NationStates Jolt Archive

SECRET IC:
Holy Panooly - Northern sectors of the Lancaster Rainforest

"So what do we have" the local Baron asked his servant. "How much money? Gold, diamonds, oil...?" The servant looked at a old and crumpled piece of paper.
"Well milord, I think we don't have much money left. I mean, unless you have some gold left." He looked up at the Baron, with a kind of sadened look on his face. The dim glow of the fire danced around the room, a flickering light leaping.
"Now now, we have to pay the mercenaries and Wildmen one day or another. And gold is just the thing they want. Damn! If only we could get some Ducat Guilders, but that's out of the question now. I think we should do what we're best at."
"What is..?" the servant asked, a tone of curiosity was seeping in his question, and the way he looked.
"Terrorism of course!" the Baron shouted. "Profitable, fast cash and it's adventure." he added.
The servant was shocked quite a bit upon hearing this. He was probably thinking about small-scale drug smuggling, some hard stuff or cheap cigarettes filled with chemical substances to keep people addicted.
"Well, do we have any fanatical hunters of terrorist. I mean, people who know what they're doing?"
"Not really" the servant immediately replied. He knew all the terrorist hunters from the top of his head, the Baron would never think of questioning his integrity on the subject.
"So we don't have a dedicated nation eager to gain some respect by cuffing us? No by-the-book blockheads among their ranks?"
"Nope." A a smile of satisfaction made itself master of both men. The servant shambled away from the Baron, leaving him in peace.

A few hours later the last chunks of raw gold - and coins were shared among the mercenaries and Wildmen. Every single one of them did not fully trust the Baron, but since he was always honest about his escapades there was a very awkward kind of relation between them. Don't get me wrong, the Baron did not trust the soldiers at all. They needed each other, what you call a symbiotic relationship. The soldiers wanted battle, and the Baron needs soldiers for his battles. So, here we are. A safehaven for terrorists in the middle of the most inhospitable country in the world was growing fast. Muslim extremists, Christian fundementalists, GLA fighters, mercenaries, hitmen and other thugs joined the ranks of an army of bandits, thieves, pirates and other criminals.

This could not go unnoticed by the international community.

OOC: In this post there is violence. Don't be offended or whatever when you read this.

IC:
"Okay, what do we have here?" Dominic Templeton walked down the steps of his French colonial manor, built in 1899. He looked at the small group standing weak and frail near a large, raging bonfire in the night. Captain Bloomsburry stood besides them holding a double barrel shotgun. He tugged on the rope on which the prisoners were tied.
"Looks like som' kin' of socialist resistance group." Bloomsburry ushered while smoking his pipe. The thing was smoking like a furnace. Templeton continued to walk down the marble steps, allowed himself a few minutes pause to gaze at the perfectly clear night's sky. He continued walking down.
"Well, we don't like socialists or wannabe communists around here. I thought the purges of our esteemed fascist Führer did the trick oh-so long ago Hmmm?"
"Apparantl' not my good Sir" Bloomsburry replied swiftly. The look in his eyes was filled with malice, and a desire to inflict serious pain. If he was alone and a dog was in the room he was in, he'd kick it to death no doubt. There was a flame of hatred inside of him that could not be extinguished.
"Righ-t" Templeton muttered, speaking the t slowly while scratching his greasy har under his fur hat. "What shall we do with them? Got any suggestion my esteemed Captain?"
"Oh ye' I hav' my Sir" Bloomsburry took out a cat o' nine tails from a small chest someone brought and a small nod was enough to let Bloomsburry know he may flog them to death.

All of the soon-to-be-dead prisoners were tied to a long wooden pole, back facing the Captain, while he was preparing himself. He pulled the leather strings, practiced on a wooden board a couple of times and he began with the first. The lashes were long and hard, red lines of blood went deeper and deeper into the flesh. I won't go into detail, but after twenty strokes you could perform an open heart surgery. All of the prisoners shared this faith; if they did not die because of the flogging then the flesh eating bacteria would finish them off soon enough.
"You have it all on film my dear Bloomsburry?" The captain made a small movement with his hand meaning 'yes'.
"Good" Templeton continued "I'll make sure Mr Blair Munroe gets it to the civilized world. We'll see what happens then."

A message to worldleaders loathing terrorism

"Greetings my esteemed world leaders. Some of you might have heard of mine, others haven't. Allow me to spare your intelligence officers some hard labor and introduce myself. I am the Ringleader of a new terrorism organisation. We operate from a nation that was probably the most notorious back in the day when terrorism and terrorists rejoiced in holding the world in a state of permanent fear. Those days have passed, but our ways are not dead. We can revive our past, our ways and methods perfected.

Why are we doing this? For too long nations have annoyed us. Belittled us, patronized us. They have taken our land, butchered our people and stole what is rightfully ours. Stripped from our honor, we are looking for revenge. The communists and socialists around the world will pay in blood, the blood of their children. An associate of mine has taken the full length video of the happenings you are about to see abroad, but I will show you a small fragment..."

The screen turned dark, and the flogging of the suspected socialists were clearly visible. Blood gushed from the wounds onto the virgin green grass, splattering around as the flogging went on and on.

"...A small fragment, yet very apt to set an example we will not back down. We are not afraid of death for we have witnessed it as a daily occurance. Children are being raised with the stench of death in their noses. Now it is time to punish the self-serving socialists for spreading their evils around the world."

Communiqué terminated.

The Commandante asks what are the demands of this Organisation

Somewhere in the Panooly Jungle

"So a few commies want to know our demands? Now that we have established a relation built on trust and confidence with our video fragment it is reasonable to say." The Baron said to his accomplice. Send them a message written in the blood of the dead socialists. The man agreed and went off to gather the blood which was saved in a jar for such occasions. A letter was sent to Peopleita, and it said the following:

Dear commandante,

We appreciate your curiosity, it is always good to know what will cause your inevitable downfall. Therefore we have written this letter, and a copy of this letter will be sent to all other left-wing leaders should they have the guts to ask for it. Our demands are simple and aren't too surreal, and you will learn them the hard way. We will strike at any moment, when you think you're safe. We will hit you, and then when you see the blood of your people being washed away by a rain of filth you will know what our demands our. We want you to die.

[Signed], The Ringleader.

You don't scare us. From now on, no Panoolian citizen are to be allowed into Peopleita, and we would also point out that Peopleita is in the process of building Socialism, we aren't Communist, although we are allied with many Communists and support Communism.

IC:
Open Communiqué

"So, the fools of Peopleita think they are without fear. We think they are without honor for exposing their citizens to the dangers of Holy Panooly. Your borders may be closed from now on to citizens of Holy Panooly, but why have you forgotten about the cells already operating in your nation? We do not limit ourselves to the GLA, HLF or any other known terrorist organisation. No, we do not make a shred of difference between religious or financial motives, we seek to unite terrorists and bring terrorism to a new plane."

OOC: Mind if I RP a terrorist bombing? It's not very hard to enter your country. Just a couple of phony passports, a nice smile and a good looking man from the "west".

IC:
Open Communiqué

"So, the fools of Peopleita think they are without fear. We think they are without honor for exposing their citizens to the dangers of Holy Panooly. Your borders may be closed from now on to citizens of Holy Panooly, but why have you forgotten about the cells already operating in your nation? We do not limit ourselves to the GLA, HLF or any other known terrorist organisation. No, we do not make a shred of difference between religious or financial motives, we seek to unite terrorists and bring terrorism to a new plane."

OOC: Mind if I RP a terrorist bombing? It's not very hard to enter your country. Just a couple of phony passports, a nice smile and a good looking man from the "west".

OOC: We haven't got any borders, we're an island.

IC: We have planned ahead, all Panooly citizens have been deported. We are generally not a terrorist target, we pride ourselves on the fact that we have one of the highest Political freedoms in the world. We harbour many political prisoners, including fundamentalist Muslims, Christians, and Communsists. And we don't think that oppisite ideology terrorists will be to happy about you wanting to unite with them.

OOC: No, I'm a bit busy at the moment.