X Winter Olympics RP Thread

[Transalpine Republic]

This section comes immediately after the section I posted yesterday.

Tajer was intrigued by this new twist in fate. His debt problems might all be solved. Mansa Musa was going to be his savior, he thought. Maybe his prayers had been answered! He made his way to the town crier, pushing his way through startled crowds and earning the ungrateful stares of those in his way. “I volunteer!” he cried. “I volunteer!”
The town crier raised his eyebrows, wondering why this foolish trader was making a scene. “Do I look like the recruiting agent to you, young man?” he said sternly. “Go to the palace and you will find him there. “ He rolled his eyes. Gusto was not a favorite quality in Timbuktu, although it might serve you well in service to the Emperor.
Tajer hurried through the crowds, but this time, they parted. Why did the town crier incident pass through the town so quickly?, he wondered. Maybe he was crying, pitying himself about the rash and arrogant trader. What a fitting activity for the crier.
The palace was a magnificent structure, even greater than the famed Grand Mosque of Djenne, in all of its stature. Even greater than the Sankore Mosque, here in Timbuktu, with its spiral minaret and its magnificent library. It towered over the Timbuktu cityscape like the Sears Tower towers over Chicago. It made Timbuktu the way it is.
The royal palace, or Madugu, had magnificent marble columns, its facade plated with blue turquoise friezes and strips of gold. Paintings glorifying the emperor were inlaid with the finest ivory and gold. Sudano-Sahelian architecture was clearly prevalent here, with the main body made out of sun-dried mud bricks and adobe. Wooden support beams imported all the way from Lebanon’s majestic cedar forests dotted the surface. A gold-plated dome crowned the structure. The finest of Mali went into building this structure. Only the palace of Allah in Heaven could match it.
Tajer took a deep breath and collected his wobbling personality. He slowly ascended the staircase, his leather shoes clacking on the polished staircase. He stopped and took another breath. The heavy carved wooden door was squarely in his vision.
The inside was even more spectacular than on the outside. Magnificent tempera paintings of Allah endowing his grace upon Mali lined the inside of the magnificent dome. Cool and airy, the inside made him feel like he was in Allah’s palace.
The steward, looking up from his seeming endless scribble on a piece of parchment, wondered why he was at the most glorious palace of Mansa Musa.
“How may I help you, young man?”
“I would like to see the recruiting officer for Mansa Musa’s pilgrimage to Mecca.” The steward had a rat-like face, with a pointed nose and sunken eyes. Whiskers protruded from his face, and a scruffy beard covered the lower portion of his chin.
“Why, certainly. He is in Office 12B, along Corridor 7,” the steward replied in a weaselly and quiet voice, barely discernable against all the noise and clatter. He did not look up from his parchment and instead kept scribbling, his quill pen scratching against the paper.
“Thank you.”
Only a grunt escaped him in return.


The polished brick floors of Corridor 7 were a shade of light brown. Not very exciting, Tajer thought. At least it was better than dirt. Paintings by some of Mali’s finest artists lined the walls. No artwork of human figures was there, due to a itsy bitsy little part of Islamic law. Instead, magnificent black calligraphy adorned the wall instead.
His tip-tap reverberated through the hall, and he heard the angry shouts of some clerks. He waved them off, not about to let some petty disturbance tip him off. Tiptoeing down the hallway, he looked at the signs on the doors. A good ways down the hallway that never seemed to end was room 12B. The door was open, and Tajer tiptoed in.
A voice coming from inside the door startled him. “Good morning, sir. I take it that you want to sign up for the pilgrimage to Mecca, “ a voice boomed inside. “Yes, sir,” Tajer managed to squeak, too scared to say anything else. Clearly sensing his thoughts, the voice said “Come on, it’s alright to come in. “
Quivering with fear like trembles after an earthquake, he was scared to enter. “Come on, we don’t have all day!” the voice shouted, clearly angry. Tajer shuddered on last time, took a deep breath, and timidly took a step in.

The expression on Tajer’s face resembled shock more than surprise when he entered the quiet and unassuming office. What was only supposed to be a recruiting agent was none other than the most exalted and revered figure in all of Mali, second only to Allah. The emperor, Mansa Musa, was sitting in that leather and wood chair, looking placid and calm.
Tajer felt his knees bowing to the pressure too great to bear. He quickly said, “Your Majesty...”
“Come on, come on, there’s no need to bow and scrape.”
“But, Your Majesty-”
“Get up, get up.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Now I suppose you would like to join my expedition to Mecca?”
“Yes, sire, I heard the town crier.”
“OK. Now you just need to fill out this form and answer some questions...” the emperor said. “Blah, blah, blah, technical nonsense, yahdy yahdy yahdy, so on and so on...” “Are you a devout Muslim? “
“Yes. I pray every day. “
“Are you willing to act in your best behavior? “
“Yes, sire.”
“What is your job?
“I am a trader, sire. Very skilled with camels and caravans. “
“Are you in debt?”
“Yes, sire,” Tajer said, wondering when a respite from questioning would come.
“Then I’m afraid that you will not be able to come to Mecca with me. However, we can-”
Tajer let out a startled gasp. “After all my hopes and dreams, my stinking debt and pesky raiders that cannot go away when you swat at them like flies are denying me the opportunity to go to the holiest of cities and fulfill my religious obligations and have repentance for my sins? “
“You interrupted me too soon. I was going to say something-”
“Sorry, your majesty.”
“There it is again.
“Sorry again, your majesty. “
“The solution to your problem is-”
“What is it!? What is it!?” Tajer exclaimed, excited as a child on Christmas Day.
“You interrupt me one more time and you definitely won’t be going to Mecca,” the Emperor growled through gritted teeth.
“Of course, your majesty,” Tajer wailed. “It will never happen again.”
“I would love to get you out of debt, and besides, I need people skilled with the handling of camels and caravans. Now how much is this debt? “
Tajer almost shouted out “Yippee!” but he didn’t. He squirmed around in his chair, looking for the right figure. “That would be... 290,480 dinars“ he gasped.
Mansa Musa cringed, unwilling to bear the thought of how much the services of this trader would cost him. “Almost three hundred thousand dinars! You must have gotten into a lot of trouble in order to get that much debt! I barely pay a guard forty thousand dinars in a whole year!”
“Well, your guards don’t have to endure drought and death of camels, petty robbers stealing from your storehouses, and bandits stealing from your caravans!” Tajer spieled. “All of these factors, just plain bad luck, made me have to go into debt to go from Taoudenni and back!”
“Well, Mr. al’Enbeyl, it’s not like you just borrowed from the moneylender so you could enjoy a night of revelry and not worry about the aftereffects...”
“No, sire, it is not. “
“I’ll make a decision on your case tomorrow, although I might not want your bad luck on my expedition...”
Tajer cursed under his breath.
“Thank you for coming, and I will send a messenger to your house with my offer.”
Tajer politely bowed and left the office, sending the door swinging.


Tajer felt like the itsy bitsy spider had fallen into his stomach and was eating it and butterflies were having a circus in his body. He felt queasy like someone about to get their test back. But this wasn’t as important as a test. It was more important than that.
It was Tajer’s life at stake. His life among civilized men. In the midst of his despair, he refused to give up hope that he might go to Mecca and pray to the lord. His life would not be complete without a trip to Mecca.

“Anyone with the name of Tajer al’Enbeyl? Anyone?” the messenger said as he walked through the mud brick apartment complex where Tajer lived. People shook their heads and some swapped excited rumors trying to tell why this mysterious messenger himself had come.
Some of the rumors were false, some were true. The most accurate rumor, told by the cousin of a squire of a camel archer who knew a courtier who knew somebody whose cousin was a server for a noble who was in Mansa Musa’s court, said that the messenger was going to appoint this Tajer character to an important position. Those who didn’t believe this rumor shook their heads.
“You’re going to have no luck on this floor,” someone called out. ‘Yeah, he’s two floors up!” someone added. “Alright, people, go about your normal business,” the messenger said. He quickly ascended the two flights of stairs (elevators hadn’t been seen in Mali yet), and started calling out his summons again.

A loud knock at Tajer’s door startled his reading. He scurried to the entrance of his apartment and unlatched the metal bar that held the door shut.
“Welcome to my humble abode. How may I help you?” Tajer said.
“I am looking for a person named Tajer al’Enbeyl. Does he reside in this apartment?”
Tajer was almost tempted to say, “No, he lives next door,” afraid that he was to be punished. But he didn’t: instead, he answered truthfully. “Yes, I am he.”
“Mansa Musa has told me to convey his offer to you, as he is too busy to tell you himself. He has proposed several things, the most important of which I will tell you first. One, he will pay you 290,480 dinars, all of which will go toward your debt. He will then pay you 14,540 dinars each month for your services as Second Caravan Master.
“Your duties as Second Caravan Master will include the following: one, purchase supplies for the caravan at all stops, choosing which shopkeepers and wholesalers to buy from at your discretion. Depending on the amount and quality of supplies to be purchased, your budget will be between 500,000 dinars and 2,500,000 dinars.
“Two. You will be responsible for the distribution of those supplies that you purchased to the proper quartermasters, and hiring them out of your own payroll if necessary. Three: you will be responsible for the feeding and watering of the camels and the guiding of them. So, what d’ya say about it?”
“It sounds good!” Tajer exclaimed, this time restraining his happiness like a handler failing to hold back a running horse. “When will the duties of this position start? Can I start on them right away?”
“Your duties will start as soon as I convey the word to Mansa Musa. If you would like to begin immediately, I will give you a purse of gold to get started.” The tinkling of the bag in his pocket was now more evident.
“I will start work on this assignment right away. What kind of supplies will be needed?”
“The basics. Water, dates, wheat, food, saddles, camels, whelm jera, whelm jera... ”
Tajer smiled. The messenger creaked the door open and Tajer showed him out.

[Vermark]

The Emergence of a Power
Kristof Elsberg ~ Editorial

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Tonight, Vermark is given a golden opportunity (pun intended) to become a sporting powerhouse. The sport in question is hockey. In the few hockey competitions Vermark has entered, Vermark has been wildly successful. In the World Junior Hockey Championships, Vermark finished as the runner up in its first ever appearance. Now, Vermark's national senior team has a chance to avenge the fallen junior team in the match for the tenth Olympic men's hockey gold medal.

There's been a lot of talk recently in the news about Vermark's aspirations. "Vermark can become the number one this" or "Vermark will be a super-power in that". However, it is all mostly just empty talk. Vermark's shot at become internationally competitive in hockey, however, is a different matter. The Olympic Gold Medal is the second most desired achievement after the World Cup of Hockey. Additionally, the prospect that Vermark captures such a title in its first try is truly remarkable. Also, with the World Cup of Hockey right around the corner, momentum gained by the Vares in the Olympics can carry forward to do some serious damage in the World Cup.

Furthermore, Vermark winning the gold medal won't necessarily be an upset. Varish hockey is hard to play against. Of course, the typical critique of Vares is that they are too small. However, it doesn't matter how small a player is, if he is faster than you, you're likely not going to be able to get a good hit on him. Also, at the end of the game, it is not the number of hits that matters. It is the number of goals. The statistics that correlate with scoring goals look very good for Vermark. Vermark completes 71% of its passes and has the puck in the offensive zone 64% of the time. Defensively, the average total for shots against is only 22 per game. When most goalies are having to save thirty to forty shots a game, a netminder who faces only 22 will likely keep the vast majority of them out of the goal. All of these things boost gals for and keep a limit on goals against. Vermark's style of play is extremely well equipped to be internationally competitive.

"I think we have a very good chance at beating Gregoryisgodistan," explains head coach Henrik Norling. "We've had a great defense, superb netminding, and a stellar forecheck over the past few games so we really ought to be able to be competitive and make the game close. It should be a very exciting contest."

The gold medal match will be aired on VBC at 8 o'clock tonight. Mats Nordskov will be starting in goal as he has had multiple shut-outs over the course of the tournament. Expect the boys to be nervous at first, but adapt to the situation. The end of the first period will likely have Vermark down by a goal, but expect the score at the end of two to be tied. The third period, however, is up for the taking and we might even see some overtime action tonight. Regardless, this is a huge deal for Varish hockey and it will be a great game of hockey.

[Free Republics]

Logo created by Yttribia

It was the final day of the X Winter Olympics and Republica was practically a ghost town. A blizzard had piled several feet of snow on the Holy Republican capital, shutting down virtually everything in the city. Although Consul Kulseth was out of town at the moment, most Assembly members and Senators were in Republica, waiting for the weather to improve to get around to legislative business. Before the blizzard had shut down the elected portions of the government, they had spent the previous few weeks debating the budget for the coming fiscal year. The budget debates were extremely contentious, with the elected representatives of the people and the appointed representatives of the political elites of the various Republics unable to agree on a budget. The Senate was seeking a reduction in the amount of money spent on a number of religious-oriented programs, most notably the abstinence education programs that Consul Kulseth had instituted and for which he had requested a tenfold budgetary increase for the next fiscal year. It was a contentious situation and many observers expected the budget impasse to go on for months before the numerous parties involved finally came to a mutually satisfactory agreement.

Then, the power went out in the district of the city where the legislative buildings were located. With the power out and the streets deserted, nobody saw a number of masked men and women walking around in the political district of the capital, several of whom were carrying snow shovels. Normally, this would have been detected by the numerous security cameras that monitored this area of the city 24-7, but now the security cameras were out in the area. Now, they could carry out the next phase of The Plan, without anybody ever being the wiser...

The masked men finally arrived at the Assembly building, a massive building that had been modeled on an indoor sports arena. The Assembly building was a truly awe-inspiring sight, designed to accommodate every member of a body whose membership numbered in the 5 digits. The Assembly was one of, if not the largest, legislative bodies in the multiverse, as was necessary for a body whose members were proportionally elected by the citizens of the various Republics. Now, it was time to burn the Assembly to the ground, so that the Will of God could be done. One of the men did the honors by ramming the snow shovel into a window, breaking it. Another tossed a Molotov cocktail into the window, igniting the Assembly building. As the building burned, they shoveled snow off of the road, dumping it on the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Then, they spray-painted the road. Soon, the road would be filled with messages such as "Feministvs Lives" and "Down with the Patriarchy" that were clearly designed to make it look like Feministvs Sanctvsterra had burned down the Assembly building.

A few minutes later, they arrived outside of the Senate building, a wooden structure that was over 200 years old. This time, they did not bother using any Molotov cocktails. Instead, one of them took out a lighter, which he had purchased a few weeks prior from a local cannabis shop, and used it to light the Senate building on fire. As the building was burning to the ground, they took the opportunity to remove the snow from the surrounding section of road once again and mark the road with the words "Legion of Lucifer" and a pentagram. Before leaving, one of them decided to add the words "Fuck Kulseth" and "Fuck God" to the graffiti. Then, all of them went their separate ways, to minimize their risk of capture by the police, a capture that would lead to the discovery of their schemes. When they successfully made their getaway, each of them reported to a different Holy Party official that they had been successful. These officials then relayed the news, utilizing a secret code, to a very pleased Consul Reino Kulseth...

---

Meanwhile, in Baseton, the Closing Ceremony of the X Winter Olympics was taking place. Dignitaries from throughout the Empire and the multiverse had converged upon the city of Baseton for the conclusion of a Winter Olympics that had seen much controversy and numerous medal ceremonies involving athletes from the same handful of nations. Yet, for all of the controversy and all of the complaints about the Opening Ceremony from those who were not part of the "True Church" of Iesus Christus, those in attendance at the events and those watching them from around the world had seen many spectacular athletic feats over the past 19 days.

While a lengthy closing ceremony had originally been planned, revolving around the Prophecies contained in the Apocalypsis Ioannis, Senator Izmailov and Consul Kulseth decided to forego that part of the Closing Ceremony, instead choosing to show a video package consisting of highlights of the previous 19 days of competition. While the video package placed undue emphasis on the performances of the Holy Republican medalists and downplayed the performances of medalists from the numerous nations that were either boycotting the Closing Ceremony, permitting their athletes to boycott the Closing Ceremony or otherwise regarded as hostile to the host nation, there were no overt attempts in the video to promote any ideological messages.

After the conclusion of the video package, the medal ceremonies were hold for the events that had concluded on the final day of the Games. It was at this point that Consul Kulseth's other scheme played out. The Consul had decided to, without consulting anybody else, order the man in charge of playing the national anthems for the medal ceremony to play Gregory the Phony God instead of the Gregoryisgodistani National Anthem whenever it was time to give the Gregoryisgodistani her gold medal. Consul Kulseth was hoping to incite an incident of some sort from the Gregoryisgodistani Ice Hockey team, an incident that would help him bring his Plan to fruition.

The only warning that the Consul had provided to the chairman of the Baseton Winter Olympic Organizing Committee (BWOOC) had been a request that Senator Izmailov not hand out medals at the Closing Ceremony. Izmailov, who hated that part of his job to begin with, agreed to watch the Closing Ceremony from Kulseth's skybox, guarded by the Consul's personal bodyguard and a dozen of Izmailov's finest Blueshirts. They watched in safety as events unfolded at the Closing Ceremony. The police and military security were just waiting for a call from Consul Kulseth, who used the threat of a Feministvs Sanctvsterra disruption to get most of them on-call for the Closing Ceremony. By the time any belligerent Gregoryisgodistanis could have found their way anywhere near the Consul, the Olympic Stadium would be filled with troops and riot police.

---

Later on, after everything else was done, Samuel Izmailov came down from the Skybox to give the traditional closing speech. Izmailov, who was now aware of the events in Republica, rushed through his speech as quickly as possible: "I wish to congratulate all of the great athletes who have proven why they are the best in the multiverse over these past few weeks. These Olympics have been one of, if not THE, greatest of all time and I thank everybody who has participated. We believe that we have done an exceptional job all around and that we have done much to promote the Olympic Spirit and values of the Olympic movement over these past few weeks. I now declare the X Olympic Winter Games closed and turn over the floor to Consul Reino Kulseth to speak about an important matter."

Consul Kulseth accepted the microphone from Izmailov and began a lengthy speech by stating, "Today, our Empire has come under attack. It has been brought to my attention that the buildings housing both the Assembly and the Senate were burned down by arsonists earlier tonight. It is time to face the reality that we are under attack from a foes who hate us for our faith and our way of life and are intent on exterminating each and every one of us and destroying every single landmark in our great nation. The evidence which has been gathered strongly indicates that Feministvs Sanctvsterra and the Legion of Lucifer are responsible for these acts of terror that will live in infamy." Kulseth rambled on and on about the evils of those organizations before concluding, "Today, I am calling upon the Assembly and the Senate to pass a piece of legislation called the Emergency Powers Act to grant me the necessary power to govern unilaterally, without any legislative or judicial check on my power, for the duration of the current crisis. While I certainly do not believe that this legislation should be permanent, it is highly irresponsible to maintain checks and balances upon the power of the one man who can provide the kind of decisive leadership that we need if we are to survive as a nation through the current crisis. Some will, undoubtedly, accuse me of plotting to make myself a dictator, but the only thing I care about is getting our nation back on its feet and dealing with the terrorist problem. Once we have defeated terrorism, which should only take a few months at most, I will return all of these powers to the legislature. Finally, I wish to make it clear to everybody listening to my speech that you are either with the Holy Republican Empire or you are with the terrorists! We will not tolerate or recognize neutrality in our war against these demonic forces that have terrorized our capital city on what was supposed to be a day of celebration. Thank you for your cooperation and may God continue to Bless the Holy Republican Empire!"

The usual process of putting out the Olympic torch followed Kulseth's speech as the X Winter Olympics came to their final conclusion...

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Yes, the Closing Ceremony post doubles as the final cutoff of the X Winter Olympics. You will find out soon just whom the last few medalists will be!

OOC: Edited to reflect Day 19 Results