A Raelosi Meeting | TWI Only | Closed

[Solaryia]

A Raelosi Meeting

---

OOC

During a time of tension rising across the Isles, the historically divided and warring states of Raedlon have never seemed closer to having peace. The Raedlon Organization of States, formed three years earlier by Nhoor and Solaryia is finally starting on its expansion to integrate the rest of the region under the umbrella of unity, starting with the two nations of Belantica and Scaedia, the latter having been a long time Solaryi rival. After months of talks regarding trade, military, and diplomatic policy, the two prospective nations finally seem poised to fully join the alliance, all that’s left is to ratify the treaty.

This will be a rather casual, mostly character based RP between the leaders and important officials of the four nations that will soon make up ROS. They’ll discuss the various issues pertaining to their nations over dinner, and just generally get to know each other in a less formal setting before Scaedia and Belantica officially apply for membership within the organization. This also acts as a prelude to the large heatwave soon to affect the majority of eastern Raedlon, causing a variety of adverse effects, the most pressing of which to Solaryia will make itself announced nearing the end of the RP. There’s not really an end goal or specific topics that those attending must discuss, and various ideas are welcomed to be discussed in TGs.

---

Characters Involved:

Conti Bellarys, Consul of Solaryia
Orumha Cany-Jwchmiqen, Prime Minister of Nhoor
Ashi Banglar, President of Scaedia

Ara Barus, Scaedic Chief of Foreign Affairs
Krysztan Opel, Scaedic Chief of Defense

Torbjørn Hånna, Solaryi aid to the Consul

---

IC

Herrepalis, just outside of Eridanis

Rain pounded against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the dining room in the Herrepalis, obscuring the setting sun under a dark grey blanket of clouds, and hiding Erune Bay under thin wisps of mist. Set high on one of the hills surrounding the bay, the palace held clear views of the surrounding area and the city beyond, the lights of which could still partially be seen through the fog and rain. The lights of various ships and multicoloured bridges dotted the surface of the choppy water, along with the glistening reflections of the countless glass skyscrapers covering the island, the tallest of which disappearing into the clouds above. Periodically, flashes of distant lighting within the clouds would light up the city, and occasionally one would strike so close that it illuminated the Consul’s face as she stood next to the window. As another rumble of thunder shook the building, she pondered as to when the weather would clear up. Spring in eastern Solaryia normally brought rain along with it, however it had been a long while since the Consul could recall storms like these lasting for this long, and it had been days since she’d seen a clear sky.

Behind the Consul, the dining room itself provided a stark contrast to the glimmering, modern city across the bay. Styled during the opulence of the Regal Era, the room was decorated in luxurious ebony wood and bronze, with polished marble floors. Bronze chandeliers and a large fireplace at the side of the room opposite to the window crackled, emanating a warm orange-yellow glow, giving the room a warm, almost cozy feeling, a pleasant relief from the wind and rain outside. In the center of the room was a large wooden table, ornately carved, decorated on top with candles and golden embossed plate settings, as well as name cards for the attendees. This wasn’t the large room traditionally used for state dinners, and notably absent were any cameras or press figures, as Bellarys had intended.

“That was a close one. I counted 4 kilometers,” Hånna remarked, walking into the room as another rumble of thunder echoed overhead. He’d walked into the room nearly unnoticed, going over to the edge of the dining table and inspecting all the place arrangements one final time.

“Jæ, that’s one of the closest strikes so far,” Conti replied, turning to her aide, who almost looked like a shadow, silhouetted in front of the fireplace. “I feel bad for the other leaders. They had to endure a plane ride down here in the weather, and now they can’t even enjoy the scenery as they drive up here,” she gave a small grin, walking over to the opposite side of the dining table from Hånna. As the Consul looked across the room, she was glad that this was one of the calmer, more private events on their schedule. They’d have far more public, and rather boring things to do the next day.

“Speaking of, when are they arriving again?”

“Ah, well that’s why I’ve come to visit you. The first cars have just arrived.”

[Scaedia]

President Ashi Banglar sat in the back of the armored limousine, his wrinkled eyes slowly rolling across the a newspaper bearing the name Ten Scaedodej. With a sigh, he closed it and turned towards his two fellow passengers who all spoke the tonal language of Scaedic.

“The Department of Agriculture has every reason to believe a drought is inevitable at this rate,” began the soft voice of Chief Ara Barus. Her accent was distinctly southwestern Scaedic, far more melodic than the gruff northern accent of the other passenger, Chief Krysztan Opel.

“We shouldn’t mention that to the Solaryi, a hit to our agriculture exports combined with the war we all know is inevitable-“

“A war we will have no part in!” Barus spoke, her voice raised. “But you’re right. There’s no way we won’t be hurt. Guarantee you oil prices will be so high no one will drive.”

The president glanced at the two, weighing his response. Just five months ago they’d been running against each other for the office of president. He smiled to himself. The fact that he got the leaders of the Social Democrats and the Conservatives into the back of the limo at all was a testament to his diplomacy. If he could get them to play nice he was certain this dinner would go well. Finally, he spoke.

“Then we had better get to work fixing the railways, haven’t we Chief Barus?” Barus smiled. Opel rolled his eyes. Banglar sighed. He knew better than to make a joke like this.

“The daened in charge of transportation wouldn’t know how to count money if there wasn’t numbers printed on it. Outsource it I say, the national transportation company-“

“Opel! Watch your mouth,” protested Barus.

“What’s the matter, ashamed of our mother tongue?” Opel let out a cackle and slapped his leg, rattling the medals pinned to his shirt. They read things like “Meritorious Service in His Majesty’s Army” and “Order of Saint Michael, 1st Class.” Banglar let out a small snort before seeing the annoyance on Barus’s face.

“She is right though, Chief Opel. I don’t know how good their Scaedic is. They might know what you mean when you call them daened or szatel. At any rate, it looks like we’re here.”

As President Banglar said this, the driver of the limousine informed them that they had arrived. Their security detail, dressed in the gold and blue of Scaedic uniforms, opened the doors at the back of the limousine and ushered the politicians out. Barus opened an umbrella and frowned as Opel ducked underneath it. She made a snide comment about him being a former special operative afraid of rain and he simply cursed under his breath. The three were led inside, stepping silently through the puddles forming on the ground. Opel jumped at the sound of a crack of thunder, rattling his medals once again.

“At least we were not planning an outing in this weather. Or were we? I wasn’t invited if we were,” the president joked to his two cabinet members as they entered the building. Neither responded, choosing to busy themselves with taking care of the shared umbrella. Ashi Banglar tied a loose shoelace and considered the situation. Despite their political differences, they all agreed on one thing: Scaedia needed membership in the RoS. If he pulled this off tonight and convinced his Raelosi kin that Scaedia had been “reformed,” so to speak, surely the world’s opinion on the nation would shift. Just 36 years ago he and Barus could have been arrested on the grounds of their families’ heritages and declared political prisoners and dissident enemies of the state. As he finished the last loop of his shoelace he stood up and introduced himself to the entrants approaching to speak to them.

“Thank you, esteemed Solaryi hosts. I am President Ashi Banglar. With me are my trusted cabinet members, Chief of Foreign Affairs Ara Barus, and Chief of Defense Krysztan Opel. Now, I am starving from our flight. What’s on the agenda?”

[Nhoor]

“We really should get the central nations of Raedlon invest in the high-speed railway between Sārruc and Eridanis”, the Prime Minister complained while she was trying to put her hair back in order. “It is long overdue!” She and the Defence Minister Col. Pharus Parhecuch as well as their secretaries were now on their way in two large limousines from the airport of the Solaryian capital Eridanis to their destination, the so called Herrepalis, where Prime Minister Orumha Cany would meet the leaders of Solaryia, Belantica, and Scaedia as a prelude to a potential membership of the latter two countries of the Raedlon Organization of States. After a rather bumpy landing that made even the Colonel swear loudly, they hadn’t managed to make a dry passage from the aircraft to their waiting cars. The Prime Minister hoped that there would be time and opportunity to change clothes before dinner.

“Weather like this would probably have knocked out half of the catenary”, her secretary, Mr Jobīd Onher, a thin, boring looking man of around 30 years old, replied drily. “It would not look very nice in the press if we got stranded in Maesefreoria.”
“Yes, well… It’s probably better for the environment”, Cany retorted.
“What; standing still in Maesefreoria?” the secretary asked incredulously.
“No, no; travelling by train!” She sighed. “So, what is on the agenda?”
“We are now on our way to the Herrepalis, where we will have dinner with the other heads of government.”
“Good, I could use some normal food”, the Prime Minister said as she observed a particularly large eruption of lightning forming a web between threatening clouds.

“I’m curious how the Scaedians will behave themselves”, she continued after a pause. “Their history is known of course, but they claim to have let certain disreputable items of their past behind them. Personally I would let anyone into ROS if it would mean that we’d have a comfortable high-speed rail connection accross Raedlon, but that’s not a very professional political opinion to have, is it now, Jobīd?” She laughed loudly.
“No Ma’am”, Jobīd replied.

The car took a few turns and then came to a standstil. “I think we’re there”, the Prime Minister said. “Ohh..”, she said in admiration of the building in front of which they stopped; “We are definitely not in Maesefroria today! Look at that marvellous architecture! How old do you think this building is?”
“According to the data that I received, it was built in the so called Regal Era”, the secretary said, “but I’m afraid I don’t know any specific dates. I’m sure your host will be able to entertain you with those facts.”
“I should hope so; I will keep you informed!”

The car was approached by various people trying to keep umbrellas in one piece. The Prime Minister left her car, followed by the Defence Minister from the other car, and they tried to run as fast but dignified as possible to the main entrance of the building, leaving their secretaries and the staff of the Herrepalis to handle their luggage.

“My gods!” she spoke in Nhoor to nobody in particular when she had reached cover. “That was hardly funny!” She switched to English upon seeing someone. “Good evening; here are the Nhoor”, she said, trying to put up a hint of joking cheerfulness, while the weather loudly manifested itself once more. “I hope our entrance hasn’t been too thunderous?”