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[TWI-Only] [IC] In the Dark

Where nations come together and discuss matters of varying degrees of importance. [In character]
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Uprea
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Posts: 184
Founded: Sep 09, 2021
New York Times Democracy

[TWI-Only] [IC] In the Dark

Postby Uprea » Wed Sep 28, 2022 2:47 am

In the Dark RP

IC / OOC


To say it with the words of Ainslie:
This roleplay is for members of THE WESTERN ISLES ONLY. If you are not on the map, you cannot participate in this roleplay. However, if you are about to come onto the map feel free to speak up in the OOC thread (this one) but please stay out of the IC thread until you become a member.


Intro




28th of September 2022
Port of San Leon


Thick, grey clouds covered the sky and one could sense the imminent thunderstorm rolling in from the sea. The whole day had been an on and off of heavy rain showers, parts of the giant tropical depression system that had caused all this bad weather. Big puddles of rainwater that had formed on the asphalt of the marina, told the tale of rain that seemed to have fallen sideways, as the wind had blown it all over the place. The waves on the sea carrying white crowns of salty foam would cause even the experienced seaman to rather stay on land, instead of maneuvering his ship through the storm, being tossed around by the waves.

The "Maria Catalina" was neither an especially big ship, nor rather small. It was decent sized and was mainly used for agricultural exports. Its big corn and wheat tanks were able to hold enormous amounts of crop destined for the international market. Claudio was a simple sailor on board the "Cata", as it was named by its crew. Aboard, the ship had taken him halfway across the globe and back, his travels and his stories seemed to fill more than a lifetime despite him being just 48. He had experienced frosty blizzards and tropical sunshine, huge monster waves and times were the ocean seemed as flat as a mirror. Today was nothing new to him, but all the times in the rain still had not made him like it more. No, he still hated it.

The crew was just finishing up loading up the ship, which was set to leave in 30 minutes. This thunderstorm had already delayed their departure by almost two hours. The wheat they were carrying today, was boarded by a crane which carried a giant tube through which the crop entered into the ships belly. The tube connected a giant tank on the mainland with the ships tank, the crane was just for stability. Claudio stood on top of the ships tank and opened the heavy metal hatch that previously locked the tank. Small raindrops started to fall on his back, marking the beginning of the next rain period. When the crane swung over the tube, Claudio and one of colleagues grabbed it and pressed it on the hatch. With a metallic click the tube was locked in place and Claudio raised his thumbs to the crane driver, symbolizing to him, the ship was ready to take on the crop. With a rushing sound the crop entered the ships tank.

The rain drops started to get more frequent and the wind started to pick up. A load alarm sound alerted Claudio, the tank was now full. With the pull of a lever the tube sprung out of its locked position and the crane swung back over to the mainland side. As he looked into the open hatch, Claudio noticed small particles rising up in the air coming from the tank. Interested Claudio looked into the open hatch. From the hatch to the crop was about a meter of air left, which was standard procedure to not fill the tank to the brim. In the air between the hatch and the crop swarmed thousands of small particles. Now that he looked more closely, the crop sort of seemed kind of off. Some, Claudio could tell, had black spots all over them and the whole thing reeked of a moldering stench.
The rain and wind had picked up even more and was now gushing into Claudios face, to the point he had to wipe his beard and face every now and then to even see clearly. The horn of the ship sounded loudly, which caused Claudio to turn to the mainland. The Port Crew had thrown over the rope securities already causing the ship to drift away from the marina and into open sea. As Claudio turned to the hatch again, one of his colleagues had already closed it. Giving thumbs up to the bridge the ships horn sounded again. Dismissing his concerns, the ship headed off, straight into the dark clouds.
Last edited by Uprea on Wed Sep 28, 2022 2:49 am, edited 1 time in total.
As everything here is fictional. Statements made do NOT represent my IRL views.

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Najimam
Bureaucrat
 
Posts: 62
Founded: Sep 12, 2022
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Najimam » Mon Oct 03, 2022 2:36 pm

4th of October
Port of Radin

Another very busy and cold morning in the port of Radin, located in the southern shore of Najimam, specifically in the Qanaa region that is famous for agribusiness. Ships are coming in and out every couple of minutes. Khalid Rahman, a Najimam Customs officer, has been under a lot of stress and pressure these past few weeks. Last month the port of Radin increased its capacity by 40% allowing more ships to come in, and customs procedures have been eased to save more time and money in import and export operations. The problem is that customs officers are now understaffed and required to work many more hours than usual, thus creating a state of frustration and nervousness. Another problem is that the new customs procedures rely more on the overworked officer's quick judgment rather than documentation and Qualified Through Verification System.

9am comes by, Khalid was hard at work when he sees a familiar ship appearing from the foggy horizon. It's the "Maria Catalina" coming with big corn and wheat tanks from San Leon. As soon as the ship docks the crew steps out for some fresh air while the captain, Claudio, goes to see his friend Khalid. The latter orders the stevedores to start unloading the merchandise.

"It's been a while, Khalid! How are you?",says Claudio with a big smile on his face, "I missed coming to Najimam, and I missed your dad jokes. How about you tell me one for the sake of the old days?"
Khalid laughs and replies with a tired look: "So glad to see you again Claudio, I wish I could take a few minutes to chat with you but I'm dealing with a lot of work right now. Here's your paperwork and don't forget your signature. Take sometime to enjoy Radin and don't forget to take some Kaltamar coffee while you're at it. You're someone I trust so I'll just mark the imports as safe to make it quick, I'm really struggling here!"
At that moment, Claudio had a horrible gut feeling remembering what he saw before "Cata" sailed. He wanted to tell Khalid about what is on his mind but the customs officer was already on his way to see another ship. Claudio quickly convinced himself that it was nothing out of the ordinary and went to check on his crew and get ready to leave in order to get to their next destination on time.

By 3pm, 100 containers of wheat were ready to go by trucks to the Samartab Agricultural Group main warehouse. It is standard procedure to send free samples to some farmers in Qanaa to try the product and hear their opinion before commercialization. One of them is Ayman Harit, the owner of a small farm who noticed unusual small particles, some black spots and a strong smell. He tought that it was a normal wheat disease and put the sample aside, planning to report his findings in a few days. His assistant, Walid Fahami, later came on and stored the sample with the rest of the wheat thinking it was a new product arrival without paying much attention. The young man also took some of it to feed the rabbits jumping from field to field.
Later that day, a Samartab docker loaded some of the stored wheat in a truck to send it to the factory. A weird smell was coming from it but he couldn't care less, he needs to be done as soon as possible.

Ayman was a bit worried about what he found in the sample and decided to contact the other farmers who got it too the next day. He went to bed, having a good night sleep.
Proud member of The Western Isles.

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Wellsia
Envoy
 
Posts: 286
Founded: Jul 18, 2016
Father Knows Best State

Postby Wellsia » Mon Oct 03, 2022 10:02 pm

Port of Malaka, Kibru Saddaiu, Ispanyha, Wellsia.

Rimush had been a cargo inspector for nearly 10 years and had so far maintained a perfect record. The port of Malaka was a major transit port with ships arriving from all over the isles and to either drop off or pick up cargo. The bulk freighter was from Uprea and according to the manifest was loaded with fodder made from, wheat, maize and barley stalks. He looked down into the hold and except for a little settling seemed to be a full load. He almost immediately noticed a stench of mold rising into the air. He thought about rejecting the load as tainted, looking at his watch, it was near quitting time and he had a date with Shashen, the new clerk in the shipping office, oh well it wasn't like it was for human consumption, a little mold wouldn't be a big thing for cattle feed, not to mention the paper work would take hours.. Taking his radio he called to the operator overhead. "Baaz, it looks clear, and Uprea has some of the best quality control in the Isles. Let's unload it into Silo 5 for now."
"Hey Boss, we were suppose to unload Silo 3 into a Laeden freighter in the morning, We can off load straight to her with this load, and the rest we can dump into a Costavozka and can finish filling her from Silo 5 in the morning. This will save the port and the ships a lot of cost, what do you say."
"Fodders fodder, lets do it."
Rimush was already thinking of Shashsen and a pleasent evening, as he exited the freighter, overhead the huge bucket elevator lowered into the hold.

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Kuwarkiistan
Lobbyist
 
Posts: 12
Founded: Aug 08, 2022
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Kuwarkiistan » Wed Oct 05, 2022 8:00 pm

October 5th
Port of Bakul, Kuwarkiistan

Outside of the port of Bakul waits a grain ship arriving from San Leon. The ship pulls into the port and unloads its grain. As the grain is emptied into the port, a worker on the ship notices a bad smell coming from the grain. On closer inspection, he notices particles coming off the grain as it's emptied into the port, thinking that it wasn't a big deal he ignores it. When this ship is finished unloading its product into the port, it is placed into trucks and transferred to a processing facility.
When it arrives a worker notices something weird looking about the grain. On closer inspection, he notices black spots, some particles floating around, and bad smell coming off of it. He keeps this information to himself as it's the end of the day and doesnt want to disturb anyone when everyone wants to get home quickly.
When he gets home, he talks to his wife and says,
"Something weird happened at work. I noticed something off about the grain arriving here from San Leon,"
"Don't worry about it. It's probably nothing," she replies. As he falls asleep, he thinks about what could have possibly been making the grain smell so bad.

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Costavozka
Bureaucrat
 
Posts: 45
Founded: May 17, 2022
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Costavozka » Wed Oct 05, 2022 8:11 pm

6th of October 2022
6:32 PM, Local Time
Port of New Edevar
Foreign Imports Pier No. 13


It was Kurtis's final week on the job, nearing the end of his shift. He had been a Chief Dockyard Inspector for the Costavozkan Border Protection Service for around twelve years now- with around twenty years of prior service. A perfect record- above it, even. He had not only caught illegal imports and the occasional stowaway but also had assisted in several arrests of smugglers. Tired, he looked at the list of ships he had yet to complete before his shift was up. There was only one, which had just pulled in. He looked at the manifest. The Oceanic Voyager had travelled from Malaka, Wellsia, carrying grain originally from Uprea. This was her final stop for the week, prior to repairs. He knew the ship well, as well as her crew. Kurtis also knew that Uprea's quality control was high. He wanted out of here as soon as possible. He tapped his replacement- Hugh, a new member of the CBPS- on the shoulder. As he turned around, Kurtis informed his replacement that he wanted to wrap things up as soon as possible.

"I'm headed to the office, going to fill out the paperwork for this thing. Radio me if you find anything off. You got this."

Hugh nodded, as he was passed the ship's manifest.

"Sure thing, boss."

As Kurtis departed, Hugh looked in the hold. An ill-timed sneeze made the scent of mold ever so slightly fainter in Hugh's nose. He looked at the manifest. Grain from Uprea, to be used as cattle feed. He considered radioing his boss, but he knew a little mold never hurt cattle. It's not like people were going to eat it. He also knew that two dockyard inspectors before him- one from Uprea, the other from Wellsia- had signed off on this grain. He thought it must've been just a bit of lingering mold on the inside of the hold. Turning on his flashlight to see better, sure enough, there was a tad bit on the grain itself, but most seemed to be on the hold itself. It seemed that his suspicion was right. He turned on his radio.

"Hey, boss, we've got a bit of mold on the inside of the hold. There is some on the grain, though, although it is significantly less than the bit on the hold."

Hugh heard his boss sigh over the radio.

"Anything else?"

"Negative, sir."

"Grain is from Uprea, correct?"

"Yes, sir. Cattle feed grain from Uprea, via Wellsia. Two signatures, as standard."

"Alright, then. A little mold on cattle feed grain never hurt anyone. Get it unloaded, then get back here and file an improper maintenance report."

"Yes, sir." Hugh switched his channel. "Attention all Pier 13 channels- Oceanic Voyager is go for unload. Begin operations"

The dockyard crane began to move into position, as did the trucks. As the claw of the crane was lowered, Hugh departed the ship, ready to file a report and clock out.
|| The Truth of Costavozka: October 29, 2022: MOST RECENT ARTICLE | Mobilization Status: Partial, Precautionary | War Alert: VERY HIGH | Ministry of Transportation announces creation of national airline- Air Costavozka- to start operations in Fall 2022. | Situation in Jergia stabilizes. | Temperatures to remain in 12°C -- 15°C this week; drop to -7°C -- 1°C range by early November. ||

A Puppet Nation of Mirum
This Nation Does Not Represent My Views
NS STATS ARE NON-CANON!
Yes, This Nation Is Based Off Of Arstotzka From The Video Game Papers Please.

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Uprea
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 184
Founded: Sep 09, 2021
New York Times Democracy

Postby Uprea » Sat Oct 08, 2022 8:49 am

08th of October 2022, 5.49am Local Time,
Port Lesrell, Federal Republic of Uprea
Silo 12, Agricultural Imports


Teo Ruiz made his way over to the pier, where the Oceanic Voyager just recently unloaded part of her cargo into Silo 12 before making its way off to Wellsia and Costavozka. This import was just part of several imports that came from San Leon. Although the country was small, it exported its precious grain all over the Western Isles. This year was no different than what happened every year around fall time. Several silos in Port Lesrell where full of grain from San Leon.

The foggy fall morning obstructed his view as his footsteps echoed through the misty air. Here and there, a puddle of water in the asphalt of the pier told the tale of the bad weather that finally passed through yesterday. A blue shimmer coming from the horizon announced the start of a beautiful day filled with sunshine. Through the fog, the silhouette of the silo started to make it through to Teo. His first task of the morning was reloading the grain in into the trucks, that were already waiting by the silo.

As Teo reached the Silo the lights of the trucks shone through the fog, as they reflected off the millions of tiny water particles in the air. On his checklist he saw that the border control had marked a few points on the quality of the grain. Mold had been detected in parts of the grain, but it was still cleared for shipment, as the grain was not meant for human consumption. A little mold would not be a problem for the animals to digest.
Setting himself up in the remote-control unit of the silos he sat his steaming coffee cup beside himself. The first truck reeved its engine and made its way underneath the silo. With a press of a button the hatch underneath it opened, and grain poured into the tank of the truck.

As the truck was filled to its capacity, the truck left for Upreas main industrial city Gecuse.
As everything here is fictional. Statements made do NOT represent my IRL views.

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Uprea
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 184
Founded: Sep 09, 2021
New York Times Democracy

Postby Uprea » Sat Oct 29, 2022 4:52 am

29th of October 2022, 13.23pm Local Time,
Seturres, Federal Republic of Uprea
Guimares Farm, Field 3


Francesco made his way over to the field No. 3 when he saw the particles flying through the air. Almost like dust or pollen, the tiny particles were blown away from the field with the wind. Field Number 3 wasnt the only one, Francesco had noticed the unknown and weird looking particles on almost every field he had been to today. It worried him quite a bit when he first saw them and scared him even more when he saw the black spots on many of his crops. An increasing stench came from the plants and the otherwise green leaves, looked weak and sick.
His Pick-Up Truck left a trail of dust behind him on the road, as the car hurried over the dry dirt road. The sun warmed up the air and the cloudless sky promised good weather for the coming days as well. Next to him was his son Tiago, who was soon going to take over the farm as Francesco was ready to finally settle down after almost 45 years of running the farm like a tight ship.
"What do you think it is, some sort of bug?", Tiago asked looking outside as the tall maize plants rushed along the window.
"I dont know. In all my years I have never seen anything like it. But it is something. Its definitely something. The plants have never looked so sick and colorless. I opened one of the corn cobs yesterday and it was nothing but black sludge that was dripping onto the floor. Gives me the chills when I see these weird pollen things flying around across the fields. I heard from Antonio and from Diogo, they both reported the same thing. Its everywhere."
"May have ruined our entire yield this year."
"Dont say something like that boy! Whatever this is, its a curse is what it is."
"You know thats nonsense. Its probably just some bug we have to spray a couple times. We should report it though. Cant risk losing...", Tiago stopped knowing he should jinx what he had already said in front of his father.
"Probably yeah your right. I will talk to the Ministry tomorrow, have them sent somebody down here. The fact we can see it everywhere is something they might want to look into."
As everything here is fictional. Statements made do NOT represent my IRL views.

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Najimam
Bureaucrat
 
Posts: 62
Founded: Sep 12, 2022
Psychotic Dictatorship

November 2nd, Radin agricultural fields, 7am local time

Postby Najimam » Wed Nov 02, 2022 12:38 pm

It's that time of the year again for Rami Bennacer, an amateur photographer, to capture some breathtaking shots of the Radin fields in hopes to get his work shown in the Najibab Art Gallery. He goes at the top of a hill, sets up the right aperture, shutter speed, ISO and waits for the right moment to come. The rest is magic.

Looking through the viewfinder, he feels that something is different, something is wrong. The fields are unusually depressing. The crops have this inexplicable color he always recognizes, the color of death. Did he start to see the dark side of things? Is he losing his artistic spirit? Or did something horrible happen here? All these questions came to his mind with no definite answer. A few seconds later, a man came out of his farm with the saddest face he has ever seen. The melancholic but phenomenal scene came to a completion in his eyes and he, without any hesitation, clicked the shutter button.

Walid Fahami, in all his years working as an assistant in this farm, has never been sad like he is now. All he can do is sit and watch the fields he always loved get rotten. The owner, Ayman Harit, was sent along with other farmers of the area to work on vertical farming tests in Mojtahid. Fahami really doesn't know what to do, even his agricultural sciences degree didn't help him at all figure out what this is. He tried everything in vain. Harit told him to try the treatment his friend recommended but still nothing. He has never seen something like this before, the crops are slowly dying and the small particles are intensifying. Other workers in neighboring farms are looking worried, confused and just as sad.

Another hour comes by, and Fahami had enough. He grabs the phone and calls the agricultural regional office. The latter said that they will send two agricultural scientists tomorrow. Fahami was hoping for today, he hangs up angrily.

Right at that moment, the shutter button clicked again. "Pure anger emerging out of sadness, exactly what I needed." said Bennacer while putting his camera back in his bag.
"It looks like we are... In The Dark..."
Proud member of The Western Isles.

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Costavozka
Bureaucrat
 
Posts: 45
Founded: May 17, 2022
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Costavozka » Fri Nov 04, 2022 6:52 pm

4th of November 2022
6:21 AM, Local Time
Ozlowel, Zlamond Province
Delanox Farm, Field No. 4


The Delanox Farm had been in Alexi's family for generations, surviving trial after trial. The winter of 1840. The First and Second Costavozkan Revolutions. The Imperial War. The Great Drought of 1991. Yet Alexi Delanox had a bad feeling about this one, for reasons he couldn’t understand. As he walked through the rows of blighted, wilting, and withering crops- now covered by tarps- he wondered if this was the final one. The final trial, the nail in the coffin for his family farm. He had no idea what this dark blight was, but he knew what it wasn’t. It wasn’t bugs or vermin— they couldn’t do this damage. As for fungus or virus, Alexi had never seen anything like it before, so it couldn't possibly be that. There was this nuclear plant that had an incident back in June, but it couldn't possibly be that. The government had assured the populace that there was no major radiation leak, plus that was too long ago for the effects to be showing up just now, and New Edevar wasn't that close. He initially thought it could be something in the water, but it just didn't add up. He didn't know what else to do. Alexi had already reported it to the government, and when they picked up the phone, he had been asked his theory on it, of which he stated his water and virus theories, but expressed his doubts. They noted his concerns and said they'd get someone sent to his field within two to seven days, due to the relatively high number of calls coming in. It wasn't too surprising, seeing as the corporate farm down the road was also suffering from the same thing. Sighing, Alexi just stood there for another minute, before departing. He started his harvester, parked in the barely touched Field 3, and attempted to salvage what was left of his ruined harvest.
|| The Truth of Costavozka: October 29, 2022: MOST RECENT ARTICLE | Mobilization Status: Partial, Precautionary | War Alert: VERY HIGH | Ministry of Transportation announces creation of national airline- Air Costavozka- to start operations in Fall 2022. | Situation in Jergia stabilizes. | Temperatures to remain in 12°C -- 15°C this week; drop to -7°C -- 1°C range by early November. ||

A Puppet Nation of Mirum
This Nation Does Not Represent My Views
NS STATS ARE NON-CANON!
Yes, This Nation Is Based Off Of Arstotzka From The Video Game Papers Please.

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Khe Teyaca
Political Columnist
 
Posts: 3
Founded: Aug 30, 2022
Father Knows Best State

Postby Khe Teyaca » Sat Nov 05, 2022 12:14 am

5th of November 2022
10:11 PM
Aslet Kha, the Federation of Khe Teyaca
A Small, Unnamed Farm


A constant knocking of wood against metal, the incessant drone of a worklight's lightbulb long needing to be replaced. With an audibly tired groan Semel shifted the final crate of flax into position on the back of the truck, glancing around eyes barely open for the spare straps to tie it down. Wiping the sweat from his brow he angrily kicked the box before hopping off the back of the trailer, rooting through his pocket for the key to start the worn out truck. The whole damned field coated in that dust, it felt like. For a mercy it only appeared to be on a select few kinds of crops but with how quickly it appeared to spread that wasn't much to be reassured by. Wasn't insects, wasn't rot that he knew, but it was more than enough cause for concern with how many sickly brown and weak plants mingled among the apparently healthy others. It had rained quite a bit more than normal the last few weeks, and right around that then was the first time anyone had noticed the sooty black specks lurking in the crevices and coatings of the plants, dancing along the wind when disturbed like some kind of hellborne snow. The thought of an entire field, multiple fields, hell even the whole farm harvest being all for nothing because of the blight made Semel's head spin, yet another setback to an already at best mediocre year. But this late at night the only thing he could muster up the energy to care about was a quick shower and collapsing into his bed after another grueling 13 hour day. Maybe in the morning he'd go it into town and see if anyone else learned something new. Maybe track down Asen and see if the drunkard could remember the last new thing he brought in.

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Valhapia
Secretary
 
Posts: 36
Founded: Oct 10, 2022
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Valhapia » Sat Nov 05, 2022 1:56 pm

27th of October 2022, 1:34 PM local time
Stormang, Wesnia Province, Republic of Valhapia

Stormang, the capital of Valhapia's southernmost province. The "Jewel of Valhapian Trade," known for its massive seaport. Said seaport bustled with ships and people at every time of day, and this day was no exception. Huge container ships were being loaded and unloaded by massive cranes, their products being shipped throughout Valhapia.

One of these ships was the Sea Warrior, a Valhapian-registered ship coming into port with grain from Uprea. This grain was intended for animal consumption, which meant it was under far less scrutiny than grain intended for human consumption. This grain had passed the customs checks, performed by tired, bored, and very lax customs inspectors, and had been approved for transport. This grain would be used as animal feed, and its spores would begin to contaminate other crops along the way.

5th of November 2022, 11:16 AM local time
Nervic, Wesnia Province, Republic of Valhapia

Berd Norgran walked along his small field, his concern growing with every step. His corn harvest had not gone well this year. It looked like some grain disease had infected his crops, as they wilted to a sickly brown. Odd particles blew around the crops in the wind. He decided to grab a cob of it from a diseased stalk, ripping off the husk. The kernels were a diseased greyish yellow, and when he broke it open, the cob oozed black sludge. He threw it down in both fear and revulsion. This wasn't anything like the normal sort of diseases that he had encountered as a farmer. This looked like something new, something dangerous. He couldn't even feed his animals, as the shipment that arrived was also diseased, with black spots and the same odd particles.

What do I do?

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Imago
Political Columnist
 
Posts: 4
Founded: Oct 10, 2022
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Port of Slicaster, Drus [November 7th, 7:41 p.m.]

Postby Imago » Mon Nov 07, 2022 7:48 pm

The port of Slicaster was always busy, as it was Imago's largest port. Though it wasn't Drus's capital, it was the state's largest city. A ship carrying grain from San Leon docked and began to unload its cargo. A few workers noticed an odd smell, but they thought it might just be something else.

The grain was then taken to a processing facility. Upon inspection, some workers noticed black particles coming from it, and it was definitely the source of the smell. They weren't so sure it was just mold, but they were a bit rushed, so they ignored it.

Eventually, the grain was taken to silos and factories. Soon, grain from San Leon would be shipped all across Drus, the state most of Imago's farms and fields were in.
Last edited by Imago on Mon Nov 07, 2022 7:55 pm, edited 1 time in total.


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