NationStates Jolt Archive

The Docks Of Shinshouhen Open Up

It is early in the morning as the sun has just begun to rise, as the clear waters rocked back and forth along the southern shore of the tropical tip of the Shinshouhen homeland, and a fisherman stood at the docks, one hand over his eye, as he gazed forward at the open waters. The Docks of Shinshouhen have begun to open up, for negotiation about trade and other agreements it can make with other countries. Since it is still a rather,
held back and technologically inferior nation, they wear simple garments, and not jeans, pants, or cotton shirts that other nations wear today, but more of a humble garments. The upper parts crossed with each other, and the lower region of the garments were usually a kind of baggy cloth, though woman were more restricted and more bound, since the cloth was not baggy like the men's. A ship, possibly part of its navy force, floated by in the open water, a man standing there with some sort of hat on, his hands at his side, on his left side, a sheath and a sword. Though this is no sign of aggression, but more like protection, if negotiations and trade agreements do not end well.

The Shinshouhen nation is prepared to trade with any nearby nation in its goods of an assortment of metal from its southern regions, wood, and tropical food and wildlife, but has no current intention of making any long term pacts or joining any specific kind of group, until further notice.

The slightly dilapidated steel cutter forged through the warm current, sunlight beaming down and reflecting off the white sands of the paradise ahead. Colonel Heatherwood sucked in air between his teeth, grey hair slicked back in a style reminiscent of the generals of old Britannia. Olive green travel cloak revealing the sabre at his hip, golden hilt and silver blade reflecting in the sun of the tropical coast. Squinting at the approaching beach and finding it difficult not to note the crystal clear water and smooth sand beneath, Heatherwood nearly lost himself in the beauty of the place, he was glad the Collective Oligarchy had proposed the agreement, feeling at peace, the colonel closed his eyes and began to suck in the salt hinted air through aged nostrils. However, Heatherwood wasn't allowed to take in the lightly salted wind as instead the familiar sound of boots resounding off wooden decks grew louder in the old man's ears.

"Yes Harker?" Came the patient, cool voice of the tall, aged colonel, while the approaching trooper, had a look of surprise painted upon his dark features, most of the men under Heatherwood's command underestimated his senses.

"Sir, we have nearly approached the nation of Shinshouhen." Replied to footslogger, cheap cotton uniform ill suited to the weather in which the small cutter and its crew, as well as passengers were subjected to.

"I am quite aware of that, thank you private Harker, dismissed."

The younger man was about to say to something, of that the colonel was sure, but the yell of the crew interrupted the unsure Proletarian Guardsman. Distinctly working class crewmen ran to and fro, adjusting the rigging and preparing the ropes for docking and initiating relations with the backwards country. The din of dockworkers preparing for the ship's arrival faded in and the crew of the cutter made about preparing for the small craft's being moored to the Shinshouhen Docks.

OoC: Have you got MSN or AIM?

My contacts are:-

AIM: Kriegorgrad
MSN: Caspianwally@hotmail.com

Add me post haste, so we can do this RP easier, if you'd like.

The sight of a incoming ship or some sort of watercraft would come into the view of the Shinshouhen people. Some stood on hills, and around the beachy shore, with its beautiful sand and crystal clear water washing on shore, but were kept back from the docks, as a line of men stood there, in a organized fashion, hands at there sides, their eyes looking forward, as they bowed toward a man who slowly began to walk between the filed line. The man raised his hand, and they ceased bowing, following the man at his back. The man had a decorate garment around him, as well as a sheath at his side, and a alternative sheath in the front of his robes, as he walked to the docks, looking at the incoming ship, a blade of grass in his mouth as he chewed. He appeared to be some sort of rank in the military, and was apparently acting as the diplomat for this landing.

"It seems that we truely have to accept them in and discuss matters of trade an agreement, though it will be hard, since they do not understand our toung," said the diplomat, as he turned to look at the men behind him, "Do not be afraid of these strange people, welcome them as if they were guests in your home, but if they try to strike or hurt any of our people, we shall cut them asunder." The crowd of men roared, as they stepped back as the diplomat motioned them to, as the Diplomat walked down on the dock, and stood there, awaiting their arrival.

"In all my life, I never knew that our way of life will change....but still...I hope after all of this, we can still have the soul of the sword in our hearts"
- Diplomat at Shinshouhen's Docks.

And as the ship arrived closer and closer, the people would look out, cautiousness in the soldier's eyes, and a wise look in the Diplomat's eyes, as he knew this day would come sooner or later, even if it was many years from now.

(OOC:: My aim is KientoMase, My yahoo is kileehamasaki@yahoo.com, my MSN is tailstails2k1@hotmail.com)

The cutter bumped against the docks and native dockworkers tossed the ropes to the Kriegos crewmen, who, as was second nature to them, caught, albeit with a sense of unease. Most people in Kriegorgrad who hadn’t been to the frontlines during conflict had never seen a foreigner of the same race, let alone a foreigner of a different ethnicity. The familiar shouts came to Heatherwood’s ears as his memory trawled back through the archives to his youth near the docks in one of the port cities, the familiar crash and din of workers rushing to and fro, the wet rainy docks and off-duty workers playing cards around makeshift tables while fungus and damp seeped into the wood of the docks. The memory brought some unpleasant nostalgia as he thought back to the hard work he had to endure, the only thing that had saved him was the annual conscription into the Youth Guard, while not the most glamorous of lives, it was vastly superior to the life of a longshoreman, hauling cargo off of aging ships reeking of fish, all under the veil of oppressive cloud and being buffeted by torrents of rain. Heatherwood quickly moved up the ranks of the Youth Guard and then proceeded to join the Proletarian Guard before the conscription demanded it.

Calling himself back to the current state of affairs, the aged colonel braced himself on the side of the cutter as the dockworkers pulled it in, halting with a thud at the old fashioned docks. The six other soldiers held an expression of veiled worry, realising that he couldn’t be seen conversing with his men in whispers that could tell of trouble, he leapt over the side of the boat, landing on the docks with the dull recognition of weight on wood. Heat buffeted the old man who promptly unclasped his travel cloak and tossed it back into the cutter, revealing the Webley revolver that was holstered on Heatherwood’s other hip, Harker caught it and set it down in a messy pile on top of a barrel. Then, one by one more thuds were heard as the rest of Proletarian Guardsmen followed, white knuckled grips on Enfield rifles and Sten guns the discerning feature in comparison to the calm strides of Heatherwood reminiscent of a stereotypical example of nobility.

The soldiers were dressed as British troopers from World War One, save for the red star (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v227/Kriegorgrad/seal.jpg) adorning the lapels and epaulettes of the ineptly equipped Guardsmen. Hunched over their rifles, the soldiers moved behind the confident Heatherwood, gold hilted sabre clattering at his hip as he made his way to the Shinshouhen diplomat. Harker was the first to voice his concerns.

”Sir, I’m not too sure these savages can what be trusted.” Came the thickly proletarian voice of Harker, lower class accent ringing in Heatherwood’s ears.

”Don’t address them as such, we shan’t shatter any possibility of relations because of your incompetence!” The trained, nigh aristocratic tune that clung to Heatherwood’s voice silenced any protest from the younger man.

”Sir.” Was the acknowledgement.

The last few steps seemed to drag on forever for the spooked soldiers, until Harker whispered in a humorous tone: “Look, where are their guns? I can’t believe we was spooked by people without guns…by Fedor.”

Heatherwood would’ve chastised the soldier but thought better of it, in the presence of the foreigners, the Kriegos had to appear united, composing himself and his thoughts, the colonel doubling as a diplomat pondered what would best appeal to the people from a completely alien culture and way of life. Heatherwood deemed it safe to put his hand forward for a hearty shake and then stated, in the most diplomatic voice he could muster.

“ Greetings kind hosts, we are here to discuss the potential future of Kriegos-Shinshouhen relations. Kriegos meaning people from Kriegorgrad, of course.”

A smile on his lips hid the discomfort and uncertainty that Heatherwood felt and he only hoped that some of the ill feeling was concealed by the expression etched into the colonel’s old features.

((OOC:: Since it will be hard to converse because of two different languages, the shinshouhen "diplomat" will be speaking probably broken parts of your language, learning it for your arrival, if that is okay. If it is not, let me know))

The foreign diplomat, to the eyes of the soldiers and people of Kriego's origin, would appear to be dressed in an odd garment, even though it was similar to the other Shinshouhen people, it seemed to be decorated somehow, in their own way, as well as to his left side was a sheathed sword, similar to a katana, the handle of the sword and the sheath shining with a somewhat silver coloration, possibly from the metal it was made out of, but the diplomat, who was obviously some sort of commanding officer, showed no signs of unsheathing his weapon. He raised his eyebrows instead, as he saw the outward hand, thinking that the man, who began to speak, was having trouble walking along the Dock, and so he grabbed the hand and pulled him a little closer. There was no offensive gestures, or feelings of aggressiveness in it though. The Shinshouhen Diplomat bowed toward the man, not showing inferiority, far from it, since a flare burned in his eyes, as it did with all his people, of being united, and not letting anyone take over their lives....it was a simple greeting, like a hand shake, as he slowly stood up again, "Yes, time has come....please this way," with the flourish of his arm, he motioned a path through his soldiers, pointing towards a man drawn carriage, as he turned, walking down the filed path, toward the carriage and opening the door. The line of soldiers, though they had no file arms, but only swords, they seemed to be highly disciplined, nothing to take lightly of. "Discuss this and drink, meet HonorableKiento Mase, yes" the diplomat said, waiting for the man, to take him in the carriage, and up the path toward Souhena, the Capital of Shinshouhen.

Along the path, onlookers would look, several man with swords, most likely soldiers, standing in front of them. Little children looked on in curiosity on their mother's shoulders, as they saw the unfamiliar man. "Mommy, those men look weird," said a young boy, the mother nodding, "But you should not be rude to others, even if they are different." She bowed, as well as others, in respect. It may of seemed like inferiority to the Kriegos, but it was a strong bond, between the sword, spirit, mind, that all the Shinshouhen shared. This was a meeting of equals, not a meeting of a weakling wishing help.

Heatherwood was not quite sure how to interpret the strange ways of the man before him, however, he understood the motion to the crude man drawn cart, hiding a contemptuous grin and doing his best to be humble to the polite, if quaint man. A problem presented itself to the old colonel and he felt it best to voice the issue before it was too late. Taking a moment longer to take in the tropical environment around him, Heatherwood could not help but release his grin, albeit not with the original contempt he had intended; the place really was a sight to behold.

“Well, thank you for the transport but what of my men? I shan’t travel without them.”

The call of birds was melodious on Heatherwood’s ears, the old man let himself be soothed by the distant noises of the ocean, the salt tinged wind and the swaying of the trees. Anything to distance himself from the hard task of diplomacy.

The Shinshouhen diplomat turned back to the man. He gave a grin, as he turned back and walked towards him, respecting him for what he just said. One should never leave their man behind, whether they are dead or alive, "I understand," said the diplomat in a Shinshouhen accent, bowing slightly, and then turning to his men, nodding at them, as they formed a line, "It is not far from Souhena, we walk with men, yes?" he asked, as he looked back at the man in a kind manner. It was true, the country was a sight to behold, even if this was but just the docks of it. The coastal lands of the country were filled with tropical wild life, as the regions further within were covered with Red Terraf trees, as well as green christmas like trees. Red Terraf trees were similar to the official "christmas" tree (though they do not celebrate christmas, I do not know the official name of the tree), except that the coloration was red instead of green, and the bark and actual wood of the tree incredibly strong, stronger than oak, and similar to bamboo.

The Shinshoumen soldiers made way for the Kriegos man and his soldiers, accompanying them and keeping an eye on them as they walk. Even though this was a peaceful meeting, there were still thoughts of being betrayed, since the Shinshouhen had for a long time kept alone in the world, and only fought in their own civil wars, and other disputes. Hopefully the respectful Shinshouhen Diplomat was not the last of the people who would respect the Kriegos men. Such respect, especially for warriors, is almost universal to the Shinshouhen. Even if you knew the person who killed your brother , you would respect what they did, as they served for their family, and for their beliefs, just as your brother did for yours. The Shinshouhen culture was truely deep...and it would take time for others to understand and acknowledge it.