NationStates Jolt Archive

Mae govannen and ya'grazaka n'ya atrakit.

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Dear Sir or Maddam,

It is with great pleasure that the Republic of the Jade Star extends an invitation to you or, should you so choose, a duely appointed representative, to attend a special political confrence to be held in our embassy in the nation of Altanar.
Sadly, due to circumstances which you are perhaps aware of, the current territory of the Republic surrounded by a blockade, making entry and egress very difficult tasks under even the best of circumstances, as the forces opposing us have shown no particular interest in negotiation and are unwilling to allow diplomatic access to our shores.
However, such things are best left for discussion in a more direct manner, and as such we have elected to hold this confrence in the only fully established embassy of our Republic capable of catering to the needs of a large number of guests.

In any case, we ask that any delegates limit their entourage to a maximum of ten others, including guards. You may rest assured that the embassy is quite secure and that Altanar is a peaceful nation, well removed from the current conflict facing our Republic.

We look forward to your attendance, although I myself will unfourtunatly not be able to attend, the ambassadors will be most pleased to assist you with any enquiries you may have as to this letter, its contents or our nation.

Minister Elandil Rushwood, the Republic of the Jade Star

The Jade Star embassy had certainly been of some assistance to the local economy in Altanar. It had, for one, exhausted the stocks of nearly every caterer within a ten mile radius, and then had snapped up the decorators, as well as a large amount of various labourers.
Before long the embassy grounds were a sight to behold. The embassy building itself had received a new coat of paint, and the grounds were now split between a small forest which had sprung up in the course of a week (some might attribute this to Elven magic (which doesnt exist), but others, with a far keener eye, might note that a nice thick gold bar waved under the right nose is far more reliable than magic of any sort), and a slightly raised platform bedecked with a selection of chairs, tables and the other nessecities of fine dining.
The pathway stretching from the embassy gate and around the yard had been torn out and replaced with what appeared to be a solid sheet of quartz, which caught any light nearby and cast it back as a soft, white glow, making the embassy a sight to see on a clear night. A fountain at the junction of the paths to the embassy door and the gardens fed a number of small streams which made their way down the edges of the path itself.
The embassy guards had also broken out their ceremonial gear, which was stereotypical Elvish because Elves in stanard human uniforms with assault rifles were off-putting to some guests. Instead they donned a white robe with a bronze breast plate, a ridiculously impractical helmet, and a spear. Of course, the breastplates also held easy-access holsters for the pistols the guards carried at all times, and the spears were quite accurate up to about ten yards away, but nobody needed to know this.
Both the ambassadors were clad in suits. An Elf looks fine in a suit, especially Belda, who did his best to look human most of the time, wearing his hair short and covering his ears in some manner.
Unfourtunatly N'nrk was not so lucky. Goblins dont look good in much, to a human. But N'nrk was making an effort at the least. He had shaved the stubble on his head and taken a bath, but there was nothing to be done about his slouch or his height, at three foot eight he was rather tall for a Goblin, but most humans had difficulty speaking to him for extended periods. One time a contractor had even wandered off while he was in the middle of a sentence.
Still, he was somewhat luckier than the only troll present, who gave the impression of a large rock with a good tailor.

(OOC:
Feel free to just walk in. Tedious 'rings the doorbell' posts get in the way of the fun. :P)

(>_>)

"Well that was tough." Subaru said to her guards.

"Sorry Ma'am, I thought we could get through easier."

"Do we know why this nation is under blockade?"

"No your highness."

"That's fine."

The door opend and they were shown in.


Subaru walked down the hall into the Grand Confrence Room. "Good morning." She said

Belda bowed, "Ah, greetings and welcome to our humble embassy."

"Ursh'a kora'ju rasz-" The Goblin started, before a look from Belda caused him to wince slightly, "Errr, 'Ello. I'ses N'nrk Twisted Spear, delly-gate fer da non-humanzzz o' da Ree-public o' da Jade Star." He spoke haltingly, somewhat like someone who had spent long and painful hours wrapping his vocal chords around a language he loathed dearly.

"And I am Rhunedhel Belda, here representing the interests of the humanoids of our fair nation. Please, make yourselves at home."

At this point a hand roughly the size of a small car descended from the space above the group. Secured to this hand via copious amounts of duct tape was what appeared to be a folding table with the legs retracted, and on this table was a wide selection of drinks and 'diplomatic' food.

"That would be Flint. He voluntiered for this." The troll's mouth split into a grin as wide as a man lying down, displaying an array of very shiney teeth.
Contrary to popular opinion, trolls do not smell, or have horrible breath. As their diet consists mostly of rocks, there isnt much for humans to smell.

"So I see. Thank you. I'm Princess Subaru Akoowa, from Aqua Anu."

"We are, of course, pleased to meet you. Refreshments are avalible as you please, for now we are awaiting the arrival of other delegates."

"Hey bro?"
"If it isn't my most annoying sister. What do you want?"
"Would you be interested in attending a diplo-party for me?"
"Dad'll be annoyed at foisting it off on me, and for a date?"
"Pleeeeease?"
"Fine."

***************

A few hours later a young man with entourage disembarked from the aircraft that had gotten them there. None of them were visibly armed, but that didn't mean much in the scheme of things. Weapons were, afterall, remarkably easy to conceal.

The immaculate, midnight blue vest with the burning, almost blood, red undershirt suited him quite well while the other three wore tailored suits of various somber hues.

The three Siapians approached the embassy on foot. Typical of Siapians, they were dressed humbly, with three piece suits in dark colors. Two men had open colors, and one man had a black button on his red shirt in place of a tie.

The man leading the two others was T. Corbett Chaunier. He was old, but appeared to be at least ten years younger, and despite his loose clothing, his immense physical strength was stillvisible. Yet, his persona was not intimidating He was flanked by his secretary (interning from the Lombard school of Public Service) Michael DeLargo who appeard both excited and nervous. He was tall and lanky and was trying to keep up with Chaunier. Behind them walked a completely silent and stone-faced Tyler Lee. He was in his late twenties and all of his mannerisms did nothing to draw attention to himself.

"Lee, what do we have on these people?"

"Well, they are non-humans, embroiled in a conflict that leaves their home blockaded and intel has nothing else."

Chaunier grunted. "Tell your boss I want to be better briefed next time."

The three men were led into the embassy.

The Altanari delegation arrived at the front of the new Jade Star embassy. "Wow, they have certainly done a lot with the place. How beautiful," Jala Gerinath, the Altanari ambassador to the Jade Star, said as they walked to the front.

"They do have a way with buildings, don't they?" her assistant, Merik Cerivan, said as they were shown into the embassy.

Both Belda and N'nrk moved through the newly arrived crowd of guests, extending hands and generally doing a good job of impersonating human customs, although Belda had a tendancy to speak too quickly and N'nrk had been forced to adopt a translator to speak for him.

---

Before long the Theao diplomat found himself accosted by a man standing on one of the tables. He was particularly noticable, however, due to the fact that he was six inches tall and had been leaning against the base of an ice sculpture. His precise ethnicity was indeterminate, due to the fact that all of his visible skin was covered in blue tatooing. He did, however, possess a head of shockingly red hair, as well as a healthy beard. At his side was clasped what appeared to be needle of some sort, and he was holding a turkey leg about the same size as himself.

"Oy! Bigjobs! Doon 'ere!" The tiny figure waved to the young Theao, "'R you th' wee big la' fra' Thea'a?"

---

There was a brief incident when two Orkish delegates began to exchange blows just inside the embassies main gate, but political 'issues' were averted by quick action from Belda, who explained that this was essentially Orkish sign language, really, it was quite an elegant method of communication if you cared to learn it. The Orks had looked emberassed, but once away from the center of attention had resumed whatever conversation they had been holding.

---

After the Ork incident was cleared up, Belda carefully manuvered his way through the crowds to the Altanar delegates, carefully selecting a drink from the troll's table as it glided by at shoulder-height.

"Ah, you.are.the Altanarian.ambassador, yes? Mr...Gerinath? I have been looking forward to meeting you.in person at.last, I.had.hoped to personally.welcome you, but the sudden arrive of so many.delegates, alas, prevented me from doing so. Please, accept my apologies on.the.matter, and allow.me.to make it up to you."

The Elf plucked another glass from a passing tray.

"A fine vintage, this. Goblin wine, aged to perfection and brought all.the.way.from Khar'barzak, their ancient capitol." The liquid in the glasses looked safe enough, although it was an opaque purple-green colour, "Made from a rare.species of subterranian.grape, you.see. No insects of any descirption involved, which.is.more.than I can say for their food." The Elf extended the glass.

---

N'nrk found himself faced with the unfourtunate prospect of conversing with humans. It wasnt that they were bad conversationalists, or that he was a racist, but the fact that Aldh Ghoblan and English were virtuall incompatable, translating one to the other practically requried a specialized schizoprhenia to acomplish. Aldh Ghoblan was generally based around the idea of getting a point across quickly and effeciently, being 'polite' was something Elves did.
As such a Goblin speaking English often sounded either increadibly stupid, or very, very rude. Their thick accents often did not assist them in aleviating this impression.
Thus, N'nrk had paired up with Geledor, who was perhaps the closest thing in the Elvish nation to a Goblino-phile. He was able to fluently and fluidly translate between Elvish, English and Aldh-Ghoblan, as well as communicate in a variety of other human languages, and recite all sixteen of the primary ritual death threats in Orkish.
However, instead of his usual shouting match with an Ork, Geledor had opted to seek out the Siapians, gods knew why. He was already barreling into his introduction.

"-and this is N'nrk." The Goblin bowed and muttered an Aldh-Ghoblan greeting, which Gelendor promptly translated, "'May you never be blown up by your own goblin bomb.'...thats sort of like a big grenade. You see they have this powder..."
N'nrk new he had to act fast. Gelendor was about to begin his expose on ancient Goblin warfare and, frankly, you didnt need the brains of a troll to determine that few humans would appreciate the fine art of flaying your enemies extremeties, coating their arms in a mixture of ground glass and fire ants, and then sewing the skin back together.
He spoke quickly, halting Gelendor at the Battle of Khark'Gol, which was fourtunatly a tame affair where the Goblins and Elves had managed to slaughter each other badly enough that nobody was in any mood for atrocities in the aftermath.
"'ey...'as you eva'...trie'd propa' Goblin food, mistah?" A fullsentence of English caused Gelendor some pause, enough to derail his train of thought, hopefully, the Goblin went on, "Dere'sa 'ole...table over dere."
The Goblin indicated what was, quite possibly, the most fortified table in the embassy, complete with skewers. Apparently several ambassadorial guards from various delegations had been lured over on a bet and were happily jabbing skewers at whatever the table contained.

“Sir,” Minister of Foreign Affairs Dr. Darius Wellington walked into the Premier’s office. It seemed to work almost like clockwork, thought Premier Quetzalcoatl Nochtli – almost as soon as he was about to leave the office, one of his top ministers would walk in. He quickly looked down and said to his wife, “Angie, I’m going to have to stay in the office a bit longer, a situation just came up.”

Premier Nochtli said good-bye and put down his phone – albeit clumsily as the chord got tangled in his long hair. The prim and proper English born Dr. Wellington contrasted greatly to the twenty-seven year old Aztec Premier and war veteran, but perhaps this contrast worked well for the administration. Quetzalcoatl Nochtli looked up and said, “Alright, what’s going on?”

Dr. Wellington sat down in front of the desk, “We’ve received a communiqué on a public channel about the formation of a new nation. Our intelligence knows very little of the nation, even it’s geography is somewhat of a mystery to our intelligence satellites.”

Always conscious about the socialist stigma many nations have, the Premier said, “Then we aren’t aware of the government structure and economic systems in place of this nation.”

The Foreign Affairs Minister took a drive of tea and said, “No sir, however, they report they are under blockade.”

“Blockade?” Asked the Premier sharply, “And how do you expect us to get involved with this nation if we can’t get in.”

The British doctor read over his reports and said, “It appears that they will be meeting in another nation that’s not blockaded.”

The Premier smiled and said, “Well, my friend, assemble your best, because I think it’s time that we take a little diplomatic adventure…”

A FEW DAYS LATER

Premier Quetzalcoatl Nochtli, Minister of Foreign Affairs Darius Wellington, M.D., Minister of Economics John Carter and three guards stepped out of their transportation and walked into the embassy. It was an impressive construct for a new nation – something that the ANL could not do in its initial days.

The Premier smiled and said seemingly randomly, “Optimism my friend. My only hope is that they’re somewhat more tolerant of socialists nations than many other nations.”

The six reached the main area where the others were around. However, when reaching the main conference area, all six were shocked – it had been the first time any single one of them had seen a goblin or any kind of being which inhabited this new nation.
Politely and keeping his composure, the Premier said, “Ah, greetings. My name is Quetzalcoatl Nochtli, Premier of the United Socialist Republic of the Aztec National League. On behalf of Aztlán, it’s a pleasure to meet you and make first contact with your nation and people.”

Michael turned to the voice, a little man with hair the colour of flame and speaking with a scottishy accent. Save for a few factors, he'd have been tempted to lable him as a fantasy style dwarf. The fact that he appeared to have a scaled sword did ensure that one of the prince's three guards would keep an eye on him.

"Yes, I'm the one from Theao. I'm Prince Michael, and you are?" He asked, thankful he'd had a scottish roommate to help with the similarity of accent.

The Altanari ambassador took the glass from Belda with a polite nod of thanks. "This certainly sounds like an interesting vintage. I look forward to introducing your people to some of our drinks here as well," she replied.

OOC: the Altanari ambassador is female, not male.

Ambassador Chaunier regarded the goblin with extreme practiced patience, pretending to be completely fascinated by what he was saying. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see what delicacies you have to offer." He stood up walking away patiently while Lee discretely slid between the troll and the ambassador. Chaunier silently prayed he wouldn't have to endure any more of that.

The two Orks glanced at the Aztec delegation, then at each other. A few blows were exchanged and one of them stepped forward, "'Ere, ain'choo der Oomie fella's dat cuss' up yer 'nemies 'n eat's 'em? I read dat inna book once." The Ork spoke the last sentence with evident pride, puffing his chest up slightly.

---

"Ach, O'im Wee Mad Bruce Feegle. You c'nna call me Mad." The Pictsie stuck out a hand, "Prince are ye? Gotta few a'those back a' en the Repoob'lic. Cannae think how they fit 'em all in." Mad paused, "Ach, we'res me 'ead. You wan'some?" The little blue man proffered the drumstick he was holding in his other hand.

---

"We certainly have a market for those in the Republic. The Pictsies will drink just about anything provided it will burn if you put a match to it." Belda gestured to a nearby table where a small group of said Pictsies were in deep conversation, "One of the hardest parts of organizing our army was keeping them and the Goblins from killing each other. Its not that they hate it each other, its just that they both like fighting so much. You would be amazed the number of wars theyve had in the past simply because one side was bored or didnt have enough to drink." Belda sighed, "Hopefully thats over now though. Of course, once this war is over we may have some issues, but we were considering forming a number of mercenary contractors, which should keep them from fighing in our own country, at least."

---

N'nrk raised an eyebrow and regarded the guard. So much for gratitude. Maybe he just didnt like Goblins. Gelendor was a bit shocked as well, but mostly from attempting to figure out what had just happened.

The Altanari ambassador smiled. "Believe it or not, I can understand where you're coming from. Here in Altanar, we had our own issues to resolve back in the past, as far as having different groups of people who didn't always get along. It took us a very long time to overcome that....sometimes we still haven't, unfortunately. But we've made great progress, and I am sure your peoples will do the same. We're willing to help with that, of course, however we can."

More delegates arrived, and Subaru began to get freindly. Introducing her self to the other delegates, doing the keys her mother taught her to good polotics and relations. Aqua Anu is one of the few to send a Royal to delegate business to others. She thanked when ever she was handed some form of refreshment.

Minister Chease Surreal had flown into the country just hours before and checked into one of the more expensive hotels in the area, and changed his suit. He had a limo drive him to the Jade Star embassy and he exited the vehicle. He stood on the sidewalk and straightened his suit. He pulled out a peice of paper,stating he was a minister from the United Commonwealth, from his inside pocket and appoached the door.

"It's good to meet you." Michael replied as he took Mad's hand in his. When Bruce Feegle offered him the food, he smiled slightly before replying, "I'm afraid my doctor's warned me off meat for the time being. Something about my digestion."

"So what brings you to this function Mad?"

"Ere, ain'choo der Oomie fella's dat cuss' up yer 'nemies 'n eat's 'em? I read dat inna book once."

The thick accent of the remaining ork made the language barrier for the Premier or the Economics Minister all the more difficult to overcome. However, the Foreign Affairs Minister, Dr. Wellington, who was British born could translate for them, even if he didn’t want to. In a worried tone, Dr. Wellington turned to the Premier and said, “Sir, he just asked, seemingly rhetorically, if we’re the same people that practiced human sacrifice and…” Dr. Wellington had difficulty finishing the translation.

“And what, Wellington?” Asked Premier Nochtli.

“…and practiced cannibalism.”

Quetzalcoatl was surprised to say in the least by the question – ‘that’s the first time that I’ve been asked that,’ he thought. Still maintaining his composure, the Premier simply replied, “Well, that was a tradition long ago that’s been abandoned by our people and prohibited. Human rights violations aren’t taken too lightly these days by the international community or the diverse population in Aztlán. However, we still employ harsh tactics at war – just not cannibalism and human sacrifice.”

Of course, this was all the official line – there were intermittent reports of these traditional sacrifices every so often. Most were deemed to be rumors started by the tabloids. But every couple of years, there is enough evidence in one case to get the Internal Security and Protection Agency, the ANL’s national police and domestic intelligence agency, on the investigation.

The Ork looked vaugly dissapointed, "Urrr, dat's good, 'cuz we iz all shiv'er'liz'd people 'ere. 'En'en dat roi'ght?" The Ork looked at his friend, "We sure din't chop sum bugga's leg's off 'n make 'im ea' 'em las' week. Nossir."

"Nope, 'cuz we're shiv'i'liz'd" The other Ork chimed in, "Din't use 'is 'ead fer a football after dat ei'der. 'Cuz da' basti'd 'ad ta go 'n...not shoot me. Inna foot. Err..."

Both of the Orks fiddled with their suits for a bit, then...

"So...how 'bout dis wea'der? Nuffin' like 'ome. Ain't 'ad a proppa funderstorm in WEEKS."

---

The Pictsie shrugged and said "Ah, suit yerself," prior to taking a rather large bite out of the drumstick.
"O'im ya' "Cul'cher'al ata'chee" 'r somefin' like tha'. Cor' nobody 'ere 's inna mood fer cult'chur. Ol' Bigjobs Belda e'en said we wasn' ta go drinkin' tae much, which's pract'cly cult'chural s'press-shun. Ann'e told us we wasn' tae do no fightin' or stealin' neiver."
Bruce grimmanced.
"So Oi ask'd 'im, "Well then Mist'r Bigjobs Ambas'ad'r, what 'r we s'posed tae do?", an' ya'know what'ee said tae me?"

---

The Delesian minister was immidiatly greeted by a Goblin, who sidled up to him with surpising speed.
"Joo'r from dat Delesia place, ya? Dey tol' me ta wait fer joo 'ere, dey wanna see ya n'side. You gettin' da ROYAL treatment." The Goblin gestured towards the embassy and indicated that the minister should follow him.

---

"As I said, we hope that mercenary work will keep our various peoples occupied outside of killing each other. And bring in some cash for our nation once we have established ourselves. For now, the Goblins and Pictsies are more than happy fighting the human government, although resistance has started to stiffen now that the Elseweyrian military has been fully activated."

"So what is your culture like, drinking, fighting and stealing aside?" Michael asked as even those bits were useful knowladge.

"What did she say to you?"

A lanky, dark haired man approached the embassy doors, wearing a dark trench coat. His black and white wingtip shoes clacked as he walked. He paused before the building.

"Ah... Diplomacy."

He took a swig from a silver flask, tucked it back into his pocket, and continued inside.

"Whoa!" Chase yelped as the goblin approached him. He, never in his life, had every seen one, frightened, he could help but cringe as he talked to him. But when he said royal treatment, Chase was all ears, and follow the goblin.

The Ork looked vaugly dissapointed, "Urrr, dat's good, 'cuz we iz all shiv'er'liz'd people 'ere. 'En'en dat roi'ght?" The Ork looked at his friend, "We sure din't chop sum bugga's leg's off 'n make 'im ea' 'em las' week. Nossir."

"Nope, 'cuz we're shiv'i'liz'd" The other Ork chimed in, "Din't use 'is 'ead fer a football after dat ei'der. 'Cuz da' basti'd 'ad ta go 'n...not shoot me. Inna foot. Err..."

Both of the Orks fiddled with their suits for a bit, then...

"So...how 'bout dis wea'der? Nuffin' like 'ome. Ain't 'ad a proppa funderstorm in WEEKS."

Dr. Wellington advanced and said politely, “Ah, yes, the weather. It’s stormier than what home. Although the ANL has vast tropical regions, the capital of the nation is rather dry weather wise. But, a little change is nice every once in a while, wouldn’t you say so?”

As Dr. Carter and Dr. Wellington tried to establish dialogue with the two orks, one of the guards and personal friend of the premier, Lt. Commander Xihuitl Ixtacin, came up behind Quetzalcoatl and said, “Sir, you have an update from Vice Premier Xoxoctic.”

The Premier quickly thanked Xihuitl and said to the group, “Pardon, but I need to take this call.”

Quetzalcoatl walked away and took Xihuitl’s mobile phone. Being military issue, it was a bit more rugged and had less consumer frills on it. Wanting this to be a quick call, Premier Nochtli looked at his watch to see what time it was and put this phone next to his hear.

Speaking in Nahuatl, the main indigenous language of the ANL, Quetzalcoatl responded “Nochtli here.”

Vice Premier Xoxoctic’s voice came through the other end of the line – “Ah, Quetzal, just to let you know, our envoy to the KLM has met with your friend, the Sultan…In addition, the Tlatocayotl Tlactli has issued a resolution approving of an embassy exchange with the Jade Star. The exchange offer will be initiated on Aztlán’s side of the deal with your authorization.”

Quetzalcoatl looked again at his watch, “Well, I’ll let you know soon if I authorize the exchange a bit later. I still want to find out more about this nation…Is that all for your update?”

“Yes sir, that’s all.”

Quetzalcoatl looked back at his hosts and fellow representatives. He could barely hear Dr. Wellington still talking about the weather. “Alright, then, if anything important comes up, let me know.”

He hung up and patted Xihuitl’s shoulder. Xihuitl, who was somewhat shorter than the Premier looked over. Wondering what his friend was thinking, he asked “So, what do you think of this nation?”

“Well, they’re an interesting people,” Xihuitl looked up, “I think if we do build an embassy, you better get some patient diplomats to be our envoy, though.”

Smiling, Quetzalcoatl nodded in agreement, gave back the phone and started to walk back to rejoin the orks and the two doctors.

Bruce snorted, "Wha' else is thar tae do? Ah'int nah pansy lit'ra'choorist 'r noofin. 'n tha' ba-...scu-...Elf sai' we was tae...tae...ach, blast, I cannae do this!" The Pictsie growled, before turning around and punching the ice sculpture, producing a sizeable dent and an impressive crack. "Tha's better. 'E said we was tae 'Hhhobnob', soom blo-...da-..." There was a pause, "Darn Elvish mumba jumbo if ya ask me."

---

Chase was quickly ushered into the embassy and escorted into a room on the second floor, where he was greeted by what was, possibly, an Elf.
Unlike most Elves calling this one 'surreal' or 'aloof' was not an option. It appeared as though somebody had tacked Elrond's head onto Vin Diesel's body. Throw in a military uniform of some sort and you have the general effect.
"General Gaenor Naewethe, Republican Army. You are Minister Surreal, yes?" Gaenor's voice was, suprisingly, Elvish in nature. Despite his heavy musculature he maintained the mellow speaking pattern of his fellows.

---

The Ork looked somewhat suprised, raising an eyebrow, "Wossa tropical? Iz dat where da big temple fingies are? Dey look'd like da Nob's cit'hies ova' in Orsimier."

"As I said, we hope that mercenary work will keep our various peoples occupied outside of killing each other. And bring in some cash for our nation once we have established ourselves. For now, the Goblins and Pictsies are more than happy fighting the human government, although resistance has started to stiffen now that the Elseweyrian military has been fully activated."

"It's unfortunate that these....Elseweyrians are so difficult. Is there no hope of negotiating with them?" Jala asked the elf.

"As a diplomate, he's second rate, at breaking things on the other hand..." Michael thought to himself as he watched Mad Bruce's demonstration.

"So you'd much prefere being just about anywhere but here?"

The Ork looked somewhat suprised, raising an eyebrow, "Wossa tropical? Iz dat where da big temple fingies are? Dey look'd like da Nob's cit'hies ova' in Orsimier."

It had been a long time since Dr. Wellington had to explain what a tropical forest was – not since he moved to what was then known as the Confederacy of Mexico in 1997. It seemed ironic to the doctor that something he and most people in the ANL were very well familiar with ended up being a bit difficult for an off the cuff explanation.

“Well, tropical areas are usually warm and very humid forests. There are indeed many temples in our tropical forests. Although many have been lost to time and the elements, the government has been able to preserve and restore many of them as well.” With the ork’s final comment finally registering in his mind, he asked, “You said that…the Nob’s have cities that look similar to ours? Who are these ‘Nob’s?”

Intrigued, Minister Carter asked as well, “Are they part of your nation or their own sovereign entity?”

Now Minister Surreal was just plain weirded out. He did not know that the Jade Stare Republic was so... multi-breed. He really didn't get out of his offie enough. This was a learning experiance. But he was not freaked out by the creatures sight. And the word creature didn't even cross his mind. He held out his hand, ready to accept the general's hand in response.

"Yes my name is Minister Chase Surreal. What can I do for you General?"

Belda shrugged, "All of our attempts at negotiation have been met with dead ambassadors, or pieces of them. Their heads, usually." He shrugged, "Of course, when you've seen the things most of us have been exposed to, such displays usually dont produce the desired effect. Everybody you see here is likely to have been tourtured at some point in their life."

---

"Aye, bless ye. Just aboot ainy'were els'd be greeat. They dragg'd us alla way oot 'ere just tae talk, Oi'd like tae be back'n Veruna roight now, tha' raid a few days ago, tha' was somefin' the Feegle's shoulda been apoort of."

---

The Ork shrugged, "Nob's is Nobs, dey're yer basic wanna-be humie, callin' 'emselves Orcs 'n wearin' humie clothes, doin' stuff wif 'lec'shuns instedda doin' what da biggest one tells 'em to. Buncha wierdies, the 'ole lot'o 'em. One of 'em de odder day tol' me dat paintin' fings red dont make 'em go fasta'. Buncha nonsense."

(Note for clarification, 'Orcs'/Nobs are the more 'civilized' Orcs, more like the ones from the Elder Scrolls games than from Warhammer.)

---

The general gestured to a chair before selecting one for himself, "We understand that your nation has generously provided us with a number of weapons, and we are greatful for that." The Elf stretched a leg out and used his boot to latch an ottoman and drag it into a position where he could prop his foot up on it. "However, we are running into another issue now. Our troops are, as you may know, all former slaves, with no combat experience past watching the previous military walk down the street. In short, we need training. A few of our units are vetrans at this sort of thing, but we need them on the lines doing the fighting, instead of teaching newbies how to fight."

"So what were you doing before you got drafted to serve in this conference?" Michael asked, "And excuse my ignorance but where is Veruna and who is the Feegle?"

Chase was caught off guard by the General. He was not authorized to anwser this kind of question, if this question were sent to him, he could forwatd it to the Armed Forces High Command. But he was in the middle of an Embassy far from any High Command.

"Excuse me General, but I am not authorized to anwser your question." He pulled out a government cell phone, "But I will give someone who can a call." He got up from his chair and walked over to the window, and started to dial the phone. He stood looking out the window, talking to the officer on the other side. Five minutes later he sat back down. "It seems that the High Command would like to help, but is going to have to ask the Prime Minister. To send soldiers into a danger zone, must get the Prime Minister's approval first. I should get a phone call back in half an hour. He's out at dinner with the King."

OOC: Sorry for my rather delayed response...Between fighting a cold and building a new computer, I haven't had much time for NS...which is a shame since the semester's beginning next week...

IC:

Still intrigued, Dr. Carter pressed on, "How well organized is your nation with its different cultures and such?"

The Premier also chimed in, "And how is this blockade affecting your nation in terms of economics?"