Valinon
07-03-2006, 19:09
Across the depths of space and time a transmission goes out throughout the universe. There is a deep, roaring bass fanfare—as if the Imperial March was simultaneously played by at least a half dozen full orchestras. An image rapidly resolves itself and the world looks on a distant forgotten memory, the bold silver and gold letters “ILoG” flanked on either side by the flags and pageantry of the universe’s greatest imperial powers past and present.
The fanfare, pageantry, and lettering are soon replaced by the familiar features of Sean Connery in a full safari kit, casually wielding a Martini-Henry carbine. He stands defiantly on a dirt and rock outcropping on the dusty, primitive plains of the Serengeti. Connery tracks a distant target and calmly pulls the trigger, the gun roar and he nods with satisfaction before turning to fully face the camera.
“Friends, colleagues, fellow Gentlemen, years ago many of you may remember the trial we Imperialists faced at the hands of the discrimination of the Anti-Imperialist League and other self-righteous organizations of that kind. At the direct invitation of Emperor Gustav Alderman I of Valinon we honorable gentlemen came together to resist this imposition to our way of life and formed the Imperialist League of Gentlemen. It was a great honor, and a great privilege that I accepted the role of President and Premiere of this organization. Together we all enjoyed the comforts, pursuits, and pleasures of our mutual lifestyles in a setting that demonstrated to other errant organizations that their practices against us were both heartless and cruel. After all, did we bother anyone? Or caused undue grief to the international community? Hardly, if our little fraternal organization caused ‘grief’ then it is quite clear these other organizations were founded so they could overlook the greater problems of the world.”
Connery shoulders his rifle and starts to casually walk away from the small outcropping.
“Unfortunately, time has not stood still in the ensuing years since the League was founded. We have all felt the loss of those years. They have claimed some of our best—like our founding patron Emperor Gustav I, the honorable House Callahan of Iansisle, and the royal blood of the Principality of Taka. And it is time the League rallied once more to reassert itself among these times of change, to preserve our lifestyle, and to enact a few changes of our own.”
Connery’s slow stride takes him to a stark white tent be attended to by a small plethora of Indian and African servants. One of the Indians in ballooning white pants and a simple vest cautiously approaches carrying a silver tray with a high-balled glass on it.
“A Scotch for the, pukka sahib?” he says meekly.
“Ah, yes, please,” Connery takes the glass. “That is why it is my great pleasure and honor to introduce Empress Friedelinde Alderman I, the new patron of the League.”
Empress Friedlinde, resplendent in a long, flowing white sundress, her red-gold hair surrounding her shoulders with fire smiles as she walks up beside Connery and puts her arm around the one Connery offers.
“Thank you, Mr. Connery. You summed all that up nicely. Indeed it is time for the members of the League to do a little housekeeping as it were. First off there is a few matters of policy the members of our little League have decided to change. The term ‘Gentlemen’ should not be interpreted literally, first off,” Friedelinde smiles, “after all, we women can play golf why not let us help preserve the rest of our lifestyle? Also, all members are unanimous in the decision that the League should be opened to alternate forms of imperialist—especially our colleagues in the corporate arena. We all must ban together or we all hang separately. As for the other changes, well they involve adding some new sporting events and other celebratory functions to our gatherings that Mr. Connery, the other members, and myself have chosen to keep as our little secrets. After all, in order to revamp an organization you need at least a few surprises. Correct, Mr. Connery?”
Connery nods, “Quite so, Your Majesty. I would also like to remind our prospective new members out there that these changes will not alter the essential principles of our organization. The League will still strive to protect our rights, our way of life, and above all else celebrate in a matter befitting our mutual stature. After all, if we changed that we would be as drab, repressive, and utterly mindless as the people we are pushing back against.”
Friedelinde nods, “I cannot argue with that. And I look forward to seeing all our current members and hopefully new faces joining Mr. Connery and myself at our little celebration. But, if you will excuse us, we must be off. I hate to miss the opening round of Tank Polo.”
“Actually,” Connery adds as the camera starts to drift off, “if Your Majesty will excuse me, I believe I will be off to see the latest match-up in the Native Scavenger Safari Hunt. I hear there is a new quite virulent acquisition from Afghanistan on the field….”
The scene dissolves and the ILoG emblem once again appears. After a few moments music roars to life and new words appear.
“The Imperialist League of Gentlemen, proudly fighting for the rights of international imperialists everywhere! Gladly providing safe environs for its members to relax, gather, and enjoying themselves for years and years!”
OOC: As is noted in the List of Alliances drifting about the forum, the Imperialist League of Gentlemen is not a binding alliance, and is effectively a “stag alliance”. It is a place where those possessing wealth, power, and a overly developed sense of superiority can gather together and properly blow holes in the likes of the Anti-Imperialist League and their disgusting bleeding-heart opinions. The ILoG will welcome these individuals one and all!
The fanfare, pageantry, and lettering are soon replaced by the familiar features of Sean Connery in a full safari kit, casually wielding a Martini-Henry carbine. He stands defiantly on a dirt and rock outcropping on the dusty, primitive plains of the Serengeti. Connery tracks a distant target and calmly pulls the trigger, the gun roar and he nods with satisfaction before turning to fully face the camera.
“Friends, colleagues, fellow Gentlemen, years ago many of you may remember the trial we Imperialists faced at the hands of the discrimination of the Anti-Imperialist League and other self-righteous organizations of that kind. At the direct invitation of Emperor Gustav Alderman I of Valinon we honorable gentlemen came together to resist this imposition to our way of life and formed the Imperialist League of Gentlemen. It was a great honor, and a great privilege that I accepted the role of President and Premiere of this organization. Together we all enjoyed the comforts, pursuits, and pleasures of our mutual lifestyles in a setting that demonstrated to other errant organizations that their practices against us were both heartless and cruel. After all, did we bother anyone? Or caused undue grief to the international community? Hardly, if our little fraternal organization caused ‘grief’ then it is quite clear these other organizations were founded so they could overlook the greater problems of the world.”
Connery shoulders his rifle and starts to casually walk away from the small outcropping.
“Unfortunately, time has not stood still in the ensuing years since the League was founded. We have all felt the loss of those years. They have claimed some of our best—like our founding patron Emperor Gustav I, the honorable House Callahan of Iansisle, and the royal blood of the Principality of Taka. And it is time the League rallied once more to reassert itself among these times of change, to preserve our lifestyle, and to enact a few changes of our own.”
Connery’s slow stride takes him to a stark white tent be attended to by a small plethora of Indian and African servants. One of the Indians in ballooning white pants and a simple vest cautiously approaches carrying a silver tray with a high-balled glass on it.
“A Scotch for the, pukka sahib?” he says meekly.
“Ah, yes, please,” Connery takes the glass. “That is why it is my great pleasure and honor to introduce Empress Friedelinde Alderman I, the new patron of the League.”
Empress Friedlinde, resplendent in a long, flowing white sundress, her red-gold hair surrounding her shoulders with fire smiles as she walks up beside Connery and puts her arm around the one Connery offers.
“Thank you, Mr. Connery. You summed all that up nicely. Indeed it is time for the members of the League to do a little housekeeping as it were. First off there is a few matters of policy the members of our little League have decided to change. The term ‘Gentlemen’ should not be interpreted literally, first off,” Friedelinde smiles, “after all, we women can play golf why not let us help preserve the rest of our lifestyle? Also, all members are unanimous in the decision that the League should be opened to alternate forms of imperialist—especially our colleagues in the corporate arena. We all must ban together or we all hang separately. As for the other changes, well they involve adding some new sporting events and other celebratory functions to our gatherings that Mr. Connery, the other members, and myself have chosen to keep as our little secrets. After all, in order to revamp an organization you need at least a few surprises. Correct, Mr. Connery?”
Connery nods, “Quite so, Your Majesty. I would also like to remind our prospective new members out there that these changes will not alter the essential principles of our organization. The League will still strive to protect our rights, our way of life, and above all else celebrate in a matter befitting our mutual stature. After all, if we changed that we would be as drab, repressive, and utterly mindless as the people we are pushing back against.”
Friedelinde nods, “I cannot argue with that. And I look forward to seeing all our current members and hopefully new faces joining Mr. Connery and myself at our little celebration. But, if you will excuse us, we must be off. I hate to miss the opening round of Tank Polo.”
“Actually,” Connery adds as the camera starts to drift off, “if Your Majesty will excuse me, I believe I will be off to see the latest match-up in the Native Scavenger Safari Hunt. I hear there is a new quite virulent acquisition from Afghanistan on the field….”
The scene dissolves and the ILoG emblem once again appears. After a few moments music roars to life and new words appear.
“The Imperialist League of Gentlemen, proudly fighting for the rights of international imperialists everywhere! Gladly providing safe environs for its members to relax, gather, and enjoying themselves for years and years!”
OOC: As is noted in the List of Alliances drifting about the forum, the Imperialist League of Gentlemen is not a binding alliance, and is effectively a “stag alliance”. It is a place where those possessing wealth, power, and a overly developed sense of superiority can gather together and properly blow holes in the likes of the Anti-Imperialist League and their disgusting bleeding-heart opinions. The ILoG will welcome these individuals one and all!