Kirav
30-04-2008, 03:07
Outside of Kartika, Kirav
The air was damp and lukewarm on the tarmac of Kartika International Airport. Spring was slowly edging into the overcast marine forests of Kirav's east coast. Fyren Redwood, Secriatist of State, waited next to an electric limousine. He was waiting to recieve a British diplomat, a Sèr Edward Slith, with whom he was to discuss trade and other relations between the Empire and the Second United Kingdom.
Even after nine years in Kartika, he had still not adapted to the climate of the Southeast. He was what the people here called a "Mountain Man", a native of the mountainous and forested West. He was just about to take off his heavy formal cloak when he heard jet engines in the distance. He looked around, his gaze paralell to the runway, and saw the rapidly approaching dot of an airplane.
"The British are coming! The British are coming!" joked the driver. Redwood gave him an icy glare, "Funny as that was, if you say anything while Sèr Slith is within earshot, your next commission will be from the Sanitation Department, not the Diplomatic Transport Office."
The plane touched down and taxied towards where the limousine and the Secriatist were waiting. A groundcrewman extended a boarding stair to the plane's exit. Redwood straightened his cloak, and waited for the door to open.
The air was damp and lukewarm on the tarmac of Kartika International Airport. Spring was slowly edging into the overcast marine forests of Kirav's east coast. Fyren Redwood, Secriatist of State, waited next to an electric limousine. He was waiting to recieve a British diplomat, a Sèr Edward Slith, with whom he was to discuss trade and other relations between the Empire and the Second United Kingdom.
Even after nine years in Kartika, he had still not adapted to the climate of the Southeast. He was what the people here called a "Mountain Man", a native of the mountainous and forested West. He was just about to take off his heavy formal cloak when he heard jet engines in the distance. He looked around, his gaze paralell to the runway, and saw the rapidly approaching dot of an airplane.
"The British are coming! The British are coming!" joked the driver. Redwood gave him an icy glare, "Funny as that was, if you say anything while Sèr Slith is within earshot, your next commission will be from the Sanitation Department, not the Diplomatic Transport Office."
The plane touched down and taxied towards where the limousine and the Secriatist were waiting. A groundcrewman extended a boarding stair to the plane's exit. Redwood straightened his cloak, and waited for the door to open.