NationStates Jolt Archive

The lone figure of a Pygmy Runner ran up the steps of the Temple Palace. He took the steps two at a time to get up the 132 steps to the entrance of the Great Exalted Pygmy Lord's Throne Room.

The Runner reached the top and paused momentarily, allowing some humid air back into his lungs. Before the doors were two large guards, each standing almost 4 and a half feet tall. They cross there spears.

"I must... see... the... Lord..." The Runner panted.

"Why should you?" asked a Guard.

"Outsiders."

The Guards stiffened, then cleared the way. The Runner nodded and sprinted up to the Exalted Lords throne.

He reached it and prostrated himself at his Lord's feet.

"Great Exalted One, I bring-" he began.

"Word of Outsiders?" the Lord spoke, his voice commanding yet kindly. The Runner couldn't understand how the Lord knew why he was there.

"Yes."

"It seems the day has come."

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Five years before, a lone explorer had reached the hidden kingdom of the Pygmies. He brought wonderous technologies with him, 6 of which remained as godly artefacts.

At that time the Pygmies had been fighting amongst themselves; but the explorer told them that they would do better to join together and they could further their civilisation as part of a union.

The explorer left, he was fascinated by the Pygmies and promised to return. The thing that interested him the most, was the fact they spoke perfect English.

The explorer's ship sunk in a storm, and ever since the Pygmies have been waiting.
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OOC: Could someone RP the new explorers? The era is early 21st century, others can come as the news of the Pygmies spread.

The Pygmies are quite backward in terms of technology, having mastered no gunpowder and only limited metallurgy (brass, gold, copper etc.); but their soicety is quite advanced. The Pygmy's domain is jungle islands, like Indonesia. Pygmies are 4 ft tall.

bump

--The Capitol Of The Holy Empire Of Christopher Thompson, inside The Mansion (five days ago)--
"Well, I promised them that I would return, Fuehrer." Spoke a short, dark-haired man named Gordon Glavich. Gordon Glavich was most notebly the greatest man to ever captain a submarine, and today was no exeption. On a long expedition, his longe-range communications had gone out in a storm. He returned with knowlege of a new people; perhaps a new spicies.
"I see," Said Fuehrer Alucard, in a deep, hidden voice that was devoid of emotion. He was a tall man, 6'4" with jet black hair that seemed to rob light its self from the room. He was strong despite his lanky appearance, and he was also the youngest of all the Feuhrers. He scanned the room. The regular ofiice; with its' preistine white walls, covered in bookshelves, lavishly made chairs and mohagany desks sat upon the beautifully patterened red and blue carpet. A strong wind blew the leaves outside, past the large, crystal clear bay windows to reveal the garden in front that was maintained by a dozen or so gardeners at the moment. The Fuehrer sighed, and gave the order, "Then go. Take a full Division with you. Admiral Alexi Nagase will be the commander."
"A full division, sir?!"
"Yes, all twenty Ticonderogas, two Nimitz Carriers, two AOE-6 Suply Ships, ten Los Angelos and ten Seawolf subs. Establish relations and keep in contact with me."
"Y-yessir!" The Captain gleemed with pride as he left the building to prep the great docks. On the way, all he could think about was the number of allies he'd have this time.
"Do you think this is wise?" Spoke an Irish man from the shadows. He stepped forth, to reveal his true figure. He was even taller, 6'6". Alucard despised that fact. He had blonde hair, glasses, and was adorned in black priest-robe like clothes. It was the High Admiral.
"Of that, I do not know. But we must try to befriend them; they must be of some use to us."
--Today, off the shores of the strange nation--
24 (visible) ships, painted pitch-black with white outlined bodies moved up the coast to what seemed a large port city...for the roman empire. Vast wooden docks loomed out to Port as the 20 subs surfaced beside them. The armada stopped with barely 200 feet of space to spare from crashing into the wooden docks and massacreing all the people on them. It seemed that the whole city ceased function at the sight of the strange creatures that has moved up so fast, and the ones' that broke the surface. Then a pair of Seahawks (I'm post modern, but I hope that that won't be a prob.) took off and moved toward a fitting landing zone in the city. In it's bays were a standard squad of marines, and one more man. The Seawolf Captain. They landed near a market place, and the 21 people jumped out. Then they took-off, moving back to their home. "Here we go..." said Captain Glavich.

Some might have said it was a little excessive to see such a large fleet, for such a technologically backward nation. The Exalted Pygmy Lord's advisors had taken it as a compliment that the Explorer's allies had decided that they needed such a large fleet.

They were bumbling old fools though, helpful for running a nation, but not for negotiations. The Exalted Lord had had plenty of experience of that, keeping the five Nations from attacking each other.

The Lord stood up from his throne, from which he had been recieving reports from his Scouts and Runners ever since the Explorer's fleet had arrived. Now he walked slowly and majestically out to the top of his temple, into the blinding sunlight, ready to receive the Explorer's leader.

The men, who towered over the native people, moved up to what they had been informed by locales as their leader's home, temple or whatever it was. In any case, they soon arrived. The 20 Marines (who looked like some strange bulky creatures to the locals, as they were almost completely covered in armor, camo and with a helmet that is enclosed) and the Captain moved up to the temple gates, where they were greeted by an equal number of truly greusome looking short men. Then, as if the Marines knew telepathy, they all lowered their weapons and removed their helmets, to reveal their true identities. They were like the man standing in a strange white uniform, who, bowed to the guards and spoke, as eloquently as possible, "Lay down your weapons, good men. I come baring gifts of peace, and pacts of friendship. We wish to see your most benevolant leader, in order to confer with him." The Captain then stood up, and glanced at the stairs...there had to be over 100... At least he could take three at a time. The Marine Leader saw the look and grinned...sissy sailor, he thought.

The ceremonial guard stood down, preparing to leave their places upon the stairs. Had the Explorers tried anything, there were numerous Scouts and Assassins hiding in the shadows, they did not have guns, but they could nail a wasp from fifty feet, and after that it wasn't the arrow that did the killing, frog poison covered each obsidian blade. The fully enclosed helmets could have been a threat, but they could be ripped off. Anyway such full-covering gear would have them stifling inside their suits within minutes.

The Exalted Pygmy Lord stood at the top of the stone Temple Palace. He spoke, opening his arms wide.

"Welcome, Explorers, we have been waiting." he said in perfect English.

The Marines fitted their helmets back on, in shock at the perfect english. They turned on their encrypted COM link and began to discuss it.
"What they hell?"
"I don't know how either...Just shut-up and let the Captain do the talking."
"Alright."
The Captain bowed before the Lord of the Pygmy's, then stood fast and relayed the information he had memorized. "We have been sent as a first contact unit from The Holy Empire of Christopher Thompson. The Fuehrer Alucard wishes to the best for our talks, and prays for our sucess now and in the future as allies. We would like to establish pacts, and perhaps knowlege as well... Here, take this." The Captain pulled the pistol from his holster, flipped it up in the air expertly and caught it, butt-end away from him. He held it out. Everyone peered at it for a moment; which seemed like an eternity, and then explained what it was. "It is a weapon. It's called a gun; more specifically, a pistol. It fires metal projectiles at high speeds and long distances to cause lethal damage. As lethal as your spears, arrows, and swords are; sharp and poisoned, they would not have a one in a million shot at defeating a man with this by comparison. Here, try it."
(flow with this part, you'll have to rp mr explaining it to u)

Watching the Captain's eyes widen with surprise amused the Pygmy Lord, and he curious as to the new weapon, and he took it from the Captain, as he explained how it worked. The Pygmy Lord sent for some fruit, and a stool. The Pymgy Lord examined the weapon as the target was set up.

He carefully took aim. "Careful, it'll make a noise." the Captain warned. The Lord fired, the weapon bucking in his hands, and he almost dropped it. The fruit, sat in the sun untouched, as the sound of the pistol ricocheted around the hills.

The Lord beckoned to another Pygmy who'd been standing by, his eyes watching insrutiably.

"Here, Achcauhtli, you have a go."

"Thank you Exalted One." he replied, as he took up the weapon. This Pygmy was leaner, and more muscular, with tattoos and scars covering his tanned skin.

He took up aim, frowning. Then fired. He missed, and his brow furrowed even more.

"Is this a joke?" asked Achcauhtli, turning to the Captain.

The Captain put his hands on his forehead and audibly sighed. "Good Soldier, let me see the weapon." The pygmy soldier handed it back to him, a look of mock anger from being duped in his eyes. The Captain took the gun, aimed it and closed one eye. He breathed in, held his breath, and squeezed the trigger. *BAM*
The fruit shattered and liquified instantly, pieces scattered for five feet around it.
The crowd around looked perplexed. How could something move so fast, and why could only he do it?
"It is not as easily handled as a spear or bow; it takes practice to become proficient with such a weapon. The men behind me are far better than I am, let them show you what they can do."
The 'men' behind him hardly looked like men, though. They were slightly taller, much stronger looking and covered in thick armor as well as bullet proof armor all around. To these people, they barely resembled humans.
He turned, and motioned the sniper, Fredrick Gardenski, forward. "This weapon," the soldier hefted the mighty sniper rifle upward for all to see, "can within a matter inches, strike a target over a mile away."
The mouths of the guards nearby went gaping open.
"Give me a round, soldier." The soldier nodded, dishcharged the clip and elegantly plucked a round from the clip. He then handed it to the Captain.
He took it, held it up in the fading light and grinned. "It can be lethal when the enemy is hit anywhere. And I mean it. This is a .50 calibur bullet, and can rip whole arms and legs off. It can go through inches, perhaps feet of your finest metals and still retain a high enough speed to kill. This gun," he motioned, "can fire the bullet so accurate, that it is only limited by the skill of its user. It can go through five men before it is stopped." Their eyes were wide with curiosity. "How can such a small thing cause so much damage?" One guard asked suspisiously.
To this, Glavich answered "In time you may know this. But first, let us prove it."
--5 min. later--
A solid sphere of bronze had been set up nearly a mile away, and all were next to it. All save the sniper and four other Marines, of course. The fading sun light cast a deep shadow on all present, and the sun was setting beautifully. None of them noticed, however. All eyes were focused on the bronze sphere about to be annialated.
The sniper assumed the prone pisition. On the ground, he looked through the scope, and sighted his target. Then he asked his computer, "Wind difference calculations on shot." The tiny, yet powerful computer in his helmet then shot a laser beam out, reading dust passing by at various lengths of distance, and then spewed the answer 'minus point zero zero two-five degrees west'. The sniper smiled, practically nothing. He then centered the cross-hairs, adjusted for the distance, took a breath, exhaled and waited for his heart-beat. *badump* *BAM*
A loud, readily audible crack flew through the air, trailing the bullet as it closed the distance in less than a second. In an instant the bronze sphere flew back nearly ten feet, and rolled another five. Glavich asked the commander to bring his men back, and the order to return was given. They then all stepped over to the broze sphere. What they saw, however, was a bronze bowl, with a near four inch hole clean through it, still warm to the touch.
Nearly all present were visibly startled, and then the Captain looked directly at the Great Lord and said: "Now look into a pair of binochlears to see what is next." He motioned the bemused, yet clearly confused leader to the strange object. He peered inside, and gasped. "You can see for miles, can't you? Now, look here." He moved the lens so that it covered an empty patch of beach, at least a mile away from any pygmy, and said "wait". Ten seconds later, a massive fireball consumed everything with a few hundred yards, and a few minutes later, after the dust ahd settled, he looked at it again. Nothing. Just black.
"What was that?" He inquired.
"It was a missle from our boats. One of our ships can cause far more damage than any army that you have fought ever could. It has 14 other devises that do that, and cannons that fire bullets 50 times larger than this can as well. This is the technology we wish to birth your country to. Slowly, at first, but we shall give you the knowlege that has passed over your lands like a sieve for the last 500 years and left you in the dark. Had we come to destroy you, we would have never left our boats. We could have anniahlated your lands with only our missles. We have, however, left in order to befriend, not conqour you. Let us leave this place in the failing light. But come, let us first hear of your history, and perhaps forge a friendship on paper as proof." The Captain smiled, and bowed to him as the sniper team hastily returned. They then moved to the capitol building, or what they had heard of as the Temple. They quickly assended the flight of stairs, speaking all the way to the strange, short people they had met this day.

The Great Exalted Pygmy Lord was suitably impressed by the weapons demonstration, and he intended to talk business with the Captain in the morning, and discuss his proposals. But now was not the time, and he invited the Captain and his men into the Temple Palace, where they would hear the history of the Pygmies, and eat the delicious foods that were abundant upon the islands.

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The Pygmies are interested in forging an alliance with Christopher Thompson, that will include trade and military terms.

OOC: It'd be alot easier if you'd set the story up for the agreements for the rp purposes.

OOC: Ok.

IC:
The Great Exalted Pymgy Lord had left plenty of time for his guests to recover from the night before, there had been no alcohol, the Pygmies did not know of such stuff, but the feast had been enough to feed a hundred Pygmies for half a year. The Lord only hoped it had been enough.

He now sat opposite the Captain, at a table he had requested. When he had requested it, he had been given a hugely ornate and comfortable chair, with a variety of juices to drink. Whereas the Captain had simply been given a cup of water and a stool. The Lord knew that this would not be appreciated, and much against his servant's wishes, they now sat with matching chairs and a pitcher of water between them, as the Lord outlined his ideas.

"As you know, our technology is much outdated by yours, and we would like to be upgraded fully. The wonders you described to me last night, we would like to have them all installed. After some assessment of course. We will need Pygmies to be taught how to use the technology also, so they can pass it on. In terms of military technology, we would your trainers to teach our trainers the ways of your weapons and warfare, so they may teach it to our Pygmy Warriors."

"Of course you don't need to worry about us passing on this knowledge to others, as at this moment, you are the only nation that we are in communication. That brings me on to our Alliance. The Pygmies would like to propose the we shall remain Allies, never attacking each other, or compromising one another's plans, and should it be required, offer help and support, be it economically, militarilly or politically."

The Exalted Pygmy Lord waited for the Captain to give his response, sipping his water after his speech.

Captain Glavich looked around the table, admiring the fair attempt at proper seating. One thing he could admire, however, were the fine culinary skills of the Pygmies. Military cooking was not more than defication by comparison to the unbelievable platters that had been put before each of the men in this great dining hall. For such a small pople, the Temple was a grand building. Nearly an hour had passed since the first trays of food had been carried and wheeled out, and it looks like this would be a total sucess. He was closing deals with their leader already. "Yes yes, of course. We will station a stock-pile of weapons here, as well as men to train your soldiers on how to use them to great effectiveness. And in time, we will teach you metal-urgy as well. You are much behind. COM lines, new tactics, tanks, aircraft...You have so very much to learn. All of your people do. I don't know how long it will take, but The Holy Empire will stand by you until it is done. And perhaps we may becom steadfast allies in the process. In order to prevent you becoming controlled in your technology-weak state, we will keep the warcraft that are in your waters here. In time, we will show your people them up close, and perhaps they may teach you all something as well..." Glavich began to trail off, looking at the monumentous task that had been placed before him. His job was nothing short of advancing an entire civilization nearly half a millenia. "Damn, I'd better roll up my sleeves..."
"I'm sorry?"
"Oh, I was just thinking of the work ahead of me. Come, we must finilize our plans and set up a base to begin your modernization after this glourious meal has concluded. We may have better weapons than you, but your food beats military food any day. My compliments go out to the chef."

"I'm sure he will be very pleased that you found the meal as good as you say. replied the Pygmy Lord. "Indeed, this is huge task, and will be a long time in the making, and we are immeasurably thankful for your friendship. But the Pygmies are an industrious race when put to a task, and I'm sure they'll put their best effort in. And," said the Pygmy Lord, lowering his voice, "should anyone give you any trouble, report them straight to me."

"Now, in terms of a base, for diplomatic reasons within the Nations, I think it best that you build it on this island, as it is considered neutral territory, the last thing we want is a bunch of indignant Clan Leaders saying that the other has more favour than him. If you understand."

"But, before we can begin, some sculptors wish to see you, to make measurements for a statue."

"Yes yes, I understand- Whoa, a statue!" His face grew red as a rose. "I-I...well, okay, I guess. Thank you very much, good Lord." The Captain was taken off-guard by such a token of respect. "Well then, I suppose I should be off to brief my men back on the sea of my progress. You or some of your people may come for a tour of our ships if it so pleases you." He turned to the Maine next to him. "Call in two -- no three -- Seahawks to the area, we need to make a report, and begin some construction plans." The Marine nodded, and fitted his helmet back on and called the three choppers in. On the seas by the strange nation, three SH-60 Seahawks whirred to life and moved off the carriers. In a few minutes, they were passing over the docks, and moving in to the LZ.

"We Pygmies wish to show our respect for what you are going to do for us. Yes your ships, I understand the are made of metal? I am curious as to how they remain bouyant."

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The 3 Seahawks' rotors whirred overhead as the Pygmy Lord and his entourage of 2 bodyguards and the 'Warrior Advisor' followed the Captain on board. The Advisor had trouble hiding his glee at travelling on such an aircraft, and he quickfired the Captain with questions as to the helicopter's uses. One of the bodyguards looked faintly sick.

Sry, but I have lotsa hwk. I'll post tommarow when I've got the time, promise.

The Seahawks glided through the still air, blazing passed the town underneath that quickly turned into a catacomb of balazars and and people going about their daily routine until they saw the three choppers. Though none of the people in them could make out faces, they all knew what each and every piugmy was thinking: 'What the?' As the neared the docks, the tower on carrier two, H.I. E.N. Halskavek cued in with their speed, the carriers, wind and vectors for the landing. One of the three strange men on the middle Seahawk was sick. He spilled nearly off the side puking his guts out in a fury of what seemed like blows to his stomach. He remained calm however. The secind was delighted, even visibly. Curious and fascinated, much like a child. The third, wiser of the three however, was solemn and quiet. The blades of the chopers neared the carrier, and the pilot yelled for everyone to 'Get their ass strapped in, or else', and everyone quickly obliged. The three pygmies had be strapped in with assistance, however, as this device was as foreign as it was fast. "We're gonna get a little bumpy, so just keep calm back there!" Yelled the pilot, much to the dismay of the pygmy who was again turning green.
The choppers finally touched down on the carrier, and they all departed onto the carrier's run-way. For the three pygmy's, it was fascinating. The ship was so large, flat and hard; it felt almost like dry land save the humidity. The ship was massive; possesing over 4.5 acres of runway,and a six story tower as well as multiple floors. They were shown through the carrier for the day, experiencing it all in full glory. They watched several planes land and take off; they were shown the massive engines and the ship's weapons. The group then proceeded to the Boss' Tower; where Admiral Harlin waited. The three Pygmys were astounded by all the magnificant machinery. They were explained of what it did, anmd their eyes grew even larger. Then, as the sun was setting to a peaceful sea, the Admiral came forward. He was an average sized man for his age of 48, but in good shape. He had an army cut, the full uniform on, and a fat cigar in his tight lips. He spoke, however, very eloquent and rich. "Good evening, sirs." He exchanged handshakes. "I am to understand that we're to become good friends. Let us depart this wretched tower for the officer's lounge. Please follow me." On the way down (which seemed to take quite a while for the Pygmys who had never even dreamed a ship so large), Admiral Harlin made good conversation with the Exhaulted Leader, who quickly realized just how gifted with words he was. This suprised him none, though, as he was equally gifted with the silver tongue. Despite his awe at the ship building of these people, he remained ever calm, acting as if he had done this every day of his life, which was a good sign in the Admiral's eyes. The enteres the officer's lounge, and the large, bulky ship turned into a five-star resturant. White table cloths, gorgeous decoration, closed bookshelves and quite a nice wet bar. Behind this were the cooks, who served only the best food to such men as he.
The five sat down (Seawolf Captain, Admiral, and the three pygmys) at a table, and a man quickly arrived at the table. "What can I get for you, Admiral?" He said. "I'll have a whiskey on the rocks," he replied.
"I'll have an Egelhaft," replied the Seawolf captain.
"Egelhaft, eh?" the Admiral inquired. "Since when did you start drinking that
nasty stuff?" Egelhaft was one of the stronger brews in The Holy Empire, and was notoriously common for being found in the blood of people who recieved 'Darwin Awards' for their stupidity while dying.
"Always have," he replied. "Oh, and get these three some water, and a sapmpler of good drinks and food, please." "Yes Captain, of course." The waiter buzzed off, and the group began to talk.
"Now," started the Admiral, "we've drawn up this beautiful piece of paper here," he drew a folder from his coat and pulled out its' contents. It was suprisingly short, only half a dozen pages in length. The group read it over drinks and dinner, and the night went on much like this until everyone was satisfied with what the agreement said.