For The "Little Guy" (MT/NOCTUR ONLY)

by **Hadin** » Sat Apr 02, 2016 1:15 pm

TO: Dimetor Agathodaimonides Oinops of Demonlonde, Chief Executive Andrew Peterson of Varisea, Ráðsmaður Marý II of the Arthurian Federation
CC: Theanthê ê Myrs of Demonlonde, Deputy Executive Nikolai Ptyorych of Varisea
FROM: Vir Consilli Janis Kafka, Head of the Foreign Affairs Bureau, Lemont Dupree, Hadinian Ambassador to UNCA.
SUBJECT: An Invitation To Discuss International Relations
ENCRYPTION:Strong

Esteemed Heads of State and Government,

Noctur is in an abominable state of affairs on the international level. Wars are waged, tensions rise, and major nations such as Radiatia attempt to recklessly dominate the business of the rest of the world. In a time such as this, one can see that smaller and less influential nations such as ours are forced to face precarious situations.

I am sure that talk of the UNCA vs. "Nui-Ra" tensions across the globe have no doubt reached your populace. Given the ongoing wars in Higgins-Brown and Merrina, you may be thinking that political neutrality is the only viable option. I will first admit that I admire this stance. It is always good to see nations which hold such views, valuing their sovereignty, without wishing to be trampled on by the affairs of other nations.

Hadin was in a similar state just over 20 years ago, devastated by a war wrought by Nui-ta and Radiatia on Hadinian soil shortly before our independence from Nui-ta. Being subjected to colonization for so long, and then immediately being alienated by the rest of the world for having had to fight this war against grander military powers --- a war for our sovereignty, no less --- we know all too well what it means to be one such small nation.

In today's world situation, where the powers that be seek to increase their encroachment upon the rest of the world, standing alone is no longer an option. This is regrettable, but it is a truth that must be faced. It is to this end that, in alliance with Segland, Algrabad, and Ainotula, we have formed the United Nocturian Co-Operation Axis. You may know it as UNCA.

Contrary to what you may have been told thus far, UNCA is not a war-mongering group of socialists and barbarians. Although Hadin is undoubtedly the only non-socialistic state within the bunch, this should simply serve as proof that adherence to a socialistic policy is not what UNCA stands for. The economics of a state are the state's sovereign business, with UNCA's economic goals being the increasing of co-operation between its member nations to better serve the economies of all UNCA nations. Furthermore, the concept of nations looking out for their allies, towards an ideal of shared prosperity, is as far away from barbarism as I can imagine.

This is also where I will admittedly tackle the question of military involvement within UNCA. I recognize that there are some governments to whom this dispatch is addressed who maintain strict positions of neutrality in regards to the military.

In UNCA's formative days, where many of our member-nations were facing aggression from threats abroad, military co-operation was essential. In order to better tackle the threats of aggressors, we realized we had to band together. This is why the Algrabadi War swung so highly in the favor of the nation of Algrabad. Although Algrabad has always maintained a competent military force, over-aggression from the Higgins-Brownite government, which wished to usurp its way into the treaty-delineated "HB/Algrabadi Buffer Zone", needed greater handling to be properly put down. Algrabad maintained its competence in making the fine choice to ally with UNCA.

We now extend an opportunity for the nations of Demonlonde, Varisea, and Arthuria to do the same.

With understanding and sympathies towards government positions of armed neutrality, and the further understanding that not all nations wish to abide by the full economic and defense provisions of the Axis Treaty, but may otherwise be fully sympathetic towards UNCA, and be able to find sympathies extended towards them by the same, we now come to the purpose of this dispatch in offering two different diplomatic agreements, either of which may be chosen by your nations as befits the specific needs of your governments and your people.

The first option is the traditional route of full-membership into UNCA. This would entitle you to all benefits bestowed by UNCA nations under the Axis Treaty, including the relaxation of economic trade barriers between nations, a non-aggression pact, and a mutual defense treaty. Although we know that it is a lot to ask to agree to a mutual-defense clause, the practice of mutual protection is what has allowed UNCA to maintain the strength that protects it from threats. In the case of the government of Hadin, we know that we are well protected by Nui-tan aggression because we have such loyal allies to stand with us. Mutual protection is a deterrent well-worth the cost.

Understanding, of course, the reluctance of some nations, either by neutrality doctrines or by the understandable position of simply not wanting to jump head-first into so great a commitment, we would now like to introduce the second option.

The second option is a newer level of "provisional" or "observatory" status within UNCA, yielding the same economic benefits, while relaxing some of the military commitments. Rather than be held to a mutual-defense pact, provisional status expects only the signing of a non-aggression pact with the rest of UNCA. It requires no further commitment, and will allow nations with neutrality doctrine to comfortably pursue ties with UNCA, without further worry of breaking national commitments or ideology.

We hope that one of these two options will be found compatible with the development of your nations, as you venture into the greater workings of Nocturian global politics. As another "little government" amid the larger nations of Noctur, we fully sympathize with and wish your governments the best in this decision.

Further, we invite you to the capital city of Kopurauth, to meet with the Council of Patricians and further discuss any questions or concerns that you may have. In a time of war and uncertainty, let us seek greater co-operation and peace with those who have done us no harm.

May the graces of Septima shine upon you.

Janis Kafka
Vir Consilli, Head of the Foreign Affairs Bureau

Lemont Dupree
Ambassador to the United Nocturian Co-Operation Axis

by **Demonlonde** » Sun Apr 03, 2016 10:10 pm

TO: Vir Consilli Janis Kafka, Head of the Foreign Affairs Bureau; Lemont Dupree, Hadinian Ambassador to UNCA
FROM: Dimetor Agathodaimonides Oinops Pambasileus Sebastokrator

Respected Ministers,

Dimetor Agathodaimonides Oinops Pambasileus Sebastokrator greets you and bids you health, long life, and wisdom. It is with gratitude that we have received your communication, and having deliberated in the highest council of the Daimonikê Pambasileia as to the information therein, I am prepared to deliver you our response, which I now shall do.

In essence, your assessment of world affairs suggests a true understanding of the axioms of international politics -- polarization of such naturally creates the conditions for the manifestation of tensions and conflicts of arms, and these manifestations are especially precarious for nation-states which can expend but little in terms of human effort and various energetic quanta. The logic of your argument therefore rests on the implicit assertion that the UNCA potentiates the most effective maximization of expendable energy, via the subsidization of energy-poor nations by the energy-rich -- a quintessentially socialistic doctrine, though that in itself carries no negative connotations for us.

Our deviation would seem to be one of pragmatic philosophy. Whereas the Hadinian leadership enthusiastically endorses the prosecution of binarism -- we refer to statements recently made concerning opinions on war -- we understand such a stance as a misapprehension of certain essential structures of dependent-arising. In short, the UNCA's being rests upon a segment of reality that we perceive as illusory, and therefore, while wishing you and yours well, we apprehend our own fate as lying upon a separate, if parallel, path. If you desire elucidation concerning our doctrine, I would be pleased to send my representative to Kopurauth to provide further education.

Health and wisdom,

Dimêtor Agathodaimonides Oinops Pambasileus Sebastokrator

by **The Arthurian Isles** » Mon Apr 04, 2016 6:24 am

The Altinghusið is more than just a government building. It sits at the very centre of the capital and has become one of those buildings which has transcended its original purpose. It has drawn tourists and locals alike so that its immediate environs have developed into the social hub of a small but vibrant city. In a way, it has become one of Vestmanaeyjar's defining landmarks; it is immediately recognisable for its own unique architecture, but it has also lent importance to its surroundings. Behind its crumbled walls the city's lifeline, the Thjorsar river, flows confined between the limestone walls of the embankment reflecting the stonework such that a ribbon of white shines out from between the dark grey of old buildings. It is at this point of the river's course that it has split into two flows, the other running a few kilometres to the Altinghusið's south. Where they merge once more, the first of Vestmanaeyjar's two central islands is formed, the second lying not far downstream as the Thjorsar splits into two more bodies before reuniting into one and flowing out into the sea. These two islets, the westernmost to appear in the river's long course from Geldungur's north-east, mark the start of Vestmanaeyjar's story of growth into its present state. Aptly, therefore, they lend to the city its name¹.

On the other side of the Altinghusið, spreading before its facade, is Kurstoberjartrejplat - Cherry Tree Square. It was busy on this particular day. People of all sorts wandered through its paths or lay on its lawns beneath the cherry trees after which it was named. There were groups of businesspeople who, taking a break from their work, sat underneath the shade of the blossoms and chattered as though they had no offices to which to return. Next to them would be a young couple basking in the sun and taking comfort in one another's company. Beyond them students could be seen in a small circle, reading and scribbling as if the fresh air had given them a new vigour outside of the lecture halls. Dotted between these little clusters were individuals who appreciated the carefree surroundings and yet thrived in a space which displayed so much life. Surrounding the entire scene were three rows of shops positioned almost regularly with a café on either side. On a day like today, every one of those cafés had placed impromptu seating outside. The sound of conversation, of birdsong, of the wind, of distant traffic, of footfall, of music, all of it filled Kurstoberjartrejplat.

Above the square was a canopy of pale pink cherry blossoms. For most of the year these trees which filled the entire plaza were without leaves. To return in a month one would find only blackened trunks twisted in stiff resistance against the bitter wind blowing inland from the Antarctic. During these times the trees were easy to ignore - their dark forms blended perfectly with the harshness of the surrounding buildings. When the days too turned grey and the world seemed particularly miserable, the bleak sight of a leafless forest in the centre of the city did little to inspire joy. But in days such as this one, when spring was coming and new life was signalled, the cherry tree bloomed into the most beautiful of all things. The blossoms would erupt every year without warning until the sun could not be seen through their innumerable petals, and yet they did not block out the light so much as provide their own. The flowers were bright and warm in their own way. They were not like the cold and white edelweiss, a delicate and wonderful plant certainly, but a product of a rugged and altogether different world, devoid of colour and comfort. Nor were they like the bold pink flowers of the meadows, proud and overbearing. The cherry blossoms were perfectly balanced. They provided enough beauty to entrance those who looked upon them, but they did not overwhelm. That they are fated to be objects of attraction is evident, for when bloomed the flowers do not face towards the sun but look downwards instead, to the humans below.

That Kurstoberjartrejplat was abuzz was no surprise. For though their aesthetic value was renowned the life of a cherry blossom is a short thing. In a matter of weeks the unparalleled beauty found in each and every petal fades and, without even a sigh, drifts into the wind to be borne elsewhere. Perhaps their transience was to prove their most enduring attraction to Arthurians. Certainly the month from Veturfuldmanuður to Bloðmanuður was eagerly awaited for just this reason - it was the only time when this unique natural phenomenon could be seen, and in the Arthurian soul it awoke a small but determined flame of passion. For this plant left its greatest gift for those who would think in order to see it; if it could blossom for so short a time, and yet in that time shine with so radiant a light as become the embodiment of delight, then why could not a human? One deed was all that was needed, one chance for the flower to bloom. It was a perennial problem of the Arthurian heart.

Out of the mist of the early morning the sun had risen. It had dispelled the fog by the late morning so that by lunchtime the sky was a clear blue and the square was even more busy than was usual for the blossoming season. On these sorts of days it was natural to seek the outdoors, especially so for the workers of the Altinghusið. Half of the cafés around the square were filled with parliamentarians or civil servants talking about anything but politics. A steady stream of them had filtered out through the Alting's doors for the past half an hour, and by now the only ones leaving were the last few to have carried on working well into their afternoons.

One such person skipped gently down the steps onto the square. He had rolled up the sleeves of his thick winter jumper to accommodate for the sun, and let a satchel bounce loosely on the small of his back as he walked. He seemed to be relaxed, though it was hard to tell for his face was almost expressionless; though he was not smiling he showed no sign of a frown or grimace. He was heading almost diagonally to the other side of Kurstoberjartrejplat, not so much unaware of the people around him as uninterested. Around him was, in short, an aura of purposeful detachment which everyone seemed happy to leave be. Everyone but one.

Behind him by only a few metres was another of the Altinghusið's long-time occupants. She was dressed just as casually as he but looked to be far more energetic. Hers was a noticeable smile and, while he seemed to glide as he walked, she practically bounced. Before he was even halfway down the steps to Kurstoberjartrejplat she called out to him.

“Andri.”

He turned around, just in time to see the woman open her arms for a hug. They embraced without awkwardness, though Andri did not shed his emotional detachment. This simple interaction perhaps best represented the relationship between Andri Jonsen and Runær Arnardotar. The two were close friends but this was in spite of their vastly different personalities. Andri was calm, collected and cautious. He was by nature an introvert and though he did not display any social awkwardness he found it difficult to act warmly towards others. He was by no means cold or unwelcoming, but unless one knew him well enough to understand him, reading this man would prove a difficulty. Runær was not so detached. Her feelings were immediately evident, and they usually consisted of a happiness of conviction or, at worst, a deeply activist concern for others. While Andri's embrace had been one of greeting, Runær's had been a true hug, one which was indicative of the love she felt for her friend.

“Did you see the missive?” She asked.

“From the Hadinians? Ja.”

“And?”

"Vær førn jeger, mildur, ef jeg behøv hver seger."²

Runær chuckled. She had learned to appreciate Jonsen’s humour. His sarcasm was reflective of a deep-felt pessimism towards politics, particularly of the international kind with which he found himself dealing in most of his daily tasks. He was not a miserable man though. His company tended to be pleasant and his conversation enjoyable; as a man who put practical solutions ahead of ideal theories, his true fears manifested themselves in his cautious and well-measured solutions to the problems placed at his feet.

“Anyway, we in Defence are happy to stick with neutrality. I imagine you want to sign onto the Axis right away though, ja?” He joked.

“Laugh all you want Andri," came the retort, "but look around you." Runær gestured to the cherry trees, to the blossoms which were at this point holding strong onto their branches. "Have you never thought that were we to breathe new life into our foreign policy we may actually be able to bloom?"

He glanced over with a deliberate and intense look of scepticism. She continued, undeterred. "We have goals - Arthuria has goals. Neutrality has served some of them but it has killed others at birth. My Ministry is supposed to do more than keep us out of wars; we're supposed to be promoting an international legal system, protecting the global environment and eradicating poverty wherever it appears. Can you imagine a world in which we achieve those aims? It would be as beautiful as those blossoms."

"If you go down that road, your journey will be as brief as those blooms too." Andri replied. It was succinct, but from it Runær could infer all she needed to. The comment was indicative of the conservative thought that dominated Arthurian foreign policy: without neutrality Arthuria would lose its very sovereignty, discarded in favour of alliances with countries far more influential than it could hope to be.

Their walk had taken them across the square, almost directly opposite the Altinghusið, to a café which was only slightly less busy than the others nearby. Milða boasted not the chic of other establishments, nor the scores of waiters carrying expensive drinks on silver trays. Its tables and chairs were a mixture of old hand-me-downs, reclaimed from the skip but all the more attractive for it. More importantly, Andri and Runær knew the owner and could guarantee that they would be treated to the best traditional cooking in all of central Vestmanaeyjar. They say down on one of the tables just outside of the entrance, waiting for no more than a few seconds for a familiar face to greet them. She was a middle-aged woman, floating through the maze of tables like a bird in flight, somehow single-handedly serving all of her customers with the same levels of care and dedication.

“Sæl, how are we today?” The woman asked.

“Sæl, Milda. Jeg vær goten, tuk.” Runær replied. “Just a Bionad³ for me today.”

“Make that two, please Milda.” Andri smiled over.

Milda left the two of them alone. They sat together in silence for a minute, both staring out over Kurstoberjartrejplat. They had seen the sight countless times, but the blossoms never failed to elicit an admiring look and some deep thoughts. What the two were meditating over, no one but themselves knew. The moment faded all too quickly as Milda returned with their drinks.

“Tuk, Milda.” Andri said, nodding her goodbye.

“So, what do you think?” Runær inquired. Clearly she was not satisfied with his brief jibe.

“Tyr.”

"Tyr?" She repeated back to him. Tyr was one of the gods of Arthurian mythology. Taught to Arthurian children in the hope that some wisdom could be derived from them, the mythologies would have been fresh in Runær's mind. What Andri could be alluding to, however, she was not entirely sure. "Explain."

"When the gods were seeking to bind Fenrir," - a great, monstrous wolf - "they found themselves powerless to do so alone. So they sought the help of others. They asked the dwarves to forge an unbreakable ribbon, and this they did."

"Gleipnir." Runær interrupted.

"Yes, Gleipnir." He continued. "The dwarves proved useful, but the gods still needed assistance. Fenrir sensed their desires to see him chained and so refused to be bound by Gleipnir unless one of them would place their hand in his mouth. He wanted collateral; the gods needed bait. They asked Tyr, and he stepped up to the task. His right hand he placed in Fenrir's mouth. They bound the wolf. It struggled against Gleipnir, but its efforts proved futile. Fenrir tore Tyr's hand right off." Andri took a sip of his drink, glancing over Kurstoberjartrejplat. "So you see, we are not being asked to take an equal part in the plans of others. They are asking us to be collateral, to act as fodder - how could we be anything else, as small as we are."

He looked back at Runær, straight into her eyes. She was in thought, her lips pursed. He prompted her, "What are your thoughts?"

She responded, slowly at first, as though she was still forming her argument as she spoke. "You take an extreme view, Andri. This is not about war; it is about diplomacy, trade and the everyday business of international affairs. When Tyr volunteered for his task, he lost his right hand. But he did not perish. We can survive, our impartiality intact, if we dare to step a foot out into the wider world of Noctur."

"You are, I think, too hopeful." He said, looking back out over the square. "The Axis wants only war; that is all they know. You associate yourself with them and you make us warmongers. Our reputation for peace becomes compromised." He glanced slyly back over to Runær, a grin crystallising on his face. "Besides, we would have to take it to a referendum. The polls would never support it."

“Not even observer status?”

“Nei. It is associated with war. To all intents, it is tainted.”

A single petal from one of the cherry blossoms above broke loose of its physical tender and caught in the breeze. It was whisked through the air in an elegant spiral before losing impetus and descending slowly, gracefully towards the earth below. The petal landed on Andri and Runær's table, right between the two of them. Spring was ending.

My Friends, Janis Kafka and Lemont Dupree,

I have noticed with admiration the benefits that your state has gained from its membership of the UNCA. It is undoubtedly a powerful organisation founded upon even more powerful bonds.

Arthuria does not, however, seek power. We seek to live in the best possible world for our citizens, and the world they have chosen to support for over a century and a half is one in which our country retains its inviolable sovereignty reinforced, as you know, by permanent armed neutrality.

Our neutrality is not only based on international law but also upon a careful application of our own foreign policy within a constant analysis of the prevailing international environment. In this current environment where, as you rightly say, tensions are high and war abounds, the Storting sees very little scope for action while maintaining impartiality and objectivity. For the Arthurian Federation to ascend to the ranks of the UNCA, even as an observer, would, we fear, be taken as a sign of partiality by all states.

For fear of sacrificing our reputation as a permanently neutral state, I must sadly inform you that my government cannot accept your offer of entry into the UNCA.

The Arthurian Federation is not passive in its foreign affairs though. I am personally committed, and the Arthurian government is also committed, to promoting sustainable development across Noctur. We wish to see poverty halted and rolled back. We wish to see wars ended in manners appropriate to their context. To achieve these foreign policy aims, I offer up the Arthurian Federation’s good offices to facilitate mediation between individual states or international organisations. I offer up monitors and aid. I offer up the possibility of bilateral talks. All of these, I humbly lay at your feet should you choose to accept them. It is my honour, and the honour of my country, to help build Noctur.

Yours in friendship,

Federal Minister Runær Arnardotar.
On behalf of the Storting and the Arthurian People

¹ The name of Vestmanaeyjar translates into English as 'West Mine Island'. This is widely agreed to refer to the larger island of Geldungur, on which the city is located. It is named for its situation to the west of Steinhald and the mines which once supplied the larger canton with stone.

² “Guide me, mild one, if ever I need thee.” An Arthurian saying when confronting unexpected information or unwanted requests.

³ Bionad is a popular organic, carbonated, fermented, non-alcoholic drink in Arthuria. Common flavours include lychee, herbs, elderberry and orange-ginger.

by **Varisea** » Tue Apr 05, 2016 10:06 pm

FAQ

The Office of the Chief Executive of Varisea- as in, the actual room- was less impressive than many people assumed. The room was dominated by a large desk, carved from the finest wood in Varisea, and an expensive silk rug covered the floor. There were a few comfortable chairs, a wall mounted plasma screen television, and a massive Varisean flag hanging from the left hand wall. A single large painting, Shpikalov Stepanovich’s Rape of Mordia, hung on the right. During the previous administration there had been a pair of couches where the Chief Executive could talk to his guests on an equal footing. Chief Executive Peterson had gotten rid of them on his first day in office. At the moment the room held 4 men and 1 woman. There was the Chief Executive himself, Speaker of the Peoples Assembly Feodor Antonson, Minister of State Delov Alekseych, High Commandant Rasim Peterson of the State Security Force, and Minister of Finance Arina Aliyeva. Minister Aliyeva was something of an oddity, both in the room and in Varisean politics as a whole. She was the only female Minister in the Peterson administration, and before that had been one of the few women to become a general grade officer in the Territorial Guard. The Chief Executive had initially resisted her appointment, not wanting to alienate the Conservatives, but her determination and talent allowed her to crush all her competition until even the Conservatives were forced to acknowledge that she was right for the job. Somewhere along the line she had become one of Andrew’s most important advisers. It wasn’t that he trusted her, but that he liked the fact that she was one of the only people in the administration (and probably the country) that would disagree with him to his face. This came rather easily for her- even as a child she hated liars, and Andrew Peterson was a masterful one. There was a verse Arina had heard in church that described a dammed soul as ‘a mask beneath a mask beneath a mask, all the way to the core.’ It was an apt description of Peterson.

“Huh.”

It was the first word (if one could call it that) that had been spoken in quite some time. Peterson drummed his fingers on his desk and made a show of skimming the missive for a fifth time before glancing at his advisers.

“So, what do you think?”

His tone and body-language was curious, but Arina had worked with the man long enough to know how his mind worked. His piercing green eyes wore burning with hunger, like a starving wolf at a BBQ. She suppressed a sigh as Delov spoke.

“This would be a wonderful opportunity for us. Better relations with UNCA will be very helpful both for the trade and for increasing Varisean relevance on the world stage.” Beside him Rasim nodded.

“The tensions between UNCA and Nui-Ra are going to come to a head eventually, and it’s clear to me whose going to come out on top. We can also use their assistance in dealing with those Arab filth to west, not to mention technical assistance for the WINTER Projec-” Andrew Peterson glared at his brother, who instantly shut his mouth with an audible click. He then turned to Arina, his gaze softening only marginally as his emerald orbs met her jade.

“Assuming that this passes-”

“It won’t” Speaker Feodor chimed in happily

“-it would definitely boost trade with the UNCA nations. Of course, the trade off would be reduced trade with Nui-Ra and the rest of Free Noctur. And let’s not forget that becoming associated with UNCA, even as an ‘observer,’ would make us a legitimate target in case of a UNCA/Nui-Ra war. Not to mention that Segland would no doubt try to turn us into a puppet state.” Arina knew even as she spoke that hers was a lost cause. Peterson craved power and influnce, seeking control like a desert nomad searching for an oasis. He had already convinced himself, and that was all that mattered. He turned finally to the Speaker.

“Feodor, how would the Assembly vote?” Given that over half of the Peoples Quorum was personally indebted to him, the outcome of their vote was not in doubt.

“Most of ConPart would probably support it, especially if we rile them up about the Arab menace. I think I could get most of WorldFront to swing our way on this one, if we play our cards right. ProgPart will fight this to the end though, and they might be able to pull enough of the weaker members of NatSov to their side to kill it. I give it 50/50 odds, assuming nothing changes.” He hesitated, glanced around carefully, before continuing, “unless of course something were to happen to… tip the scales in our direction.” Andrew’s face was stone, revealing nothing as he thought. Finally he spoke.

“Send them a nice boilerplate message, letting them know that we will consider their offer. Rasim, stay with me, the rest of you start working the angles. Dismissed.”

To: Vir Consilli Janis Kafka, Head of the Foreign Affairs Bureau, Lemont Dupree, Hadinian Ambassador to UNCA.
From: Chief Executive Andrew Peterson of Varisea, Minister of State Delov Alekseych of Varisea
Subject: Regarding your Invitation
Encryption: Strong

Esteemed Ministers,

We thank you for extending such a gracious offer to our nation. It is clear that in dark times such as these international cooperation is more important than ever. However, such an important decision requires the input of the elected representatives of Varisea, in order to ensure that all voices and opinions are heard. Therefore we are pleased to announce that your offer will be voted upon by the National Legislature of the Republic of Varisea in one (1) week’s time. No matter how the vote swings, we would be delighted to meet with you. We appreciate your understanding of the realities of our political process, and hope for continued friendship between our nations.

Go with the Grace of Heaven,

Andrew Peterson,
Chief Executive of the Republic.

Delov Alekseych,
Minister of State.

by **Hadin** » Wed Apr 13, 2016 4:59 pm

The decision to extend invitations to relative unknowns in Noctur to align with UNCA had not been as hotly contested as Nico Hass had originally though it would have been.

In a better world, Nico Hass would have long since had rid himself of Fiete Nikastro by now. The two Envoys, one regular, one "High", tended to butt heads on many issues. It was clear that Nikastro had the power to dissuade much of Hadin's government from ideas that Hass would otherwise have had no trouble enforcing.

This was not a perfect world, however, and Hass quickly learned that even his primary antagonist had an unwitting use. Nikastro was well-liked, especially within his home-state of Salutem where he was held in particularly high-esteem. Nikastro was intelligent, with genuinely good ideas and points to make, when he wasn't too busy being a soft, bleeding-heart character.

Butting heads with Nikastro, who picked at and combed through every nuance of Nico Hass's work, quickly taught Nico Hass how to be more careful in writing and enforcing the law of Hadin. Like a brick wall to a crash test, seeing the negative effects of Nikastro on Nico's own ideas turned out to be an effective way to revise them, and perfect them, and further strengthen himself to hold more absolute power.

Besides, Nikastro wasn't a real threat, right? The younger man was much too soft for that. Nico Hass almost found him adorable, like a teenaged boy, thinking he was making a difference in the country, and perhaps going home to that young, pretty blind thing that Nikastro had married and thinking himself some sort of visionary.

He'll never become anything seriously worrysome. Just a nuisance. Like a fly, buzzing...

Nico brushed the thoughts away from his mind as he looked through the assortment of papers at his desk. It was late in the evening. The Council of Patricians had been adjourned for the day. Tomorrow was Sunday, and on Sundays, before their meetings, they held religious services, which Nico Hass himself usually led. All of the Patricians, Councilmen and Envoys alike, would attend, alongside their families, in honor of the true leader of Hadin --- god.

The papers on his desk were the replies of the leaders of the nations to whom he'd had Janis Kafka draft missives to. Each one had a different, interesting answer, one in particular negative in its tone, one downright confusing, and the other...a bit vague, but somehow promising.

With him, in that resplendent office, on the other side of the strong, mahogany desk that Nico frequently worked at, was Janis Kafka, a noticeably darker man. Kafka had many Hadinian features, especially around the eyes, but his darker hair and skin tone betrayed a racial impurity. Kafka was a quarter ethnically Nui-tan.

"If I had my way, I wouldn't bother with these insipid other countries. Shouldn't Segland be more than enough? Not to even speak of Algrabad..."

Kafka responded elegantly, trying hard to advise the High-Envoy without inadvertently offending him, "You know, your Eminence, it's become quite clear that the main-players of UNCA have already entered the stage...but with the rest of the world splitting off into blocs as it is, we cannot solely rely on the numbers we have now. The fact of the matter is that recruiting other nations, no matter their size or relative worth to the Axis, at least prevents the creation of a future enemy".

"If they should be stupid enough to make enemies of any of us, then why do we need to care about their safety?"

Kafka sighed. Nico Hass was admittedly a good leader in most respects: stern, efficient, focused, and good at running the internal affairs of a nation at every subject. When it came to foreign relations, however, Hass was prone to making more enemies than friends.

Other Patricians couldn't have cared less, but since Foreign Affairs was his portfolio, Kafka knew deep down that diplomacy was just so much easier when you had someone who was actually capable of making friends and focusing on things outside of war. He strongly preferred to take Fiete Nikastro, who was about as well known within Noctur as Nico Hass, on diplomatic trips, but clearly possessed more skill in the foreign relations department.

It just made life so much easier. Now if only Nico Hass would just keel over in his sleep.

He needed to respond to the High-Envoy though, who was staring at him coldly, awaiting a response.

"It's not them this action provides for, at the end of the day. It's us. The best way to win a fight is to stop it from happening in the first place".

"Sounds like something that Nikastro would say".

It's fucking true though... Kafka whined internally.

Nico Hass rolled his eyes before handling the documents over to Kafka.

"Well, I can't think of anything to say right now that wouldn't "upset international tensions" right now, even though Demonland or Demonlonde or whereever has a dispatch that's vague as shit, and Arthuria..."

Arthuria's dispatch had angered Hass the most. Sending the missives out, Nico Hass had simply been hoping for a fantastical "of course we'd love to join you!".

That was not how diplomacy worked.

"...well. The Seglanders are going to be quite upset with us if we go through all of this trouble and invite nations to UNCA only to chase them away. Why don't you just write up whatever they want to hear --- whatever will get them to Kopurauth --- and then we'll go from there..."

"Of course, your Eminence," Kafka smiled, feeling relieved to be left to his own devices. "Of course, the finished products will need your sanction..."

"Bring them to me before you mail them off. Preferably in front of the whole Envoyship. If ever there's a time to hear about "friendship" and "diplomatic relations" and all that other nonsense from Fiete, now's the time..."

"Why don't you just insist they come to Kopurauth?" Fiete asked Janus Kafka over the phone. It was late at night. Kafka really hadn't meant to bother Fiete so late, given that Mr. and Mrs. Nikastro would have to get up early in the morning tomorrow, much earlier than any of the other Patricians, and go through the arduous process of getting at two-year-old boy ready for religious services.

In all honesty, this late at night, Janus himself should have been sleeping...but Fiete was someone high up in the Hadinian leadrship whom Janus honestly trusted more, and someone whose input was likely to go much farther in helping with the UNCA conundrum.

Most of the letter was written up and ready to send to Hass tomorrow, for some final revisions before printing up the official versions and getting the required signatures...but there was just something missing.

A little extra enticement.

How?

"I thought High-Envoy Hass made it clear that he expected delegates only to come to Kopurauth if a prospective deal was on the table".

"That is not how these things are best done," Fiete advised, graciously. The man was also much more humble than Nico Hass. A true religious figure, if there really was one.

"You want to persuade them to our side, or at least get a few points in our favor with these new-comer nations? You have to show them what we were several years ago. Don't talk about it, don't boast about it, and for Septima's sake, please don't bul...my wife is in the room. You know what I mean".

He continued, "if they really have any place among us, they will understand, and if they don't, at least hopefully they'll be convinced to remain neutral. The goal is to avoid making enemies, not to demand false friendships".

Both of them could suddenly hear crying in the background.

"Oh dear...Alexei's up. I have to go".

"Terrible two's, eh? Best of luck". Kafka laughed a little before hanging up the phone, and continuing to write his draft copies of the missives.

Dressed in his absolute best, Janis Kafka felt very strange indeed. Hadinian services were usually quite modest, other than in the church and among the participating clergy. This was usually done quite purposefully, to further imprint, in the collective Hadinian psyche, submission before God.

Today, however, was a special occasion --- the wedding of a daughter of the Envoy of Beliti. Thus, everyone was dressed to their absolute best, and for a single day, there was a sense of momentous grandeur and pride.

A Hadinian girl's wedding day was, after all, supposed to be one of the best days of her life.

After the service was done, before the Patricians were scheduled to meet for a short session, Janus made a point of tracking down Fiete Nikastro for some final advice.

The Nikastro family always sat towards the front pews, towards speakers or other areas where the acoustics of the services were best heard. This was done because Fiete's wife was blind.

It was only after seeing the rather beautiful Cecilia Nikastro that Janus understood one of the many reasons why Fiete had payed a sum of 20,000 Dir for a woman who would never see his face, even once. With a toddler in tow (Fiete's adoptive son --- the Nikastro couple had no biological children), and bags around the eyes of both Cecilia and Fiete, Janus felt the urge to back down for a moment and stop pestering them.

Unfortunately, Fiete Nikastro noticed him first.

"Hello Janus," Fiete smiled, walking over. "How was your night?"

"Better than yours I take it?"

"Children are a delight," Fiete mused, before adding "with a cost..."

"I have something specific for you".

"More about the UNCA missives?"

"Yes," Janus nodded, producing his drafts. "I have rough copies here for you, actually".

Fiete glanced over them for a moment, reading carefully before adding in, "be nicer to Arthuria".

"Even though they're already a lost cause?"

"Who says they are?"

"Nico Hass says so..."

Out of the corner of his eye, Janus noticed Cecilia Nikastro flinching, and then turning towards her left....facing them. Her hearing was more sensitive. She was the only one who noticed his footsteps.

Fiete didn't appear startled at all, but Janus was very much so by the booming voice that followed these footsteps.

"That would be High-Envoy Nico Hass, that says they are".

Nico Hass himself, still in ecclesiastical garb due to having presided over the service.

"S-see," Janus said quickly.

"Nico". Fiete said coldly.

"Fiete," Nico replied.

"What makes you believe them to be so useless?" Fiete asked.

"Well, they've made it very clear they have no intentions of joining UNCA. I don't like going down useless roads, Fiete. Why put in anymore effort towards the Arthurians? We should be investing our efforts with more agreeable folk, like the Variseans".

"And perhaps the Armangorians," Janus quickly added, receiving cocked eyebrows from both men.

"The who?" Nico Hass asked.

"Another new-comer nation. They were never sent a welcome dispatch".

"Well, send them one", both Fiete and Nico said in unison.

At least they don't disagree on everything Janus thought.

"Back to the Arthurians, Fiete," Nico Hass said. "What use have they, if not joining UNCA?"

"The Arthurians are quite the...neutral nation. Neutral, but very much idealistic. Strong. Good allies worth having. If we can't convince them to affiliate with UNCA, we should at least continue some sort of healthy correspondence with them".

"And why invest in such a thing for such an unwavering dedication to neutrality?"

"Firstly, attitudes can change," Fiete said cautiously, "and secondly, a neutral country is still not an enemy. Even if they don't swing towards UNCA, if they stay neutral, it's a loss for Nui-Ra as well".

There was silence for a moment, before Nico Hass smiled.

"Well Fiete, I must say you've got this all thought out".

He gazed at both Nikastro and Kafka. "This actually works brilliantly for me. I've got a situation involving Algrabad that I'll need to be dealing with. Why don't you handle the whole UNCA thing? Perhaps among those who are not yet our friends, your gentleness will be good for something".

He smiled. "Speaking of which, I'll meet you in the office. 20 minutes".

"Algrabad?" Fiete asked Janis quietly, when Nico was out of sight.

"Don't look at me," Janus mumbled.

"Why shouldn't I be looking at you? You're the Councilman for Foreign Affairs?"

"Well...obviously this isn't a foreign affairs issue then," Janus mumbled, before adding, "now, let's get to those reports".

Before long, the appropriate seals and signatures were acquired, the final copies of the missives completed, and four neat envelopes, each bearing the seals of Hadin as well as the respective nation to be the recipient, were sent out.

TO: Andrew Peterson, Chief Executive of the Republic of Varisea
CC: Delov Alekseych, Minister of State of Varisea
FROM: Vir Consilli Janis Kafka, Head of the Foreign Affairs Bureau, Nico Hass, High Envoy of Hadin.
SUBJECT: Regarding Our Correspondence
ENCRYPTION:Strong

Esteemed Executive and Minister of Varisea.

We of course will be more than happy to wait upon the action of your government and the vote of the Varisean government, prior to any decisions made involving membership with UNCA in any form.

More importantly, we thank you for your gracious reply. I was given the wonderful gift of a "Guide To Varisea" recently, and I personally marveled at the many similarities between your nation and our own. Although we also have our many differences culturally, that can be said of any other nation within UNCA, and yet, we still co-operate for the greater good of all our member states.

Even if your nation chooses against an invitation to UNCA at this time, I feel that Varisea and Hadin could enjoy special co-operation, which would certainly do Varisea no harm in the eyes of UNCA either.

I digress.

No matter what the ultimate decision on alliances, furthering discussions between Varisea, Hadin, and hopefully other sympathetic nations as well can do no harm to any of us. I see only good in such a scenario.

Therefore, I, Janus Kafka, under the authority of the High-Envoy Nico Hass, still invite you to visit Kopurauth, and meet with myself and other members of the Council of Patricians. This opportunity to meet with us, extended to Varisea and other nations, is hopefully a way that we can understand each other, come to know other Nocturians a bit better, and begin a dialogue for the benefit of us all.

In Varisea's case, it will have the added benefit of establishing, I should hope, a true international friendship.

If you so choose to come visit Kopurauth, myself and Envoy Fiete Nikastro will be at your disposal for that time. If you do not, then I wish you the best in your nation's affairs regardless, and invite you to resume and maintain correspondence at any time.

May the graces of Septima shine upon you.

Janis Kafka
Vir Consilli, Head of the Foreign Affairs Bureau

Nico Hass
High-Envoy of Hadin

TO: Ráðsmaður Marý II of the Arthurian Federation
CC: Runný Arnadótti, Federal Minister of the Arthurian Federation
FROM: Vir Consilli Janis Kafka, Head of the Foreign Affairs Bureau, Nico Hass, High Envoy of Hadin.
SUBJECT: An Invitation to Kopurauth, Hadin
ENCRYPTION:Strong

Esteemed Leaders of the Arthurian Federation

It is with great admiration that we in turn observe your interest in benevolent work across Noctur. With this in mind, I wish to further elaborate and address some of your concerns.

In all honesty, the wars waged and the conflicts that have arisen amid the formation of UNCA are regrettable, but they have been necessary towards the improvement of our states. If our understanding of Arthurian history is correct, and please forgive us in the possible event that it is not, Arthuria has had a long-standing era of peace, goodwill, stability, and freedom within its history, for over a century. It is with happiness, not envy, that we make this observation.

Hadin was not so blessed. Neither was Algrabad. When push came to shove, to so speak, a show of force was ultimately required when deterrents failed to keep the aggressors at bay.

UNCA's ultimate, long-term goal, is Nocturian co-operation, however. It's even in the name. We recognize that this is a long-term goal, however, not apt to be gained in the span of a single year, or decade. Further, we recognize that a union between Arthuria and UNCA, even at the observer level, may not be gained so either.

However, in the interest of co-operation, I, Janus Kafka, under the authority of the High-Envoy Nico Hass, still invite you to visit Kopurauth, and meet with myself and other members of the Council of Patricians. This opportunity to meet with us, extended to Arthuria and other nations, is hopefully a way that we can understand each other, come to know other Nocturians a bit better, and begin a dialogue for the benefit of us all.

If you so choose to come visit Kopurauth, myself and Envoy Fiete Nikastro will be at your disposal for that time. If you do not, then I wish you the best in your vision of active neutrality, and invite you to resume and maintain correspondence at any time.

May the graces of Septima shine upon you.

Janis Kafka
Vir Consilli, Head of the Foreign Affairs Bureau

Nico Hass
High-Envoy of Hadin

TO: Sovereign Princess Cerstaene IV of Armangoria
CC: Prime Minister Abel M.V. Qarst of Armangoria
FROM: Vir Consilli Janis Kafka, Head of the Foreign Affairs Bureau, Lemont Dupree, Hadinian Ambassador to UNCA.
SUBJECT: An Invitation To Discuss International Relations
ENCRYPTION:Strong

Esteemed Majesty and Most Honorable Prime Minister

Noctur is in an abominable state of affairs on the international level. Wars are waged, tensions rise, and major nations such as Radiatia attempt to recklessly dominate the business of the rest of the world. In a time such as this, one can see that smaller and less influential nations such as ours are forced to face precarious situations.

I am sure that talk of the UNCA vs. "Nui-Ra" tensions across the globe have no doubt reached your populace. Given the ongoing wars in Higgins-Brown and Merrina, you may be thinking that political neutrality is the only viable option. I will first admit that I admire this stance. It is always good to see nations which hold such views, valuing their sovereignty, without wishing to be trampled on by the affairs of other nations.

Hadin was in a similar state just over 20 years ago, devastated by a war wrought by Nui-ta and Radiatia on Hadinian soil shortly before our independence from Nui-ta. Being subjected to colonization for so long, and then immediately being alienated by the rest of the world for having had to fight this war against grander military powers --- a war for our sovereignty, no less --- we know all too well what it means to be one such small nation.

In today's world situation, where the powers that be seek to increase their encroachment upon the rest of the world, standing alone is no longer an option. This is regrettable, but it is a truth that must be faced. It is to this end that, in alliance with Segland, Algrabad, and Ainotula, we have formed the United Nocturian Co-Operation Axis. You may know it as UNCA.

Contrary to what you may have been told thus far, UNCA is not a war-mongering group of socialists and barbarians. Although Hadin is undoubtedly the only non-socialistic state within the bunch, this should simply serve as proof that adherence to a socialistic policy is not what UNCA stands for. The economics of a state are the state's sovereign business, with UNCA's economic goals being the increasing of co-operation between its member nations to better serve the economies of all UNCA nations. Furthermore, the concept of nations looking out for their allies, towards an ideal of shared prosperity, is as far away from barbarism as I can imagine.

This is also where I will admittedly tackle the question of military involvement within UNCA.

In UNCA's formative days, where many of our member-nations were facing aggression from threats abroad, military co-operation was essential. In order to better tackle the threats of aggressors, we realized we had to band together. This is why the Algrabadi War swung so highly in the favor of the nation of Algrabad. Although Algrabad has always maintained a competent military force, over-aggression from the Higgins-Brownite government, which wished to usurp its way into the treaty-delineated "HB/Algrabadi Buffer Zone", needed greater handling to be properly put down. Algrabad maintained its competence in making the fine choice to ally with UNCA.

We now extend an opportunity for Armangoria to do the same.

With understanding and sympathies towards the varying needs that exist between different governments, and the further understanding that not all nations wish to abide by the full economic and defense provisions of the Axis Treaty, but may otherwise be fully sympathetic towards UNCA, and be able to find sympathies extended towards them by the same, we now come to the purpose of this dispatch in offering two different diplomatic agreements, either of which may be chosen by your government as befits the specific needs of your people.

The first option is the traditional route of full-membership into UNCA. This would entitle you to all benefits bestowed by UNCA nations under the Axis Treaty, including the relaxation of economic trade barriers between nations, a non-aggression pact, and a mutual defense treaty. Although we know that it is a lot to ask to agree to a mutual-defense clause, the practice of mutual protection is what has allowed UNCA to maintain the strength that protects it from threats. In the case of the government of Hadin, we know that we are well protected by Nui-tan aggression because we have such loyal allies to stand with us. Mutual protection is a deterrent well-worth the cost.

Understanding, of course, the possible position of simply not wanting to jump head-first into so great a commitment, we would now like to introduce the second option.

The second option is a newer level of "provisional" or "observatory" status within UNCA, yielding the same economic benefits, while relaxing some of the military commitments. Rather than be held to a mutual-defense pact, provisional status expects only the signing of a non-aggression pact with the rest of UNCA. It requires no further commitment, and will allow nations with neutrality doctrine to comfortably pursue ties with UNCA, without further worry of breaking national commitments or ideology.

We hope that one of these two options will be found compatible with the development of Armangoria, as you venture into the greater workings of Nocturian global politics. As another "little government" amid the larger nations of Noctur, we fully sympathize with and wish your government the best in this decision.

Further, we invite you to the capital city of Kopurauth, to meet with the Council of Patricians and further discuss any questions or concerns that you may have. In a time of war and uncertainty, let us seek greater co-operation and peace with those who have done us no harm.

May the graces of Septima shine upon you.

Janis Kafka
Vir Consilli, Head of the Foreign Affairs Bureau

Lemont Dupree
Ambassador to the United Nocturian Co-Operation Axis

On that fateful day in Kopurauth, the sun was shining. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. This was considered a particularly good omen, as Fiete Nikastro waited on the VIP tarmac for the arriving guests.

Kill them with kindness, the old saying went. Fiete knew well that Nico Hass thought him "harmless" and "incompetent". This was due to a lack of willingness to wage war, or pander to the basal instincts of aggression. Such a man, as far as Fiete was concerned, was no more than a glorified, over-sized child.

No, the way to take over the world and to assert one's dominance was first to prove worthy enough to subdue all threats to one's interests, and like Nico Hass, Fiete Nikastro did not seek to put effort into a useless decision. Hadin needed to prove itself truly strong to rise farther in Noctur.

...and the stronger nations were those that could eliminate threats without any resistance.

It's much more than just being nice...

With that final thought, he straightened his tie, ran a quick hand through his hair (religious modesty or not, first impressions would count!) and took a look at the limousine caravan, prepared to carry the diplomatic party to one of Hadin's finest hotels. Even diplomats needed to unpack, after all.

by **The Arthurian Isles** » Fri Apr 15, 2016 2:08 am

Andri was the last to arrive in the Storting's chamber. Nine seats were already filled, each of the occupants either in conversation with another or engrossed in some document or other. Against one wall a line of chairs had been laid out for the few advisers that had been asked to attend - their role was primarily to act as stenographers for the various ministers and the Chancellor. Andri slid into his usual seat, in between Runær and Lief, the environmental affairs minister. As Lief was already talking to a woman on his other side, Andri started his pleasantries with Runær.

"How was lunch today? Were they serving anything nice?"

"Not much." Runær replied, closing some emails on her tablet before turning to Andri. "I think it was an organic local turkey burger with a toasted taleggio cheese crisp, papaya chutney, black truffle aioli and micro greens on a gluten-free brioche bun. Not their best, but for cafeteria food I'm contented."

"Sounds good to me. If I'd known I would have asked you to get me one."

"And I would have told you to get your own." Runær quipped back, softening the remark with a cheeky grin.

"Ah, you're just bitter that we voted against your surveillance bill." He offered a barely perceptible wink. Runær laughed, but wasn't able to respond with a comeback of her own. Andri, as the Storting's President-Stormaður, was already calling the room to attention with the usual quiet knock on the table. It was one of his character traits for which his colleagues knew him best.

"Let's begin." As the last of the conversations died down Andri opened a small, black leather notebook in front of him, skipping to a bookmark roughly two-thirds through the pad. The page was filled with two neat lists in red pen, the handwriting immaculate, and beneath that a series of numbers and roman numerals which appeared to be indecipherable to any but himself. "This meeting will be longer than some; expect it to go on past the hour. The first item of discussion will be our response to Hadin's diplomatic request, of which I'm sure you've all been briefed." A few nods broke the stillness around the table. "After which we will move on to the prospect of lengthening the N-12 and, as a final item, Helena will be giving a presentation on the state of our avocado deficit." There was a general murmur of excitement, which abated as soon as Andri cut in with a firm but calm intercession.

"To business, then. I believe Runær has a report on our efforts with the Hadinians thus far. Go ahead." He turned slightly to his right, smiling to Runær. She smiled back, allowing her eyes to linger for just a second before she turned to a grey-blue folder and removed the only piece of paper inside. Its red, black and cream emblem was recognisable around the table. It was the infamous communiqué which had been spreading around the Alting's offices for the past few days. For most countries a source of mild interest, a diplomatic invitation was so rare in Arthuria that it had captured the imagination of everyone interested in politics in some form. What had been more concerning to those who made the decisions was that this was not the first such message from Kopurauth; the normal Arthurian response - that neutrality proscribed them from any serious interaction - had failed to extricate them from the potentially embarrassing situation brought about by the first communiqué. This second one was an ultimatum: attend or be treated with suspicion.

"Kopurauth has received our first response. They are aware that we will not risk breaching our neutrality by aligning ourselves with the Axis. They are also aware that we are willing to provide our good offices to them in times of need, as well as co-ordinate on matters of the global commons. The response laid out in the missive before you acknowledges our concerns and offers a looser approach than was espoused in the first. Janis has pushed for a meeting in Kopurauth." Around the room furtive glances snatched. "The purpose of such a visit has not been explained by the Hadinians, but we have an analysis of what to expect. Indirect references to Pol-Nui-Ra in the missive suggest that the fear of war is still strong amongst the members of the UNCA. If they can persuade smaller states - ourselves included - to join them then they will have scored a potentially major security coup. Even lesser objectives will afford them advantages over their rivals: indirect assistance at points of tension or the promise of neutrality at the outbreak of hostilities. In their position of paranoia, the likelihood is that the Hadinians want us to at least inform them face-to-face that we will be remaining neutral for the foreseeable future.

"But if they insist on meeting us in person then we would be fools to pass up the opportunity to promote our own objectives. My ministry has for a long time promoted objectives of sustainable development, as you will know. To engage directly with a foreign government on these issues would shift our progress forward dramatically. I propose that we attend this visit - not to do so would only heighten the Axis paranoia at the risk of our own security - and that we grant full authorisation to our delegation to pursue our foreign objectives with regard to the global commons. It is the best path for us to take: we ease the fears of the UNCA without giving Pol-Nui-Ra reason for concern, we maintain our neutrality whilst reaffirming our commitment to it, and we expand our influence in the issues we have traditionally championed."

Runær looked around the room. The silence weighed heavily between them. It was not the reaction she had hoped for; she had assumed that her positive and yet practical approach would have garnered immediate praise. Instead, it seemed as though everyone wanted to raise objections but did not want to be the first to do so. It did not worry her too much, though. She was used, by now, to long periods of quiet in these meetings; Arthurian politics was dominated by those who crafted their words well and only spoke after considerable thought. There were those who were just as verbose as any politician could be expected to be, but they did not tend to take a seat in the Storting.

"Perhaps a structure will help the debate to flow." Andri broke the silence. He was met with a few grunts of agreement around the table. "The first order is to decide whether we are to accept the invitation to Kopurauth. The second is how we are to engage with their expected plans for us. The third is whether we then attempt to seize the initiative and discuss matters of the global commons." He looked over to Runær who, with an expression of thanks, nodded her affirmation.

"I think we're all in agreement on the first two orders." Johan, sitting two to Andri's left and wearing a scowl with his slightly oversized suit, was the Haldsamen Parðil's representative on the Storting. He was an enigma to most of the group, the Stormaður¹ who kept quiet save for two reasons: he was forced to speak or he spotted something which he considered 'stupid'. The very fact that Arthuria's neutral stance was being questioned was, to him, evidently stupid. "We're going to Kopurauth and we're going to remind them that we are permanently neutral."

His tone was not soft, but it achieved its intended effect. The other ministers grudgingly acknowledged that the issue of neutrality was never going to be resolved in a different way and nodded their assent to Johan's blunt and almost condescending observation.

"We should not engage them on the global commons." Hildur Manus, one of the big players in the Storting, spoke directly across from Andri. She had the look of a headmistress, though she was far more astute than one. "The Hadinians care about this visit for one reason only: their own security. Anything that goes beyond that - anything that involves other countries - will be sidelined. So why bother?"

"Because they're worthy goals." Runær replied, with not a little indignation.

"Our good offices are worthy too, and they have far more relevance to what the Hadinians want." Hildur looked directly at Runær, that unblinking stare seeming to grant all that she said an air of authority. "Why try to overextend yourself only to come back empty-handed? I say we push for good offices - nothing more - and return with greater influence in Noctur's politics of peacemaking."

"Agreed." Opposite Runær was a man whose bulky frame and scarred face would intimidate those who did not already know him. Thor Hamarskjold, one of the more cunning of the Stores and, more importantly, a free vote. He was one of the three Frelskap on the Storting but had reached his position by virtue of his political savvy more than his loyalty to the party apparatus. One could surmise the general direction of his votes based on his philosophy, but Thor was able to disrupt debates by throwing a deeply pragmatic spanner into the machinery. "Good offices are achievable. If we can become the natural guarantor of such offices then we open ourselves up to further diplomatic initiatives: trade would be my suggestion, and then - I suppose - the global commons."

"We already have trade talks underway." Runær objected.

"Yes. The Accords." Hildur smirked. "And which countries are committed to those discussions so far?"

Runær leant back in her chair, her disappointment palpable. Her mouth had thinned out somewhat, the usual smile hidden. She answered somewhat less enthusiastically than her previous interjections. "Poldania, Nui-ta and Radiatia."

"Yes, Pol-Nui-Ra." Hildur repeated for effect, though the deeper meaning was obvious to all.

"Which is why we should focus on achieving realisable steps with the UNCA while we still can." Thor concluded.

Runær looked to Andri. A sense of pleading was noticeable in her eyes. She needed some support. Andri tilted his head to one side and raised his eyebrow. The point was clear: he wished he could bail Runær out, but his convictions told him that she was wrong. He supported the majority opinion, and his silence was all the boost they needed. Perhaps Lief could help salvage Runær's hopes. He was the Grønen Parðil's member on the Storting and should have been as activist as the most zealous of campaign groups, but he, like Thor, was too shrewd a politician to labour a stillborn proposal.

"I'm sorry Runær." Lief's proclamation had an air of finality about it. "I don't think you can win this one."

The room fell into silence again, this time in anticipation. With the tacit approval of most of the room the debate was almost over and, for Runær, lost. She was concentrating, her face screwed up, searching for some last argument that could salvage her plans or at least save face. Finally, looking over to Hildur, she asked quietly and in an inquisitorial tone, "I'd like to know what the people think."

Hildur raised her eyebrows. It was a risk - the Arthurian people were almost as conservative in their foreign affairs as the government - and it had all the feelings of a last, desperate move. She consented to the request and spent a few moments bringing up figures on her tablet. "The latest poll was taken three weeks ago, before the missive arrived. The sample size was upwards of three thousand, polled by a combination of phone interviews and online surveys. On the question 'Should the Arthurian Federation remain permanently neutral in international affairs', 82% of those polled answered 'yes'. On the question 'Should the Arthurian Federation take vocal moral stands in international political disputes?', 47% answered 'yes'. On the question 'Should the Arthurian Federation consider taking international military obligations alongside other states?', 10% answered 'yes'."

"And what about feelings towards the UNCA?" Runær continued.

Hildur pursed her lips. This was an unnecessary waste of time. She nevertheless found some more figures on her tablet. "The latest poll was taken two weeks ago. The sample size was roughly one thousand and they were surveyed by doorstop pollsters. Those surveyed were given five options when asked to select where their international allegiances lay: the UNCA, Pol-Nui-Ra, TOTAL, a single state, or they could offer a write-in answer. Political preference for the UNCA was 8%. The same figure for Pol-Nui-Ra was 12%, for TOTAL was 4%, and for bilateral agreements was 13%. 57% of respondents chose to write-in that they would prefer to remain neutral. The remainder - 6% - were undecided or did not know. Does that help to resolve your issues?"

The room was quiet once more. From outside the cacophony of city life could be heard - the birds singing, the people chattering and, in the far distance, traffic picking up. All of this was lost on the Stores who awaited nothing but a firm answer from Runær.

"If I may, Runær?" Andri finally intervened. "You have achieved more than most foreign ministers already. An Arthurian minister will be making a state visit to a foreign power. You have also achieved more upon that; we will not only be re-iterating the same line on neutrality, we will be promoting our good offices. If this goes well, there will be more chances for us to make our mark. But the road to transcendence lies in action, small and concerted but constant action."

The smile, that for which she was so well known, returned to Runær's face. "Thank you." She spoke the words as though there were no-one else in the room except for her and Andri, looking into those eyes of his which revealed the strains of his efforts to mend her disappointment.

"We will go to Kopurauth." She announced to the room. "We will reaffirm our neutrality, and we will offer our good offices. No more," and then with a fiery conviction, "no less."

The room broke into a collective grin.

"All that is left, then, is to decide who's going."

My Friends, Janis Kafka and Nico Hass,

With pleasure, I accept your offer to visit Kopurauth. While I am unable to personally attend, the Federal Minister of Justice Thor Hamarskjold, a coequal member of the Storting, shall have the honour of visiting Hadin.

I must reiterate the necessity of non-alignment with the UNCA and instead I offer the following possible points of discussion between our states, to be chosen or discarded at your liberty:

The use of Arthurian good offices to resolve international disputes;
Action to reduce points of international tension;
Efforts at improving bilateral trade relations; and
Commitments to adhere to the Arthurian Declaration of Neutrality from both of our states.

This agenda is at your discretion, I assure you, and we would welcome any additions you would make and equally understand should you wish to strike any matters from the above list. Should we be so honoured as to meet with the delegations of other states during our visit to Kopurauth, we would also welcome their inclusion in such discussions, so long as you deem it fitting.

Yours in friendship,

Federal Minister Runær Arnardotar.
On behalf of the Storting and the Arthurian People

¹ A Stormaður is the colloquial title given to any sitting member of the Storting. It translates into English as a 'Great Being'.

by **Demonlonde** » Sun Apr 17, 2016 3:26 pm

So warm, was Theanthê's first and most persistent thought as she stepped from the Daimonic airship's gangway to the tarmac. She could feel heat from the sun-baked macadam radiating straight through the soles of her sandals, reaching for her skin from every angle through the unfamiliarly humid atmosphere. It was an eloquent reminder that the Pambasileia, central and precious as it was to the lives of its citizens, really did lie at the edge of the world, furthest from the sun.

Her second thought, upon apprehending Envoy Nikastro and his welcoming party, was, How the hell are these people so pale?

The Protodiangelos was a small woman, scarcely reaching five feet -- hence her popular pseudonym, The Mouse -- yet the personal presence she could project from her honey-colored eyes had a way of equalizing any merely physical differences in stature. Those eyes were the windows to a deeply shrewd and calculating mind that had thrived under the Diangelikon's peculiar cultivations, propelling her to chiefdom of the God-king's college of personal agents, representatives, and operatives. First Emissary now also meant First Diplomat; as the God-king's own institutional functions kept him within the kingdom, Theanthê was by default the highest-ranking figure with whom to answer Hadin's summons.

"There is consensus that neither Hadin nor the UNCA will be explicitly cultivated as allies at this time," the Pambasileus had stated at their last meeting before Theanthê's departure. That much was obvious: fundamentalists of any stripe tended to rankle in a culture deeply invested in relativism, and the UNCA's belligerently rising star incited an instinct for counterbalance among the ministers of the Basilikon.

"Little to no action appears necessary in this situation," the Protodiangelos had reminded him. "Our analyses predict that High Envoy Hass will interpret the absence of positive response as negative response... devolving justification for subsequent aggression upon this, he will naturally drive our sympathies towards the nations of Pol-Nui-Ra. If his influence is counterbalanced by moderates such as Envoy Nikastro, then the situation will remain ambivalent and we will be as free to proceed as before. But I reiterate that our analysis is based on a modicum of data, none of which is direct; that is why I stress the character of this visit as an intelligence-gathering operation."

"The invitation would seem to indicate that you will be dealing with the moderates Nikastro and Kafka, rather than with the dogmatist Hass," Oinops had pointed out. "This, to my mind, lends weight to the second possibility. Presuming that they are minimally competent statesmen, their concern if we will not align with them will be to keep us as far from Pol-Nui-Ra as they can. If we will not be their friends, than we must not help their enemies. I will make no agreements to that end. Ambivalence works to our advantage; they seem suitably baffled by the technical language of the Way of Void; where necessary, precise verbiage can be your smokescreen."

"Select of the Diangelikon have advocated the empowerment of their moderate impulses, to bolster their personal oppositions to the methods of Hass. A favorable state visit, the impression of success... if we intend, long-term, to blunt the teeth of Hadin, this may open one of a plurality of methods. And it is best executed via personal encounter."

The God-king had pondered this for long minutes. "The idea has merit. But we lack the comprehensive information necessary to make effective use of it... we know with insufficient detail their structure of rule, the flow of real power in counterposition to it, the dispositions and aspirations of its influential actors. And recall, Hadin itself is but a symptom potentiated by greater powers. Keep to your intelligence-gathering metaphor. Make contact and give them no reasons to resent us." He smiled an enigmatic smile of his own. "First contact in generations. Would that it were under happier circumstances. No matter. Practice has its own merit."

Meeting Nikastro's startling purple eyes with her own, Theanthê returned to the present as she came to a polite distance from the Envoy and bowed. "I am Theanthê of the Daimonikê Pambasileia," she said in practiced Hadinian, tongue stepping lightly over the jarring juxtapositions of Hadinian and Daimonic syllables. "First Emissary to Dimetor Agathodaimonides Oinops Pambasileus Sebastokrator. I extend the God-king's greetings, and his gratitude for your invitation and your hospitality."

by **The Arthurian Isles** » Fri Apr 22, 2016 1:52 pm

Twelve kilometres above the surface of the Earth Thor Hamarskjold sat serenely, contemplating his duties in near-silence. To see him in his surroundings one would not imagine that he was en route to discuss matters of war and peace; he appeared to be nothing less than a man of prayer.

He was seated on a thin cushion, cross-legged and with this hands resting neatly in his lap. Beside him, placed deliberately perpendicular to the wall, was a black cane protected at top and bottom by simple silver casings. The room itself was small, barely three metres wide and six along. The only item of furniture was a small square indentation into the floor in the exact centre, filled with soil and a single plant - an azalea. Its dazzling pink petals were the only source of colour in the room. The carpet, padded walls and doors were all the same neutral beige, though they were bathed in a gently pulsating violet glow from lights hidden in the ceiling.

It was a prayer room - the official inclusive term was 'meditation room' - whose necessity was deemed unquestionable by the government. It was to be a sanctuary for ministers who required a space free from distractions in order to maintain their focus. There were those, too, who used the room to escape the pressures of their jobs, retreating into themselves for just as long as it took to regain some inner peace or balance. For others still, the act of reflection was enough to reinvigorate their tired minds. It was to the consciousness what a gym is to the body. Thor Hamarskjold did not need it for its latter two uses. He was strong in will with an endurance to carry on where most would surrender to stress and anxiety. What he needed, however, was direction - clear, precise and fully-understood. When his duties presented him with complex demands, he needed an internal strategy to guide his actions, the sort of strategy that could be best achieved by a focused mind. His was so; the discipline with which he comported himself proved it. His eyes were half-shut, open enough to remain aware of the world around him and his presence within it, but closed to unwanted material distractions. His back was rigid, almost perfectly straight, though his muscles were relaxed and there was no sign of tension in his body. His breathing was steady at a constant rate of nine breaths per minute, and his heart had calmed to thirty-two beats per minute. Within, his mind wrangled over the questions he had set it, though if another thought appeared from the ether he would acknowledge its presence and send it on its way, never loosing sight of the ultimate goal. He had been resting in this state for three hours.

In Thor's hands was was a scrap of paper torn from a notepad. On it, in the runic letters still used by some in Arthuria, was a simple sentence: "Morality is an epiphenomenon of security."

He opened his eyes. What had been hidden, the dazzlingly-bright cold blue eyes, were revealed, as well as the intense fire which burned within them. The noises of this world became perceptible once more: the slight judder of the aircraft and the muffled whine of the engines. It took some time for these external stimuli to register in Thor's mind (he was, in essence, waking up). Taking in his surroundings, he sat in the same position for some time longer. Without fuss or warning, he then reached out for his cane, resting it on the floor and using it as a support to lift himself to his full height. He was not a small man - he was just under two metres tall - and he struggled to stand entirely upright within the cramped confines of the fuselage. He ducked under the frame of the door, emerging into the comparative brightness of the main cabin.

It looked like any private aircraft. Plush leather seats with brushed metal and polished wood details, arranged around large, empty desks. A bar area was patronised by a few members of the delegation, while the remainder sat working or trying to sleep. A steward waited at the end of the cabin, attentive to anyone who looked in need of help. On one of the desks was a bottle of sparkling water next to a closed red book. Thor limped over, taking particular care - the cane and the pain in his leg already made it difficult to walk on land, the minor turbulence added to his difficulties. He placed himself at his desk and opened the book to a fresh page. For a few seconds, all he did was look at the blank spread of paper. Then he removed a pen from inside the spine of the book and began to write, this time in English.

"Morality cannot overrule power." He wrote. "It is power that permits the emergence of morality."

He stopped writing, turning his gaze to the window. Outside was clear blue - not a cloud was there to interrupt the view of sky and ocean. A smile came to Thor's face, as though he had just dismissed a crazy thought. He shook his head slightly and then returned to his notebook.

"This truth, oft neglected, is all of a sudden necessary to those of us who deal in international affairs; without it we would cause the world to burn, though we seek to do justice.

"The state is all that holds power in this world - in truth, though we may try to deny it - and so it is the state which creates morality and, from this, law. Outside of the state neither can exist, for no single actor possesses the power to back them. When the Communists quote their founder on the principle of historical materialism - 'It is not the consciousness of men that determines their existence but, on the contrary, it is their social existence that determines their consciousness.' - they have the right process of thought. They apply it incorrectly, however, to their damned classes. The key is security; if Arthuria has been able to be a moralist state it is only so because of an ingrained sense of security. We lack a continental frontier and have never been invaded since we became one country. In short, we lack fear.

Thus it is for a secure country to do what an insecure one cannot always afford to do - to show magnanimity. But even Arthuria's security has its limits, and so therefore should our policy. Our entry into Nocturian politics has diminished our sense of security; it is no longer in surplus and so negotiation ought not be practised. Instead, in these gaunter times, we must like all states lay down the conditions necessary for our own preservation and, regrettably, stow away the higher hopes for times when we are once more safe in our island home. It is, after all as Thucydides said, in peace and prosperity that both states and individuals have gentler feelings, because humanity is not then forced to face conditions of dire necessity; but war, which robs men of their daily wants, is a rough schoolmaster and creates in most people a temper that matches their condition.

"But how to reconcile this with our more humane instincts? We naturally feel that justice should be done, but we recognise that order (with its attendant reliance on power) is the precondition for a just life. The answer has been made apparent to me, though I doubt it could persuade my more internationalist colleagues. There is no external legal or moral standpoint against which our actions can be judged; these standards which we set ourselves come from within the political realm. Thus the aim becomes phrased as a balancing act between order and justice, between the actual and the ideal. This is achieved both on the level of the individual and of the state, and so we create a sort of political morality. It is to do with duties owed by one government to another, and by one people to another - it is a separate morality from that of the relationship of governments to their subjects. Our political morality acknowledges that it is expedient to consider the moral sensibilities of those whom our actions will affect. It combines with our own moral senses and is thus softened from a fanatical desire for order into something close to prudence."

Again, Thor took his pen away from the paper, allowing himself a moment to collect his thoughts. He then wrote one last line, in the old runic script, at the very bottom of his essay. He underlined it twice, read over it one last time, and then closed his pad. His jottings may have been unstructured and unusually verbose for him, but in this way they were honest; they were the chronicling of his thoughts and meditations as they were, answering questions of which only he knew. But the answer he found was much simpler than the process by which he discovered it. It was in that last line of writing.

"Prudence is a virtue."

***

Kopurauth. Hamarskjold had not realised it would be so warm here. Of course he had known that Hadin was almost tropical, but this was oppressive to the native-born Arthurian, used more to the mountain frosts than the dense heat. In this atmosphere, the traditional Arthurian skapjar was inadvisable. It hung over his right shoulder, a thick cloak of animal hide lined with grey fur, fastened over the left breast with a small silver brooch. It fell to the small of his back, providing a dense layer of warmth which was ideal for the sub-arctic climate of Arthuria. Though a relic of ancient times, the skapjar still served a practical purpose - it was both warm and resistant to the biting winds - and was often seen at more formal events. It had earned itself a place as the traditional Arthurian dress, a folk costume that had become a symbol of the country as much as the Arthurian flag was. It had therefore become official custom to don the skapjar to overseas visits, at least for the welcome ceremony. For Thor, this was presently a custom which he believed was in much need of amending. In the humidity he could already feel his undershirt begin to slowly dampen with sweat. Praise Hadin, he thought, for their liberal alcohol laws. At least he could cool down with a cold lager in hand.

He stood at the top of the aircraft steps. Though it had been as luxurious as any private liner on the inside, the government aircraft was actually a converted military model and had retained its external appearance. It was a utilitarian dark-grey with letters and numbers stencilled all over its fuselage. At the front, just above the cockpit windows, were the words 'Luftforsvaren Makt' - Air Self-Defence Force - in plain black letters. It was not a pretty sight to see on the steaming tarmac, but it had gotten Thor halfway across Noctur.

He descended slowly. His cane was gripped tightly in his left hand, supporting a weak knee which was said to have been caused in a fight with a bear. For someone who was in a constant degree of pain, he moved with remarkable composure. The limp was evident, especially as he tackled the stairs, but no sign of discomfort appeared on his face. He moved with all the certainty befitting his dignity. Thus Arthuria greeted its hosts, with man slowly limping across the tarmac, a cane in one hand and a wholly inappropriate skapjar over the opposite shoulder.

His grace, Thor hoped, would make up for the less-than-impressive arrival. Finally reaching Nikastro, his eyes creased into a smile and he lowered his head in a bow of respect. When he raised his head once more, Thor placed his free hand on Nikastro's shoulder - a form of friendly greeting in Arthuria - and said, "Sæl, friend. Arthuria sends its greetings, and I bring my own with me. Let us speak, drink and be happy, and let's get this skapjar off my back before I faint."

by **Varisea** » Sun Apr 24, 2016 9:03 pm

Andrew Peterson leaned back into the soft leather chair of Executive Transport #001, taking another puff of his cigar as he did. ET#001, more commonly known as the Bus, was outfitted with nearly every luxury imaginable. Passengers still weren’t supposed to smoke, but the staff humored him. Of course, Andrew didn’t smoke often. He hated being controlled by anything, even his own body’s cravings. Also the smoke annoyed his wife, and that was a definite plus. Ilona Peterson was in her cabin, doubtlessly driving a maid out of her mind. Aside from the two of them (and the pilot of course), the only other passengers of note were Minister of State Delov Alekseych, General Valerian Galiaskarov, and Colonel Boris Gorbunov. The General was sitting beside him, uniform as spotless as always, flipping through a small book titled “How Not To Call Your Hadinian Friend’s Mother A Whore.” Andrew was honest enough with himself to admit that he wasn’t qualified to analyze a nation’s military capabilities, and had brought the General along for the ride. That was the official reason.

In reality, Valerian was something of an apprentice to Andrew, as the gods had not yet granted him a child of his own. And not, Andrew smirked briefly, for lack of trying. And until any such hypothetical descendent was fully grown, the future of the National Sovereignty Party was uncertain. Andrew had built that party with his own hands, turning a loose gaggle of businessmen, strongmen, and Sedian Loyalists into the most powerful political machine in Varisean history. But no matter what he did, NatSov’s core was far more fragile than most suspected. One simply couldn’t hope to combine dozens of different ideologies and ambitions without a strong, charismatic leader. They followed him out of personal loyalty, ambition, fear, and sheer political inertia, but when he inevitably passed they would come apart at the seams. Unless of course there was someone there ready to pick up his task, and Valerian was the best candidate for the role by far. He was intelligent and charismatic, the Defense Forces loved him. He was a favorite of the Conservative Party and beloved by the masses, a larger than life figure that many viewed as the model Varisean man. And best of all, completely indebted to Andrew. Andrew’s support had catapulted Valerian through the ranks, and they both knew it. Andrew was jerked out of his thoughts when Colonel Gorbunov spoke.

“We are beginning to land, sir.”

“Wonderful timing Boris,” Andrew hesitated, before continuing “go check on the wife, will you?”

The Colonel rolled his eyes in annoyance before about facing and marching towards the cabins. Andrew sighed in poorly disguised relief. Boris was the commander of the Executive Honor Guard, and had served Andrew all the way back when they were 1st Lieutenant Peterson and Sargent Gorbunov. He had saved Andrew’s life over a dozen times, and Andrew had never found fault with his methods. The only problem was that the man was a little… too eager. Andrew had to actually order him not to bring along an entire company of Guardsmen (“just in case”), and not to bring an assault rifle to the hotel. Andrew was certain that he was still carrying a small armory’s worth of weaponry on his person, but figured that they would cross that particular bridge when they got to it. As Gorbunov left Minister Delov Alekseych approached, a thick stack of files in hand.

“Delov,” Andrew greeted, “ready to meet with our new best friends forever?”

“Indeed Mr. Executive, although I’m afraid that my predictions about what we can actually accomplish here remain quite pessimistic.” Delov shrugged, before deadpanning “At least we know that the homeland has been left in steady hands.”

Andrew grinned. Before getting on the plane, just as he was saying his goodbyes to his brother Rasim and Deputy Executive Nikolai Ptyorych, he had made a point of (loudly) telling his brother to “Watch the house, walk the dog, and if I die on the trip, send me Ptyorych.” The terrified expression on Ptyorych’s face would definitely be worth all of his whining.

As the plane finally rolled to a stop Andrew subtly adjusted his uniform and sash¹ (stupid thing!) before throwing on his hat and striding confidently towards the door. A quick glance out the window showed who Andrew assumed was Fiete Nikastro, as well as some others. Judging by the heavy fur cloak covering his shoulder, the Arthurians had beaten them here. No matter, their incessant neutrality meant that they would never be as useful in an alliance compared to a nation with a proper military. He took his first step outside and admired the pleasantly warm (by Varisean standards) climate, before putting on his trademarked smile and heading towards the Envoy.

by **Hadin** » Wed May 04, 2016 11:43 am

The Variseans seemed to be handling the scorching Hadinian heat better than any of the other diplomats. One by one, as the delegates arrived and disembarked the diplomatic airplanes that carried them, Fiete Nikastro noticed that nearly all of them were sweating profusely.

The concept of "cold" to Fiete Nikastro involved sticking his hand inside of his freezer to defrost beef. His one and only trip out of the country, to Segland, at the [url=http://]forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=361638]formation of UNCA[/url], had taught him that "cold", as far as much of the rest of Noctur were concerned, meant essentially living in that freezer for several months out of the year. In Radiatia, he heard, there were portions of the country that never saw a day above freezing point.

No wonder those guys are all crazy...

Fiete Nikastro's sentiments towards Radiatia, Nui-ta, and the rest of the "non-UNCA" nations wasn't as harsh as the stance of a typical Hadinian Patrician towards those countries. He was one of only a few Hadinians who could understand and even sympathize with countries like Demonlonde or Arthuria, who were less than subtle about their feelings towards the aggressive foreign policy of the Axis. Although Nikastro certainly did not consider the Nui-tans in particular to friends, or even worthy of friendship, he did feel that for the greater good, tensions were going to have to be thawed.

It was thus his sincere hope that Nico Hass, the man who made the rules in Hadin and quite unfortunately, Fiete's boss, either saw reason or had the good sense to keel over before he could do anything that would prevent those tensions from going past a permanent freezing point. Although the little Septimist nation just north of Nui-ta had proven in the Third Algrabadi War that it was becoming a force to be reckoned with, Fiete was worried about the cost that continued aggression would pose.

He did not want to live in a country that would get the crap bombed out of it again by Radiatia, and he certainly did not want his wife, his adopted son, or any others that were precious to him to deal with the consequences of Nico Hass's agenda.

For this reason, as the wheels of each plane hit the tarmac, he resolved himself towards his own agenda. Leveraging the neutrality doctrines and lack of commitment by nations such as Arthuria, and perhaps even Demonlonde, would at least nullify them as threats and prevent further ways for Nico Hass to stir up more diplomatic trouble. Varisea being a more sympathetic nation, Nikastro had different plans on how to cross that proverbial bridge.

Plans...

"I've just been informed that the dispatches sent to the delegates did not include an itinerary..." an aide whispered into Nikastro's ear.

Oh shit...

"Well go get some, quickly. One for each delegation".

The aide scurried off as the first diplomat, the Daimonic Protodiangelos, approached.

Theanthê was a particularly interesting sight to the host party of Hadinians awaiting her, just for being a woman.

In Hadin, being a woman meant losing all opportunities to hold positions of leadership, or work for the government. Although the recent Hass Doctrine had been a surprise in increasing women's rights slightly within the tiny island nation, the truth was that women's rights was still a concept in its infancy in Hadin, and a concept with improbable survival rates as well.

Had she been meeting Nico Hass, Theanthê would very likely have been shunned altogether as a diplomat and been considered "hired help". So little was the regard by many Hadinian men for the "fairer sex". Thankfully, Fiete Nikastro was more welcoming than most Hadinian men, gaining funny looks from his aides and Janus Kafka for engaging with the First Emissary as if she were male.

"Good afternoon," he smiled pleasantly, speaking in English while returning the bow. For a nation of whom Latin was the national language, English was fairly easy to learn, but Fiete still found himself stumbling on some of the more Germanic aspects of the language. It was helping, slightly, that he was studying the Seglandic language in his spare time.

"I'm Envoy Fiete Nikastro, of the Council of Patricians. On behalf of High-Envoy Nico Hass, and the Council itself, I'd like to thank you for coming to Kopurauth, and welcome you to Kopurauth".

Noticing that Theanthê was sweating, he quickly ushered her into the waiting limousine, which had the air conditioning already turned on. Waiting on the Arthurian and Varisean delegations, he took a moment to step inside of the limousine as well, alongside Janis Kafka, who awkwardly introduced himself before remaining silent.

"You look as though you've got a question on your mind," Fiete smiled. "Something about the heat, maybe? I've always been quite surprised myself that we Hadinians are so pale and yet managed to wind up in this weather..."

"Allow me to tell you a little story about that," Fiete continued. "I'm sure the Daimonic Pambasileia has some faint remembrances of the Zanzeanic Empire, and with that, of Hadin and Nui-ta. Well Zanzes was quite a superstitious nation, believing simultaneously that albino persons were cursed, and capable of passing curses forward. To this end, the ancient Zanze found themselves in a predicament. They could not live amongst albinos, for fear of being cursed, but they could not eliminate the albinos, for fear of being cursed. Finally, they delegated a piece of land to exile such persons. From those exiled persons, descended the Hadinian race".

"Unfortunately, being pale in such heat leads to sunburn," Fiete rolled his eyes a bit, rolling up one sleeve a little.

"I feel asleep on my balcony while brushing up on my Seglandic".

Nikastro had to return to the tarmac as the Arthurian transport arrived in Kopurauth. The Arthurian arrival was indeed a sight to be seen, as the plain, utilitarian transport plane landed, and a limping man in an overbearing fur pelt emerged.

Kafka raised an eyebrow and stared blankly at Hammarskjöld, while a look of worry crossed Envoy Nikastro's face.

"Are the Arthurians joking?" Kafka asked Nikastro, with the first response from the Envoy being more along the lines of "is that man alright?"

"Sael, friend. Arthuria sends it greetings, and I bring my own with me. Let us speak, drink and be happy, and let's get this skappja off my back before I faint."

Nikastro flinched very, very slightly as Hammarskjöld placed a hand on his shoulder. Touch in Hadin was a concept associated with interpersonal intimacy, not necessarily involving a romantic connection, but certainly not commonplace on first meetings. Having his blind wife --- whom he hadn't met a week prior to their own wedding day --- merely touch his face to examine his features was startling enough to Nikastro, let alone any other Hadinian man placed into a position involving any touch.

He was quick to put a smile on his face, as if nothing had happened. Cultures were clashing now, ever so slightly. Nikastro pondered, at that moment, how very different Hadin was from the rest of the world. Those differences, and the blindness and ignorance surrounding them, were a definite part of the problem.

Of all the delegates who would arrive at Kopurauth today, Hammarskjöld was definitely the one suffering the most from the heat. Both Fiete Nikastro and Janus Kafka, the Councilman of Foreign Affairs, introduced themselves quickly before ushering Hammarskjöld into the limousine, next to his Daimonic counterpart, and mentioning that it was probably best if Hammarskjöld took this opportunity to remove his skappja.

Perhaps the most liberal aspect of Hadin's drinking laws was the fact that there was ale available on tap in the limousine. It was also perhaps a slight bit worrying that the driver of said limousine was in the middle of indulging himself as a hearty container of ale was offered to the Arthurian delegate.

The itineraries that the Daimonic and Arthurian delegates were given showed that they, alongside the Varisean delegation, would be taken to a hotel in Hadin to unpack, unravel, and get over any jet-lag that they may have been suffering from. This was less important for the Daimonic First Emissary than anyone else, as Demonlonde was so much closer to Hadin than either Arthuria or Varisea, at least as far as geographical distance was concerned.

Later that day --- in the evening, actually --- all three delegations would then get to reconvene with Fiete Nikastro and Janus Kafka later, to discuss specifics regarding UNCA, but also just to build up some international rapport. At individual times, Demonlonde first, then Arthuria, then Varisea, the next day would involve individual meetings with select members of the Council of Patricians. In the meantime, the delegates were also apparently being treated to dinner, and if they wished it, time was set aside for them to get acquainted with the city of Kopurauth.

Andrew Peterson had assumed wrong in thinking that the man he approached was the Envoy. He'd instead approached Janus Kafka, another member of the Council of Patricians (though not as prestigious as an Envoy), who was still quite happy to see him.

"Mr. Peterson!" Janus smiled, oddly-colored eyes flashing towards Peterson and shaking his hand warmly, before moving to greet the other delegates of the Variseans. Janus's eyes were oddly-colored, not because they possessed the striking violet shade that marked a Hadinian, but because they didn't. Janus instead had a sort of dark-blue to his eyes, with just a hint of the violet, and among the mostly albino Hadinians, Janus was further unusual for having brown hair and a very, very slight tan.

Some sort of ethnic minority, no doubt.

The Variseans were given the luxury of having a separate limousine from the other two delegations. Officially, this was merely because the Variseans possessed a larger delegation, than the Daimonic and Arthurian counterparts, which, besides some accompanying staff, were only one man (or woman) a piece. Unofficially, it was under the orders of Nico Hass, who wanted special attention paid to the Varisean delegation, as they were the ones with whom Hadin and UNCA would likely achieve the most positive progress.

It was supposed to have been that Fiete Nikastro, as the ranking member among the Hadinian receiving delegation, sit with the Variseans, and Kafka with the Daimonic and Arthurian delegations. Fiete, however, was not as much of a favoritist towards the Variseans, while Kafka felt very uncomfortable with the idea of doing official business with a woman.

It wasn't as much that Fiete didn't like the Variseans, as he ventured towards Peterson and bowed (which was a typical business greeting in Hadin). In truth, Fiete had a high opinion of the Variseans, sharing some of the same social views as Varisean culture, which was already strangely quite close to Hadinian culture. In all honesty, Fiete's emphasis on the other delegations was simply because that was where he felt the most effort to be needed.

After a moment of having chatted with the Envoy (and Councilman Kafka), the last group boarded the limousine caravan, and the ride to Bella Matira began. In the Varisean limousine was Janus Kafka, and in the other limousine was Fiete Nikastro, both eagerly (and a bit nervously) awaiting conversation with their honored guests as the limousine moved.

The two men didn't know that they'd both started off their conversations with their respective company in the exact same way.

"Ale, anyone?"

by **The Arthurian Isles** » Tue May 10, 2016 9:24 am

"Official directives, you know." Thor remarked, heading towards the limousine. "Foreign Affairs 'recommends' that our delegates arrive at host states in the national dress. They haven't travelled north of the Antarctic Circle, it seems." He removed the heavy skapjar and threw it to the sole Arthurian aide, following a few steps behind from the aircraft. The aide stopped in his tracks, grabbed the cloak from out of the air and then broke into a jog so as to catch up with Thor before he could get into the limousine. He grabbed his attention, leaning to whisper into Thor's ear.

"It would be best not to physically touch the Hadinians. Their culture frowns upon it."

Thor stopped for a moment, nodded, and then stooped to squeeze himself into the car. It had been a mistake, of that much he was certain, though it was an easy one to make for an Arthurian. His own culture stemmed from an egalitarian society based on familiarity and friendship - understandable for a country as homogenous as the Federation. Thor noted his error internally, but made no outward response. It was a popular Arthurian saying that 'we are our deeds', and so he would redeem himself and make his apologies known by not repeating his faux pas. This was neither the time nor the place for a spoken - and very public - apology, after all.

Thor bid farewell to his aide and slid into his seat.

"Sæl, friend." He greeted Teanthê, bowing his head as best he could in the confines of the car. "It is an honour for myself and my government to greet a representative of the Daimonic Pambasileia."

Resting his cane next to him, Thor let his left leg straighten out. The pain was barely noticeable nowadays, but it still did him good to stretch it out. In the air conditioned limousine he could begin to feel comfortable. He would be happy to stay in there for a good hour if it meant he would get away from the heat, but his duties trumped all; he nodded in appreciation when Fiete finally entered, the door was closed behind him, and the limousine began to make the journey towards Bella Matira - a more imposing edifice than the Arthurian was used to.

Thor had read up on Fiete, and from the brief meeting had already gotten a decent sizing up of him. He seemed far more moderate than the wider Hadinian government. Moderate, though, was just another word for pragmatic, and that was really what Thor liked about Nikastro. One could predict what the more hard-line Hadinians would want and do, and one could even alter one's behaviour to account for that. But to do so would still be to push against an obstacle far stauncher than what was needed to be confronted. Fiete, precisely because of his pragmatism, was someone Thor could work with. And on a more personal note, Hamarskjold had appreciated Nikastro brushing his touch on the shoulder under the rug so tactfully. That was not only the sign of a good diplomat (another indicator that the two could talk freely), but also an act of kindness.

"Ale, anyone?" These were the first words Fiete would speak to Thor in private, away from the pressures of the public eye. If anything needed to confirm his impression of the Hadinian, it was this. A good ale was always welcome, and it was welcome without any pomp or pretence. A simple question was all that was needed, and a simple question was all that Fiete had asked.

Thor smiled, his blue eyes dazzling with boyish mischief. "Ja, lekar¹. A horn² for me, thank you."

Thor, grateful for something to refresh him after the double-whammy of a long journey and the Hadinian heat, received his drink with a still face but plenty of joy in his heart. He made sure to raise a glass to his other guests, looking them in the eye and saying fairly stoutly, "Skars!"³ His first sip got him through roughly one quarter of his drink; Arthurians do not drink often, but they do drink deep.

Before he finished the ale - in four healthy sips at that - Thor looked to Fiete. He had been intrigued by the Hadinian invitation - indeed, the entire Storting had too - but also confused as to its purpose. It made sense, he believed, for the Hadinians to reach out for allies in this dangerous world, but Varisea and Demonlonde held far more potential than Arthuria ever could.

"It is an odd thing for an Arthurian Federal Minister to be on foreign soil on such official business." He said, his face as still as ever. "We have been neutral for over one hundred and fifty years, and have no plans to change that. We have no interest in fighting others' wars, so we would make poor friends in a world as divided as this one. Though the Storting was pleased to have received it, your government's invitation to Kopurauth was unexpected given our unwillingness to join with you in the UNCA." Thor took another sip of his drink.

"So tell me, what do you want from Arthuria?"

¹ 'Lekar' literally means 'tasty' or 'delicious'. It is also a common Arthurian colloquialism meaning 'great', 'cool' or any other very general, positive response.

² A horn is an Arthurian unit for measuring alcohol. It comes from the fact that many Arthurian pubs still serve beers in a horn, which has now been standardised to 750ml. In this context, it simply means any amount of the drink, however.

³ 'Skars' is the Arthurian term for 'cheers'. It is considered bad luck not to look others in the eye when making this toast.

by **Hadin** » Sat May 21, 2016 2:45 pm

The Arthurian Isles wrote:"Ale, anyone?" These were the first words Fiete would speak to Thor in private, away from the pressures of the public eye. If anything needed to confirm his view of the Hadinian, it was this. A good ale was always welcome, and it was welcome without any pomp or pretence. A simple question was all that was needed, and a simple question was all that Fiete had asked.

Thor smiled, his blue eyes dazzling with boyish mischief. "Já, velslekker¹. A hoorn² for me, thank you."

In a gesture oddly against diplomatic protocol, it was Fiete himself who dispensed the alcohol. Part of the reason for this was because the attendant (what were such official proceedings without attendants?) was distracted by the limosuine driver, another part was that Fiete himself was also quite thirsty, and part of it was simply not to keep his new-found guests waiting. After checking with the Daimonic diplomat as to her own thirst and preference of beverages, Fiete dispensed one sizable glass of ale for each waiting consumer.

The Arthurian Isles wrote:Thor, grateful for something to refresh him after the journey as well as the Hadinian heat, received his drink with a still face but plenty of joy in his heart. He made sure to raise a glass to his other guests, looking them in the eye and saying fairly stoutly, "Skål!"³ His first sip got Hammarskjöld through roughly one quarter of his drink. Arthurians did not drink often, but they did drink deep.

"Skål, friend," Fiete smiled, raising his glass, maintaining eye contact, and then quickly indulging himself to a drink from his own glass. It was a relief to see that there were some things Arthuria and Hadin could relate on, culturally, with drinking culture and etiquette being nearly identical, as far as Fiete could tell. The only difference was that the Hadinian term for "cheers" was 'ave', --- but that was a moot point, and certainly not expected during a drink with a foreign diplomat. Hearing the different ways to say "cheers" around the world was strangely interesting; during a late-night talk conducted via video conference with Nui-ta's Paolo Medici (Fiete was the only Patrician to maintain that Nui-ta and Hadin should attempt to reach some sort of peace), Fiete had been surprised to hear that Medici, with all his Nui-tan mannerisms, somehow held over the use of "ave" from his Hadinian ancestors, and could even explain the origin of the term.

The Arthurian Isles wrote:"It is an odd thing for an Arthurian Federal Minister to be on foreign soil on such official business." He said, his face as still as ever. "We have been neutral for over one hundred and fifty years, and have no plans to change that. We have no interest in fighting others' wars, so we would make poor friends in a world as divided as this one. Though the Storting was pleased to have received it, your government's invitation to Kopurauth was unexpected given our unwillingness to join with you in the UNCA." Thor took another sip of his drink.

"So tell me, what do you want from Arthuria?"

"To extend a hand of friendship, UNCA or not," Fiete said curtly.

These were his own beliefs, rather than those of the Hass Administration. Most of the Patricians knew damnably well that if he could have had his way, High-Envoy Nico Hass would never have sent for anyone but the Variseans. They had been invited anyway because of Fiete Nikastro (and a couple of other moderates), who were growing increasingly concerned with the belligerence of Nico Hass's foreign affairs policy. With the position of High-Envoy being a life-long one, Fiete and others like him worried that there was very little time to change the course of Hadinian foreign relations.

And with this belief, they were secretly doing everything they could to make Nico's life hell --- this visit was very much a bone thrown by Nico Hass to Fiete, in the hopes of placating him.

"I believe that part of the danger in this world is simply not understanding each other as much as we could. Whether you wish to form an alliance with Hadin or not is an outside issue --- I simply fear that if there isn't a channel for discussion established soon between each of us, then there never will be. This visit is admittedly my attempt to rectify this".

This was the truth, a cold hard truth, but one that had to be admitted from the get-go. Although officially, the Hadinians were simply inviting Demonlonde and Arthuria to at least "remain neutral" (or as Hass would rather have said it, "stay out of the damned way"), there were unofficial reasons brewing, for which the security of the region was perhaps at stake.

"I am aware that your nation in particular is considering offering hands of friendship to the other nations of Noctur in the spirit of neutrality. I have no wish to stop you. In fact, I personally wish to join you. However, as beneficial as something like this could be, I am also sadly aware that my...ugh, superior would never agree to a declaration of neutrality on the part of Hadin, despite technically wanting one from Arthuria in regards to the...issues surrounding other countries in Noctur".

"While I must therefore officially ask for your continued neutrality in regards to all parties within Noctur...I must ask you personally, what does Arthuria want from us?"

by **Demonlonde** » Wed Jun 01, 2016 2:44 pm

Theanthê listened appreciatively to Nikastro's explanation of his national complexion, wondering privately whether he had read that question off of her or if that was the first thing the Hadinians were accustomed to having to explain to foreigners.

"We would seem to share geographic incongruities," she said, offering a caramel forearm for comparison. "Though you'd be as likely to catch a sunburn in our mountains, I fear."

She marked, with interest, as she sat patiently and watched the choreography of arrivals and greetings unfold around her, the reactions of the Hadinian men to her -- a female presence in what was, to them, an unequivocally masculine sphere of activity. She knew of Hadin's deep-seated gender disparities, had read their political enshrinement in the Hass Doctrine; how different to see it played out before her, to observe concretely their foreignness inscribed in unfamiliar patterns of stimulus and response -- especially as one coming, as she did, from a place where such essentialistic gender hierarchies were long gone from the culture. She could not help but draw up contrasting cultural images of Daimonic gender fluidity -- such as the Thunderer, the chief god of those the ancient Daimonioi had brought with them out of their forgotten primordial homeland, a chthonic being of androgynous bisexuality, or the urban psychedelic cults, whose erotic rites braided the male and female energies of their initiates into forms undreamt of by the ancient dualists -- and imagine these Hadinian men transported to Demonland, and wonder how long such stiffness would last in the face of the Demonkin's pervasive polymorphisms.

She shelved these musings as the Envoy returned, ushering the Arthurian representative into the car beside her. "The honor is mutual," she said, returning the bow graciously. That gesture, at least, seemed to be a shared one between all three cultures present. She accepted her glass from Fiete, and sipped it leisurely while she listened to the conversation between the other two occupants. The chill and carbonation were welcome in the heat, though the bitterness was... unfamiliar, if not altogether unpleasant -- her own preferences for alcohol tended towards the honeyed and spiced.

The Hadinians' stress on neutrality set off warning bells in her mind, begging, as it did, the obvious question: just what did they want Arthuria and the Pambasileia to remain neutral to? One did not typically go around asking for explicit -- not to mention one-sided -- declarations of non-interference unless there was something specific to be interfered with. Was the High Envoy about to break the long-standing Karasian standoff? That was a grave notion, especially considering the Basilikon's consensus to cultivate ties with Nui-ta and Zanzes, leveraging their shared cultural connections via the old Zanzeanic empire. The possibility alone would necessitate an acceleration of the necessary diplomatic contacts with Nui-ta.

"You make it sound as if you and the High Envoy are somewhat at odds," she interjected, adopting a tone of innocent, light-hearted curiosity. "Nonetheless, I agree completely that open channels for communication are essential. If I may ask a personal question in turn, what would you hope to accomplish through such channels?"

by **The Arthurian Isles** » Fri Jun 03, 2016 9:17 am

Thor broke out into the slightest hint of a smile, before catching himself and restoring his expression to its default, blank slate. This was where diplomacy truly gathered its momentum - not in the meeting rooms and offices, but over a horn of ale and what can best be described as a 'chat'. It was a chat after all, for Thor noted that while Fiete was playing along with what one assumed to be the official Hadinian line he was also pushing his own personality into the conversation. And with that came an acceptance of the mildest of tensions between a belligerent Hass and a more moderate, pragmatic Nikastro.

"Well you're right about discussion. I've learned the power of communication the hard way - marriage." Thor raised his glass to that and took one final sip, leaving a small amount of ale frothing at the base. It was a custom to do so in Arthuria, of which few could remember the origins. In fact, the reason was to prevent one from ever having two full drinks, which in times before breathalysers was the legal limit.

"Arthuria, so long as it is neutral, will maintain channels of communication with all countries. To expand on your request, we have in times past also acted as protecting powers, enabling third parties who lack the ability to communicate with one another to do so through our own embassies and consulates. If diplomacy is your concern, fear nought. Arthuria is always ready to talk, and more, we are always willing to mediate."

Teanthê had made a shrewd observation that Fiete was pushing for neutrality in a very specific situation. What the point of communications would be was therefore of interest to Thor. But he was also acting under the authority of the Storting, and so could only offer those benefits of greater communications that Arthuria was at present willing to commit to. Of course, having noted the friction between Hass and Nikastro, he was also unwilling to completely close off other potential forms of communication, especially if the Envoyship were to enter a...transition period.

"But I think that you are also seeking more personal routes for discussion, perhaps? Ones that do not require the time and transparency of official procedures. The Storting has established hotlines in the past; it could consider doing so once more."

Thor straightened out his injured leg, which was wont to stiffen up if kept in one position for too long.

"As for neutrality, you needn't have invited me here to discuss that. I can unequivocally say that Arthuria will remain neutral in any geopolitical disputes in Noctur. We will favour no one party over another, and will grant equal opportunities for relations with all states. Being a neutral power gives us obligations, which we have fulfilled. It also bestows on us rights, specifically the right not to be subject to foreign attack. You ask what we want from you. We want to be assured that you will respect those rights. We do not ask for a Hadinian declaration of neutrality, but simply the knowledge that Hadin respects our declaration of neutrality."

"Other than that, I can only remind you that Arthuria's markets are open to your country should you wish to accede to the Vestmanaeyjar Accords, and that in matters of the global commons - the environment especially - we are always willing to co-operate. Those topics, I think, are for another time though. I sense that security is our concern right now."

by **Hadin** » Mon Jun 06, 2016 10:48 am

Demonlonde...

Demonlonde wrote:Theanthê listened appreciatively to Nikastro's explanation of his national complexion, wondering privately whether he had read that question off of her or if that was the first thing the Hadinians were accustomed to having to explain to foreigners.

"We would seem to share geographic incongruities," she said, offering a caramel forearm for comparison. "Though you'd be as likely to catch a sunburn in our mountains, I fear."

"Ugh, I wouldn't doubt that. The way I burn in the sunlight, I wouldn't be surprised if my next sunburn comes from a glimpse of the sun on the television," Fiete joked. "Tourists to Hadin ask about the whole sunburn thing all the time. I can't really blame them..."

Demonlonde wrote:The Hadinians' stress on neutrality set off warning bells in her mind, begging, as it did, the obvious question: just what did they want Arthuria and the Pambasileia to remain neutral to? One did not typically go around asking for explicit -- not to mention one-sided -- declarations of non-interference unless there was something specific to be interfered with. Was the High Envoy about to break the long-standing Karasian standoff? That was a grave notion, especially considering the Basilikon's consensus to cultivate ties with Nui-ta and Zanzes, leveraging their shared cultural connections via the old Zanzeanic empire. The possibility alone would necessitate an acceleration of the necessary diplomatic contacts with Nui-ta.

"You make it sound as if you and the High Envoy are somewhat at odds," she interjected, adopting a tone of innocent, light-hearted curiosity. "Nonetheless, I agree completely that open channels for communication are essential. If I may ask a personal question in turn, what would you hope to accomplish through such channels?"

"Well, I really hate to have to acknowledge the validity of that question...but I have to acknowledge the validity of that question, so here's my answer".

"The High Envoy and I don't always see eye-to-eye on many things. This goes up to and includes the tensions here in Karas. Now, I don't advocate for a war or a heightening of tensions at all, but...I can't say that things like that won't happen just because I vehemently disagree".

"Some people in Hadin's leadership may be misguided enough to consider closing those channels. Closing such channels would be detrimental to the maintenance of peace --- if we cannot communicate, then how can we work together? By opening and maintaining such channels, I simply hope to keep everyone's options open for discussion and diplomacy, as opposed to the alternative of war and aggression".

Arthuria...

The Arthurian Isles wrote:"Well you're right about discussion. I've learned the power of communication the hard way - marriage."

At this, Fiete burst out into a laugh, before adding, "Wives have a funny way of forcing you to learn to consider others, quickly. In between learning to co-exist with my wife, and having to co-operate with her in regards to the health of an infant....it's quite the humbling learning experience".

This was an unexpected response, quite likely, for anyone who read the Hass Doctrine. Societal expectations in Hadin regarding gender disparity (especially within marriage), were quite different from other portions of the world in that there was far less of an emphasis on communication. Men were expected to lead --- women to follow. Marriages in Hadin were less of romantic affairs, and more theological and legal formalities. Specifically, marriage delegated a woman to the maintenance of the a man's estate, and to the care (and bearing) of children, in exchange for certain legal and financial responsibilities of a man towards the woman.

Such a climate was not suited for love, given that husbands were expected to be custodians, and wives to be servile --- rather than partners. In this regard too, perhaps both of the visitors within the limousine could tell that there was yet another thing unusual and yet poignant about Fiete.

The Arthurian Isles wrote:"But I think that you are also seeking more personal routes for discussion, perhaps? Ones that do not require the time and transparency of official procedures. The Storting has established hotlines in the past; it could consider doing so once more."

Thor straightened out his injured leg, which was wont to stiffen up if kept in one position for too long.

"As for neutrality, you needn't have invited me here to discuss that. I can unequivocally say that Arthuria will remain neutral in any geopolitical disputes in Noctur. We will favour no one party over another, and will grant equal opportunities for relations with all states. Being a neutral power gives us obligations, which we have fulfilled. It also bestows on us rights, specifically the right not to be subject to foreign attack. You ask what we want from you. We want to be assured that you will respect those rights. We do not ask for a Hadinian declaration of neutrality, but simply the knowledge that Hadin respects our declaration of neutrality."

"Well thankfully, I can say that the Hass Administration will be respectful of that neutrality. High-Envoy Hass is the type of person who won't bother with Demonlonde or Arthuria if he himself is not bothered..."

Fiete's eyes narrowed, "...representing the official views of the Hass High-Envoyship, I should regrettably tell you both to consider that carefully".

And then, his eyes relaxed. "Transparency is typically a wonderful thing, but sometimes I've noticed it can be a bit...dangerous".

He was making a sharp understatement --- Hass would certainly have throttled him by now for even the first mention of a back-channel between Arthuria, Demonlonde, and Hadin in the event of a regime change, or even just to keep some channel of dialogue open in the event that Hass closed down everything else. Yet, Fiete could ascertain that at least Thor, if not everyone in the room, seemed wise to the notion that the friction between Nikastro and Hass would mean in the end that there could only be one.

Hadin would soon have to choose between a belligerent man, unwilling to work with much of Noctur, or the more pragmatic man sitting before Theante and Thor, whose own ascension to power would not come without the consequences of upsetting the current balance in the world --- unless that was what was most beneficial, in which case maybe it would not be so bad.

"Perhaps a way to circumvent a few prying eyes here in the second-world would not be so bad. Fully respecting your neutrality over the matter, of course..."

by **The Arthurian Isles** » Fri Jun 10, 2016 7:47 am

"As I say, Arthuria will provide no bother to your country, nor to the Pambasileia." Thor nodded to Teanthê, almost as an aside, but it was an important acknowledgement of the universality of Arthuria's neutrality. There had been no trouble between the Federation and the Pambasileia in the past, but the I-SDF¹ was reporting that through all the noise there was distinct chatter about a sustained Daimonic dialogue with Nui-ta. He thought it best to prevent any concerns arising with Arthuria's far-off neighbour while he could. "If you seek a legal guarantee of that pledge, I can direct you to our Declaration of Neutrality. I hope, however, that my country's deeds for the past century-and-a-half can provide a more concrete backing to what I assure you is a solemn promise of non-interference."

Thor straightened out his leg once more. He often had to do so before he embarked on a lengthier discussion in case he neglected to do so in the heat of political debate. More than once he had finished a meeting of the Storting but been forced to stay in the council chamber for another half an hour while blood returned to his injured leg.

"I have a personal motto. Rules are for the obedience of fools and the guidance of wise men." He looked around at the other politicians with his penetrating stare. Thor's eyes told a deeper story than his facial expression - or lack thereof - ever could. "I will have to tell the Storting what has been discussed during this most enjoyable visit. They will pass this on to the Folkting and the Landting, and from them the Arthurian people will discover what it is we agree upon here and now. But a state has secrets, necessarily."

Thor stopped, looking around the space as if inspecting it. The quiet while he did so was awkward, if not expectant.

"I assume that the fact we are discussing this here means that it is a safe space. When I said that Arthuria values dialogue, I meant it. An important part of our neutrality is that we maintain channels of communication with all countries, not discriminating in favour of any one. If an official line of communication is severed because of the inaction of one side, however, our treatment of our Nocturian neighbours ceases to be equal, and we are consequently obliged to seek alternative channels of communication. It is the only way to assure our neutrality."

He paused once more, more for his own benefit than anyone else's.

"What I am saying is this: leave it to me." Thor looked Fiete straight in the eyes. The dazzling purple met the icy blue in a moment of sincerity. "I can make sure channels are opened. It is, I believe they call it, a diplomatic gesture. We" - presumably he was referring to Fiete and himself on a personal level - "can improve the communications between our two countries, and High Envoy Hass can save face. I would not want to offend your government after all."

"But why are we discussing this as though it is a matter of cloak and daggers? This is simply one country speaking to another. We do it every day, everywhere." Thor, having acquired another drink seemingly out of nowhere, took another deep sip.

"Of course," he said, lowering his glass, "Arthuria will have to reveal the extent of any diplomatic discourse with Hadin at some point. What will determine when that will be is events. Depending on how those events transpire, I for one am personally keen to see tensions reduced in this fine region. While the Storting may not agree with me yet, I am sure that Arthuria's neutrality could at that point become an opportunity rather than a restraint."

¹ The I-SDF is the Information Self-Defence Force. The misplaced hyphen in the acronym is intentional. It is Forsvaren Makt's fourth branch and conducts the majority of Arthuria's foreign intelligence and cyber-defence.

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