Come and See the Prophet upon the Hill [MT/Diplomatic/Open]

[Vandellia]

The Blessed Dominion of Vandellia is a small, largely agrarian nation governed by a religiously based, illiberal regime organized along theodemocratic principles. It was founded by a religious separatist movement led by Robert Matthews, self-proclaimed prophet and founder of the New Saints Church.

The name “Vandellia” comes from a word in the Old Midsomerean language which means “wanderer,” and was chosen by Matthews to represent his Church’s history of flight from persecution. The New Saints, as followers of Matthews call themselves, relocated several times before settling in the present territory of Vandellia, which was under the jurisdiction of Mareyland at the time of their arrival. The power and influence of the New Saints Church grew until it came into conflict with the Mareyland government, leading to a short conflict that ended with Vandellia achieving independence.

Robert Matthews has governed the country in an officially provisional manner as commanding General of the Hutaree, the militia of the New Saints Church now serving as the armed forces of Vandellia. However, he has now been elected as President of Vandellia by an overwhelming majority. President Matthews has declared that foreign dignitaries and diplomats will be welcome to travel to the Blessed Dominion to attend his inauguration. The announcement ends a period of isolationism that had guided Vandellian foreign affairs since independence.

In addition to the inauguration ceremony, foreign dignitaries will be offered the chance to attend a pre-inauguration reception, where they can meet members of President Matthews’s government, to develop the beginnings of fruitful diplomatic relations. There will also be a military parade prior to President Matthews’s inauguration, and a second reception following the ceremony where the President will make an appearance.

Foreign officials and dignitaries traveling to Vandellia for the inauguration may not bring weapons, and any security details accompanying them must be unobtrusive and obey all directives given to them by Vandellian officials and authorities. Since Vandellia has no seaports, visitors must arrive via air or ground transportation – regardless of method, their destination will be the capital city of New Jerusalem.

OOC: Obviously basic NS Rules apply, this is a diplomatic event not an open challenge, no fighting in the war room, etc. If you want to join, begin by posting your arrival in the capital city by plane, train, or car, and we'll take it from there.

[Vandellia]

The city of New Jerusalem was bustling with activity and anticipation in advance of Robert Matthews's inauguration as President. The outcome of the election had never been in doubt - even if another candidate had chosen to stand for the office, Matthews was the prophet of the New Saints Church and its leader since the church's founding. He had shepherded his growing following through several relocations and a short war, and delivered them to their new Zion. The streets of the capital were draped in bunting and murals of the prophet adorned several walls throughout the city. It was not a metropolis - visitors would see no massive skyscrapers, just row houses, government buildings, and shops. The city was powered by a great hydroelectric dam which had been erected across the nearby Henbane River, which flowed out from the great Lake Soroni. New Jerusalem sat nestled on its banks, with the mighty Temple complex sitting on a bluff overlooking the city.

Within the city itself was the large home where President-elect Matthews and his family had been living. Now it was set to become the Presidential Mansion, and it was full of men and women preparing for the events of the day. The prophet himself was secluded in his quarters, deep in reflection and prayer. His wives - there were six of them now, since his sealing to Isolde Wilmington just a few months ago. The young woman was a fervent believer and still whirling from her sudden transition from recent convert to wife of the Prophet himself. The home was filled with children as well - the prophet was no shirker from his conjugal duties as a husband. Rose Southerly, his fourth wife, was showing the signs of a well-developed pregnancy. The women had been spending all day getting themselves and their children ready.

The Mansion was surrounded by a crowd of New Saints, holding images of the prophet or signs declaring their devotion to the Church. They had been gathered for more than a day now, celebrating their spiritual leader's electoral victory. Sometimes priests would clamber onto overturned boxes or the back of a pickup truck to lead the crowd in hymns or prayers. The city's train station had been deluged by Vandellians coming in from the countryside to witness the inauguration. The mood was festive all over the city - but some observers might notice the number of soldiers patrolling the streets had only increased.

At the city's airport, officials waited to receive any foreign dignitaries who might accept the prophet's invitation and travel to Vandellia for the inauguration. Their country might be small, but Robert Matthews was certain that some nations would be enlightened enough to see the value in establishing relations with his government. The country did possess some mineral wealth which might be exploited - perhaps that might be reason enough to send an emissary.

OOC: bump

[Beric]

5:14 AM Local Vandellia Time
New Jerusalem Tarmac

Jack Lester shuffled unsteadily down the stairs of the Cessna swaying ever so slightly as he stood upright. As a junior MP of the Liberal party he had not represented Beric internationally before, or even traveled internationally.

“Are you okay sir?” His aid Grace called out as she glided effortlessly onto the tarmac carrying both of their suitcases.

“Where is the car?” Jack’s eyes watered as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Two too many gin and tonics threatening to make his first act internationally a shameful and insulting one. His lithe build formed an S, while his normally pale complexion turned yellow as he struggled forward.

“The driver was reluctant to meet us on the airstrip. If we head that way” raising her arm in the general direction of the squat terminal building.

“Right. Give me those” Pulling the luggage from her hands he led them away from the plane as it started taxiing under the guidance of the ground crew. Neither felt particularly good after a rough flight through the early hours but with nearly twice his years Grace had attended a number of foreign events in the past. After a close election it was Jack’s chance to cut his teeth and show his worth as a dignitary.

Even if few in Parliament gave much priority to foreign relations Jack knew in his heart that Beric was weak from isolation and that this first foray into the international theater could herald a new era for them and a theodemocratic one was not so far from Beric’s mindset. The first step to a better country and a better career.

Nearing the terminal some officials stuck out to Jack and he lifted his hand in a gentle wave.
“Halo!” Forcing a smile Jack felt but could not see Grace’s exaggerated eye roll to him having fallen back into his Berician dialect.

[Vandellia]

Nearing the terminal some officials stuck out to Jack and he lifted his hand in a gentle wave.
“Halo!” Forcing a smile Jack felt but could not see Grace’s exaggerated eye roll to him having fallen back into his Berician dialect.

The open and general nature of the prophet's invitation to the world meant that the small and not especially well-organized diplomatic corps of the Dominion was forced to be reactive, rather than proactive. When the airplane carrying the dignitaries from Beric had first made contact with Vandellian authorities, a message had been passed along to the diplomats about the identity of their first arrivals. This, in turn, triggered a scramble for information. Secretaries and deputies pored over whatever resources they could find to give their superiors an introduction to what sort of place Beric was. There wasn't much, and it seemed quite a bit of what was easily available was written with a rather unkind eye.

This was actually encouraging to Orson Kimball, the man who was waiting to greet the two Bericians at the airport. The New Saints Church was no stranger to being described uncharitably by outsiders - this was a bit of shared experience that might form the first building block in the foundation of a new international relationship. The Dominion could not remain aloof and separate from the outside world forever - that was his opinion and it was one that he knew his superiors in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs shared.

Even with this hopeful point of commonality, Orson was nervous. There was great pressure to make these foreign dignitaries' first visit to Vandellia a positive one. If something went wrong, he could be facing the wrath of very powerful people. He could feel his heart beating faster in anticipation as the two figures approached him. He reflexively straightened his already perfect straight tie.

"Hello!" The other man's enthusiasm helped to calm Orson's anxieties. "Welcome to Vandellia. I am Orson Kimball, a member of the Ministry Foreign Affairs. I'm pleased to meet you."

While the two Bericians introduced themselves, Orson noticed the man's unhealthy-looking complexion and physical discomfort. He prayed to God that it was just the effect of some turbulence on their flight - the last thing that he or anyone else needed was for the first foreign diplomat on Vandellian soil to end up in a hospital.

[Asucki]

"I agree that we need to reach out more, that's half of what I ran my campaign on, but are you sure about this?" Inquired President Cooper for what must've been the fifth time. He could be very stubborn at times, one of his greatest failures, although his constituents didn't seem to mind it very much.

"Nothing we haven't seen before, Sean," stated a somewhat exasperated James Henry in an almost-sigh. The Minister of Foreign Affairs had spent the last hour arguing his case with the president. "We've held diplomatic summits and maintained relationships with all manners of tin-pot dictatorships and wacko theocracies. I see no reason why we shouldn't at least try with this one. It's not like we're going to turn into a 'theodemocracy' of our own if we so much as breathe on them."

Cooper idly flipped back through the pages of the dossier. Henry, who besides being a political ally of the president, also happened to be a close personal friend, watched his face. For the past hour, it had been stuck in a permanent state of either total unreadability or a mild grimace. His softer expressions revealed to the Minister that he had finally opened up to the idea.

"Maybe we should," chuckled the President. "Prophet-president Sean Cooper. It has a bit of a ring to it," he joked, before turning his attention back to the somewhat serious matter at hand. "I suppose getting involved couldn't hurt anything. I had concerns about the safety of whoever we send, but I don't think they'll be willing to risk whatever international legitimacy they might have to mess with one of our people, and just because their beliefs are a bit out there doesn't mean they're going to skin us alive." "Plus, at least they're not Catholic," he added with a grin.

"Who should we send, then?" asked the Minister, ignoring the devoutly protestant president's lighthearted jab at his beliefs.

"Kostić?"

"No. Kostić's a good man and a genius diplomat in secular or friendly settings, but there's no way he won't get upset by all of this New Saints business. He's too religiously-minded. 'Specially if these Vandellians are as fanatical as this information makes it seem. It's just a bad idea."

"Good point. What about Carr?"

"That's an idea. Nate should have the necessary tact. He's interested in these kinds of groups anyways."

"Good. Call him up as soon as possible. I want him to be there for Matthews' inauguration."

"Sure. Any special instructions?"

"For now, we're just doing this to be friendly. No reason to force ourselves into a bad spot by rushing into anything. Tell him to keep an eye out for anything that could be advantageous for us. A possible trade deal or something. Maybe the Vandellians have something we need, or vice versa. Otherwise, Ambassador Carr can sit back and enjoy a nice little vacation. I'm sure New Jerusalem's wonderful this time of year."

---

Nathaniel Carr was, indeed, a very tactful man. It had been quite some time since he was on an assignment, but he was able to hide the excitement he had for this one while on the phone with Minister Henry. He had always been particularly invested in religion, philosophy, and sociology, so he knew that he'd have the opportunity to observe the Vandellian religious culture while also fulfilling his role as ambassador. He gave the brief that the Department of Foreign Affairs had prepared for him a second look, before heading out the door towards the Novaera International Airport.

He was met there by his daughter, who had asked to tag along on his endeavor as soon as she heard the news. Her father had instilled in her similar interests, and she was now in the process of writing her college thesis for a degree in anthropology. The New Saints weren't particularly relevant to it, but the trip did offer a nice break from her work on the ancient religious practices of Asuckian natives. At least it was easy to figure out what these guys actually believed, she thought.

Both Carrs were fast asleep by the time the diplomatic plane touched down in New Jerusalem. Like father, like daughter. Once sufficiently startled awake, they were escorted down the plane's steps by two agents of the Asuckian Department of Investigation, Intelligence and Security clad in smart suits and unarmed as requested by the Vandellian government.

[Vandellia]

Nathaniel Carr was, indeed, a very tactful man. It had been quite some time since he was on an assignment, but he was able to hide the excitement he had for this one while on the phone with Minister Henry. He had always been particularly invested in religion, philosophy, and sociology, so he knew that he'd have the opportunity to observe the Vandellian religious culture while also fulfilling his role as ambassador. He gave the brief that the Department of Foreign Affairs had prepared for him a second look, before heading out the door towards the Novaera International Airport.

He was met there by his daughter, who had asked to tag along on his endeavor as soon as she heard the news. Her father had instilled in her similar interests, and she was now in the process of writing her college thesis for a degree in anthropology. The New Saints weren't particularly relevant to it, but the trip did offer a nice break from her work on the ancient religious practices of Asuckian natives. At least it was easy to figure out what these guys actually believed, she thought.

Both Carrs were fast asleep by the time the diplomatic plane touched down in New Jerusalem. Like father, like daughter. Once sufficiently startled awake, they were escorted down the plane's steps by two agents of the Asuckian Department of Investigation, Intelligence and Security clad in smart suits and unarmed as requested by the Vandellian government.

There was much more information available about the second foreign plane to request a landing at the New Jerusalem airport. Asucki was a nation located in Teremara, a region with considerable economic, diplomatic, and military heft. Making a good impression on the Asuckians might be Vandellia's entry point into a larger regional network of commercial and diplomatic connections. Because of this, William Lyman, the Deputy Secretary for Foreign Affairs, was sent to greet them at the airport once their plane had landed. He was not especially happy about the assignment - Lyman had been lukewarm on the idea of simply throwing open the gates to anyone who wandered by. He was concerned that failing to vet foreign delegations ahead of time might lead to unforeseen difficulties. But he would not speak out against the prophet's design.

The Deputy Secretary was a tall, rail-thin man - Vandellians on the whole seemed to trend towards tall and lean. He had slight bags around his eyes, which had appeared over the previous week as he had worked into the night helping to finalize the various moving parts of the inauguration ceremony. While he was technically only responsible for matters related to foreign relations, in practice top members of the Vandellian government often found themselves working on projects outside their formal portfolios, especially when requested by Robert Matthews. William's maidservant had brewed a strong tea this morning which was helping to keep the fatigue at bay.

When the Asuckians stepped off their plane and approached him, William Lyman took a step forward. He took the younger woman for a daughter, or possible a junior assistant, and so he focused his attention on the man. "Welcome to Vandellia, sir. I am William Lyman, Deputy Secretary for Foreign Affairs. I've been asked to come and make sure you get to where you need to go."

[Beric]

"Hello!" The other man's enthusiasm helped to calm Orson's anxieties. "Welcome to Vandellia. I am Orson Kimball, a member of the Ministry Foreign Affairs. I'm pleased to meet you."

“Jack Lester, Renner District MP. This is my Grace and thank you for having us. ” Thrusting the suitcases towards one of the suits that hadn’t spoken Jack felt vindicated in his black suit and tie. A good choice it seemed.

With a polite smile and nod Grace rubbed her hands at the gross introduction. Heaven forbid this man she thought. At 62 her husband would have floored the 31 year old MP if he had heard. Even if Jack was nervous it was no excuse to give an indecent impression.

“I am the aid to the MP.” Then, thinking that may have been rude, added “Thank you for having us.”

More drunk than hungover Jack tried to keep his comments short while Grace quietly slipped him some breath mints.

For all intents and purposes no matter how the trip proceeded he could return having differentiated himself from his colleagues in Parliament. It had not been a comfortable conversation when he petitioned to attend the inauguration and few in the Liberal Party would thank him for cajoling with possible fanatics but the Prime Minister was sure to take notice of his initiative.

Isolated as much by choice as by circumstance the Prime Minister McForn had on more than one occasion bemoaned the lack of international initiative in the MPs and was known to detest the vulgarity of the world. A duality of wants that had ended more than one career Jack could think of. The world was leaving them behind and without more trade and stronger ties he felt his children's generation would inherit a backwater of a country.

He had thought the drink would settle his stomach if not his nerves during the flight and started to wonder if it had been a mistake as even the mints felt like too much. Glancing past the reception committee Jack noticed the mighty structure overlooking the city.
“Wow.” The Temple was truly a sight to behold even at a distance. No stranger to Cathedrals as a staunch Catholic he struggled to think of a Church in Beric that could compete with the scale.

“That is nothing if not inspiring. Can we expect to meet the Prophet before the inauguration?” Jack asked as he thought past his awkward arrival. He had watched the short war and secession with a ideal curiosity that brought the Prophet to power.

[Asucki]

When the Asuckians stepped off their plane and approached him, William Lyman took a step forward. He took the younger woman for a daughter, or possible a junior assistant, and so he focused his attention on the man. "Welcome to Vandellia, sir. I am William Lyman, Deputy Secretary for Foreign Affairs. I've been asked to come and make sure you get to where you need to go."

"Thank you. My name is Nathaniel Carr, and," he motioned towards the woman standing at his side, "this is my daughter, Amanda." She offered a polite but quiet and reserved wave. The two security agents stopped their solemn scanning of the surrounding area for a moment to give a small nod towards the Secretary. Nathaniel always thought that ADIIS took their jobs too seriously.

Standing with the Secretary, the two figures could look any more different. While, on average, Asuckians trended towards a similar spindly look, the Carrs had always been of larger, stouter, sometimes more muscular, builds. Beside his heavier build, the ambassador was fairly average in appearance, although his face held more wrinkles and stress marks than most other middle-aged men. They were the everlasting monuments towards the difficulties he had in his life. His daughter stood next to him, as she had for most of her life until this point, with a mild smile on her face.

Nathaniel was somewhat surprised at how they had been welcomed. He had half expected something more energetic, an attempt to win the Asuckians over, as tended to be common with these kinds of groups. William's polite and restrained greeting was a pleasant surprise. Amanda was similarly surprised and equally pleased.

"Please," Nathaniel said with a smile, "take us where we need to go, then. I'm sure we're all eager to meet with President Matthews and participate in the inauguration ceremony."

[Vandellia]

Glancing past the reception committee Jack noticed the mighty structure overlooking the city.
“Wow.” The Temple was truly a sight to behold even at a distance. No stranger to Cathedrals as a staunch Catholic he struggled to think of a Church in Beric that could compete with the scale.

“That is nothing if not inspiring. Can we expect to meet the Prophet before the inauguration?” Jack asked as he thought past his awkward arrival. He had watched the short war and secession with a ideal curiosity that brought the Prophet to power.

Orson Kimball was obviously proud to hear the foreign dignitary expressing such admiration for the Temple, even from this distance. "It was one of the first structures built when the New Saints arrived in this land," he explained. "And it remains the center of the faith. If you are interested, I can try to arrange a tour while you are here?"

"I'm afraid the Prophet won't be appearing in public until the inauguration ceremony," Orson said in response to the second question. "However, there will be a levee afterwards, where he will make an appearance, and I'm certain he will want to meet you then. And several other members of the government will be at a reception prior to the ceremony."

Orson beckoned the two Bericians to the waiting car, which was soon rolling away from the airport and through the streets of New Jerusalem. The city felt like it was bursting at the seams, with the streets more crowded than usual with people coming for the inauguration. However, traffic was not as congested as one might expect with such crowds. Most people moved around the city via public transportation: there was a system of buses, trolleys, and light rail that provided any transportation beyond easy walking within the city itself.

"There are also buses and trains for travel around Vandellia," Orson explained as the car moved through the city. "The farmers in the countryside have small trucks and such, but sedans and the like are less common. Fuel scarcity is a big reason for that."

Nathaniel was somewhat surprised at how they had been welcomed. He had half expected something more energetic, an attempt to win the Asuckians over, as tended to be common with these kinds of groups. William's polite and restrained greeting was a pleasant surprise. Amanda was similarly surprised and equally pleased.

"Please," Nathaniel said with a smile, "take us where we need to go, then. I'm sure we're all eager to meet with President Matthews and participate in the inauguration ceremony."

"It is a pleasure to meet you," William Lyman told the pair. "The President-elect has reserved several rooms at one of the city's hotels for the use of foreign delegations." He gestured to the waiting car. "After you've dropped off any personal effects or luggage, there is a reception planned with some of our top government officials before the ceremony. And afterwards, President Matthews will make an appearance at a levee - he'll certainly want to meet you, and thank you for coming himself."

"No doubt you noticed the Temple on your descent," the Deputy Secretary continued as they got into the car and began to travel into the city. "This city was the first settlement founded by the New Saints Church in this territory, and one of the Prophet's first concerns was building a suitable place of worship. That Temple stood as testament to the faith, and perseverance, of his faithful."

"Of course," he hastened to add, "This is not a theocracy. Robert Matthews was insistent, from the beginning, that all faiths would be protected here. Our flock has suffered enough from ignorance and bigotry to inflict such things upon others."

[Beric]

Orson Kimball was obviously proud to hear the foreign dignitary expressing such admiration for the Temple, even from this distance. "It was one of the first structures built when the New Saints arrived in this land," he explained. "And it remains the center of the faith. If you are interested, I can try to arrange a tour while you are here?"

"I'm afraid the Prophet won't be appearing in public until the inauguration ceremony," Orson said in response to the second question. "However, there will be a levee afterwards, where he will make an appearance, and I'm certain he will want to meet you then. And several other members of the government will be at a reception prior to the ceremony."

"There are also buses and trains for travel around Vandellia," Orson explained as the car moved through the city. "The farmers in the countryside have small trucks and such, but sedans and the like are less common. Fuel scarcity is a big reason for that."

With a quick and eager assent to a tour of the Temple structure Jack and Grace eagerly began their journey into the city. It was no big surprise that the Future President would not have time for a meeting.

“Did you know that the Cathedral of Prince of Peace is the largest church in Beric?” Without pausing for a response Jack continued; relieved to be sitting again. “It was actually built as a small congregational church in the 1870s and not many people know that the original church is still there in the basement. They built it over and around it! Oh they have spent decades trying to preserve the wood but it gives you a real sense for the constancy of the place. What year was the Temple construction started? “

Grace sat glued to the window taking in the street life as they threaded through the city. There were fewer cars than would be common in Beric even if buses and trolleys were common. She watched with a curiosity born of seclusion. She had traveled Beric extensively by road or boat in her 59 years as was common but only been out of the country twice, and those were short trips across the border.

“Shortages you say? Yes I fear Beric has felt the squeeze on that account. Of course for us its a matter of working together more often than not. I didn’t leave Renner county until I was sixteen. What kind of hunting do you have around here?” Still inebriated, Jack found it hard to contain his enthusiasm. “The country certainly looks beautiful from above. Shame you are landlocked. 90% of our trade is by sea you know? I am sure you have some good lakes though. Nearly as good most of the time. And much easier to slip back on the weather turns.”

Seeing a crowd of the more modest citizens along the street Jack was reminded of home and wondered to himself if the New Saints would be hemmed in and suffocated. Beric had indeed felt the squeeze of fuel shortages itself. A naturally beautiful country in Jack's mind they had coal, granite, wood and a host of other tradable assets but little in the way of oil.

[Asucki]

"It is a pleasure to meet you," William Lyman told the pair. "The President-elect has reserved several rooms at one of the city's hotels for the use of foreign delegations." He gestured to the waiting car. "After you've dropped off any personal effects or luggage, there is a reception planned with some of our top government officials before the ceremony. And afterwards, President Matthews will make an appearance at a levee - he'll certainly want to meet you, and thank you for coming himself."

"No doubt you noticed the Temple on your descent," the Deputy Secretary continued as they got into the car and began to travel into the city. "This city was the first settlement founded by the New Saints Church in this territory, and one of the Prophet's first concerns was building a suitable place of worship. That Temple stood as testament to the faith, and perseverance, of his faithful."

"Of course," he hastened to add, "This is not a theocracy. Robert Matthews was insistent, from the beginning, that all faiths would be protected here. Our flock has suffered enough from ignorance and bigotry to inflict such things upon others."

As Nathaniel and his daughter sat calmly in the vehicle, they watched the city of New Jerusalem go by. The Vandellian capital's small and humble nature stood in definite contrast to the capital cities the ambassador was used to visiting, and certainly nothing like the rugged chaos of Novaera, his own home town and the Asuckian capital. Yet, both of the Carrs felt oddly at home here. Different as their beliefs might be, the Vandellians here were, based on duo's observations, at least, equally as devout as any Orthodox or Catholic commuter walking the cold Novaeran streets. Perhaps such religiousness was innate to humanity, thought Amanda.

The Temple that they were presented with further enhanced the sense of similarity between here and home. Aurinnen, another major Asuckian city, held a significant landmark in the United Cathedral, a place of worship built up over previous decades by various Christian groups working in unison in an attempt to mitigate the ever-rising expenses of metropolitan land and building permits. Leaving the thoughts of his homeland aside for the moment, Nathaniel offered a response to Lyman's explanation of the grand structure. "It's very impressive. Your people must be very proud of it."

Their guide's comment on religious freedom elicited a subtle raise of the ambassador's eyebrow. He made a mental note to press the President on the matter to see just how principled he was. "Gently, of course," he thought, "no need to raise any hackles. Not yet, at least." Despite the healthy skepticism regarding the Minister's statement, he felt fairly confident that this engagement would be successful in some way.

"Nnoble goal, but how are you going to back it up?" Interjected Amanda suddenly and harshly, as if assaulting the poor Minister with a verbal blunt instrument. Nathaniel tensed. In and of itself the question wasn't anything especially offensive, but given the overall situation and the way she said it, her father felt as though she was almost trying to provoke the Vandellian. He wasn't surprised that her thoughts were somewhat in line with his, but he was a bit shocked at her forwardness. He had long been aware that his daughter didn't have quite the tactfulness that he did, it was part of the reason she didn't choose to pursue a career in the diplomatic field, but this seemed very drastic.

He quickly attempted to apply a splint to the proverbial blunt-force wound. He loudly cleared his throat and shot Amanda an icy glare before turning to William and attempting to reconcile the situation. "Please excuse my daughter, Minister," he began, after taking a moment to compose himself, "I'm sure proper measures are being taken. It is a noble goal indeed, and I'd very much like to discuss the matter with the President himself. Perhaps Amanda would like to express her concerns to him as well." Putting her hand up in exasperation, Amanda began to say something in protest, but another, equally as cold glare from her father led her to give it up for the time being. Satisfied with his apology and his daughter's dropping of the matter, Nathaniel turned back to Minister Lyman with a smile, although this one was noticeably more strained than the one he had offered at the airport.

[Vandellia]

The two cars carrying the foreign dignitaries were headed for City Hall, where one of the large spaces had been prepared for the pre-inauguration reception. As they got closer to their destination, they began to pass by soldiers manning checkpoints in the roads. They were stationed at regular intervals to control the flow of crowds and monitor which vehicles were getting close to the Presidential Mansion and the other government buildings. The soldiers wore the rifle green uniforms of the Hutaree, and carried assault rifles. Some of the troops had an armband around their right arm, featuring the symbol of the Church.

With a quick and eager assent to a tour of the Temple structure Jack and Grace eagerly began their journey into the city. It was no big surprise that the Future President would not have time for a meeting.

“Did you know that the Cathedral of Prince of Peace is the largest church in Beric?” Without pausing for a response Jack continued; relieved to be sitting again. “It was actually built as a small congregational church in the 1870s and not many people know that the original church is still there in the basement. They built it over and around it! Oh they have spent decades trying to preserve the wood but it gives you a real sense for the constancy of the place. What year was the Temple construction started? “

"Planning for the Temple began almost as soon as the first members of the Church arrived in the area," Orson Kimball recounted. "The initial construction was completed around two years after the establishment of the city, but the whole thing wasn't really finished until a few years after that. And of course, with the Lord's blessing and protection, the structure came through the reckoning with Mareyland unscathed."

“Shortages you say? Yes I fear Beric has felt the squeeze on that account. Of course for us its a matter of working together more often than not. I didn’t leave Renner county until I was sixteen. What kind of hunting do you have around here?” Still inebriated, Jack found it hard to contain his enthusiasm. “The country certainly looks beautiful from above. Shame you are landlocked. 90% of our trade is by sea you know? I am sure you have some good lakes though. Nearly as good most of the time. And much easier to slip back on the weather turns.”

"Lacking a seaport does create some difficulties," Orson admitted. "But we have negotiated navigation rights along the rivers which flow out of Vandellia, and pass through other nations before reaching the ocean." He had actually sat in on some of those discussions, though in a purely assistant role to more senior diplomats. "But many people who came to Vandellia sought to distance themselves from the hyper-connected world, with all its greed and stress. The prophet has taught that honest work is far more rewarding than the mindless pursuit of riches."

The proselytizing language rolled off Orson's tongue naturally, but he seemed to regret it. He did not want to seem too forward, or offend the diplomat by appearing as though he was trying to convert them. He decided to change topics, and Jack's question about hunting offered an easy means to do so. "Hunting is very popular in the countryside," he told the Berician. "Deer, turkey, different types of birds, and then there's fox and wolf hunting to keep the predators from killing livestock."

"Noble goal, but how are you going to back it up?" Interjected Amanda suddenly and harshly, as if assaulting the poor Minister with a verbal blunt instrument. Nathaniel tensed. In and of itself the question wasn't anything especially offensive, but given the overall situation and the way she said it, her father felt as though she was almost trying to provoke the Vandellian. He wasn't surprised that her thoughts were somewhat in line with his, but he was a bit shocked at her forwardness. He had long been aware that his daughter didn't have quite the tactfulness that he did, it was part of the reason she didn't choose to pursue a career in the diplomatic field, but this seemed very drastic.

He quickly attempted to apply a splint to the proverbial blunt-force wound. He loudly cleared his throat and shot Amanda an icy glare before turning to William and attempting to reconcile the situation. "Please excuse my daughter, Minister," he began, after taking a moment to compose himself, "I'm sure proper measures are being taken. It is a noble goal indeed, and I'd very much like to discuss the matter with the President himself. Perhaps Amanda would like to express her concerns to him as well." Putting her hand up in exasperation, Amanda began to say something in protest, but another, equally as cold glare from her father led her to give it up for the time being. Satisfied with his apology and his daughter's dropping of the matter, Nathaniel turned back to Minister Lyman with a smile, although this one was noticeably more strained than the one he had offered at the airport.

The Deputy Secretary was obviously not expecting such a direct question from the diplomat's daughter, and surprise was followed by indignation on his features. But he regained control of his face and returned to the polite smile, as if nothing untoward had happened.

"I'm sure that President Matthews would be happy to speak on the matter," William Lyman said through a smile that seemed as strained as the one on Nathaniel's face. "For a short summary, the core documents of our government contain explicit guarantees of the right to practice their faith. While many elected officials and a majority of voters are members of the New Saints Church, we do have non-members in various government offices. One of President Matthews's close advisors, Edward Easton, is a Baptist."

Of course, there was much that the Deputy Secretary left unmentioned. The voting power of the New Saints left those not within the Church completely beholden to their political views, since no religious minority in the country could match their numbers or organization. Some of the laws regulating candidacy for office were worded in ways that allowed officials to exclude certain faiths from running for office. And some among the Church leadership did advocate, openly and behind closed doors, for stricter implementation of religious rule.

[Beric]

"Planning for the Temple began almost as soon as the first members of the Church arrived in the area," Orson Kimball recounted. "The initial construction was completed around two years after the establishment of the city, but the whole thing wasn't really finished until a few years after that. And of course, with the Lord's blessing and protection, the structure came through the reckoning with Mareyland unscathed."

“I watched the reckoning you contented with with an interest and was thankful did not go on longer, though I am sure many of your people remember the toll enacted Mareyland. Bravely done.”

"Lacking a seaport does create some difficulties," Orson admitted. "But we have negotiated navigation rights along the rivers which flow out of Vandellia, and pass through other nations before reaching the ocean." He had actually sat in on some of those discussions, though in a purely assistant role to more senior diplomats. "But many people who came to Vandellia sought to distance themselves from the hyper-connected world, with all its greed and stress. The prophet has taught that honest work is far more rewarding than the mindless pursuit of riches."

"Hunting is very popular in the countryside," he told the Berician. "Deer, turkey, different types of birds, and then there's fox and wolf hunting to keep the predators from killing livestock."

Letting his own mental cogs fall into place the mention of possible trade routes being open ignited a curiosity. Though he had no trouble keeping a inebriated glaze over his expression.

“I can understand the need to disconnect from the world. Even in Beric the day to day life can feel too disconnected with God and nature. And forgive me but I meant do You find time to hunt? Or the President elect for that matter?”
He doubted if he would spend more than five minutes with the prophet but Jack was eager to feel out the interests and temperaments of the New Saints political class.

“I personally make a point of going every fall. Not that I always find what I am looking for, but sometimes the time, the focus…It’s enough to ground you. Away from the politics and noise of city life. ”
Glancing back out the window Jack watched a throng of people disembark from a bus. Not homogeneous but with a flow that comes in peaceful crowds. “It is a shame the toll war can take. It wasn’t until the 80s we found the balance and started harvesting the bounty of our land properly. Why back in the 40s they were clear cutting forests and forcing people out of their homes. It is always hard though isn’t it? We only have so much but when you are isolated you use what you have. “

“If I might?” Grace broke in as casually as possible. “Might we be provided with copies of the New Saint Testament? It should be a shame to come all this way to leave ignorant.” Grace finished.

Jack nodded in agreement. Showing interest in a people was never a bad way to start. He had never expected to accomplish much with his attache Osson. No, the important conversations would be that evening it seemed. But that did not mean it had to be for nothing, every nuance would give him insight into how beneficial the evening could be. The car made came to a stop and the contents of Jack’s stomach swished about and Jack clenched his teeth until the moment passed.

[Sombreland]

The Gray Palace, Sombreland

The Minister of the Left, who was also the Minister of Death, was observing his two favourite Painted Tortoises eating various plants and vegetables in their rather solemn yet enthusiastic way. Each would contemplate the vegetation carefully, and then, opening their beak like mouths, lunge forward to grab part of a piece of fruit or a leaf and begin gulping it down. It was fascinating for him to watch. This took place in one of the courtyard gardens. Prince Shalayew Kadav, the Minister, was in the midst of this observation when the Director of Foreign Affairs came and bowed low to him. The Director reported to him that a barbaric place called The Blessed Dominion of Vandellia was having a presidential inauguration.

"Naturally, Your Highness, I am bringing this to your attention because of our 'trolling the net' policy. If you recall..."

"The policy is not mine, Director, but that of the Royal Court. And you have not told this to the Chancellor, or to the Regent?" asked the Minister, watching the tortoises calmly.

The Director gasped. "Of course not, Your Highness!"

"I will inform them, then, that this seems to be a decent example of trolling the net and coming up with something that does not entangle," and he smiled as the Director clapped his hands in appreciation of his bon mot.

The Chancellor, who had a bad cough, observed that support for foreign religious states was a wise idea as long as they were not expansionist and aimed at forcing conversion on other nations (Like Sombreland). It demonstrated that the Princess-Regent was continuing the King's policy of expanding trade and diplomacy. The Princess-Regent, who had never heard of Vandellia, spent an exciting time locating it on a globe and having a contest with her courtiers. It was her Captain of the Guard who found it, who blushed with delight at her clapping of her pretty hands, her lovely eyes wide with excitement, and yet was disappointed that things went no further than that with his brief moment of favour.

The Minister then met with the Director of Foreign Affairs, and asked him if there was some gentleman who he would recommend to send as an envoy to this meeting. Perhaps a former official of state who had retired but was still willing to be of service, a man of experience. The director promptly recommended Count Clotto de Glode.

Count Clotto de Gode had shoulders that were narrow and stooped, but his buttocks were impressively large, often clothed in trousers that were brown wool double knits, with wide cuffs and a shiny seat; they were always baggy, and they had big, deep, droopy pockets.. He wore his pants very high, hiked up above the swell of his stomach, and cinched them in place around his chest with a narrow brown leather belt. Beneath these trousers, his socks were held up with straps. Although he was very fond of eating; indeed, food was his favourite thing, he always ate neatly, with a large white napkin that he would often proudly display as having barely been stained.

His shirts were always light with a pattern or blue, and he was draped in a dark brown jacket with broad lapels. His head was like a pear, with a broad jaw and he also had a double chin and wide, full, fleshy cheeks, and the top of his head seemed to come almost to a point. His nose was broad and flat, with large, greasy pores; his eyes were small and pale, set close together. His hair is thin, dark, and carefully combed over his scalp. His voice, when he speaks, was surprisingly high and sounded odd coming from so large a man, and from those broad fleshy lips.

When he walked, he swayed like a ship moving on challenging tides and high winds.

What he had, the Director observed, was an excellent ability to observe other people and situations, both the small and the great, and to put them together. He was very polite and friendly, and though he had a surprising appearance he could quickly put people at their ease. But most of all, above all things, he had a splendid pedigree. Many of his ancestors and recent relations had been fine diplomats, explorers, soldiers, and courtiers. His ancestry could be read simply in looking at important artwork depicting key moments in history. Often one of his ancestors was seen there, holding a banner, offering a pen, standing at an elbow, bending to whisper in an ear. He was one of those men whose bloodline was the glue that held the Kingdom together. He had served in several important government positions, the highest of which had been Director of Weights and Measures.

When he was called to service, he put on a good suit, waddled into the Throne Room where the Princess-Regent sat on the Consort's Throne, and bowed low so that his vast behind was all that people farther away could see, vowing to serve Her Majestic Highness to the best of his ability.

And with that, he was joined by a carefully selected entourage of advisors, servants and security, and headed to the conference. He also was given a gift to present to the new President in honour of his inauguration.

[Brettenwald]

"I suppose my house does have... certain advantages for this kind of thing," His Lordship Duke Harald Askinen said in a tone of mild interest with a scratch of his beard. "Even disregarding their, how should I say, their-"

"If you're going to call them freaks or something just spit it out," His Majesty the Emperor grunted with no little irritation through a mouthful of Cuban cigar, holding a fat gold Zippo up to the freshly cut business end.

"-more unorthodox interpretations of Christian theology and fundamental culture clashes even discounting that, yes, thank you. Polygamy, for all that's holy. But returning once more to my point, shouldn't you really be sending someone with more background in North American cultures to this kind of thing? I don't mind doing this, you know we don't do too much business as a government with Christian nations and frankly it's an interesting change of pace, but this is first contact for lack of a better term."

His Majesty blew a smoke ring. "Look, you're a Christian- so you've got something in common with them -and you're both a people person and not a bloody fool. Frankly this is just plain easier than barraging some poor bastard in Alerik's ministry with a crash course on religious sensitivity and firing him off into the great wide open. It's about the message. 'Here, we care enough to send someone of reasonable importance and not an overworked glad-handing functionary' or something like that. It's not going to be me or one of the kids because Vandellia doesn't matter that much, Alerik's got his hands full with bureaucratic restructuring, and my brothers are all unsuitable in some capacity or another. Henrik's too useful here, it's like pulling teeth to get Arin out of the mountains and down south, and cousin Magnus comes on a little too strong plus he's not the policy type anyway. You just work. Figure out what they're all about, see if we can make any money off of them, and don't embarrass us. Simple."

---

His Lordship, dressed in a dark blue three-piece suit and sporting a freshly trimmed beard and side-part hairdo, stepped out of the silver Bombardier business jet with a level of confidence surprising even to himself considering that the culture shock of coming here from his homeland was best described as a cross between the Rapture and a Trinity atomic bomb test. A plain but not unattractive gray-haired gentleman of 57 years with the placid, reserved demeanor of an old hunting dog, the Duke had honed his diplomatic skills to an extremely fine point first as an ambassador then as Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs, before being handpicked as part of His Majesty's unofficial bureaucratic dream team (which was usually but not always separate from the Cabinet, one reason that the Crown's organizational charts needed their own organizational charts) and settling into a comfortable, highly paid routine as one of the most important cogs nobody paid attention to in the great governmental machine. House Askinen being the aristocracy's redheaded stepchild due to a persistent alignment with Christianity (more specifically the Roman Catholic Church) had its advantages when it came to this particular assignment, though it did have a tendency to get his family funny looks.

"Duke Harald Askinen, representing the Empire of Brettenwald. Very pleased to meet you."

[Vandellia]

OOC: I apologize for the delay in responding, I was occupied IRL. I am going to move everyone to the pre-inauguration reception, as described at the bottom of the post, which will cut short the transition between airport and reception for those who just joined the RP. I'm waiting on a TG response from Brettenwald before I reply to their post.

“I watched the reckoning you contented with with an interest and was thankful did not go on longer, though I am sure many of your people remember the toll enacted Mareyland. Bravely done.”

Orson Kimball nodded, somberly. "Yes, the conflict was short, and for that everyone was grateful. You have to understand that, despite the slanders which ran rampant in Mareyland media before and during the war, the New Saints never intended secession when we settled this region. We simply wished to find a place where we could enjoy the liberties that Mareyland's constitution supposedly granted to all its citizens. But when it became apparent that we would always be persecuted...there was simply no other alternative."

“I can understand the need to disconnect from the world. Even in Beric the day to day life can feel too disconnected with God and nature. And forgive me but I meant do You find time to hunt? Or the President elect for that matter?”

"The President-elect does not hunt," Orson replied. "Or, at least, I've never heard about him hunting. Myself, I've been out a few times, but never any luck. I don't have the patience for it, or the stomach frankly." The diplomat shrugged.

“It is a shame the toll war can take. It wasn’t until the 80s we found the balance and started harvesting the bounty of our land properly. Why back in the 40s they were clear cutting forests and forcing people out of their homes. It is always hard though isn’t it? We only have so much but when you are isolated you use what you have. “

Orson nodded emphatically. "It's a difficult balance to strike, between preserving the beauty of the land and ensuring the needs of the people are met. We have little in the way of major industry - when the settlements were first established, no one ever thought we would be anything but another county in Mareyland, and able to easily draw on the industries of the rest of the country. We can offer foreign trade partners raw goods, like the lumber of our forests, or the minerals beneath our hills, but to extract these things risks sickening the land. There are places back in Mareyland that are scarred and poisoned for generations, because greed drove men to pillage the land. The Lord may have given man dominion over the earth, but He expects responsible stewardship."

“If I might?” Grace broke in as casually as possible. “Might we be provided with copies of the New Saint Testament? It should be a shame to come all this way to leave ignorant.” Grace finished.

"I will make sure that you leave Vandellia with a copy each," Orson promised.

---

And with that, he was joined by a carefully selected entourage of advisors, servants and security, and headed to the conference. He also was given a gift to present to the new President in honour of his inauguration.

The Count was met at the airport by a junior member of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs named Herbert Wright, a man who might be uncharitably described as plump who sported a beard of impressive fullness and length and thick sideburns. He wore large spectacles, which he was constantly fidgeting with as if they were poorly fitted to his head. He had drawn this assignment because, similar to Beric, Sombreland was a place which was not well known to the Vandellian government. Based on the information that could be gathered and digested on short notice, they appeared to be a nation coming out of a long seclusion, but quick to make their presence felt. Herbert had been especially interested in Sombreland's involvement in the Gyzantian Civil War, which demonstrated an ability to project power - such capability made them a potentially useful ally.

The swaying, buxom Count Clotto was quite a sight, but Herbert Wright kept his expression neutral as the foreigner waddled down the gangway from his airplane and approached the diplomatic car which was waiting for him.

"Welcome to Vandellia, sir," Herbert said as the driver opened the door of the vehicle. "My name is Herbert Wright, and I'm a member of the Foreign Ministry. I've been sent to take you to City Hall for the opening reception, which will be starting soon."

---

The cars containing the foreign dignitaries all came to a stop in front of City Hall, which was one of the largest buildings in the city besides the great Temple on the hill overlooking New Jerusalem. It was built mainly of red brick, with white stone columns and other white accents. Atop the building was a large dome, sheathed in copper and painted a golden yellow. There were two plinths in front of the structure, topped with bronze statues of male and female figures, representing the personifications of Liberty and Strength. The building was decorated with colorful bunting for the occasion.

The dignitaries were ushered out of their vehicles and into the building. The pre-inauguration reception was taking place in the large hall of the building. While it would be small and cramped by the standards of the great halls of massive palaces, it was one of the largest open indoor spaces in the entire Dominion. Women in serving uniforms moved around with silver trays bearing small morsels of food and glasses of wine and cider for the guests to take and consume. A band was set up in one corner, playing soft music on string instruments. The room was full of men in formal outfits, some of them accompanied by women in expensive dresses. They were talking among themselves, but all heads turned to the door when a herald announced the arrival of each foreign dignitary as they arrived.

Among those in attendance at the reception were members of the provisional government which had administered Vandellia since its independence. Almost all of these men were either confirmed or all-but-confirmed to receive positions in the new government that would be formed once Robert Matthews was installed as President. The two brightest stars in the room were Nathaniel Scudder and John Farson. Scudder had the look of an academic, with a bald head and a pair of small glasses perched on his nose. He was the most capable administrator among the Prophet's inner circle, and had been the Senator representing the area which was now Vandellia prior to its breaking away from Mareyland. Around him swirled the men of ambition who sought advancement within the new government.

Farson, on the other hand, was the New Saints' preeminent military commander, second-in-command of the Hutaree subordinate only to Robert Matthews himself, who held the title of Major General. He was a bulldog in human form, stout and muscular with eyes that seemed to be evaluating everything in their sight and finding it wanting. He wore a uniform which included a few medals on the breast, and held court with a few other officers and admirers in one part of the room.

Perhaps the most striking figure in the room was David Harriman, a wealthy businessman and convert who had been swayed by the Prophet's words and poured his financial resources into the Church, and Vandellia. His boorish manner earned him few friends, but he retained the favor of the Prophet and thus could not be excluded from such an event. He had chosen to bring all three of his wives - all of whom were several years his junior - to this reception, and they were dressed to impress, with daring outfits that danced along the line of acceptable for the setting.

[Beric]

Still absorbing Orson’s replies Jack Leston emerged from the car more easily than he had the plane a little while before, straightening his tie as he did so. However he was feeling from the lingering alcohol in his system he was not a novice to public events and knew how to contain his discomfort under a friendly venire.

City Hall was not overly different in size or scale to some of the larger city halls back home and did little to draw his or Grace's attention. The temple near it did capture his attention and drew him away from the car and the prescribed path no doubt to the gathering within. Whatever drove these people was inexplicably linked to the temple. Prominent for the city and notable in it’s own right, if humble by the standard of Cathedrales. Feeling eyes on his back, whether they were Grace’s or the attendants’ he could not say. Knowing the mystery would not be unraveled by the stone but by the minds of their hosts Jack turned on his heels and sauntered into the open air party.

The announcement was a surprise. Members of Parliament only warranting introductions when giving speeches at home reminded Jack that he had placed himself on the world stage, if only in a small way. Taking a second for the room to accept his presence he proceeded to the side taking in the room around him before turning to watch the next digitory to enter.

Wine not being to his taste took the first glass of cider he could find and sipped cautiously. Grace was nearby, not so far as to discourage anyone from approaching but near enough to be on hand. With an open and practiced smile he accepted a little apprentice and held it in his free hand.

Dressed more for a day at a bank than a party Jack was aware his simple suit likely left him only a step above the servers in attire. Nonetheless everything about the New Saints seemed to appreciate simplicity. He would not try to engage past a smile and a passing greeting until the entrance announcements were complete. Knowing Grace would be taking careful note of the dignitaries Jack focused on the room. Watching the groups and who huddled around who. This would indicate who the power brokers would be in this country as it would anywhere else.

So far the only thing he knew for certain that left these folk alien to Bericians would be the uniformity of their sect of Christianinity and the habit of multiple wives. The fact was little more than a curiosity to Jack who was used to a fairly patriarchal society. It would not impact any matters of importance. More important was if there was room for mutual benefit between their nations. Unless they held a human sacrifice at the inauguration his simply having arrived would add political clout back home. But if enough could be gained to warrant Jack recommending a trade committee be established than could build enough favors to aim for a cabinet position in a few years.

Orson’s hints on the New Saints needs did leave some space but that would depend much on the temperament of these people.

[Vandellia]

OOC: Posting a response to Brettenwald just to get them from airport to City Hall. Replies to people arriving at the reception will be coming soon.

His Lordship, dressed in a dark blue three-piece suit and sporting a freshly trimmed beard and side-part hairdo, stepped out of the silver Bombardier business jet with a level of confidence surprising even to himself considering that the culture shock of coming here from his homeland was best described as a cross between the Rapture and a Trinity atomic bomb test. A plain but not unattractive gray-haired gentleman of 57 years with the placid, reserved demeanor of an old hunting dog, the Duke had honed his diplomatic skills to an extremely fine point first as an ambassador then as Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs, before being handpicked as part of His Majesty's unofficial bureaucratic dream team (which was usually but not always separate from the Cabinet, one reason that the Crown's organizational charts needed their own organizational charts) and settling into a comfortable, highly paid routine as one of the most important cogs nobody paid attention to in the great governmental machine. House Askinen being the aristocracy's redheaded stepchild due to a persistent alignment with Christianity (more specifically the Roman Catholic Church) had its advantages when it came to this particular assignment, though it did have a tendency to get his family funny looks.

"Duke Harald Askinen, representing the Empire of Brettenwald. Very pleased to meet you."

Brettenwald was not as unfamiliar a name to the diplomatic corps of Vandellia as some of the other countries sending emissaries to the inauguration. They had been trade partners of Mareyland, so there were many among the New Saints who had some experience doing business with, or at least related to, that country. That familiarity, coupled with Brettenwald's economic stature, made them similar to Asucki in the evaluations of the Foreign Ministry - a nation worth showing a slightly higher level of recognition in their reception.

With the Deputy Secretary of Foreign Affairs already committed to the Asuckian delegation, his immediate subordinate, the Assistant Deputy Secretary, was assigned to meet and Brettenwalders at the airport and ensure their smooth and quick transition to City Hall for the reception. The Assistant Deputy Secretary was a short man whose skin was a few shades darker than the complexion of most Vandellians, the physical heritage of the mixed-race family that had produced him.

"Welcome to Vandellia," he said as the foreign dignitaries descended from their plane. "My name is Willard Goodson, Assistant Deputy Secretary for Foreign Affairs. I've been sent by our Foreign Ministry to escort you to City Hall for the opening reception."

[Asucki]

The four Asuckians exited out of the car, exchanging Deputy Minister William Lyman and the slightly awkward situation for the glamor and clamor of the reception with their close of the door. The father and daughter, flanked by the ADIIS agents, began climbing the steps leading to City Hall's entrance. "Sorry about what I said in the car-" Amanda started quietly, keeping her face forwards as she continued walking.

Nathaniel responded before she could explain herself further, taking care to maintain their dignified approach by not slowing down pr facing away either. "Don't worry about it. Sometimes it doesn't hurt to say the quiet part out loud. The nature of foreign affairs requires you to be bit more sensitivity to our situation in the future, but it's not an unforgivable mistake." Sensing that it would likely be appreciated, he abandoned the stoic look forward to offered Amanda his daughter a warm smile.

Satisfied with her father's response, Amanda cheered up a bit. The duo even entered City Hall with a bit of a spring in their step, which was furthered by the announcement of their arrival. While the pomp of diplomacy had long since become routine for Nathaniel, attention and respect were never unwelcome. Amanda, however, had never experienced anything like it before. They both offered cheery waves to the guests, taking in their friendly welcome in its fullest.

Their grand entrance made, the Asuckians slowly drifted their way through the crowd and across the floor, taking note of seemingly important people as they went. Circles of conversation gathered around these figures, and Nathaniel wondered how many would in time evolve and morph into spheres of influence. Both Carrs accepted a drinks from a passing server, and continued onwards as they sipped them, taking care to note as they went which figures seemed worth striking up conversation with.

[Sombreland]

Count Clotto de Gode sighed with great relief when he was ushered into the hall, and observed, "Ah, Mr. Wright, I see that we are off to a good start! I am fairly dying of thirst and appetite." With that, he set to selecting a number of food items and a glass of red wine. Though he ate with great enthusiasm, it vanished into his mouth as neatly as a factory; no food was spilled, no liquid splashed. He had an eye for how things should be eaten; a small pastry was consumed with deft handling of the napkin, a morsel that was meaty or juice neatly popped into that fleshy lipped mouth with ample dexterity.

He asked Wright to point out the great men in the hall, and observed them thoughtfully.

"It is interesting, is it not," he mused to Wright, "That some revolutionary movements are led by academics." He made a mental note that Scudder was evidently treated with respect. How deep that ran was a question to be answered later. "Tell me Mr. Wright, is Major-General the highest rank in your nation's military right now?"

He was interested in the polygamy evident there. This was not practiced commonly in Sombreland, though a form of concubinage was sometimes. He, himself, had a wife and children, and also a concubine, as many wealthy or high born men did. However, he did not stare at the women, giving them mostly just a glance. He was curious as well about the financier's wives displaying more of their attractiveness than appeared to be noble. Was this because he was a recent convert, or was it customary around the hub of power? He glanced at other women present to compare.

[Brettenwald]

OOC: Posting a response to Brettenwald just to get them from airport to City Hall. Replies to people arriving at the reception will be coming soon.

His Lordship, dressed in a dark blue three-piece suit and sporting a freshly trimmed beard and side-part hairdo, stepped out of the silver Bombardier business jet with a level of confidence surprising even to himself considering that the culture shock of coming here from his homeland was best described as a cross between the Rapture and a Trinity atomic bomb test. A plain but not unattractive gray-haired gentleman of 57 years with the placid, reserved demeanor of an old hunting dog, the Duke had honed his diplomatic skills to an extremely fine point first as an ambassador then as Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs, before being handpicked as part of His Majesty's unofficial bureaucratic dream team (which was usually but not always separate from the Cabinet, one reason that the Crown's organizational charts needed their own organizational charts) and settling into a comfortable, highly paid routine as one of the most important cogs nobody paid attention to in the great governmental machine. House Askinen being the aristocracy's redheaded stepchild due to a persistent alignment with Christianity (more specifically the Roman Catholic Church) had its advantages when it came to this particular assignment, though it did have a tendency to get his family funny looks.

"Duke Harald Askinen, representing the Empire of Brettenwald. Very pleased to meet you."

Brettenwald was not as unfamiliar a name to the diplomatic corps of Vandellia as some of the other countries sending emissaries to the inauguration. They had been trade partners of Mareyland, so there were many among the New Saints who had some experience doing business with, or at least related to, that country. That familiarity, coupled with Brettenwald's economic stature, made them similar to Asucki in the evaluations of the Foreign Ministry - a nation worth showing a slightly higher level of recognition in their reception.

With the Deputy Secretary of Foreign Affairs already committed to the Asuckian delegation, his immediate subordinate, the Assistant Deputy Secretary, was assigned to meet and Brettenwalders at the airport and ensure their smooth and quick transition to City Hall for the reception. The Assistant Deputy Secretary was a short man whose skin was a few shades darker than the complexion of most Vandellians, the physical heritage of the mixed-race family that had produced him.

"Welcome to Vandellia," he said as the foreign dignitaries descended from their plane. "My name is Willard Goodson, Assistant Deputy Secretary for Foreign Affairs. I've been sent by our Foreign Ministry to escort you to City Hall for the opening reception."

"Thank you, Secretary, it's a pleasure to meet you." Economic ties aside Brettenwald had tended to prefer interaction with Mareyland, as it did with the vast majority of the world, on its own terms. Not as insult, of course, but as part of a generally cautious approach to foreign cultures that put order and native traditions above undue shocks to the Brettain population at large.

"This may be a somewhat premature question, but will the Prophet be meeting with us at any point? I may subscribe to a decidedly different interpretation of Christianity, but I still have an academic sort of interest, curiosity, whatever you like regarding the New Saints Church", the Duke asked after a short time during the car ride.

[Vandellia]

Wine not being to his taste took the first glass of cider he could find and sipped cautiously. Grace was nearby, not so far as to discourage anyone from approaching but near enough to be on hand. With an open and practiced smile he accepted a little apprentice and held it in his free hand.

Dressed more for a day at a bank than a party Jack was aware his simple suit likely left him only a step above the servers in attire. Nonetheless everything about the New Saints seemed to appreciate simplicity. He would not try to engage past a smile and a passing greeting until the entrance announcements were complete. Knowing Grace would be taking careful note of the dignitaries Jack focused on the room. Watching the groups and who huddled around who. This would indicate who the power brokers would be in this country as it would anywhere else.

"Excuse me?"

The couple that approached Jack were a study in contrasts. The man was shorter than the woman, and seemed to be quite nervous. He had short, curly blond hair and large blue eyes. He was holding a glass of cider with a napkin in his hand, as if he was trying to avoid getting any condensation on his skin. The woman, on the other hand, was a tall, striking beauty with fiery red hair and green eyes the same color as her well filled-out dress. She was smiling eagerly at the foreigners.

"Jeremy Patchrett," the man said. "This is my wife, Celine. We were curious about the country you come from."

"Beric," Celine interjected. "Is it far from here? What is it like? I've never heard of it before."

Their grand entrance made, the Asuckians slowly drifted their way through the crowd and across the floor, taking note of seemingly important people as they went. Circles of conversation gathered around these figures, and Nathaniel wondered how many would in time evolve and morph into spheres of influence. Both Carrs accepted a drinks from a passing server, and continued onwards as they sipped them, taking care to note as they went which figures seemed worth striking up conversation with.

The announcement of a delegation from Asucki caught the attention of Benjamin Peerson, the man who Robert Matthews had appointed as his Secretary for Foreign Affairs. The selection of Peerson as the top diplomat for Vandellia was a product of his previous services to the Church and the Prophet: he had been the leader of several international missions which had garnered the New Saints a great many converts from beyond the borders of Mareyland. He was fluent in several languages and knowledgeable about foreign customs, making him an obvious choice for the post.

Peerson excused himself from his conversation and casually made his way across the reception hall, on an intercept course with Nathaniel Carr and his daughter. The Foreign Minister was hardly a striking figure – his clean-shaven face was nondescript, and his light brown hair was trimmed short. But he made a small gesture to get the Asuckians’ attention as he approached.

“Mister Carr, yes?” Benjamin Peerson closed the final gap to conversational distance with a slight smile. “Benjamin Peerson, Foreign Affairs Secretary.” He acknowledged Amanda with a nod of his head. “I was excited to learn that someone from Asucki would be in attendance. Let me say, on behalf of the President-elect, that we’re honored you would make the journey for his inauguration. I trust there were no issues with your arrival?”

"Tell me Mr. Wright, is Major-General the highest rank in your nation's military right now?"

He was interested in the polygamy evident there. This was not practiced commonly in Sombreland, though a form of concubinage was sometimes. He, himself, had a wife and children, and also a concubine, as many wealthy or high born men did. However, he did not stare at the women, giving them mostly just a glance. He was curious as well about the financier's wives displaying more of their attractiveness than appeared to be noble. Was this because he was a recent convert, or was it customary around the hub of power? He glanced at other women present to compare.

The three wives of David Harriman were definitely an outlier in the room. There were, on the whole, few women present at the event, besides those moving around the room bearing silver trays. There were a few women near the edges of the some of the clusters of conversation, typically conversing among themselves rather than participating with the men. They were dressed more conservatively than Harriman’s women. Occasionally, when one of them giggled loudly or otherwise drew attention, some of the other women in the room would glare at them. If this disapproval registered with the wives or their husband, they did not show it.

The count’s question regarding rank prompted Herbert Wright to get the attention of John Farson, indicating that one of the foreign guests had a question for him. The military officer tramped over and made his introductions.

“Commander John Farson,” he said to Count de Gode. “I’m told you had a military question?”

“The count was curious about rank,” Wright explained.

“Ah.” Farson paused for a moment, as if waiting for some tiny secretary in his mind to retrieve the necessary file from a cabinet. “Yes, the Prophet – the President, now, I suppose – was appointed as a Major General of militia, back when this was still part of Mareyland. It was a largely ceremonial role, until the troubles started. It’s the highest rank at the moment, but once the inauguration is over there will be some reforms. Things have been running provisionally for long enough. We’ll need a proper Army, not just the militia we have now.”

"Thank you, Secretary, it's a pleasure to meet you." Economic ties aside Brettenwald had tended to prefer interaction with Mareyland, as it did with the vast majority of the world, on its own terms. Not as insult, of course, but as part of a generally cautious approach to foreign cultures that put order and native traditions above undue shocks to the Brettain population at large.

"This may be a somewhat premature question, but will the Prophet be meeting with us at any point? I may subscribe to a decidedly different interpretation of Christianity, but I still have an academic sort of interest, curiosity, whatever you like regarding the New Saints Church", the Duke asked after a short time during the car ride.

"Yes, President Matthews will be holding a levee after the inauguration," Willard Goodson replied. "He's eager to meet all the foreign delegations that have arrived today. He would have liked to attend this prior reception, but of course there's much to do in preparation for the inauguration itself."

At City Hall, the Brettain dignitary was the immediate interest of Nathaniel Scudder, who sent one of the people around him to ask the Duke to come speak with him. Scudder had been on the fringe of the Mareyland Senate, but he had served on one or two committees where matters related to Brettenwald had come to his attention. He knew the nation had few points of similarity with either Mareyland or Vandellia, which made their appearance at this event an unexpected surprise. He was intensely curious to find out what angle this Duke might be pursuing.

"Lord Askinen," he said once the Brettain man had approached him. "Welcome to our city, and our Dominion. I must admit, I was not expecting any emissary from Brettenwald at the inauguration. But I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

[Beric]

"Excuse me?"
The couple that approached Jack were a study in contrasts. The man was shorter than the woman, and seemed to be quite nervous. He had short, curly blond hair and large blue eyes. He was holding a glass of cider with a napkin in his hand, as if he was trying to avoid getting any condensation on his skin. The woman, on the other hand, was a tall, striking beauty with fiery red hair and green eyes the same color as her well filled-out dress. She was smiling eagerly at the foreigners.
"Jeremy Patchrett," the man said. "This is my wife, Celine. We were curious about the country you come from."
"Beric," Celine interjected. "Is it far from here? What is it like? I've never heard of it before."

Turning from Jeremy to Celine and back again, Jack spread his arms in a small gesture meant to make him seem more open, and offered a light smile and started in, trying to remember to make eye contact with each as he spoke and Grace stepped back a little to be there if needed but not to intrude on the conversation.

“Jack, Lestor and pleasure to make your acquaintance. And I don’t blame you. Why if our size didn’t keep us off your radar our politics certainly would have. But, truly it is a lovely country where the mountains meet the sea in the Western most North Atlantic.

I dare say we are not known as the most cosmopolitan and those who know of us, do because they holiday there. Natural beauty is something we hold dear. Something I was pleased to see Vandellia has much of. Are you both from Vandellia originally? “

Feeling a bit better with some food in his stomach Jack was pivoting from his difficult flight and unsure of the social graces common to Vandellia asked the most innocent thing he could think of, careful not to stare at the red haired beauty, he kept his body turned slightly more to Jeremy while splitting the eye contact he made between them,

[Vandellia]

"Jack Lestor and pleasure to make your acquaintance. And I don’t blame you. Why if our size didn’t keep us off your radar our politics certainly would have. But, truly it is a lovely country where the mountains meet the sea in the Western most North Atlantic.

I dare say we are not known as the most cosmopolitan and those who know of us, do because they holiday there. Natural beauty is something we hold dear. Something I was pleased to see Vandellia has much of. Are you both from Vandellia originally?"

"Oh, the sea," Celine exhaled in a breathy voice and looked off into the distance, as if imagining the sight of the ocean. "It's the one thing I miss from home."

"We're from Midsomere, originally," Jeremy explained. "We heard missionaries from the Church preaching, and our eyes were opened."

"It all made so much sense," Celine interjected.

"We moved here with a few other convert families," Jeremy continued. "We'd been living here for a few years when the break with Mareyland happened. Now I work for the Department of Tithes."

"He has a knack for numbers," Celine said with evident pride.

Her husband showed a brief twinge of frustration at her latest interruption, but as quickly as it passed across his face it was gone. "Midsomere was losing a lot of its natural beauty to corporations, tearing up the earth for a quick profit. Here things are much more sensible - the Prophet understands how important it is to keep nature preserved."

Jeremy paused to take a sip from his glass, and his wife rushed into the open space of the conversation. "Are you just visiting for the inauguration? Or are you posted here as an ambassador?"

[Beric]

Snip

Nodding appreciatively as they spoke in turn, Jack took a moment before answering.

“No, no I fear my constituents would take issue with me leaving parliament during my term. Though I do believe my presence to be a precursor to a proper diplomatic declaration once the inauguration is complete and the government is no longer unofficial.”
Almost as an afterthought
“ Though I expect I would be asked to sit on any committee reviewing trade with Vandellia so I expect to be returning regularly. “
Jack left the portion that Mareyland itself never warranted a delegation due to its use of slavery. Not really dinner conversation he thought.
“I myself could not wait and watched the developments with Maryland carefully during the break. I was both pleased and surprised the conflict did not escalate and that peace could be found. I was admiring the countryside and city during my arrival and very impressed with how well organized it is. And back to what you said about nature. I could not agree with you more. “
Becoming slightly more energetic in his words Jack takes a quick sip of cider before continuing.
“It is so good to see a place where people are serious about how you develop your land. Our own troubles were not quick and I am afraid it took us several decades to repair the damage of our own corporations. It is all about balance isn’t it? We are more successful now for having left large portions of our land untouched than we could have been for stripping it and selling the parts. But I won’t bore you with the specifics but it took years to establish sustainable lumber harvesting.”
Exchanging his canape plate and empty glass for a fresh cider jack considered the implications for his career those committees held as he turned back.
“I imagine the department of Tithes must be under a lot of pressure with all the organization and planning that must have been going on in setting up sovereignty.”