The Unfounded
14-05-2005, 03:18
OOC: This is an intro post for the Unfounded, a new MT version-ish of Godular. They are pretty much a nation made up of seven separate 'Tribal Nationalities' that have essentially said 'screw it' and united to form a more powerful nation. For being such an isolated country until this point, their economy is one of the best, if not THE best for its size. Crime is nonexistent, and the people dedicate themselves almost wholly to the perfection of the art of war.
Concealed weapons are legal, encouraged, and widespread.
Martial Arts is taught in P.E. from 1st grade up, with Philosophy also being a major aspect of the curriculum. All grade schoolers are given a copy of Sun Tzu's Art of War, with another book of tactics and philosophy being given with each progressive grade level. Each student is required to read, analyze, and report on each text they are given.
Honor and Loyalty are paramount to the Tribes of the Unfounded, along with a strong sense of individuality.
Their military is WELL trained, well equipped, and practices sniping coins from five hundred yards for fun, often times indulging in trick-shot contests. Kinda like Samurai with guns.
Political ideology is unknown, as they never really stopped to think about it.
That being said, I believe that I shall now get to the actual post.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Quick-Like-Squirrel sat at the rear of his airy pavilion, listening to the wind as it gusted about the great hilltop. It was a cloudy autumn day, with temperatures sitting in the mid fifties, and the sound of the wind rushing through the grasslands was endlessly soothing.
At least it would have been if there wasn't an army five thousand strong, with a full quarter of them sparring in en-masse sword fights. One would think that having swarms of troopers swinging their razor-sharp swords, whooping and hollering with glee, in a melee of such grand scope just for training purposes would be a recipe for disaster, yet somehow they managed it without a single casualty, injury, or poked eye.
"OW! MY EAR!"
"Suck it up and see the medic, he'll sew it back on."
Scratch that. There was always one or two people getting some non-essential extremity reattached. Quick-Like-Squirrel rolled his eyes. The squawk of several vultures flying overhead (Battlezones were good hunting grounds, don't'cha know?) was punctuated with several bursts of ground fire and several panicked squawks as other soldiers decided to take potshots at the drifting pests.
The rest of the division stood vigil over the surrounding countryside, with about fifty U-250A Main Battle Tanks roaming around like go-carts, machine gun nests in tactically advantageous areas (on rolling plains of grass, that was pretty much anywhere), and attack helicopter pilots playing poker next to their machines.
Amazing that this section of grassland was completely undisturbed an hour and a half ago. Quick-Like-Squirrel had chosen the relatively serene area as the site where he hoped to achieve what had been thought utterly impossible. Although, that was only because it had never really been brought up before. Too long had the Unfounded tribes been fighting for supremacy against each other. Too long had they given each other sinister glares, rude gestures, and cut in front of each other at the theme park. BUT NO LONGER!
Quick-Like-Squirrel spied the first of the tribal leaders, roaring along with what seemed to be several hundred of his own soldiers in tow. In the other direction, two more Chieftains approached, similarly reinforced.
After another hour of waiting, all seven of the Unfounded Tribal Chieftains sat at the conference table, the combined army around them dead silent.
Quick-Like-Squirrel, Chieftain of the Hawkeye Clan, dressed in red and gold, sat at the head of the table. Being the one who called the meeting, he got to pick where he sat. His clan of about one hundred and fifty million people dominated the northern parts of the country, known for its mountains and surprisingly well kept forests. The Hawkeye, while not having the largest military of the tribes, were known far and wide as being the tactical geniuses.
Scars-And-Knives, Chieftain of the Blazewind Clan, dressed in gray and white, sat to his right. His clan, at around 250 million, held control over the western plains 'n deserts, and had a grasp of military engineering and weapons manufacturing that none of the others could match.
Death-Of-Sharks, Chieftain of the Wavecrasher Clan, dressed and blue and black, sat further along the right side of the table. With a clan numbering another 250 million-ish, he exercised dominion over the western coastal regions and boasted a mastery of naval engineering that put the other tribes to shame.
Soars-Like-Eagles, Chieftain of the Cloudrunner Clan, dressed in blue and white, sat just short of directly opposite Quick-Like-Squirrel. Just barely passing 200 million in number, his clan ruled the skies from the southern steppes as the eminent authority in avionics.
Whispers-Like-Wind, Chieftain of the Shadowhunter Clan, dressed in... black... and black... with an odd aura of blackness around her... and black body paint... and black contacts... and black tooth paint... sat just on the other side of being directly opposite of Quick-Like Squirrel. Her clan was fewest in number, but none of the others dared to underestimate her intelligence and spy corps. Nobody could quite pinpoint where the clan hailed from.
Bucks-And-Weaves, Chieftain of the ManyArrows Clan, dressed in red and deeper red, sat further along the edge of the table. His clan, numbering 300 million or so, give or take a household, ruled the roost of the southeastern deserts with their battle finesse and DAMN fine aim.
Eyes-On-Future, Chieftain of the Ironwaker Clan, dressed in pure gray, completed the circle. His clan, about 175 million strong of the most erudite among them all, controled the eastern mountains and ruled as the uncontested master of alternative warfare and innovation.
Each of them embodied the most important aspects of war. Each controlled strong and wealthy empires of their own, as they worked to achieve some measure of dominance over each other.
Quick-Like-Squirrel smirked to himself. He'd read up on each of the other clans. He did it at least twice a day to make certain that he didn't miss anything. In all the fighting, they failed to realize that the seven clans combined could become a veritable world Juggernaut.
Heh. Combined. The tribes had been at war for centuries, though only the ancestors really knew what had kicked it all off.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," Quick-Like-Squirrel announced, "Doubtless you are curious as to why I called you all here today." Noting the emphatic nods and harrumphs of confirmation, he continued. "I must say before I explain that the fact that all of you are here today, and didn't just turn around after seeing the size of the army I brought to accompany me, bodes very well for what I wish to discuss."
"Eh, I got nukes targeted on this position if you pull anything."
"Air strikes primed and ready."
"Did you know my guns can reach every damn one of your capitols?"
"If I die, your families go with me--"
"WILL YOU LOT SHUT UP?! I called you all together today to discuss the possibility of unification."
Silence reigned once again.
"Say what?" came the unanimous and sychronized reply.
"You all heard me. We've been fighting each other for hundreds of years, cursing each others names for just a tad longer, and giving each other cold shoulders at all the holiday parties. I am getting tired of it."
"You can always surrender," Bucks-And-Weaves commented.
"Or we can try something that will make us ALL stronger, and without any of us having to suffer the indignity of surrender to boot!"
"Stronger?"
Quick-Like-Squirrel nodded. "I won't lie to you. Every damn one of us is just as powerful as the others. Each and every one of us excels at something different. Why can't we just stop pointing our swords at each other and pool our resources?"
"They killed my father!" "They killed my brother!" "They killed my uncle!" "They called me a nasty name in a miss-sent e-mail!" "They sent us a bogus supply of ammunition!"
Quick-Like-Squirrel whipped out a chalkboard and ran a nail file across it. Everybody shut up.
"IF YOU DON'T MIND... OW... those are sucky reasons to fight a war, especially when we've been fighting for only the ancestors can say how long. War is war. People die. Quit taking it personal. I lost both my grandparents to... I forgot who, and frankly, they died well. I honestly don't give a crap who got who anymore. And you know what? Neither does the rest of my clan. And I can tell you lot that neither do you. You're waging war more out of tradition than principle!"
"Quick-Like-Squirrel speaks truth" Whispers-Like-Wind said, nodding and giving everybody else what might have been a knowing look.
Silence reigned again. Death-Of-Sharks was first to respond this time: "Soooo... what exactly are we going to unite... for?"
Quick-Like-Squirrel had the answer thought out long before: "For the combined and continued prosperity of all our clans, great before, we shall be titanic when joined. We can turn our attentions to the outside world, mingle, trade, converse, and destroy our enemies with furious anger!"
"Who are our enemies?" came a response that nobody laid claim to.
"Uh..." Quick-Like-Squirrel had not rehearsed this part, he attempted to compensate by making a grand gesture of... something.
"THEM!"
"What, you mean you want us to start some sort of Jihad against the vultures?"
"Uh... Well. Its hard to say who our enemy is, since we haven't really... made any yet. But if we DO make any enemies, we shall come crashing down on them like an avalanche of guns and bombs!"
"Good point there."
"Until then, I say we just start working TOGETHER FOR ONCE, after all, who says we can't simply engage in friendly rivalries rather than outright warfare?"
The other Chieftains nodded with raised eyebrows.
"Truth be told, the combat's been getting a little old." "We need to shoot somebody else." "Can we sell nukes?" "My spies have been wanting the chance to go outside the country."
"Who's gonna lead this whole thing?" came Bucks-And-Weaves' question, out of the blue. "You?"
"Curses No!"
"Then who?"
"I sorta figured that we would be amenable to just sticking with a 'council of elders' or something. I'm good, but I'm not good at everything. Who is good at everything? US, not me."
"So... we just sorta vote on major issues or something?"
"Yeah sure whatever."
"Eh. Sounds good to me." "Me too." "I agree with the conditions." "Sure why not." "I'm cool with it." "I can just see it now, an airport in every city..." "There IS an airport in every city!" "Really? Huh! Well okay then!"
"So its settled then."
"Looks like it."
"Huh. Kinda anticlimactic."
"Strange how that works."
"Wait... other issue! Where's the capitol gonna be? We can only have one, you know."
"I dunno... hold a raffle? Whoever wins gets the Capitol?"
"You six go ahead," Whispers-Like-Wind said. "I'm not telling you where my capitol is."
"Uh... okaaaaaay..."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Eyes-On-Future poetically won the raffle, and Ukabe Machine City became the effective capitol of the new Unfounded Alliance.
With little time wasted on paperwork, diplomats were sent out to all the nations of the world, hoping to establish trade agreements and diplomatic ties with whoever really paid attention to that kind of thing.
Quick-Like-Squirrel was surprised it was so easy... he hoped it didn't fall apart as quickly.
Concealed weapons are legal, encouraged, and widespread.
Martial Arts is taught in P.E. from 1st grade up, with Philosophy also being a major aspect of the curriculum. All grade schoolers are given a copy of Sun Tzu's Art of War, with another book of tactics and philosophy being given with each progressive grade level. Each student is required to read, analyze, and report on each text they are given.
Honor and Loyalty are paramount to the Tribes of the Unfounded, along with a strong sense of individuality.
Their military is WELL trained, well equipped, and practices sniping coins from five hundred yards for fun, often times indulging in trick-shot contests. Kinda like Samurai with guns.
Political ideology is unknown, as they never really stopped to think about it.
That being said, I believe that I shall now get to the actual post.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Quick-Like-Squirrel sat at the rear of his airy pavilion, listening to the wind as it gusted about the great hilltop. It was a cloudy autumn day, with temperatures sitting in the mid fifties, and the sound of the wind rushing through the grasslands was endlessly soothing.
At least it would have been if there wasn't an army five thousand strong, with a full quarter of them sparring in en-masse sword fights. One would think that having swarms of troopers swinging their razor-sharp swords, whooping and hollering with glee, in a melee of such grand scope just for training purposes would be a recipe for disaster, yet somehow they managed it without a single casualty, injury, or poked eye.
"OW! MY EAR!"
"Suck it up and see the medic, he'll sew it back on."
Scratch that. There was always one or two people getting some non-essential extremity reattached. Quick-Like-Squirrel rolled his eyes. The squawk of several vultures flying overhead (Battlezones were good hunting grounds, don't'cha know?) was punctuated with several bursts of ground fire and several panicked squawks as other soldiers decided to take potshots at the drifting pests.
The rest of the division stood vigil over the surrounding countryside, with about fifty U-250A Main Battle Tanks roaming around like go-carts, machine gun nests in tactically advantageous areas (on rolling plains of grass, that was pretty much anywhere), and attack helicopter pilots playing poker next to their machines.
Amazing that this section of grassland was completely undisturbed an hour and a half ago. Quick-Like-Squirrel had chosen the relatively serene area as the site where he hoped to achieve what had been thought utterly impossible. Although, that was only because it had never really been brought up before. Too long had the Unfounded tribes been fighting for supremacy against each other. Too long had they given each other sinister glares, rude gestures, and cut in front of each other at the theme park. BUT NO LONGER!
Quick-Like-Squirrel spied the first of the tribal leaders, roaring along with what seemed to be several hundred of his own soldiers in tow. In the other direction, two more Chieftains approached, similarly reinforced.
After another hour of waiting, all seven of the Unfounded Tribal Chieftains sat at the conference table, the combined army around them dead silent.
Quick-Like-Squirrel, Chieftain of the Hawkeye Clan, dressed in red and gold, sat at the head of the table. Being the one who called the meeting, he got to pick where he sat. His clan of about one hundred and fifty million people dominated the northern parts of the country, known for its mountains and surprisingly well kept forests. The Hawkeye, while not having the largest military of the tribes, were known far and wide as being the tactical geniuses.
Scars-And-Knives, Chieftain of the Blazewind Clan, dressed in gray and white, sat to his right. His clan, at around 250 million, held control over the western plains 'n deserts, and had a grasp of military engineering and weapons manufacturing that none of the others could match.
Death-Of-Sharks, Chieftain of the Wavecrasher Clan, dressed and blue and black, sat further along the right side of the table. With a clan numbering another 250 million-ish, he exercised dominion over the western coastal regions and boasted a mastery of naval engineering that put the other tribes to shame.
Soars-Like-Eagles, Chieftain of the Cloudrunner Clan, dressed in blue and white, sat just short of directly opposite Quick-Like-Squirrel. Just barely passing 200 million in number, his clan ruled the skies from the southern steppes as the eminent authority in avionics.
Whispers-Like-Wind, Chieftain of the Shadowhunter Clan, dressed in... black... and black... with an odd aura of blackness around her... and black body paint... and black contacts... and black tooth paint... sat just on the other side of being directly opposite of Quick-Like Squirrel. Her clan was fewest in number, but none of the others dared to underestimate her intelligence and spy corps. Nobody could quite pinpoint where the clan hailed from.
Bucks-And-Weaves, Chieftain of the ManyArrows Clan, dressed in red and deeper red, sat further along the edge of the table. His clan, numbering 300 million or so, give or take a household, ruled the roost of the southeastern deserts with their battle finesse and DAMN fine aim.
Eyes-On-Future, Chieftain of the Ironwaker Clan, dressed in pure gray, completed the circle. His clan, about 175 million strong of the most erudite among them all, controled the eastern mountains and ruled as the uncontested master of alternative warfare and innovation.
Each of them embodied the most important aspects of war. Each controlled strong and wealthy empires of their own, as they worked to achieve some measure of dominance over each other.
Quick-Like-Squirrel smirked to himself. He'd read up on each of the other clans. He did it at least twice a day to make certain that he didn't miss anything. In all the fighting, they failed to realize that the seven clans combined could become a veritable world Juggernaut.
Heh. Combined. The tribes had been at war for centuries, though only the ancestors really knew what had kicked it all off.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," Quick-Like-Squirrel announced, "Doubtless you are curious as to why I called you all here today." Noting the emphatic nods and harrumphs of confirmation, he continued. "I must say before I explain that the fact that all of you are here today, and didn't just turn around after seeing the size of the army I brought to accompany me, bodes very well for what I wish to discuss."
"Eh, I got nukes targeted on this position if you pull anything."
"Air strikes primed and ready."
"Did you know my guns can reach every damn one of your capitols?"
"If I die, your families go with me--"
"WILL YOU LOT SHUT UP?! I called you all together today to discuss the possibility of unification."
Silence reigned once again.
"Say what?" came the unanimous and sychronized reply.
"You all heard me. We've been fighting each other for hundreds of years, cursing each others names for just a tad longer, and giving each other cold shoulders at all the holiday parties. I am getting tired of it."
"You can always surrender," Bucks-And-Weaves commented.
"Or we can try something that will make us ALL stronger, and without any of us having to suffer the indignity of surrender to boot!"
"Stronger?"
Quick-Like-Squirrel nodded. "I won't lie to you. Every damn one of us is just as powerful as the others. Each and every one of us excels at something different. Why can't we just stop pointing our swords at each other and pool our resources?"
"They killed my father!" "They killed my brother!" "They killed my uncle!" "They called me a nasty name in a miss-sent e-mail!" "They sent us a bogus supply of ammunition!"
Quick-Like-Squirrel whipped out a chalkboard and ran a nail file across it. Everybody shut up.
"IF YOU DON'T MIND... OW... those are sucky reasons to fight a war, especially when we've been fighting for only the ancestors can say how long. War is war. People die. Quit taking it personal. I lost both my grandparents to... I forgot who, and frankly, they died well. I honestly don't give a crap who got who anymore. And you know what? Neither does the rest of my clan. And I can tell you lot that neither do you. You're waging war more out of tradition than principle!"
"Quick-Like-Squirrel speaks truth" Whispers-Like-Wind said, nodding and giving everybody else what might have been a knowing look.
Silence reigned again. Death-Of-Sharks was first to respond this time: "Soooo... what exactly are we going to unite... for?"
Quick-Like-Squirrel had the answer thought out long before: "For the combined and continued prosperity of all our clans, great before, we shall be titanic when joined. We can turn our attentions to the outside world, mingle, trade, converse, and destroy our enemies with furious anger!"
"Who are our enemies?" came a response that nobody laid claim to.
"Uh..." Quick-Like-Squirrel had not rehearsed this part, he attempted to compensate by making a grand gesture of... something.
"THEM!"
"What, you mean you want us to start some sort of Jihad against the vultures?"
"Uh... Well. Its hard to say who our enemy is, since we haven't really... made any yet. But if we DO make any enemies, we shall come crashing down on them like an avalanche of guns and bombs!"
"Good point there."
"Until then, I say we just start working TOGETHER FOR ONCE, after all, who says we can't simply engage in friendly rivalries rather than outright warfare?"
The other Chieftains nodded with raised eyebrows.
"Truth be told, the combat's been getting a little old." "We need to shoot somebody else." "Can we sell nukes?" "My spies have been wanting the chance to go outside the country."
"Who's gonna lead this whole thing?" came Bucks-And-Weaves' question, out of the blue. "You?"
"Curses No!"
"Then who?"
"I sorta figured that we would be amenable to just sticking with a 'council of elders' or something. I'm good, but I'm not good at everything. Who is good at everything? US, not me."
"So... we just sorta vote on major issues or something?"
"Yeah sure whatever."
"Eh. Sounds good to me." "Me too." "I agree with the conditions." "Sure why not." "I'm cool with it." "I can just see it now, an airport in every city..." "There IS an airport in every city!" "Really? Huh! Well okay then!"
"So its settled then."
"Looks like it."
"Huh. Kinda anticlimactic."
"Strange how that works."
"Wait... other issue! Where's the capitol gonna be? We can only have one, you know."
"I dunno... hold a raffle? Whoever wins gets the Capitol?"
"You six go ahead," Whispers-Like-Wind said. "I'm not telling you where my capitol is."
"Uh... okaaaaaay..."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Eyes-On-Future poetically won the raffle, and Ukabe Machine City became the effective capitol of the new Unfounded Alliance.
With little time wasted on paperwork, diplomats were sent out to all the nations of the world, hoping to establish trade agreements and diplomatic ties with whoever really paid attention to that kind of thing.
Quick-Like-Squirrel was surprised it was so easy... he hoped it didn't fall apart as quickly.