NationStates Jolt Archive

”Sire, we’re approaching Urbus Doomanus. If Your Majesty would kindly assume the landing position…?”

Haakon VIII, King and Sovereign Ruler of the Realm of Cotland, Protector of the Faith, Defender of the Weak and a dozen other titles looked up from the semi-reclined leather chair and found the Air Force Colonel who normally piloted the luxurious royal aircraft standing near the door to the King’s personal quarters aboard the aircraft, a seriously modified B-10 Entajeik strategic supersonic bomber that resembled a Tu-160 Blackjack. The King nodded to the Colonel and raised the back of the chair to the standard position before he fastened the seatbelts that were hanging down the sides of the chair, all under the watchful eye of the Colonel. When the King was fastened in his seat, the Colonel bowed respectfully and returned to the cockpit. Urbus Doomanus was only a few minutes out.

For years, the Realm of Cotland had been almost non-existent in the world, with the only official moves having been made being various purchases at various storefronts, including the Doomingsland Defense Industries and the Imperial Aerospace Industries, leaving hundreds of billions of Universal Standard Dollars in the Doomani treasury over the years. However, now it was time for Cotland to step out from the dark cloak of isolationism and try to join the world community, and what better place to start than with a state visit to one of the most important trading partners?

The large aircraft throttled down from supersonic speeds, accompanied by its four FA 16 Priest escorts, and landed gently at the airport. The smooth landing was a true testament to the skill of the Cottish pilots, who were among the best the Royal Cottish Air Force could offer.

The royal aircraft, a pristine white-painted aircraft with a moderately-sized royal seal (http://img.nrk.no/img/533233.gif) painted onto the fuselage right next to the door, taxied over to the designated spot on the tarmac and powered down its four powerful engines, waiting for the Doomanis to make the next move.

Imperator Maximus III International Airport, Urbus Doomanus

A military airstrip within the vast airport, which occupied some of the only flatlands outside of Urbus Doomanus, had been set aside for the Cottish king. A vast host awaited him, for the Doomani were a people renowned for their hospitality to their friends, and their brutality to their foes. A red carpet was unfurled and a staircase was rolled up to the side of the aircraft. Flanking either end of the carpet were members of the Equites Augusta, Caesar's personal bodyguard: clad in sharpely polished gold-trimmed black ceremonial armor, they stood like statues, their faces (scarred from combat in service to their Imperator in many cases) set in stone. They also wore polished ceremonial helms (which bore the signature cheek guards found in Doomani combat helmets) which had red vertical crests.

Their shouldered DR-83M rifles were trained skyward, ceremonial 18" bayonets glistening in the sun. As King Haakon VIII stepped out of the aircraft's portal, a nearby band struck up the Cottish national anthem, and the at-arms Equites crisply saluted (their left arm moving horizontaly across their chest and crossing their rifle). At the end of the formation of Equites was their Centurion, whose helm bore a horizontal crest rather than a vertical one: he saluted the king with his drawn gladius.

Beside the formation was a full century of parked Imperator-II main battle tanks in grey and black parade colors, their commanders and drivers out of their hatches saluting in the typical Doomani stiff-arm fashion.

"Ave, rex. It is an honor to welcome you to Urbus Doomanus, sire," the Centurion spoke to the king in a booming voice in accented Cottish before sheathing his blade, prompting the other men to snap out of the salutes.

"Caesar awaits your arrival eagerly. If you will kindly follow me I shall show you to your car."

In the distance the looming goliath of Urbus Doomanus overlooked the airport, St. Michael's Cathedrael and the Citadel (their destination) both towering far above the rest of the city.

The first thing the Doomani honor guard saw when the door to the royal aircraft opened was a person clad in a black robe, similar to that found on Franciscan monks, with black webbing over the robes, wearing plain black leather gloves and carrying a Doomani-made DR-87 ASAC carbine in a non-threatening but guarded position. The person’s face could not be seen due to the hood concealing his face. The man's appearance helped to maintain the mystery that surrounded Kongshirden, the mysterious bodyguards of the Cottish Royal Family of one thousand years and renowned warriors, just like it was designed to do.

The warrior remained in the doorway until the staircase was rolled up to the aircraft, after which he proceeded down the staircase, followed by another warrior dressed and armed in exactly the same way. It wasn’t until they were down on the ground that the King appeared.

King Haakon VIII of Cotland was dressed in a plain but exquisite, tailor-made dark suit, with a silk shirt and a silk tie, and shoes hand-sown from the finest leather money could buy. On his right hand, he carried the solid golden ring with the unique ruby that had been passed down from King to King for the past seven hundred and fifty years – whoever wore the Ring of the Realm ruled the Realm, and his wedding ring on the left hand as per Cottish custom, but apart from that his appearance was a spartan one, just like the Cottish liked to appear.

The King lingered on top of the stairs for a moment, taking in the impressive sight before him. The honor guard was impressive, and never before had he been received by tanks on a state visit! Tanks waiting for you at the airport usually meant that something bad was about to happen. Had it not been for the display of honors the Doomanis displayed, he might even have worried for a second. Fortunately, he did not. In the second line of the Cottish national anthem, the King started descending the stairs, followed closely by two more warriors behind him. There were another eight still on the plane, along with the normal entourage of advisors, aides and adjutants.

Reaching the red carpet, the King walked down the row of Equites without hesitation, inspecting the honor guard with a trained eye – the King was the Supreme Warlord of the Realm after all – and he admired what he saw. These men struck him as being on the same page with his own warriors in Kongshirden, he thought as he and the bodyguard reached the end of the line of Equites. The two warriors in front separated to allow their King to face the Centurion.

The greeting from the Centurion was a mild surprise to the King. He hadn’t expected to be greeted in Cottish. Still, the surprise only put him off by half a second. The King nodded graciously to the Centurion as he followed him to the waiting car. Replying in Cottish, the King replied as they started walking, “Thank you Centurion. Lead the way.”

The King and his bodyguard followed the Centurion to the waiting car and got in while a pair of aides got into another car, carrying with them a rather heavy polished wooden box. The rest of the Cottish entourage would be sent to the place where the Cottish would be staying for the duration of the state visit.

It would be an interesting drive through town, the King thought as he sat back in the seat of the car. This was his first visit to the Doomani capital, and he looked forward to the sights he was to see on the drive to the Citadel.

The driver of the king's armored limo was an old Imperial Army veteran, one of Caesar's favored body guards, Prefect Gaius Claudius Cinna. He stood at a towering six foot five, yet his manner was gracious and sincere, bowing his head as he held the door open for the king and his bodyguard. He wore the dress uniform of an Imperial officer, a finely tailored gold-trimmed black uniform (bearing the insignia of a Legionary Prefect in this case) that seemed to be cluttered with all manner of medals and ribbons. Maximus had made sure to assign a highly decorated individual as the king's driver for the remainder of this trip, however, the primary reason that Cinna had been chosen was because he was one of a very few that knew how to speak Cottish within his household. Maximus himself would have to speak through a translator, unless Haakon was a Latin-speaker.

As the car pulled out of the airport, Cinna spoke in a pleasant tone to the Cottish king,

"This is Imperator Maximus III International Airport, sire. It is the largest such airport in the Imperium and occupies over one hundred square miles. It has over eight hundred terminals and even has Imperial Air Force hangers, as you yourself saw,"

Indeed, Haakon had disembarked at the Imperial Air Force's strip at IM3IA, as it was known to English-speakers and would have seen an entire squadron of Aquila air superiority fighters parked off to the side of the runway.

Driving through an ornate gate, Haakon would have noted that there was no traffic to speak of as they took the entrance ramp onto the highway. They appeared to be in the middle of a mountain range; indeed, Urbus Doomanus was seated at the center of Doomanum Superior, a region known for its harsh terrain. While most believed Doomanum was one massive desert this simply wasn't so, as evidenced by the hilly grasslands outside of the capital.

Taking an exit ramp before they pulled into the city itself, Cinna maneuvered the car onto the Via Doomana, the city's main road, which went straight through the breathtaking Southern Gate.

"This, Your Majesty, is the Southern Gate. It is the city's largest and most ornate gate," indeed, it was intricately carved with the images of saints and emperors, and even inlaid with gold and silver.

It stood at a staggering one hundred meters tall, and yet it was just barely taller than the ancient eighty-meter tall wall that surrounded Urbus Doomanus, still fully intact after two-thousand years of usage. Enourmous black banners were draped from the gate's towers, and on them was emblazoned the Crusader's Death's Head, the Imperator's personal seal. The towers of the gates were each crowned with a ten meter-tall golden cross. Indeed, Haakon was in a Christian country.

The tops of the walls were lined with Legionaries of the Eighth Legion, the capital's permenant garrison, clad in their ceremonial parade armor. They saluted the cars from the tops of the walls; as the car passed through the gate, the king would have seen formations of Imperial soldiers flanking the car, standing like statues, their officers saluting the passing vehicles with their swords. Their black and gold centuria standards stood above the heads of the men; the standard bearers even wore the traditional bearskin over their ceremonial armor.

"Those are men of the Eighth Legion. In nineteen seventy-two during the Successio, it was that unit that stormed the capital and liberated it from the Marxist oppressors and brought about the restoration of the Imperium. They have held the honorary position of the capital's permenant garrison ever since, and if I am not mistaken Caesar intends to take you to inspect the legion in full later today."

Passing through the gates the city's streets were wide and meticulously paved: buildings that were over two thousand years old stood on either side, many of them with electronic billboards. It was a bizzare amagulation of the ancient and the modern. On either side of the road stood cheering crowds and formations of Imperial Guard soldiers with their shimmering bayonets. Those soldiers were the city's actual police force, and stood in a long line on either side holding the crowd in, shoulder to shoulder. In the distance stood an enourmous triumphal arch some fifty meters high, and around that was a vast plaza littered with triumphal columns and tall statues of past emperors.

"This arch is Marius' Arch, the Caesar who brought about the Successio and the father of the current one. It was errected in '73 to commemorate the restoration of the Imperium..."

As they passed through it became highly obvious this wasn't some boring marble triumphal arch one would find in any other ancient city: this was an absolute work of art, intricately carved with images of the battles of the Successio as well as an inordinate amount of crosses and Labarums, generously inlaid with gold and silver. At the crest of the arch was the Crusader's Death's Head, carved entirely of gold, its eyes filled with silver as well as the Labarum on its forehead.

"...not terribly impressive compared to some of the city's larger archs," Cinna chuckled as they continued towards St. Michael's Square.

The driver of the king's armored limo was an old Imperial Army veteran, one of Caesar's favored body guards, Prefect Gaius Claudius Cinna. He stood at a towering six foot five, yet his manner was gracious and sincere, bowing his head as he held the door open for the king and his bodyguard. He wore the dress uniform of an Imperial officer, a finely tailored gold-trimmed black uniform (bearing the insignia of a Legionary Prefect in this case) that seemed to be cluttered with all manner of medals and ribbons. Maximus had made sure to assign a highly decorated individual as the king's driver for the remainder of this trip, however, the primary reason that Cinna had been chosen was because he was one of a very few that knew how to speak Cottish within his household. Maximus himself would have to speak through a translator, unless Haakon was a Latin-speaker.

As the car pulled out of the airport, Cinna spoke in a pleasant tone to the Cottish king,

"This is Imperator Maximus III International Airport, sire. It is the largest such airport in the Imperium and occupies over one hundred square miles. It has over eight hundred terminals and even has Imperial Air Force hangers, as you yourself saw,"

Indeed, Haakon had disembarked at the Imperial Air Force's strip at IM3IA, as it was known to English-speakers and would have seen an entire squadron of Aquila air superiority fighters parked off to the side of the runway.

Driving through an ornate gate, Haakon would have noted that there was no traffic to speak of as they took the entrance ramp onto the highway. They appeared to be in the middle of a mountain range; indeed, Urbus Doomanus was seated at the center of Doomanum Superior, a region known for its harsh terrain. While most believed Doomanum was one massive desert this simply wasn't so, as evidenced by the hilly grasslands outside of the capital.

Taking an exit ramp before they pulled into the city itself, Cinna maneuvered the car onto the Via Doomana, the city's main road, which went straight through the breathtaking Southern Gate.

"This, Your Majesty, is the Southern Gate. It is the city's largest and most ornate gate," indeed, it was intricately carved with the images of saints and emperors, and even inlaid with gold and silver.

It stood at a staggering one two hundred meters tall, and yet it was just barely taller than the ancient one hundred fifty-meter tall walls that surrounded Urbus Doomanus, still fully intact after two-thousand years of usage; even these appeared to shimmer in the sun, the walls themselves being encased in white marble and meticulously polished. Enourmous black banners were draped from the gate's towers, and on them was emblazoned the Crusader's Death's Head, the Imperator's personal seal. The towers of the gates were each crowned with a ten meter-tall golden cross. Indeed, Haakon was in a Christian country.

The tops of the walls were lined with Legionaries of the Eighth Legion, the capital's permenant garrison, clad in their ceremonial parade armor. They saluted the cars from the tops of the walls; as the car passed through the gate, the king would have seen formations of Imperial soldiers flanking the car, standing like statues, their officers saluting the passing vehicles with their swords. Their black and gold centuria standards stood above the heads of the men; the standard bearers even wore the traditional bearskin over their ceremonial armor.

"Those are men of the Eighth Legion. In nineteen seventy-two during the Successio, it was that unit that stormed the capital and liberated it from the Marxist oppressors and brought about the restoration of the Imperium. They have held the honorary position of the capital's permenant garrison ever since, and if I am not mistaken Caesar intends to take you to inspect the legion in full later today."

Passing through the gates the city's streets were wide and meticulously paved, and immaculately clean: buildings that were over two thousand years old (these ancient buildings being encased in marble, in most cases, if only to flaunt the city's wealth) stood on either side, many of them with electronic billboards. It was a bizzare amagulation of the ancient and the modern. On either side of the road stood cheering crowds and formations of Imperial Guard soldiers with their shimmering bayonets. Those soldiers were the city's actual police force, and stood in a long line on either side holding the crowd in, shoulder to shoulder. In the distance stood an enourmous triumphal arch some one hundred meters high, and around that was a vast plaza littered with triumphal columns and tall statues of past emperors.

"This arch is Marius' Arch, the Caesar who brought about the Successio and the father of the current one. It was errected in '75 to commemorate the restoration of the Imperium..."

As they passed through it became highly obvious this wasn't some boring marble triumphal arch one would find in any other ancient city: this was an absolute work of art, intricately carved with images of the battles of the Successio as well as an inordinate amount of crosses and Labarums, generously inlaid with gold and silver, brilliantly offsetting the black marble of which it was carved. At the crest of the arch was the Crusader's Death's Head, carved entirely of gold, its eyes filled with silver as well as the Labarum on its forehead.

"...not terribly impressive compared to some of the city's larger archs," Cinna chuckled as they continued towards St. Michael's Square.

”The Marius’ Arch is very impressive,” The King said as he watched the massive piece of art that the arch was, impressed with the sheer amount of craftsmanship and expense that had to be invested in the arch. “I understand that there are many of these arches in Urbus Doomanus. How many exactly? And how long is it until we reach the Citadel? After all, we shouldn’t keep Caesar waiting too long.”

"Three hudred and sixty-five triumphal arches exist within Urbus Doomanus, sire, the smallest being the Crematorian arch at twenty meters high, which incedentaly is also the oldest, and the newest arch, the Crusader's Arch, built in 2019 to celebrate our victory over the Questarian and Czardaian invaders, which stands at three hundred and ninety eight meters high," he said as they pulled into Saint Michael's Square, which appeared then to stretch on endlessly in all directions. Vast crowds of curious onlookers had assembled to see the Cottish king, and a vast sea of shimmering black and gold, some five-thousand Legionaries of the Eighth Legion, flanked the path of the motorcade; formations of Imperator-II tanks in parade colors with their barrels trained skyward were also formed amidst the legionaries, giving the appearence of a fully ready force. The blaring of hundreds of trumpets and horns and the thumbing of hundreds of drums could be heard just barely over the cheers of the vast crowds, numbering in the millions.

St. Michael's Square was home to the largest monuments in Urbus Doomanus: the Crusader's Arch (far more ornate than even Marius' Arch, if that were even possible), at the center of the square, was the most prominent, towering high above everything else; only a statue of Maximus which stood some two-hundred meters tall came close to it. That particular statue had been build in comemoration of the liberation of the Holy Land from Kahanistan, and for some three months a cage containing former president Valens of Kahanistan had been suspended from it in a final act of humiliation before he was shut away in some distant fortress-prison.

Maximus' statue was awe inspiring: the emperor stood in ceremonial armor, his right hand on the hilt of his sword (the blade of which was plated in silver) whose tip rested on the ground, and his left hand propping up an enourmous golden and silver crucifix. His armor was carved of finely polished black marble, his grim, regal face of bronze, and an enourmous red linen cape was draped from it.

Countless columns and arches stood artfully arranged about the square as well as other statues, and even the ground appeared to glimmer in the sunlight (slaves made sure to keep it well polished, and automobiles were generally prohibited except for special cases such as this); at the far end of the square was an enourmous, ornate white marble structure, its steps seeming to rise into the heavens, and its gigantic roof held up by columns of breathtaking side. Engraved in gold-inlaid lettering along the face of the roofslab of this fine example of Roman architecture were the words SENATVS POPVLVSQVE DOOMANVS: this was the senatorial building. Along the top of the roof were dozens of massive statues of angels, clad in armor and bearing arms, watching over the square. At the center, hanging from the roof, was an enourmous golden eagle, the symbol of the senate.

Near the senate, a kilometer and a half to the east and in full view of the motorcade was the Colleseum: it was simple five times the size of the one found in Rome, but otherwise appeared very similar, although with a more modern twist due to electronic billboards rounding the sides of the structure.

However, easily dwarfing all other structures in the city were the Citadel and St. Michael's Cathedral, west and east respectively. The Cathedral stood at a staggering one kilometer tall: its breathtaking extravagance seemed to spit on the comparitively puny structures in its shadow including the Papal Fortress which was physically attached to the cathedral, with only the Citadel standing in its way. Two miles to the west of the Cathedral, the Citadel was carved out of one of the twelve hills the city was build on, the majority of the citadel being within the hill itself: however, part of the structure rose high above the rest of the vast fortress, whose grounds stood at some ten square miles. It was said that the window of Caesar's study was directly adjacent to the cross that tipped the Cathedral; that said his study was easily one of the highest rooms in the Citadel.

It is said that the Citadel is a city within a city; it appeared that it very well could be so from the outside, with three visible succeeding layers of walls rising up to the the palace itself; on some sections of the wall gardens, chaples, and gun emplacements were visible, while others concealed what lay beyond. The car pulled through the main gate and onto a winding paved road that drove all around the fotress, passing through each of the three wall layers and the various barracks, armories, chapels, and slave quarters that lay in between. Draping from the polished marble-coated walls were countless banners: however, in this case the banners included the Cottish King's own alongside Caesar's.

Finally pulling to the final of the three wall layers, the king and his entourage disembarked from their cars to be greeted by an honor guard of Equites Augusta. They passed on foot through the third wall layer's main gate, which featured a fine carpeted floor and thick yet ornate steel doors: several machinegun nests were present in the gate's interior, and vents overhead betrayed the presence of poison gas dispensors. While it may be Caesar's home, it was also a fully functioning military fortress.

Of course in this case, the machineguns were trained towards the cieling and their crews saluting the passing king as he was lead into a vast courtyard. The garden of the courtyard was thick and precisely maintained; it was the pet project of Empress Elizibeth, Maximus' Praetonian wife, and boasted all manner of plants of birds from all corners of the world. Walking a hundred yards from the gate into the entrance of the Citadel itself, they stepped into a vast, ornate loby: everything within the room appeared to be inlaid with gold or silver, the floor as with much of the rest of the city being polished marble, and a dozen priceless paintings immediately came into view along the walls as well as several large scultures and statues. The dark mable walls were almost mirror-like. By now it had been explained to Haakon that there were several large marble quarries just a few miles outside of the city; it explained alot.

Haakon was greeted by a delegation, which beckoned him through a set of tall oaken doors through a long, intricately carved corridor, the sides of which were lined with frescos and paintings. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, branching off to the side in many areas. However, this delegation continued to the very end, to a second set of even larger oaken doors. These were swiftly thrown open, revealing a vast chamber. Appearing to stretch on in all directions, enourmous columns seemed to reach into the heavens, and finally, after the long journey, Caesar's throne at the other side of the chamber. A herald called out the King's arrival to those assembled and trumpets blared; a red carpet lay before Haakon's path, and on either side his path was flanked by honor guards. On the other side of the honor guards were hundreds of courtiers: the wealthiest citzens of the Imperium, generals, CEOs, senators, and their wives and families. All had been arrayed to give the Cottish king a warm reception.

Haakon came within fifty feet of Maximus before he rose to his feet and stepped down from the elevated marble platform upon which it was built.

He was a tall, formiddable man: a large albeit very neatly kept beard beard as black as night and an eyepatch over his left eye, his tan skin was scarred in several places. He did not smile, however his facial expression was far from malevolent, rather it was respectful towards his esteemed guest. Clad in his signature black ceremonial armor, he extended a hand towards his guest,

"Welcome to my home, King Haakon," Maximus' deep, earthy voice called out in a pleasant tone.

”I am honored, Maximus Caesar,” King Haakon said in somewhat accented Latin - apart from his native Cottish tounge, the King spoke English, Latin and some Russian - as he accepted the hand offered and shook it firmly, his eyes never straying from Maximus. “…to be a guest in your beautiful home. Please, accept this humble gift as a symbol of my friendship and gratitude of this most generous welcome I have received.”

The King released the grip and motioned for an aide in the backgroup, who immediately approached Maximus carrying a polished wooden box with the Royal Seal of Cotland beautifully carved into the top of the box’s lid. The aide bowed his head in respect as he presented the box to Caesar.

When Caesar opened the lid, he would find a Cottish battleaxe (http://www.trgear.com/osc/eshop/images/battleaxeII_lg.jpg) resting on red velvet. The battleaxe, a standard issue weapon for the Cottish since before the establishment of the Realm in the Year of our Lord 957 (and allegedly a hit with the Doomani Inquisition for torture purposes, though these rumors had not been confirmed nor denied), was made out of solid gold with a titanium core. The axe had countless diamond inlays, with the bottom of the handle fitted with a large and priceless ruby. It truly was a weapon worthy of both a warrior and a king, two titles Maximus most certainly possessed.

The King waited to see how Maximus reacted to the “humble” gift, a friendly smile resting on his lips.