A Meeting of Giants (IC, GD and TEP only)

[Lamoni]

A Meeting of Giants

( OOC Thread )

It had begun with a chance of exchange of ambassadors between two regions who had had little to no contact previously, perhaps some whispers between a nation or two in some dark corner of the world, or maybe some third party had heard something that one or the other had said or done, and passed it on to the other party. Either way, that exchange of ambassadors had eventually blossomed into a full-fledged diplomatic meeting between the nations of two powerful regions, hosted in the Free Republic of Lamoni, for the simple reason that during the previous unofficial negotiations between the Free Republic, and the Empire of Xoriet, these two nations had gotten to know one another, and as such, Lamoni had become an ideal site for the negotiations.

Near Hvarten, Lamoni

The nation itself was no older than the eighteen hundreds, but in such a short amount of time, the Free Republic had become a major player in global armament, global politics, and had more than even dabbled in global finance. So it was only natural that when the Free Republic hosted a major diplomatic event, that the event would be held near the city where the first refugees that would eventually found the Lamonian nation had landed on what would become Lamonian soil.

Inside the diplomatic hall, final preparations were being rapidly completed. Various fruits, breads, and cheeses were being wheeled into position along the far wall, where the various representatives would be able to satiate any hunger pangs that they might be feeling before the dinner the opening dinner that would be held later in the day, and water, iced tea, and various fruit juices were being poured into the drink fountains, which would provide a soft splashing sound in the background during the discussions. A mini-bar had also been provided for the delegates, in case any of them preferred a harder drink. The rest of the room was decorated in soft red and blues, with white to tie the room together in colors that were part of the Lamonian flag, with plenty of chairs and low tables around which delegates could gather in order to mix and mingle before talks began, the point of this meeting being for these nations to get together and see how one could help another, after all. As many of these nations had never met one another before, it was also sure to be a den of intrigue, deals, and maybe even some personality conflicts.

Hvarten International Airport

An entire half of Hvarten International Airport had been shut down for the exclusive use of the guests that would be arriving for the conference, which is something that while it had been announced to the general public well in advance, was still causing transportation headaches, what with the airport being a major domestic hub for the state airline LamoniAir. Other airports in the area had been tapped to handle some of the normal air traffic that Hvarten International would normally be responsible for, and an entire fighter-support group of one hundred twenty-eight LY909 Sparrowhawk multi-role fighter aircraft were patrolling the skies in the area in order to provide for the safety of the diplomatic and other personnel who were attending the diplomatic summit. On the ground, a full Mechanized Infantry Division had been posted, and limousines provided for each national delegation would be escorted by the Lamonian Special Protection Service operatives to the diplomatic hall. While the Lamonian intelligence services had no information that anyone would try to attack any of the delegates while they were on Lamonian soil, the security provisions were still impressive regardless. The government of the Free Republic was determined that not one of the delegates would be harmed while they were here, and that determination had filtered down to the security services, who essentially had the whole city on lock-down, with special security measures having been implemented for the duration of the summit. While these measures would allow the ordinary citizens of the city to get on with their own business, anyone who went into any of the heightened security areas dealing with the summit would be asked their business in the area, and could be carted off to jail if they tried to bypass the security measures. Even the various hotels where the delegations would be staying were being watched over, the rooms therein having been booked months in advance.

Waiting for the first foreign delegates to arrive, President Stinson, Foreign Minister Tanya Ley, and various functionaries were trying to keep up with the un-ending tide of paperwork that any large government seems to generate reams of for those in charge to go over, approve, or take other appropriate action as they saw fit. In the case of the President, the paperwork that he was reading detailed proposed reforms to Lamonian resource procurements overseas, and how it might be better for the Free Republic to open up that part of the Lamonian economy to more foreign suppliers. While Lamoni was rich in things like oil, iron, steel, and Titanium, there were other resources that the country was not so blessed with, and increasing the stockpiles of these materials would not hurt the nation in the long-run, so long as the suppliers were reputable. This was one of the things which the President would attempt to address during the conference, if he got a chance to do so, as well as seeing if any of the other nations might be amenable to economic, political, military, intelligence, or other deals.

While there was a television monitor in the room which would allow him to see if any of the other delegations had landed, President Stinson had also informed his staff to let him know if any of the delegations arrived, so that he and the Foreign Minister could go out to the tarmac and greet them with all of the pomp and circumstance that diplomatic protocol required. Stinson found all the tit for tat diplomatic formalities to be tiresome, and much preferred to see who the person or people that he was dealing with were behind the political/diplomatic mask that so many seemed to put on during the 'first encounter,' as he called it. That time when you are going to a foreign nation that you've never been to before, and were dealing with foreign leaders and delegates that one had never met before.

[Esalonia]

In the over 4,000 year history of civilization in Esalonia, nobody would realize it would have become self-sufficient on its needs, raise a healthy population, and fund a large military, being no older than just from the 1800s when Joseph Roissel successfully declared the Commonwealth after two years of bloody revolution, and dissolved the religious barrier between Marshism practitioners and Christians. In the succeeding two centuries Esalonia would see itself partaking in some of humanity's greatest leaps, from beginning of the construction of the ESS John Dave Havencross on 1980 to the landing on the moon, which is now dotted with footprints and flags of various nations.

It would also see itself bathed in another bloody revolution in the 1990s to unseat the dictator that had oppressed Esalonia's citizens, and after being an isolationist state for nearly 30 years Esalonia was already open to the world, but left vulnerable for change, whether the change be benevolent or destructive. Second thereafter was the Second Civil War, a match between ISE, NaME, Bendicion, and Esalonia for control of Esalonian lands. The invaders, spearheaded by Bendicion, did not ever place troops on Esalonian soil, with the exception of Bendicion deploying 300 troops for a special mission. The war ended, and Adenoyd Haynkel, whose real name is classified to the public, was sentenced to spending the rest of his life in jail.

Now, it has been a few months, and Esalonia has changed face, turned over a new leaf, and began to partake in international politics, a total opposite of what it was nearly half a century ago.

---

Roseville AFB, District 4, Esalonia
Esalonian WA Representative Garren Pritchards

Greater Dienstad, a region with hyper-militarized nations. Lyras holds the title for one of the biggest militaries in Greater Dienstad. Probably one of the weakest would be Esalonia, as it only had 12 million active soldiers in its disposal. Since it completely abandoned its isolationist policy it has gained friends and enemies, for one Pharthan and Raltirian Denethier belonging to the former category, and Bendicion in the latter category. Between Esalonia and Bendicion was an enmity, an enmity that would probably decide the fate of the nation they fought for: Qandaristan. Bendicion fought for the ISPFQ, and Esalonia fought to destroy ISPFQ. Now, ISPFQ and Bendicion have trade, military, and diplomatic relationships, with Bendicion having military factories in ISPFQ-held territory producing weapons for both ISPFQ and Bendicion. Esalonia had been since on an arms race with Bendicion, and on the topic of ISPFQ if these nations were roommates then the entire dormitory would fall into civil war.

Garren Pritchards walked down the tarmac with a few guards wielding AR-95s and pistols chambered for the powerful .357 Pritchard, plus LDPCU and full body armor. He was getting ready for a diplomatic deployment, to Lamoni, where two regions would meet: the East Pacific, and Greater Dienstad. The roar of the giant turbofans of the large Goshawk One deafened the ears of everyone near it. Garren Pritchards climbs the stairs toward the aircraft's door, and a Diplomatic Security Service agent saluted him at the door, and Garren Pritchards boards the plane, with personal belongings if his stay in Lamoni will last more than a day, and it SURELY will last for a day..

The plane was very cavernous with multiple private rooms for an entire 10-strong diplomatic party, and a lounge complete with seats, a bar, and a large flat screen display. Elsewhere, a kitchen can be found. The chefs are combat-capable, all from the Esalonian Special Operations Command, and are trained for executive cooking standards. Each of them have a pistol on the ready, a P-420 chambered for .357 Pritchard, with a tungsten carbide core at the nose and each cartridge being two inches long, the case included.

At the lounge, he and a designated representative, Serafin Heraldson, were chatting about their first inter-regional meeting.

"I'm expecting the Lamonian president to be in military uniform." said Heraldson.

"Hehe. But do not mention about it on the meeting, ok? Anyways, as this is one of my first personal dispatches in my life, I'm feeling so nervous."

"Every politician has been there and done than, Garren. First contact with publicity has never been easy, and it would continue to be never so easy dealing with publicity. Well, you might have more experience than I do, for you're in a very high position: Esalonian Representative to the World Assembly. The government has trusted you so much."

"Thanks for the advice, sir. But all I do is sitting on a couch and only appearing onscreen and not talking straight to the eye, while I comment on WA resolutions and overseeing missions to the WA." Garren said as he was about to pick his wine glass and drink, but the plane's sudden angular movement made it hard for him to drink as the drink rocked around the glass, and Garren took care to not let any of the wine spill on his cream-colored suit.

The plane will have to do a bit of island hopping, but it will reach Lamoni in time. With it was an escort of fighters composed of two flights of 5 aircraft each-five F-44 "Blood Widow" stealth air superiority fighters and five F/A-48 "Autumn Fall" stealth multirole fighters.

(OOC: You can assume he arrived.)

[Azurand]

Khadija Faraj, the Foreign Secretary of Azurand, glanced to the scenery beneath as her airplane began to descend to the Lamonian soil. She was a short, plump woman in her early fifties, surely no taller than five feet, with a bright green hijab covered her head. During the rabid laicite campaigns launched by the revolutionary government she still refused to unveil herself, insisting it as a form of her female identity, and her fiery speeches in the National Convention has stopped anti-hijab laws to pass there, much to the chagrin of old-guard revolutionaries. Of course after much deliberations and discussions she compromised, by dropping the face-concealing old black hijab she once used, in favour for a brighter, non-face-concealing one. After all, foreign delegates might be puzzled if the Foreign Secretary who accepted them was hidden in anonymity.

This would be the first time she visited the Free Republic. Likewise, it would be the first time that the Revolutionary Republic interacted with several nations that attended this meeting, as unknown to the Revolutionary Republic as the Revolutionary Republic is unknown to them. The Azurandi Caliphate for centuries has isolated the nation from the international world, and indoctrinated its subjects with blind xenophobic, fanatical hatred against the alien-infidels, those who worship numerous forms of devils, rejecting the laws of God, and thus doomed to the eternity of Jahannam, in preparation for a global jihad to expand the glorious Dar al-Islam at the expense of Dar al-Harb.

Of course, the past was the past, and remain so. The minions of the Caliphate were purged in the following bloodbath of Revolution, some cowardly fled from the realm, and even the last Caliph himself did not escape the National Razor. Khadija vividly recalled the Purge, the mock-trials held for mullahs and imams before their heads rolled away into one of many head-baskets prepared by the Revolutionaries. She shivered, it wasn't a pleasant memory, there were too many blood and heads over the buildings and the streets, her teachers hung in front of her madrese, she didn't want to remember it anymore, especially not my father—she paused.

“I wonder, do some of these guys have fur?” she voiced her lying-thought to her Vice-Secretary, Rafiq Maktoub, an ingenious, yet also incredibly clumsy and jittery, young man in his thirties.

“Uhh—what?” he was rather surprised by this sudden unprofessional talk. “I mean—who do you mean…?”

“Oh, no, I don’t mean the Lamonians.” She giggled. At the same time, the plane’s wheels touched the airport’s tarmac and they jolted. The Vice-Secretary’s tea almost spilled his clothes. “And not the most of Dienstadi for that matter. I mean the East Pacificans. It would be interesting that they’re foxes or cats, like those in books! They whole skin would be covered in fur and a tail hangs from their lovely bu—”

“Well, it would be our best interest for you to not mention that in front of them, you see, or I’m afraid it would be a diplomatic disaster.” He chuckled. The Vice-Secretary then prepared him and the Secretary's paperwork, in disarray after the jolt, thousands of pages long, typical of Azurandi bureaucracy even post-Revolution. Three Revolutionary Guards prepared for them already stood from their seat, their eyes cautiously watching the airport outside. The Vice-Secretary was rather unnerved by their presence, but his superior didn’t seem to care. She yawned slightly and closed her laptop.

“Well, let’s meet our economically-beneficial prince charming!” she announced, now completely dropped the whole fur-hope out of her mind, or so the Vice-Secretary vainly hoped. “And may God bless our endeavor, indeed.”

[Greal]

Sasha AFB, Greal

"Ever been to Lamoni?" asked a voice.

Minister of Foreign Affairs Eloise Watson looked over her shoulder at the source of the voice. It turned out to be General Alexander who was accompanying her to Lamoni for the TEP-GD talks. The meeting was hyped by the Greali media to the heavens and she could see a vast sea of cameramen off in the distance, firmly behind a length of barbed wire and soldiers. Eloise and the accompanying party were waiting for the plane to taxi towards them. The plane that would take them to Lamoni.

Eloise frowned in thought then replied, "Once, back in my days as Vice Minister. We were negotiating an arms procurement, though I wasn't there for that. Its handy to have underlings for that sort of work." The plane was finally in front of them and Eloise's voice was somewhat strained by tiredness after standing there in the excruciating heat for ten minutes.

The General gave a brief smile then asked, "Then why were you there?"

Eloise sighed then said, "You remember the mess with Cousin Lance right?"

Alexander frowned now, and his eyes were focused. Lance Watson's attempted coup two years ago never reached the ears of the public, but Alexander was in the one of the need to know group. He said carefully and slowly, "I remember the reports." The reports merely stated that nearly thirty people were killed in the incident.

Eloise gave a harsh chuckle and said brutally, "They thought I was involved and sort of exiled me for two weeks from Greal while my dear aunt sorted things out." Eloise was referring to the legendary former President Sarah Watson, who was "retired" from politics but still was one of the central figures in Greal. "I probably visited nearly six countries in that two week period. Lamoni was probably the nicest. Mokastana had some decent food as well."

"I see. Anyways, time to board the plane."

Sixteen hours later, On route to Lamoni

Minister Watson was very attractive, thought General Alexander as he sipped some green tea, looking over the members of the diplomatic party. Problem was that she was no doubt reserved by her powerful family for some scion back in Sasha. Alexander glanced at the other people in the plane. Assistant Secretary Joseph Young was having some sort of animated conversation with one of the guards, judging from his hand gestures. No doubt Young wanted a smoke, but the guard's orders were clear, which satisfied Alexander.

Being sent to the talks in Lamoni was the best stroke of luck Alexander ever had. For weeks leading up to the meeting the Greali media (the political and diplomacy part anyway) speculated endlessly who was going to be part of the diplomatic party. Alexander however immediately went over to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Presidential Office to pressure them into sending him to Lamoni. He wanted to get his name out there, so when it was announced the General of Sasha Defense was being sent, it was sort of a surprise to everyone. Of course, Alexander was asked why a military officer was sent to a diplomatic meeting, he merely replied he was "observing", not participating. That job was for the redhaired Foreign Minister.

Off to the corner was the elderly Jenny Vatts, representing the Ministry of Economic Affairs. She was nearly seventy years old, but was a sharp person and negotiation with her was said to be tedious at best. Alexander didn't know what to make of that. Sending along Vatts meant Greal might be looking to start the preliminaries of a trade agreement with some of the TEP members.

Another person onboard was James Hansen, who was the newly appointed Greali ambassador to Lamoni. His predecessor was retiring and the deputy chief at the embassy was not deemed enough to be experienced yet to run his own section at such a crucial nation like Lamoni, so a random veteran was plucked out of the Foreign Ministry. No doubt recommended by Minister Watson. Of course there was also the protocol officer, Elizabeth Bagwell accompanying the ambassador. Being a protocol officer was a polite cover for being intelligence chief of the embassy. The Lamonians were probably aware of that and no doubt there was someone similar to Bagwell in the Lamonian embassy back in Greal. Business was business.

"We'll be landing at Hvarten Airport in ten minutes, sir." said Agent Carson, part of the Greali protective detail for the diplomatic group. There were only six of them, since the Lamonians would provide most of the security at the meeting site.

"Its showtime." said Eloise Watson.

[Xoriet]

Xoriet
Androssi, Vavar

Kath Zandion Beralis examined the diplomatic party with a critical emerald gaze. Though they were long since prepared and approved by nearly every official in the government, he was a man of abject meticulosity. No matter how critically he might inspect them, he could find nothing to raise an objection to. This brought a faint cessation of tension around his eyes. It was but the faintest expression of decisive approval, but it signaled that the inspection had ended. The subjects of his interrogative visual inquisition reacted with a unanimous nod.

It had been decided by Zandion and Arrinya that the party would be led by his eldest son, Val Xaeyth Beralis and his erstwhile daughter-turned-clergywoman, Fourth Priestess Ellane Beralis. Accompanying them were Caos Danell Colart and Duchess Padani Suvara. Their small guard party consisted of a blend of Imperial Guards and Enforcers to complement the diversity of the attendees from Xoriet. This time he had checked to ensure that no members of Oken's terrorist organization were disguised as members of his government.

"Remember, you will be representing the Empire to Lamoni and the other parties attending this," he said with uncustomary iron in his pleasant voice. "Should I hear of anything...less than perfect...on your parts, you may expect a reprimand such as you have yet to see."

He especially looked at his son and daughter. Ellane met his look unflinchingly; Xaeyth merely smiled. Zandion was privately amused at the likeness to his wife and himself in their children. It was, after all, something he trusted both of them to undertake. Arrinya had devised a rather clever scheme to work on the pair. Its cunning, so uncustomary of his counterpart, was wholeheartedly backed by the wily Kath.

"Do not fail in this task," he advised his children bluntly in the High Style learned only by the aristocratic lines of Xoriet.

Now they both seemed insulted. Good. They were incompatible indeed if they did not share some reactions.

He spun on his heel and left the party to board the plane without another word, satisfied that they would likely manage this with a measure of skill.

---

On The Plane
Too Many Hours Later

“Will the both of you stay silent for longer than five seconds?” exclaimed Padani as Ellane and Xaeyth began the exchange of yet another volley of borderline insulting banter. “By Fate, you are adults. Royal adults!”

Ellane shot her a glance from eyes as cerulean blue as her mother’s. “I will not stand to hear this ‘royal adult’ disparage my Priestess,” she replied coolly. “Great Saruth grant that the Successor to our father is not this...graceless lout.” The look she gave the Val was disdain incarnate.

“Truly your mother’s daughter,” remarked Danell Colart, not even looking up from his book. “I pray that you can at least pretend to get along for the sake of Xoriet’s reputation.”

“At the very least, you can expect us to uphold Xoriet’s reputation,” Xaeyth said dryly. “At any rate, she is merely upset with me in regards to the fact that we are down several siblings by my hands.”

“And what excuses your behavior?” Padani lifted a single brow.

He grinned. “I hate travel. She hates me. I should think that is sufficient excuse.”

Danell Colart would have rolled his eyes twenty years ago. As it was, he was well used to the enmity of Xaeyth and Ellane Beralis, and the man actually running the diplomatic mission to the Republic of Lamoni. He had also been the main director of communication between the Empire and Lamoni. Suffice to say he was far more appropriate for this than his companions. He knew they had been chosen exactly because of their inability to get along – in private. Both Arrinya and Zandion fully expected them to have cooled off after being jointly entrusted with such an important occasion. Furthermore, the incumbent heir to the Kath and a Numeral Priestess were second only to the Kath and Priestess attending themselves.

If all went as planned, they would return a very changed group. If this diplomatic sojourn into foreign lands went south, as had the visit to the Shrailleeni Empire by the Kath and Princess Kathira, he could anticipate a full reprimand from the Kath whose trust in Danell was both implicit and unreserved. Kath Zandion trusted few people without reservation. The Caos was honored to be one of the few.

He glanced at Padani Suvara once from behind his glasses. The young Duchess of Hannat was the unexpected element. Never before had the Hierarchy offered to send one of their own to ensure the success of matters outside the Empire. It was as unprecedented as the journeys undertaken to other countries in the region and even to empires from lands far away by the members of the royal family themselves. A small, dry smile quirked his lips upwards for a moment. Times were certainly changing if this isolationist land was beginning to allow others to reach out to them, and willing to communicate with neighbors hitherto ignored.

Now his eyes returned to his book. They would be arriving within the next ten minutes, and this was behind the incessant bickering more than enmity or travel-sickness. As ever, he was steady and unrelenting as his companions were edgy and uncertain. The unknown was something that had long since ceased to bewilder him. Indeed, there was no man more appropriate for this than Danell Colart, and his aristocratic companions knew it well.

[United Gordonopia]

Celeron E400
100 Kilometers from Hvarten

I imagine the rest of them will have more than this.

Such was the strange thought that floated through Arbitrator Eric Hillstrom's mind as he glanced at his lone bodyguard. Horst was not imposing. Perhaps 178 cm, maybe 180. In shape but not overly so.

Eric was not concerned by the fact that only a single man was assigned to his protection at the upcoming summit in Lamoni. On the contrary, he would have arrived with nothing had it not appeared 'under-dressed', so to speak, given the fact that other delegates, some of them foreign royals, would certainly maintain a fair contingent. Nor was he troubled by this man in particular. Horst had served under Eric in The War, and his steely veteran's eyes were perhaps the only indicator of what lay inside.

No, this observation was merely that: an observation; a passing mental glance. Eric Hillstrom's ever-active mind was full of them. Many, such as this, bore little significance other than as a demonstration that his mind was always on guard. Others bore fruit in the subtlest of ways, aiding Eric in his duties as the Emperor's chief diplomatic plenipotentiary. One such thought, for instance, had proved decisive in the massive Taffy undertaking years before, where Eric had first proved his metal under his predecessor, Jonathon Dunn. Noticing the slight reaction one of the leading councilmen of Samar gave off when a Gordonopian naval patrol was mentioned during negotiations, a subtle gleam, Eric convinced the then-Arbitrator to promise investment for a shipyard contingent upon entry into the short-lived Taffy Protectorate. It seemed that the councilman had long envied the shipbuilding prowess of Fanshaw, Gordonopia's primary ally on the far east of the island, and thus an opportunity to put a foot in the door was enough to tip his vote.

Self-reflection, though, would reveal a double meaning to Eric's blase approach to guards, at least on this mission. The fact that only a single man would accompany him directly, with any other issues left to the Gordonopian Embassy staff which were to be permanently increased many of the individuals on the plane, was a gesture of trust following the recent warming of relations between the Free Republic and the Empire. Foreign Minister Lay herself had met with Eric not long before in New Kjeldor to negotiate a landmark agreement between the South Dienstadi powers, encompassing both trade and military affairs. The tensions that existed following the Skibereen debacle seemed to be largely smoothed, and the foundation for a powerful alliance had been laid.

This upcoming summit was both an expression of a newfound friendship, one which should have existed before given a variety of common interests, and a genuine curiosity towards the East Pacific nations who would be there. With a major loose end now tied up, leaving only possibilities with Pennsylvania and The Golden Throne (who perhaps not coincidentally would be in Hvarten), Gordonopia could begin to look beyond the region. Though military ties seemed unlikely to emerge, at least in Eric's initial observation, there was always at least the possibility for vast new markets in which to expand the Empire's state-run monoliths.

As the pilot made an announcement that the destination was near, yet another thought flew through Eric's mind.

What on earth is a vulpine's tell?

[Lamoni]

Hvarten International Airport

After having taken the delegations from United Gordonopia, Xoriet, Greal, Azurand, and Esalonia through the customary diplomatic receiving line where they were both greeted by himself and Foreign Minister Ley, as well as getting them to their limousines for the trip to their hotels, President Stinson was once again in his borrowed office, since it would take time for the delegations to reach their hotels, do any required freshening up, and then make it to the diplomatic hall.

A quick shower in the airport staff shower room, and a change of clothing took care of his needs, along with a sandwich. Before long, President Stinson and Foreign Minister Ley entered their own limousine, and proceeded from the airport towards the diplomatic hall. Upon entering the city, lots of houses in the traditional Swiss style could be seen in this middle class area, contrasting well with the sub-tropical rainforest climate in which the city itself was located in, with the weather being a pleasantly sunny day, only a few clouds in the sky to block the sun's natural light from shining fully on the skyscrapers that could be seen out in the middle of the city, where the hustle and bustle of commerce and business were the order of the day.

As one got closer to the diplomatic hall itself, the idyllic scenes of the traditional Swiss housing started to disappear, with first more modern, upscale housing, and then fully modern commercial buildings came into view. While Hvarten was not the Lamonian national capital, one could be forgiven for thinking that it might be, with the jarring contrasts between traditional and ultra-modern that could be seen and experienced all over the city. Even the presence of the diplomatic hall that would be used for the meetings could lend such a sense to any first time visitor to the city. Using one of the bridges to go into the downtown area of the city, the roads narrowed to a width of just twenty meters, with compact city blocks of only sixty-one meters on a side. While this made this part of the city pleasant to walk through, it also was bad for traffic, so the local bus and light rail systems would normally be running in order to accommodate the public's transportation needs. With the conference going however, a lot fewer people were on the street, making the area appear empty, like a town with no people in it that was being entered by others. Even most of the food carts were shuttered closed, so seriously was security taken. Some of them did remain open, but more to feed the security forces roaming about than anything else, seeing as how most of their customer base had been displaced for the duration of the meetings.

Walking into the diplomatic hall, the President looked around to see who had made it here early, eager to get things into full swing.

[Esalonia]

Hvarten, Lamoni
Esalonian WA Representative Garren Pritchards

"Whoa." gleamed Garren's eyes as he looks at the Lamonian skyline in Hvarten, as his limousine was approaching a jungle of tall high-rise buildings and stout commercial ones. He, for a while, forgot that this was not the capital of Lamoni. But at least it dawned onto him that it was not the capital, but rather, one of Lamoni's grandest cities.

Back in the airport he was greeted by the Lamonian president, which he identified as President Andrew Stinson, from a preliminary pre-dispatch briefing before he was sent to Lamoni for a meeting between Greater Dienstad and The East Pacific.

It was a pleasant day for him, as the day was perfectly sunny. Worth the while after a whole night's sleep on a 7-inch mattress. The architecture was not what he had seen; it was truly magnificent, not anything he'd seen. A contrast of modern and past, not something seen in Esalonian cities today.

"Hostile suppressed in section One-Alpha." his earpiece sounded. Hostile? What? The others should not know this. "He claims to be Bendian, sir. Alias, so he says." Seriously? The Alias, after the Lamonian government herded the civvies out of Hvarten? Come on...but at least this limo was well-protected, plus concealed body armor with the same layout as the PCSAS of the Esalonian military. But no gun. The only thing these DSS agents had were X26 Tasers. For many, the lives of every Esalonian government official was at risk, either from the AIA of Bendicion, or the ISPFQ, both of which are working in tandem. To reiterate, Bendicion, after it took almost entire Qandaristan for ISPFQ, placed armaments factories. These factories were to produce weaponry for both Bendicion and ISPFQ. This was how ISPFQ got restricted weapons, like stealth fighters and up-to-date personal armor, providing them an edge against the relatively backwater legitimate Qandarian government's military. That, and they still call Qandaristan an ally.

But he shrugged these thoughts, waiting for the right time to finally dish those doubts out, and to gain potential allies in their upcoming campaign in Qandaristan. The ISPFQ will be numbering by the millions...and they also need millions.

[Todd McCloud]

Premier Ikrisia Levinile of Vekaiyu was quick to select a small entourage who would accompany her in dealings within Lamoni. She didn't quite know what to expect with this diplomatic conference, but was encouraged by the fact that it was taking place away from The East Pacific. The realm had become far too polarized for her liking and assassination attempts were abound. Alas, that was to be expected when one pilots a superpower at the helm, all things considered.

Ikrisia was of average build for a 27 year old vulpine female - just a hair below 5'3'' and coming in at 94 lbs. The red scarf and white accents on her black dress were a stark contrast to her gray fur, which grew short and oily, again common for Vekaiyun vulpines, who were of the southern variant of the species. In addition, she was tailless, a choice made early in her life for what she was once groomed for. Buckled boots peeked from the dress.

The Vekaiyun jet - Ikrisia's personal aircraft - was entering its final descent. The pilot had warned the occupants upon entering Lamoni airspace, as requested.

"Milady I do not believe we are wise to only select four guards," Ehjy Yslevestri, the Minister of Foreign Affairs replied after he sat back in his seat. He returned from the restroom, no doubt to ensure the slick-backed black hair on his head was in optimal condition and that his suit was free of any blemishes or wrinkles caused from sitting in a plane for far too long. "Do you recall what happened during the conference in Bachtendekuppen?"

"Of course," she said nonchalantly. "But I highly doubt more guards would have been useful against a bomb plot."

He scoffed. "I mean we should be cognizant of our surroundings. It may be volatile. I am not comfortable with the amount of knowledge we have on this country."

"Ah, yes, that's your job, isn't it?"

"On the other hand, it is adequate for the... scenario at hand."

"Good. It would be very awkward if I had to release a minister who just attended a conference with me." She smiled. "Have faith, Ehjy. This is not The East Pacific, but the nations there are culturally different enough where this should not be an issue with you."

"I am of course on top of things."

"See to it that you are," she replied curtly.

"Yes, milady."

The aircraft jolted slightly as it cascaded onto the runway.

"Ensure that your VFO is in check. She is to be your sponge, soaking up every bit of information she can."

"Yes, milady."

"And mind the drinks. We may have a solid reputation in the east, but we are unknown here. I will not tolerate sloppiness."

"Of course, milady."

---

Diplomatic Hall, Hvarten, Lamoni

The tension from earlier had weathered away as the the two, coupled with the Vekaiyun Foreign Officer to Lamoni, met and attempted to exchange pleasantries. The variant of common language here was a different accent than what they encountered in The East Pacific, which was difficult for the Unonian-speakers, but not impossible. The architecture and weather was absolutely stunning to say the least. For Ikrisia, it reminded her of the vacation she took last summer, and she secretly hoped she would be able to spend at least a day taking a little time to relax a bit.

The three located their seats, but did not sit down. Instead, they wanted to meet others in the room. Ehjy and the Vekaiyun Foreign Officer made their way to some refreshments as he removed a packet from his pocket: jaku-flavored tea powder, designed to emulate the comforts of home for the low low price of five packets for one veskono. The VFO simply made her way to some cheese.

Ikrisia removed a phone from her bag and attempted to snap a quick picture of the architecture, admiring the edifices but hoping to not draw too much attention with her actions.

[Southern Yugoslavia]

Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Volkgoroda, Laiatan

The imposing Ministry building stood high above the Laiatanese capital city, sunlight reflecting off of the large windows. A large national flag flapped in the wind above the building, joining several other flags in the air above the government district. Federal Security Service agents were stationed outside of the building, protecting the ministry from potential threats.

Three diplomats were hand picked by the Minister of Foreign Affairs to represent the Federation, chosen for their experience and background in foreign policy. Three lupines to represent the lupine state. The diplomats were ecstatic to be selected to be the first Laiatanese diplomats to leave The East Pacific. The three of them readied their things and met out front of the Ministry, where they were greeted by the Minister of Foreign Affairs.

"You've all read the dossiers the Ministry has put together for you, correct?" Minister Obraztsov asked as he descended the stairs to the Ministry building. The three diplomats nodded in response to their superior's question. The minister let out a final puff of smoke from his cigar and snuffed the flame on the heel of his shoe. "You'll see some of our neighbors there, so we'll have some friends in the crowd. Though try and focus on those from outside of The East Pacific."

"Anton Yemelin. Veronika Lachkov. And last but not least, Maksimillian Shabunin." Obratsov read off the names of the diplomats as he handed them their diplomatic passports and other papers. "On behalf of the Laiatanese Federation, I wish you all the best of luck. Your plane is waiting for you at Volkgoroda International. You'll be accompanied by a few DSD agents for security."

The diplomats shook the hand of the minister before they were led down to the limousine by the DSD agents. The three talked among themselves, occasionally bringing in the agents accompanying them. The limousine moved along the roadways at a steady pace, taking the most direct route to the airport from the government district. It was easily done thanks to proper city planning, and soon enough the Laiatanese delegation was in the air and on their way to Lamoni.

Diplomatic Hall, Hvarten, Lamoni

Anton, Veronika, and Maksimillian observed the room from their table while the DSD agents remained at a bit of a distance. They each had already helped themselves to some refreshments, and were now speaking to each other. Their eyes swept around the room, taking in the setup and the occupants. They took note of the countries represented, pleased to see a few familiar faces scattered around in the crowd. The three were prepared to at least say hello to their neighbors from The East Pacific, though their main focus was of course going to be on countries who they had not yet met. The East Pacific already knew of Laiatan, while the unfamiliar faces did not.

"So, how do we play this? Split up or go in together?" Veronika asked, the junior of the group, in her mother tongue.

"Splitting up would be the wisest. Perhaps two go out, the other stays relatively put in case anyone comes looking for us?" Anton replied, the senior diplomat, also in his mother tongue.

Veronika and Maksimillian nodded, agreeing with their senior. "Alright, Veronika you're with me. Give you a little bit more experience." Anton said with a teasing grin, while Veronika rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. You've got two months more than me under your belt. Very funny. Let's go starik. Hold down the fort Maks." Veronika retorted, and Maksimillian nodded before taking a drink from his glass. Veronika and Anton left their table to mingle while DSD agents followed behind, and the one placed on Maksimillian moved up to strike up conversation until another delegation was ready to approach.

[Esalonia]

Diplomatic Hall, Hvarten, Lamoni

After a quick snack with a can of Coca-Cola and a few packs of sweetened MRE, which was packed with nutrients and antioxidants, he wiped his lips and mouth clean with a tissue. As he walked, grasping the tissue, he found a garbage can, went near it, and threw it...without ever glancing at it. He never missed. It went into the garbage can.

From his seat in the Diplomatic Hall, he observes the room. Garren's agents, all from the DSS, secured the doorways along with the security details of the other nations. Esalonians could be famous for bringing around armed security details with them, with every DSS agent having a P-420A, chambered for the .357 x 2" Pritchard, an X26 Taser, and RFID-secured handcuffs.

Some faces were familiar, others not, probably coming in from the other far side of the globe. The East Pacific, if his memory holds true. A matter of all species, for example a wolf-like slender creature, and although he was not well versed in non-human species he, from the deepest regions of his mind, thought that this wolf-like person was female.

His entourage consisted of the general assigned to Task Force 28, a 40-thousand-strong task force to be dispatched to Qandaristan for an upcoming war. The General went by the name Katrina Robles, who had to fly in straight from Laanvia. She only took a quick hot shower and a short breakfast from a local fast food restaurant before embarking on the journey. She was still wearing her camouflage when she arrived, but before going to the hall she changed clothing, from the standard issue LDPCU to her diplomatic uniform, which consisted of her badges and also at the same time her rank insignia.

Second was the Minister of Commerce, who was wearing a grey suit, with the inner clothing being a long-sleeved pink button-up shirt. As Esalonians were known for their quirkiness, Secretary Gene Valdez was ironicall not joining in, but however in scolding he is very well known for his sarcasm. Everyone in the diplomatic scene never had any "fancy" hairstyle, nor hair colors, just the natural ones. Valdez was one who opted for a plain hairstyle, combing his hair to one side diagonally, from back to front.

Third was the Minister of Foreign Affairs himself, John Paul Herman. His skin (forgive the racism, but it was not intended) contrasted his fair-skinned companions, for it was a shade of brown. Esalonia never had an apartheid, other than Nazis killing blacks during the Second Civil War.

[United Gordonopia]

Diplomatic Hall
Hvarten, Lamoni

The Gordonopian contingent entered the hall confidently. With the possible exception of The Golden Throne, there were no delegates for them to be especially wary about, though many were certainly unknowns.

There were several individuals accompanying Arbitrator Hillstrom, each of whom had demonstrated their skills in achieving their position in the highly meritocratic imperial system. Felix Becker, the Gordonopian Ambassador to Lamoni, was a fast rising star in the Gordonopian diplomatic corps. At 35, he was the Empire's lead representative in a major power, and with the recent strengthening of ties he had effectively received a promotion by virtue of remaining in the post. Though too young to have played a role in the great successes of the early Empire, he had proven himself a shred negotiator and able administrator, and rumor had it that upon completion of his term he would be transferred to the Arbitrat.¹ Perhaps this conference was the final test.

In an extremely rare event, there was also a second Arbitrator at the conference: Lara Bettmer, the Arbitrator of Commerce. Her post complimented the Imperial Gordonopia Corporation, the colossal state-run entity that had a domestic monopoly on several industries, including mining, armaments production, and healthcare, and that was also a major global player in such diverse sectors as video gaming and civilian aeronautics. The IGC's more esoteric divisions represented its legacy as the successor to Gordonopian Enterprises, itself a major global conglomerate under the old regime, while a number of other interests had been absorbed on the restoration of the monarchy to provide a powerful state-capitalist force. Essentially, the non-monopoly sectors largely served as profit generators within Gordonopia and internationally that funded the domestic service-monopolies, such as healthcare and utilities, with the profits not reinvested.

Lara had, at the beginning of The War, been a low level executive in Gordonopian Enterprises. In the increased gender equality that had thrived under the new regime, though, particularly in the last few years, she had thrived. For a time she had served as the chief strategist and negotiator within Imperial Mining, one of the largest export-based subsidiaries of the IGC, and from there she had been tapped for an Arbitrat role. Now heading the Arbitrat of Commerce, she essentially acted as the Empire's trade-negotiator-in-chief, with the lions share of her role focused on the IGC.

It was Eric, though, who elected to make the first move. Spying an entourage of Vekaiyuns, he figured he may as well be the first to reach out a hand to those new to Greater Dienstad. As that group split, he left his own to approach the one left behind, who he recognized from his studies beforehand as Premier Levinile.

"Milady," he began, "pardon me if I am interrupting, but I am afraid that the only time our people have met was in the Orean Olympiad. It would be nice to change that, especially since our efforts in the water, failing miserably compared to distance running, kept any compelling battles between athletes from forming. Eric Hillstrom, of the Empire of United Gordonopia."

He reached out a hand, realizing that he was not quite sure whether that was the same custom or not.

---

ooc note:
¹The Empire's bureaucracy has a somewhat unique system, distinguished by a separation between standard Ministries and 'Arbitrats'. A Ministry, such as that for Foreign Affairs, handles the duties that would generally be expected of it, but tends to lean heavier on the administrative side of things. Thus, the MoFA handles the vast majority of diplomatic staffing, the running of Embassies and Consulates, representatives to international organizations, etc. On the other hand, Arbitrats are intended to be the 'hand of the Emperor'. There are more arbitrats than there are ministries, but they tend to be very small and focused on specific tasks. The Foreign Arbitrat handles high level, sensitive diplomatic issues where the very best are required, and the Arbitrator is seen as speaking with the Emperor's voice in such instances. The small staff is thus considered the elite negotiators capable of shifting from one assignment to another rapidly as the need requires. Some arbitrats have direct parallels in ministries or sub-ministries, while others, such as the Arbitrat of Force, which is a small, black-operations military unit, are more narrow in their mission.

[Southern Yugoslavia]

Anton and Veronika continued speaking about current events within their country as they made the walk around the room, occasionally exchanging pleasantries with whomever they passed. The duo didn't stick out in the crowd too much, besides their lupine characteristics. In a crowd of lupines, it would be hard to pick them out. The pair weren't too different from the average lupine, Veronika stood at five foot seven inches while her counterpart stood at six foot.

Veronika was a forty-eight year old Singarti lupine, a member of the second largest ethnicity inside the Laiatanese Federation. Being Singarti her fur grew longer and was an arctic white, reminiscent of the days when the ethnicity typically stayed in Laiatan's snowy northern territories. She had been passed hetereochromia by her mother, though it wasn't complete. She had two blue eyes, the right eye revealing the genetic condition as a green section in the mostly blue iris. Her outfit was in line with the dress code of the Laiatanese Foreign Service, a simple black suit with a white blouse and a skirt that came to her knees. A flag pin rested on the lapel of her jacket, and she wore her graying hair down.

Anton was also forty-eight years old, though he was several months older than Veronika. He was a Mahigan lupine. Being of the majority ethnicity, his fur was shorter than his counterpart's and a darker gray color. His eyes were a hazel color, something relatively rare among Mahigan lupines. His outfit was also in line with the established dress code for Foreign Officers, a form fitting black suit and a shirt and tie of his choosing. He chose to wear a white dress shirt matched with a red tie. He too wore a flag pin on his lapel.

The two continued to walk through the room, eyes scanning. Veronika nudged her senior, using her head to motion in the direction of the Vekaiyuns.

"Ah, their premier made it. At least we aren't the only oddballs here." Anton mumbled to Veronika in their mother language.

"Should we say hello?"

Anton shook his head. "Not until we've had some time to meet with some of the other delegations. We could always meet with a neighbor. But these other delegations are a different story."

[Todd McCloud]

Ikrisia returned her phone to her bag and looked up at the gentleman in front of her. She was quick with a smile. While a handshake wasn't completely customary back home, it was accepted, especially as Vekaiyu extended itself toward other nations. To add to the gesture, she provided a sort of half nod, half shrug in order to reflect her own cultural heritage. Heck, at this point any sort of nice gesture was taken as a great sign - completely different from the rigid and antiquated behaviors of her predecessors.

"Indeed that would be best," she replied. Her English was good enough, but the accent was reflective of an East Pacific dialect. "Vekaiyu loves its Olympics, especially those during the Summer season. We've become a sort of power house for swimming, it seems. I hear we might be entering a transition as some of our athletes may be retiring... but that's only what the papers and tabloids report. Everyone likes to speculate. I'd love to see the games in person at least once, but concerns with security or simply being too busy has kept me away from them. But if they ever have underwater hockey as a demonstration sport, I can assure you I would not only attend, but try to compete as well."

===

"May I have some wine?" the Vekaiyun Foreign Officer, Sayli Inlestroviyey, asked in Unonian. She nervously looked around the premises, knowing how fragile her position was. It was hard enough to escape the "foreign purgatory" of the thousands of unassigned Vekaiyun Foreign Officers. It was even harder to know everything about a culture her own nation knew little about.

"Sure, kid," Ehjy replied as he beckoned for a glass. "Might as well continue to experience the culture, right?" He removed a glass of water near one of the drink fountains and mixed his jaku-flavored drink powder into it.

"And you?" she asked.

"Wine's wine," he replied.

"I like it."

He shrugged. "Good. You'll have something to talk about when you familiarize yourself with the Lamonian delegation."

[United Gordonopia]

The accent was unfamiliar to Eric, though he had little trouble understanding it. He himself displayed a faint trace of a Gordonopian-German accent, deriving from the several years he had spent as a child in Deska. His family had, in fact, originated in the north, where German was the primary spoken language. His grandparents generation, though, had migrated southward and taken on its culture; a common trend during the Republican era. The likelihood of that happening was now much less, as the Raleigh dynasty had been very active in promoting both languages. The fact that the north had been the first part of the mainland to support the current Emperor's father during The War certainly played a role in that.

"Ah, I presume you play? Though I have yet to see it, that sounds like it would indeed be something to watch. I was something of an athlete at one time, made it to the city finals in the 5,000 meter run, but never was good enough to take the leap to even the university level. Seeing Gordonopia's athletes on the track, the race course, or the football pitch is certainly a love of mine, though I hardly have the time anymore."

Eric figured that the small talk could be good. The conference was only just starting. Plenty of time could be devoted to striking deals or even figuring out areas to do so later.

"I take it this is your first time in Greater Dienstad?"

Meanwhile, Lara and Felix had gone for refreshments. The two had met once before, when the Gordonopian-Lamonian agreement was still under works, and the latter was filling the former in on some of its successes so far.

"I do honestly believe that Lamoni will be rivaling Lyras very soon in terms of exports. IM alone has a lot of potential, setting aside the consumer level stuff..."

In her mind, though, Lara hoped that one of the foreign delegates might approach for some conversation. She was up to date on just about all of this, and in her perception the Ambassador seemed like someone too conscious of the fact that he was at a sort of audition.

[Todd McCloud]

"I used to play in college, yes," she replied. "Though I was never good enough to be drafted. I didn't really fancy the sport enough to devote my life to it. So, I suppose I chose... this instead." The Vekaiyun Premier laughed slightly. "Our people like the water for some reason, myself included. But enough about me... you were a runner? That is interesting indeed. It requires discipline to run well for long distances."

[Hobbesistan]

The plane began its descent, as Mr. Hunter and Mr. Ki'Low discussed the planned events.

"Premier Levinile will be there, as will a Laiatenese delegation; so we have some friends. We've done some basic intel on the area but theres not a whole lot to be said on the attitude of how they'll accept us." The two continued to talk; Mr. Hunter being a Human male in his late 60's, certainly aging, but Mr. Ki'Low was a striking man in his 30's at a whopping 6'4, 'Big Sam' he was jokingly (and mockingly) called in politics.

"Mr. President, Mr. Secretary, We'll be landing in a few minutes." The stewardess proceeded to leave the room again, so not as to disrupt the conversation.

"As for security?"

"Usual secret service detachment; We also have two...trustworthy...contractors who will be on ground detail 'blending in'. They-..." He was interrupted by the President. "We're getting into 'I don't need to know for my own sake' territory with that, Mr. Secretary, though if it's who I think it is I don't think itle be a issue."

They nodded, and buckled in as the plane moved in to land.

OOC: sorry for half-assed lazypost, 1am here, Moar to come tomorrow.

[United Gordonopia]

"Quite the alternative," Eric chuckled. He himself had had one other career option prior to diplomacy. The very opposite in fact. War had been his trade, the only one he had offered a man from his upbringing in the Old Republic real opportunity for advancement if the dream they had all shared, sport, failed to pan out. In the end he had been well served; his service had been admirable enough to warrant immediate honorable discharge and admission into a university, and from there the new aggressively merit based system had panned out well. "Though football may be up there these days, running is the heart and soul of Gordonopia. Unlike many nations, our distance tradition goes back to time immemorial. Anything less than 1500m is considered too short to be respectable, though our sprinters are much better than they once were."

[Lamoni]

After making sure that everyone present was getting along in what must seem like a sea of unfamiliar faces, Lamonian Foreign Minister Tanya Ley strode over toward Anton and Veronika from the Laiatanese delegation. Though the pair didn't stand out in the crowd too much, their lupine features made them stand out enough to be able to be fairly easily located, for someone who was looking for them.

It was random chance that had made the Foreign Minister select the Laiatanese delegation to talk to, she had been meaning to talk to the TEP delegations one by one anyway, but random chance had made the Laiatanese delegation stand out in her mind long enough for her to decide to speak to them first. The Foreign Minister was a blonde haired human woman of average height, blue eyes, and a winning smile. At the age of fourty-five, it was amazing that she hadn't either been married, or had a serious boyfriend, as yet. Her workload as Foreign Minister however, pretty much made a love-life impossible, which was a rather sad fate for the attractive woman.

To Veronika, she said, "Hello, you might remember that we met at the welcoming ceremony. I'm Foreign Minister Tanya Ley of the Free Republic of Lamoni. Have you been enjoying this diplomatic get-together so far? It is rare to get the chance to so freely meet delegations from an entire region."

[Xoriet]

Diplomatic Hall, Hvarten, Lamoni

As they had promised, Ellane and Xaeyth Beralis showed no sign of their feud of seven years in public. If anything, they seemed as the best and closest of comrades. Ellane, although she had forsaken her royal inheritance for the clergy, was as finely dressed as she had been as a Princess of the Blood in a shimmering dark red dress lined with a beaten gold band at hems and cuffs. Her long, curling blue-black hair was secured back from her face with bronze combs. This garb would likely not have signified her exact occupation to any save a Xorietian. Xaeyth was attired in a dark purple half-tunic and loose pants in proper attire for formal settings, both pieces lined with silver. The siblings, fair-complexioned as their parents, carried themselves in such a way that their aristocratic heritage was clear to the informed observer, yet there was nothing to indicate haughtiness or distance despite that impression.

Padani Suvara and Danell Colart, not quite as splendiferous as the Beralisi siblings and darker-complexioned as expected from their Southern origin, were nonetheless similarly attired in respective pale saffron and deep blue gender-customary garb similar to the style of their companions. They also wore bronzed torques which indicated their status in a similar manner to the lining on the clothing of the other two. Although they were not quite as striking as Xaeyth and Ellane, Danell and Padani were nonetheless the more complimentary pairing – an effect deliberately arranged by the Kath’a Ariyala Beralis, whose hand had been thoroughly involved in the arrangement of the entire group.

“It is quite amazing to see the faces they adopt when they know they are being watched,” Padani murmured to Danell in Varatash.

“They may have taken after their mother in looks, but they are very much their father’s children no matter how similar to the Kath’a they are,” replied the Caos amiably. “Just watch them play in their metaphorical playscape for a while. I assure you that it will be an amusing spectacle for the both of us.”

[Southern Yugoslavia]

Anton noticed the woman heading towards them first and gave a nudge to Veronika, lost in their conversation. "Game time," Anton said to her in Mahigian, and both of the foreign officers put on their best diplomatic smile. The two listened intently, retraining their ears to pick up on the accent from this foreign region. They shook the hand of their host, and Anton remained quiet as Veronika took the lead.

"Yes, of course! It is a pleasure to meet you, Foreign Minister." She had refined her accent to a point where most anyone from anywhere could understand her, but it would come through every few words. "I am Foreign Officer Veronika Lachkov, and this is Senior Foreign Officer Anton Yemelin." She said, motioning to the diplomat beside her. "We are representatives of the Laiatanese Federation. And yes, we are enjoying this get-together. We are always pleased to meet people from other nations. What can you tell us about your nation?"

[The Macabees]

Fourier Vereda swirled the drink he held in one hand with a slim straw controlled by the other. He looked around the room, taking in the crowd. It was...eclectic, to say the least. Fortunately, most of the attendants were human. There were some 'lupines' present and they made Vereda want to vomit. A harsh fact few took lightly in this age of equality and empathy, but it was a fact nonetheless. Regardless, that 'age' hadn't arrived at the Golden Throne in full force yet. There, Marshite transgenders were the most extreme they had to contend with so far. The Macabee shuddered. Soon enough, there would be 'lupines' and the gods know what else in the Empire. But, Macabee diplomats knew how to put on an inviting, accepting face when they had to. Fourier was not just any Macabee diplomat, in any case, he was a full-fledge krierlord. Besides, men like Vereda had seen more of the world than the common Macabee had — most of them restricted to Greater Díenstad and neighboring regions, for the most part —, so it was somewhat easier for him to swallow the canine-, or wolf-, like features of the Vekaiyu. Not to mention most of his animosity was preoccupied with dealing with the fact he was on Lamonian soil.

Vereda himself was a tall man, over two meters from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head. His dark blue suit was trimmed in the latest fashion trending in Fedala, which was somewhat to the distaste of the Macabee. He preferred the conservative styles of Macabea, in the north, but, alas, he had little choice in the matter. The capital had been moved to Fedala over twenty years ago and the cultural nexus of the provinces was shifting down with it. His hair was shaved to a minimum on the sides and back of his head, the top parted in a slant towards the rear. The krierlord was young enough to pull it off, a mere forty-six years — most of his 'coworkers' were already well into their senior years, most of them serving long, distinguished careers in the Fuermak. Fourier took the academic route, completing his doktorad in economics with an emphasis on political institutions, afterwards accepting a stint with the Imperial Government as a mid-level bureaucrat. Some fifteen or so years later, he was whispering in His Imperial Majesty Fedor I's ear. He had the perfect combination of assets to accomplish that meteoric rise: talent, street smarts, and good looks.

Over at the far wall, Vereda's partner was sampling the cheeses. This man was not good looking at all. Fat, plump, and obviously well-fed, Garnér Bíank was in his late sixties. It was a miracle he had survived as long as he had and not yet suffered a cardiovascular dysfunction. Krierlords have their suits specially tailored, like all important men do, but even then the twice-buttoned jacket stretched tightly around his rotund body. The wool pants fared scantly better around his legs, which were thick as an elephant's. Bíank had little right to be eating cheeses, but there he was, taking one of each, then seconds and thirds. The bread went right along with the cheese, but not so much the fruits. Those get messy, and Bíank's palette had been shaped by an entire life of luxury. The Bíank family was well-known throughout Díenstad, the dominant Macabee province, and had a long history of loyalty to the Katalán dynasty. His brother was none other than Antíok Bíank, who was in the top fight of any list of most powerful Macabee dukes. Garnér's brief three-year career in the Ejermacht, as an aide to Lasago Gregor Marane — the Death Dancer of Mosnoi Bor — during the War of Golden Succession was a minor accomplishment.

Looking at him, Fourier looked at his peer with hidden disgust. The nobility was weak. They had let themselves be consumed by a decade of political atrophy, after much of the nobility had either been killed during the War or executed thereafter. Supporting Heinrich, the loser, had its consequences and Fedor was not known for his sympathy for the conquered. Their sway still held in some places, though, and rumors were that Fedor was proposing a deal with the now-inactive (at least, on the surface) Konaltón, an Imperially selected group of nobles who, in their day, managed and oversaw the day-to-day activities of the different provinces of the Empire. Now, the democratically-elected senatorial assemblies of the provinces and the local governments of the territories did that for them. Many still held power via appointments to territorial governorships, and they were all still extremely wealthy and extremely influential among the local politicians of their once-upon-a-time fiefs. How Garnér Bíank was chosen as a krierlord was beyond the comprehension of Fourier. The younger, fitter Macabee gave a subtle shrug as he thought about this. He figured that Fedor liked that some of his advisers be weak, lest they dare attempt to restrict his power. Some, like Vereda were needed strong and independent; an advisory of lackeys was no advisory at all.

Sweeping his eyes from Bíank and across the room, he took in the presence of the Gordonopians. In fact, the Macabees didn't have very many friends in the room. The cold, thick tension between them and the other Greater Díenstadi delegates was evident. Relations between United Gordonopia and the Golden Throne had gone cold after the former occupied the Thacu Islands and Taffy, the island just south of the Imperial Territory of Theohuanacu. The Imperial inclination to simply invade those islands and occupy them was hardly hidden behind an almost transparent veneer of diplomatic cordiality. The Gordonopian presence was only made richer by the fact that they were all on Lamonian soil. The division of Indras between the two had corrupted relations between them with ambiguity. The Lamonian occupation of southern Indras — that section of the island now called Omega — was seen as having two possible intentions: (a) as an attempt to limit Imperial expansion in southeastern Greater Díenstad; (b) an imperialist occupation, in which case they had denied the Imperial Government direct influence over the entire island. Either way, it was an affront to the Golden Throne and now things had gotten 'awkard.' Let's not even start with the Stevidians — nuclear exchanges don't mend in a decade.

Bíank finally satisfied himself of fine cheeses and was walking back to regroup with Vereda. "Frigid crowd tonight," said the larger man to the thinner.

"Aye," responded Vereda. "Most people we have never spoken to or people who we don't want to speak to."

"I suppose that speaks well of us," said Bíank.

"Perhaps. In any case, we must mingle. Otherwise, the only thing we're doing here is vacationing Lamoni, on the Imperial Government's patronage."

"Not a bad deal," said Bíank, with a slight smirk on his face. It was unsurprising really, that a man like him entertain the possibility of avoiding their duty. Bíank was only half-joking with his remark. Vereda could see him sticking by the cheeses, speaking only to those who came to him and saying the minimum to come off as cordial, here only to make an appearance. Decadence. Was this what the once powerful nobility had rotted into?

Vereda let his disdain for the other krierlord overcome him. "I suppose you plan to retire soon, Garnér."

The other man gave a stifled chuckle. He turned his head to look at Vereda, then turned back to look at the others in the hall. "We will see. If I do go, who will Fedor choose to take my place? Where would he be without me?" Bíank the Lackey; his brother had clearly gotten the best of their parents, and Garnér the worst. He was truly a stupid man; the arrogance paired with stupidity in perfect harmony.

"Yes, you're quite right. You are the pillar our empire is balanced upon. You are Atlas, we are the world." The fatter Macabee did not appreciate the sarcasm.

Fourier Vereda smiled to himself and then turned his attention to President Stinson. He was speaking to members of another delegation, after which Vereda would intercept him and have the Lamonian head of state introduce him to the delegates of The East Pacific. Seeing that he was once again being ignored, Bíank walked back to the rear wall of the hall, where he made another round on the cheeses. Vereda hoped someone approached that man to speak, that way he wouldn't be an entire useless companion on this trip. It wasn't that much of a loss, in any case. Fourier was still young and much of his career as a Krierlord had still to unfold. Better to prove himself worthy by taking the lead role of the Macabee delegacy, especially now that the other krierlord seemed so willing to take a secondary role. Maybe he could even impress Fedor. Krierlords who showed their value were often rewarded with important governorships, positions that held great influence over important territories. One step at a time. This step called for making friends, so that's what Fourier Vereda set out to do.

[Hobbesistan]

The ride from the airport to the diplomatic hall was uneventful; particularly due to the perhaps overarching security, but it wasn't of his concern; No need to deal with traffic.

The limousine door swung open as Mr. Hunter and Mr. Ki'Low stepped out, Mr. Hunter still leaning on his cane, the two made their way inside as most of their staffers and security dissipated; the hall of course was for the 'elite of the elites'. No sooner had they stumbled inside then Mr. Hunter found Mr. Ki'Low was gone, presumably off to the Vulpine table, as he had a precedent of doing at these kind of events. After reminding himself to remind the secretary to stop bailing on him at international events, he found himself squabbling down towards the food, perhaps the main place he could go by himself for some seclusion, and for a more proper way to gauge the event and participants around him; the Vekaiyuns were off doing there own thing (now joined by Ki'Lo) and the Lupines were mingling, and somewhere he thought he saw a Xoriet delegation in the fray; the rest, however, remained rather unbeknownst to him.

He did, however, soon notice another man who seemed to have the same 'hang around the food table and expect things to happen' mentality, so, sure enough, he moved in to introduce himself, figuring he might as wise engage in some form of dialogue instead of pretending the event would end before it really started.

"Hello...you must be?"

[Todd McCloud]

"Mmmn, I see," Ikrisia responded. "No, no it requires discipline. All beings are a type of clay, and if molded improperly, they remain lumps - easily settling over time to the lowest stress. Pounding the clay provides immediate results, but the elastic behavior of the material returns it to form, and it does not retain the desired results. I suppose it takes time. But it may differ from situation to situation." She was unsure of where the conversation was going. Indeed, she was a bit obtrusive, but perhaps a bit too much for her liking. She decided to dial it back. After all, it was a meeting of diplomacy, not a debate. Unfortunately, she never quite grasped that skill completely, especially in mixed company. If only she had been groomed for the role instead of fighting for it, possibly. "But I can see you are no lump. That is very good. Knowing that, what do you seek during this meeting between our two regions?"

[United Gordonopia]

Eric elected to drop his earlier intention of staying confined to small-talk. No sense in putting off more topical conversation if the Premier wanted to go that route. "I will take that as a compliment," he chuckled. "It pains me to say, however, that what we are looking for is nothing out of the ordinary. Economic partners are, of course, always welcome. Given that trade facilitates many of our national services, I would be remiss to downplay it. We do not, as I am sure you are aware, have anything in the realm of strategic interests in The East Pacific, so bolstering that is not too big of a concern. On a personal note though, and perhaps most importantly, I'm simply looking to get a taste for what your region has to offer. The people, the culture... Gordonopia's perspective has been largely confined to the humans, well, mostly, of Greater Dienstad. Elite athletes and a small number of merchants aside, this has been our world. Perhaps that can change. I hope it isn't too tacky to ask you the same?"

His last reason had been a slight exaggeration. It wasn't some grand hope of the Empire to look outwards over the endless seas, though that was certainly more of an option than ever before. On a personal level, though, it rang true. Eric had yet, in his 39 years, to make acquaintance with a vulpine or lupine; a handful of equines here and there, but that was the extent. To even the humans of The East, though, they were simply another race to deal with. At the very least, by the end of the conference, Eric hoped to have some of that experience to go along with a trade deal or two.