NationStates Jolt Archive

((A note: This is the Second Summit Meeting of the Central York Region, as is said in the title, and is to be kept strictly to those in the Central York Region. The Meeting is being held at the country of The Free Land of Raahd, in the capital city: The People's City. The People's Palace is a grand palace that is without a doubt, almost the entirety of the city, stretching for miles. To the Members of the Central York Region who are planning to attend the meeting specifically: please post an intro to your character as he or she meets Zedd Zorander at the door))

Tap tap tap.

It was the only sound in existence currently in the palace.

Tap tap tap.

Quite odd really, considering the usual commotion of people entering and leaving the palace of their own free will. But not today. Today was a special day, so unfortunately he had ordered the Palace temporarily closed (at least this part of the palace).

Tap tap tap, went his brown leather boots, the only thing that seemed misplaced for him. Before his appointment to the head of the Council of Religion, he would most certainly be seen walking around barefoot inside his own simple home. However, when he came to the palace, he seemed it only respectful that he shouldn't dirty up the floors with his nasty old feet. Everything else about him, however, was still quite the same. His wavy brown hair matched his simple brown robes, which he wore with great pleasure. As he walked, the end of the robes billowed out in the wind of his pace, as did the sleeves of the robes, which held each opposite hand in the other. His soft hazel eyes did nothing more but to match his handsome figure.

Smiling, Zeddicus Zu'l Zorander quietly made his way through the extravagant hallways towards the grand entrance. Taking the time, as he usually did, to allow his eyes to wander lovingly on the masterful artistry around him, Zedd knew that if there was a single more beautiful place on this earth, he had never even heard a whisper of it. Smiling, he came upon the open reception area behind the large doors, again taking his time to grace every tiny space around him with his vision. Intricate golden lines swerved masterfully across the stone white marble, which held not only lines of gold but of other amazing art work as well. The floor also was flourishing with not only gold but silver lines as well, several times forming graces of both types of elements in the ground (as did the walls in several distinct areas).

Unfortunately he knew that he couldn't take any longer to look around; the guests were arriving. He knew this, of course, because of the cameras. This Palace, although beautiful in every possible way on the outside, was exploding with technology on the inside. It was more for defense, really, should any army would foolishly decide to attack the heart of The Free Land of Raahd. Such foolishness. Zedd thought to himself as he pondered over when the idea of installing such technology first came about. Our people could never be attacked! He had told Nathan. It just didn't seem probable.

But despite his efforts to dislike such defensive technology, he couldn't help but grow quite fond of how the system worked. For example, he knew precisely when the guests would be arriving up the grand staircase (approximately two hundred steps to the front doors which is also another isolated defense for the Palace), as there were cameras well hidden at the bottom of it. Also, as he was just about to demonstrate, Zedd, with a wave of his hand to a tiny camera disguised on the wall, could signal the opening of the marvelous doors. And with that, the doors creaked as wheels in the walls turned with mighty effort, that which was used to make the opening to the palace.

The sunlight poured into the entrance, lighting up all the gold and silver, as well as the other extraordinary things of art. Zedd, in his simple brown robes, strode up a few paces, with his usual pleasant smile on his face. The first of the visitors were just coming up the staircase, and so he waited to greet them. It was such a marvelous day.

Dr. Immanuel Kane sat on the hard metal shelf in the Hunter Class Gunship. The Watchmen of course normally required no more. Armoured buttocks wouldn’t feel the padding anyway and it would have been unfitting to ask for some sort of special fitting. Glancing out of the window he saw the sleek, deadly form of a Falcon Class Fighter. Most planes looked ungainly on the ground, not these they looked as if in motion even while still. The best of House Egal had volunteered for this mission, these men were born on the wing.

Looking around the troop compartment of the Gunship, the Ambassador’s heart swelled with pride. His personal guard of fourteen, two from each Academy, in dress uniforms rather than full armour. This was a peaceful mission after all, each pair with the rune of their academy on their turned back cuffs, their collar and the fortress and key of the nation over their heart. Though non carried a visible weapon beyond the traditional Kukri knife they were an imposing sight, no one under 6’2” and well muscled. Then there were the six ‘technical assistants’, four communiqué officers from the Regulars of house Egal and of course his attaché. Amadeus Nix, his military attaché and Baroness Victoria Karneth his cultural attaché. He was probably one of the most dangerous men alive today, a slight unimposing man, often ill, but with a rare genius, she was whip slender with pale skin, flowing black hair and green eyes, dressed in a flowing green dress in stark contrast to the austere charcoal grey of the rest of the party. She did not seem even slightly phased by the bouncing ride and steel seat, but then she was Kaladori, complaint would be unfitting.

And where do I fit into this merry band? Clad in a black version of the Watchmen’s uniform edged with gold, as befitted his position in the Council and a dark purple sash with the fortress and key embroidered in gold upon it to represent his rank as Ambassador. The Kukri knife at his hip though was still the battered oak and worn leather that had adorned it when his father had given it to him so long ago. Looking at his reflection in the windows glass he saw an old man, the crown of his head bald the silver length of what remained falling to his broad shoulders, face adorned with liver spots and the wrinkled of age. His eyes were still clear though, his back still unbent and his arms still strong. Sixty years old and doing the work of younger men he though with a snort. No just as Lord Gideon had said, who better to speak for a nation than one of its founders?

As the approached the ‘Peoples City’ a name that stank of propaganda if ever he had heard one, the Falcons peeled away, they would be returning to the House Karnack’s pride and joy, The Relentless Pride, along with a few smaller ships who were one a quite different mission to the one he was on now, exploration far to the north. Still that was the prerogative of Lord Cade.

Rising from his seat as the neared the palace, ignoring the hand holds, he was not so old that he needed help balancing. As he advanced the front hatch of the gunship opened, below the cockpit. Slowly the ship lowered itself into one of the main squares of the ‘Peoples Palace’ such opulence, such waste. Stepping onto the ground a foot before the ship landed he strode towards the two hundred steps. His delegation behind him. Flanked by the attaché, Nix’s new uniform already looking slept in despite donning it only a few hours before.

At their approach, steps of course in perfect time, except of course the Baroness who glided as if she were floating. Behind the epic doors stood a man clad in simplicity, another blatant message, see me here in the midst of the wealth of my people and I am humble. Or was this a careful insult? You are worthy of only the lowliest of peons as a greeting, he doubted it, the Raahd were noted for wisdom not idiocy. Idly he wondered how the Free Land could afford all this.

“Greetings,” His deep and refined. “I am, Dr. Immanuel Kane, Member of the Council and Representative of Lord Gideon Maxwell, Lord of the Rock. Whom do I have the honour of addressing?”