Great war of the Countries Pt.4 (IC)

[Kurvi-Tasche]

The Taschist Strategic Rocket Force, armed with 305 ICBMs and 1,200 rockets, opens its silos and bunkers. One battery of 40 mobile Titan III missiles is deployed from their base in Kosice and launch their payload of VX nerve gas and Sarin towards Oppermanson. (OOC: If chemical weapons aren’t permitted at this stage, act like this never happened. This attack is to be the final catalyst for the civil war.)

In addition, the Taschist Navy, in all of its strength, attempt to sink the Second Mersidonian Fleet and the five nuclear submarines off of Romania. The entire Taschist Fleet is sunk within four hours of battle being joined, whilst the Mersidonians take no casualties.

Rommel sends a message to the leader of Kurvi-Tasche.
"Thank you for your support, however I fear this will be the end of South Acren. I recommend that you leave this war before it destroys you. This war will only result with death so please save your soldiers from the slaughter"
Meanwhile the SAN Fleets meet the fleet sent by Mersdon and start bombarding the enemy ships. On a submarine two HE torpedoes are launched towards a Battleship.

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
CARPATHIAN MOUNTAINS
KURVI-TASCHE

The underground room was massive and blindingly bright. As long as three American football fields and twice as wide, its occupants were a milling mass of ants, some in suits or military dress uniforms, some in foreign uniforms and cummerbunds. All 1,200 handpicked core survivors from all around the surviving remnants of Kurvi-Tasche and their families huddled around the banquettes and white silky tables, speaking in hushed voices, drinks in hand. Behind the grand, gilded stage at the head of the tables, the first butlers and liveried waiters waltzed out, delicate silvered platters of fish roe, peppered carp, and goulach rouge balanced on their gloved hands. In the command/viewing centre in the room, three stories above the crowd, the Marshal conversed with his General Staff, the Acrenian attache, and Abbas Shirazi, who was rather shaken.

Sitting at the head of the dark ebony conference table, the Marshal stood up. Immediately, the entire table was quiet as everyone leapt up out of their chairs, their backs ramrod-straight as they saluted their leader. Well, not the entire table. Ambassador-or the late Ambassador Shirazi pushed back his chair slowly and barely stood, with his legs about to give way in fright.

The Marshal languidly waved his hand for everybody to sit down. 'Amaih, my trusted friends and colleagues! Before we get down to business, we have a few things in order. I trust that everyone is well fed and has had his thirst slaked?' The entire room shook with the noise of thousands of medals jingling around vigorously up and down. 'Good. Now, let us deal with the matter of my moustache. Recently, as you all know very well, there have been multiple attempts on my mustache's life. I've seen that such attempts have increased exponentially with the Hungarian uprising, the Mersidonian invasion, and, most alarmingly, with the collapse of the Suryakese Empire.'
'It would appear that such events are going to, sooner than later, shatter what little haven we autocrats hold dear, along with our freedoms, our homelands, and our current privileges. So, I have prepared an emergency plan which none of you have been privy to before. I will put it bluntly. Kurvi-Tasche will fall. When it will fall could vary. It could collapse in a few days; this nation could go to the grave after a few years. But what I am saying, is that we have no more control over the populace. They have smelt blood, and they want ours. The nascent Hungarian and Romanian nationalists are now mainstream, no longer repressed cells of people scattered around the globe. The wave of Suryakese refugees from Bulgaria and Yugoslavia, both Slavic nations, have upset the delicate ethnic and socioeconomic fabric holding this Frankenstein of a country together. Now, our armies are overstretched and sometimes even lack rifles to give to their men. Our air force has been de facto eliminated due to the international embargo on us and due to the Mersidonians taking aerial superiority over our nation. And, of course, our navy and merchant marine are no more, having been wiped from the seas, with no safe harbor to turn to. We've lost one of our greatest (albeit most fickle) allies and protectors in the world, whilst our only other friend, South Acren, seems set on a course of self-destruction.'
The South Acrenian attache, a brigadier, opened his mouth to protest quite vigorously.
'I understand your outrage, Herr ____, but is it not the truth? Is it not true that your country will be screwed over in but a few months? With the Mersidonians, Draosians, Rakdaics, and the Oppermenians knocking on your door? With a weaponized smallpox virus stalking your nation from Los Angeles to Miami? Tell me, Brigadier, why do you think that YOUR OWN LEADER told ME that you guys would be utterly slaughtered down to the last man, woman, and child? WHY SHOULD WE BELIEVE THAT YOU WILL STILL BE AROUND IN TWO WEEKS?!?!?'
The Marshal was breathing heavily and foaming at the mouth. He then sat down. After a few moments of utter silence, he motioned to his bodyguards at the blast door. 'Take him away.' The attache was dragged out of his chair, down the hallway leading to the outside to a knoll of pine trees, and shot point-blank with an AK-47.

'Will that be all?' the Marshal wheezed. The table cowered in sheer terror. The Ambassador, an elderly, respectable man, raised his hand. 'Before I die, God-Emperor Marshal, may I caress your heavenly mustache, which has no equals anywhere and is the greatest thing of all time?'
'Indeed you may. We won't kill you now, but no promises if you speak up.'
Walking slowly over to the great, egotistical man, the Ambassador steeled himself for the task that he would have to do to save the world. As he touched the first midnight black and silky hair, he fell into a trance.
It was all over in a flash.
Within a moment of first contact, the Ambassador brought out a hidden razor from his coat sleeve and swiped viciously. Once, upwards. The guards and the staff attempted to restrain him, but it was too late.

The Marshal's mustache was no more. It lay slain on the ground, and with it, the possibility of Kurvi-Tasche as a viable nation-state.

Before he was dragged out to the knoll to be shot like the attache, Shirazi was permitted five minutes of reflection with an imam and a radio for company.

"BREAKING NEWS!
Reports are coming in of mass, ethnically-driven defections from the Taschist Army. After an unknown event happened to the Marshal pertaining to his mustache, we are told, the nation has inexpicably shattered. The emergency services are in chaos over infighting and defections, and it would seem an ethnic genocide is brewing. Already, we are getting reports from a source within the Mersidonian General Staff that a massive Romanian mob in the Dobruja was spotted lynching local ethnic Bulgarians, Turks, and Muslims. They were dispersed with live fire, but not before 55 people lay dead. Military police caught most of the perpetrators. They will swing from the Constanta yardarm at dawn tomorrow. In addition, the former Suryakese Emperor, Batu Khan, was assassinated by a Serbian anarchist team called the "White Eagles" in Budapest as massive riots and anti-loyalist pogroms spread throughout the city. Most of Bucharest has been razed to the ground, apparently by a fleet of strategic bombers from anarchist Bulgaria, and a Dyllonic MOAB missile has hit the only known Taschist command bunker, obliterating it. The Royal Hungarian Honved, or Army, has apparently seized all of former Hungary, the Vojvodina, and parts of Transylvania, whilst a massive Communist Romanian revolution has overwhelmed the Taschist Army and has destroyed the crucial oil-producing centre of Ploiesti. We leave you with a final audio communique from the Marshal's General Staff:
'Today is the day that Kurvi-Tasche will fall. The Persian Ambassador fell into our care after the rebel takeover of Budapest, and violated his most sacred code of diplomatic conduct and assaulted his host. Although he was gunned down for this most heinous act, he did shear off the Marshal's enchanting mustache. As such, the country is now in tatters. Only a core guards regiment and some designated survivors remain loyal to the Marshal, and are currently in hiding. We have relinquished control over our former domain to the Kingdom of Hungary and the Romanian People's Republic. The final act of state that the Socialist Republic shall carry out shall be the state burial of the Marshal's mustache; as such, he requests that the people observe a ceasefire during the duration of the funeral, to be held at an undisclosed location. We hoped for victory, but we fell with defeat, as the Mersidonians would say.
Amaih Kurvi-Tasche!
God save his soul!
God save his mustache!
Goodbye, and goodnight for the final time.
-The General Staff'
"Farewell to a nation, which, although autocratic, belligerent, and fascist, was one of the biggest influences on the world stage.
This is OBC News, direct from Oppermanson City. Goodnight."

[Mersdon]

Istanbul is retaken from the anarchists and eventually Thrace is cleansed of them. The anarchists are no longer a threat.

While the city was damaged, it was not damaged as much as expected. In a state of lawlessness, most people tend to stay together and defend themselves rather than commit crime. The Shah takes part in an effort to rebuild Istanbul.

OOC: Suryak allowed me to do this.

---

In New Parsa City, Shahpur Daryoush meets with one of the Mersdonian diplomats. He explains that while the Shah, Shahbanu, and Shahpur have absolute control over Persia, they do not have absolute control over Turkey, for while the Shah controls Turkey as its ruler, some powers are devolved to the regional democratic Turkish government based in Istanbul. In order to make a deal on the Turkish Straits, the diplomat will have to meet with the Shah, the President of Turkey (who also happens to be the Shahbanu), and the Grand National Assembly of Turkey in Istanbul since it involves Turkey. The Shahpur lets the diplomat know that since this is urgent business, a plane is already ready to fly to Istanbul and the GNA is about to convene for it.

The emissary, the Empress, smiles gratefully. "Thank you so very much! This is a very urgent matter for both of us, and I'm glad that you are quite understanding of this. We will need a military presence, however small, in the Black Sea, but we have little need for a war whilst we fight off the fascist threat. I am willing to explain myself in front of the Turkish GNA and the President, and I thank you for this chance. I trust your Shah is fine with this?"

[Mersdon]

OOC: What is Benedict-on-Sea and where in Mersdon is it?

OOC: I had planned it to be either Vancouver, Canada or Amsterdam, but since I don't own them, it is on the site of present-day Tokyo.

[Dyllonia]

General Herbert von Berbert arrives with the Imperium Legion on Canada. They immediately go to reinforce the Canadian border to meet up with the Oppermenians.

MEANWHILE IN DYLLONGRAD
Csaszar Rolo lays in bed, clutching the dagger beneath his pillows. His recent insomnia has driven the Emperor mad! He begins to finally drift asleep, but is met with yet another night terror.

South Acrenese tanks and infantry march into Dyllongrad. The new flag of South Acren waves as lines crush the Dyllonic resistance forces. He watches as citizens are butchered on the streets, and above the city, is South Acrens dreaded blue laser. The most damnable, demonized, and hated object in Dyllonia. The streets of Dyllonia suddenly twist and turn, and Rolo finds himself in Kavatch. He lets out a scream before the laser slams down in the city.

Rolo expected to be dead, but found himself amongst the ruin of the city, burried in rubble from fallen buildings covers him, he pushes the stones off his body. A figure walks over to him in the aftermath. As the man gets closer, his face reveals to be President MacArthur! "Wake up," he tells Rolo, "Wake up! WAKE UP!"

Rolo wakes up, shivering as he recollects what had just happened.

[Mersdon]

The Imperial Fifth Army, having received reports of the collapse of Kurvi-Tasche, wired the Minister of Defence to ask what should be done about the situation. After receiving a communique that requested the General in charge to move his forces inland, at 0300 the 3rd and 7th Motorized Infantry Divisions kitted out in full battledress began moving towards Bucharest. Although they were only followed by half of the army (the other half was to garrison the coast), the motorized columns made good progress, arriving in Bucharest in just four hours.

The city was pure ruin. The Palace of Justice lay wrecked, its white marble scorched and carbonized. The asphalt was lumped up and flipped like a melting black rug, still bubbling with heat. The cars lay as blackened wrecks, still fresh with the smell of burnt flesh and vaporized metal. Half of the houses and apartment buildings were shattered and flattened, flush with the ground, and filling up most of the city's craters with melting cement and oxidizing copper beams.

It was this scene that the motorized divisions entered to. Immediately, they put on their hazmat suits and began doing a sweep of the city. First, they started at the international airport, moving progressively south, halting at the Palace of Justice. There, they sent off a detachment to secure the oil fires at the nearby Ploiesti refinery.

Among the camp in the ruins were a 300-strong press contingent. 'God. This is an environmental disaster.' thought the newly benighted Sir Liam Steele. A grizzled reporter, he had brought the truth back from places as far-flung as Hanoi, Amsterdam, Brisbane, and Manaus. 'My Geiger counters were reading 100 millisieverts a few moments ago, when we took a trip down to the Bucharest Metro. What happened here?' The level of radiation was rather normal where he was, but a few hundred meters away, it was off the charts. 'It would seem that we are on the outskirts of a nuclear blast,' he mused. A few miles away, the General was thinking the same thing. He quickly sent off a telegram alerting the Imperial Government to the nuclear holocaust in the city, and then prepared to evacuate the place. 'What a godforsaken city,' he thought. 'Since Bucharest doesn't exist for any practical purpose or meaning now, there's little use for a Romanian nation.'

[Persia-Kebabistan]

Rommel sends a message to the leader of Kurvi-Tasche.
"Thank you for your support, however I fear this will be the end of South Acren. I recommend that you leave this war before it destroys you. This war will only result with death so please save your soldiers from the slaughter"
Meanwhile the SAN Fleets meet the fleet sent by Mersdon and start bombarding the enemy ships. On a submarine two HE torpedoes are launched towards a Battleship.

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
CARPATHIAN MOUNTAINS
KURVI-TASCHE

The underground room was massive and blindingly bright. As long as three American football fields and twice as wide, its occupants were a milling mass of ants, some in suits or military dress uniforms, some in foreign uniforms and cummerbunds. All 1,200 handpicked core survivors from all around the surviving remnants of Kurvi-Tasche and their families huddled around the banquettes and white silky tables, speaking in hushed voices, drinks in hand. Behind the grand, gilded stage at the head of the tables, the first butlers and liveried waiters waltzed out, delicate silvered platters of fish roe, peppered carp, and goulach rouge balanced on their gloved hands. In the command/viewing centre in the room, three stories above the crowd, the Marshal conversed with his General Staff, the Acrenian attache, and Abbas Shirazi, who was rather shaken.

Sitting at the head of the dark ebony conference table, the Marshal stood up. Immediately, the entire table was quiet as everyone leapt up out of their chairs, their backs ramrod-straight as they saluted their leader. Well, not the entire table. Ambassador-or the late Ambassador Shirazi pushed back his chair slowly and barely stood, with his legs about to give way in fright.

The Marshal languidly waved his hand for everybody to sit down. 'Amaih, my trusted friends and colleagues! Before we get down to business, we have a few things in order. I trust that everyone is well fed and has had his thirst slaked?' The entire room shook with the noise of thousands of medals jingling around vigorously up and down. 'Good. Now, let us deal with the matter of my moustache. Recently, as you all know very well, there have been multiple attempts on my mustache's life. I've seen that such attempts have increased exponentially with the Hungarian uprising, the Mersidonian invasion, and, most alarmingly, with the collapse of the Suryakese Empire.'
'It would appear that such events are going to, sooner than later, shatter what little haven we autocrats hold dear, along with our freedoms, our homelands, and our current privileges. So, I have prepared an emergency plan which none of you have been privy to before. I will put it bluntly. Kurvi-Tasche will fall. When it will fall could vary. It could collapse in a few days; this nation could go to the grave after a few years. But what I am saying, is that we have no more control over the populace. They have smelt blood, and they want ours. The nascent Hungarian and Romanian nationalists are now mainstream, no longer repressed cells of people scattered around the globe. The wave of Suryakese refugees from Bulgaria and Yugoslavia, both Slavic nations, have upset the delicate ethnic and socioeconomic fabric holding this Frankenstein of a country together. Now, our armies are overstretched and sometimes even lack rifles to give to their men. Our air force has been de facto eliminated due to the international embargo on us and due to the Mersidonians taking aerial superiority over our nation. And, of course, our navy and merchant marine are no more, having been wiped from the seas, with no safe harbor to turn to. We've lost one of our greatest (albeit most fickle) allies and protectors in the world, whilst our only other friend, South Acren, seems set on a course of self-destruction.'
The South Acrenian attache, a brigadier, opened his mouth to protest quite vigorously.
'I understand your outrage, Herr ____, but is it not the truth? Is it not true that your country will be screwed over in but a few months? With the Mersidonians, Draosians, Rakdaics, and the Oppermenians knocking on your door? With a weaponized smallpox virus stalking your nation from Los Angeles to Miami? Tell me, Brigadier, why do you think that YOUR OWN LEADER told ME that you guys would be utterly slaughtered down to the last man, woman, and child? WHY SHOULD WE BELIEVE THAT YOU WILL STILL BE AROUND IN TWO WEEKS?!?!?'
The Marshal was breathing heavily and foaming at the mouth. He then sat down. After a few moments of utter silence, he motioned to his bodyguards at the blast door. 'Take him away.' The attache was dragged out of his chair, down the hallway leading to the outside to a knoll of pine trees, and shot point-blank with an AK-47.

'Will that be all?' the Marshal wheezed. The table cowered in sheer terror. The Ambassador, an elderly, respectable man, raised his hand. 'Before I die, God-Emperor Marshal, may I caress your heavenly mustache, which has no equals anywhere and is the greatest thing of all time?'
'Indeed you may. We won't kill you now, but no promises if you speak up.'
Walking slowly over to the great, egotistical man, the Ambassador steeled himself for the task that he would have to do to save the world. As he touched the first midnight black and silky hair, he fell into a trance.
It was all over in a flash.
Within a moment of first contact, the Ambassador brought out a hidden razor from his coat sleeve and swiped viciously. Once, upwards. The guards and the staff attempted to restrain him, but it was too late.

The Marshal's mustache was no more. It lay slain on the ground, and with it, the possibility of Kurvi-Tasche as a viable nation-state.

Before he was dragged out to the knoll to be shot like the attache, Shirazi was permitted five minutes of reflection with an imam and a radio for company.

"BREAKING NEWS!
Reports are coming in of mass, ethnically-driven defections from the Taschist Army. After an unknown event happened to the Marshal pertaining to his mustache, we are told, the nation has inexpicably shattered. The emergency services are in chaos over infighting and defections, and it would seem an ethnic genocide is brewing. Already, we are getting reports from a source within the Mersidonian General Staff that a massive Romanian mob in the Dobruja was spotted lynching local ethnic Bulgarians, Turks, and Muslims. They were dispersed with live fire, but not before 55 people lay dead. Military police caught most of the perpetrators. They will swing from the Constanta yardarm at dawn tomorrow. In addition, the former Suryakese Emperor, Batu Khan, was assassinated by a Serbian anarchist team called the "White Eagles" in Budapest as massive riots and anti-loyalist pogroms spread throughout the city. Most of Bucharest has been razed to the ground, apparently by a fleet of strategic bombers from anarchist Bulgaria, and a Dyllonic MOAB missile has hit the only known Taschist command bunker, obliterating it. The Royal Hungarian Honved, or Army, has apparently seized all of former Hungary, the Vojvodina, and parts of Transylvania, whilst a massive Communist Romanian revolution has overwhelmed the Taschist Army and has destroyed the crucial oil-producing centre of Ploiesti. We leave you with a final audio communique from the Marshal's General Staff:
'Today is the day that Kurvi-Tasche will fall. The Persian Ambassador fell into our care after the rebel takeover of Budapest, and violated his most sacred code of diplomatic conduct and assaulted his host. Although he was gunned down for this most heinous act, he did shear off the Marshal's enchanting mustache. As such, the country is now in tatters. Only a core guards regiment and some designated survivors remain loyal to the Marshal, and are currently in hiding. We have relinquished control over our former domain to the Kingdom of Hungary and the Romanian People's Republic. The final act of state that the Socialist Republic shall carry out shall be the state burial of the Marshal's mustache; as such, he requests that the people observe a ceasefire during the duration of the funeral, to be held at an undisclosed location. We hoped for victory, but we fell with defeat, as the Mersidonians would say.
Amaih Kurvi-Tasche!
God save his soul!
God save his mustache!
Goodbye, and goodnight for the final time.
-The General Staff'
"Farewell to a nation, which, although autocratic, belligerent, and fascist, was one of the biggest influences on the world stage.
This is OBC News, direct from Oppermanson City. Goodnight."

OOC: I really like this storyline! It manages to be serious and comedic at the same time.

IC: A while ago, when the Royal Hungarians set fire to the Parliament, a Persian plane was sent to rescue Ambassador Shirazi. However, when they got there, Shirazi was presumed dead because the Parliament was on fire, it was taken over by Royal Hungarians, and they could not find him. Because of this, a funeral was planned for him, and said funeral happened today.

After Shirazi's funeral, Shahpur Daryoush's long-time friend, Ahmad Durrani, alerted the Shahpur of Shirazi's actual status. He showed the Shahpur the OBC broadcast and explained that "Shirazi was rescued by the Marshal so he was in fact alive when the funeral started. However, he shaved off the Marshal's mustache at the right time so that when he was executed, the funeral was just about to end. So there is no need to worry about wasted funeral funds, the funeral was just held a bit too early."

The Shahpur is surprised at this news. "This is terrible!" he exclaims. "He ruined our relations with another country and got himself killed in the process! Other countries will trust us less because of this! He did not even need to do that, for Kurvi-Tasche was going to collapse anyway. If Kurvi-Tasche did not collapse, we would have been engulfed into a war. But the blame should also go on Kurvi-Tasche. Why would that crazed Marshal execute our ambassador over a MUSTACHE?! If he were not already defeated, we would have given him a taste of his own medicine. I will not tolerate our countrymen getting killed. Honestly, I am glad that nation is gone so we do not have to deal with its tyranny."

The Shahpur realizes that it will be bad if someone finds out about this dialogue, so he requests Ahmad to not tell anybody about what he said. He plans to address Shirazi's death soon.

[Kurvi-Tasche]

OOC: Thank you Persia! I tried to strike that balance. I'm glad that it entertained you. On a side note, my idea was that the Marshal's mustache was the only thing holding the Balkans together, so Shirazi did the world a public service. It depends on who you ask, due to the anarchy created by my collapse
IC: After the Ambassador was executed in the forest, the last official victim of the Taschist regime, the Marshal phoned the Turkish President in Istanbul. Over a secure landline, he requested that the President, the Shah, and General Kemal be alerted to the finding of the Ambassador's body on the outskirts of Budapest by a Taschist armored company. After arranging for the Ambassador's repatriation with full military honors from neutral Vienna Airport, he went into his war room and ordered the Intelligence chief to jam all telecommunications signals. 15 minutes later, the Marshal's A380 and an escort of six MiG-29 fighter jets lay on the tarmac. For the final time, the Marshal and his small, loyal entourage looked back at the complex where they had spent so much of their lives, working for the country that was falling apart under their feet. The 'survivors' were still wining and dining under the ground. After all of the people, their weapons, five gold-plated Rolls-Royces and 15 billion N$ were loaded onto the waiting jetliner, three of the MiGs took off in a gentle arc from the hidden airfield, followed by the A380 and the remaining three fighters. As soon as they were 15 kilometers away from the bunker, the Marshal whispered to his chief of staff, "Activate Operation Shears". The colonel pressed a button on his receiver set.
Nothing happened.
He tried again.
Nothing happened.
The Colonel jammed his finger into the receiver, over and over again, but did not get a response.
The Marshal grabbed the receiver set and put his fingerprints onto a scanner. He had activated the override. Afterwards, a panel opened up, transparent like glass. As soon as the AI caught sight of the Marshal's face, the entire set folded up without a single catalyst.
The Colonel finally spoke, 50 km from the airfield. "God-emperor Trump Kurvi-Tasch, it won't activate due to your glorious facial hair being temporarily absent! And since you ordered all telecoms to be jammed indefinitely, it still wouldn't work!"
The Marshal harrumphed. "Shut up, you twit! It would seem that the first victim of my regime-in-exile would be my own stupidity."
Three hours later, however, the first Oppermenian advance elements reached the airfield. It is not known what happened to the bunker complex's inhabitants.
But what we do know is that somewhere, the Marshal is scheming, plotting, and waiting for his mustache to grow back...

[Persia-Kebabistan]

Istanbul is retaken from the anarchists and eventually Thrace is cleansed of them. The anarchists are no longer a threat.

While the city was damaged, it was not damaged as much as expected. In a state of lawlessness, most people tend to stay together and defend themselves rather than commit crime. The Shah takes part in an effort to rebuild Istanbul.

OOC: Suryak allowed me to do this.

---

In New Parsa City, Shahpur Daryoush meets with one of the Mersdonian diplomats. He explains that while the Shah, Shahbanu, and Shahpur have absolute control over Persia, they do not have absolute control over Turkey, for while the Shah controls Turkey as its ruler, some powers are devolved to the regional democratic Turkish government based in Istanbul. In order to make a deal on the Turkish Straits, the diplomat will have to meet with the Shah, the President of Turkey (who also happens to be the Shahbanu), and the Grand National Assembly of Turkey in Istanbul since it involves Turkey. The Shahpur lets the diplomat know that since this is urgent business, a plane is already ready to fly to Istanbul and the GNA is about to convene for it.

The emissary, the Empress, smiles gratefully. "Thank you so very much! This is a very urgent matter for both of us, and I'm glad that you are quite understanding of this. We will need a military presence, however small, in the Black Sea, but we have little need for a war whilst we fight off the fascist threat. I am willing to explain myself in front of the Turkish GNA and the President, and I thank you for this chance. I trust your Shah is fine with this?"

"You can discuss the Black Sea military presence and anything related to this issue with the men and women in Istanbul. I notified everyone and they are all fine with this. I have organized a plane to get you there and guards to safely bring you to the GNA, for most Persians are hostile to Mersdon."

[Persia-Kebabistan]

The Shahpur signs a new act saying that from now on, both the Shah and the Shahbanu will have equal power. While this has been the case for the past two years, it was never an official law until now.

Since the Shah and Shahbanu are in Turkey, the Shahpur will rule Persia for them until they come back.

[Persia-Kebabistan]

OOC: I will be busy due to school so my responding times will be slow. However, I am not pulling out.

[South Raznakova]

OOC: Can someone give me a brief summary of what has happened while I was away?

[Oppermenia]

OOC: Can someone give me a brief summary of what has happened while I was away?

Ooc: Too much happened while you were away
When I get the time I’ll try to fill you in

[South Raznakova]

OOC: Cause then it will be easier for me to jump back in.

[Persia-Kebabistan]

This is a post of mine that says what happened between page ~60 and page 86: https://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=447044&p=34462971#p34462971

[South Raznakova]

OOC: Thanks

[Persia-Kebabistan]

OOC: Thanks

OOC: You're welcome!

Which countries do you own?

[Oppermenia]

OOC: Thanks

OOC: You're welcome!

Which countries do you own?

Ooc: He owns most of Russia and I think a portion of Asia I don’t remember exactly which ones

[South Raznakova]

After recent events that have taken place, Admiral Vodovenko makes a public announcement.

"After recent events, I have decided that our great communist state requires even more security. To ensure this, I have established the Ministry of National Defence. This military organization, along with the reserve forces, will be responsible for ensuring the security of our great communist state. They, along with the SPP, MFI, BPS and the military reserves, will be responsible for protecting our great nation. With the help of these brave men and women, we will, once and for all, ensure the security of South Raznakova. I would also like to call upon the leader of Persia-Kebabistan, to come to South Raznakova to discuss a trade agreement."

With this said, Admiral Vodovenko leaves the podium.

OOC: I have all of Russia, part of China, the UAE and the ivory coast.

[Dyllonia]

Csaszar Rolo sends a diplomat to South Raznokova to serve as an ambassador to Admiral Vodovenko.

[Persia-Kebabistan]

The Shah decides to go back to New Parsa City instead of participating in the talks with Mersdon. Since the President of Turkey is the Shahbanu, who has equal power with the Shah, it is not necessary to talk to the Shah, as long as the Mersdonian Empress can talk to the Shahbanu/President of Turkey and the GNA. The talks will still happen, but it is not necessary for the Shah to come, since the Shahbanu will talk with Mersdon. He is very happy upon landing back in New Parsa City, for he was away from it for a long time and really missed it.

After recent events that have taken place, Admiral Vodovenko makes a public announcement.

"After recent events, I have decided that our great communist state requires even more security. To ensure this, I have established the Ministry of National Defence. This military organization, along with the reserve forces, will be responsible for ensuring the security of our great communist state. They, along with the SPP, MFI, BPS and the military reserves, will be responsible for protecting our great nation. With the help of these brave men and women, we will, once and for all, ensure the security of South Raznakova. I would also like to call upon the leader of Persia-Kebabistan, to come to South Raznakova to discuss a trade agreement."

With this said, Admiral Vodovenko leaves the podium.

OOC: I have all of Russia, part of China, the UAE and the ivory coast.

The Shah becomes very worried, for a part of South Raznakova is the UAE, which is in the Persian Gulf. This means that Persia, which once held de facto control of the Persian Gulf, could lose its control over the Persian Gulf to South Raznakova. The Shahpur accepts the meeting with South Raznakova, because he is the lead ambassador of Persia and he could advocate for Persia's interests in the Persian Gulf. He asks what the meeting is about, when it will happen, where it will happen, and why they want a meeting. The Shah stays in New Parsa City to rule the country while the Shahbanu waits for the Mersdonian Empress in Istanbul.

[Persia-Kebabistan]

For now, the Shah decides to have a neutral but cautious foreign policy towards South Raznakova.

[Persia-Kebabistan]

OOC: When will the next round of colonization start?

[South Raznakova]

Admiral Vodvenko sends a message to Persia-Kebabistan, telling them the meeting will be about a trade agreement. It will take place in the capital of South Raznakova, Vodovenko. The meeting will take place tomorrow.

OOC: I am not sure. Also, the meeting could take place at around 11am EST.

[South Raznakova]

OOC: Or right now. Whatever suits you.

[Persia-Kebabistan]

I would prefer to do it on Saturday as I will not have school. I also prefer not to have a defined time because my posting pattern is very eratic and I do not get on the computer much. If we are not online at the same time, we could still RP by making posts and waiting for a response.