduction with the Aerion brothers to see the Derek Ambassidor punch the leader of Slutbum Wallah, which then quickly turned into something of an "incident" as the following fight ensued.

However, James deGritz had seen all the action we wanted to see for sometime in the past conferences he'd been to, so he and his girlfriend retired to a safe distance to talk to the Prime Minister of Hattia, Andropov.

Though they were not very familiar with each other, their respective nations were allies. Prime Minister Andropov approached him. "Comrade DeGritz, I'm glad to see you, diplomats can be so stuffy..." Turning to Miss Valleron, "Hello Miss Valleron..." he said, bowing slightly, "I hope you do not mind me saying so, but you look absolutely radient..."

"I'd glad to see you too Comrade, all this etiquette gets on my nerves." James replied heartily.

"Thanks Prime Minister, your not looking bad yourself." She replied.

James then continued, "Come now Andropov, lets talk with a cool beer by our sides, I could do with a drink."

Finally, Fiell was dragged off Butah, leaving two large red patches on the sides of the man's neck. "You're just lucky we've got another war to deal with, Butah! Otherwise we'd smash you to pieces in two days flat!" He yelled, as he got to his feet. Looking thoughtful, he proceeded to kick the Ambassador-General in the stomach.

The crowds were now dispersing as the fight was coming to an end, but the Royal Guard were still attempting to pull Fiell back away. The Captain of the Royal Guard cleared his throat, speaking to the crowds, "The situation is handled." The Lord High Steward, head of His Majesty's government, an elderly gentleman with a white beard in an simple cut tuxedo, stepped forward. "What is going on here? This is no way for gentlemen to act." He frowns at the delegates.

The servers began to disperse through the crowd again, starting to serve the wine, and orderves again. People began talking again, though a few loomed around the scene.

Elegant classical chamber music began playing, perhaps to soothe the crowds. Three man with various instruments, and a woman playing a harp were in one corner of the throne room.

Butah deftly rolled aside, dodging Fiell's last-ditch kick as he was dragged away. He pulled himself to his feet, massaging his neck to try and get some feeling back into it, "Gentlemen?" He chuckled derisively, "Gentlemen have no place in an international discussion, you tight arsed pen-pusher. I'd suggest you remember that in future." Butah straightened his bow-tie and prodded one of his incapacitated tag-alongs with a toe. "Now if you don't mind, I have to call national security."

"Bloody idiots, quite the diplomats aren't they?" Turning back to Mr. deGritz, "Finally, someone is talking some sense!" Making his way over to the refreshments, Andropov grabbed two bottles and handed one to deGritz. He began to wobble as he opened the drink, putting out a hand to the table to steady himself, he said. "At home, no one would be so stupid as to start a fight at something like this, one of them would've ended up dead. So, how are you guys over in Iuthia doing? Good, I hope..."

James grabbed the long neck bottle of beer and took a reasonable swig out of it, meanwhile his soon to be wife, Liessa ordered a small glass of wine, leaving the two men to talk.

Despite his neat generals dress uniform, the Lord General deGritz managed to give an sense of relaxed comfort like one could have seen from a veteran on leave, drinking his beer James's stance wasn't as formal as the others and he had long ago relaxed into a more informal stance now that he was dealing with a good friend who didn't judge too harshly on apperances.

"I'd venture to say that things are going well. With my enagement with Liessa, the nation's moral is on the rise and there is a mood of celebration in the air... the economy is taking a bit of a slump but its usual for this time of the year and on the whole there isn't anything serious going on, we've had alot of soldiers take their leave recently for the good weather in the south and with our politics being smooth enough they aren't worried about being called back." James took another swig of cold beer and sighed in a pleasant manner. "It's been a pleasant couple of months..."

He then turned back to Andropov. "How about you Comrade? How are the times in Hattia these days?"

--Iuthia and Hattia--
The two Aerion brothers that were talking to Lord General Degritz turn from the fight that has now come to an end to persue further conversation with the Lord General, Miss Vallerian, and the Prime Minister of Andropov of Hattia. First Thero Lekthar spoke, "Well, unfortunate that such a fight occured, but at least no one was seriously hurt."

His brother, Daroth Lekthar, looked at his diamond studded watch on his wrist, "I wonder where His Majesty is?".

Thero Lekthar shook his head, "Most likely he will arrive fashionably late, as usual. Unless he is handling a situation."

Daroth nodded, and then smiled to the others.

Thero extended his hand to the Prime Minister of Hattia, "Ahh, yes, we did not properly introduce ourselves. I am Thero Lekthar, His Majesty's Deputy Minister of the Interior, and this is my brother Daroth Lekthar, CEO of Rathore Telecommunications."

"It has been better, apparently some people snuck across our border and settled in a village by the border. Unfortunately, they had ebola and were dead within 2 days. We had to quarantine the village and most of the people died. Of course, the country is also getting ready for the elections next month, but it looks like I don't have much competition this time around. Other than the situation with Hallad, things have been going pretty well, hopefully we can get this done through diplomacy. I'd hate to be forced to invade them..."

He then turned to the Lekthar brothers.

"Well, it looks as if plenty of people are gonna get hurt, the way Danneland's leader was shouting when he got dragged off."

"Anyway..." he said, taking Thero's hand and giving him a good strong handshake, "I am Alexei Andropov, Prime Minister of the Soviet Socialist Republic, and my companion here..." He looked around, "Well, it seems she's gotten off somewhere, well she is Minister of Diplomacy, I guess this is her kind of thing. I trust you two have been doing well...?"

James raised his glass and nodded to Alexei. "Well it's good to see our allies working towards a peaceful solution. Quite frankly I'm getting tired of all this aggressive politics business my allies have got into recently... Austar Union is having a rather ugly war with Russian Forces over the military escalations they both took part in."

James sighed, the situation in Austar Union was one of the few things clouding the good times in Iuthia, especially with the losses they were taking.

"Well, it was their choice, best leave them to it now. Still, it's good to hear things calming down in other nations."

James then allowed the two Aerion brothers to talk to the Prime Minister, finishing his bottle of beer off.

--Iuthia and Hattia-
Thero Lekthar spoke first to the Prime Minister, "Yes, we are doing fairly well. I am fairly exhausted as the Ministry of the Interior has been very busy attempting to get the local civil administrations rehashed, and in line with the Royal Government's policy. Giving out appropriate contracts, etc. A few areas are slow to change, and still used to the administration by Aerion's previous military government. Though most of the infrastructure has been brought back on-line, and up to date. My brother's company has been contracted out to do all of the major telecommunications for the national infrastructure, and government. His company is expanding to handle most of the nation's telecommunications needs soon."

His brother, Daroth, spoke, "Yes, we have facilities in every provincial capital now, and most major municipalities. Rathar Telecommunications is truly a booming corporation, we recently bought out several localized telecommunications corporations in the south."

"It's good to know that the transition is going well. Last time we switched governments, my country regressed about 100 years technologically wise, though our transition to socialism helped quicken the process of rebuilding. Now, I don't much care for private corporations myself, but as long as you pay and treat the workers well, I have no quarrel with you."

Andropov pulled a ringing cell phone out of his suit. After listening for a few seconds, he put it back in his suit. "Kase! Irina, masse nalas tero!" He went up to the exit. "I apologize for my premature exit, but I have very pressing matters of state to attend to." He and Irina then ran down to their helicopter...