NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC:Read the stickies...talked to my friends on NS...here goes!

IC:

"There is no God but God, and Muhammed is his prophet."

The words rang like bells inside the kneeling man's head. His eyes were closed, his body in a single position, his forehead touching the ground. He was dressed in formal robes, the traditional clothes of an imam, for his people called him so. He muttered silently to himself, Sura 1:2, Sura 1:3, Sura 1:4. Sura 2:1 sped through his head for the first time, the words coming alive around him. “All praise is due to God alone, the Sustainer of all the worlds…Guide us the straight way – the way of those upon whom Thou hast bestowed Thy blessings, not of those who have been condemned, nor of those who go astray!”


Outside, dawn was just beginning to appear over the horizon. The great mosque called the Mosque of Light by foreigners and guide books, was surrounded by a dusty open square. Thousands upon thousands kneeled for the first prayers of the day, their silk clothes touching the ground, dust swirling around them. In single motion, their mouths opened and closed at will, their voices invoking prayers to Allah in unison.

"There is no God but God, and Muhammed is his prophet."

The man inside the mosque rose, his bare feet making no noise upon the stone tiles. Intricate mosaics were obvious upon the perfectly flat stone, mosaics which would have taken years to create. Carved into the walls of the Mosque of Light were geometric patterns, six and seven sided figues, lines, and circiles, but with pure skill into the wall. Gold and silver filled in the cracks, showing wealth, and reflecting back what little sunlight there was tenfold.

The prayers had finished. In the square, thousands rose simultaniously, exchanging glances of recognition before turning to face the single balcony above them. It was the lone part of the domed mosque which could be seen. Spires and towers of the city rose above them, but the flat wall was all that was there of the mosque; all but a single balcony. It was carved out of stone, with a stone railing and miniature stone pillars upon it. No metal gleamed there, just granite sheathed in marble. But it was magnificent.

"There is no God but God and Muhammed is his prophet."

The single man reached the balcony and faced the crowd. Each person in the crowd stared up at him expectantly, their faces full of admiration. The polished walls of the mosque cast a strange lighting upon the scene, with it only dawn, and it seemed, almost, that he was an agent of Allah's might, if it were not henious to even think so. Words ran through the man's head, words from his holy book, from the prophets. Then he raised his hands.

"Allah Akbar!" he roared. And the crowd roared it back to him, in a tumultous uproar.

OOC: Excellent writing! But I am unsure what the situation here is. Is this an invitation for diplomatic relations? If this could be made clear, you should become an excellent RPer.

OOC:Thanks so much! Actually, it's a bit of an intro, it'll get going in another few posts or so.

Three men sat around a table, their faces grave with concern. They each bore an expression of either total dismay, or painful, yet humourous, submission. They did not look at the spread map on the table, nor at the freshly made grape juice in the table. Each looked out the broad window onto the street that was framed by light. They shook their heads, all except for one man, the one with the "painful, yet humourous, submission" expression on his face.

The object of their dismay was children, innocent beings who were kicking a ball of rags around on the ground. The ball was mucky and dirty, yet each child had an expression of beaming joy on his/her face. Two sticks stuck upright into the ground served as goals, with a child with a wad of rags stuck to his hand at each end. It was obvious to see what they were doing, playing an elementary version of a game called "soccer" in some countries and "football" in others.

"Look at those poor children." began the man who seemed to be different from the others. "Look at them. Do you see what I see?" He idly picked up an apple from his silver platter and put it in his mouth, sighing approvingly. It was late spring, the perfect time for apples, and the sweet juice of a ripe green variaty trickled down his cheek. He daintily took a lace hankerchief and wiped it away.

"No, what do you see?" One of the other men glared at the first man. He grabbed the apple away from him and tossed it out the window. "Enough of your airs and your nonsense! I would like to hear something substantial and real!" Grabbing the shutters of the window, he slammed it shut, causing a little swirl of dust, and several children to look over, then to return to their game.

"Poverty, race, religion. Issues. We have to solve them." The man took a second apple, but did not munch it. Instead, he placed it on his palm. "This is Fatimabad. Look, here we are." He pretended to point at a stop. "This is how we are now." He folded the apple in his arms. "But, if we were open to the world." He bit into it, nodding approvinly, before conintuing. "Foreigners would flood in! And poverty would leave."

"So, we should open our country to foreigners?" The third man asked. The first man nodded, then tossed his apple out the window. "Our people will surely benefit. They are so poor and weak now...I can bet, those children are munching on the two apples we threw into the street!" All three men smiled approvingly. And so, messages were sent to foreign governments, asking for diplomatic relations.

And the two apples lay in the dust on the street, uneaten, and untouched.

OOC:Read the stickies...talked to my friends on NS...here goes!

IC:

"There is no God but God, and Muhammed is his prophet."

The words rang like bells inside the kneeling man's head. His eyes were closed, his body in a single position, his forehead touching the ground. He was dressed in formal robes, the traditional clothes of an imam, for his people called him so. He muttered silently to himself, Sura 1:2, Sura 1:3, Sura 1:4. Sura 2:1 sped through his head for the first time, the words coming alive around him. “All praise is due to God alone, the Sustainer of all the worlds…Guide us the straight way – the way of those upon whom Thou hast bestowed Thy blessings, not of those who have been condemned, nor of those who go astray!”


Outside, dawn was just beginning to appear over the horizon. The great mosque called the Mosque of Light by foreigners and guide books, was surrounded by a dusty open square. Thousands upon thousands kneeled for the first prayers of the day, their silk clothes touching the ground, dust swirling around them. In single motion, their mouths opened and closed at will, their voices invoking prayers to Allah in unison.

"There is no God but God, and Muhammed is his prophet."

The man inside the mosque rose, his bare feet making no noise upon the stone tiles. Intricate mosaics were obvious upon the perfectly flat stone, mosaics which would have taken years to create. Carved into the walls of the Mosque of Light were geometric patterns, six and seven sided figues, lines, and circiles, but with pure skill into the wall. Gold and silver filled in the cracks, showing wealth, and reflecting back what little sunlight there was tenfold.

The prayers had finished. In the square, thousands rose simultaniously, exchanging glances of recognition before turning to face the single balcony above them. It was the lone part of the domed mosque which could be seen. Spires and towers of the city rose above them, but the flat wall was all that was there of the mosque; all but a single balcony. It was carved out of stone, with a stone railing and miniature stone pillars upon it. No metal gleamed there, just granite sheathed in marble. But it was magnificent.

"There is no God but God and Muhammed is his prophet."

The single man reached the balcony and faced the crowd. Each person in the crowd stared up at him expectantly, their faces full of admiration. The polished walls of the mosque cast a strange lighting upon the scene, with it only dawn, and it seemed, almost, that he was an agent of Allah's might, if it were not henious to even think so. Words ran through the man's head, words from his holy book, from the prophets. Then he raised his hands.

"Allah Akbar!" he roared. And the crowd roared it back to him, in a tumultous uproar.

OOC-Interesting nation with an excellently made post. If you are looking for diplomacy, I would be glad to open some up with you.

Message from the Community of Siap:

The Community officialy recognizes Fatimabad. We would like to open trade relations with your nation, and would like to discuss exchanging embassies.

OOC: @ Veragonia: Thanks. I'd be very interested in diplomatic relations.

IC:

A message was sent back.

We thanks the community of Siap and are intrested in opening diplomatic relations.

It was unsigned, but bore a postmark from Fatimabad.

As much as I hate to do this, I have no choice. Bump.

As your nation appears to be in need of a stimulation of the economy, we would like to donate two billion dollars to be spent in education, to benefit the economy, to create work for the impoverished (think CCC or PWA), or to otherwise provide relief.

A Message From The Socialist Sultanate Dutchydom of Franberry

Franebrry has always taken an interest in new player to the international stage, and we would like to extend the hand of friendship to Fatimabad. We recognize your country, and would like to exchange embassies with you. If this is done, we might be able to expand our bonds, and establish trade and miltiary deals. Fatimabad does not have to agree to anything that was said above, and the choice is yours. Shoudl you choose to reply, we await it.

For Glory!

Signed,
Castrando Kranavoich
Minister of External Affairs and International Commers

As your nation appears to be in need of a stimulation of the economy, we would like to donate two billion dollars to be spent in education, to benefit the economy, to create work for the impoverished (think CCC or PWA), or to otherwise provide relief.

There was no response from Fatimabad. Indeed, there was no acknowledgement that money had been sent. There was no way The Aeson could know what or who even was the government of Fatimabad, so it was unlikely that they would find anyone to criticise. But two billion dollars had to go somewhere...

A Message From The Socialist Sultanate Dutchydom of Franberry

Franebrry has always taken an interest in new player to the international stage, and we would like to extend the hand of friendship to Fatimabad. We recognize your country, and would like to exchange embassies with you. If this is done, we might be able to expand our bonds, and establish trade and miltiary deals. Fatimabad does not have to agree to anything that was said above, and the choice is yours. Shoudl you choose to reply, we await it.

For Glory!

Signed,
Castrando Kranavoich
Minister of External Affairs and International Commers

Ahh, a Sultanate. So the True Faith does thrive away from Fatimabad? If it is not rude, my one enquire whether you follow only the teachings of the Prophet or of the esteemed Ali as well? Your offers have been accepted with great joy.

Again, it was unsigned, but, again, it bore a postmark from Fatimabad.

Ahh, a Sultanate. So the True Faith does thrive away from Fatimabad? If it is not rude, my one enquire whether you follow only the teachings of the Prophet or of the esteemed Ali as well? Your offers have been accepted with great joy.

To this, Franberry sent a response, assuming the letter was from the goverment

A Message From The Socialist Sultanate Dutchydom of Franberry

Franebrry officially does not follow any one religion, the name is for traditional purposes, as long ago, The Sultanate and The Dutchydom united to form Franberry. The Socialist preffix was added after the Great Wars. Islam is the second-largest religion (23%) after Cristianity (34%). If Fatimabad agrees, we would liek to exchange envoys, so they choose sites for embassies, and set the foundations for future deals.

For Glory!

Signed,
Castrando Kranavoich
Minister of External Affairs and International Commers

There was no response from Fatimabad. Indeed, there was no acknowledgement that money had been sent. There was no way The Aeson could know what or who even was the government of Fatimabad, so it was unlikely that they would find anyone to criticise. But two billion dollars had to go somewhere...





Again, it was unsigned, but, again, it bore a postmark from Fatimabad.

OOC: Hey, I didn't send it... I just offered to.

OOC:To whom? You don't know anything about my nation, it's government, etc. I just went as if you'd given it without checking anything.

IC:

A reply, very much like the first, was sent to Franberry.

Ahh, you do not get my meaning. Are you Sunni or Shia? Also, your offers are accepted very easily.

The Emir of ALM invites the brethren of Fatimabad to join hands in a warm and peaceful relationship, despite our differences over the teachings. We hope to rise above petty quarrels and become friendly neighbors.

We send the Ambassador Umar al-Misri to your country, as a representative of our Emirate. If it well with you, we would ask permission in construction of an embassy that a mosque be placed at the center of the complex and room for 100 staff and 60 guards be available. We shall reciprocate like requests from your nation.

[ooc: I presume that you are Shia...]

The small nation of Hertopia would like to extend it's hand in supporting you nation. In an effort to combat poverty and exploitation I offer 30 million USD and 15 SCUD Missles. Of course, I do not tell you to use them, but in the case of any of the larger, richer, more powerful imperialist nations trying to destroy your developing nation for their own benefits I suggest you use them. Our ships are ready to deploy these goods if you agree. Do you, sir?

The Emir of ALM invites the brethren of Fatimabad to join hands in a warm and peaceful relationship, despite our differences over the teachings. We hope to rise above petty quarrels and become friendly neighbors.

We send the Ambassador Umar al-Misri to your country, as a representative of our Emirate. If it well with you, we would ask permission in construction of an embassy that a mosque be placed at the center of the complex and room for 100 staff and 60 guards be available. We shall reciprocate like requests from your nation.

[ooc: I presume that you are Shia...]

OOC:What else would I be, with the name "Fatimabad"?;)

IC:

Your offers are acceptable, Inshallam.

سورة البقرة



2:190: Fight in the cause of Allah those who fight you,
but do not transgress limits;
for Allah loveth not transgressors.

2:191: And slay them wherever ye catch them,
and turn them out from where they have Turned you out;
for tumult and oppression are worse than slaughter;
but fight them not at the Sacred Mosque,
unless they (first) fight you there;
but if they fight you, slay them.
Such is the reward of those who suppress faith.

2:192: But if they cease, Allah is Oft-forgiving, Most Merciful.

2:193: And fight them on until there is no more Tumult or oppression,
and there prevail justice and faith in Allah; but if they cease,
Let there be no hostility except to those who practice oppression.

The children claim that a white raven had startled them and dropped the vessel before the smallest mosque of the capital before taking wing and disappearing. It was oviously a jinn come to test the People. The children knew not what to do with the script save give it to the ummah.

It was a richly painted selection of ariahs from the Koran. The verses were written in silver ink upon the finest parchement. Within a day of it's discovery the illuminnated document mysteriously burst into fire and was reduced to nothing more than fine gray ashes.

ooc: :rolleyes: nice to see religion play a less evil role than most NSers seem to view the Holy. We will keep our lines open.

OOC:Apparently there has been a large growth in muslim nations in N.S. over the past few years. Well better than all the little Nazi wanna be's from summer 2004

IC:
To: Postmaster or equivliant of 'Fatimabad'
From: Outer Ministry, United Duchies
Subject: Odd Letter

We recently received a communication from 'Fatimabad'.
However, it appeared to be unsigned without any content beyond a request for diplomatic relations and a 'Fatimabad' postmark. As we have no idea who, or what runs the government of said nation, or even if said nation exsists, we have decided to ask that you, the postmaster (or senior operating offical of the 'Fatimabad' post office) please direct the inclosed letter to the appropriate individual.
If this is some kind of joke, please return the inclosed letter with a breif explination.

Thank You.



Salutations,
We are curious as to what the nature of 'Fatimabad' and to whom we should direct all future diplomatic corresponance.
Please direct any future dimplomatic correspondance to the Outer Ministry of the United Duchies, care of Preston Basketcase.

Thank You

Outer Ministry of the United Duchies,
Dead Letter Department



Actually the odds were running 3:1 that 'Fatimabad' was a hole in the wall post office somewhere in the Elburtz Mountains.

OOC: Actually, I am a Muslim, and a fairly devout one at that. I've always been very politically minded and a friend of mine (Yafor 2, you know him?) told me about NS. Looked interesting, but I never got time to start. Till now. So, there. Hertopia, you do not know who you are offering it to, how, etc. So, I'm not sure how to proceed that way. Not sure how to respond to Me Li, but here's a response to A&H.

IC:

It would be delivered, very easily as well. The postmaster to whom the strange foreign letter had been addressed to was well versed in such proceedures and immediately gave the letter to the imam. Several days later, a response arrived in Alcona and Hubris.

Fatimabad is a nation that believes in the True Faith. We follow the words of Allah, the Most Merciful, in all their forms. Nonetheless, we are open to others, to other faiths, and other peoples.

Would opening diplomatic contact be preferable to you?

ooc and a little IC:
Confused about how to respond to a Mad Hatter are you? :p Good. Confusion and misunderstandings are what I like to surround myself with. The letter was a properly cryptic note that appears from out of nowhere. You noted the white raven/crow allusion to the first bird of Noah?

The Melii adore the Sufis... and the Chan among the Sages. Among the others we like the Jinn of Islamic mythology, the Kami of the Japanese, and the prahoungs of SE Asia. A good joke is worth the effort. If you wish then you may consider us a Tribe of the Jinn. Have you read Surat Al-Jinn recently?

We do not call ourselves such things.

IC:
Lands of the Fatima

The Dominion of Me Li wishes to open a small consulate in your Foreign Devils District.

[Imperial Seal]

ooc: I just realized that your English translation of the first Surah is the exact same as mine :)

OOC:@ Me Li...you confuse me even more. :p
@ ALM; woah, maybe it's part of a world conspiricy. Headed by Wikipedia, which has the same translation as well.

IC:

This would be acceptable. What would this consulate entail?

Unfortunately, I have to do it again. Bump.

The Taldaani Foreign Office had not had to write a letter in some time. Communiques were usually sent in digital form, or at the very least by fax. Even so, the officials had managed to find the old official stationary, and so the white-enveloped letter was headed by the distinctive Taldaani Government letterhead.

Dear Sirs,

The Republic of Taldaan is happy to recognise your nation, and it is with pleasure that we observe your entry to the realm of international politics. May your people prosper.

So, to business. Although we hope you will forgive us, we are reluctant make major diplomatic commitments until we have made further deliberations. Even so, we would like to enquire as to the possibility of opening trade links with your nation, for example allowing Taldaani firms into your domestic markets. We would, of course, allow your nation's companies access to our markets in exchange, allowing both of our nations to benefit from mutual free trade. If this is acceptable, please reply.

Taldaan Foreign Ministry

From the Azhujurius of Jenrak

Interest strikes me. I have intrigued and at the same time under awe of your arrival on the international stage. If need be, I may be able to offer you military and economic assistance in return for a few hundred acres of land on which we may build our trading outpost towards your nation.

Saerus Annirak

Dear Sirs,

The Republic of Taldaan is happy to recognise your nation, and it is with pleasure that we observe your entry to the realm of international politics. May your people prosper.

So, to business. Although we hope you will forgive us, we are reluctant make major diplomatic commitments until we have made further deliberations. Even so, we would like to enquire as to the possibility of opening trade links with your nation, for example allowing Taldaani firms into your domestic markets. We would, of course, allow your nation's companies access to our markets in exchange, allowing both of our nations to benefit from mutual free trade. If this is acceptable, please reply.

Taldaan Foreign Ministry

The letter was rushed to the imam and was replied to in a short time.

Understandable and acceptable. Why not come to Fatimabad itself, to visit us?

A similar response was given to Jenrak.

The flight to Fatimabad had been a comfortable one, if a little long, and as the ambassador clattered down the mobile staircase clinging to the side of the chartered aeroplane he smoothed out his tie, slightly crumpled from the nap that the jolt of landing had interrupted. As he stepped on to the hot, dusty runway his aide followed him, carrying an overnight bag in each hand.

The ambassador pushed his dark glasses up away from his eyes and looked around as he walked. His first impression was that he was incredibly out of place. Standing on the airstrip in his tailored suit with his PDA poking out of the breast pocket, he stuck out a mile. The airport, although solid looking, was far smaller than the one he had left behind eleven hours ago. The whole setup reminded him of the old pictures in history books of what Taldaan had looked like in the fifties. Beyond the airport he could see the city, although the horizon was almost bare of skyscrapers. The most noticable feature was the scattering of minarets rising above the surrounding buildings. Making a mental note of everything he had seen, he headed towards the meeting place.


ooc: You want to just assume he gets to the meeting? I really don't want to describe every last metre of his journey.