Greater Dienstad Regional Expo I [IC, OPEN TO ALL MT/PMT]

[The Macabees]

Bid Thread | OOC Thread

Welcome all to the first Greater Díenstad regional expo, hosted in Fedala, which is the capital city of the Golden Throne. The theme of this year's fair is overland, maritime, and aerospace trade and the promotion thereof, which is a proper theme for a region of many large and great nations, which boast of large, wealthy economies.

The expo grounds themselves are held at the 2,500-acre Gardens of Jendora, named after the architect—the Díenstadi* Dedalo Jendora. They are built not fifteen kilometers from the great ruins of Dyalador, an ancient city that sat by the then-banks of the River Tagus. Now the Tagus, with transparent waters colored crystal blue, flows along the shorelines that wall the grounds from its west and south. A visitor will instantly notice the stark uniqueness of the gardens' architectural style against the Fedalan style with its pointed ribbed vaults, flying buttresses, and its use of light and shadow for dramatic intensity. The Gardens of Jendora are style after the Díenstadi city of Macabea, known in the empire as the Old City and long standing as one of the region's busiest, wealthiest commercial port towns from antiquity into modern times. Buildings are more simple in trim and design, although they often showcase thick stone walls and plasters of different colors. Intricate woodwork is also a staple of Macabéan architecture, with wood used to add detail and life to a façade.

For a real life example, Macabéan architecture is very much like German colonial architecture.


I am a member of Greater Dienstad. What can I do in this thread?

Creativity is welcomed and encouraged.

The centerpiece of your activity will most likely be your booth, which can be as simple as a section inside one of the several large conference halls that sit throughout the expo grounds or a dedicated building just for you. I have not made a map of the grounds for the purpose of giving more freedom to you in choosing the sort of booth you'd like to run. Which size is right? It depends on how much you plan to contribute in terms of planning, running, and promoting your booth. The larger your section of the exposition, the more work must go into planning and developing its elements. To make it easier, here is a rubric to go by when choosing the size of your booth:

• One or two elements: A section within the conference halls;
• Three to five elements: A small building;
• Six or more elements: A mid-sized building.

Beyond setting up and running your booth, you can also participate in many other ways. You can visit other countries' booths, explore what they have to share, and get to know their cultures and contributions. You are also more than welcome to visit the other attractions available at the expo grounds, including museums, theater, and lectures. Strike up a conversation with a random expo-goer, deliver a lecture of your own, and build relationships with others.

You do not need to contribute a book-length post. Some of us may write long-form posts, others may write no more than a sentence. Both and all approaches are okay. The goal of this thread is to have a common venue where we can all contribute, in whatever fashion you prefer, so that we can get to know and learn more about each other. Your post can be as simple as a line of dialogue to no one in particular, leaving it open for whoever to pick up on the other end and continue the roleplay. Consider this thread a sandbox and a low-barrier way of introducing yourself to the region and to its players.

If you need ideas, I recommend that you to read the thread and see what others have been doing. This can be a great source of inspiration.


I am not a member of Greater Dienstad. What can I do in this thread?

Although only members of the region can run booths, any player is welcome to join us. The expo is open to all those who wish to participate, including all citizens of the Golden Throne and tourists in our country. You are free to participate in very much the same way a region member might, including visiting booths, initiating random conversations, and even partaking in international diplomacy.



What is there to visit outside the Gardens of Jendora (the venue)?

Gates of Namnaten IV

Just 15 kilometers southwest of the Gardens, across the Jo'Lahán Bridge that crosses the River Tagus, lay the extensive ruins of ancient Dyalador. The capital city of the Dyaladoran Empire, it ruled much of central Hugen — the continent on which the modern Golden Throne finds itself — for over 200 years. It began to lose population during the empire's decline in the 2nd century C.E. and, although it saw a brief resurgence in the 4th century, it was almost completely abandoned by the 9th century. Today, visitors can see the recently restored remnants of the gargantuan Gates of Namnaten IV, built into new city walls to commemorate Emperor Namnaten IV's victory over the Torentoni tribes in the 1st century C.E, as well as the ruins of ancient temples, palaces, bathhouses, and monuments. Dyalador holds some of the best preserved ancient ruins in all the Golden Throne, and one's visit to the city of Fedala would be incomplete without a tour of its one-time counterpart. The ruins can be accessed by private transportation, as well as by light rail and bus.

Visitors must also come see the Garden of Ger'gemelo, which marks the northern edge of His Imperial Majesty's imperial palace in Fedala. Covering some 15 acres of land, these gardens — typically open only three times each year — will be left open to the public for the duration of this exposition. See great fountains, thick, lush woodlands, and expansive flower beds and neatly trimmed shrubs. Ger'gemelo (1952–2011) was a famous Frommian architect who, apart from his work in Fedala, is known for the prominent influence of his taste and philosophy in the reconstructed post-Kríerstatón Epok Beda Fromm.

Parts of the Imperial Palace itself are open to the public as well. Visitors can see the quarters of the late Jonak I, founder of the second empire and grandfather to His Imperial Majesty Fedor I. Also accessible is the palace museum which displays the armaments, dress, and over 1,200 years of the Golden Throne's military history.

Fedala is a city of great museums. Just outside the city one can visit Barbakán 'Eloise', named after the mythical princess that launched the Jiridan Wars of the 13th century B.C.E. There, over a century of Macabéan tank history is on display, including surviving models of almost every vehicle used during the Kríerstatón Epok and after the refounding. Included in the display is the famous, or infamous, Nakíl 1, the very first model of the ubiqutous tank that remains one of the most popular main battle tanks in service around the world.

Other museums include the Heinor Museum of Natural History, the Lorén Museum of Art — named after the famous 17th century Frommian painter, Henoor Lorén, and focused on art of the 15th through 18th centuries —, the Jurg-Klens Museum of Art — specializing in art from the Kríerstatón Epok —, and the Museum of the Willed — a museum patroned by Fedor I and dedicated to showcasing the most highly praised art of the modern period. There are, of course, countless others spread throughout the vast city, including exhibits on aerospace, torture, automobiles, trains, and whatever else the mind can think of.

The number of attractions are countless and impossible to list in their entirety. You may be interested in visitin the Imperial Opera House of Vivolindo, or the Imperial Theater of Geralto, or perhaps the Baths of Old King Menar. There are also shopping malls, prestigious boutiques, and an observation center that sits high above in the mountains to the northeast. Explore Fedala and learn of its wonders.


Random encounters.

Don't have a story in mind? Visit one of the tourist sites, a booth, or walk the halls and have a chance of stumling upon a random encounter. In these situations, I — The Macabees — will roleplay a character or a group of characters that interacts with yours, with the purpose of helping you through a narrative. Think of it as a quest or a sidequest, like in an open world roleplaying game.


Can I initiate random encounters myself?

Absolutely. If you have a booth, initiate a random encounter that will guide them through your booth. It's worth it to plan your booth as some sort of adventure, that is give the other characters things to do.


How long do my posts need to be?

There are no length requirements. This thread is much like a sandbox thread. Roleplay is preferred over no roleplay, so write whatever way you'd like!


Have a question?

If you have a question or out of character commentary, please post in the OOC thread.

This opening post will grow as I add to it throughout the exposition.

___

* Díestandi, in this case, refers to someone from the province of Díenstad, which is the northernmost province of the Golden Throne. It should not be confused with Greater Díenstadi, sometimes shortened to Díenstadi, which refers to a citizen of the region.

[Eitoan]

Greater Dienstad 2018 Exposition Committee for Eitoan

Design Selection Results for Eitoan Pavilion


Planned Eitoan Pavilion


The Exposition Committee is pleased to announce the choice of design submitted by the firm of Gustin, Broadhead, Coynek and Bayd for the Eitoan Pavilion at this year’s Exposition in Fedala, capital of The Golden Throne. The Pavilion will feature promotion of overland, maritime, and aerospace trade in tune with the Expo’s theme, emphasizing the role of Eitoan research, development, and industry in the economy of the Northwest. The firm’s bid has been chosen based on it’s experience in managing complex commercial, industrial, and entertainment projects both in Eitoan and abroad, and because the design best represents the pre-colonial Eitoanate style within the constraints specified by the host theme of Macabéan architecture, integrating thick stone walls and intricate woodwork. Major sections of the structure will be parceled out to the 7 principal sponsors, along with a refreshment area, playground, and an exhibit showcasing the major phases of Eitoan history.

The announcement at the Commission’s headquarters by Executive Chairman Steve Andersin was followed by a more detailed description of the structure by Paul Krummen, Project Manager in Charge by GBC&B. Mr. Krummen announced “We believe this will fit in well on the site in the Gardens of Jendora, as specified by the Expo management. It is prominent and will have sufficient space to house displays for our major industries and research efforts. While conforming to Expo design standards, this will integrate the classic Eitonate lines, both on the exterior and in the internal space. And I would like to thank the selection committee, and our major sponsors: The Department of Development and Business Promotion, The Ghastak-Dashez Joint Committee for Technology Development, Kelso Commercial & Investment Bank, Martin Manufacturing & Processing Companies, The Eitoan Micro and Nano Manufacturing Conference, The Materials Research Institute of Eitoan, and the General Federation of Skilled & Technical Labor, without whose contribution this project could not have gone forward”.

The building consists of a tower, joined by a colonnade to another pavilion, topped by an observation deck. It is based loosely on the Blue Watchtower of Dunfries, with much of the decorative masonry patterned after the original structure, thought to have the most sophisticated design in Northwest Greater Dienstad when commissioned by King Louis I in 1396 after the establishment of the Second Kingdom. Within the constraints of classic design, many of the exhibits will rely on Enhanced Group Virtual Reality, such as those allowing visitors to “participate” in the cycle of export financing, transportation, and distribution, the adventures of an oncological nanobot, and to relive the 1619 Defenestration of Holon. Visitors will be greeted by a generous bar and restaurant on the ground floor featuring both clear and brown Eitoan liquors, and such favorites as breakfast sausages and Lamb and Rice. Children will be able to test their basketball mettle against the simulated legendary Vladarsik Giants 1993 championship team. A small gallery featuring such masterpieces as Anjek’s Victory at Stickney will be stocked by pieces on loan from major museums. A theme tying all exhibits together will be an adaption of Martin Manufacturing’s Trunk Material Handling Network, the backbone of Eitoan distribution of bulk goods and intermodal transportation.

Exposition attendance is being encouraged with Eitoan Airways and other carriers offering special low fares and an enhanced flight schedule from Vladarsik, Kelso, and other Eitoan air hubs to Fedala, and deals with major hotel chains serving The Golden Throne capital. The Department of Foreign Affairs has added extra staff both in the Passport Office, and at the embassy in Fedala to accommodate the expected increase in travel due to Expo attendance.

[UniversalCommons]

Simeon Ming of Ming Commercial House had traveled to the Expo at the request of the Minister of Trade and the Office of Economic and Special Warfare. Even though, he was of a major house, it was a request he could not refuse.

He stroked his goatee and his mustache twitched slightly. He was wearing a high collared blue spilk jacket with jade turtle tabs, a tricorn hat with a bright red and purple feather, black pantaloons, and pointy leather shoes. Rings on his fingers glistened with gold and when he smiled a gem chip shone in his front tooth.

He had handed his cloak to his second, Albo who folded it over and put it into a leather satchel quietly. Albo was a tall, lean quiet man with hawkish features who was constantly watchful.

Simeon was in the exposition hall walking past the booths. He pointed at some of the booths and Albo took pictures with a small tablet.

Several hours earlier, they had exited a silver long duration hybrid airship.

[The Macabees]

— Simeon Ming

She saw him enter the lobby of the western exposition hall with a man trailing by his side. The head of Ming Commercial House was slowly wandering from booth to booth as his lackey photographed things that Simeon Ming pointed to. She stood from her seat on the upper balcony that overhung the lower floor looking at that wretched soul serve his master.

Her hair was wrapped in a bun that went with the cute large-framed glasses she wore only on jobs like these. Standing, she stepped into the powder room by the top of the escalators, heading to the mirror right away and slapping her purse on the marble countertop. Zipping it open she pulled out her lipstick and gave her lips another pass, puckering them as if kissing at the mirror. She put the lipstick back in her purse and leaned her hips while looking up and down at her reflection. "Hm," she muttered, pulling down and about at the thin collar of her low cut shirt to make her already ample breasts look bigger. "That's much better, yes."

Man is a creature of habit. Study a person's routine and manner long enough and you can start to predict him. She hadn't seen him with her own eyes before today but, in a way, she had been studying Simeon Ming for over two years now.

She descended the escalator, returning any ogling eyes with a dangerous, flat stare of her own. She looked good, with her thin, tall heels and skirt that ended well above the knees. Of course she looked good, this outfit had been optimized based on a self-repeating and self-learning regression analysis of just over two years of data. The woman knew she was beautiful, with her long, flowing hair and green eyes. She was born knowing.

Simeon was looking at another booth now, one almost at the foot of the glass escalator. The stall was a smaller area than the others, most likely a minor nation or a colony of a larger one. Its white walls moved around it like a wave, in the same pattern as the rest of the building's interior. An interesting choice of decor, she noted, given the fair ground's more antique exterior.

Just at the base of the escalator were a number of small round tables that belonged to the coffee cart parked right beneath the mechanical staircase. As she walked on to the ground floor, she grabbed an unattended cup of coffee off one of the tables while its owner blabbed through her earpiece and looked the other way. Truth be told, she didn't like coffee much. It did nothing for her, you see. No effect on the body whatsoever; none. Not to mention the substance's acidity and the harm that can do to someone's inside, even to unwary humans. She was not unwary, of course. The coffee's purpose was purely utilitarian.

Two steps later, the lackey turned into her, knocking the cup of coffee out of her hand and sending it flying. Much of the liquid seemed to land on him, soaking and staining his shirt and pants. "Oh my goodness," she said, "I'm so sorry. I was just walking and I clearly wasn't paying attention—"

"What's going on?" she understood Simeon to say.

"Oh...oh my, Mr. Simeon Ming. I didn't recognize you. My name is Kyrelis Alamán. I know and love your work on the n-factor asset pricing model." She looked down at the mess, her face heating up. "Again, I'm so sorry."

[UniversalCommons]

— Simeon Ming

She saw him enter the lobby of the western exposition hall with a man trailing by his side. The head of Ming Commercial House was slowly wandering from booth to booth as his lackey photographed things that Simeon Ming pointed to. She stood from her seat on the upper balcony that overhung the lower floor looking at that wretched soul serve his master.

Her hair was wrapped in a bun that went with the cute large-framed glasses she wore only on jobs like these. Standing, she stepped into the powder room by the top of the escalators, heading to the mirror right away and slapping her purse on the marble countertop. Zipping it open she pulled out her lipstick and gave her lips another pass, puckering them as if kissing at the mirror. She put the lipstick back in her purse and leaned her hips while looking up and down at her reflection. "Hm," she muttered, pulling down and about at the thin collar of her low cut shirt to make her already ample breasts look bigger. "That's much better, yes."

Man is a creature of habit. Study a person's routine and manner long enough and you can start to predict him. She hadn't seen him with her own eyes before today but, in a way, she had been studying Simeon Ming for over two years now.

She descended the escalator, returning any ogling eyes with a dangerous, flat stare of her own. She looked good, with her thin, tall heels and skirt that ended well above the knees. Of course she looked good, this outfit had been optimized based on a self-repeating and self-learning regression analysis of just over two years of data. The woman knew she was beautiful, with her long, flowing hair and green eyes. She was born knowing.

Simeon was looking at another booth now, one almost at the foot of the glass escalator. The stall was a smaller area than the others, most likely a minor nation or a colony of a larger one. Its white walls moved around it like a wave, in the same pattern as the rest of the building's interior. An interesting choice of decor, she noted, given the fair ground's more antique exterior.

Just at the base of the escalator were a number of small round tables that belonged to the coffee cart parked right beneath the mechanical staircase. As she walked on to the ground floor, she grabbed an unattended cup of coffee off one of the tables while its owner blabbed through her earpiece and looked the other way. Truth be told, she didn't like coffee much. It did nothing for her, you see. No effect on the body whatsoever; none. Not to mention the substance's acidity and the harm that can do to someone's inside, even to unwary humans. She was not unwary, of course. The coffee's purpose was purely utilitarian.

Two steps later, the lackey turned into her, knocking the cup of coffee out of her hand and sending it flying. Much of the liquid seemed to land on him, soaking and staining his shirt and pants. "Oh my goodness," she said, "I'm so sorry. I was just walking and I clearly wasn't paying attention—"

"What's going on?" she understood Simeon to say.

"Oh...oh my, Mr. Simeon Ming. I didn't recognize you. My name is Kyrelis Alamán. I know and love your work on the n-factor asset pricing model." She looked down at the mess, her face heating up. "Again, I'm so sorry."

Albom, bowed slightly, wincing, "Excuse me ma'am, Harmony be with you." His look is impassive. You can see his breathing changing slightly. The coffee appears to bead on the front of his clothing like there is underlayer of some kind.

Simeon Ming, "Please sit down, Albon." Albon sits quietly wiping off the tablet. Then presses a button. His eyes have softened slightly.

Simeon Ming looked her over. He adjusted a collar tab and swallowed. " It is not a problem. Ah yes, the n-factor asset pricing model, I think I wrote that with a colleague, Hermina Ohyes Director of Accounting, are you an accountant? We are always looking for human capital to work for the Ming Commercial House in a variety of functions, that and a variety of different types of real estate." A drop of sweat appeared above his right eye. He relaxed a bit and smiled twisting his mustache, "So tell me about yourself, if you read an article about me, you must know something about me. In the greater picture of things, I am really not that important." He puts his hands in his lap.

He thought, "I want to know about this woman. It is time to hang up my ego on the coatrack and draw her out." He tries to remain composed but his eyes wander a bit to her ample bosom.

[United World Order]

Fedala, Macabea,
Gardens of Jedora,
Western Exposition Hall.

The exposition bid had not gone the way those within the National Socialist Party had envisioned it to have gone. However they had expected their bid not to win and be the face of the 1st region wide exposition which was focused on trade and relations between the many nations of Dienstad. Despite the fact that many in the national government including the Reichsfuhrer himself had no true interest in such an event, the National Socialist Party took it as a opportunity to enlighten Dienstadi's across the region. It had gained approval for the establishment of a 'booth' in the exposition by the Party Chancellery and was allocated the proper funds and resources to do so. The booth its self comprised of two rooms within the Western exposition hall and it would be notably easy to tell who's booth this one belonged to as the flag of the swastika which was also the official flag of the Party was hung outside the booth area. Inside the first room which was the room those who visited the booth would enter through, was decorated to the last detail in paraphernalia dedicated to the National Socialist Party and it's movement in the Ordenite Reich. It showcased a variety of banners, flags and even current uniforms of the Party which were on display in the room. Also showcased were the organizations who now more or so are affiliated with the National Socialist Party, giving basic information on these organizations for viewers to read and learn if they wished. Information was also provided on the Party its self with mostly basic run downs of how the Party functioned day by day. Visitors would also be able to receive a free copy of the 'Unser Kampf' book of the Party that had been authored by the original and first Reichsfuhrer of the Ordenite Reich and had been widely accepted as the 'bible' of National Socialism. Other books were also available along with magazines from different Party affiliated publishers and authors too for the enjoyment of the persons who visited. Widescreen TVs were also present inside both rooms and played a variety of Party related content made available by the Reichsministry of Propaganda and Enlightenment and the Party Press Office.

The second room was dedicated solely to the history of the Party and was decorated and detailed to show this. It would be comprised of historical documents related to the Party, which were nothing more than copies of the original document. Information on the history of the Party was readily available to viewers who would browse the second room, flags, banners and posters would also be displayed and in chronological order based on their use historically. The staff who maintained and represented what the booth was about and it's country of origin, which was obvious as the Ordenite Reich on the Hugen continent in Central Dienstad. The booth was managed by 8 persons who were sons of several 'Party Comrades' had been allowed mostly due to the influence these boy's fathers had in the Party. They all looked no older than 22 years old and were all wearing their Orden Youth uniform to represent their affiliation within the Party as a whole. They all maintain a strong retention of all their training and indoctrination done by the State and the Party who were essentially the same. All eight were allowed to converse with visitors if asked by visitors. Pamphlets were also made available to visitors for reading material which consisted of a letter from several prominent Reich officials on the fruits and tranquility achieved under National Socialism and even providing arguments against both Capitalism and Marxism in general but some forms of socialism are also discredited by the Reich.

[Macisikan]

Every now and again the Realm’s curiosity was piqued by some event beyond the rift and it stirred from its long slumber. Usually all that happened was some sort of electronic intelligence gathering. From time to time a physical asset was put into the area to make that easier; a satellite rerouted overhead, or a submarine popping up nearby. Occasionally an agent from the Tal Dumat turned up to take a look – usually one of the foreign (i.e., disposable) recruits.

But every now and again an actual citizen came to the party; this expo such a time. The Extraregional Relations Council was downright interested, and so Sir Rashore L’kani, accompanied by a handful of assistants, had been dispatched (through a relay from a couple intermediary nations) to check it out and report back.

He was, at present, wandering the halls with an air of idle curiosity, occasionally exchanging a remark in his native tongue with one of his countrymen.

[The Macabees]

— Simeon Ming

Kyrelis noticed something change in the man called Albon's eyes. She wasn't quite sure what it was, but she felt a strange sensation in what one might call the frontal lobe. It was a...realization. What it was that she recognized she did not yet know, but it was if it was at the tip of her tongue. Her focus was Simeon, though.

"In the greater picture of things, I am really not that important," he said.

Kyrelis smiled. "Our importance is something that is difficult to gauge in the present. No doubt that your theory on n-factor asset pricing will prove to be a crucial force in stabilizing capital markets."

She turned to Albon quickly, and said, "I must apologize again. I feel so terrible. Still, I would not want to be rude and abandon Mr. Ming now that we are in mid-conversation. Besides, I doubt I will ever have a chance like this again. Could you be a dear and fetch me another coffee? I'd love a presa" — what in Aman many called an espresso — "with a lick of cream, please." She turned her attention back to Simeon before Albon had a chance to protest.

"You asked me what I know about you, Mr. Ming," she continued. "Very little, I must admit. You are more like a hero to me, someone who's still more myth than reality to me. Tell me, Simeon...I hope I am not being too forward...," she looked at him with her big, emerald-colored eyes, "what does a man like you like to do?"


— Rashore L’kani

The fact that he wasn't a True human never crossed his mind. He had no heart, no brain — at least, not a True brain —, no lungs, only a CPU and machine parts. It was not a problem that troubled him; it was not even a problem, not a concept that he grappled with. It was just what is. A Fact, or Truth, like any other. A facet of his existence; his raison d'etre, as the Cerfondi would say.

Rogar Verona was his name. At least, it was the one given to him for Rogar did not know himself by a name, nor did he understand what the significance of a name was. He was not an individual, he was not even property, all that Rogar knew was that his task was to greet the guests and help guide them through the expo grounds. And that was exactly what he was doing, as he approached a group of people that had just walked into Halle* J. He scanned them from afar and soon recognized Sir Rashore L'kani the various other Macisikans around him. Rogar was not quite sure what relationship the others bore with him, as the data did not say that. They had only asked for names for entry badge purchase, and whatever was known about those names was public information — assuming the names were True names to begin with.

Rogar bowed slightly when he approached. "Sir L'kani," he said in their native tongue. His movements were fully natural and human-like. It would be hard to tell him for what he was, a trait that his manufacturer had invested heavily into given it was common knowledge that True humans preferred other True humans to bots. "It is a pleasure to see you and your fellow Macisikans here. My name is Rogar Verona and I am to be your guide today. Tell me your interests and I shall show you around."



Notes:

* Halle is the díenstadi word for 'hall.'

[Macisikan]

The first response from the group was to blink several times and exchange glances; they were unused to hearing their native tongue spoken outside of Vårheim – it wasn’t taught anywhere else after all.

«Ser Verona,» Sir Rashore replied, before the silence got awkward, «thank you very much for your assistance. It would be immensely helpful if you could just outline exactly what is on offer – the theme of this expo is, broadly, terrestrial trade within Greater Dienstad, but that is awfully broad. Perhaps we could start with our gracious hosts, and explore the booth the Golden Throne has established to showcase itself?» he let the question hang a moment, before continuing.

«The issue here is, I am sorry to say, that we do not have much first-hand experience with your region – so we would like to go some way towards remedying that,» he added.

The Realm had never directly interacted with the Golden Throne, but had heard of the hosting nation. A relatively favourable impression had been built up, but it was, well, distant; based primarily on the Golden Throne’s foreign policy outcomes, rather than what the people or the country was actually like.

[UniversalCommons]

Kyrelis noticed something change in the man called Albon's eyes. She wasn't quite sure what it was, but she felt a strange sensation in what one might call the frontal lobe. It was a...realization. What it was that she recognized she did not yet know, but it was if it was at the tip of her tongue. Her focus was Simeon, though.

"In the greater picture of things, I am really not that important," he said.

Kyrelis smiled. "Our importance is something that is difficult to gauge in the present. No doubt that your theory on n-factor asset pricing will prove to be a crucial force in stabilizing capital markets."

She turned to Albon quickly, and said, "I must apologize again. I feel so terrible. Still, I would not want to be rude and abandon Mr. Ming now that we are in mid-conversation. Besides, I doubt I will ever have a chance like this again. Could you be a dear and fetch me another coffee? I'd love a presa" — what in Aman many called an espresso — "with a lick of cream, please." She turned her attention back to Simeon before Albon had a chance to protest.

"You asked me what I know about you, Mr. Ming," she continued. "Very little, I must admit. You are more like a hero to me, someone who's still more myth than reality to me. Tell me, Simeon...I hope I am not being too forward...," she looked at him with her big, emerald-colored eyes, "what does a man like you like to do?"

Albon got up, he went and got a coffee with cream then came back, he never stopped watching Simeon and the young woman. She had a look that was perfect, flawless, more perfect than plastic surgery. It made him a bit uneasy. He had a scooby at home, a trained guard dog that was enhanced.

Simeon Ming, "Ms. Kyrelis, may I call you that. I am on a business trip. I am a business person. I enjoy music tremendously, fine jewelry and clothes, fine wine and dining, swimming and diving, and reading in my study with old fashioned books when I have the time." He holds up a ring. It has a relief cut in it of a blob, the Universal Commons national animal. "This ring has been in my family for three generations. You can see the fine eyestalks if you look closely and the sharp teeth. They watch things intently. This will not be in my official bio. I am no hero, merely an upstanding citizen of my nation. I am here to see what your country has to offer. As a finance or accounting person, you must know the highest quality goods for trade you can offer. This is after all why my country sent me here."

[United Vallerian Republic]

Greater Dienstad Exposition Committee for the United Vallerian Republic
Design Selection Results for Valleria Pavillion



The planned pavilion

The Exposition Committee is pleased to announce the final design, designed by the Vallerian Public Works Department. The pavilion will highlight the successes of Vallerian airlines RegionAir and InterVal Airlines, befitting the theme of overland, maritime, and aerospace trade.

The design features a small, one level building keeping with the Macabéan style. The walls are cream brick, broken up by a trim of wooden frames painted with an Oxford Blue-esque colour. The roof is a warm grey slate roof. The front features an overhang supported columns painted similarly to that of the trim. The lower and upper portions of the wall are covered in a tan-coloured plaster, and the left wall features a long row of windows, which will bathe the seating area in natural light. There is also a small skylight to take advantage of Fedala’s sunny environment while still pertaining to the theme.

The interior strives to be modern and minimalistic while implementing hints of New Vallerian architectural styles. It features clean, simplistic white plaster walls, light birch floors, and heavy darkly-stained Vallerian oak roof beams, with ceiling fans hanging from them at regular intervals. The right wall features two booths for RegionAir and InterVal Airlines, showcasing miniature aircraft models, routes, etc. The front wall contains two large screens showcasing major events in Vallerian history. The rear wall has a small cafe showcasing Vallerian pastries and other delicacies. In the remaining space near the windows, there are several tables and chairs to allow expo-goers to sit down and to encourage them to interact.

Exposition attendance will be encouraged by lower-fare and more frequent flights to Fedala from major cities such as New Valleria and Old Valleria, and Ibnir. RegionAir will provide discounted flights to and from these major cities.

[The Macabees]

— Simeon Ming

"Ms. Kyrelis, may I call you that," said Simeon.

"Of course," she responded.

When Albon returned with the coffee, as Simeon spoke of himself, the aid gave her a strange look. Kyrelis turned her head to him briefly and smiled. She turned her attention back to Simeon smoothly, but not too smoothly. "...This is after all why my country sent me here," he said.

The smile she had given Albon was tame by comparison to the one she gave Simeon. "You are here as a trade representative, then," she said, taking a sip from the porcelain cup Albon had brought her. "You are in good hands then because that is exactly my specialty. In fact, I am here on company time. You see, I am meeting with a man from Díenbank, a Mr. Hus Jorvlen, and I would love to introduce you two. We are to talk about a possible partnership between the clearinghouse and GATA, my employer. Would you like to come? I do think that you'd gain much from knowing him, perhaps a business opportunity even. C'mon, please do come with. It would be my honor."



— Rashore L’kani

"The issue here is, I am sorry to say, that we do not have much first-hand experience with your region – so we would like to go some way towards remedying that," said Rashore L'kani, the Macisikan.

Rogar smiled, and said, "That is not a problem, Mr. L'kani."

One had to expect that many guests would not know where to start. There were many booths, many countries with complex histories, and it could all be a bit overwhelming. Of course, that is why machines like Rogar existed. "Tell me," he said, "tell me of Macisikan. The more you teach me of your country, the better the recommendations I can give." Interesting the use of the word I, a word he did not know for what it truly meant, for there was no 'him' but only the algorithm in the CPU that controlled Rogar. It was not a philosophical question that concerned poor Rogar, regardless. His attention was squarely on L'kani and the others with him.


— Fair Grounds

Various booths were already in order and prepared to host curious guests. The Ordenites in the western hall had quite the exhibit, one that would prove interesting to individuals of all walks and experiences. Outside, the United Vallerian Republic and Eitoan had unveiled their own buildings, blending the Macabéan architectural style with their own flavor, giving their booths an interesting character that was bound to impress fairgoers. As more booths were unveiled, the fair attendants — machines like Rogar — helped guests around, giving them customized experiences based on an algorithm fueled by their feedback, preferences, tone, and hundreds of other factors.

[UniversalCommons]

[quote="The Macabees";p="33840594"][blocktext]— Simeon Ming

"Ms. Kyrelis, may I call you that," said Simeon.

"Of course," she responded.

When Albon returned with the coffee, as Simeon spoke of himself, the aid gave her a strange look. Kyrelis turned her head to him briefly and smiled. She turned her attention back to Simeon smoothly, but not too smoothly. "...This is after all why my country sent me here," he said.

The smile she had given Albon was tame by comparison to the one she gave Simeon. "You are here as a trade representative, then," she said, taking a sip from the porcelain cup Albon had brought her. "You are in good hands then because that is exactly my specialty. In fact, I am here on company time. You see, I am meeting with a man from Díenbank, a Mr. Hus Jorvlen, and I would love to introduce you two. We are to talk about a possible partnership between the clearinghouse and GATA, my employer. Would you like to come? I do think that you'd gain much from knowing him, perhaps a business opportunity even. C'mon, please do come with. It would be my honor."

Simeon Ming, "Ms. Kyrelis, I would certainly like to come. It would be a pleasure to meet with Mr. Hus Jorvlen. There are a number of special plans which we are prepared to offer. We have a number of transportation designs including the HALS (High Altitude Launch System) Reusable Launch System airship, the silver liner long haul cargo or passenger airship, and solar clipper cargo ship. Let us go forward into the future." He looks at Albon.

Albon nods and taps the data pad rapidly with two wands and passes the data pad to Simeon Ming.

Simeon Ming presses his thumb on the data pad. "I've informed my company that we are going to meet with Hus Jorvlen and you." Albon puts on a dark pair of dark glasses. He looks around the room.

[Macisikan]

“First, let’s talk in English,” L’kani said smoothly switching languages. “You speak Ka’ani decently for a foreigner, but your accent could stand some refinement,” it was a polite way of asking the other to please stop mangling the tongue.

“Now, you want to know of the Realm? That is…” he exhaled. Where to begin? “We are a constitutional monarchy and federal parliamentary democracy. High living standards… very high. Highly developed. High levels of automation and civil rights protections. Not really interested in the squabbles of other nations; we prefer to see if we can all get along, and just do without those with who we can’t. I apologise; you are asking an extremely broad question, and if I was to give you a thorough grounding we would be here, quite literally, for years,” he paused a moment.

“Essentially, we like nations that are rather like us,” he added. “They don’t have to be democratic, but they should look after their people. All of their people. They ought not be bellicose or needlessly belligerent. Too much religiousness is also, we find, an impediment. They should be stable, and have a sensible, level-headed approach to dealing with others – does it matter if the person trying to buy your goods is gay, or female, or non-human, or of a different race, if their coin is good? No; and the nations who think it does, those are not sensible nations. And they should understand; if they are courteous to us, we shall be courteous in return. If they are needlessly antagonistic, well, we have better things to do with our time.”


OOC: that was surprisingly difficult, especially as I'm doing some serious rearranging of the national furniture right now.

[The Macabees]

— Simeon Ming

"Excellent," Kyrelis said. "Let's go now, then. Mr. Jorvlen should be waiting for us shortly." Behind her, she left behind most of the coffee that Albon had brought her.

She led them out of the large hall and on to the fairgrounds. The long, long hall was flanked by an equally as perpetual pool that spanned no more than a slim forty feet wide. Within it was a replica of Greater Díenstad's continents and islands, connected by all the maritime, overland, and aerospace trade routes by strings of LED lights. At intervals, fountains rained water from above.

"He is right this way," she said. "Mr. Jorvlen agreed to meet at the Kas'Lovan, the museum."

They walked for some time, past stunning buildings flying dozens of different flags. Large throngs of people walked in all directions all around them, like an ocean of bodies circulating around the gardens. The exposition had brought hundreds of thousands of local Fedalans out already and, with over two hundred million souls living in the city and its greater megalopolis, there were plenty of people who had yet to see it. As they moved farther to the northern edge of the gardens, a utility street swooped in beside them as the path they were on became a sidewalk. They could see the ornamental walls of the fairgrounds no more than seven hundred feet away.

A car came to a stop on their side. Black and sleek, it looked like an automobile of quite some luxury. Kyrelis seemed to recognize it or, otherwise, it alarmed her very much. Before she had as much a chance to jump, though, two figures exited the vehicle, one from the rear right-hand side and the other from the front passenger seat. They were carrying submachine guns, short and mean-looking — but the firearm and the men.

The one closest to them, the one who had come out of the back seat, walked briskly to Albon. "Stay back," he said, pointing his firearm at Mr. Ming's assistant.

The other one was by them before anybody had as much noticed him moving. His gun was pointed at Simeon and Kyrelis. "You two, get in the car," he said. "Now. Or your man here gets whacked."

Kyrelis looked at Simeon questionably, the fear in her face, "We should do as he says."


— Rashore L’kani

"All reasonable stances," said Rogar, in stevidian — which was what these Macisikans called english. His díenstadi accent was apparent, but not hard to understand at all.

But which booth fit the parameters? There were two that came to mind, actually: Eitoan and the United Vallerian Republic. The Fourth Reich's was, of course, the closest, but it was the opposite of what Mr. L'kani had described. Still, it would be good to visit it before the day's end. Perhaps it would be their second to last stop, if Mr. L'kani and his party did not decide to end it early of course.

"I am certain that the Eitoan exhibit would be a fantastic first stop," he said. "There, you will get a bare look at their country's industry and what it can offer your own, and I am equally as sure that your two governments will get along quite well. Or, perhaps you would prefer the Vallerian exhibit. The main attraction is RegionAir and InterVal Airlines, two significant carriers. I will guide you to the exhibit of your choosing, Mr. L'kani."

[OOC: In both cases, leaving it off where you can make a choice as to the direction of the plot.]

[UniversalCommons]

Albon bowed slightly, backed up a little bit and said "Peace be with you." He pressed a panic button in his pocket. His glasses were G8 computerized recording devices which streamed wifi directly to the Airship in the harbor. He took a close look at the car and the two people.

Simeon Ming smiled and said "Of course." He pressed one of the rings in his hands and a small pill rolled into his hand. He started to get into the car then tripped and fell out of the car sideways pissing on himself in the process.Then he farted and went in his pants. He appeared to have bumped his head. Yellow fluid from the popped pill could be seen trickling from between his fingers.

In the airship in the harbor, there was a beeping sound. Marcon Cruonis, said, "Sir we have a problem. I believe there is an abduction underway. I have confirmed the street location with the GPS from the tablet and am sending the location to Expo security. They should be able to follow the car directly."

Captain Ohyay, "I don't give a damn, have them fire up the engines."

Marcus Cruonis. "Sir, the expo is quite a ways away, two hours. They took train to the expo."

Captain Ohyay, "I still want to get them."

Marcus Cruonis pounds his hand on the edge of his seat. 'Why didn't we take more precautions."

Captain Ohyay "We'll do what we can."

[Macisikan]

“Then we shall go to the Eitoan exhibit first, and the Vallerian exhibit second,” L’kani said, with a smile. “And, if it is possible, can we also see the exhibit from the host nation? We have heard positive things about the Golden Throne; it would be nice to see how they have chosen to present themselves.”

As they were led away, one of the junior members of the entourage sidled up next to Rogar. “Hi,” he said quietly, “I’m Dakrati Uskan, with the protocol office. They send us along with every delegation because sooner or later we encounter this issue with styles and forms of address; my boss hasn’t been called ‘Mr L’Kani’ in about twenty years; the correct form of address is ‘Sir Rashore’. He’s overlooking it for now, but sooner or later he’s going to see it as simply being rude. There’s no-one else you need to do anything special for.”

L’Kani and the others were right behind them, but seemingly oblivious to the discussion; everyone learned to pretend to find the scenery fascinating when the protocol officers did this – it spared people embarrassment.

OOC; also the demonym is “Macisikani”.

[Yohannes]

---

Kayla Williams could not say she was that hopeful to be visiting the Greater Dienstad Regional Expo. It was pretty and certainly very respectable, but the last three years of wheeling and dealing for the Bank of Yohannes had brought her to regard them merely as a typically boring, though good-natured, function that exercise very little real impact over her life. Attending this was, she decided, only obligatory and proper for a young lady of her distinction. She was, after all, responsible for the management of investment funds in at least fifty nations outside the continent of Yohannes. Carousing with diplomats and senior managers over the years had been pleasant enough, but as she arrived at the expo ground she could not avoid but to hope that she would learn about something, anything, more than the usual propaganda of national interests: not how great one’s government is; not how amazing one’s state-sponsored enterprise is, and certainly not how effective one’s military technology is. She wanted to see something more. Culture. Sports. History. People.

The essence of a nation.

Kayla had chosen a public bus on her way here, and had to hold on for dear life whilst she stood amidst the moving bus; the throng of passengers attempting to push their way into the already overcrowded bus; and the intoxicating Macabean rush hour: symbols of the thriving economy of the Golden Throne.

“Special Stop: Greater Dienstad Regional Expo I.”

[...]

“Cheers driver.”

No reply.

When the bus driver shut the door roughly in her wake, Kayla clutched her bag and held on for dear life once more. She looked at the huge entrance. It said: Greater Díenstad regional expo. Fedala.

“Right on, Kayla, you are here. You can do this. Right on.”

Kayla considered herself casually dressed in masculine style, a white shirt and dark pants. She signed in without waiting for any polite greetings from the security attendant and made her way to the centre of the exhibition. Hopefully she would meet someone vaguely respectable soon. She removed her embarrassingly big “BANK OF YOHANNES” identification card and smiled, looking left and right.

Just what did this place have in store?

---

[Republic of Vectors]

The Vectorian section in the conference hall was of moderate size, just a large walled off section the size of a few household rooms, but every part of the area was crowded with things, be them new or old, items that spoke of life and prosperity within the Republic.
There were eight people staffing the section, of which two were on break/milling around at any time. Currently on break was Mike Tesser, a representative from the Vectorian national news company; United Newsline. Kyle Seanson, the other person on break, had taken to the food court, perhaps in an effort to learn new food types to serve important figures when they visited Government Place in Vectors. As the chief chef in Government Place, it was very, very important to have a wide knowledge of food, both domestic and foreign to serve a wide variety of clientele.

Anyways, Mike Tesser went on his merry way and slowly walked through the enormous expo center within the gardens. Mike wandered rather aimlessly, not stopping for too long in any one area until he entered the Western hall. There he spied a flag that brought back memories from history books. The Ordenite Reich. How could such a nation survive all these years alongside the Republic of Vectors? How could these people survive, knowing there was an opposite social spectrum with the Macabees, or Lamoni, or almost anyone else in the region. It was hard to think that such conditions may be tolerated.
Though as Mike reflected on this, a trickle of doubt crept into his mind; maybe they are not like the model presented by history? The media executive looked at the rooms with the flags draped in their walls, then looked further down the walkway where there was laughter and freedom, and the curiosity kicked in. Mike Tesser entered Ordenite Reichs rooms to see if this was anything like he expected.

[Eitoan]

“Then we shall go to the Eitoan exhibit first, and the Vallerian exhibit second,” L’kani said, with a smile. “And, if it is possible, can we also see the exhibit from the host nation? We have heard positive things about the Golden Throne; it would be nice to see how they have chosen to present themselves.”

As they were led away, one of the junior members of the entourage sidled up next to Rogar. “Hi,” he said quietly, “I’m Dakrati Uskan, with the protocol office. They send us along with every delegation because sooner or later we encounter this issue with styles and forms of address; my boss hasn’t been called ‘Mr L’Kani’ in about twenty years; the correct form of address is ‘Sir Rashore’. He’s overlooking it for now, but sooner or later he’s going to see it as simply being rude. There’s no-one else you need to do anything special for.”

L’Kani and the others were right behind them, but seemingly oblivious to the discussion; everyone learned to pretend to find the scenery fascinating when the protocol officers did this – it spared people embarrassment.

OOC; also the demonym is “Macisikani”.

"We hope you enjoy the Eitoan Pavilion - most visitors start at the top of the tower, and work their way down. Don't forget, refreshments are available on the ground floor" she chirped merrily as she guided a large Amani family in the direction of the exhibits. Linda Drake was still excited at her opportunity overseas, far from the drudgery of booking conventions at the East Berwyn Convocation Center. Perky, sweet, and second runner up in the Miss Massac Territory beauty contest three years ago, She was thrilled upon being assigned to the Expo staff by Eitoan General Hospitality, her employer, and carried this attitude with her every day as part of the 1st shift greeting crew. Things had gone smoothly so far, the biggest challenge having been calming a few toddlers that had meandered aimlessly into the group VR areas in the first week, an omission that was rapidly corrected by stationing guides to discourage the problem from being repeated. She had worked hard to eliminate her flat inland accent, and received good reviews of her work at the Expo so far. And it was a pleasant job, reasonable hours, and an exciting night life in one of the most dynamic cities in the region.

Most of the visitors so far had been families, schoolchildren on field trips, or businessmen. But a small group approached, more official looking. She smiled brightly and moved closer to the visitors. They appeared to be lead by what she could surmise was Protocol Officer.

"Hello, and welcome to the Eitoan Tower. We have displays featuring Eitoan technology and history, and offer group VR activities simulating some of our more important sports events, and some of the more dramatic periods from our past. You can find a visitors guide off to the right". Pausing for a response, Linda continued "If you have any questions about our exhibit, or Eitoan in general, I would be happy to be of assistance".

[Macisikan]

OOC: I assumed she was wearing a name badge.

IC:
The protocol officer returned Drake’s smile.

“Sera,” he used his homeland’s term for Ms “I’m Dakrati Uskan, and this is Sir Rashore L’Kani; we have been sent by the External Affairs and Security Ministry in the Realm of the Federated Star Empire of Macisikan,” behind him the knight smiled and inclined his head.

“We are primarily here on what you would call a fact-finding mission,” Uskan continued. “Mainly; to learn about the cultures and peoples here. Our estimable guide,” here he indicated Rogar, “has recommended we start here, with the Eitoan exhibit. We are, I confess, completely unfamiliar with your nation; so where would you recommend we start?”

[Eitoan]

OOC: I assumed she was wearing a name badge.

IC:
The protocol officer returned Drake’s smile.

“Sera,” he used his homeland’s term for Ms “I’m Dakrati Uskan, and this is Sir Rashore L’Kani; we have been sent by the External Affairs and Security Ministry in the Realm of the Federated Star Empire of Macisikan,” behind him the knight smiled and inclined his head.

“We are primarily here on what you would call a fact-finding mission,” Uskan continued. “Mainly; to learn about the cultures and peoples here. Our estimable guide,” here he indicated Rogar, “has recommended we start here, with the Eitoan exhibit. We are, I confess, completely unfamiliar with your nation; so where would you recommend we start?”

LInda addressed Dakrati, and stepped toward the visiting dignitaries. "My pleasure", she said. "The Republic of Eitoan is in northwest continental Greater Dienstad. It shares a border with Aurensia to the south, and is a unitary presidential democracy. Our country is in the temperate zone. The climate is temperate and oceanic (Köppen climate classification Cfb), and tends to be very changeable, but not normally extreme.

There is a narrow coastal plain, giving way to the rolling hills and verdant valleys of much of the interior. Craggy mountain ranges define the western and northwest frontiers, punctuated by high passes. The lower Smigly Ridge separates the plateaus of the south from much of the rest of the country.

The Kingdom of Eitoan emerged as an independent sovereign state in the late Middle Ages and continued to exist until 1425, devolving into a Ralkovian colony, ruled by an Imperial Viceroy. During the colonial era the legal, educational, and religious system for the colonists was patterned on that of Ralkovia, while native Eitoan traditions persisted in the hinterland. The Ralkovian influence on Eitoan culture is ever present in the fine arts and literature, with the Eitoan Resurgence of the 1800's making a larger impact in the realm of music, cuisine, and sports. Many folk traditions of the indigenous Eitoan tribes persist to this day, though tempered by the colonial influence.

Following our 1901 Declaration of Independence, Ralkovian forces were expelled from Eitoan by 1904. After three years of military rule, a constitution took effect in 1907, the year of the first elections for the legislature and president.

Eitoan was has evolved from it's colonial role as a supplier of agricultural goods and raw materials at the start of the Industrial Revolution to become a significant contributor in manufacturing in the post-independence period. This left a legacy in the diversity of goods and services which Eitoan produces, from textiles, beer and flour to jet engines, buses, computer software, ships, avionics and microelectronics, as well as banking, insurance, investment management and other related financial services. In common with most other advanced industrialised economies, Eitoan has seen a decline in the importance of both manufacturing industries and primary-based extractive industries. This has, however, been combined with a rise in the service sector of the economy, which has grown to be the largest sector in Eitoan.

Now, as to the exhibits, may I suggest starting at the observation deck, which offers a panoramic view of the Expo grounds. As you descend through the tower a theme tying all exhibits together will be an adaptation of Martin Manufacturing’s Trunk Material Handling Network, the backbone of Eitoan distribution of bulk goods and intermodal transportation, recently replacing or renovating our rail and port facilities. Many of the exhibits below the observation deck offer an Enhanced Group Virtual Reality experience. Visitors can “participate” in the important cycle of export financing, transportation, and distribution, or the workings of an oncological nanobot, one of our best contributions to modern medicine. Another experience for the history minded is the simulation of the 1619 Defenestration of Holon, when the Eitoan Estates of the far north rose up against their colonial overlords, as immortalized in the Legend of William the Tall. On the ground floor we have a small gallery featuring such masterpieces as Anjek’s Victory at Stickney during the War of Independence, and priceless cubist and abstract works on loan from our leading museums.

If you have any further questions at this time, I'd be happy to answer them for you. Or you can ask one of our attenants, in grey suits and scarlet ties, available throughout the pavilion. We're here to assist you!"

She beamed at Dakrati. "Just out of curiosity, what interests you most about our country?"

[Macisikan]

The Macisikani blinked at the torrent of information, but it was a reaction of surprise; something about them said they were able to keep up.

At the question, Dakrati turned to his superior, and who stepped forward delivering a smile to Linda, before indicating Rogar.

“Our guide here has indicated that your government is what we call a sensible government,” he said smoothly. “We are told you look after your people, you don’t pick fights, you are stable, and you approach your dealings with others with a, shall we say, fair eye. By which I mean; you don’t care what they are, but how they conduct themselves, and if their credit is any good. We have no contact, formal or informal, with your region before now, but we have heard mostly favourable things. Now, while the scope for some activities are limited by circumstance, we think that we can at least exchange views with some of your nations, and learn from each other. Which brings me to the answer to your question,” he smiled again.

“What interests us about the Republic is primarily where you are and where you intend to go. Nations such as your own approach a crossroads; we’ve seen it before. So we are interested to see how you intend to handle your arrival, and which path you will take, though if your countrymen are as capable as you, I think you will handle it well.”

[The Macabees]

Responses to Yohannes, Vectors, and Macisikan next.

— Simeon Ming

The gunmen slid into the car as soon as Kyrelis and Simeon were thrown in. It sped away then, quickly leaving the Gardens of Jendora.

Outside, the city of Fedala looked very different when compared to the gardens. Here, the banks of the Tagus were lined with beautiful buildings showcasing large flying buttresses and colorfully tiled domes. They looked as if they had stood there for hundreds of years and, unless one knew the history of the Golden Throne, one would be hardpressed to realize that the city had barely been built not much over 20 years ago. Not that either of our two protagonists were able to take in the beauty of Fedala, preoccupied as they were with their sudden and unexpected abduction.

The second gunman was seated to Kyrelis' right, next to the right-hand rear door. His gun was pointed right at them and she was sure that if he fired the bullet would go through her and the man she had brought into this. And she had brought him into this. These gunmen were here because of her.

If the Fedalan scenery outside of the gardens was not splendid enough to distract them from their present horrors, what came next surely must have caused Mr. Ming great concern. For the car took an on-ramp on to a boulevard that suddenly went underground. Its gradual slope went on for kilometers, ramps leading to different subterranean urban spaces built under the surface above. Fedala housed hundreds of millions of people and a quarter of them lived here, in the depths, all but forgotten. The deepest boroughs were still without electrical and clean water infrastructure, it was said. Here lived Fedala's poorest, the least valuable of immigrants, vagabonds, and the worst of the criminals.

This was the "Other Fedala."

They drove far into it, continuing along the boulevard for a long while until, finally, they took one of the ramps leading to a borough tucked away into the rock like a cave cluttered by steel stalagmites. Most of it was dimly lit, although parts had enough to light the whole cave if it weren't for towers of apartment buildings that were so cramped the light could barely seep beyond its immediate domain.

Hanging from the ceiling above the off-ramp was a sign that read 'ALKOBEN.'

Rumors were that not even the toughest security corps patrolled these streets. Justice and injustice were delivered jointly by the gangs and militias that thrived so far away from Fedala's imperial core, all puppets of a much greater force. The Klann Graaf governed here almost more than the city did, perhaps more so even. They sold their product, imported from local farmers and the Mokans, through the street gangs that pushed it to the same people that paid them for their protection.

They drove toward the lights along a broad avenue, the citadel of Klann Graaf. Kyrelis felt a sense of relief. Safety in the borough of Alkoben was a relative thing, but at least here the code of Graaf ran stronger than the law of the street.

It was not much longer before they reached a stretch of the avenue that was surrounded by tall, brightly lit buildings. Advertisements played on their glass surface and on gigantic screens hanging from the ceiling of the borough's chamber, and recorded voices and music blared on loudspeakers along the hundreds of storefronts that lined the street on either side. There were casinos, liquor stores, hotels, brothels, all a sinner's heart could desire. None of it illegal, either.

The car pulled into one of the hotels, its edges glittering with lights. Several armed men patrolled the sidewalks around them and there were four guards in the drop-off driveway. As soon as they came to a stop, all doors were opened by hotel workers and the gunmen with them in the car urged Kyrelis and Simeon out like ranchers prodding their cattle. They were escorted inside, although the two men put away their weapons to hide them from the guests inside. Those that came to these parts were the kind with an affinity to weapons, but in Klann Graaf's territory there was to be no violence. This was a place of business, and even the house guards kept their guns tucked away.

The noise of the machines, dice rolling across the table, winners yelling, and losers sobbing dominated all else. Thousands of people gambled away their fortune, seeking cheap thrills. Women mingled with men, most looking to be paid for a good night. The alcohol flowed freely, waitresses in scant clothing delivering the guests complimentary drinks.

As they walked, Kyrelis turned around quickly and whispered to Simeon, "Do not fret Mr. Ming, we will not be harmed."

No one noticed as they were pushed toward a hidden set of elevators, guarded by a team of five wide-set bouncers. Cameras all around tracked their route. One of the elevators opened with a ding, they were herded in, and then taken up several dozen stories. 51 to be precise.

The elevator's door opened to reveal a broad room that was exceptionally furnished. The ceramic flooring looked like wood and intricately carved trimming lined the room along baseboards and the top. The ceiling itself had a wide dome built into the structure above, painted with scenes of old Guffingfordi mythology. Two men sat behind a broad, heavy table made of a regal timber. Eight guards ringed the room, rifles sitting steadily in their hands.

Kyrelis and Simeon were sat down on the other side of the table.

"Well, well, well," said one of the men, the one sitting to Simeon's right, across from him. "Kyrelis, I thought we'd never catch you. And you bring us a guest. Mr. Simeon Ming, if I am not to be mistaken. You are a finance guy, a great one I here. And to have you here in Fedala, what a wonderful coincidence. I just couldn't let the opportunity pass. Two birds with one stone, and all."

The second man laughed. "Stop teasing them, Guus," he said. "Tell them why they are here."

"You have no patience, Laurens," tisked the first. "All in due course. First, let's learn a little bit more about our guest Mr. Ming. I have a feeling that this is a moment of opportunity. You see, Mr. Ming, I am a businessman much like you. A good one, I must say. Most of what you've seen here in Aboken is, in one way or another, mine. Most of those in this borough hop at my orders. I am a powerful, wealthy man, and I have much to offer a man like you. But I'd like to learn what kind of man you are. Tell me, are a man who senses an opportunity?"

Before he let Simeon answer, he turned to Kyrelis. "As for you, today will be your last. I will make sure I rid myself of you personally. What is your relationship with this...rat, Mr. Ming? It is troubling that a man of your stature would run with a woman of her's."

[The Macabees]

— Rashore L’kani
OOC — This takes place prior to arriving to Eitoan's booth.

"There’s no-one else you need to do anything special for," finished the man who had introduced himself as Dakrati Uskan.

"My apologies, then," replied Rogar, smiling. "I shall refer to Sir Rashore by his proper title then. Also, about the host's booth. The Golden Throne has decided not to open one, instead deciding that its culture and achievements are well enough portrayed in the Gardens of Jendora's many museums and other entertainments available. Perhaps he will be interested in one of the outside tours. I am here to guide you where you please. By the way, and it is not to be rude, what is it that Sir Rashore does exactly? You must excuse my ignorance."

It was an ignorance that he'd seek to bridge. Only with data would the guest get an optimal experience.


— Kayla Williams

Some empires ran on tribute. Others on oil. The Golden Throne ran on data.

Many paid attention to its financial industry, with its tens of thousands of banks, thousands of clearinghouses, and an ocean of liquidity wholesalers. Its complexity was as bewildering as the volume of capital that flowed through it, propelled by an empire in which rules were lax and where the region's criminal underworld had found a safe haven for their cash.

But even the financial industry, as marvelous as it was, was at the mercy of data. Everything was a metric these days. Big data companies collected their product wherever they could, contracting with firms, non-profit organizations, and other businesses to provide entrepreneurs in their niche with the data they needed to make wise business decisions. Individually, few of these data companies knew much on the whole, but together they represented an immense treasury of information on the people of the Golden Throne, and even internationally. The data clearinghouses that worked above them reached quite far, all considered, aggregating several thousand zettabytes of data points. And much as there were local clearinghouses, regional clearinghouses, national clearinghouses, and the great international investment clearinghouses of finance, these existed in the world of data.

Every major international clearinghouse, even regional financial clearinghouses, only became aware of Kayla Williams' arrival at Fedala because of big data.

Meike Bakhaus had become aware of her arrival that way, at least.

She saw the male tour guide head toward Kayla Williams when she entered Halle H. Those damn things were so fast. They looked so real, moved so casually, and spoke so authentically. Luckily, Meike was rather quick herself and she rose like a lioness to intercept the guide before he reached the Yohanni. "She's a friend of mine," she explained, with an arm around the guide's shoulder.

He looked at her, nodded, and walked back to where he had come from. She smiled and walked toward Kayla, who was looking at the interior architecture of the main exposition hall. "Kayla Williams," she said, as she approached. "Hi, my name is Meike Bakhaus. I'm with Sevalda Financial, a capital investment subsidiary of Díenbank, and I was sent to meet with you here. I promise that I was not sent on business. They offer me as a tour guide of sorts, to ensure that your stay here in Fedala is an enjoyable one. So, Kayla," Meike continued, after a short pause. "They tell me you like sports. Tell me, do you like financial sport?"


— Mike Tesser

Amir Pascari was not truly Vectorian, but he sure looked and sounded like one. Every detail, trait, and quality about him dripped Vectorian. Amir was a manifestation of modern brilliance, and he was waiting around the entrance of the Ordenite booth before the Vectorian booth attendant walked in. Interesting. A fascist sympathizer?

Amir did a quick check against the approved expo staff list and recognized the Vectorian as a certain Mike Tesser.

Then he consulted third party databases, the ones he had access to at least. He compiled all the data he could get, which was not much all considered.

Not much was known about him besides the boring stuff. His family, relationships, what he ate last night, all the little details that people so willingly exposed about themselves on social platforms that were constantly crawled by millions of little programs that covered the net like bacteria did over a wound. Amir followed him into the Ordenite booth, keeping enough of a distance to avoid spooking his target. He pretended to look at some of the exhibits, all while observing the other man and what he looked at. The Ordenite attendants, in accordance with their stereotype of being an unfriendly people, failed to greet the man.

He figured that Mike Tesser was on his break, so he would not have long. He ventured closer. "Hi," he said in a flawless Vectorian accent, outstretching his arm, "I recognized you from our booth. I just wanted to introduce myself to a fellow Vectorian. Out here, so far away, in such a cosmopolitan city, we're a rare breed. So, what brings you to this booth?"