NationStates Jolt Archive

"Life is very short and there's no time
for fussing and fighting, my friend"

--The Beatles, We Can Work it Out

Foreign Minister Tiloka Kit nods in approval as he surveys the newly completed Foreign Quarter from a hilltop in central Ali'Staan. Turning to his entouage, he beams brightly. "Excellent work, gentlemen. I am very impressed with your efforts here and I'm sure the Angsiyan will share in my excitement."

Master Engineer Erich Becker bows politely. "I am glad the project meets with your approval, my lord. Finishing touches should be complete within the next couple of days."

Kit scans the sky for a moment in thought and the corners of his mouth tug downward--not in a frown, but in an expression one might use in concession of a point. "Fair enough," he starts, before reaching into his jacket pocket for an envelope. "As agreed, here is the remainder of your commission, with a special letter of thanks from my Ministry. We've all been very anxious to get this off the ground."

"Indeed," replies Becker simply as he reaches for the envelope, not bothering to open it at present. "I sincerely hope this project meets with the success it deserves."

Becker and his crews had just finished constructing a monstrous Foreign Quarter-- a 10 year project that had reshaped much of the older slums in Ali'Staan into land suitable for embassies. A few had already been built but much of the land still remained bare but well groomed, as it was generally assumed that some would prefer to build their own. Housed in the south-central section of the city, the Foreign Quarter took up about ten square miles, with wide thoroughfares leading out from the south, east, and west. Becker, a Dunlending, had designed most of the buildings with a pseudo-gothic flair: with ornamental stone works and releifs over some of the larger walkways and entrances; although nothing was overly showy or ostentatious. Tenants who didn't like them could easily remove even the largest of the fixtures; and even the pre-constructed embassies were designed to be easily modified, according to the architectural tastes of the parent country.

In the center of the Foreign Quarter Becker had built a series of gardens, a small theatre, and several upscale restaurants to entertain potentially overworked dignitaries. Boasting an independent transit system, with ample (and high quality) apartment housing, the Ardan Foreign Quarter had also been designed with a mind towards tourism. Ardan citizens had little or no interaction with foreign cultures at this point, and the government had hopes on making money off of this deficiency.

Kit grins. "I'm glad the Angsiyan chose your sketches, Becker. If it's half as nice as it looks from here, our Foreign Quarter will be the envy of all." He stops for a moment and purses his lips. "Lets go down for a closer look!" he suggests, his prior comment perhaps reminding him that he had not physically visited the Foreign Quarter since about halfway through its construction.

Becker laughs a bit and beckons to the small group of aides behind him. "You heard the man. Let's get on down there."


## OPEN BROADCAST
## TARGET: All Nations

The Foreign Ministry of the Five Kingdoms of Arda is pleased to announce that construction is finished on a complex in Ali'Staan intended for the housing of Embassies and other foreign buildings.

We seek to affect our re-entry into the outside world with this project, and to use it as an impetus to renew diplomatic undertakings. Given the time that has passed since Arda's last forays into foreign affairs, we would like to remind our old enemies that drastic changes have come to our region. As a result, some diplomatic channels that were once closed at the order of Morgoth are no longer so.

We urge all nations with an interest in diplomacy to take full advantage of this new development. Tentative plans are in place for an opening celebration, and an exact date will be set once the extent of foreign interest becomes known.

Please do not be frightened by our past. With the Black Enemy gone, Arda has discharged itself of his influence and seeks to combat him with any possible means. While we realize that no written or verbal guarantees will be enough to assuage widespread fears, we hope nations will allow us to clarify our purpose with honest and resolute action.

--Foreign Minister Tiloka Kit

Directed via RevNet tranny, thru Portal-Node Calirnevris V

'The Star Supremacy of Revenia would very much like to be one of the first to welcome the Five Kingdoms in its return from isolationism. This is always a joyous occasion, one presumes. Consider us interested."

The missive was signed

"His Niftiness, Sero Relaren, Lord Administrator, High Chancellor of Revenia, Earl Hightower."

Edna, the individual delivering the missive, was not of Revenian origin, but was rather an earthly hireling, likely from Der Angst or Menelmacar.

The news that the Five Kingdoms had changed and was now opening its door to diplomats had been met with some scepticism by the council. Not that this is particularly surprising considering the history between Yvresse and the Five Kingdoms, both nations had tried invading the other at some point or other. Still the Kionash where not exactly going to let the opportunity slide, if it did prove truthful.

Instead they would send someone, expendable, to the Kioansh that could be interpreted to mean simply someone Human to be their Ambassador along with others who would make up the majority of the staff. That way when the inevitable, as they saw it, occurred well what was the death of a few Humans to the Farseer Council?

Selecting a reasonably competent human was a little more difficult, eventually through they went with a former member of the Haranshemesh ’parliament’ he was loyal, a decent enough speaker, and more importantly looked the part, having been a former member of the government. So it was that Pelton Gavvarone found himself on route to Earth.


To Foreign Minister Tiloka Kit.

Greetings from the Kiegh of Tor Yvresse.
We welcome this new age, and this move with great joy and hope. As such we take pride in being able to respond. Eventually we would hope to construct our own embassy using our own peoples, but this is a long term project, that will likely require some negotiation between our governments.

In the interests of reciprocating this gesture, we extend to you the option as always to establish an embassy at Haranshemesh.

On behalf of the High Farseer

Farseer Darvins of the Council,
Tor Yvresse

Deep within runed command chamber of the Nexus command bunker the news was given to Bridgette by a rotting, putrid slime dripping, wasted creature that was only vaguely humanoid.
She quickly sent a reply over the secure comm system.



The Government of Iesus Christi is pleased to answer this call extended by our friend of old. Our ancient friendship extends into the distant past but there is no reason that our friendship should not now continue into the far future…for truly God is with us now as he has always been.
I send you Ambassador Alexander Orson. His heart is true and his desire for our renewed friendship is sincere….I pray God may work through him.
With him I send you also our promise that we consider our bond of friendship still alive thus if you need anything we are prepared to help. From the earth to the stars, a new range of Iesus technology and people waits and longs to help you our old friends.

Bridgette Iesus
Ministry of Social order

-What do you make of this?
-It fits in with our long term plans. Mind you, we don’t know exactly what their stance is regarding Yut. Some unconfirmed reports imply that some nations belonging to that alliance actually did lend aid during the civil war in the Five Kingdoms.
-Indeed. Besides, we can be a vanguard for perhaps greater Klatchian ties with Arda.
-I don’t think as many states within the FKC will share our…sensibilities.
-It matters not. But we shall proceed cautiously. Diplomacy does not necessarily mean agreement.

====

To: Foreign Minister Tiloka Kit
From: The Vrak Ministry of Rites
Subject: Possible embassy

We are quite interested in applying for an embassy in your lands. Consider this a letter of intent for pursuing further diplomatic exchanges between our respective powers.

[The Great Seal of the Vrak Ministry of Rites]


OOC: Very occasional posting for the next month or so. But I could not pass this up.

"**** what?" The supervisor looked at Barham Jr with a raised eyebrow at the man's language and replied with polite but sharp clarity.

"The Five Kingdoms. Assuming clearence your appointment begins in a week."

"****. I mean, I'm sorry but....****... I've been doing this less than twelve months now, I mean, experience-wise even I'm happy to admit there's no way I can..."

"This is" The chief placed a pair of thick lensed glasses on the table. "...an opportunity few of your fellows will have at this stage in their careers. Consider it a make or break challenge if you will. Having known you for a while Chris...I think we both know the answer."

************
To: Foreign Minister Tiloka Kit
From: Sir Alex Broxtowe, Foreign Minister - Freethinker Government
RE: Embassy application

Dear Sir,
The opportunity to establish relations anew in this world is one both fortunate and rare.

I submit both an application for an embassy within the foreign assaigned district, plans (attached) for said structure, and the application for the approval of our assigned ambassador, Chris Barham.

Yours sincerely

Sir Alex Broxtowe
Foreign Minister of His Majesty's Freethinker Government

Vaadian interest, and suspicion, was peaked.

To:Foreign Minister Tiloka Kit
From: Sir Alec Connover, Minister of Foreign Affairs

Minister Kit,
The Free Republic would be pleased to explore the possibility of diplomat relations with your nation and the possibility of an embassy exchange.

I would be further pleased to send a Special Envoy from the Republican Council to discuss the details of such arrangements at your earliest Convenience.

I await your reply,

Sir Alec Connonver
Minister of Foreign Affairs
The Free Republic of Ilek-Vaad

“This is certainly interesting,” the older of the two ladies looked at the other, a piece of paper in her hand. “It appears the Five Kingdoms of Arda are trying to establish embassies.”

The Empress of Tartarus looked up from the document she was signing, a slight frown on her face. “Let me see.”

As if expecting the request, Emma Sarie, Minister of Foreign Affairs, held out the sheet that she was reading and passed it to Gehenna. The Empress placed her pen on the desk and studied the invitation.

“This is a situation that we cannot ignore,” Gehenna noted, as she looked up from the paper, having read through it twice to make sure she had not missed something. “Send a preliminary not of interest and see what happens. It is not as if it is set in stone if we make our interest known.”

Emma paused for moment. “Our knowledge of the Five Kingdoms is very limited. Do you think it is wise?”

Smiling, Gehenna nodded her head. “Perfectly. It would be foolish to not make their acquaintance just because we have not in the past. The Empire of Tartarus must stop looking just beyond its shores. And as we have no history, there should be no problem with us establishing an embassy.”

“You are not concerned by the recent change in government?” Emma asked.

“I see no reason to be,” Gehenna smiled, as she settled back into the chair. “Send word to the Minister that we are very interested in establishing relations and an acquiring embassy in the Five Kingdoms.”

Emma made a note, and once her visit with Gehenna was completed, she dictated a letter to be sent. The Empress signed it two hours later.

Replies were promptly forthcoming after a missive was received. They came either from Kit or his deputy, and were sent out even at odd times of the night. The channel was always broadcast from the main panel of Kit's office through a tightbeam transmission in a much different manner than the first, open broadcast. Ardan Ministers usually enjoyed extensive autonomy in their fields, although the vagaries of foreign politics often obligated Kit to stay in close contact with Althalon. Foreign correspondents soon found that, depending on the hour of the Ardan response, they often enjoyed the pleasure of having woke both Althalon and his Foreign Minister at an ungodly hour.


The Star Supremacy of Revenia would very much like to be one of the first to welcome the Five Kingdoms in its return from isolationism. This is always a joyous occasion, one presumes. Consider us interested.

The reply is swift and terse. This appears to have been one such incident. Deputy Foreign Minister Andan Rabani is awake, but probably needed some prodding to get there. He speaks quickly, but politely:

"Arda thanks Revenia for its interest, and looks forward to receiving a delegation from the Star Supremacy. The Foreign Office has made preparations on your arrival on or after May the 14th. Full diplomatic corps can be admitted upon arrival if you want to move into a prefab; or upon construction of your own embassy if you choose to build one instead.

We hope this to be the beginning of a long and fruitful relationship. Eru's blessings be upon you."

***

To Foreign Minister Tiloka Kit.

Greetings from the Kiegh of Tor Yvresse.
We welcome this new age, and this move with great joy and hope. As such we take pride in being able to respond. Eventually we would hope to construct our own embassy using our own peoples, but this is a long term project, that will likely require some negotiation between our governments.

In the interests of reciprocating this gesture, we extend to you the option as always to establish an embassy at Haranshemesh.

On behalf of the High Farseer

Farseer Darvins of the Council,
Tor Yvresse

"We are willing to accomodate the needs of the Yvressi as far as we are able," begins Kit cooly. "We encourage you to send a delegation to examine the build site and pick out a plot. We can offer you one of our prefabricated buildings in the meantime, which you can modify as you see fit.

"Please do not hesitate to contact us again if and when any additional concerns arise: in the meantime we look forward to your arrival on or after May the 18th. At this date or any time after you can send your staff as neccesary once you've selected a location."

The Easterling smiles politely. "We endeavor to seek redress against Morgoth's more violent opponents, and the Yvressi we feel have earned their status as such. Hopefully our embassies will aid us both in our struggle against his inlfluence. We feel it is strongly likely that an embassy will be sough on Haranshemesh if you so approve, although of course discussions will certainly be forthcoming on that matter later this month. We honor this chance to redeem ourselves."

***

The Government of Iesus Christi is pleased to answer this call extended by our friend of old. Our ancient friendship extends into the distant past but there is no reason that our friendship should not now continue into the far future…for truly God is with us now as he has always been.
I send you Ambassador Alexander Orson. His heart is true and his desire for our renewed friendship is sincere….I pray God may work through him.
With him I send you also our promise that we consider our bond of friendship still alive thus if you need anything we are prepared to help. From the earth to the stars, a new range of Iesus technology and people waits and longs to help you our old friends.

"The aid of Iesus Christi, in some of Arda's darkest hours have not been forgotten," begins Kit reverently. "Once again, we in Arda are compelled to offer our deepest thanks to one of our oldest and most steadfast allies."

"However," he continues, his tone assuming a more businesslike demeanor, "we cannot stress the importance of our administration changes enough. Before relations can continue as they have in the past, we must be certain that the Iesus family stands behind Arda and not Morgoth."

His voice changes back to its initial tone of honored familiarity. "Nonetheless we are confident ties will remain strong as they ever were. We cannot imagine that such a pious nation would continue to seek favor from the Black Enemy. We would be honored to receive a delegation from Iesus Christi on or after May the 14th. Eru's blessings be upon you."

***

We are quite interested in applying for an embassy in your lands. Consider this a letter of intent for pursuing further diplomatic exchanges between our respective powers.

Rabani fields this one. "We welcome the chance to forge new ties as well as to strengthen old ones. Little is known within our borders concerning the lands of Vrak, and we are happy for the possibility of expanding our knowledge with what we all hope is a productive exchange.

"We can accept a delegation on or after May 18th. We have a number of prefabricated sites, or you can inspect an empty plot and build your own if you wish. Please accept our thanks..." he bows, "and may Eru's blessings be upon you."

***

Dear Sir,
The opportunity to establish relations anew in this world is one both fortunate and rare.

I submit both an application for an embassy within the foreign assaigned district, plans (attached) for said structure, and the application for the approval of our assigned ambassador, Chris Barham.

Rabani's voice is vibrant and a bit curious, laden of course with his heavy Southron accent. "Indeed, these opportunities are seldom ones we can afford to ignore. We thank the Freethinker Government for their interest.

"Arda would be honored to accept a delegation here in Ali'Staan on or after May 14th. Diplomats and other personnel can be moved into your building once complete, or immediately if you choose a prefabricated building. May Eru's blessings be upon you."

***


The Free Republic would be pleased to explore the possibility of diplomat relations with your nation and the possibility of an embassy exchange.

I would be further pleased to send a Special Envoy from the Republican Council to discuss the details of such arrangements at your earliest Convenience.

The Deputy Foreign Minister's response is breezy and short. A few shadows pass over the light to Rabani's right, so something else is going on in the room.

"The Foreign Office is overwhelmed by the responses from our neighbors. We welcome the chance to forge new relations, and would be honored to accept a delegation from the Free Republic at or after May 14th. Details for the acceptance of diplomatic corps will be discussed at that date. May Eru's blessings be upon you."

***
The note from Gehenna and the Yvressi's response were the only two so far that had been handled on a level above the Foreign Office. The Angsiyan's office had intervened upon the reception of these and dictated a more specific response. Most of the men in the Foreign Office had few illusions about keeping on good terms with the Yvressi, so Althalon's hand in the response was a welcome one. Althalon's immediate requisition of the letter was a curious order to the Foreign Office. Gehenna wasn't the only head of state to have answered personally, which added to their confusion. Rabani and Kit had their suspicions, but kept them quiet.

Althalon's reply came just like so many in history hand written on thick paper with a wax stamp. It read:

'Empress Gehenna,

Your Empire is one of many we were forced to forsake in darker times, when other powers ruled over these lands. We regret that to the world's ear our history is a violent and corrupt one, consumed by a powerful evil to which we remained enslaved for some time. The violence remains--to the North we still wage a constant war, but Arda flourishes without Morgoth. The standard of living is on a steady rise; and the violent persecution of the Elves has ended entirely.

Nonetheless, we realize no one in their right mind can come to us without a healthy amount of caution! We would not ask anyone to abandon their vigilance. I very much look forward to receiving a delegation on or after May 11th, at your earliest convenience. Please accept my gratitude and greatest wishes for a long and peaceful friendship.

Cordially yours,

--Konrad Althalon'

"The Foreign Office is overwhelmed by the responses from our neighbors. We welcome the chance to forge new relations, and would be honored to accept a delegation from the Free Republic at or after May 14th. Details for the acceptance of diplomatic corps will be discussed at that date. May Eru's blessings be upon you."

Sir Alec replied promptly.

Excellent. The Republican Council will empower a Special Envoy and have him readied to travel by the 14th of May.

I look forward to the possibility of establishing friendly relations with your nation.

Sir Alec Connover
Minister of Foreign Affairs
The Free Republic of Ilek-Vaad

“We never really had much cooperation or relations with the Five Kingdoms,” the Minister of Foreign Affairs, High Count Ithun of Var-Gellath, said, clicking his way through a number of files on the hologram in front of him. “Not even when we were part of the GDODAD. Lord Melkor’s hate for all things pointy eared made such cooperation a bit complicated from the point of view of the interior situation in our country.

“With our relatively important elvish community, which was proportionally larger back in the days of your father as we had not yet expanded south into Uthar and east into Tavaroth… And us other Taraskath also being considered by many as “pointy eared”, despite it not being completely true...”

The Grand Duke of all Taraskovya smirked at the Foreign Minister’s joke and shook his head lightly. But his words were true. Throughout the times of the GDODAD the Grand Duchy was largely apart from the alliance. When cooperation with Arda came to form, the Grand Duchy yet again kept its distance, preferring a more neutral and cautious policy to outright leaning towards one single side.

“Now that they seem to undertake a more… balanced policy, I believe it would not hurt approaching them. Have a courier readied.”

“Doing the old fashioned way?” The Foreign Minister arched an eyebrow.

“Indeed. Traditions are traditions,” Mikhail said with a smile.

And so a courier team was readied and a message was written, on heraldic paper, with all the seals and handwriting of the Grand Duke. Of course, it was much easier to send a transmission, but according to traditions, when there was no contact, contact had to first be established properly. And Taraskovyans held their traditions dear.

Federation of Sentient Peoples Enclave, Foreign Quarter, Ali'Staan, The Five Kingdoms

It was perhaps a month after Foreign Quarter had opened, when, as had been previously discussed by Minister Currey in the initial contact with the Five Kingdoms during their war with the Empire of Automagfreeks, the Federation representatives arrived. They had sent in a Federation construction team to coordinate with the locals, to install the systems which, frankly, despite the friendliness that was slowly developing between the Federation and the Five Kingdoms, were not to be trusted to the locals.

A full squadron of fighters had escorted yet another full squadron, this one of dropships containing the embassy staff. Admittedly, it was pretty much unnecessary for the staff to occupy all four of the dropships which made of the squadron, even with the company of the Space Marines that were being sent to secure the facility. As it was, the perhaps three hundred people were spread out comfortably. Accompanying these ships was a further vessel, in this case, an Eagle-class Diplomatic Shuttle, which contained the Ambassador to the Five Kingdoms, which was a special appointment.

Honestly, given the state of modern communications, a permanent Ambassador was not strictly necessary, and it was unlikely the Ambassador would be spending all their time in residence. But it was enough to say that there was an embassy to the Five Kingdoms, a country which had one point been far too much of an enemy to consider such, even had they been allowing it at the time.

The embassy itself was rather unspectacular, in a Federation sort of way. A three story neo-colonial style manor house stood above carefully manicured gardens, connected to what was obviously a stable, a hydroponics building, and a small structure that was far less identifiable. Most of the grounds were taken up by a very large grassy field with a baseball diamond in one corner, which as the ships came down, cracked lengthwise down the middle. It peeled back slowly. opening wide enough to admit the dropships and the far smaller fighters and shuttle, then ground back into position, the barest hint of a crease in the grass eventually to be erased by the wind.

Inside the embassy was a different story altogether, compared the gentile outside. The three floors of the house appeared, in general to fit in with the external vision that was presented, with tiled marble and inlaid wood flooring, fancy wall coverings, paintings done in the classical styles and a handful of sculptures spread about. A large formal dining area and a ballroom dominated the first floor, with official offices taking over the second, and the highest ranking members of the delegation receiving lodgings on the third. Five more stories extending underground, including duplicates of the upper two floors, though in a far more utilitarian design, and lodging for the lower ranking staff members extending below that. The final floor was level with the hanger floor, and contained a large white room which would function as a situation room for the Ambassador, and a small military style command station, which would allow for monitoring of military situations which would directly concern the embassy.

Trees native to the Federation and the areas of the Five Kingdoms in which trees still grew dotted the relatively small portion of the grounds not covered by the baseball field, along with a decently sized pond with a small fountain in it decorating the curve of the main 'drive' up to the front of the embassy. The entire complex was surrounded by a basically decorative wrought iron topped two meter high brick fence, which was studded in strategic locations by what were very clearly guard shacks designed to hold Marines in two and a half meter high battle armor.

The staff quickly spread through the embassy, most following their instructions to settle in before assuming their duties. The two squads of Marines assigned to guard duty upon arrival spread quickly to their assigned positions, the semi-powered armor they wore gleaming its very neutral green over black. The Stars and Sword rose up a flagpole erected at the curve of the drive, between the paved area and the pond, guided on its anachronistic way by two of the Space Marines.

Eighth Ambassador Tobias Mulvehill, Ambassador to the Five Kingdoms, and Undersecretary without Portfolio of International Relations, surveyed his new bedroom with a smile. The bed looked large and comfortable, and the room was very tastefully furnished and decorated all around in what was clearly an explosion of the warm end of the spectrum, combined with a swirling mass of grey. Shocking, perhaps, but in a good way. Tobias only hoped his office looked half as nice. He decided that It Would Do.

OOC: Melk, you can remove this (since I can't delete my own posts) if you'd prefer I wait until after our conversation is actually concluded. I have it saved.

The New Tartarian Embassy, Ali'Staan


Following a discussion with Emma Sarie, Foreign Secretary and Stuart Marsden, Home Secretary, Empress Gehenna declared that they would accept a pre-constructed embassy. In the Empire it was very rare for a foreign nation to be granted the right to build their own embassy. They would be able to make amendments, but due to the age of certain parts of the capital city of Erebus, new builds were limited, unless somewhere less central was required.

With this in mind, it seemed only reasonable to accept one of the already built embassies, due also to the ease of moving in. The Empire decided that it would not like to wait the many months it would take to build and furbish. A message was sent to the Five Kingdoms with a request.

On the twelfth of May, the delegation from Tartarus arrived at their newly acquired embassy. The party was made up of Oriana Castile, the appointed Tartarian Ambassador to the Five Kingdoms and her assistants Dylan Peters and Kim Grantham. As a show of respect, Gehenna’s cousin, Lord Val Stratton was there to represent the Empress herself, and would partake in the official opening of the embassy, and his aid, Nicola Cornick.

They were all joined by the usual array of diplomatic staff. They had arrived the day before to prepare everything for the arrival of diplomatic party. Following a large amount of hustle and bustle through the night, the place was looking a little more like a well oiled piece of machinery the moment they walked through the door.

“It appears that we are in,” Lord Stratton declared as he stepped through the main door and let his gaze move around, taking in as many details as her could. He was not surprised that none of the large fixtures had been removed, and the place was barely any different on the outside to the way it was built. The inside had remained pretty much the same too, with only the bare minimum of alterations.

Oriana nodded, from her place beside Val, behind them walked their assistants. “I never thought that we would be standing here.” Her eyes, like her companions, took in the area around her. She would be calling the place home for a while, longer if she did a good job. “Who would have thought that things would have changed so much in Arda?”

“It is a change for the better,” said Lord Val, as he led the party deeper into the embassy. “Of course, we must hope that the nation remains stable for the foreseeable future.”

The Ambassador moved them quickly down the hallway, barely pausing to greet the members of staff she knew by face. As they passed by open doors leading to offices, they watched as boxes and other treasures were being unpacked from large crates that had been shipped from Tartarus. The place looked like chaos…organised but still chaos.

Simple and secure, a courier arrived via commercial transport and presented a packet at the offices of the Foreign Ministry in Ali'Staan. Inside, printed on flimsy plastic embossed with the seal and flag of Sunset, was the following:


Minister Tiloka Kit,

After due consideration of your offer I have, with authorization from President Silaco, decided to accept your offer of an embassy in Ali'Staan. Your desire to explore new avenues of diplomacy appeals to me and I feel it is time to lay aside the ordained animousity of our positions. With your permission and some additional information I would like to have it in place as soon as possible.

My plans and the needed information are as follows. If you would be so kind as to have a copy of the layout of the foreign district forwarded to me I will have an appropriate building prepared for our selected site. This building and my subordinate and her staff will be shipped to Ali'Staan via a mutually agreeable method of transport and placed onsite. Before we take occupancy you would be allowed to tour and inspect the building.

If this is acceptable, or if you have any questions or conditions, I hope to hear from you shortly.

Ambassador K'ym'ko,
Secretariat of State,
Republic of Sunset

The Ambassador and his staff would need to be diverted to the Isle around Menelmacar but it would at the very least allow Galdern to brief the human, and his staff. For now the Council would take one of the prefabricated buildings, later, when resources allowed, they would send in Bonesingers to create a true Yvresse embassy, until then, it would be the Ambassador’s first job to obfuscate the delay as much as possible. To find convincing reasons why construction at the site had not begun already, ones that did not reveal to the wider world or to a past enemy of Yvresse, who they where, officially on paper still at war with, that they where so stretched at the moment. (Although the official at war status was something the council had no intentions of pushing very hard on. If both states where willing to let the matter slide, it would do so.)

All this meant the man was bored, after a few briefings from the Farseer and his own staff he had very little to do but wander the Island itself and look at the scenery in many ways through he was glad, he had no doubts that once he reached the Five Kingdoms he would have a lot less free time. For a start, the simple fact was they would likely be one of the more distrusted embassies in Arda, he’d have to work hard to get listened too, and he had no doubts that the ‘New age’ would at times look very much like the older one, just with an actual line of communication before things went belly up.

This also meant he would need to work out an evacuation procedure, for his entire staff when, or if in his more optimistic moods, it did all go wrong, After that, few spoke of it, but all knew it, the other purpose of embassies, to run intelligence gathering operations within the host nation, quite frankly within Arda Yvresse was rather weak in this area, that would need to be rectified. And oh ‘lucky’ me guess which poor idiot gets that job…. Sometimes I wonder if the council just has it in for me.

Deep inside was another thought, his Parents had came to Haranshemesh from Earth, fleeing some poor benighted nation that had been attacked by one of Arda’s allies, and they had always blamed Arda in part for that. The might of Morgoth had given succour to its allies, and this in turn, allowed their often more aggressive natures to prosper. This in turn had led his Parents to abandon their homes and dreams and seek shelter on the often violent world of Mars. He had been raised, along with many others in Haranshemesh to hate Arda, both from his parents and more subtly from the government itself.

Yet here he was about to be ambassador to a people he really didn’t like very much, and he would be forced to nod his head, and be friendly with people in his gut, that he hated.

While the King was still off on some sort of off-plane adventure that nobody had been notified of, Aseroth Xiloscient was temporarily in command of the nation. Though Bryn Shander had never interacted with the Five Kingdoms in the slightest, they shared many of the same enemies. Perhaps it would not be a bad idea to establish diplomatic contact.



TO: Ardan Foreign Office
FROM: Aseroth Xiloscient
SUBJECT: Diplomatic contact.

Though our kingdoms have never been friend or foe, I do notice that we share common enemies. As acting regent of the Eternal Kingdom, I feel that an embassy exchange would be most beneficial for all parties involved.

I would like to offer you plots of land in Ocanthus, the capital city of our primary planet of Forodren Annon for the construction of an embassy, as well as plots inside our asteroid bases in Sol for the same purpose.


-Prince Aseroth Xiloscient of The Eternal Kingdom of Bryn Shander
Acting Regent of the Eternal Kingdom of Bryn Shander
Commander of the Bryn Shanderan Space Force

The Allanean Foreign office sat on the idea for a few weeks, then sent the Five Kingdoms a brief message:

We in the United States of Allanea would like to establish a diplomatic relation with you, however we in good faith would like to say that we are not the world's most popular nation, and having a relationship with us might impact your status in the world community. If you still want to, you can buy or rent a 40-acre plot of land in Liberty-City for your embassy. We, in turn, would like to have an embassy in the Five Kingdoms if this will be allowed.

Lirella had been looking over this message personally, and for more than a few days now. This was, well, unexpected, at the least, and while she could save herself some trouble by simply ignoring it, she knew exactly what message that would send. Kajal's government had changed in a similar way, and when it had, those 'old enemies' hadn't _all_ shunned it and ignored it despite whatever evidence was presented to prove that there had, in fact, been a change for the better.

Weighing most heavily on Lirella's mind were matters of the early days of the war, that had no real official end, though it had been cold for decades by now. She had ordered bombardment, and it had been carried out, resulting in the deaths of citizens from nations that were not all even interested _in_ a war.

She had bombed the old diplomatic quarter, and it would be quite understandable if they were to be denied an embassy in this new one.

But, still, she would extend the olive branch, even if it would cost any lesser politician their career. The populace knew little of the Five Kingdoms beyond the fact that they were allies of that oppressive Imperial government, and they wouldn't be pleased with it...

But then, the Imperatrix had some special powers that the normal politicians didn't.


Minister Tiloka Kit,

I have contemplated your message for several days, and I have decided to authorize the construction of an embassy in Ali'Staan, if your government will consent to it. It is a great irony that such an act would see my people wanting my head, for I am most famous for the atrocities I ordered against your people ages ago.

However, it would be grandly hypocritical were I to simply ignore your message, as your nation has come to a time that we have visited before, and to not grant you the benefit of doubt would be unnecessarily haughty and cruel.

It is, therefore, that I humbly submit our application, realizing the historical reasons that would normally stand against such a motion. Attached are the designs for a modest structure, a list of staff thusly selected for the mission, and a formal apology from the government of the Federated Imperium of Kajal, to the families of those people and those nations that suffered losses in the military actions I ordered ages ago.

If such preparations are acceptable, I look forward to further communication and cooperation.

Lirella Meraia Keral,
Federated Imperium of Kajal

Are you real or not?
It's a fine line
Are you ready or not
For the light of day
Are you real or not?
These are strange times
And I don't want to live this way

--Warren Zevon Real or Not


As May progressed, the hustle and bustle in Ali'Staan took on epic proportions. Hundreds of laborers filled the streets leading out of the Foreign Quarter at the end of every work day as final preparations were hurriedly carried out. Becker had received his commission, but work continued nonetheless. Work had to be finished by the 11th at the latest; in time for the Tartaran delegation to be received the following day. The timespan of invitations stretched from the 11th to the 18th, and while operations were supposed to be complete by the 10th, it was likely there might be some last minute cleanup.

On the 12th, Kit and his Office were still busy sending out their final replies as Althalon departed his estate outside Daturias, bound for Ali'Staan. Throughout the city, Doomguard and CDC formations drilled on nearly every street, their Taskmasters barking at them through bullhorns. The roads through the foreign quarter were opened to civilian traffic by the 9th, although the construction of the streets discouraged use for commuting. Wide with large islands, the topside roads were meticulously maintained and patrolled regularly by city security vehicles. The prefabricated embassies were cut with limestone, combining neo-gothic and eastern architecture in an interesting fashion. The buildings had either one or two towers, with awnings over three levels. Over the entrances the stone was steepled with room for an etched relief, but most other sections of the building had an Easterling-style flat roof on which helipads could be built according to the host country's standards.

Traffic leading into the quarter was fed by one of three main roads: one moving from northeast-southwest, and the second intersected at a perpendicular angle, terminating at the center of the foreign quarter. At this centre stood a small liason office, which served as the contact point between the embassies and Kit's Foreign Office. Dominated by a large foyer, winding staircases led to a second level with conference rooms while lifts led beneath to offices and the subways.

The Foreign Ministry Liason Office was constructed differently than the prefabricated embassies, which had been designed to allow for customizations. The FMLO building sat on flat ground, shaped like an octagon when viewed form above, with tapering walls that ended abrubtly after a modest 5 stories, topped off with a bronze dome. Surrounded by an elaborate garden, the FMLO certainly seemed like a pleasant place to work. Automated defenses were present where one may expect them, but were generally well concealed and no attempt was made to show them off. On the contrary, their appearance was inconspicuous both for tactical reasons as well as to maintain the relaxed atmosphere in the garden. The Old Empire might have made such guns the "centerpiece" of the new sector, but Becker had different ideas.

Becker would remain as the military administrator for the foreign quarter. A Colonel in the Iteration III Division of Engineers, he would serve as an administrator in peace and kept his home there. The FMLO and its environs were protected by an organic Civil Defense Commission garrison of mechanized infantry. To save land and to protect the essential components of military infrastructure, the garages and barracks were all housed underground, usually in hilly terrain but never too far from the main roadways. Becker would command the CDC in the event that FMLO had to be defended, and it wasn't immediately obvious to incoming delegations exactly how large this force was. The guard changed every 4-6 hours, and perceptive delegates often noticed the same men in their familiar positions, suggesting a modest-sized force with understandably low turnover.

Kit and Rabani had been at FMLO since it became operable on April 25th. As before, they took turns fielding messages. Tarasovka's missive came in next, and found its way to Kit's office. Written communications usually ended up on the desk of the highest functionary present in the complex at the time, be he the Deputy Minister, Kit, or Althalon himself. High ranking military leaders such as Sudani and Sergoyan were also understood to "outrank" the Minister, and would probably have been the first to see the letter if they'd been there at the time.

Kit's reply was prompt, apologising for its brevity and offering more assurances of a more productive future. Althalon was still not due to arrive for a few more hours, but the Foreign Minister did not want Tarasovka's gesture to go unreciprocated, so a reply letter was written by Kit and dispatched forthwith, inviting the Tarasovkan delegation to Ali'Staan in 2 days hence, on the 14th.

***

After due consideration of your offer I have, with authorization from President Silaco, decided to accept your offer of an embassy in Ali'Staan. Your desire to explore new avenues of diplomacy appeals to me and I feel it is time to lay aside the ordained animousity of our positions. With your permission and some additional information I would like to have it in place as soon as possible.

My plans and the needed information are as follows. If you would be so kind as to have a copy of the layout of the foreign district forwarded to me I will have an appropriate building prepared for our selected site. This building and my subordinate and her staff will be shipped to Ali'Staan via a mutually agreeable method of transport and placed onsite. Before we take occupancy you would be allowed to tour and inspect the building.

If this is acceptable, or if you have any questions or conditions, I hope to hear from you shortly.

Kit's reply (unlike many others so far) is typed up on Foreign Office stationery, attached as requested with the street plans for the foreign quarter, drawn by Becker's draftsman.



I am thrilled and releived that Sunset is willing to dispense with our previous animosities, and I sincerely hope this sentiment is received as warmly by our respective populations as it is here in the Foreign Office. Indeed, our history is a long and rocky one, which we do not expect to mend overnight.

You are more than welcome, of course, to build an embassy where you see fit. Indicate to us which plot you intend to use and we will reserve it at once. Construction can begin anytime after May 28th, after the necessary preparations have been made. Materials from your nation can be shipped to us in a vessel of your choosing and placed onsite as necessary, but we must insist on inspecting the building materials piecemeal before they're allowed off their transports. Any components vital to Sunset's national security can of course be exempt from such a search, but it is understood by the nature of these components that they shouldn't exceed a few tons in mass.

With great excitement we look to the future with magnificent plans and an indelible hope. May Eru's blessings be upon you.

***

Though our kingdoms have never been friend or foe, I do notice that we share common enemies. As acting regent of the Eternal Kingdom, I feel that an embassy exchange would be most beneficial for all parties involved.

I would like to offer you plots of land in Ocanthus, the capital city of our primary planet of Forodren Annon for the construction of an embassy, as well as plots inside our asteroid bases in Sol for the same purpose.

Rabani stands rigidly in Kit's office, a manilla folder dangling form his right hand. About 5'10 and stockily built, Rabani's dark skin struck an interesting contrast with his surroundings--and his suit, which was white and light gray. He's reaching up to pull his glasses off as the transmission starts.

"The foreign office feels compelled to remind lord Xiloscient that he doesn't know who are enemies are anymore." His voice is gruff and no-nonsense. "The broad and far-reaching changes to our foreign policy was not explicitly defined in previous communications, but it has been hinted at that our administration intends to take a much different path than the one Morgoth forged for us.

"While we are not inclined at present to build an embassy in the asteroid belt, we can accept a delegation here in Ali'Staan on or after May 14th."

***

"Your presence is required at the pavillion, Colonel Becker."

Half dressed, with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, Becker clicks off his communicator after offering a vague grunt of acknowledgement. Behind him his wife stirred in bed as Becker finishes his morning ritual and slips out the door as quietly as possible. Down the hall a CDC Major thumps his boots together and salutes. "Good morning sir."

Becker returns the salute wearily and grunts the expected words. "Morning report?"

"Little activity last night. A few drunks on the south side but that's about it."

"The Angsiyan?"

"Arrived last night sir, at 0100. Met briefly with Foreign Minister Kit and went to bed. He's waiting for you under the dragons." Silently Becker nods and takes a hard copy of the report from the CDC Major, dismissing him shortly thereafter.

The green and gold FMLO building that Becker was bound for stood in the midst of a large garden, with winding paths leading out in various directions--some even to the closer embassies. Two massive, 15 foot long onyx dragons presided over the main entrance to the gardens, wheeling over the viewer in battle. The inside of their wings were plated with gold; the plating also prominent on their teeth and claws under the right lighting conditions. Becker approved of the designs himself, and the statue was massively popular with most who had seen it so far. Carved by a team of Easterling craftsmen, the dragons were thin and streamlined, but powerfully built with incredible details on each scale. Now visible among the foliage, the dragons restate to the Dunlending the gravity of his upcoming meeting.

Becker checks his watch. He's on time, which is a quiet relief. Althalon stands on an elaborate terrace behind the dragons, dotted with chairs and umbrellas. Not many people are here yet for a regular working day, but Becker was to meet with Kit, Rabani, and of course the Angsiyan himself immediately preceding the arrival of the Tartaran delegation. Becker had never met Althalon before and he knew it would be a lie to admit he wasn't a bit nervous. Althalon didn't have much of a reputation for being ruthless to his subordinates, but it was still impossible to escape many (probably) insignificant fears. Becker couldn't help but wonder if Althalon would ask about the unrest concerning the Kajali request for an embassy. He had already noticed that Kit's foreign office had neglected the message for a full 24 hours, which so far had not happened to anyone else.

Mounting the steps to the terrace, Becker stands at the top and offers a vigorous salute, which the Angsiyan returns with a smile. "So, is the good Colonel ready?

Becker nods simply. "Of course, my lord. Let's get down to business."

Later the decision is made, as some of the other response’s become apparent, to send a further message to the Five Kingdoms.


To
Foreign office of the Five Kingdoms.

Sirs after reviewing some details it has been decided that prior to the Ambassador’s arrival on the agreed to date of May 18th; it might become necessary to have made the prior arrangements over both the temporary Embassy and the plot where the more permanent structure will be built. To this end we seek to enquire as to if it would be possible to review remotely the available sights to better determine what would be most suitable for our needs. In order that the arrival of the Ambassador might proceed with as much ease as is possible under what we are sure is a busy time for your office.

From
Seer Haethier.
On behalf of Farseer Darvins of the Council of Tor Yvresse.



In part it was simply a case of the council not liking being made to wait till the last day, but not wanting to seem petty even as they snuck ahead of the que in some ways.

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By the Voice and Will of Sirithil nos Fëanor, Elentári of Menelmacar and the C'tan, given on the Menelmacari Imperial Vessel Gilthoniel, on the tweflth day of Lairë of the thirty one thousandth, eight hundred and seventy eighth year of her reign.

To Tiloka Kit, Foreign Minister of the Five Kingdoms, from Sirithil Nalosaurawen Finlaurë Aineldalië Minyavendë, greetings, the Valar keep you and may you be blessed with unity and wisdom.

It is with considerable delight that we respond to your missive in the affirmative; it would be our pleasure to establish an embassy in the Five Kingdoms as a symbol of reconciliation and dawn.

We wish to send an embassy under the leadership of Angfëa nos Losloriel, to represent that fundamental shift in the nature of our relations in this new and enlightened age in Arda.

We would like, consequently to build our own embassy, and we have in fact, had initial plans for such a thing for some time now, after the expulsion of the previous regime it was considered worthwhile considering such a thing.

If you would be interested, we would also like to arrange for Lords Túrelio nos Fingolfin and Glorfindel nos Losloriel - the Prefect of State and Warlord of the Mornahossë, respectively - to visit the Five Kingdoms and meet with the Angsiyan directly on our behalf.

Manwë keep you under the One, and send fair wind to your sails.

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Becker, Kit, Rabani and Althalon were finishing up their meeting when a clerk charges in waving a leaf of paper. "My lords!" He begins breathlessly. "I have something you must read!"

Becker, with his back to the door at first, turns and raises his eyebrows, his arm draped over the back of his seat. The four men stare at the clerk for a moment before Kit beckons him to the conference table, on which the men had arrayed their materials. "Well, what's going on?"

The clerk hands the sheet to his Minister and stands at rigid attention. "Fresh off the wire. This came in about five minutes ago." After a moment Kit passes the sheet to Althalon with a grin. The clerk is wordlessly dismissed by Becker, and the Angsiyan flies to his feet an instant later.

"I should probably answer this right now," he guesses. "Good meeting, men. I think we were mostly on the same page to begin with, but I'm glad we got this out of the way." Althalon hands the message to Rabani, who passes it to Becker after reading it for himself. All four men look quietly pleased after reading it. No comment is made on the obvious and pervasive irony of the situation.

Hastily, Althalon makes his exit, but whirls around in the doorway. "Becker, assemble an honor guard from Iteration III and drill them for presentation starting at 1500."

The Dunlending Colonel nods and salutes. "It'll happen."



Our hearts are truly warmed by the forgiveness of the Noldor, in this our most unsure hour. It is our greatest honor to host a Menelmacari Embassy in Ali'Staan. We hope this gesture is heeded by the rest of the world, as it may offer our greatest redemption.

Arda would be thrilled to meet your delegation in Ali'Staan at your leisure. Angfëa nos Losloriel, Túrelio nos Fingolfin, and Glorfindel nos Losloriel are all welcome to arrive at any time after the reception of this message, and will be received by an honor guard of Iteration III Engineers under the command of Colonel Becker and the FMLO.

The eyes of the world will be upon us as we strike a new friendship in unity against the Black Enemy, whos remnant forces we still must constantly fight in the North. Truly, this is the dawning of a new day.

By Eru's grace, and with our best wishes for a long and happy friendship in peace,

(signed)

Konrad Althalon

***
"What about the Kajali?" Rabani asks bluntly.

Kit's glasses rest on the edge of his forefinger and thumb, pushed up by the action of the Easterling Foreign Minister pinching the bridge of his nose. "I really didn't think they'd want to have anything to do with this."

Rabani sets his jaw. Everyone remembered the Kajali bombardment of Ali'Staan. Rabani was from Far Harad and grew up well away from Ali'Staan, but the Southron states were very close, and Rabani felt a cultural bond with the victims that Kit probably didn't share. "I don't know if I'll be able to deal with them professionally, at least at first."

Kit raises a finger. "I understand, but Arda has also done some things in the past, and we're asking people to forgive us..."

"We didn't bomb embassies."

"I know, but still..." Kit trails off. "It can't hurt to see what they want to do about this. If we play it up...?" He shoots an inquisitive glance to his deputy.

Rabani shrugs. "I don't see the need to stage any unrest--once it gets out that they're coming I'm sure there will be demonstrations throughout the city whether we want them or not."

"Good point."


I have contemplated your message for several days, and I have decided to authorize the construction of an embassy in Ali'Staan, if your government will consent to it. It is a great irony that such an act would see my people wanting my head, for I am most famous for the atrocities I ordered against your people ages ago.

However, it would be grandly hypocritical were I to simply ignore your message, as your nation has come to a time that we have visited before, and to not grant you the benefit of doubt would be unnecessarily haughty and cruel.

It is, therefore, that I humbly submit our application, realizing the historical reasons that would normally stand against such a motion. Attached are the designs for a modest structure, a list of staff thusly selected for the mission, and a formal apology from the government of the Federated Imperium of Kajal, to the families of those people and those nations that suffered losses in the military actions I ordered ages ago.

If such preparations are acceptable, I look forward to further communication and cooperation.

Lirella Meraia Keral,
Federated Imperium of Kajal

Kit's reply is cool, but not confrontational. He stands with his hands clasped in front of him, and a couple sheets of paper are sticking out from under his thumb His black hair is slicked back and he's not wearing his glasses.

"The Foreign Office would like to thank the Imperatrix for her apparent willingness to mend the proverbial fence. It wouldn't be right to request forgiveness without offering it ourselves, and as a result we feel there is no option but to allow the Kajali delegation.

The viewer can tell it's coming before it does. Kit shifts his weight and his voice is slightly more agitated. "But civilian unrest here in Near Harad will be great, and the Serechav* expects demonstrations throughout this week, up until and possibly throughout your arrival. Additional security measures must be discussed in the meantime, and we cannot accept a delegation until the 20th, owing to this special circumstance."

His tone settles down a bit. "Nonetheless we hope that the Kajali gesture is as genuine as ours. If it is, there is no reason why we cannot forge a new understanding. Please accept my sincerest personal wishes that such an understanding can be found." He bows his head simply and the transmission ends.


OOC: The Serechav is the name of the main executive complex in Daturias. It is the establishment from which nearly all of Althalon's decrees eminate. It's like our version of the Kremlin.

Iteration III was chosen as the Honor Guard because of its showy dress uniforms and a high standard of discipline. Engineers were busy men in Arda, especially after the unification and throughout the rebuilding. Iteration III and Iteration V had been responsible for the rebuilding of Ali'Staan, and their performance had spurred the development of the Iteration divisions as an "elite" corps of engineers. Most Pax and Guardis military units had organic engineers, but the Iteration engineers were supposed to be the cream of the crop. In addition to their normal duties, detatchments of Iteration units almost always served as a color or honor guard; recruits carefully screened for physical condition, discipline and appearance standards.

The Menelmacari Honor Guard was assembled forthwith by Becker and was drilling on the streets under his watch almost an hour ahead of schedule. The men were probably uncomfortable under the heat in in the pitch black and gold dress uniforms of the Iteration corps. Unadorned bright gold dress shirts stood out underneath black and gold jackets, and thick silver shoulder knots transversed downward from the right shoulder, offset by a bright gold sash leading down from the left shoulder to the right hip. Each man also wore a black officer's cap with a gold peak, and black leather gloves with black pants and boots. All had sidearms and rifles, but the flag bearers' rifles were always carefully shouldered on the left side.

Throughout the day, whistles pierce the air and Becker shouts commands to his men in his native tounge. Characteristic military shouts are offered in a rhythmic response to their Colonel as the men obey, drilling with their rifles or changing formation or direction as commanded. Soon, the procession route is prescribed by Becker and his advisors and practiced immediately thereafter.

About a mile away from the FMLO building, the Menelmacari delegation would be stopped and received immediately by Kit and Althalon. The party would continue on in an open transport, and take in a calling of the guard before proceeding the rest of the way with Becker and his Iteration marines. The guard itself was company-sized, with about 200 men and change. They started on either side of the road, opposite each other in rows of five. On cue they would march to the opposite side of the street and turn on their heels as the squad opposite them filed past neatly on either side, barely a shoulder's length apart. Once each squad of five marches to the far side and turns, they form a row of ten with the team from the other side who marched past and performed the same maneuver.

They would then be ordered into a parade rest while a military band played a brief piece. The color guard would lay the Five Flags on the ground, and rise them in the midst of a rumbling crescendo. Iteration III were mostly Haradrim and Dunlendings, but each of the Five Flags was held by a representative from that province, selected for height and appearance. With the flags erect, the entire formation would face left away from them, and the front row would crouch and ready their weapons to fire in the air, as the row behind them fired over their shoulder. The rumble of 40 rifles firing in meticulous synchronization would crack through the air three times, before the men maneuvered the rifles to their shoulders and turned to face the Menelmacari delegation.

At that point, the formation would shout 'Darch fus zu en geleig am Schaad!'* and offer a salute to the Menelmacari delegation. The brisk march to the FMLO building would then begin, the sides of the streets dotted with Ardan nobility. Every two hundred yards, the procession would pass drum lines, all of which were playing a cadence in time with each other. As they passed, the drum major at the front would blow a whistle and the Honor Guard would shout chants back at them. The men would march briskly with the transports and security vehicles behind them. The procession would terminate with Althalon and his guests on what was effectively a hovering litter, utilitarian but with subtly beautiful silver and copper inlays. Behind Althalon and the Menelmacari would stand a handful of Elvish guards with an equal amount of Althalon's ubiqitous Vzj' Nakai. Becker would be at the very front, offering occasional "Hoo! Ahh!s" which his men answered with the alternate shout on the next beat.

At the very end of the march, in front of the dias leading up to the two dragons, the Honor Guard would line the steps (which were large enough to accomodate all 200 of them) on either side in a single file line for a formal presentation to their guests. Becker would stand in front of them and take a saulte from Althalon as the Dunlending shout from the beginning was repeated again. The party would then dismount and enter the FMLO grounds themselves.

*OOC: "From two to one against the Shadow" if anyone present happens to know Dunlending. It's meant to sound a lot like German, and I'm sure those of you who know or have heard German will recognize the similarities, and some words may be nearly identical. Apologies if it sounds coarse to Elvish ears :P

OOC2: Other players can expect a reception not unlike this, but without the fanfare and the flag-raising, rifle salute, or the chant translated above. Most will be received by Iteration honor guards, but I may use CDC units for some.

Minister Tiloka Kit,

Your conditions are acceptable. I have included the plans for the facility for some bedtime reading. As you can see there is some space included for a showcase complex of Sunset corporations and after some discussion with my fellows it has been suggested that other Triumvirate nations may wish to have consulates in this structure and space for them is included as well.

I have selected my representative and he will arrive on the 28th to oversee construction. To simplify matters we will be bringing in the majority of materials from Earth-side Triumvirate nations. Some materials will be purchased from the Five Kingdoms as well but these details can be handled later.

Ambassador K'ym'ko,
Secretariat of State,
Republic of Sunset


'Congradulations Ambassador, you are being reactivated.'

There was a pause and K'ym'ko could imagine the little black eyes blinking in confusion. His replacement as lead ambassador had been rather sudden and he had been on ice, literally, for quite some time.

'Where am I go... Oh no. You bastard.'

'Being that I am essentially sexless that's an inappropriate insult but you are correct. Erika has approved my decision and has suggested an appropriate guise.'

'Guise? You make it sound like you are putting me in a penguin suit and putting me out for the seals.'

'Funny you should say that...' Katryna's voice, young and silky, interupted. 'Specs are incoming. You'll suit up,' There was some soft giggling, 'And be transported to Earth.'

'Damn you, damn you both...'

----

"You know, it's not too bad really..." The newly dubbed Ambassador Forsteri tugged on his collar and adjusted his lapels while looking in the mirror. His hair was carefully arranged in a feathered style that highlighted the red-orange streaks above his ears. His nose was perhaps a little large and the eyebrows lanced out a bit but it was overall reasonably distinguished. "Perhaps I'll add an esquire to my name. Ambassador Apten Forsteri, Esq..."

I understand that there will be those who will protest our presence for ages, just as we will suffer similar unrest here in Kajurmani. I may not personally be qualified to discuss security arrangements for the delegation as it stands, given that my duties require my presence elsewhere.

However, after discussion with allied states, we have decided that in lieu of a separate structure, it may be less intrusive if the Kajali offices were to reside in a shared structure, and I believe the proposal by the Sunset delegation, which includes shared spaces for allied consulates, may be the best option at this time.

Our delegation is in no great hurry, and given the decision to utilize a common structure, the arrival of our delegation may even be delayed, pending the completion of such a structure.

We realize that this will be a long road, and to wait a few more days is no burden. I thank you for your response, and hope. May the seraai keep you in health.

Lirella Meraia Keral,
Federated Imperium of Kajal.

To
Foreign office of the Five Kingdoms.

Sirs after reviewing some details it has been decided that prior to the Ambassador’s arrival on the agreed to date of May 18th; it might become necessary to have made the prior arrangements over both the temporary Embassy and the plot where the more permanent structure will be built. To this end we seek to enquire as to if it would be possible to review remotely the available sights to better determine what would be most suitable for our needs. In order that the arrival of the Ambassador might proceed with as much ease as is possible under what we are sure is a busy time for your office.

A short typewritten communique is transmitted to the Council the following day.


Arda is willing to accept a small Yvressi observation team into the Foreign Quarter a few days early in order to make the necessary arrangements. This can take place any time on or after the 12th, at your leisure--but due to scheduling concerns we will still be unable to open formal diplomatic talks until the prescribed date on the 18th.

(signed)

Andan Rabani


***

Your conditions are acceptable. I have included the plans for the facility for some bedtime reading. As you can see there is some space included for a showcase complex of Sunset corporations and after some discussion with my fellows it has been suggested that other Triumvirate nations may wish to have consulates in this structure and space for them is included as well.

I have selected my representative and he will arrive on the 28th to oversee construction. To simplify matters we will be bringing in the majority of materials from Earth-side Triumvirate nations. Some materials will be purchased from the Five Kingdoms as well but these details can be handled later.

The Ardan response was not as fast in coming this time as it had been previously, but is answered by Kit within the week.

"Arda thanks the Triumvirate for its interest and sees no reason to deny your wishes for a joint consulate. We will waive tariffs on building materials if and when you should happen to need them, since it doesn't make sense to charge them in a situation like this. He straightens up a bit. "However, Arda feels compelled to remind its guests that building materials are at an extraordinary premium, as our recent conflicts have caused a massive amount of destruction throughout the entire continent." The Easterling minister shrugs slightly. "Nonetheless, one structure cannot be expected to break the bank in that regard. I'm sure we'll be able to work something out," he finishes confidently.

He seems to turn away at this point, but snaps his fingers briskly as he remembers something, and looks back into the camera. "Oh! While construction of the Embassy cannot begin until the 28th, you may send a delegation on the 14th to inspect the grounds and take part in the reception ceremony on the 21st. He winks, and a corner of his mouth rises. "Just because we can't break ground until the 28th doesn't mean we can't have a bit of fun in the meantime. Hope to see you there."

***

I understand that there will be those who will protest our presence for ages, just as we will suffer similar unrest here in Kajurmani. I may not personally be qualified to discuss security arrangements for the delegation as it stands, given that my duties require my presence elsewhere.

However, after discussion with allied states, we have decided that in lieu of a separate structure, it may be less intrusive if the Kajali offices were to reside in a shared structure, and I believe the proposal by the Sunset delegation, which includes shared spaces for allied consulates, may be the best option at this time.

Our delegation is in no great hurry, and given the decision to utilize a common structure, the arrival of our delegation may even be delayed, pending the completion of such a structure.

We realize that this will be a long road, and to wait a few more days is no burden. I thank you for your response, and hope. May the seraai keep you in health.

Kit seems agitated, but it's not clear to the viewer whether he's upset with the Kajali or if something else is bothering him. His tone is polite but firm.

"Arda has accepted Sunset's plan for a shared embassy and will even assist in its construction as far as we are able or allowed," he starts. "Having the lot of you in one complex may simplify security measures, as it will be easier to protect than three or four seperate consulates."

He pauses to take a sip from his water glass, and clears his throat. "We see no reason to postpone the arrival of the Kajali delegation, primarily owing to the reception scheduled for the 21st. I will forward our communications to the Office of the Interior, who will then be in direct contact with you concerning mutual security. In the meantime, please confer with your colleagues and designate to us the location of your consulate within the Sunset structure."

Kit bows deeply. "In spite of all the apprehension, we look forward to receiving the Kajali delegation on the 20th."

OOC: Written on IRC between both me and Melkor.

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again
--The Who, Won't Get Fooled Again

The Menelmacari diplomatic gravitic frigate MIV Fortisérë - she had, in fact, been rededicated for this very occasion; the new name meant "Peace of the North" - arrowed into the atmosphere over the south-western coast of “Arda,” beginning a long and gentle descent towards Ali'staan. The ship went unescorted as a gesture of goodwill; though technically this was an illusion, as just about any Menelmacari vessel operating in atmosphere could, if needed, call for fire support from other ships in orbit, or get reinforcements quickly, even if neither eventuality was expected today. Even the course had been carefully chosen; low enough to be clearly visible from the ground, and passing near to several population centers, yet high enough to be away from AA fire. On the final approach to the designated landing site, Fortisérë overflew the assembled Honor Guard, before rotating majestically as she set down with a feather-light touch upon the tarmac before their hosts. A modification for diplomacy of one of the smaller classes in the Menelmacari arsenal, the Tinúviel-class, Fortisérë was nonetheless imposing seen from the ground, precisely two hundred and fifty meters in length.

A boarding ramp lowered; the first to appear was a pair of Mornahossë in their full armor, in the glossy obsidian-black that was its usual state, with intricate silver traceries provided by the optical camouflage system for the ceremonial occasion. Behind them were four more elves, in a diamond formation, three men and a woman... the leading elf was Lord Túrelio, the Prefect of State, in an intricately silver-embroidered robe of shades of blue, and a mithril circlet.

Behind him to the right was Ambassador Angfëa, similarly attired in green and gold, and to the left was Lord Glorfindel, Warlord of the Mornahossë, immaculate in a deep-black dress uniform, a crimson cloak, and a golden circlet. His uniform displayed the cut diamond insignia of the Mornahossë Orotur.

In back was a younger elf-maiden in a light purple robe with silver traceries, though less formally attired than the other three; she was an aide to the ambassador. Behind these four appeared several civilians with equipment marked with the insignias of the various Menelmacari holonetworks - journalists, of course, to record this momentous occasion for the benefit of the people back home.

The party advanced, stopping a precise distance from Kit and the Angsiyan. The pair of Mornahossë offered a salute, right fists to the sides of their helmets; in a gesture that was similar to removing the face plates of some older models, in precise unison.

Túrelio spoke first. "Hail, Lord Althalon! From the Elentári in Vinyatírion eternal I bring greetings in the name of Menelmacar. Let times of strife be ended, and a new age of peace dawn today." He paused briefly, then continued, gesturing first to his right, "This is Ambassador Angfëa nos Losloriel..."

The ambassador nodded once, "Tenn'enomentielva, Lord Althalon."

And then to Túrelio's left. "...and I'm sure you know of Lord Glorfindel, Warlord of the Mornahossë." Glorfindel likewise nodded once; since the moment of debarkation his eyes had flicked about endlessly until now, not missing a single detail.

Althalon and his party stood atop a small knoll opposite the landing site of the Menelmacari craft. As the Elven delegation disembarked and offered their salute, Althalon reciprocated first (although in Ardan fashion), with Becker and the two Vzj'Nakai in their entourage following suit a fraction of a second later.

Althalon wore a simple gray and black military uniform, with a thick black chest strap that had a pouch at the hip. Opposite the pouch on his right hip dangled a pistol--carried not necessarily out of apprehension (the Ardans reserved such feelings for the Noldor) but tradition. Althalon nearly always forsook ornamental headgear, and today was no exception. His short brown hair was the only thing on top of his head.

To his left stood Foreign Minister Tiloka Kit, a pleasant Easterling in his mid-50's. Tall and gaunt, Kit wore a simple dark blue two-piece business suit and carried a small satchel, which dangled from his right hand. His hair, black and slicked straight back, shone a little in the sunlight.

Opposite Kit stands Colonel Becker, a tall, well-built Dunlending with bright blonde hair and icy blue eyes. He wore a black, white and red dress uniform sans a chest strap. He stands at attention with his red and gold officer's cap in the crook of his arm.

All in all the Ardans (with the exception of Becker and the two much-adorned Vzj'Nakai, resplendent in their deep gold and silver dress uniforms) were plainly dressed compared to the Elves. Althalon had always preferred a utilitarian facade; he always emphasized the privations experienced by common soldiers and in many ways he still considered himself one.

Althalon stepped forward as Túrelio spoke, and raised his voice in response: "Many thanks and well-met!" he started cheerfully. "Indeed we are all happy to have new circumstances upon us. Hopefully we've earned some time away from the Shadow, though I fear its return may be inevitable."

He turned slightly, indicating Kit. "With me today are Foreign Minister Tiloka Kit," Kit bowed his head, "and Colonel Erich Becker of Iteration III," Becker saluted again, as Althalon turned from him and extended a hand. "Welcome to Arda."

The Elves exchanged handshakes with the Ardans. "A unified stand against the Shadow, then," Ambassador Angfëa began, "is one of the reasons I am here. It is only right that Man and Elf stand as one against the Enemy."

Túrelio and Glorfindel gave nods of agreement. "It is an immense pleasure to meet you all," Túrelio added, "A pleasure that I did not until very recently expect to ever experience."

Althalon nodded enthusiastically as his hands clasped behind him. "Indeed, I estimate containing the Black Enemy to be the charge of the Children of Ilúvatar, and we certainly will have much to discuss in that regard, both now and in the future."

He turned and looked to the 200-odd man Honor Guard, waiting patiently in rows on either end of the street a short distance from them. "Hopefully this will be a fitting and symbolic start for us." He gestured behind him to a car-sized gravitic litter, the driver already behind the wheel. "If you would be so kind as to follow me."

"Of course," Túrelio responded, and the various Elves climbed into the car, Glorfindel's eyes sweeping over the formation of soldiers. The Mornahossë got into the back of the vehicle.

The Angsiyan muttered something to Becker in Dunlending, who saluted and scurried off towards his men. Before climbing onto the transport, Althalon stopped and reached for his pistol, moving slowly and deliberately as he unhooks the restraining clasp. He pulled the weapon out--a beautiful black and silver long-barreled handgun--and flipped it in his hand. He held the handle out to Túrelio.

At first, Glorfindel's hand habitually twitched in the direction of his sword, but he relaxed after a moment, his hand resting gently on the pommel instead of grasping the hilt. When Althalon flipped the weapon over and spoke, Túrelio's - and Glorfindel's, too - eyebrows raised in what could only be described as amazement, certainly aware of the significance of the gesture.

"Take this," Althalon commanded, "in the spirit of unity and as a gesture of goodwill. I have no intention of discussing renewed relations with a weapon at my hip." Kit raised a brow. "Please accept this gesture of a greatly desired peace, and take my weapon as a gift to symbolize the unification of Ardan and Menelmacari arms against the Black Enemy."

The Prefect of State gave a slight bow of the head, and spoke: "I accept your gift, Lord Althalon, in the spirit of friendship with which it is given. May the peace we forge this day shine brightly, even after all the stars have gone out." He accepted the weapon, taking it lightly in both hands, and looks it over, admiring the workmanship briefly. "I thank you graciously, Lord Althalon," he added in genuine appreciation of the gesture of trust. Túrelio briefly pondered how best to reciprocate the gesture in light of the Angsiyan's stated desire not to carry a weapon, and he settled on ejecting the magazine and passing it back to the aide, before he tucked the pistol into the sash of his robe.

The Ardan sovereign grinned broadly, obviously quite happy that the Elves had understood the significance of the act. "Excellent!" he responded simply as he hoisted himself up onto the transport a moment later. Kit followed in similar fashion, whispering something in Althalon's ear. The Dunlending nodded in response to Kit, his expression calm and pleasant. As the Menelmacari delegation boards the craft, a few long notes could be heard from a 150-piece military band to their right. Next to the band, five men stood with flags lowered to the ground. Silently the Honor Guard had maneuvered into position, and now arrayed themselves in a parade rest in front of the party.

Althalon adjusted his seat as Kit leaned forward and pulled off his glasses. "We're also pleased to report that the Ardan people stand behind us in this venture," began the Foreign Minister, "and that the desire for a union with the Elves is nearly unanimous." He shrugged his narrow shoulders. "It is only fitting that Eru's children bear the necessary burden, and the Ardan people see this. There is sporadic dissent concerning relations with various other nations, but a great turnabout has been seen in their attitude regarding the Noldor most of all."

"That is good to hear," Angfëa replied. "It is likewise in Menelmacar. With the flight of Morgoth Bauglir, the cloud of corruption has lifted from this land, and the Firstborn are not inclined to blame your people for the sins of the Enemy and his spawn. Things are looking bright for this relationship."

Althalon raised a quieting hand as the music quickened in pace and grows louder. The beating of drums began as the five men slowly raised their flags off the ground, symbolizing the defeat and resurrection of the Ardan kingdoms. When the musical phrase reached its climax, the flagpoles were heaved erect, each caught dramatically in an eastward gust. The drummers offered a few more beats as the flags were waved back and forth vigorously. In front of them, Becker shouted a loud command and the Guard turned on its heels, facing left as viewed by the Menelmacari delegation.

The leftmost row crouched and readied their weapons as the next row raised their rifles. The men with the flags hurried to the rear of the formation, and seconds later forty rifles discharged three times in swift and precise unison. Another shout from Becker and the men shouldered their weapons and snapped to attention.

The Colonel shouted one more command, and instantly the entire honor guard turned again to its left, now facing the delegation. They raised their arms in salute and shouted: "Darch fus zu en geleig am Schaad!" Althalon and Kit exchanged a glance and the Foreign Minister nodded in approval, whispering again to his sovereign, who laughed easily.

The Elven delegation watched the demonstration intently, occasionally exchanging glances and whispers, and Glorfindel could be seen to nod ever so slightly at what he saw. Afterwards, there was some brief polite, but very genuine, applause, and much approval particularly at the final shout. The journalists in the second transport, and their little gravitic holocameras, likewise captured the entire thing, which was being carried live back home.

The Honor Guard did an about face as the drum cadence kicks in, the procession now underway. Althalon turned to face his guests. "Onward, if you don't mind, to business."

He leaned forward in his seat and rested his elbows on his knees, lazily rubbing the palms of his hands together as he spoke in a pose he was famous for. "During the rebellion, we recovered both of Morgoth's palantíri, and they are currently still in our possession." The Angsiyan cleared his throat. "Naturally we do not intend to give them up, but their security is important because in the past, palantíri have been regarded as dangerous tools to be seldom used. I believe that time has passed: all are accounted for and even if Morgoth did have one, he fled into the Void, which would render any stone useless."

Glorfindel nodded. "This is good to hear; the Lady will certainly be pleased to learn that the network is entirely secure, for the first time in forty thousand years. It is a good omen, I suspect."

Althalon leaned back and reached for a water bottle as Kit broke in. "Certainly. We hope in fact to be able to use them extensively both to combat the continuing Orc problem in the North, and as a defence against the possibility of Morgoth's return." Kit reached into his satchel and pulled out a file folder. "I have here an estimation of the Orcs still in Arda. We're not opposed to the idea of keeping a small, controlled Orcish population for training purposes, but the problem as it stands right now is still fairly serious."

Glorfindel accepted the folder, opening it to take a look, and show the others as well. "Hmm. For training it would be excellent, and perhaps a joint mission might be in the offing," Túrelio added, to nods from Glorfindel. The warlord continued, "We're somewhat low on orc-hordes to train against back home, after all." He grinned in a way that left no question he'd had more than a little to do with that shortage.

Kit nodded, but maintained his businesslike demeanor. "Yes, well we're not sure how realistic it will be to destroy either Angband or Utumno, much less both."

Althalon slanted his shoulders and clasped his hands over his stomach. "Well for what it's worth, the skies over the stronghold sector are relatively safe for larger craft, so any value they might have is pretty much limited to infantry applications."

Kit nodded and exchanged a glance with the Angsiyan. "Furthermore, Arda is nearly stripped of natural resources. Also there's the issue of reparations--and who's going to want us to pay them. There's no way this administration could possibly cover the replacement costs for hardware alone, to say nothing of the loss of life." His tone became a bit more anxious. "So you can see how we might be interested in discovering other ways of seeking redress." He shrugged again. "That doesn't necessarily have anything to do with the Orcs, but still, it offers us an excuse to offer land for military bases, and possibly even an arms exchange."

Angfëa nodded. "Although it would be mostly the province of Lady Serindë, the Prefect of Trade, to discuss specifics, I suspect there would be more than a few Menelmacari businesses that would be very interested in helping with both reconstruction and resources. It's certainly understandable you'd be running low, after such a long age of the land being stripped bare by Morgoth for his dark designs."

Althalon reached up and swiftly scratches his right temple absently as he started. "Well, truth be told we're still sitting on a fair amount, but most of it is gone as soon as it comes out of the ground." He spread his hands. "Think of it like living paycheck to paycheck, only on a national scale, and with ore and metal instead of money."

Kit nodded in affirmation. "The Dunlendings and to some extent the Southrons are spectacular miners, and may even be able to impart some of their techniques to you. Oddly enough, for instance, Ardan miners have recovered an incredible amount more in the way of mithril and precious metals than Morgoth ever did. In fact, Morgoth never really mined up there, he just dug holes to hide in. Also, many portions in Arda's extreme south and again in the east we have huge amounts of relatively untapped wilderness. Perhaps there's something out there we can offer as well."

"We'd be most interested, certainly, and I'm sure our industries would be interested in exploration as well." Angfëa glanced up and looked around, seeing that the procession had reached its destination.

The Honor Guard split off into two groups and mounted the stairs, standing in single file rows on either side of the massive entrance. Overhead massive two black and gold dragon statues presided directly over Becker, who stood at the top of the stairs, dead center. He shouted once again to his men, and they shouted back as they present their weapons.

"Ah, we're here," noticed Althalon belatedly. He snickered. "I had almost forgotten how fast our men can march," he added with a wink. He and Kit rose, inviting their guests to do the same. A small set of stairs unfolds on the right side of the transport as it lowers slightly to accommodate the party's descent.

Althalon grinned at Glorfindel. "Ah, my favorite part. Reviewing the troops!" As he hopped off the transport, ignoring the stairs out of habit, he invited Glorfindel to lead.

Becker snapped to attention at the top of the stairs as Althalon's feet struck the ground, and maintained the salute as the Menelmacari delegation approached.

Glorfindel returned the grin, before he and the others descended the stairs, and walked slowly across in front of the Iteration troops. Glorfindel examined the assembled men with a critical eye, as always missing nothing, and he nodded in approval once he was done. "These are fine troops, Althalon," he commented, "You should be proud," high praise indeed, given the source.

"Only the best, of course," answered the Angsiyan with a toothy grin. "Iteration and CDC Engineers have been very busy rebuilding our shattered continent, and have gained a commensurate amount of prestige in the process. We will be showcasing them to the other foreign delegations of course, but possibly with less..." he paused, searching for the right word. "Pomp."

Kit chuckled lightly as Althalon walked up a few stairs, his hands clasped behind him. Each soldier stood like a statue, and none could be observed moving even their eyes, which were bright and alert. As Althalon reached the top of the stairs, he thumped his boots together and finally returned Becker's salute, offering a handshake to the Colonel immediately afterwards. Althalon and Becker exchanged a few quiet words as the Angsiyan beckoned for the delegation to join them on the terrace.

"An excellent start, my friends," asserted Kit reverently, offering his hand to Angfëa. "We did not expect so favorable a reaction."

Túrelio nodded, and Angfëa enthusiastically returned Kit's handshake, as the Elves climbed the stairs to join with Althalon.

http://www.sunsetrpg.com/images/SunsetEmbassyB.jpg Ambassador Forsteri walked through the offices and suites that made up what would be the new embassy even as more and more details were added around him. Right now the building was an electronic idea in a virtual design environment but he was already somewhat uncomfortable.

(Shop in the glorious Imnsvale International Pavilion!)

"I'm an ambassador, damnit, not a construction foreman!"

It was still his job however and he went about it with all due diligence. The building was essentially three hollow cylinders with slices taken from the top and merged together around a central axis. The hollow cores were linked together and formed a single open space with three lobes. Each lobe had it's own elevator that zipped up and down on geared tracks. Between these was a fountain that was currently incomplete with a placeholder statue of Loknar spewing digital water instead of whatever the final product would be.

Forsteri drifted over to one area where a group of designers from Imnsvale was currently working. To him they were ghostly forms which were summoning electronic whisps that became displays and fixtures. They were not the only people at work. Corporate designers from his own nation were at work on their storefronts, Kajali were laying out their embassy section, and he swore he had seen a SHODAN avatar floating through as well. Once all the sections were done they would be manufactured in various Earth-side facilities and then shipped to the Five Kingdoms.

(Just finished with a stressful diplomatic meeting? Get liquored up at one of several Duty Free shops and buy an extra bottle or pack of smokes to take home with you!)

"Shipped to Arda. Who would have thought it?"

(Find world class dining restaurants, such as the La Maisonette restaurant! Intellectuals meet with other intellectuals at the La Maisonette restaurant!)

One of the ghostly figures looked over at him and he shook his head before wandering on. The upper floors of each tower were the embassy and consulate sections. These all looked out over the city through their outer windows as well as the one-way transparent 'domes' that made up the center of each slice. Of course the city outside was not Ali'Staan but instead a forest of other buildings that were being designed within the same system. This embassy would stick out like a sore thumb, as the cliche went, when compared to it's future neighbors but for now it was somewhat plain compared to some of the spiralling glass and steel skyscrapers and arcologies outside.

(Forget how to speak a language? Learn a new language in no time with our world famous Behistun Inscription software, sold at kiosks throughout the pavilion.)

Advertizing was, even in this virtual environment, already ever-present. Forsteri hoped it was just there for testing but he was sure they were already trying to sell him something. Most of it was the usual signs on storefronts and posters on walls but there were a fair share of more intrusive technologies as well. He turned to watch one zip along the floor of a walkway and sighed. Yes, they were definately trying to sell him something.

(Realizing you have a 22 hour trip ahead of you? Buy a bestseller at one of many fine bookstores represented here and fall right asleep! Makes the trip go faster!)

(Spilled some wine on your ceremonial meeting cloak? No problem! We have many fine clothing boutiques representing many cultures, you'll find what you need!)

(Stepped in some orc dung? We've scattered many shoeshine stations about, you too can walk past them without stopping!)

"Well at least that one hasn't happened yet..."

(Dropped your laptop? Find one of our blue internet kiosks! We've protected them with Trojan keylogging technology, your state secrets are secure with us!)

"How do they come up with these things? Is it a focus group or a committee?"

(Need to buy something fancy and shiny for the missus back home? We have gift shops filled with many trinkets and shiny things for five seconds of pleasure! Or more!)

He shuddered at that. There certainly wasn't a missus despite what the picture on his desk showed and the only thing shiny he liked was herring.

"I could use a herring right now. Nice and cold with all the guts in it..."

The Taraskovyan delegation, to arrive on the 14th of May, would not of an extremely high level and would consist mostly of some diplomatic personnel as well as various specialists that would start on working out the best suitable location for a best suitable Embassy. Taraskovyans loved their Embassies to be in manors or palaces reminiscent of eighteenth or nineteenth century counterparts in Europe, surrounded by gardens. Being crammed into an office block with just a parking next to it was avoided and only taken up if absolutely no other options were available.

In the meantime, the future Taraskovyan ambassador to the Five Kingdoms, Count Kishrith Kel, would also be of the party. A small caretaker unit would be established in Ali'Staan to serve as “Embassy” until the appropriate building was built or found and the Embassy oculd begin its full work.

The relevant authorities in the Five Kingdoms also received all of the documentations concerning establishing Embassies in Taraskovya, including the municipal regulations of the capital city of Vigvar on the safeguard of the city’s appearance. This pretty much limited anyone to renting or buying an already existent building and moving in, as building anything that would hit out of the general scenery would be very difficult. Including foreign Embassies. But there were always sufficient numbers of palaces, manors and other interesting buildings (with parks and gardens adjacent!) to consider.

Of course, if one wanted absolutely to build something original, then other options could be considered, namely getting a spot not inside the capital city itself, but within the Fiefdom of Vigvar.

- - -

[OOC: I am sorry, but I’m afraid I will not be able to RP much. University takes too much of my time and mental reserves. Also, and just so that you get an idea of the City of Vigvar/Fiefdom of Vigvar, here is the WIP map of Metropolitan Taraskovya (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v77/Namellar/GDT/GDT_UPT_WIP.png) (and of the United Provinces of Tavaroth, a Dominion/Protectorate/Puerto-Rico/IdunnoLand).]

The Tartaran delegation was stopped about a mile from FMLO, right where the outer urban section of the Foreign Quarter begins its transformation into what looks like a park: flat grassland with a smattering of trees. The road dips and bends up ahead and the foliage gets thicker as they draw closer to the hanging gardens outside FMLO. Althalon and Kit are standing next to their transport: a silver and copper gravitic litter, behind which four Vzj'Nakai marines stand at rigid attention. Althalon quiets his foreign minister with a nod towards the Tartarans as they draw closer.

"Welcome, my friends!" booms Colonel Becker, seemingly appearing from out of nowhere. Behind him, Althalon and Kit begin the short trek towards the delegation. "We are most honored to have you here."

Lord Stratton, cousin to the Empress, led the Tartarian delegation, with the official representative Ambassador Oriana Castile walking beside him, if slightly behind. The Imperial representative had been sent by Empress Gehenna as a show of respect and to acknowledge that the chance of building relations with the Five Kingdoms was important to her. Stratton reacts with a smile to the shouted greeting: a little surprised, if he was honest with himself. “It is an honour to be here,” he replies. “Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Gehenna of Tartarus extends her greetings and regrets being unable to attend herself.”

Becker bows his head in acknowledgement. "Such regret is not necessary, Lord Stratton. I don't think anyone is actually sending an active Head of State, and probably for a reason," he offers with a bit of a laugh.

Althalon and Kit reach the party, and Becker stands aside. "Welcome to Arda," Althalon starts simply, "Lord Stratton," he bows and extends his hand, turning then to Oriana once the gesture is complete.

Oriana returns Althalon’s greeting with a smile and shakes his hand firmly, having watched her companion do so moments before, finishing her greeting with a slight incline of her head. She had been a little uneasy at coming into the Five Kingdoms, despite all that had changed. For some, the preconceived ideas of a place are formed through the telling of stories, and not all of those had been good during the previous administration, but she was pleased to note that on first meeting everyone seemed pretty normal.

"I have arranged for a military processional to take us into the FMLO complex itself." He gestures to the litter behind him and beams brightly. "If you would be so kind as to join me."

Lord Val Stratton nods and lets his gaze flicker around, taking in as much of his surroundings as possible. He had not been expecting quite the greeting they were receiving, and had been anticipating a simple move into the embassy. Gehenna would find this whole business most impressive, mostly because it was unexpected. Accepting the invitation, Lord Stratton waits to follow their hosts towards the waiting vehicles. Behind him, Oriana is making some mental notes of the proceedings, mostly as it will be fed back to the Empire as part of a general report, first impressions being very important.

As they mount the knoll, a tight formation of 200 men in black and gold uniforms come into view below them, facing the road opposite Althalon's small vehicle. Becker raises his right hand, which strikes up the drumline immediate to the honor guard's left, between the party and the FLMO building. Following the gesture, Becker takes a salute from Althalon and plods off towards the Guard.

Slowly the sound of their drumming mounts into a pervasive rumble all around them, and the percussionists down the street join in one by one. Althalon turns to his guests once they reach his transports, and hooks a thumb under his chest strap as he invites them onto it with his free hand. "Come my friends, we have much to discuss and even more to see! I've only arrived here recently myself, but the grounds seem splendid. I can't wait to show you."

Lord Stratton climbs in and makes himself comfortable. Opposite him, his companion straightens the skirt of her suit, making sure that she was still keeping up her professional persona. This was her first big engagement, and she did not want to make a bad impression. She had heard that the Five Kingdoms shared some of the traits that Tartarus had.

It had been a while since his lordship had taken part in such a procession, the last being the coronation of his cousin. The sound of the beat heralding their arrival down the street was a very odd sensation, but one that he was pleased to have been given the opportunity to have seen. The nation was certainly opening its doors with style. “I have to applaud you, Lord Althalon, if I may be so bold. From the little I have seen of your nation thus far, I am impressed with the way that the Five Kingdoms has handled its changes,” Stratton says, his voice full of sincerity, not speaking as a delegate but as a normal outsider looking in.

The Angsiyan makes no attempt to disguise a weary sigh. "It hasn't been easy," he admits in response. "Prior to the rebellion I was strictly a military man, but I've had to learn a lot about politics and civil administration in the last few years." Althalon climbs up onto the litter, followed by his foreign minister and their small guard. Once seated, he indicates their surroundings with a broad wave of his hand. "For example, all of this took a lot longer than it should have. The project to redo this ground was actually started a few months before the rebellion, and for a long time the project was abandoned and this land was used as an ammo dump." He chuckles. "So you can understand how even a modest project like this stretched us thin for a while. After the war ended I tried to turn my attention back to this development, but Orc attacks continued in parts of Ali'Staan as recently as three or four years ago which made construction difficult and dangerous. The changes have been... slow in coming. It's a nice place, this Foreign Quarter, but it's still only of the few complexes aside from the Serechav that we've managed to completely finish."

Lord Stratton nods, before letting his gaze wander outside of the litter, following Althalon's gesture. He could tell by looking that a lot of work had been put into it. “I am assuming that the risk of Orc attacks is now minimal?” He replies, suspecting the likelihood would have to be small if not totally eradicated.

The Ardan sovereign nonchalantly waves off the concern about Orcs, as the procession starts rolling. Slowly, they are flanked by CDC city patrol units and people can be seen gathering on the side of the street. "It's no matter," he asserts.

Mollified, Stratton turns the subject once more to more positive aspects. “I can see that a project such as this would take a lot of time, but just looking at the outcome it is obvious that a lot of hard work and dedication has gone into this. On top of the other aspects of bringing about a new government and everything else that comes with it, it is impressive indeed.”

Leaning in to hear all of Stratton's words as they near a drumline, Althalon nods vigorously in agreement. As Stratton concludes his remarks, the Angsiyan gestures to Kit. "This is the guy to talk to about most of that, I'm afraid," he answers with a chuckle.

"Well, Becker was responsible for the actual construction," the Easterling breaks in. "He designed and built most of the buildings here."

Althalon nods. "Yes, Becker has truly done a fantastic job. I've decided to keep him on as a subordinate to your Office." He winks at Stratton. "The man will be the best paid groundskeeper on the Ardan continent!"

“My commendation is sent to all involved in bringing not only a truly spectacular sight to Arda, but also in giving all of us,” Lord Stratton indicates himself and Oriana as examples, “the chance to work with you in comfort.” Following his statement he turns and once more focuses on proceedings outside the litter, perhaps distracted by a passer-by. Althalon bows his head to Stratton as Kit quietly guides the Tartaran Lord's gaze to places of interest around them, both among their immediate surroundings and the skyline some distance off.

While Val was playing interested sightseer, Oriana sits forward in her seat, bringing herself into the conversation a little more. “Lord Althalon, other than opening embassies, do you have other plans to promote the Five Kingdoms’ new image?” Like most Tartarians, she was probably a little forward in her questions. “It must be an exciting time for all involved, watching those around you coming to terms with the new Arda, while at the same time, there must be a little apprehension."

The Angsiyan slides his gaze to Oriana as she speaks. "Certainly. We don't know exactly what to expect, but one can only hope that people won't try to break our backs with reparations. The attitude here is that we've settled accounts with ourselves, and now we must settle with others." He shrugs and spreads his hands. "After all, Morgoth told us what to do and we actually did it for a while. The things he did wouldn't have been possible without our compliance." He pauses. "One of the reasons why Arda is so interested in Tartarus is because it's one of the few nations against which I can think of no tresspass on our part. Morgoth only dealt with certain portions of the NDA. I thought it was a mistake at the time but it appears to have had its benefits."

“As with most nations, Lord Althalon, that is the way of the world,” Oriana states, having respect for those that had taken the risk to correct what they believed to be wrong. “The Empire is indeed lucky to be entering into this new beginning, carrying no baggage and no past experiences that could cloud our judgements, but I would be lying if I said we did not hear of Morgoth’s exploits.” She brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear absentmindedly as she looks over at Val. Seeing him wrapped up in conversation about the scenery, she continues. “Her Majesty is keen to prove that she is welcoming this change with a positive attitude. I know that her reason for placing an embassy here is to give her approval of this new Arda and her hopes that it may flourish under your control.”

Althalon laughs easily. "Believe me, I hope it does too!" He leans forward a bit, resting his elbows on his knees. Absently his hands slide flat against one another as he speaks, his fingers dragging nearly to his wrists before he lazily repeats the gesture in the opposite direction. "I would hope a great amount of progress has been made already," he continues thoughtfully. "We don't know exactly how far the rebellion alone will have done to fix things. I hope at the very least it can be regarded as a healthy start." He heaves a sigh. "Some may be more difficult to please. Menelmacar's reaction will probably be the most closely watched."

He lifts his shoulders slowly in a vague shrug. "But there's no reason why we can't start with a clean slate in Tartarus..." his voice raises as they near another drumline, and the honor guard in front of them shouts a chant as they pass it. "... where hopefully we can make some progress towards proving ourselves!"

Oriana waits until they pass the drumline before replying, as she did not want to be caught shouting when it went quiet. “The Empire of Tartarus, though it does listen to what others are saying, likes to keep an open mind when dealing with new people. I can see no reason why there would be any trouble between our two nations.” She smiles and reclines a little in her seat. “In my position as Tartarian Ambassador to the Five Kingdoms, it will be my responsibility to ensure that we do nothing to cause any friction.”

Althalon clears his throat and stirs a bit in his seat. "Well, before we can get anything started in any serious kind of way, a cultural exchange of sorts would be a good idea. We know next to nothing about Tartarus and its environs--who it deals with and so on." His eyes scan the treeline some distance off and he pauses. "I'm sure we have much to learn about each others' tendancies and preferences, after all."

Kit's attention returns to Althalon and Oriana's discussion. "Ah yes," breaks in the Foreign Minister, reaching into his satchel as if on que. "We were wondering if there was any material you could offer us in that way-- a simple travel guide would do for now, but specifically we're interested in your cutlure, geography, and day to day life." The Easterling minister squints as he files through his assembled documents, and a frustrated exlamation escapes his lips. "Here we are," he announces finally, offering a file folder to whoever takes it first. "I've assembled some documents in an attempt to explain the Ardan nation."

As the conversation turns to more serious elements, Lord Stratton breaks off his sightseeing and returns his attention to events inside the vehicle, but it is Oriana who continues with the discussion. She takes the offered file, then opens the dossier file that she has resting in her lap and flips through the information inside before closing it and offering it to the foreign minister.

“This is just a brief overview of the Empire of Tartarus. I can send you a more detailed file in the next couple of days,” she informs Kit. As she lets go of the file, she brings her hands to rest in her lap, clutching her fingers around her handbag, now what her hand is free. “Of course, both Lord Stratton and myself are available to fill you in with anything you need to know.”

Kit nods as he reviews the offered file, falling silent as the Angsiyan takes up where the minister left off. "Has Tartarus been militarily active at all recently?" He scratches his head. "I remember being impressed with Tartarn defense figures, but I'm not certain I've ever seen your military in action."

Lord Stratton smiles, and shakes his head. “I am pleased to say that we have not had call to use our military in any active way, at least not for a while.” He pauses for a moment. “Of course, we do have forces attached to the NDA and have a good military. One day we might have call to use it, but hopefully not too often or too soon.”

Oriana continues, having let Val finish before talking. “Her Imperial Majesty is of the opinion that military use is only to be considered once a more diplomatic route has been tried. Of course, that does not mean that under the right circumstances she would not be willing to sent out armed forces if it was the only answer and all else had failed.”

The corners of Althalon's mouth are tugged down and he raises his eyebrows. He doesn't appear displeased, in fact the expression comes off as one of approval. "Fair enough," he answers simply, with a slight nod. "Arda is and always has been heavily militaristic, as we've made painfully obvious in the past."

Kit looks up from the folder in his hands with a glance to his sovereign. His tone gives the impression that the two of them have discussed this before. "Although in the past we were militarists because our foreign policy dictated we be, and because we were thralls of a madman," he reminds the group. "Needless to say I do not intent to pursue the..." he pauses. "The decidedly jingoistic policies advocated by Morgoth."

Althalon folds his hands over one another. "Our military is more of a general necessity now; before it was simply a means to an end." His face clouds. "Morgoth is gone, but Orcs remain in force to the North. It's very dangerous to live in the northern reaches of Dunland or Nova Rhûn. It's been very damaging to agriculture there. Some have managed to press fairly far south too, using the tunnels," he admits. "They're apparently aware of routes we don't know of, or have made new ones. We only just got them out of Ali'Staan a few years ago."

The Ambassador nods her head and focuses on Althalon as he finishes speaking. “Presenting the world with a new nation takes not only a lot of dedication from those in the government but a lot of support from the military. It is times like those you have recently gone through that bring the foolhardy out of the woodwork. Those that feel they have something to prove.”

Lord Stratton flicks his eyes from Oriana, and turns to Althalon. “The Empire does not condemn militarist nations, especially if there is a need in order to maintain peace or safety.”

Kit and Althalon both smile warmly. "We're glad you share our sentiments in that regard," answers Kit heartily. "But we feel that to have a real impact the Arda/Tartarus relationship should extend well past military concerns to a cultural level." He crosses his legs, clasping his hands over his right knee. "What are some of the qualities, broadly speaking, of the Tartaran people? Are they actively interested in politics or foreign affairs? Towards what industries to they tend to lean?"

Both Tartarians remain silent for a moment, before the Empress’ cousin replies. “The people of Tartarus are interested in politics as much as it involves them, but as all government officials are appointed by the Empress or a representative of her, there is little for the general populace to say on the matter. Of course, any cause of concern they have would be reviewed and dealt with.” He frowns a little in thought, little furrows appearing on his forehead. “The people tend to get along with their lives with little fuss. I can think of nothing that makes them different from other humans in the world. They deal with tradition and culture in the same way they have in years. Not that we are a backward nation, just maybe a little stuck in our ways.”

It was then Oriana’s turn to continue. “Some of our major industries are mining, agriculture and manufacturing. Currently the Empire is working on a lot of technological issues, having acquired land on Triton, we are working on our space program. Of course, we have other industries, but I can supply you with a more detailed list when I send you the information I mentioned earlier.”

Althalon paws at his face as the Tartarans speak, nodding slowly to what they say as he rests his nose in the curve of his hand between thumb and forefinger, his palm covering his mouth. As Oriana finishes he raises his head slightly, and unhands his mouth. "Sounds like we have some common ground, then."

Kit nods, and reaches up to adjust his spectacles. "Well, we will of course need to examine the economics of the situation, but as usual, trade relations seem like an excellent place to start. I'm sure we have plenty of things to offer up as part of a fair and profitable exchange. We will of course need to get more specific, but now probably isn't the time for that."

The entire party sways forward a bit as the transport stops, having reached its location immediately in front of the FMLO steps. Althalon beams, and extends his hand to Stratton. "It was a pleasure to talk, if only briefly," he asserts. "Now that we have arrived I have some matters to attend to," he says regretfully.

Lord Stratton shakes the Angsiyan's hand, his grip firm and businesslike. “It has been a pleasure meeting you, Lord Althalon. I hope that we have occasion to meet again in the future.”

Kit stands and offers his hand in turn. "I can escort you into the FMLO complex proper and we can get this embassy business formally underway. I'm glad it seems we have so much in common. Always pleasant when these things work out as planned, no?"

“We would be honoured to have you lead the way,” answers Stratton as he turns to Kit.

The party exchanges the remaning handshakes. “I too extend my pleasure at meeting you and I look forward with working with the Five Kingdoms for the foreseeable future.” Oriana smiles warmly at Kit. “I know that the Empress Gehenna has high hopes for successful relations between our two nations.” She falls silent, as does Lord Stratton and waits for the Ardans to lead the way, both looking forward to concluding the official greeting and getting down to business.

The Angsiyan takes his leave as the Honor Guard stops and faces the delegation. Becker hurries to the fore, and when he arrives there he thumps his boots together and offers a salute. "Indeed," replies Kit absently with a glance to the Colonel, returning the salute a moment later.

Slowly he mounts the stairs towards the FMLO building. "We have a temporary office you can use for a hew hours, in case you need to contact your country or receive documents. I have some things to attend to as well, but I'll still be in the FMLO complex if you need me."

He gestures to Becker, who steps forward with two Iteration men. "Colonel Becker here will escort you to your office, and whenever you're ready he can take you out onto the grounds to select a building." The Easterling offers a sweeping bow. "It was a great honor to have met and conversed with you. Arda is truly embarking on a great diplomatic quest, and thanks the Tartarans for participating."

Of the Kajali laying out their section that had been arranged within the Sunset embassy, one was perhaps more immediately recognizable as the feminine side of the Duma, a certain first generation D-SHADAR unit more appropriately designated Shar. In her experience, it helped to have someone like her around, especially when the other users didn't know exactly what they were doing and managed to create impossible, non-manifold structures and monstrosities instead of desks.

She'd been floating around earlier with SHODAN, discussing a few things, and would occasionally touch base with the Sunset authorities concerning varied aspects of the module thus far.

The two she was accompanying on this little design trip were, of course, the Ambassadors that had been assigned to represent Kajal. The senior of the two was a Karl Schuner, having served with the Diplomatic Corps for fifteen years. He was human by birth and augmented by choice, having fulfilled naturalization qualifications and holding Kajali citizenship for 27 years, or at least, that's what his papers said. He had a seemingly ageless quality about him, despite his head of salt'n'pepper hair. He'd served previously in international relations on Mars, and had accepted the offer of a post on Earth without explicitly asking where it _was_.

He was somewhat surprised when he found THAT tidbit out, but strangely enthusiastic.

His colleague, Sharlotte Alfonso, stood a bit shorter than he did at, at around 5'7", blonde haired, blue eyed, and pointed in ear. The latter normally precluded the former among the Kajali population, and she was, technically, 'human', if Homo Sapiens Nobilis was still counted. Of course, this also meant she was somewhat older than her partner, if less experienced directly in the field, and she held Kajali and Sunset citizenship thanks to parents that had met somewhere in Kajal Mars on the maglev. Some people thought she was half elven. She normally referred to herself as Kajali, though there was something of an odd arrangement when it came to government jobs and dual citizenship, in that she was about as high up the chain as she could go without giving up a citizenship or going into the private sector.

Every few minutes the two would start arguing about some facet of the office, and Shar would wander off and talk to some people, and then come back and fix the entire mess, again. The end result was an office that was... eclectic, but at least none of the furniture violated the laws of physics.

Meanwhile, arrangements were made to keep the date of arrival, as to participate in the reception and then the groundbreaking for the now-multinational embassy, which would, with any luck, have all the subsections designed in time, as long as no one decided to make radical changes to their section in the middle of the night.

***
"The aid of Iesus Christi, in some of Arda's darkest hours have not been forgotten," begins Kit reverently. "Once again, we in Arda are compelled to offer our deepest thanks to one of our oldest and most steadfast allies."

"However," he continues, his tone assuming a more businesslike demeanor, "we cannot stress the importance of our administration changes enough. Before relations can continue as they have in the past, we must be certain that the Iesus family stands behind Arda and not Morgoth."

His voice changes back to its initial tone of honored familiarity. "Nonetheless we are confident ties will remain strong as they ever were. We cannot imagine that such a pious nation would continue to seek favor from the Black Enemy. We would be honored to receive a delegation from Iesus Christi on or after May the 14th. Eru's blessings be upon you."
***


Bridgette Iesus reply was quick and as formal as Iesus messages get.
"My comrade...our friendship was always with the people, our blood runs toegther and forms a bond that time can never destroy.
It has always been our nations intent to honour Arda and the blood pack that we swore years ago. Know we support YOU and trust that as in the past...Iesus is behind you..supporting you..
God is with us my old friend...who can be against us!
I trust Ambassador Alexander Orson into your care. May the blessings of God be upon you.
Bridgette Iesus"

Ambassador Alexander Orson was thin and tall with greasy skin and hair. He wore the brown uniform of the Ministry of Social order yet it hung of his gaunt frame. Out of his long thin face cold small eyes peered out at the world.
His flight was an Iesus military jet, simple and practical in design...

Come on join the party
Dress to kill
Won't you come and join the party
Dress to kill.

The drinks flow
People forget
That big wheel spins, the hair thins
People forget
Forget they're hiding
The news slows
People forget
The shares crash, hopes are dashed
People forget
Forget they're hiding.

Behind an eminence front
Eminence front - It's a put on.

--The Who, Eminence Front

The FMLO building was situated more or less in the center of the Foreign Quarter, nearer to some of the "prime" embassy plots. It sat a few hundred yards away from an elaborate roundabout at the intersection of the two main avenues leading through the quarter. On the North side of the roundabout was a small pick up/drop off area for executive vehicles, from which a pathway led to an elaborate, tapering staircase that took one to the terrace directly outside FMLO.

At the entrance to this terrace sat the two dragons, which were already famous in Arda and were soon to make their existence known to the visitors. Althalon had arranged for a merchant exhibition from all over Arda, and merchants from all kingdoms had shops set up on either side of the pathway and on either side of both streets leading into the roundabout. The 100 yard long walkway from the roundabout steps to the FMLO terrace was open to the public, although no shops were permitted inside the dragons.

Doomguard men stood in groups of two about every fifty yards on either side of both roads, with doubled guards on the roundabout steps, this ratio continuing onto the FMLO grounds itself, which in turn was guarded by Iteration Marines. Ardan citizens would trickle past the guards and inspect the booths. The Angsiyan had been careful to limit the number of passes onto the foreign quarter, and screened their recipients carefully. At a casual glance they'd about pass for commoners, but despite their population the milling Ardans in the area were almost exclusively members of the leading Houses throughout Arda, so unruliness was not expected.

The party would occur in two places at once, and foreign dignitaries were afforded passes to traverse between both areas as they pleased, although civilians usually (unless they were very well connected civilians) had to choose between one of the two venues. The first was a more formal reception inside the FMLO building itself and outside on its terraces, and would start at 7:30 pm local time. A small string ensemble would be present to fill the lavish room with subdued vibrations; in stark contrast to what Reaven billed as the "Main Event!" (the exclamation point was part of his name for it, even if it should appear in print in the middle of a sentence) outside.

The main reception room in the FMLO office was a cavernous, gold plated interior with simple, spherical lamps hanging from the ceiling in differing intervals. What would otherwise have been the reception desk was elongated and converted into a bar, and had a second surface constructed immediately behind it so the bartenders could attend both to newcomers, and to people already mingling behind the bar. As one entered the room the string ensemble would be to their far left, with the Angsiyan presiding atop a dias directly at the back of the room. No tables stood between the dias and the bar, but took up the sides of the foyer instead.

Dinner would be served at about 9:00, and tables were set meticulously both inside the FMLO and out on the terrace in banquet fashion, with each attendee's place already reserved for them. Althalon's table would sit behind the side exit from FMLO, larger (of course) than the rest, presumably with space for a few select delegates and positioned so as to allow observation of the other tables.

If the guests found these environs too dull or too formal, a path leading out the rear of FMLO would take its traveller down a gentle hill, where s/he would be flanked on either side by the glowing gold, white, and green orbs that also dotted the terrace. A guard was posted on a checkpoint just about two thirds of the way down the hill to make sure people entering the Main Event! had the necessary clearance.

The Main Event! was situated at the bottom of the hill, right where the ground flattened again, on what would end up being the Menelmacari embassy plot. An enormous bandstand sat underneath a white and red canopy of equally ridiculous size, and sound equipment was ubiquitous. It was under this canopy that the Ardans and their guests would behold a relatively common sight throughout the Five Kingdoms: the Minister for Popular Enlightenment and his band "Magnum Jihad."

In any other country it would probably seem unusual to have a cabinet member playing electric guitar for money. Reaven, on the other hand, had been a prominent member of the media for some time; even dating back to the Five Kingdoms' days under Morgoth. Because of the quality of his voice, the little time he spent in the aerospace division of the military was almost always spent in communications; most notably his stint as the communications officer aboard the Nargothrond, where he got his start. His group currently consisted of a half Haradrim half Easterling bass player who happened to be a member of the Honor Guard that had received the Menelmacari delegation; a maniac Veriag drummer no one had heard of before, and Reaven's second guitar player, a Dunlending of obscure origin.

The bandstand was large enough to support many more than just the four of them, so a horn section, grand piano, and backup singers were assembled for what was to be a 3-4 hour set in front of a potentially difficult audience to please. A cordon was thrown up about a hundred and fifty or so yards away from the bandstand; offering the dignitaries plenty of room to mingle while still allowing civilian ticketholders to enjoy the show from the lawn. Picnic blankets and tents would dot the lawn, reminiscent of a minature Woodstock with only one performer.

The reception was an attempt to provide something for everyone. Those who were interested in culture could examine the shops along the street; those who wanted to rub elbows with Ardan (and presumably foreign) elite could do so inside FMLO, and those who wanted to get rip roaring drunk and listen to loud live music could attend the Main Event! a couple hundred yards away from FMLO. On the terrace, servants dressed in green and gold would attend to the guests' every wish, and at the Main Event! Iteration marines oversaw security in the hopes of making their guests more at ease, especially in the presence of Ardan civilians.

Prior to the event, a joint communique would be issued both from Reaven's ministry and Kit's Foreign Office:


TO: Attending nations
From: The Ardan Foreign Office and the Ministry for Popular Enlightenment
RE: Reception on May 21st

It is with great joy and honor that we invite you to participate in a diplomatic reception on the evening of May 21st. We are hoping to inaugurate our new life with a grand celebration to take place in and around the FMLO building in Ali'Staan's foreign quarter.

We invite and encourage all able to attend to do so. The party will take place on two main areas: on the FMLO floor and terrace, and a short distance away on an empty plot where Reaven will perform with his ensemble. A foreign office official has been dispatched to each party in order to provide a basic crash-course in Ardan customs and to answer any questions you might have about the proceedings.

The event will begin at 7:30 sharp with a short military parade from Iteration III. Dinner will be served at 9:00pm, with Reaven's act to follow. Attendees are invited to select their dish of choice along with their RSVP. Official diplomatic personnel may of course remain on FMLO grounds as long as they wish, but civilian passes will expire at 3:00am.

OOC:
Lawn and street passes for civilians will be sold both at home and abroad: so basically you can send anyone you want, provided they're actually willing to come and sit on a lawnchair or mingle on the street with Ardans. Diplomats will be informed by the Foreign Office that state visitors will be expected to make at least a token appearance in the FMLO building itself or on the terrace, and that there's a formal dress code in place there.

So no bikinis Kajal :P

OOC: Arda opening it's gates with*out* said gates belching out fire fueled by children's tears? That's new.

IC:

Far away, on the Traileric capital planet Trailicus Prime

The Ardan invitation bled dreamily across a pool of water located in the center of the Traileric Tribunal chamber, located high above the capital city of Met. The few Archangels present at a time when the Tribunal was not in session tittered gnatlike about such a thing as goodwill from Arda. Nonetheless, matters of foreign affairs were in the hands of their Grandmaster.

After a moments deliberation, Grand Archangel Themistocles murmured more to himself than anyone, "Well. A friendly Arda. And I thought I'd seen it all. Very well. Chorial. Thou shalt attend this..eh..momentous occasion. Extend our good will to the five kingdoms and do what you can to establish a trade pact and whatnot."

The Archangel keyed a few mental commands into his armored suit, and was promptly patched in to the Traileric Communication Network.

Tiloka Kit, mouth of the Five Kingdoms. We, the Trailarii, have long admired the might of Arda. It would be an most prodigious honor if my servant and his honorguard would be permitted to attend your summit of peace. A response of acceptance will be eagerly awaited.

((OOC flexi time here as I will be away for a few days, this of course takes place on the day of 21st or 20th.))

IC
The Yvresse official Ambassador had of course already arrived taking up residence in his temporary office, still he hastened down to the Grav-Port for the arrival of the High Farseer, come for the Ardan party. He arrived therefore with more than enough time to watch Iyanna’s personal craft land, the smooth wraithbone constructed craft, was like all Yvresse vessels, a work of art as much as a functional craft. Each Farseer had a personal craft, and each reflected in part the nature of the Farseer, Galdern’s for example had a large number of holding cells for the storing of samples for his research, Badb’s was small, and could only truly comfortably hold two, but was also able to hide from most sensor systems.

Iyanna’s was large, larger than any of the other Farseer’s it was as much a place to hold court as to visit foreign nations, on it’s side was embedded the rune of Yvresse, a spider like rune, and above it a flame, Iyanna’s personal symbol. It took its shape from the Myths of Asuryan, ancient ruler of the Eldar Pantheon.

Eventually the craft came to land and the side cracked open, two flags unfurling from inside, as Ten Dire Avenger’s descended to take up position on either side of the entrance. Plumes flapping in a light wind from their helmets, rifles slung over one shoulder they stood at attention. Next came two Keigh dressed in loose robes, each bearing a large broadsword easily as big as themselves, yet seemingly causing no discomfort to the two. On their robes were again the Spider Rune of Yvresse, and the flame of Asuryan rune, blazing with eldritch energies. They advanced down the middle of the Avenger’s slowly. Behind them came Iyanna herself. Tight Golden clothing shined in the sunlight, over which was draped two long sleeves covered in more runic symbols, each blazing with barely contained energy, hurting the eyes to look at for too long. She carried no weapon of course; instead she walked proudly behind her escort. Around her neck a single thin circlet of some metal draped before heading into her clothing to rest protected under the ancient protections she wore.

Behind her descended two more keigh, in far looser clothing female like Iyanna they carried in their hands each a single Box, currently closed, and each was inlaid with Gems, along with fine carvings. The first box was carved out of wood, the second from Wraithbone. It seemed the Council was going to make nice.

Hours before the party was supposed to begin, thirteen dark shadows flickered across the land which once was the home of all darkness. The black hulls of the Forbidden Honor and its escort, twelve fighters proudly cloaked in the Stars and Sword motif that adorned the Presidential Guard Squadron and all the Eagle-class diplomatic shuttles, raced onwards over the lands of the Five Kingdoms, acting, for all intents and purposes, like pure air-breathing craft in their flight pattern. They slid to an unnatural looking stop to anyone who did not know the full extent of inertia-canceling drives above the Foreign Quarter, and more specifically, above the Federation embassy located there.

They dropped like rocks, straight down. Five Kingdoms traffic control had been appraised of their flight plan, and so were unlikely surprised, and the embassy below was waiting for them. The baseball field was rolled back completely to admit the relatively ponderous bulk of the Honor, compared to the other, much smaller ships it routinely housed. Even still, the ship slowed to a crawl as it slipped through the opening, and then was followed by wing pairs of the fighters.

Those hours passed in relative silence, but at roughly the time the party was scheduled to begin, two ground cars of what were clearly Federation make slithered out of their underground garage, small flags snapping on their fenders. The short drive through the streets of the Foreign Quarter was extended much longer by the crowds and the relatively circuitous route they traveled to the FMLO building. They crunched softly to a stop at the end of the walking approach to the building. From the first vehicle alighted Eighth Ambassador Tobias Mulvehill, the Federation Ambassador to the Five Kingdoms, who then extended his arm back to his wife, Rachel, who followed him with a smile. Next from the car came the commander of the Federation Space Marines who guarded the embassy, a Captain Christian Dawes, who also reached back, escorting the Mulvehill’s daughter, Judith, who was old enough to attend unlike their son.

The Ambassador was wearing formal blacks, a floor length cape swirling about his ankles as he moved. The clothing was unadorned by any colors except for the gold and white intertwined cords on his shoulder, those of government service. The raven-haired Rachel wore a glittering gold one shoulder gown, covered with a black gauze wrap around cape. Dawes wore the Space Marine Corps Mess Dress uniform, his bandolier displaying an impressive number of awards for an officer so young. Accordingly to his station, he offered his arm to the sixteen year old Judith, who, with her father’s golden hair, wore a burgundy strapless ball gown with matching gloves and a midnight blue wrap around her shoulders.

From the second car came a very different sight. The first two people to exit the vehicle were dressed entirely in matte black, seeming to suck in the light from around them. But unlike Tobias, this black was not clothing, but armor. While not battle armor, the semi-powered armor of the Presidential Guard was immediately obvious, missing as it was the golden faceplate of most types of that armor. It was nearly impossible to tell between the two immobile sentries for a moment, until one of them walked forward, the armor not entire hiding the feminine sway of her hips, and the other spoke in what was clearly a male voice, inviting the remaining occupant of the vehicle to emerge and offering her his hand. The voice which replied was a complaint. “Why did you have to wear that armor, Simon? And the guns?”

It was true. Both Guardsmen were carrying battle rifles and side arms, lethal and not, along with an impressive assortment of other weaponry concealed in their armor. Not hidden from scanners, but hidden from plain sight. “You know why, Miss Smith,” the Guard Sergeant replied.

A huff of exasperation was heard before Jessica emerged from the conveyance. “I can never tell if you’re actually listening to me when you wear that stuff, ‘cause I can’t see your eyes.” Special Representative Jessica Smith was dressed in a strapless georgette black cocktail dress, with a low waist that emphasized her rather slender figure, especially given the scrolling beadwork lines across the torso, and a asymmetrical handkerchief hemline which revealed her shapely legs behind layers of translucent chiffon. Her hair, a much darker shade of brown than her brother’s, was piled into a neat twist atop her head.

The Federation party gathered together, smiled and made polite comments about the drive as the vehicles vanished away. Slowly the party goers made their way up the pathways towards the building, examining the shops as they went, hardly a surprise given that the females in the party outnumbered the males, trailed everywhere by Jessica’s two Guards, silent and alert.

Having been there for the opening of the Embassy, it seemed fitting that the Empire of Tartarus remained represented by Lord Val Stratton, cousin to the Empress Gehenna. He had stayed in the Five Kingdoms during the time of the opening and the reception, getting a better understanding of the nation that had been for the longest time closed to them. It also gave him the time to help the new ambassador settle into her new role, and he had spent many days at the embassy, reporting the progress to Tartarus.

But this evening, it was not going to be all work, other than making an official appearance. And being one of the most relaxed members of the Stratton family, he found it easy to settle into the more party aspects of the job, while remaining professional and a good example of Tartarian society.

Standing in front of the mirror, he straightened his bow tie, tweaking it slightly until it looked perfect. He smiled at his reflection, happy that he looked presentable, then headed out of his bedroom suit and stopped in the sitting room doorway.

“You look very nice this evening,” Val commented, as his gaze fell upon the young woman standing in the middle of the room.

Debbie Cornick turned and smiled at her boss. “I had a couple of hours to get ready; my employer let me finish early today.” She gave a slow twirl, coming to a stop as she once more faced Lord Stratton. “You scrub up pretty good yourself, Your Highness,” she remarked, as she made her way over to where he stood.

Taking a couple of steps into the room, Val stopped as Debbie reached him, her hands instantly reaching for his bow tie, which she began to tweak. “I thought it was straight,” he said, knowing that it had become a bit of a routine for them.

“One can never been too careful,” Debbie announced, as she lowered her hands and examined her handy work. “There, perfect.”

Lord Stratton nodded and smiled. “Yes, you most certainly look it.” He watched as his companion blushed, knowing that the simplest compliment would do it. “Shall we go?” He asked, waiting for her to reply before moving over to the settee, where his jacket lay over the back. He picked it up and pulled it on, straightening the lines against his body.

Debbie moved over to the side table and picked up her clutch bag that matched the plum floor length gown she wore. Her outfit was rounded off with diamonds, that hung around her neck, her wrists and even appeared to sparkle in her hair, that had been pulled up in a fancy fashion, and was piled elegantly on the top of her head, with loose tendrils flowing down the back.

The two left the room and headed off to the main event, making sure that they arrived half an hour before the start of the military parade.

* * * * *

Ambassador Oriana Castile looked at her own reflection and lets out a sigh, before playing once more with her hair, twisting and pinning until finally she is happy that it looks its best. A pale mass of curls piled upon her head, with tiny ringlets of hair framing her face and caressing the back of her neck. A dark blue star holding the mass in place.

Brushing her hand down the midnight blue gown, that was sprinkled with tiny star diamantes that sparkled in the light, given the impression of a night sky, she gave herself the once over and finally decided she was ready.

She slipped on her shoes and grabbed her wrap, pulling it around her shoulders, before picking up her bag, then made her way out of the room, heading off to meet her escort for the evening.

* * * * *

The enthusiasm between the trio was high, and all three had been thrilled at the chance of not only fitting a trip of the Five Kingdoms into their itinerary, but managing to do so when the opening of FMLO complex was taking place. They knew the place would be in party mode and they were not against partying.

Kurt Johnson, Gareth Lucas and Cindy Harper moved through the streets, their gaze flicking between the people gathered and the shops that seemed to be spilling out around them. Their eyes were wide and they barely knew where to start, as they chattered to each other, each putting forward their suggestion.

For the two Kajali ambassadors, their arrival was rather conventional. The Diplomatic Corps rarely used actual shuttles, and thusly the craft they arrived in was, perhaps, a familiar one, though it had gone through several revisions.

The small corvette, about a hundred meters long, was escorted by two fighter craft, which would put down alongside it and generally act as honor guard, more than anything. The Imperatrix class corvettes were historically unarmed, and this one was no exception. They had expected protesters as soon as word of the craft got out, and as soon as they had landed at the designated spot, the security detail poured out as the rear ramp descended, even as the ground cars stowed in the bay were driven down onto the tarmac. They may not have been completely legal by local laws, though the drivers at least would have a good idea how to navigate the streets.

The two ambassadors sat in one of the cars, while the other two carried the security detail. It may not have been particularly subtle, though once the ambassadors were under the aegis of the Five Kingdom's security personnel, their own security would not be required as such.

The first stop was, of course, the temporary accomodations, and then, the reception!

Deputy Foreign Minister Andan Rabani stood silently at the top of the stairs leading up from the tarmac, flanked by an aide and three Iteration soldiers. Placidly, he looks on as the Eldar party disembarks and treks upwards toward him. Rabani and his entourage stand at a small monument commemorating the groundbreaking ceremony some years before, featuring a modestly sized sculpture of a pickaxe and shovelhead crossed.

Rabani whispers something to his aide, who slides his hand off the edge of the hammer and closes a file folder. Whistling to a passing CDC trooper, he passes the document off and it is taken away as the party takes a step towards Iyanna. Rabani's eyebrows lower in irritation as he attempts to scrutinize the High Farseer.

"First they want to both build and reserve an embassy," mutters Rabani to his aide in the Far Haradrim tounge. "And we can't even look this one straight in the eye." Power armor clad Doomguard marines come into view around the tarmac and a few move towards Rabani.

"Welcome!" booms the Deputy Foreign Minister a moment later. "I'm surprised the Seer Council would send someone so... prestigious." He extends his hand. "Allow me to introduce myself; I am Ardan Deputy Foreign Minister Andan Rabani, of Tolûk." He bows his head to his aide. "And this is my aide, Adil Berradi of Ahdashim."

As his name is mentioned, Berradi stands forward and also offers his hand. "It's an honor to meet you." Behind him, the shaded pathway to FMLO can be seen, and the dragon statue is visible at the end under a trellis.

"Come. The Angsiyan will surely love a word with you."

***

Erich Becker would turn out to be the one selected to be on the lookout for the Federation's Eighth Ambassador. Althalon had insisted on it, both to symbolize the bond between Ardan and Federation armed forces during the war, and because of the Angsiyan's apparent fondness for the man.

Understandably choosing a vantage under the shade, he is clad in a double-breasted black leather military jacket with a broad collar, fastened to the breast just above the right elbow. Iteration officers never wore medals with the leather coat, so the only adornments visible are his shoulderboards; and on the collar, pins designating his unit. With a bright yellow shirt and black tie underneath, he is identifiable as an engineer both by the cut of his jacket and the broad gold and black wreaths pinned to his collar: bearing a similar design to a nearby statue, featuring a pickaxe crossed with a shovelhead. His pants are black, with a yellow stripe leading down to his ankles opposite the inseam. His boots are big and featured large silver metal plates on the toes, with six bolts along the edges, black; flush with the plating.

His officer's cap bears a field-gray knot across the brim, over which sits an elaborate crest, featuring a shield cut out of ruby, overlaid in the center by a five-pointed star cut from smooth black rock with a thin white border. The top of the headpiece is black, but the cloth on the front of the cap underneath is a bright yellow with a black peak. A tiny but intricate parapet inlay was carved out at the edge of the peak, and glittered gold when his head poked out into the sun.

The stripes on his sleeve and the onyx studs on his braided white shoulderboards identify him as an Iteration Colonel to anyone with even a casual knowledge of Ardan military hierarchy; and the silver and black shoulder knot on his left side designates him as a Guardis Imperica soldier. He carries a sidearm with him, and is flanked by a red and white clad CDC Captain and two Iteration Sergeants, who appear to be more heavily armed. He shifts his weight to his left foot, removing his black leather gloves as the Federation entourage approaches, and tucks them inside his jacket. Oddly, he shows no visible signs of being disturbed by the heat, despite the combination his mostly black outer apparel and the hot Near Harad sun.

"Hello again, my friend," he starts politely, extending his hand with a nod to Tobias and his family. "It's good to see you again, even if our celebration may be a bit..." a wry grin passes his lips, "...long in coming in your particular case." He shrugs. "After all, we've been friendly with the Federation for a bit longer." He winks. "Maybe we should've thrown you your own party!"

He lifts his head a bit. "Nonetheless, we're very much moved of course that the Federation would take such a keen and immediate interest in mending the fence with us, so to speak."

***

The Tartaran delegation had made it to the grounds while Kit and Althalon were making their final preparations, and ended up having to wait around a bit before being taken in. Kit, followed by an aide and two Iteraton guards, walks swiftly; mounting a small hill opposite the Tartarans and waving them down.

"Hello!" He shouts, almost out of breath. The fingers of his left hand instinctively curl around the front edge of his jacket, tugging it down slightly. He wears an expensive looking brown suit with a deep blue shirt and a matching tie. His hair, as always, is slicked straight back and shows no evidence of a part. His eyes look a little large under his glasses, especially when he leans in and offers his hand.

"I hope you haven't been waiting long. The Angsiyan and I were just wrapping up a meeting, and it seems I owe you an apology," he starts regretfully, "it ran a little late."

***

The Kajali entrance was an interesting and much contested one. Throngs of Haradrim protestors--outside the Foreign Quarter proper, of course--had piled onto the streets and sidewalks with signs and a myriad of other attention getting devices. One citizen, identifying the Kajali as they approach, foolishly fires a flare upwards. The floodgates, as they were, consisted of lines of Doomguard and CDC men, between blockades and AFV's.

The protest had spread into the military and disrupted the security precautions for the event. Near Haradrim almost unanimously refused to guard the Kajali and in some cases even refused assignment in adjacent sectors, a condition which Becker was not prepared to meet. Unfortunately, this had led to the dismissal of about forty men, who had become an icon of the demonstration. The mob did not pounce upon Becker as an antagonist, instead heaping their hatred that much more upon the Kajali; whom they still regarded as having committed a cardinal sin.

The Kajali would be received by Ezr Sergoyan, the Veriag commander of Althalon's Guardis Imperica. Large and domineering (still common qualities among the upper echelons of Ardan military), Sergoyan would be waiting in front of the main steps not far from where Colonel Becker was conversing with the Federation Ambassador. Sergoyan's uniform was mostly a light brown, but with black cuffs, trim, and shoulderboards. He wore a white ascot underneath, but had no cap. Unlike Becker he kept his gloves on, his immaculate white hands crossed over one another in front of him.

Sergoyan distinguishes himself from the other officers both by his preponderance of medals, and the flowing brown and black cape that follows him. His braided shoulderboards resembled Becker's, but were gold and had platinum studs instead of white with onyx ones. His jacket has a more conventional cut, and the collar fastened to the breast with a button that sits in the small pit between his shoulder and collarbone. The jacket's belt buckles well above the waist, under the fourth button just beneath his ribs. His gold and black shoulder knot (the Ardans always wore them on the left) designate him as the Prime Warmashal of the Guardis Imperica. He does not appear to be armed.

With him stood the largest guard of the lot. Six Vzj'Nakai marines stand at ease behind him; their weapons drawn, but down. Aside from the Doomguard marines on the High Farseer's tarmac, these Vzj'Nakai are the only visible units wearing powered armor.

"Welcome to Arda," offers the Warmarshal with difficulty. "I should hope history won't repeat itself today," he continues, cutting right to the quick. His eyes are not tense; his eyebrows are not lowered. He does not appear irritated, but his gaze is unforgiving nonetheless. "It seems like we both have a bit of history to work through, no?"

The 14th had passed without any further details from the Five Kingdoms and of course this vexed the Vaadians, they were easy to vex and very hard to unvex.

Minister of Foreign Affairs, Sir Alec Connover had gone through the trouble of selecting and empowering a Special Envoy and he was going top use him. Word of the 'party' in Arda, in the Foreign Quarter, he was assuming that this was the long awaited 'details' of a meeting to establish diplomatic relations. Of course kicking such things off with a party, would further serve to irritate the business like Vaadians. Pleasure before or during business was absurd to the Vaadians, especially in a place as untrusted as Arda.

Despite all of the misgivings, Sir Alec was at least willing to give it a go.

Special Envoy Layne Al Azarad would arrive in Arda, with only his assistant, ostensibly as guest to the 'party' being thrown in the Foreign Quarter. He arrives in a single black Marathon Supersonic transport, as usual, the Vaadian envoy travels with no guards and no escort.

Envoy Al Azarad patiently awaits his greeting.

The Vaadians had, of course, fallen by the wayside in the last few days. Laying under a heap of other documents, the foreign office had nearly forgot about the Vaadians' missive, until one of them was seen waiting around FMLO's ingress plaza.

Discreetly, Rabani's aide Adil Berradi indicates Al Azarad's presence and suggests something be done about it. Moments later a short, nondescript Foreign Office official steps out of the crowd and flags down the Vaadian. Unlike his counterpart, he travels under an armed guard just like just about everyone else.

"Apologies for the wait," he begins professionaly. "We've had to deal with a lot in the last couple of weeks and the ah..." he inhales sharply and his throat tightens, revealing the bottom row of his teeth "...volume of your reply apparently didn't spur my superiors to immediate action." He grins and bows his head slightly. "Nonetheless, we have much to celebrate today!"

Offering his hand, he leans in slightly. "My name is Ari Horak; I'm Arda's Fifth Ambassador. Come with me, I'll lead you to a vantage for the upcoming parade."

***

Tiloka Kit, mouth of the Five Kingdoms. We, the Trailarii, have long admired the might of Arda. It would be an most prodigious honor if my servant and his honorguard would be permitted to attend your summit of peace. A response of acceptance will be eagerly awaited.


##TO: The Traileric Empire
##FROM: Tiloka Kit, Foreign Minister

Thank you for your interest. Embassies are now open for move-ins and there is still time to reserve space on the FMLO terrace for our upcoming ceremony, should you desire a berth. Attached is a map, designating occupied and reserved plots. If you would like to build your own, groundbreaking my begin anytime on or after May the 28th.

You may send an envoy of your choosing, but due to space restrictions on the FMLO terrace, we can only support a handful of bodyguards per attendee, so an out and out "honorguard" as such might be a little excessive, unless you're planning a seperate ceremony.

We look forward to hearing back from you and hope this may be the beginning of a wonderful friendship. May Eru's blessings be upon you.

##TO: The Traileric Empire
##FROM: Tiloka Kit, Foreign Minister

Thank you for your interest. Embassies are now open for move-ins and there is still time to reserve space on the FMLO terrace for our upcoming ceremony, should you desire a berth. Attached is a map, designating occupied and reserved plots. If you would like to build your own, groundbreaking my begin anytime on or after May the 28th.

You may send an envoy of your choosing, but due to space restrictions on the FMLO terrace, we can only support a handful of bodyguards per attendee, so an out and out "honorguard" as such might be a little excessive, unless you're planning a seperate ceremony.

We look forward to hearing back from you and hope this may be the beginning of a wonderful friendship. May Eru's blessings be upon you.


***

Many thanks are due. You may expect my servant within the day, accompanied by but a pair of Hoplite infantry. We are not a people prone to glitz and flare. Enclosed is the plot number upon which we plan to build our embassy. May all gathered benefit mutually in trade and culture

The Archangel keyed off the communication link, and the shimmery blue liquid at the chambers center smoothed itself over into a blank screen. Chorial was already on his feet, and wordlessly moving toward the exit. Before he could take his leave however, Themistocles spoke.

"Chorial."

At the sound of his name, the lesser being stopped and turned to his high king."Yes, master?"

"I know you well Chorial. Aggressive and young. This is a summit of peace, my son, not the battlefield. Approach with open arms, not a ready xiphos. Consider this a lesson in humility.", answered the aged veteran.

"As you command." With a bow, Clorial left the chamber.

===============================================

Four hours later at the edge of the system, a small shuttle craft exited the holds of the Hiveship Tortanum and zipped through an open slipgate to the Ardan system. The craft would, obviously, wait in line behind other vessels coming in ahead of it.

Offering his hand, he leans in slightly. "My name is Ari Horak; I'm Arda's Fifth Ambassador. Come with me, I'll lead you to a vantage for the upcoming parade."

***

Mr. Al Azarad took the proferred hand "I am Layne Al Azarad, Special Envoy, from The Free Republic of Ilek-Vaad. Pleased to meet you Mr. Horak."

The tall dark skinned Mr. Al Azarad raised an eyebrow at the mention of a parade and celebrations "I see." He seemed to be politely holding his tongue.

As they walked Al Azarad loosened his tongue a little "My superiors had expected some sort of talks before any such frivolity ever took place, I mean we have even yet to assess whether you nation is even worthy of our diplomatic attentions."

His voice was tinged with serious doubt. He looks over the armed guards as they walk, with increasing doubt.

'Fashionably late? Or just late enough that everyone will ignore me?'

Either way was good enough for the uncomfortable Ambassador Forsteri. Still he was as prepared as he could be given that he was currently dropping into Arda. The word still spooked him a little. Arda, and the Five Kingdoms in particular, had been what he had spent a good portion of his previous diplomatic career building and maintaining alliances against.

'Or people who want to be like the Ardans, or join the Ardans, or smell like the Ardans...'

Then he was there. The door swung up, the steps swung out, and the ambassador stepped down onto the pad. Forsteri ran his fingers back through the feathered orange highlights that shot through the hair above his ears and straightened his suit jacket. It was a nervous gesture that didn't result in any smoothing but instead just splayed them out more. The suit didn't benefit either - a neo-asian design hand-tailored for him on Diemos it hung perfectly on his medium frame.

'Well, let's rock and roll...'

He sighed inwardly, slapped a smile on his face, and stepped forward to be recieved. Behind him he heard the door on the Jade-Class swing down which left him framed by the large Sunset flag painted on the door.

Adaptation was the key here it seemed, Iyanna could hardly refuse to shake the two men’s hands, but the plan had been to have her formally introduced before she spoke, so adaptation. The two escorts bowed momentary then steeped one to each side of Iyanna who took a step forwards and extended her hand forwards pal downwards, obviously expecting the two men to well kiss it. She was after all female, and she would use that fact to allow her own script to play out, despite the, games it seems the Five Kingdoms reps where playing.

As therefore, her hand was extended the two guards spoke as one, no deep secret here, they where Psykers and simply kept time via such gifts. ‘May we introduce the Asuridain, Iyanna Arienal. By Her Deeds first Asuridain of Yvresse. By Her Deeds Prince of Lachlan city of a Thousand Veils. Daughter of Ishar.’ At the announcement of Daughter of Ishar the Dire Avenger’s turned as one to face the ship Iyanna had just left and marched back in.

Only now did Iyanna deign to speak. ’It is of course my pleasure to visit the Five Kingdoms long have the Farseers of Yvresse wished to see such sights as we see this day and hour, from Melian honoured still, to Telgorthrind and his Council, and myself, this has been something long overdue. How then could I refuse to come personally to see such a thing, free peoples in these lands? To speak to the heroes whose deeds overthrew a great blight upon all sentient peoples.’ unlike other Farseers Iyanna was able to keep her tone balanced even coming across as sincere, much good it would do her it seemed with these two.

‘I would of course be honoured to speak to the Angsiyan, and indeed we have brought tokens of our hope for a new age of peace between our peoples, an age where we might be able to pledge never again to meet under the gaze of Khaine.’ As she spoke the two women trailing Iyanna stepped forwards briefly and opened the two cases, to allow Rabani and Berradi to examine them.

The first, made of wood appeared to be of all things an actual fruit basket with some long buried bottle of wine, covered in dust sitting tucked within. ‘Each of the fruits and other goods held within, come from worlds and systems Yvresse has passed through since the day we first came aware of the Five Kingdoms.’ was the soft spoken explanation given by the woman carrying that case.

The second made of wraith bone held an ornate sword, encrusted with precious gems, and a hint of technology about it, and an ornate Pistol similarly covered in Gems. ‘Both the weapons are we assure you fully functional, and the sword balanced, and capable of cutting through even the thickest of barriers.’ It’s barer gave as explanation.

Once they had spoken Iyanna spoke again. ‘Obviously these are intended for the Angsiyan but we entrust them to you now for your safe keeping.’ At that the two women stepped forwards obviously expecting an aide or something come take the boxes off their hands, so they could withdraw to the ship, and although no hint of this crossed their features, escape the presence of the Mon-keigh.

Horak lifts a brow at the Vaadian's commentary, although no irritation is visible on his face. "Well mister Al Azarad, it was the Vaadians who sent a diplomat to us, in point of fact; merely because we happen to be opening our Foreign Quarter does not obligate everyone to come knocking. Whether we're 'worthy of diplomatic attention' or not appears to have been answered by your very presence, since I doubt you'd be here if your country had zero interest in these proceedings."

He shrugs simply as they turn a corner, now within sight of the main ingress plaza. "If you do not have the time for such 'frivolities,' you are by no means obligated to attend; and may leave if the proceedings are not to your liking. Until then, please do not assume it is a crime of ours for your government not having requested any more specific talks during the past week."

***

As Iyanna offers her hand, Berradi is clearly perplexed--the gesture was not known to his native Far Harad, and Rabani only knows of it as the result of diplomatic training. Occasionally a woman would offer her hand in a similar fashion in parts of Dunland, but it was rarely if ever seen in any of the other four kindgoms.

Rabani takes Iyanna's hand and kisses it on the knuckle, Berradi tentatively following his boss' lead a moment later before taking a step back, behind Rabani and to his left. An irritated look passes over Rabani's face as the guards offer their litany of titles. He couldn't help but compare internally the Farseer's apparent fondness for titles in contrast with the Angsiyan's distaste for them.

Without being able to look at his guest for very long, Rabani nearly loses his diplomatic composure--he is clearly irritated by the Eldar and guesses his attempts to hide it are not overly effective. "Overdue indeed," he offers simply, breaking is gaze with the Farseer once more with great irritation. "Very much so."

As the Eldar offer their gifts, Rabani barks a command to his guards in Dunlending, and one at a time they step forward to take each of the proffered boxes. Berradi peers at the fruits and whispers something in Rabani's ear. The Deputy Foreign Minister nods, and quietly issues his directive to the guard holding the fruits.

Two more guards approach the party and take up the positions of the old ones, as the two previous guards depart to deposit their gifts. Rabani clears his throat. "Now that we've dispensed with the pleasantries I daresay it's time for business." He turns on his heels and begins to walk down the shaded walkway towards the FMLO building. There is a great deal of foliage around them, but the branches are neatly cut to avoid incursions onto the path itself, which was flanked on either side by Easterling style paper lanterns.

Civilians are still present on the pathway, but obediently step aside as the party approaches. Another small guard seems to have materialized out of nowhere and moves forward with them in the meantime, appearing a few yards ahead of Rabani and his entourage from an alcove in the brush. These guards, unlike the Iteration men flanking the Deupty Foreign Minister and his aide, are clad in the gold and black of Althalon's Vzj'Nakai.

As they approach the dragon statues, Althalon himself is visible just beyond them. He stands on a small pedestal, conversing quietly with the Prime Warmarshal of the Pax Imperica, a striking Southron named Khaled Sudani. Sudani's uniform is a darker shade of red than seen on CDC uniforms, and was cut much like Sergoyan's, save for a handful of custom alterations around the cuffs and collar.

Althalon wore two colors; the tan of the Guardis and the blood red of Sudani's Pax Imperica. His uniform was meant to be a symbol of Arda's status of being at war or peace: during peace it was clasped under his right shoulder with the tan coloring prevalent, and during times of war he would be seen with the uniform clasped on his left, with the blood red standard of the Pax dominant. His jacket was double breasted and cut not unlike Becker's engineer's jacket. On his right side was the deep crimson; but as they were presently at peace, most of the uniform's red color was hidden by the tan left side. The jacket appeared to have a silky outer texture to it, and the color appeared darker or lighter depending on its angle relative to nearby light sources. Every visible edge of the garment was trimmed black, with a matching trim on the bottom of his tan and red dress pants.

His cuffs form a V angling away from his hands, and underneath these broad cuffs he wears a pair of powered gauntlets. A curved sword undoubtedly of Easterling origin hangs at his hip, and a gold and black cape blows behind him as he stands. His shoulder knots are understandably more complex than the others, with broader ropes of crimson, gray, and black than his generals. He doesn't wear very many of his medals (in fact, Sergoyan appears to have a greater volume of them); merely one or two of his more distinguished awards, alonside rank and unit designations reminiscent of his old Fury's Call batallion.

As the delegation approaches, Atlahlon and Sudani cease their conversation, and the latter snaps instinctively to attention. Berradi and Rabani stand aside, presumably encouraging their Eldar visitors to offer the the High Farseer's litany of titles to the Angsiyan; whom both men knew would likely disapprove of such a display.

Althalon exchanges a salute with the three Vzj'Nakai men who had led the delegation through the ingress walkway. He nods to Rabani, and then his gaze alights on the High Farseer. He does not appear to have any difficulty in looking straight at her, which he now does with great interest.

OOC:Sunset, since you're coming in late-ish, I'm going to hold off on my reply to you until after the processional, which I will post either in conjunction with or immediately after Siri's arrival (depending on which end of it she wants to sit). Trailers, I tried to whip up something for you, but the last post didn't really offer any new information and from what I can see, you don't actually have a man on the ground in Ali'Staan yet. You won't have to 'wait in line' for any meaningful length of time, so you can go ahead and assume you land and disembark safely, etc etc.

The Menelmacari government believed firmly in showing off. In this instance, showing off consisted of something completely out of left field. Túrelio showed up with an almost comically large train, like (much of Menelmacar) something out of a fantastical novel.

Indeed, it was more of a procession, led by a man in a white, hooded habit, with red-burgundy cogwheel trim. He tossed a baton with outright absurd dexterity in silvered fingers. From his back he wore several trailing tendrils that extenuated his movements, making him seem to be inhumanly graceful. He danced lightly along, occasionally tossing the baton in the air and precisely catching it again. He was Reston Egal, ‘actually’ the head of a fair sized cult-cum-charitable organization in the C’tan.

Behind him came two ranks of elves in various colorful robes, holding banners of states and principalities, including the Menelmacari flag, the C’tani one, a blend of the two, the lozenge-shaped seal of Túrelio, and the circular one of Sirithil, as well as the prefecture of state, and several other groups. Most prominent of all was a derivation of the standard of Fingolfin, of whom Túrelio was the third oldest known living descendant.

Behind this group were an extensive band, among whose members could be seen various races besides elves – partly because Menelmacar tried to acquire talent regardless of source, and partly because they wanted to make an obscure point to the audience by the prevalence of humans in this particular group.

The same was true of the dancers; all female, but other than that, diverse between elves and humans of all ethnicities. They were definitely playing up to base desires. At least to a degree. This particular section seemed to go on forever, but it was merely prelude to the next section, with more ceremonial attendants of the prefecture, accompanied by hovering platforms loaded with sundry gifts for all present; indeed, these largely broke off in the market, both their attendants and the gifts themselves; for they were more for the benefit of the population as the parade passed than they were for the guests and dignitaries at the actual party.

After these were a group of sundry groups attached to the column, a few more of the red-robed cultists, a few groups of soldiers from one unit or another, several other prominent non-governmental agencies.

Lastly, a vast oliphaunt, a mûmak, with a multi-tiered howdah, brought up the rear of the procession, its body partly covered in a form of black and crimson silk drape to keep it comfortable in the northerly environment. Its huge ivory tusks shone brightly in the afternoon light, and though there seemed to be no visible means of controlling it, the animal seemed to be quite aware of what was expected of it, although they were, despite the tremendous size of their heads, not awesomely intelligent animals (though more intelligent than normal breeds of elephants, which are themselves nothing to sniff at) this one seemed to be a conscious participant in the parade. The magic of elves didn’t just work on horses.

Túrelio disembarked when the cavalcade arrived at the diplomatic area. This was a procedure accomplished by stepping from the howdah and drifting down with other dignitaries and a trio of Mornahossë guards on gravitic fields.

It was all completely whimsical. But then, elves were quite capable of that, as much as they were of pomp, circumstance and grandeur. A sense of fun was the secret to long life, after all.

----
OOC: I actually intended to post this yesterday. Didn't get the chance.

Horak lifts a brow at the Vaadian's commentary, although no irritation is visible on his face. "Well mister Al Azarad, it was the Vaadians who sent a diplomat to us, in point of fact; merely because we happen to be opening our Foreign Quarter does not obligate everyone to come knocking. Whether we're 'worthy of diplomatic attention' or not appears to have been answered by your very presence, since I doubt you'd be here if your country had zero interest in these proceedings."

He shrugs simply as they turn a corner, now within sight of the main ingress plaza. "If you do not have the time for such 'frivolities,' you are by no means obligated to attend; and may leave if the proceedings are not to your liking. Until then, please do not assume it is a crime of ours for your government not having requested any more specific talks during the past week."



"I am sure that the Minister of Foreign Affairs did not realize that it was his duty to follow up on your promised communications of additional and detailed information. Don't offer what you are unwilling to follow through on." Mr. Al Azarad responds with a smile.

"I am sure that I am not the only one wondering what you mean to hide with these festivities. I would prefer to see the rest of the city, if I were to see anything before any negotiations."

He turns looking again at the armed guards "You must understand it is rare to have armed soldiers at any form of open-house or festival in The Free Republic."

Like most Vaadians he laid what he was thinking bare, and like most Vaadians Arda was viewed with a mixture of suspicion and pity. Still he seems content to follow Mr. Horak's lead.

The first reaction to Becker’s approach was from the Guardsmen, who tried very hard not to visibly tense. Admittedly, given the huge number of weapons on display already by the locals, the two were firmly balanced on a knife edge. But they were superbly trained, and so while they monitored the Ardans’ approach, their rifles stayed pointed at the ground ten feet in front of the two Federation soldiers. Heavily enhanced and well trained, the Federation’s small arms were no burden for them to carry unslung for hours, not just the ten minutes or so they had been meandering up the pathways behind their charge.

This was hardly a situation to which the Guardsmen were thrilled about, and the obvious weapons and armor probably make that clear, given the majority of their body language was invisible behind the unmarked and unadorned black suits and helmets. After all, Jessica Smith was one of the only two blood relatives the President had, and the only one to have lost Guardsmen in the course of their duty. She also had a tendency, through no fault of her own, of getting into more trouble than your average unwatched puppy dog. So while it was considered a great compliment of one’s abilities to be assigned to her, the truth was that only the best can be assigned, because even more than the President, she was likely to need it.

And Simon Trent and Amanda Fisher were perfectly aware of this. Every night, they prayed to God that they will never have to use their skills in defense of their charge.

But clearly, this was unimportant, as Tobias Mulvehill clearly knew the man who was approaching.

The Eighth Ambassador met and pumped Becker’s hand, grinning. “Indeed, Colonel. It is good to see you again.” The rest of the Federation delegation moved up behind him, all smiles (except for the Guardsmen, for whom it was impossible to tell). “You know my wife Rachel and my daughter Judith, as well as Captain Dawes, I believe.”

The two women smiled and offered their hands to shake when mentioned, and the Marine, in the civilian formal mode, smiled incrementally, and replied, “Sir,” by way of greeting.

Tobias continued to speak, though, and introduced the remaining guest. “Colonel Erich Becker, it is my pleasure to introduce Lady Jessica, sister of the Imperial President and Special Representative of the Federation.” He turned to the young woman and indicated the military officer. “Lady Jessica, Colonel Becker. He’s the man responsible for rebuilding Ali’staan and designing the entire Foreign Quarter, as well as being something of an accomplished soldier.”

Flexing her knees slightly in a curtsy, Jessica offered her hand to the man to shake as she rose again. “It is an honor, Colonel, to be greeted by someone so knowledgeable about the surroundings.” She smiled, and it was clear that she was speaking on behalf of her brother now, despite that being Mulvehill’s official role. “This is your party, Colonel, celebrating the freedom the Five Kingdoms has earned. Perhaps the Federation was quicker to recognize it than many others, but we have done nothing deserving of praise. Aiding when and where one can is the responsibility of those having power. Doing one’s duty at best deserves public acknowledgement.” She smiled again, sure the soldier in Becker would catch her meaning.

Neither of the two diplomats mentioned that the fence was not precisely mended, nor was that the reason behind the Federation’s interest. Mending fences was admirable, yes, and a goal to be reached, but only in as much as it helped achieve the greater goal here.

And not that the Federation would allow the Five Kingdoms to face that burden on its own ever again.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, the guards were growing distracted at a sight in the distance, which neither of them could quite believe. Their communications were secure, and silent, over the Federation FTL TacNet, which gave them access to a huge store of information. “What the hell is that, Simon?”

“Mandy, I do believe that is an…” his voice trailed away for the briefest second while he consulted TacNet, “oliphant, specifically the subspecies native to Menelmacar.”

“Wait, they imported something already native to the Five Kingdoms to throw a parade at party that isn’t even theirs? Are they mental?” The disgust in her voice was hard to conceal.

“Probably.” Simon sent his partner an electronic shrug, since doing so visibly would appear odd to those they were with. “I went with Jess to Sirithil’s wedding to that C’tan bloke. That whole thing was overblown the same way. Flying castles are just wastes of resources, and so is importing that monster. I’m sure there are people who could’ve used relief supplies instead of a giant elephant as a token of friendship, given the hell this place has been through recently.”

Amanda fingered the selector on her battle rifle behind the cover of her gauntlet. “It screams Troy and Wooden Horse to me, really. Big fucking animal, right after a nominal peace is declared…”

A soft chuckle came back to her. “You’re loaded solid, right? Go for the eyes and see if you can crack the skull, if it becomes a problem. I’ll take its knees, then punch HE into the brain through your holes.”

“Aye sir,” was her response, all business for a second as she mapped out places to fire based on quick comparison again known anatomy files and marked them for immediate recall if needed, knowing the Guard Sergeant was doing the same. A glance at Becker told her all she needed to know about the safety of her charge. “You know, they certainly have some fancy uniforms here.”

“Sure do. Do you think the President would spring for us to get new ones? Black on black is nice, but so boring. It lacks shininess.”

“I doubt it, boss.” Amanda was having to hold back her chuckles now. “Well, the Ardan parade better not lack for shiny. They can’t let the elves show them up, certainly not at their own celebration. It would hardly inspire confidence in Althalon’s government by his people. There’d best be at least two oliphants, and tanks.”

Simon smiled inside his helmet, sending that emotion to his partner. “And planes. Everybody loves an airshow.”

"We wouldn't be able to move forward, without knowing where we stand," Sharlotte responded, before Karl interjected.

"History may have a strong following, but it's exactly that - history. And right now, we've got it by the reins. Karl Schuner, Federated Imperium of Kajali, Diplomatic Corps. This is my colleague, Sharlotte Alfonso..."

Karl extended a hand as Sharlotte gave a small curtsy. The choice of these two was something that had been subjected to extreme scrutiny, and in the end it was thought that the initial stages of diplomacy would likely fare far better with skilled diplomats who also happened to be a bit closer to human than Kajali. There was still a good deal of history to work through, after all, and while it may have seemed like some sort of odd reverse-racism, sending a diplomat that had been born and lived most of his life on Solanna would effectively cement the image of some arrogant, stuffy foreigner from a far away land who was out only to serve his own interests.

Karl was perhaps a little more direct, but he had a certain charm around him, though Sharlotte hadn't really seen it yet. She, on the other hand, was around the midway point, being herself an elf of sorts, and of a darker complexion that was the result of years of living in the Kajali capital. For all her years, she is still the more uncomfortable of the duo - She'd been around for the original hostilities, after all, and was intended to act something like a voice of reason for whenever Karl went too far off into the outfield.

The two were dressed formally, of course, though Karl chose a more modern three piece suit - sharp and snappy, and above all, wonderfully neutral, while Sharlotte wore something a little more traditional, consisting of a sheer white dress with a light blue sash of fabric worn over the shoulder, from where it covered one arm and continued down towards the ground, fluttering and ethereal, given the translucent nature of the fabric.

Still, despite everything, Sharlotte is still a little fidgety in her rather formal outfit - She'd never expected to personally set foot in the Five Kingdoms, much less be formally welcomed by the Warmarshal.

Lord Stratton, who was leading the Tartarian delegation, smiled a greeting to Kit and shook his head dismissively. “We have only arrived a few moments ago.” He gave himself a moment to look around at all the events happening around them. “It seems to be a very popular event.”

As they were speaking, the arrival of the Menelmacari delegation did not fail to catch Val’s attention. He was a little surprised at the arrival and could not help wondering if all elves were the same. It did seem a little in poor taste for the delegation to arrive as if it was their celebrations, but then he had heard some strange things about elves. Now was not the time to get into such a discussion.

With a touch of humour in his voice, Val turned to Kit. “I apologise for making our arrival so low key.” The idea of arriving in such a fashion had not, nor would it have even crossed their minds. “We are certainly looking forward to the events ahead. I even understand we have a little treat in the form of a concert.”

Oriana, who despite not being Val’s escort, was standing beside the member of the Imperial Family, while Debbie Cornick was a step behind, almost trying to stay out of the way as the more official aspects were carried out. The ambassador smiled brightly at the Foreign Minister.

“Good evening,” she greeted, warmly. Before taking a moment to introduce Lord Stratton’s aid and her own escort. “As Lord Stratton has said, we are eagerly anticipating the evening. Not only as a chance to witness the launch of the embassies but also to experience the Five Kingdoms first hand. Lord Althalon has definitely pushed the boat out for this celebration.”

Unlike her arrival her actual introduction to Atlahlon was short there where several reasons for this, the most obvious being it was hard to miss the distinct look of distaste on the Kingdomners faces earlier. That mixed with the few medals that adorned Althalon told the Farseer all she needed to know about what Althalon would expect, but there was also formal reasons, part of the announcement had been a statement of the Yvresse intention, hidden amongst the titles. The statement made it was not necessary to repeat it, nor in fact was it desirable. If the Ardans missed it, well that was their problem.

This time then the two masked guards simply stated her identity directly, along with that of her most important title, with perhaps more pointed force on it. ‘May we introduce the Asuridain Iyanna Arienal of Yvresse.’ As before Iyanna stepped forwards as her name was given. Her two guards where now taking up positions just behind her. In a way she was mildly impressed, or at least encouraged that Althalon could stand to look past the ancient runic protections that adorned her.

Nor did she extend her hand to have it kissed, this too was for multiple reasons, the first being that while Althalon was merely a Mon-keigh, he was greater status than the two that had met her, and so was not expected to show as much respect, that and the fact that before it had merely been part of an act, to allow the litany to take place. Instead she gave a short head bow, meant merely to acknowledge that here in Althalon’s nation he was treated with some respect, but never once hinting that he was above her in status. That would have been too far for a Mon-Keigh after all.

‘Once more may I state my pleasure at meeting the one responsible for the overthrow of the blight that this land once harboured, and my joy at being here, to see things that the honoured High Farseers of the past could merely dream of. What many dreamed you have achieved and this brings honour upon you. May your days now be peaceful ones, and the rage of the Bloody-Handed never returns to this land.’ Her tone and manners where carefully chosen, presenting the statement as a simple truth perhaps.

‘As they have introduced me, may I introduce my companions, of the Everguard of Yvresse, those who form the last line, may I introduce Jermayan and Idalia.’ As she spoke the two both formally bowed, deeper than Iyanna before them, but still a shallow bow.

I've been drinking to drown away my tears
And I'm sick of all the violence
And I'm sick of all the fears
But I'm moving down the road
True, I'm moving kind of slow
But I haven't heard a thing
So that's all that I can know

--OAR, Ran Away to the Top of the World Today


Becker smiles and bows his head to the delegation as they approach from behind the Eighth Ambassador, a moment later shaking Rachel and Judith's hands in turn. "Yes, yes," he answers eagerly. "I've seen all of you on the grounds a number of times, in fact, Captain Dawes--" he stops abruptly to pick up a glove that had fallen out of his pocket a moment earlier. "--I'm arranging for a meeting for local military leaders to discuss integrated security plans for our new complex. We'll be needing to run through some basic logistics concerns, now that the construction is all finished up."

As Jessica is introduced, Becker bows his head slightly and takes her hand, stooping down a moment later to kiss it. After Tobias finishes the introduction, he bows simply to the Eighth Ambassador and his family. "You honor me with your introduction!" he says with a laugh. "The Foreign Quarter was my responsibility, yes, but much of the rebuilding of Ali'Staan is still ongoing."

Becker pauses for a moment, and his eyes dart about as if examining the treetops. After a second or so it's apparent that he's listening to something in his earpiece. "You see, Iteration III and VI have historically been responsible for this sector, but the ravages of our recent war with the Freeks added quite a bit more to our workload," he explains, gesturing for the congregation to follow him as he turns back to the road. The Menelmacari procession is passing by.

Nodding in response to Jessica's commentary, his expression turns a bit more somber. "Yes, Arda has taken note of the Federation's aid and while we're happy to have received it, I can't help but express some regret that the pain of that conflict has been shared with the Federation." He purses his lips. "Ardans have an immense capacity for suffering, and there are those among us who insist the burden was ours alone to bear." He winks. "But I'm not one of 'em."

***

Ezr takes Karl's hand and bows his head slightly at Sharlotte. If the Kajali were expecting any kind of apprehension from the Five Kingdomers, they weren't getting it: the Ardans reserved such apprehension for their guests and Sergoyan did not appear to offer any kind of exception.

"Moving forward, as you put it, may prove difficult, especially in the eyes of our Near Haradrim citizenry." He folds his arms behind his back and starts walking towards the street. He leaves it to his Guard Captain to signal the Kajali to do the same. "Kajal is one of the few nations the Angsiyan regards as owing us a debt.

Sergoyan waves a hand at the gathering convocation. "Most of these countries are being approached with the assumption that they, historically, have been wronged consistently by us. The Kajali, on the other hand," he continues, coming to a stop near a special box of seats by the main road, "have perpetrated a crime against Ali'Staan the likes of which not even Morgoth perpetuated on his foes."

By now he has to raise his voice to be heard over the din of the Menelmacari procession. "Embassies--even under Morgoth's reign--were never to be meddled with under any circumstances." He shrugs. "Had your bombs fell on any other portion of the continent, our malcontent would likely not be manifest this strongly. We have never been able to understand your strike not only for the reason I just mentioned, but also because bombing foreign embassies did very little to disrupt our own operations: had the Kajali any interest in dealing a blow to Morgoth, there were literally hundreds of more productive targets." He frowns. "Such as it was, your incursion served only as a message of spite, and the Haradrim hate you for it."

***

Kit shakes Stratton's hand vigorously, and beams. "Don't worry about it," he offers with a laugh. "We don't really mind Menelmacar making a big deal out of this--in fact, we aim to do the same. It's good for us that they're making such a spectacle of their entry." He shrugs. "Besides, a friendly Five Kingdoms is probably something they never expected to see. I can understand a bit of excitement on their part. It's probably one of their greatest moments in international affairs."

"And yes," Kit laughs again, "there will be a concert of sorts after dinner has been served." he gestures vaguely to the northwest. "Reaven has set up a massive bandstand up there, and I admit even I'm a bit curious. As far as I know, they're planning a three or four hour set, so it'll really be something."

Kit bows to Oriana when she speaks. "Indeed he has, it would seem. I... never really thought I'd see anything like this, to be honest, but I'm glad it's happening. Arda has always been so... " the corners of his mouth tug downward. "...Harsh and austere. We're trying to affect that image. Hopefully this will be a good start for us."

***

Althalon bows as he receives Iyanna, and nods his head to her companions as they are introduced. "Unfortunately, I fear such 'rage of the Bloody-Handed' will reappear in due time," he answers anxiously. "While we don't know where he is or what he's doing, Morgoth's influence cannot be ignored, and I fear more... direct reprisals are certainly a major factor in his thinking."

The Angsiyan examines his watch, and a moment later drum cadences can be heard from several static positions around them, heralding the approach of Arda's elaborate military parade. He ushers Iyanna and her party back towards the street from which Rabani had just led them. The Deputy Foreign Minister, meanwhile, has disappeared entirely, taking his aide with him.

"Come," the Ardan sovereign offers. "We have less time than I thought. Although I don't imagine displays like this are the norm in your culture, it's nonetheless of some importance to us that it be witnessed by all." A corner of his mouth turns upward in a half smile. "Besides, it'll be pretty hard to ignore. Might as well get a good vantage."

***

The entirety of Iteration III and a CDC batallion was about to pass through the FMLO sector behind the Menelmacari delegation. The parade route had taken them already through portions of the surrounding city, and roadblocks indicate the procession would wheel southwest at the roundbout in front of the FMLO ingress. Drumlines amidst the crowds outside FMLO make their presence known at 7:25 as they fire up their cadences; each slightly different, in time with the approaching thud of soldiers' boots. The drums, besides serving to attract citizens and foreign officials to the street, also inundated the listener with the rolling crash of dozens of large percussion instruments. Their beats drove like thunder across the open plains of Near Harad, audible for miles.

The drums continue for about ten minutes before any sign of the procession can be seen until suddenly, three command-class Valkyrie* assault gravs break formation above Iteration III just over a ridge to the east and race ahead to the FMLO terrace; leaving bright trails of red, yellow, and blue in each ship's wake. They split off after passing overhead; one each going left or right and the other heads up; all of them wheeling back. Within a matter of seconds, they double back to the FMLO building, passing overhead again just before the first trumpet can be heard from the approaching Iteration column.

More Valkyries--moving more slowly; above Iteration III at a walking pace--appeared first, many bearing ceremonial flags. A prominence of white, red and black flags can be observed, although some vessels bear the traditional yellow and black standard of the Iteration Marines. A black roman numeral 'III' on a white shovelhead on the back right side designates the unit.

Visible next is the armored vanguard of Iteration III, consisting of just over two hundred Tengwar class battle tanks and about a hundred and fifty IFVs. All of these were gravitic, but travelled low to the ground almost as if on land. Being as they had to be kept a safe distance from the troops the IFVs end up as the first land-level vehicles observed. Periodically, the IFVs would launch colorful flares into the sky above them; usually when the Valkyries passed overhead again.

Wheel or tread mounted CEVs come into view next (most of these were still grounded for leverage purposes) immediately in front of the troops. The Ardan CEVs are generally very bulky and the majority were bearing their dozer blades. Their guns as well as those on the preceeding IFVs and Tengwars are all pointing straight forward and up. Space-wise, the six or so hundred CEVs took up the greatest amount of room and required the longest time to pass.

The marching army has no traditional military band; and the only sounds accompanying the processional are the drum cadences with varying marching chants shouted between them. Each column raises its voice in a slightly different tone, creating an ongoing choral effect on the audience as they pass. Clad in those ubiquitous yellow and black uniforms, every man's appearance is immaculate. Of particular note to the observers (and, indeed, even to idle military personnel in the crowd, as these were regarded as something of a precious item) are the men's boots: black, of course, with a steel plate bolted to the front; effectively placing the long-favored steel toe on the outside, rather than the more traditional, concealed method of toe protection. Polished meticulously, these plates were meant to catch the westering sun as they march toward it, creating a ground-level unison flashing effect with each stride.

Their rifles, carried on the left arm of the passing soldiers, appear rugged and simple in design. Every two or three rows a Sergeant bears a standard on his back, with varying runes designating his particular batallion and company. Viewed from a distance, the standards sway in unison with each other, and on some the sun catches slivers of gold or silver. More aircraft appear in the sky as the soldiers pass; the higher flying of them remaining in formation some thirty thousand feet above; while men in smaller craft just above the procession seemed to be stunt flying. Corkscrew maneuvers and loop-de-loops abound as the footsoldiers continue past the FMLO and its drum lines.

As the last few lines of Iteration men file past, one last mighty shout is offered by the host in time with the drums. Next in the parade are the Divisional field guns and self-proppelled artillery, which lumbers past quietly, periodically firing flares and fireworks either from their main guns or from special mortars mounted on their aft sections. Again, nearly all of these devices are gravitic, and appear to be the pride of Ardan production. Sleek and refined, the craft are impressive but functional. On a few models the vehicle commander can be seen poking out from the top hatch; the metal gold trim on their black jackets standing out against their otherwise camoflauged vehicles.

As these pass, the red and white uniforms of the local CDC garrison can be seen. The observing public might assume that the mûmakil preceding these men were meant to upstage the Noldor, especially considering that there were no less than eight of them. The truth of the matter, however, was that these men were all Haradrim, unlike the Iteration division that had just passed. CDC units were always composed of locals, and served as organic garrisons and police forces for their respective cities or districts. Mûmakil were certainly not an unfamiliar sight in Ali'Staani celebrations, as the CDC frequently used them for military parades like this one. These particular creatures bore pure white dye on the fronts of their faces, with patterns on their legs and sides in varying shades of red. Atop them sat command units of varying importance, the CDC Colonels and Majors barely visible in the elaborate carriages on the backs of their massive animal conveyances.

Following the Mûmaks, The CDC procession files past in a manner similar to the Iteration engineers, although their uniforms are simpler and their standards obviously much different. Chanting in the same choral method as the Iteration men (although this time in the Southron rather than Dunlending tounge), the CDC formations pass much more quickly, owing to their smaller size. Behind them, acting as the finale of the procession, travel six Krawl class heavy grav tanks: massive machines with frighteningly large guns and missile batteries on their aft. The craft had been painted especially for this event, and were white, black and red as opposed to the olive or camoflauge Iteration machines that had passed a few minutes before.

As the Krawls come into view, signalling the end of the procession, concealed fireworks mortars some distance from the sides of the street flare up in unison, bathing the entire roadway in a myriad of colors; mostly warm reds, yellows and oranges, but punctuated with blues and greens every so often. Flares arc forward dramatically from the Krawl main cannons, and the pyrotechnics display continues unabated until the tanks pass completely.

*OOC: Valyries are brick-shaped assault gravships designed for a multitude of roles. Usually ranging from 15-25 yards in length, most models are built to have several different weapon suites; some of which may be switched and readied even during combat. The command models are different, however, in that they are manned and have mostly static armaments. They appear to have been constructed primarily for battlefield observation rather than direct engagement.

ooc: may be a tad late, but hopefully not terribly.

Minister of Foreign affairs Bader Abu-Eid was trying rather hard to dig up any still existing records of any diplomatic interation between the Ba'ath National Command and the Five Kingdoms. After a considerable amount of time and one fired secretary, who would eventually return to work after the frustration had dissipated, the records were found. Gosh. Not a single transmission since that catastrophe in the Jovian System. Largenti-Ardan relations had been limited and rather poor throughout history and anyone still in office from the last time the two met still held grudges. It was never quite clear where this targeted resentment had come from, but at this point in time it was all but gone.


##From: The Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Winchia, Largent##
##To: Tiloka Kit, Five Kingdoms##

Minister Kit,

It is with great hopes that we request an embassy within Ali'Staan and the ability to reserve space on the FLMO terrace for a slightly tardy arrival to your summit.

We look forward to your response and the possiblity of a prosperous friendship.

The corner of Jessica’s lips quirked up when Becker kissed her hand. Being introduced as ‘Lady’ tended to cause that to happen. Her eyes were solemn, to the degree that a twenty-one year old can be, anyway, as she watched the Menelmacari procession. She recognized the importance of the event, even if, unknowingly, she agreed somewhat with her bodyguards. “Until evil and barbarism are removed from the world, everyone will always feel the suffering they cause, Colonel. The Federation is well aware of the cost of war.”

A glimmer of an ironic smile stole across her face. “Ardans are not the only ones who believe they should have faced this trial on their own. There are many in the Federation who cannot get past what the Five Kingdoms once represented, though they are slowly coming around. Others who believe that this is your justice for what this nation did, penance, if you will, for the things that were done by Morgoth’s command.”

She faced the man again, smiling pleasantly. “They are, fortunately, not representative of everyone. As my brother and myself know, one must always stand against the night, but never alone given any other choice. Evil is, after all, apt to stab you in the back.” Turning back to watch the approaching military forces, a grin crept onto her face, once more making her appear her age. “But this is a party. We should hardly be so solemn.”

The rest of the party moved to join them in their observance of the display, and Becker might notice something he could consider odd on Dawes’ left shoulder, this being the first time he has perhaps ever seen a Federation Dress Uniform. Instead of the normal three patches, there were five, including three of the horseshoe shaped patches that designated the unit to which the bearer belonged. A glance at the Marine captain’s public service record would explain that, if one knew the traditions of the Federation ground forces, of the Army and the Marines. In Full or Mess Dress uniforms, a soldier could wear any and all patches of units in which they had seen actual combat in. For a long time, it had been rare to see a person with more than two patches.

Unfortunately, that had changed, and not for the better, in recent years.

Mostly the party was silent, smiling happily at the parade.

* * * * *

“Christ,” muttered Simon into his closed channel with the other Guardsman, or, specifically, in this case, Guardswoman.

The reply he got back just confused him. “I didn’t see him in any of those tanks, Sarge. Where was he?”

Confusion prompted a glare to be communicated electronically to the female Guard Corporal. “They brought a whole damn herd of the things.” The ‘things’ were, of course, the oliphants of the Haradrim CDC unit.

“Look on the bright side. At least they also brought enough firepower to completely obliterate them if things get out of hand.”

“Right.” Reminding a bodyguard that his charge was now in range of (and right next to) an entire battalion’s worth of heavy armor and artillery was unlikely to improve his day.

But then, Amanda knew that.

“Honor?”

“Yes, Sergeant, I’m standing by. But you’re still being overly paranoid. If anything were to happen at this party, the Five Kingdoms would be finely sifted atomic matter before morning.”

“Still,” the head of Jessica’s security team persisted, “keep your engines hot until we’re back.”

“As always. Go enjoy the party. Forbidden Honor, out.”

Some...where?

Voices without substance.

The first: "Untrustworthy. No sense."

The second: "Agreement was already reached."

The third: "Continue as planned."

The first: "Agreement. Grudgingly."

Electronic Comms: ICEL-->Arda - usual satelite routing

"The Commonality bids... "Arda"... fair greetings. Our own resumption of interaction with the foreign community does not preclude contact with former enemies.

"Therefore we would be willing to provide an embassy device for fast-track communication with the Commonality Diplomatic Corps. We would be willing to dispatch a high-ranking ambassador and technical team to facilitate installation and tutorial on the use of such a device if necessary.

"What say you?"

~ bearing the seal of the Commonality Diplomatic Corps,
Signed: Ambassador Neurat

“It looks like this is only the beginning,” Oriana announced, as the sound of the approaching procession filled the air, causing all four of the Tartarians to turn towards the spectacle. “People will be taking about the new Arda for the foreseeable future, while watching to see what happens.”

The Ambassador then fell silent, along with the rest of her companions, other than making the odd comment at a passing animal or vehicle. They watched with interest as the sound and sight of the procession filled passed them, making it slightly difficult to talk during certain aspects. There was no doubt that they had never seen an Oliphant or a Mûmak before, so if nothing else, they would have something interesting to talk about in the morning.

Their attention was filled with the events before them, so much so that it reached a point when none of the Tartarians spoke, until finally the procession finally filed passed and disappeared from their view, the sound seeming to remain that much longer.

“That was very interesting,” Lord Stratton remarked, finally paying some attention to the others in the party. “They are very unusual animals you have in this part of the world. I do not believe I have ever seen a larger land animal than an elephant before today, at least not in the flesh.”

Oriana nodded her head in agreement. “It was a most entertaining start to the evening.” She smiled, as she too returned her full attention to those with her. “If this is the beginning, I can only assume that we are in for a treat during the rest of the evening.”

* * * * *

Kurt Johnson watched as the procession moved down the street, his eyes wide with wonder as the Menelmacari delegation arrived. It was not something that a Tartarian got to see every day. “They are much bigger than I thought,” he stated finally.

Cindy Harper turned from her discussion with Gareth and nodded her head at her other friend. “Yeah, those elephant things are pretty impressive, aren’t they? I never thought I would ever see one that big in my life.”

Kurt looked confused as he stared at Cindy. “Not the elephants, silly. The elves.”

The young woman looked back at the procession, a crease marring her forehead. “They are tall, sure, but not really that much taller than a man.”

If Kurt’s mouth could have dropped open any more, his jaw would be touching the floor. “What are you talking about? Elves are only about so high.” He indicated his hand a person half his size, levelled up from the floor. “They are tiny.”

“Huh?” Both Cindy and Gareth replied together at their friend’s gesture.

“Come on, we learned about them in school. They are tiny little things that help…oh, what’s his name?” Kurt paused for a moment in thought. “You know? Santa Claus.”

Cindy and Gareth burst out laughing, almost doubling over as they finally understood what Kurt was referring to. It was a moment before either of them could speak.

“No, silly,” Cindy said, a grin still playing at her lips as she tried to calm herself. “They are not the same thing at all. Elves are like people, only they live longer and have pointy ears.”

Gareth slapped his friend on the back. “Hey, don’t worry about it, anyone could make that mistake.” He looked at Cindy and both burst out laughing again, much to their companion’s annoyance.

Finally, the two managed to pull themselves together and the three friends returned their attention to the back of the procession as it slowly disappeared out of sight. Although the street was pretty full of people, it suddenly seemed so much emptier. They turned to each other and began a little chit chat, filling up the time until the second and larger procession began.

“Here we go again,” Gareth announced, as the noise level once more grew. Music, engines and the sound of a happy crowd filled their ears. “Seems like it’s the Home Team’s turn now.”

The friends fell silent for a moment, before Kurt turned to his companions. “What do you call people from the Five Kingdoms?”

Cindy and Gareth looked at each other and shrugged. “I don’t know, what do you call people from the Five Kingdoms,” they both asked in unison, expecting their friend to come back with a punchline.

“No, seriously, what are they called? Kingdomers? Fives?” Kurt asked again, looking a little frustrated.

Gareth laughed. “And what do you call them if there is more than one?” He paused for a moment and grinned. “A bunch of Fives.”

Cindy shook her head and let out a large sigh of aspiration. “They are Ardans.” She rolled her eyes up to heaven. “Can you two stop being idiots for a moment and let us enjoy today. It’s not everyday that we get to come here and see the beginning of something new.”

Deputy Foreign Minister Andan Rabani hustles down a short set of stairs towards the FMLO landing pad. Brushing an errant branch from his face, he lifts his other hand off the banister and waves to get Sunset ambassador Forsteri's attention. Muttering something over his shoulder to his following aide as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, he extends his hand maybe a little too soon; leaving it out for the last three or four steps as he finishes whatever he's saying to Berradi.

His head snaps back to Forsteri as soon as he's within handshake distance. Despite his earlier encounter with the eldar, he appears at ease, and smiles ever so slightly as he speaks. "Welcome! I'm glad you could make it!" he starts enthusiastically. "I am Deputy Foreign Minister Andan Rabani," he steps aside, "and this is my associate." He hikes his head towards the FMLO building. "Come, we're just about to open the terrace."

***


"The Commonality bids... "Arda"... fair greetings. Our own resumption of interaction with the foreign community does not preclude contact with former enemies.

"Therefore we would be willing to provide an embassy device for fast-track communication with the Commonality Diplomatic Corps. We would be willing to dispatch a high-ranking ambassador and technical team to facilitate installation and tutorial on the use of such a device if necessary.

What say you?"

OOC: We'll go ahead and say you get this through in time

The Ardan reply bears no seal, and is printed on thin paper. It is carried in a Foreign Office envelope with no adornments.

Ambassador Neurat:

We are warmed by your greetings, and thrilled that the Commonality is prepared to engage in foreign affairs once again. ICEL diplomats are welcome here and we hope to see a Commonality presence in Ali'Staan on the morrow. We look forward to the possibility of better relations; free as we are now from the taint of Morgoth.

Specific details concerning the acceptance of your 'device' can take place at our convocation, although I imagine its properties will need to be discussed with the Foreign Minister or Colonel Erich Becker beforehand.

(signed)

Serik Teteriuk

***

Becker looks to the ground briefly as Jessica replies, nodding in regretful concession of her point about feeling the suffering they caused. "Quite true. I myself never worked under Morgoth, but I remember his reign well and I know many who did harbor the misfortune of being held under his power."

The Dunlending Colonel hikes his chin towards the FMLO building and folds his hands behind his back. "But enough with the heavy stuff for now. Dinner's on and I think the Angsiyan wants to say a few words beforehand."

***

Kit checks his watch as the Krawl tanks swing out of sight to the southwest. "Right on time," he observes contentedly, nodding a moment later at the Tartarans' approval of the festivities. "We should head up onto the FMLO terrace, because I don't know how much longer I can last on an empty stomach!"

Briskly the Easterling minister indicates the FMLO ingress steps and heads towards it slowly. "Besides, I'm getting a fair bit burnt out by the recent workload." He winks. "Delegating only goes so far, you know? It's nice to have a ministry of my own but until recently I've only been able to speculate as to how busy that would make me. I suppose it's my comeuppance for drawing a salary running a foreign ministry for a government with no foreign policy!"

***

The FMLO ingress down which the delegates would all eventually be led was surrounded by thick brush on both sides, and tress hung overhead, blocking one's view of the terrace in front of them. Paper lanterns hang on wire suspended from the branches, and the air is filled with the quiet mirth of passing civilians, some of whom are examining the handful of (higher quality) shops that the Angsiyan was kind enough to allow within the wide ingress.

In front of the viewer at the end of the makeshift tunnel presided the duo of Onyx dragons; definately the dominant centerpiece of the 'scenic' route onto the FMLO grounds. The view was constructed carefully to restrict the observer's awareness of the FMLO terrace until they were actually upon it, at which point they would step into a large, flat stone basin of sorts with the dragons overhead, and a long trellis to the left.

At the terrace entranceway a main walkway led from the right up to the FMLO steps, halfway towards which a tributary branched off leading on to the terrace. The trellis led up onto a section of the terrace to form a canopy, under which sat three tables, fully set and adorned, with a handful of servants making final preparations.

OOC: The FMLO ingress walkway is decently long, so bear in mind reactions to things described in the last paragraph, or the dragons up close should take place towards the end of one's post. Semir and other latecomers may assume for brevity's sake that they managed to send a delegate on time, and you're free to react to anything that's taken place so far (yay fluid time) since the event just started anyway.

Chorial was pleased with the speed and grace his utterly alien corvette was docked and locked down. Shortly after this, he and his personal servant were bustled into the Foreign Quarter proper. The aged general glanced around. He had never been this close to anything Ardan, let alone see anything of their culture. As they approached the reception area, the sound of the parade and chatter could be heard. An Ardan watchman of some sort opened a door for the Traileric dignitary and he stepped out into the waning sunlight.

Chorial's brows rose a bit as he watched the last of the Mumaks passed by before the gathered host of foreign dignitarys of foreign lands and people. The general remained where he was as the last of the parade trumpeted by, then set off into the crowd to seek out Tiloka Kit. Alas, no sooner does he begin such a noble quest that Kit himself began to guide delegates of all sizes up the promenade to the terrace, upon which (presumably) Ardan cuisine awaited. Famished as he was, Chorial couldn't complain.

OOC: Cut short by time constraints. :/

Fluid Time...Largenti Embassy, Ali'Staan

It was rather unexpected of the Five Kingdoms, or any foreign nation for that matter, to allow the construction of an embassy of their own. While the opportunity was intriguing, the fact of the matter was that Foreign Minister Abu-Eid simply didn’t have the time to take on the job and instructed the Vice Minister to accept a pre-constructed Embassy.

Of course the inside of the embassy would require some work for the eventual Largentian Ambassador to feel more…at home. Those in power had a love for extravagance and it would be no great surprise when the ambassador asked for a section of the bottom floor to house a garden and when all his furniture would have to be imported. However, these were really minor things that could be put off until a later date seeing as the ambassador probably wouldn’t be spending all of his time in the embassy, not in this day and age.

The delegations arrived promptly on May 12th. The party consisted of the newly appointed Ambassador to the Five Kingdoms Ra’id al Mansur and his two assistants. Shortly they would be joined by Prince Mahtan Oronrá and his bodyguard, Niklas Kessler.

The prince was a tall slender man that could only be described as elegant and regal. Although possibly the more rebellious of the two princes, there were a few points where Mahtan would never break from tradition, the first and foremost being his appearance. Knowing that he was always on display he wore nothing but the finest of Largenian suits with leather shoes, a gold watch and it would take an act of god to get his hair to move from its perfectly situated position. His final accessory was Niklas. Slightly more modestly dressed, although always in formal attire, he matched the Prince’s height of six foot five; however, his biceps were measured twice as far around.

“Nice place,” grunted Niklas as the two approached the door to greet the rest of the party before the events began. Mahtan nodded in agreement but said nothing. The architecture was nice and the combination of gothic and eastern architecture would certainly suit either the predominantly German or Arab members of the Largentian government. However, having been given some time to make adjustments, the interior had been suited to Ra’id’s personal taste. Wall to wall Largentian rugs, the interior looked more like a small portion of an Ottoman palace than an embassy. Shaking his head slightly the prince found the ambassador in his office.

“Who would have though?” Mahtan offered. Knowing better than to respond, Ra’id kept his head down and continued working. “This is a place with a lot of history. Perhaps a lot of history people would like to forget.”

“Perhaps that would be for the better,” Ra’id finally decided to interject. “A friendly Arda is far more promising than one we choose to actively avoid.”

“Your probably right.”

More Fluid Time...Reception (with some portions taken from other posts to avoid inaccuracies…sorry)

It was only Mahtan and Ra’id who would be received. There was simply too much work left to be done at the embassy for any others, save Mahtan’s bodyguard to attend. As with all the other parties, the Largentian delegation was stopped one mile from the FMLO. Again, as with previous parties Althalon and Kit are standing next to their transport: a silver and copper gravitic litter, behind which four Vzj'Nakai marines stand at rigid attention.

The greetings and introductions are rather standard. The prince and the ambassador stand side by side with Niklas trailing only a few steps behind, saying nothing and apparently paying no attention to any of the dialogue being exchanged between the four diplomats at the moment. “It is an honor to be here,” Prince Mahtan offers with a bow. “Both my Mother, the Empress and my brother the Crown Prince regret that they were unable to attend and extend their deepest apologies, but look forward to greater interaction and cooperation between our two nations.”

The party is then told that a military processional has been prepared to lead them to the FMLO complex. Mahtan shoots a brief glance at the ambassador conveying his surprise and using the cyanomods they comment on how unusual this was while the processional was going on. It was definitely far beyond any other reception Mahtan had ever witnessed. However, once he considered the reputation the Five Kingdoms had attained over the years his surprise vanished as he realized that it probably was to be expected and become one of several such instances he would partake in before he left.

As they mount the knoll, a tight formation of 200 men in black and gold uniforms come into view below them, facing the road opposite Althalon's small vehicle. Becker raises his right hand, which strikes up the drumline immediate to the honor guard's left, between the party and the FLMO building. Following the gesture, Becker takes a salute from Althalon and plods off towards the Guard.

Slowly the sound of their drumming mounts into a pervasive rumble all around them, and the percussionists down the street join in one by one. Althalon turns to his guests once they reach his transports, and hooks a thumb under his chest strap as he invites them onto it with his free hand. As they are doing so, Mahtan shares his surprise at the ceremony and compliment Althalon on what he has witnessed thus far.

The rest of the ride is spent discussing each nation’s history and customs as each party attempts to get a sense of the cultural differences. The construction of the new Foreign Quarter is one of the several topics covered. What felt like only moments later the procession came to an end as they had arrived at their destination

The entire party sways forward a bit as the transport stops, having reached its location immediately in front of the FMLO steps. Mahtan beams, and extends his hand to Althalon. "It was a pleasure to talk, if only briefly," he asserts.

Fluid Time (last time)...Largenti Embassy, Ali'Staan

While the five who would be attending the “Main Event!” got ready, the rest of the embassy was still swarming with activity as various miscellaneous items from Largent were unpacked and placed in their appropriate niche. Having run through drills similar to this before, Ra’id had dressed himself almost three hours before Mahtan and immediately took up to job of working his way through the constant flow of workers to ensure that all traffic stayed far away from the Prince’s chambers. Certain areas of the embassy were temporarily declared “no talking zones.” To an outsider this practice may seem absurd but to anyone that knows the Prince it was a necessity. On the borderline of neurotic, the Prince would easily take two hours to perfect his appearance for this function. With a system of mirrors to check himself from all angles he would ensure that not one piece of fabric or a single hair was out of place.

Checking his watch with a murmured expletory, the Ambassador knocked on the Prince’s door and finally decided to just open it after no response came. He found the prince fogging up a priceless mirror. His face was only inches from it, while he ran a comb through each eyebrow, holding scissors in the other hand. After several moments the Prince finally took notice of Ra’id and motioned for him to follow. “How do I look?” The prince inquired. Ra’id knew it was pointless to even bother answering and simply offered to fetch both Niklas and his two assistants.

The Prince mumbled some response and and told him to fetch him in the gardens downstairs when they were ready to leave. Acknowledging the request Ra’id left the price to find the others.


Downstairs, Ra’id’s two assistants, Jean and Ellie checked their reflections one last time to make sure everything was in order. Jean wore his usual black suit and Ellie her new blue dress that she was simply ecstatic to be able to wear after an agonizing six hours of not being able to.

There was a knock on the door as Niklas told them that it was time to go. “Are you ready for a party Niklas?” Jean offered with a smile, his excitement showing through slightly more than he would have liked.

“No.”

“Oh, your no fun.” Ellie chimed in. “You take your job too seriously. Let someone kill the Prince, then maybe you can live.” Niklas pivoted and gave Ellie a look that told her it would be a poor decision to ever make a joke like that again. Receiving the message loud and clear, Ellie patted him on the back and led the other two down to the first floor where Ra’id and Mahtan were waiting.

FLMO Ingress/ Terrace

The five Largentians stopped momentarily at the beginning of the ingress and took in the scene. The thick brush and overhanging branches formed a sort of a tunnel light by hanging lanterns. Mahtan smiled and gave Ra’id a slight nod of approval. Seconds later Tiloka Kit began leading the delegates down the ingress. The lanterns, in Mahtan’s opinion anyway, cast an interesting light, giving the makeshift tunnel an almost intimate, perhaps surreal feel to it. Glancing back he found Jean had much the same sentiment as he didn’t even bother being subtle about appreciating how the light made Ellie look in her new dress.

Bringing his attention back he motioned forward to Ra’id who glanced forward trying to see what had the Prince so exited. Finally he saw them. Magnificent creatures really. Unlike anything Largent had to offer. A pair of Onyx dragons stood at the end of the ingress. Neither of the men had ever seen a dragon before, let alone two!

So mesmerized by the creatures that they were upon the terrace before they realized it. Orienting themselves Mahtan glanced back at the other three and told them to enjoy themselves much to the protest of Niklas, but Mahtan wouldn’t hear it, he simply told him that he had work to do and that Niklas deserved some measure of fun, and that was that.

Turning to Ra’id he gave a slight sigh. “Very well, I believe a thanks to our hosts is in order. Lets go find them, shall we.” With that the two set across the terrace to find either Kit or Althalon.

Jessica smiled at Becker, acknowledging the change of subject. Her comments had not been meant to imply any sort of fault on Arda, truly… that would have been undiplomatic, and she was in the top five percent of her class at Camp Fozzie. But she caught Becker’s point as it was.

She shook her head ruefully, or would have, if it would not have confused her host. Instead, she just felt the feeling, and berated herself for woolgathering. “Of course. Food is what we’re all about.” As athletically built as she was, that was probably unlikely, but it was a nice thing to say. “I look forward to sampling some of the Five Kingdoms’ traditional meals.” That was, on the other hand, one of the things she most enjoyed about being a diplomat.

Not food, exactly, but different food. “Hopefully I might meet the Angsiyan after dinner. My brother wished me to convey a personal message to him.”

As she talked, they walked, passing the tall shrubberies that lined the path. Rachel and Judith, accompanied by Captain Dawes, rather lagged behind, taking no small amount of interest in those shops deemed good enough to inhabit this obvious area of both greater security and quality. Judith, in particular, had been granted a portion of her allowance in the Ardan currency, which was probably still recovering from the massive amount of warfare, so she felt like she ought to spend some it.

After all, hoarded money does nothing for the economy.

In the middle of the now rather strung out group was Mulvehill, trying to get his wife and daughter to keep up, regretting that he had given them each the equivalent of fifty Federation Credits to spend, though he was wondering where on their persons they were secreting it, given neither was carrying bags.

The two Presidential Guardsmen were calmly wandering after Becker and Jessica, near the front of the group, and undoubted Becker’s associates were somewhere spread throughout the group. But the Guardsmen, though they basically trusted that the Ardans would never do anything blatant to Jessica, were very uncomfortable on the inside. The high bushes lining the walkway could have been hiding a gunman every five feet or so, easily, and the fact that they were being funneled through a smaller area meant that the people were getting closer together.

Naturally, they tightened up with their charge.

As they approached the entrance, the black dragon statues became far more impressive, gleaming in the evening light. “Wow,” Jessica whispered, craning her neck back to look up at the towering beasts. Her being impressed was far less of a concern to her bodyguards… if the bushes had been bad, these were worse. Commanding line of sight, solid enough to stop counter-sniper fire (briefly), and with a multitude of places to hide, the curved and winged forms were something of a nightmare.

Stop it, Simon, the head guard told himself. Nothing’s going to happen. Absolutely nothing. And we’ll go home tomorrow.

To suggest that Ambassador Neurat was pleased to be where he was would, indeed, have been such a massive overstatement that if the universe were prone to such oddities, it would collapse under the gravity of sheer error.

Fortunately, though weird, the universe isn't that kind of weird. Regardless, the highest ranking human diplomat of the Commonality tried to keep a fake smile plastered on his face at all times, engaging in conversation only where absolutely necessary... which was pretty much not at all, so far. Iluvauromeni diplomats had been to gatherings in the past and said nothing whatsoever; then again they'd also threatened to bomb people into oblivion. So it was probably preferable to everyone that he was silent.

At least, he hoped that why it was so easy to remain thus.

The device he carried in his pocket wasn't very remarkable, except for the fact that it bore specific access codes that would only work within a certain area. The device thus allowed direct access to the Diplomatic Corps, the modern Iluvauromeni equivalent of bothering to establish an embassy. It had long ago been decided - as soon as the technology for distance diplomacy effectively arrived - that it was just plain stupid to build embassies. They were targets for civilian annoyance; they held diplomats that were probably not necessarily very highly trained; they were, in short, big blundering buildings hell bent on causing problems. You could even expell the diplomats that worked within, claiming they were spies, and using it as leverage...

Which was why embassies were totally welcome in the Foreign Quarter of Nenya, but the Iluvauromeni had not a single embassy on Earth, anywhere, whatsoever.

This, in turn, backed by the rise of ASIs, lead to about three-quarters of all minor diplomatic activity being carried out by non-organics. They knew what policy was, and if anything more important was needed, they passed their duties up the chain of command. Neurat was one of the few aware that just because something was signed by a diplomat, didn't mean that diplomat actually ever had anything to do with it. Dozens of missives had been sent under the name of Ambassador Nejure, but many of them he'd only approved, rather than been actively involved in the writing thereof. Since video imagery could be generated in real-time by the Diplomatic Corps vast suite of computer power, it made everything so much easier - and made it seem as if a mere fifty-five senior and junior ambassadors did a vast chunk of work.

Neurat was rather pleased it was all a big fabrication. He'd hate to actually have to work more than five hours a week.

It had been deemed "severely unwise" to send anything but a human. Nenyar would "spill" their disdain and anger over onto anyone nearby in such an environment as this...place. Even Neurat had dreamed of Commonality assets pounding the very soil into glass...

Dreamed gladly.

Sadly, it was not to be. There would be no revenge, and he knew this in his heart. So there was just the small matter of accepting it. Hopefully - a small part of him acknowledged - this visit would be a small part of the healing process. With it's primary enemy no longer a threat, the Commonality could focus on far more important things. And just be. There were plenty who had expected the forces of the Dark Lord to come falling, raving and raging, upon them at any time, again. That it hadn't happened was cause for widespread relief.

Neurat is not alone; he rates no less than two Imperial Palace Guards disguised as Commonality Peacekeepers.

He ignores the views, the sights, etc, knowing he can review them later anyway, thanks to the small camera mounted on his crisp white suit shoulder.

Instead, as he walks past the great dragons, he does his best to retain a neutral smile. The helmet-wearing and thus faceless, white-armoured bodyguards without immediately apparent weapons (and in fact, any weapons at all) on either side of him do not have the same problem. They, for their part, try not to think about the suicide implants at the base of their skulls. Both Nenya, there can be no chance today of a genetic profile falling into...the wrong hands.

[OOC: Somewhat shorter than it could have been, but I don't like retroactive stuff too much, so I'll stick with Neurat having been quiet and unobtrusive up until the present point in the thread.]

All four of the Tartarians reacted favourably to the idea of heading on towards the FMLO. None of them had had a long day, but they were all looking forward to the events ahead, and dinner was high on their lists of things to do, especially as none of them had eaten, having saved their appetites for the meal ahead.

“People always think politics is sitting behind a desk, signing a few bits of paper and letting another do all the work,” Lord Stratton observed, walking beside Kit. Despite her not being his escort, Oriana was walking alongside him, nodding her head in agreement. “Once you have been doing the job for a while, I am sure you will barely notice how much time you spend doing it.”

Of course, work tended to eat into life, and Lord Stratton was well aware how much spare time could be eaten up with events. The trip to The Five Kingdoms, though welcomed, did mean that he had to postpone some work that he had planned back in Tartarus, not to mention the odd game of polo.

As they walked along the long walkway towards the FMLO, the Tartarians took the opportunity to admire the décor. Their process was halted several times as one by one they stopped at points of interest, before pulling themselves away and moving further on.

Their chatter was small and related mostly to the sights they saw around them, all of their comments were favourable. A good diplomat never insulted the hosts if they could help it. Not that any of the Tartarian party found anything that they disliked, other than perhaps the little things that did not always meet everyone’s tastes.

The dragons at the end of the tunnel the four looked appreciatively at the onyx dragons that towered over them. The party stopped again for a moment then continued on to the terrace, finally getting their first view of their first stop of the evening.

“That is a very impressive entrance,” Oriana remarked to Kit, as her gaze began to take in the scene before her. “Those dragons are very breathtaking and a perfect end to the walk.” She smiled, as she looked over at the tables and the staff finishing the final preparations. “Are we dining on a traditional menu?” She asked, finally turning back to their host.

* * * * *

“So, what do you two want to do first?” Cindy asked, as the procession disappeared, not only out of sight but earshot as well. “We can go look at the shops or wander around or anything really.”

Her two companions looked at each other and grinned, before speaking in unison. “Let’s find some beer.”

Raising her eyebrows, Cindy cast an evil eye over Kurt and Gareth, causing them both to stop abruptly, before they both looked at each other again and then burst out laughing.

“Oh, come on, Cindy,” Gareth began, “surely you didn’t think we came here for the scenery, did you?” He paused for a moment, looking at the expression on her face. “You did, didn’t you?”

Cindy huffed. “Of course not. I wouldn’t expect two oafs like you to understand anything about culture.” She flicked her eyes between her two friends. “You find a beer and I’ll meet you there later.” Taking a step, she moved away from her companions, but got no where before she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“You think you are going off on your own,” Gareth asked, as his hand slipped from Cindy’s shoulder, as she turned to face him. “Like we’d let you wander around here on your own. There are strange tales of bad things in Arda.”

The young woman looked at Gareth, a hint of surprise in her eyes. “And what bad things are those?” She could not wait to hear what tales he had been reading. Most parents told stories of bad places to their children, and Arda had been the source of a few of them.

“There are orcs and monsters,” Gareth said, his voice changing as if he was telling some horrid tale. “Monsters that come out of the ground and kill you with just one look. Huge beasts that steal your soul before flaying you alive, then they turned you into the undead before making you live the rest of eternity regretting ever laying eyes on them.”

“Really?” Kurt asked, suddenly not looking too happy at being in the middle of such a bad place.

Cindy once more rolled her eyes towards heaven. “Don’t be silly, Kurt,” she said, before slapping Gareth on the arm. “Stop telling stupid stories. We aren’t children, you know.”

“So they aren’t real?” Kurt sounded a little more at ease.

“Of course, they are,” replied Gareth.

“Of course, they aren’t,” Cindy answered at the exact same time.

Kurt flicked his eyes between his two friends. “In that case, Gareth,” he said, his lips lifting up into a grin. “We’d best go with Cindy to the shops. We wouldn’t want that on our conscience, would we?”

Cindy laughed, as she looked at the expression of defeat on Gareth’s face.

“Yeah, I guess.” Gareth let out a large sigh. “We’ll be more in need of a few beers once we are finished.”

The three looked about them, then moved down the street, Cindy leading the way.

"I can see that we'll be working together for quite a while, then." Karl responds, while Sharlotte looks nearly embarrassed at the Menelmacari procession.

"Well, they've certainly spared no expense..." She says, before turning her attention back to their immediate host.

"I do not wish to appear ingracious, however, those past events were driven by, if anything, the politics of the time, and are just as perplexing to those more tactically minded... Imperatrix Keral needed a show of force, something to attempt to convince her subjects that Kajal would continue forward, though she was particularly hateful about it.

Such a crime, as you put it, has not caused her any undue emotional suffering, unsurprisingly. Of all the nations present, I would hazard that Kajal is perhaps still one of the most hostile."

Sharlotte laughed, a little.

"But then, I suppose you've seen at least portions of her letter, whereupon she ingratiates herself to your own government... Such are politics, I'm afraid, and until she's out of the way, our progress will likely be slow."

With that, they eventually drift towards the FMLO, as directed, and for all of Sharlotte's apparent sabotage of her own assignment, there's a feeling that, just perhaps, this assignment would require some frank words at the start, at least for a short while, before things would really warm to a point where any real progress could be made. Certain people had long memories, on both sides, after all.

Somewhat forgotten under a pile of domestic matters that reached almost the roof itself, the matter of an embassy within Ali'Staan had finally reached the surface some amount of time after the initial invitation had been sent to the Austar Union's Department of Foriegn Affairs and Trade. Michael Thatcherson, it's most senior director, had decided to reply to it personally... 'it' being a matter of prime importance. Arda as an organization had been well known to be an influencial one in the past, and having reinvented itself, may prove to be useful to establish something there for some unknown time in the future.

< Open Standard Diplomatic Communique >
-< Destination: Foreign Minister Tiloka Kit, the Five Kingdoms of Arda >--
-< Source: Foriegn Minister Michael Thatcherson, the Unione of Capitalizt States of Austar Union >-
-< Subject: Establishing an Embassy in Ali'Staan >-

Minister Tiloka Kit,

I would like to thank you for your invitation to establish an Austarian consulate within the Embassy Grounds of Ali'Staan, and although later than most, would like to enquire if this is at all still valid.

If possible, I would like the opportunity to exchange ambassadors with your government, complete with the following accordance [Attachment: 001a]. These are of course, our most standard level of protocol concerning basic security of a compound and its staff, along with a means of escape should the political climate of a nation become less than desirable for either your government or mine.

Thank you again for the invitation, and I do hope that the pursuit for a new direction goes well for yourself and Arda as a whole. I look forward to further contact between our governments and what opportunities that may offer us both.

Signed,

Michael Thatcherson
The Unione of Capitalizt States of Austar Union
< Close Communique >

ooc: Hope I read things right. I can edit. Can always jump forward as well. Your call.

IC:

When Ipshi Hagwonak began to carve his legacy as one of Vrak’s most respected and talented diplomats throughout the Diplomatic Corps, it began when he honed his tusks, so to speak, long ago when Vrak held one of the most famous World Courts. It was then that he met with a feared Count from Kalessin and negotiated with that…being…on its trespass into Vrakian territory. Since then, he led the Vrakian delegation in the Nekoa Bay talks and was selected to represent his state along with other Klatchians to journey to Menelmacar aboard, of all things, a fully armed Lords of War gravship.

Times have changed though. Then, Vrak was susceptible to fall into the “good” camp of the Triumvirate of Yut and similarily aligned believing states. However, circumstances and other outside influences had Vrak adopt a more isolationist stance while remaining true to the fellow Klatchian states that occupy one of the oddest and, when provoked, decidedly aggressive regions in the fractural universe. With the ever-growing influence of the Order of Bok, the state appears more willing to consider and even seek out nations and alliances considered by others to be “bad”. The pragmatic Vrakians would, however, see it as business and, if nothing else, an opportunity.

So, when the Five Kingdoms opened their doors, the Ministry of Rites, now the arm of the government tasked with diplomatic duty, decided to act. Pulling Ipshi out of retirement was a difficult undertaking, but when promised that his nephews Orith and Ujuy, each accomplished diplomats in their own right, would accompany him, he accepted. After all, he likely thought that there would be a chance to see someone from Kalessin.

A full entourage was put together, along with a towering Inuit bodyguard for each walrus. Necessary communiqués were exchanged, informing the Five Kingdoms of their arrival.

====

Some modifications were required of the embassy itself, just purely to accommodate the bulk of a typical 1200 kilogram plus walrus. Hallways were widened and a central pool was installed since the walruses were semi-aquatic in nature. Otherwise, nothing else would change. Certainly when the first delegation arrived from Vrak Prime it would not quite be completed, but certainly functional. Besides, the Ambassador to the Five Kingdoms, which had yet to be named would just have to wait for the artwork to arrive. The first entourage would, in fact, reside at the embassy until that individual was chosen for the first delegation would also report back to the Ministry and offer input in the selection process of what characteristics would be best suited for this new assignment.

====

The reception displayed by the Honour Guard was impressive and even made Ipshi nod his head in approval of the precision marching displayed, for he traveled to several lands and has witness many such displays. But this, well, this was delving into the very lands of where the infamous bogeyman once held sway.

Ipshi, Orith, and Ujuy bowed low to Althalon and the other Five Kingdom dignitaries and, after exchanging initial greetings, one of the muscle-bound Inuit stepped forward. He barked in the harsh, Vrakian speech and the aides carrying ornate Klatchian Oak boxes (duly scanned previously by the hosts) opened the lids. For the rest of the high ranking staff a dagger carved from the ivory of a northern mammoth. Each dagger rested on some kind of cushiony material, likely Giant Klatchian sponge woven with silk. Intricate designs could be detected on each dagger and, if one was very observant, some of the designs would match the tattoos on the hands of the Inuit bodyguards.

For Althalon, a larger box was brought forward. Inside, an oddly curved sword made from the beak of a Swangdoodle. If asked, and likely the name would cause some curiousity, a swangdoodle is a large canivourous bird that is quite rare and dwells in the Kardi highlands. They tend to feed on monkeys, farmstock, and the orange Oompa Loompas that dwell in the region. Like the daggers, this too has intricate designs inscribed upon its length.

Ipshi raised his great head and waited for the reaction of the Five Kingdoms.

Transmission from the Kalessin Ministry of Truth to Foreign Minister Tiloka Kit

"What a lovely idea! Some of our younger nobles have been positively blinking at the chance to experience so many quaint young-kingdomer customs all in one place - why they aren't content with good, old-fashioned crystals and dreams I'll never understand - apparently authentic experience has become a bit of a fad of late in the palace - very odd in my opinion, but you know how the young are! I believe that young Count Elphen has expressed an interest in applying the latest architectural fashions to small spaces. A very charming fellow he is, too - even if he can be a bit of an insolent scamp at times."

- Count Jijulal al Kboisth
c/o Doctor Verity, Minitru