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SR RP - DIPLOMATIC INITIATIVE (
Great Jenovah)
Following exclusive communications between the authorities of the Lennhân-Marxist Government of Beiguojia and the Patriarchal Government of the Peninsular Empire, the two nations have sworn to bluster diplomatic and economic ties going ahead with the emergence of shared geopolitical and ideological doctrine between the two estranged nations.
As part of both nation's struggle against the constructs and intuitions of man that sap the livelihood and well-being from the working class people, and the real threat of the Sahaldna Security Treaty Organization upon both of their doors; the Beiguojians with the main bulwark of democratic nations on East Osea and the Jenovachi's continued fight against the Flettish in Fusea, the People's Republic of Beiguojia and the Peninsular Empire are committed to the continued buildup of relations, trade, and militaries. Together, they may take a stand against the encroachment of illiberal democracies on their borders and jointly blossom against shared threats.
SR RP
Video clips being shared on SauMaoHUB™ show the infernos caused by Jenovachi airstrikes against targets across Flettish territory. Online discussion of the events have caused a rift amongst netizens, many of whom condemn the continued attacks on the nation already devastated by the Fusean Spring events which saw the annexation of most of the Flettish nation by Jenovachi forces. Rumors of forced migration some netizens call a genocide of the Flettish people, have prompted citizens to ask their government to condemn the Jenovachi Government. Special interests groups have been raising funds through online donations to give to refugees of the flettish crisis, buying medical supplies, food, water, portable lighting and cooking fuel.
Chairman Lieu's administration has yet to make comments regarding the renewed strikes against the Flettish people. Many netizens are continuing to ask when SSTO will liberate Fletteland and question if SSTO can actually keep its promises to it allies, many cry out that the republic joining SSTO as an observer state was the greatest mistake made my the administration. More conservative PMs have made rallying speeches calling for closer ties to the Republics long time ally Pandovska and suggest joining the League of the Willing. Netizens argue that the transition to the league would be beneficial to national security as Pandovska and the Republic have many joint military projects including the delivery of 6th generation fighter aircraft as well as heavy tank programs. Rumors of potential standardization of munition amongst league members would also benefit the Republic as munition is already standardized with those from Pandovska.
The Lieu Administration has made not comment on the state of foreign affairs. Chairman Lieu policy advocating for freedom of speech and improved democratic transparency will be tests as elections approach.
Great Jenovah, The Greenlandic North, Emnaria, Eternal Dominion, and 2 othersSolaria Alliance, and Pandovska
Civilians had begun fully organizing. Riots and protests in the street were beginning to grow ever more present. The situation in Sumoriant was beginning to spiral.
Sharaf sat in his office with his head in his hands, mentally unprepared to deal with such a crisis. For years, he had accepted the status quo of silence as normal, but now… now he had a choice to make: continue along the path he was, and risk being deposed or worse; or change strategies, and send out military forces to disperse the crowds and restore order to Sumoriant.
He opted for the latter.
~~~
Unknown military facility, southeast of Haijja
“Mahmoud, we've got word the Emir is preparing to send out the military forces to disperse the protesters out east.”
“All right. Send out a message to the Pandoskans. Now. Get them into Sumoriant.” Mahmoud ordered.
“Yes, sir.”
~~~~
Encrypted Message to the Pandoskan State - Sumori High Command Communiqué
On behalf of the Federation's High Command, Sumori forces unloyal to the Emir request for Pandoskan intervention in restoring stability to the Federation via forced removal of the monarchy by disguised Pandoskan forces acting as Sumori forces. We would, preferably, wish to see this carried out at some point in the near future, and will try to keep the Pandoskan State as updated as we can.
On that note, we should also mention that Sumori civilians are now fully in open rioting and protesting - which should allow for the perfect ground to see the Sumori royal family forcibly abdicate from power.
We will await your response patiently,
Sumori Anti El-Nazir Front - Office of the Sumori High Command - © 2024.
~~~~~~~~~~
Haijja, Sumoriant
Palace of the Emir
Sharaf sat in his office, the door firmly locked and guarded by two soldiers on the outside to prevent anyone entering.
Sharaf began to search endlessly for information, seeking to try to flee Haijja to somewhere else in the country, or outright flee Sumoriant with the royal family. The situation was now out of his control.
Jazaar knocked on the room.
“Enter.” Sharaf relayed to the soldiers.
"It's all coming down around me, Jazaar... is this the end?" Sharaf pondered.
Jazaar stayed silent for a moment.
"Sharaf... I have something I should tell you." Jazaar began.
"Oh?"
"I'm joining the military and civilians. I'm done fighting for your tyrannical regime. The age of Sumori monarchism is at an end. Sumoriant will be a free nation after you are gone, and I will make sure of that fact."
Sharaf stared at Jazaar, his eyes a combination of fear, confusion, and betrayal.
"Leave." Sharaf demanded. "F**k off."
Jazaar turned towards the door, but not before saying one final parting sentence.
"Goodbye, Sharaf. I'm sorry it had to come to this." Jazaar said, turning to leave the room.
Sharaf was left alone, with a series of emotions overwhelming him, but he could only manage one word.
"No..."
"No..."
"No…”
Just then, as Jazaar left, the two soldiers on the outside received confirmation from Pandoskan authorities to initiate the operation.
Bursting open the door, the two surrounded Sharaf, along with a barrage of others.
“In the name of the Sumori National Assembly and of the Zyfaqiri Federation, we have been ordered to forcibly remove you and your family from this Palace, Sharaf el-Nazir. Now, either come quietly, or we will not hesitate to use force.” one of the armed soldiers commanded.
“I… I… just… no…” Sharaf stuttered, being apprehended by the soldiers.
“Bravo Squad: Target secured. Sharaf el-Nazir en route to the drop-off location.” one soldier said, confirming the operation a success.
Sharaf looked feeble and worn down by the recent experiences and political upheavals across Sumoriant, and now, his fate hung in the air…
Awooooga
Minuda, 5 Kingdoms of Britannia, Great Jenovah, The Greenlandic North, and 3 othersEmnaria, Eternal Dominion, and Pandovska
SR:RP
Within the city of Cohorse sat once a Congress that housed the members that once made up The Cohorse Union. In it delegates sat upon curved benches, microphones dotting each seat so that whatever one was saying could be translated by the myriad of supporting staff hidden away in other rooms. Adjacent to each microphone was a simple four-keyed button: A yes, a no, an abstention, and a request. The curved benches warped around an elevated platform that rested against the back wall. On the platform stood a judicial bench, with the center desk housing the Chair of the Congress, a one Janker Lilenbach. To the right of the Chair sat a smaller desk where the reporter was seated; to the left of the Chair was an open podium and plaque holder. At once the Chair smacked his gavel upon the sound block, drawing the attention of all delegates to him.
“With order, on this date of the fifth of March, 2026, I call upon the official opening of the Congress of Cohorse, all rise for a brief moment of silence.”
At once, all delegates stood, as the whispering and paper shuffling died out. For thirty seconds the silence was deafening, only to be broken by the Chair’s words to “be seated.”
“The Unilyst Administration would like to thank you all, delegates of OSEAN, for attending. We will now take roll to confirm the list of delegates here.”
As Lilenbach took roll, the delegates were abuzz with activity- and uncertainty. Notes were passed, whispers were made, and despite the classy and flagrant attire of the room, the atmosphere was at most panicked. When the roll call was concluded, the delegates gathered themselves together, hopeful to provide the slimmer of hope necessary to save their alliance from what may become an all-out free-fall.
“Thank you all. Today you have been gathered here to discuss one thing and one thing alone, that is the position that OSEAN, and more aptly the OSU will provide to a post-OSEAN Mittelanea. Mittelanea withdrew from the alliance two weeks ago, but unlike other nations, is not entirely convinced that a complete withdrawal from the OSU markets is the way forward. Accordingly, we have called you here to address three primary concerns:
“The First concerns Mittelanea’s detachment of their Metalvian Dollar from the OSU. Originally set to a rate of 2:1, Mittelanea is no longer convinced that this exchange rate is both fair and true to current evaluations. Mittelanea desires cohesive advice from the OSEAN delegations on what the exchange rate should be, less Mittelanea decide the exchange rate by herself.
“The Second concerns the usage of the OSU entirely. The Unilyst Government has made clear that the OSU will no longer be Mittelanea’s only designated foreign reserve currency from which it is to be paid. It will no longer be legal tender within Mittelanea proper. However, to prevent the insolvency of OSU assets within Mittelanea and those abroad, Mittelanea is requesting a length of time determined by OSU to allow for the proper exchange of currency.
“The Third and final concern regards the positioning of the OSU Mint. Originally located in 
Waupun Island, the OSU Mint has been under alliance ownership for years. However, the Mint is no longer on OSU territory, and we have therefore deferred the decision to the fate of the Mint to this meeting. On behalf of the Waupunese Dominion, Mittelanea would like to be instructed as to the continued operations, or lack thereof, of the OSU Mint, and whether it is to be relocated in the short or long-term.
“With that being said, may the delegation from 
Greater Saint-Paul please take the podium to address the concerns of the Mittelanean government.”
Thus, as the delegation from GSP rose, it became clear there was no going back. From this point forward each member of OSEAN must prove to the Mittelaneans -and the world itself- that OSEAN is still fighting. For the next few hours they must prove that the past two weeks have only been a lapse in judgement, rather than a full-stop. For in the alternative there is no hope, no future. That the last act of an alliance once so great and powerful is the sputtering of machines, the likes of which will leave businesses so deep in the red that this day would surely go down in the books of history: For the OSU Crisis has finally begun.
thank you to this region for reelecting your delegate to his rightful post
WA Delegate at this point is a mere formality. The spot keeps ping-ponging around.
SR;RP
McKenzie International Airport, Canidae Harbour
The King was preparing for yet another trip to New Skullia, he sat at one of the airports many benches awaiting for the Executive plane to be brought from the hanger to the gate. Surrounding him were his personal guards and airport police, which seemed unnecessary considering the terminal was only used by government personnel and military.
The King was simply browsing his phone seeing what the weather in Queens Harbour was like until his ears perked up at the sound of a familiar voice.
"Of course you take the Executive plane and I'm stuck with a military cargo jet"
Premier Strovosky announced as he walked toward the King, there was no need for a pat down on Security Council members, the guards only needed to sniff a bit to ensure he had no weapon on him.
"Look on the brightside I hear those planes are extremely roomy" The King replied jokingly
"Not when your security detail and personal vehicle are traveling with you" Strovosky said with a bit of annoyance.
"Your off to the VSU(Vyerossia)?"
"Yea, hopefully I can get on their good side and score us a couple deals, we won't have to worry about invasion from the north and we'll gain a new trade partner"
"That's rather good although I never had a concern about them, the VSU has seemed like a peaceful nation, it's Emnaria and their new league allies to the south that is a concern to me"
The Premier sat down next to the King
"Yea its worrying to see an alliance with that much power stretch far away from its home shores, especially one that seems highly anti-communist, I worry for the safety of the Union"
"An attack on the Union is an attack on Canineia, a scenario me and every king before me have been preparing for since we gained our freedom. I have confidence we can hold off any threat that seeks to enslave or destroy our species, no matter what flag they fly"
"Overconfidence is a weakness your majesty"
"Don't worry it is not something we suffer from, I said I am confident not knowing. But that is a weakness we shall exploit from our enemies"
"Hm you always say the deepest things"
"You gain a lot of experience reading books"
As they were conversating an attendant came over to speak.
"Your Majesty the plane is ready for you"
"Thank you I will be right there"
The King stood up and so did the Premier
"Where are you off to then?" Strovosky asked
"New Skullia, the Walker is finally done I'm going to see its maiden voyage"
"Well good luck with that then"
"Thanks, good luck with the other communists" the King said with a small chuckle as he began to walk towards the gate.
Strovosky called after him
"Hey!"
The King turned around
"Long Live Canineia"
The King smiled as he stared back at him
"Long Live Canineia"
The Greenlandic North, Emnaria, Eternal Dominion, Solaria Alliance, and 3 othersFletteland, Merilian Plains, and Vyerossia
SR RP
To the Lennhân-Marxist Government of Beiguojia,
The Borun has heard your plea and met it with much consideration. If all that has been presented and promised by the government of East Beiguojia should our two nations forgive our past greviences and move on towards a new era of cooperation amongst us, the Borunate has no reason not to form a continuous relationship with Red Beiguojia.
In such, the aspiration of a positive relationship combined with the joint stand against the heathenistic forces of the Sahaldna Security Treaty Organization, who have done wrong to each nations and continue to stand in the way of our own perceived brighter futures, pushes the Borunate to go onward with the prospected agreement. There is much that stands against each individual nation on Strangereal, and to find solace in shared enemies is an endowment polar opposite neighbors irregularly share.
The Borunate can fufill the energy needs of the East Beiguojian Government and her industries, and then on. With the somewhat strained nature of our two nation's relationship, we hope that East Beiguojia stays honest and true to the agreement lest any complications, which would surely bring too waste the oil and natural gas infrastructure set to be built between the two nations. With the construction of an additional centrifugal pipeline through territories yet to be specifically deliberated, Borenial Oil can help keep the East Beiguojian machine slicked and prepared in its posturing against the false democratic government over the border.
Just as the People's Republic swears, the Borunate is open to a diplomatic and economic relationship amongst the two. Together they may stand against SSTO, each with their own footing.
-Saladin Yasen, Borenial Minister of Foreign Affairs
A party of twelve people rode on eleven horses. Driving hard and fast to escape the wintery onslaught, the horses galloped through the growing flood of snow that covered the open steppe. In the very center of the group, the Ketchenak Khan rode his horse with intensity, gripping its reins and pushing it further onward; great plumes of hot breath mixing with cold air emitted from the horses, their breathes heavy and deep, grunting as they never relented under the tightened grip of their owners through the snowy oblivion.
…
As smooth as the entire journey had been from its start, to the beginning of their adventure back towards the capital region, it quickly took a turn for the worse as they had instantaneously become enveloped in an early spring snowstorm as the temperature started to drop with the coming of night. Their tents outside and partly under the Amanbikaegh Gate became covered in a growing abyss of white, added onto as the wind picked up and started to slash across the vast steppe with its frigid iceyness; even ripping one tent out the ground and sending it to be plastered against the foundational pillar of the monument.
It continued to spiral as the Vu’duce came down with a cough, and then a fever in a matter of hours upon nightfall; with symptoms that came into full effect just as the full ire of the early spring snowstorm came into effect. He was coddled, wrapped up, and laid down underneath the Gate of Amanbikaegh on a propped up cot and told to rest as many of the men fell into quiet, panicked conversation on what to do next.
Costin, the Ketchenak [Future] Khan, rested on his knee, bent down to be by his father’s side. For now, the Vu’duce slept, his overly bushy and near-animated mustache and eyebrows moving softly as he instantly inhaled and exhaled. His skin was pale, and had the subtle glow of an in-creeping sweat. Costin sighed to himself and leaned up from his fathers side, taking one more second to study his face before turning his back to him.
Exiting the aura of his father, he took one step and reentered the hostile environment of his elder peers. They all sat closely huddled together around a small fire, each with their hands either tucked into their pockets or extended to be warmed by the flames. They continued their former conversation, still bickering amongst themselves on what the best route was for their situation. A couple argued for hunkering down and waiting, others fought to escape, while a select few wanted the military to come in to rescue them.
Costin found it hard to sit between the elders, both literally and figuratively. He pushed and scooted his way into the circle with the quiet grumbling of the two he sat between, and was irked by some of the logic presented by his countrymen. Wait, flee, or be rescued. The three words floated in his head as he floated in and out of the conversation at hand; tired and entranced by the warm flicker of the soon-smoldering fire. Soon, the option of crying wolf to the military was thrown out of the picture, each man knowing of the ancestral right and pride in the Ketchenak Khan’s journey and the drama that might create coming out of the knowledge of the dynastic family needing saving within their own open lands.
Costin warmed his hands on the fire and looked over his shoulder at his father, who remained asleep. The Ketchenak Khan stayed assured in his survival with the soft rise and settling of the Vu’duce’s stomach as he slept. In the silence between silences, Costin opened his mouth to speak but was spoken over by another; who merely looked over him as he continued to project his voice slightly louder before.
He slightly grumbled to himself and took a slow breath. Waiting for another opportunity, Costin said silently and patiently until the right time presented itself. Finally, the man of twenty five spoke to the men of sixty to eighty in even terms, a feat not seen before by Costin; always subservient to his father in the eyes of the oligarchs. “After hearing all arguments, I have decided.”
His simple words took all by surprise. Until then, he had barely been a part of the conversation, now he wanted to take charge. One elder opened their mouth to protest but immediately stammered, now spoken over by the younger Costin- his voice holding a sort of depth they had never heard before. A voice reminiscent of his fathers.
“Like buffalo, we must charge the storm.” Costin said, “Fleeing against the storm will extend our misery and continue my father’s suffering. If we drive hard and fast, considering we’re already enveloped in the storm, we should escape it quickest. I don’t believe we can stay here lest we truly become trapped.” He said with confidence, his eyes unyielding, hidden behind the reflection of the flames.
One man spoke to resist, but was stared down by another. Without haste, there was respect and understanding between the group. In this time of crisis, with Lucian down, his son Costin must step up. And so he did and with providence.
The group immediately readied for their journey braving the storm, some rapidly packing up knocked down tents, others readying and bringing over all the horses, while some did personal last checks and prepped themselves for the mental and physical challenge ahead. In a matter of fifteen minutes, the Gate of Amanbikaegh returned to the untouched state they met it at, with nothing more than a smoldering fire marking the appearance of the Ketchenak Khan to the monument.
He looked over his shoulder at the monument and felt the weight of his father press against his back. Slumped over and bundled up, with the blanket tied holding the two holding them together, the ill Vu’duce faded in and out of consciousness as the group eventually set off. Costin couldn’t help but look back at the monument’s intensive beauty, something exemplified by the arrival of an artistic snowy white to the gray and pale grasses of the steppe.
A beacon of quartz white, emergent from the white horizon, adorned with gold and the celestial visions that the people worship. Even for a nation of stone, life shone throughout the montone abyss. And trapped in the whirl of a snowstorm the steppe had never seemed more painted.
Costin rode valiantly, carrying everything he held with him in mind. Himself, the elders that he now rode in between and commanded as they traversed the foggy, never-ending snowy plain, and most importantly, his father, who he felt grab at his back inconsistently as he woke and fell from awareness with the galloping of the horse.
They pushed on and on, seemingly endless through the white void. Snow, in its greatest volume, fell from the heavens and soaked and weighed everything down, tiring the horses and the men that rode atop them as they braved the cold and growing wall of snow. Costin rode with his hand wowned around the reins tightly, transferring his stress through his glove onto the horse's rope and bit.
The wind whipped and muffled the words shouted amongst each other; directions fed by Costin and the lead man that determined the track of their course. Pushing into and out of the storm, they headed northwest, conveniently towards the capital region, their original destination, where they would eventually hit some city along the great open trek and if not reach the Chubvlai’s and the capital of Chan’Kogalnikeau. Snow stuck too and soaked the clothes of the party and the many blankets wrapped around the Vu’duce in an effort to keep him warm.
…
It went on forever, at one point Costin asking himself if he knew what he was really doing, and if he was really fit to serve, but quickly shook those thoughts out. Just as quick as it had arrived, the storm began to break and the great falling wall of snow started to fade into nothingness- back into the open white canvas of a post-snowstorm steppe. Still, the feeling of loss loomed over their heads.
Cold, wet, and hungry, they had rode throughout the early morning and endured the hellish conditions of the steppe.
The sun started to rise beyond the horizon, painting the black and dark blue sky with the early colors of the full-sun sky, a growing beacon of blue and a glare of white emerging from the trodden lands out beyond. It held the same sort of beauty the Gate of Amanbikaegh had, but without any of the humanistic qualities. Costin gazed out at its beauty, the horses fallen to a trodden.
He nudged at his fathers legs, waking him up from his tired and sickened sleep with a slight snort. The Vu’duce opened his tired eyes and looked at the sky.
The glare of the white light, with the crest of the sun just reaching up, blinding yet easy on the eye.
“Beautiful.” the Vu’duce remarked with a tired, raspy voice.
“Yeah.” Costin paused, still taken aback. “It’s beautiful.”
He felt his father’s weight shift, and his legs loosen off the side of the horse, as if drifting back to sleep. His head violently thumped against Costin’s back with dead weight, and his body started to slowly fall off the horse in the same direction. Costin’s heart jumped, and his head reached back to support his father.
His eyes enveloped in tears immediately. He wasn’t strong enough, and the weight of his burly father took both of them down off the horse, then tied together by the blanket wrapped around the Vu’duce to keep him warm. They plummeted straight off the horse and into the feet-high snow to the surprise and shock of the group around them.
Costin immediately scraped and clawed to his feet, unwrapping himself from the blanket as he was twisted in it as they fell. He clawed at the snow and rolled his father over from his position face-down and onto his back. His face was covered in snow, his eyes closed, and his expressions emotionless except the monotone stillness of a glimpse of a smile.
The Ketchenak Khan fell as quickly as he rose, dropping to his knees at his father’s side. Tears fell from his eyes freely. He had fought so hard, fighting to escape a destiny made at the Amanbikaegh Gate, all for nothing. He looked at his father’s gray face and hair. He couldn’t stop crying.
He wept over his dead father, until he couldn’t weep any more.
The Khan is dead, Long live the Khan.
…
On the back of the Khan, the dead Khan rests. With no coffin sworn, he himself will return the body to Chan’Kogalnikeau.
Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R9DoG95qlPM
die treasonous scum
Must be some backwater nation…
In a matter of minutes, the message has already been secretly copied, printed, and exchanged hands between multiple people who scan its brief and the message itself, quietly chatting amongst each other as interested and horrified equals. It is soon put into a clasp envelope and handed off to a superior and then on…
Five minutes after being intercepted, the message is already en route to its final destination. Tucked under the arm of an intelligence official, it is brought under the extensive government estate via a network of secret tunnels between them. It passes hundreds of people on its route from SIAM offices to the Capitol building until it eventually emerges out of a random door in the capitol basement…
Winding through the busy halls of the capitol, it eventually makes its way through two more security checks until it meets the final messenger at the door of the First Executive Office. It exchanges hands, and finally, it gets gracefully set onto the ‘Advisory Pile’ of the President’s large mahogany desk…
After thanking her, the President picks up the file…
His eyes trace each and every word of the document, the singular page feeling like a multi-page essay with every underlying promise and distinction laid out by the Communards. He can feel the featherness in his chest grow as he adjusts in his seat, shocked at what he’s reading. It grows and fades as he takes a deep breath in and out. His lip turns inward with anger, maddened by the continuous struggle.
His eyes finish the rest of the document, and fall back upon a certain phrase that glues itself onto his eyes and in his brain. He furls his brow and stares at it, fighting the urge to take and crumple the limp paper- “We seek to rip up and unravel the democratic government of Beiguojia and the influence of such allied nations from the region…”
Su relents, and closes the file, throwing it back onto the stack of which it was taken from. He rubs his tired, aging eyes and takes another deep breath. Considering his choices and the approach in which his state must eventually take from the emergence of the bolstered threat. Just as those who read it before him, his mind wandered into a dark reality in which the Red-Borunkogausean Relationship eclipses the shining light of the Provisional Federal Republic and her allies.
Another report would come, informing him of another Communard initiative, this time with the Peninsular Empire of Fusea, another enemy of the free world. His gut had seemingly fallen out of his stomach and onto the floor as he found it impossible to move at the sight of the same-scripted font; its words much more brief and evermore vague, with less to define their relationship, but all the more room for it to grow.
Su grabs both of the files and combines them, pitching it to the side of his desk for the time being. After some time, he buzzes in a handful of aides who take portions of his work away while another brings him a fresh cup of coffee. Within the cart-worth of legislature, bills, tax forms, diplomatic communications, and more, the intelligence articles are carefully packaged and eventually moved to a separate box at a sorting station.
Not long after, they are scanned and made into accessible electronic files, and eventually transferred from SIAM offices to the allied intelligence services of the Solarian Alliance and the Sahaldna Security Treaty Organization’s combined military infrastructure. By all accord, the Communist presence in East Osea looms like a band of savages amidst the territorial chaos. Seeking to draw from the illusions of cooperation and coalition with tyrants, the Communards will push onward towards the border.
On return to the military facility
“Target secured. Sharaf el-Nazir en route to the drop-off location.” the soldier relayed.
“Good, good. Bring him to us.” Mahmoud ordered through the radio.
“Affirmative.” the soldier responded.
The soldier flicked off the transponder.
“Never thought I'd see the day that I'd have the Emir of Sumoriant right in my hands. Feels so surreal.”
“You can imagine how I feel.” Sharaf answered coldly. “Who the hell ordered this? Who are you all?”
“Soldiers of the Sumori Armed Forces commanded to seize and arrest you and return to the High Command.” the soldier answered.
“The High Command? But they… Oh… those traitors…” Sharaf trailed off.
“I'm not permitted to say more than that, el-Nazir. I'm just ordered to take you to them. Whatever happens after that point is up to them.” the soldier tried to reassure Sharaf.
“Right.” Sharaf said in doubt.
The truck rumbled along the roads of Haijja for some time, being careful to avoid main paths and military checkpoints that had been recently set up. As the truck left the city, and proceeded into the desert along Highway 9, it came to a stop at what appeared to be an isolated, rusting metal facility just a few kilometers off the highway.
Coming to a stop at the front of the facility, the High Command waited with several armed guards on the left and right. The soldiers in the truck shoved Sharaf onto the sand, and shoved him to the High Command, before returning to the truck and driving off. Several soldiers emerged from the facility and surrounded Sharaf for safety. Mahmoud stepped forward.
“Sharaf el-Nazir. Some in Sumoriant would call you a force of stability. But a force of stability does not use his power to destroy what little freedoms the Sumori have left and bend his every will to the corporations within this country. Here is what is going to happen: you are going to be taken into police custody, put on trial, and then we will likely execute you.” Mahmoud blankly stated.
“So… all this ends with more blood.” Sharaf said. “All of Sumori history has been marked by blood. Is this how you want Sumoriant to remember me? A bloody wreck? Who will succeed me? My brother? Someone else? I am the most legitimate claimant to the throne!”
“There won't be a monarchy after you are gone.” Mahmoud said. “The Sumori monarchy shall be scattered to the wind after you. There will be no monarchy after you, Sharaf el-Nazir.”
“What? Are you crazy?! Who would… who would replace the monarchy?!” Sharaf exclaimed.
“That's up to the will of the people. After you are gone, the military will temporarily assume power to ensure a swift transition to a democratic republic.” Mahmoud said.
“So this is what it has come to… the clashing of the old and new ideals has finally seen the new win out. So be it. Zuraara help me…” Sharaf dejectedly responded. “Just take me away.”
“Well, you heard him. Take him to the Haijja Police. Get the military in wind of all this. Let's prepare for a trial.” Mahmoud commanded.
“Do I at least get an attorney to plead my case?” Sharaf asked.
“Of course. Even if we may hate you, we will still do everything in our power to make sure you are represented in the court of law.” Mahmoud assured Sharaf.
“Good to know our judicial values don't get trumped by politics.” Sharaf said.
~~~~~
Haijja, Sumoriant
Approximately 5 days after the arrest of Sharaf el-Nazir
Trial Day 1 - 9:30 AM
“Good morning. You may all be seated.” the judge ordered.
Everyone sat down.
“Sharaf el-Nazir. Whew. Not a name I expected to ever have in my courtroom. All right… Let's get started. You may begin with your statements.”
The statements proceeded, with Sharaf's case being pleaded innocent, and the government guilty, as expected.
Then, the evidence came.
“Please call forward the witnesses. Jazaar al-Hafez?”
“Your Honor.” Jazaar said, stepping up to the front.
“Please enter the booth. Place Mr. Al-Hafez under oath.” the judge ordered.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, so as to provide transparency to this Court?”
“I do.”
“Very well.” the judge said. “You may begin.”
“I first met Sharaf when he hired me for the position of Prime Minister of Sumoriant in 2013. Ever since then, as I integrated into the folds of government, I noticed Sharaf el-Nazir was, behind the backs of everyone, sending billions to the massive megacorporations of the Federation, causing a massive growth of inequality and other issues within the nation. During this time as well, the government seemingly was in a chokehold by the El-Nazir family, with the forces of the military not far behind as well. But, given the recent tensions within the country, it finally gave me a reason to reveal my true thoughts about Sharaf. Thank you.” Jazaar testified.
As Jazaar finished his strangely brief testimony, and returned to the witness bench, more witnesses gave their testimonies against or for Sharaf, and then evidence was presented to the court. The evidence was… overwhelmingly stacked against Sharaf.
“Has the jury come to a verdict?” the judge asked.
“We have. In the case of Emir Sharaf el-Nazir, we find the defendant guilty on all charges of treason and all associated crimes.” one of the jurors answered.
“Well then… Sharaf el-Nazir, you are to be sentenced to execution by firing squad in approximately 48 hours from the ruling of this court. Zuraara be with you.” the judge ruled, swinging the gavel down at last.
Sharaf was filled with horror and terror. He had known this was coming, but hearing it from a court of law felt so off-putting.
As the officers in the courtroom apprehended Sharaf and took him away to prepare for the execution in two days’ time, Sharaf looked at Jazaar with empty eyes, the sign of defeat clear to him.
The next two days would be hell for Sharaf…
~~~~~
2 days after the trial
Haijja Square
Noon
Sharaf was marched out to the middle of Haijja Square, with barricades along the borders to prevent civilians disrupting the inevitable execution.
Five soldiers stepped out from a building where the witnesses sat, with much of the El-Nazir family allowed to take part, despite their inevitable trauma from the situation. Jazaar sat in the witness booth as well, but got up to walk over to the executioner commanding the soldiers.
“I would like to go down there to say something to him. Train the cameras on me and get the audio.” Jazaar said.
“All right. Be quick, though. We got an execution to do here.” the executioner reluctantly agreed.
Jazaar walked quickly down to the Square and towards Sharaf and stood in front of him.
"You know, Sharaf, I hope that when we send you down to death, I hope I can kill you again in Hell." Jazaar concluded.
Sharaf remained firmly silent. He was a shadow of the man he once was, clothed in torn royal clothing, and with sad, baggy eyes that filled with fear and hatred. He stared into Jazaar's figure, ashamed to see this end in this way.
“I'm sorry, Sharaf.” Jazaar said, before briskly walking back to the witness booth.
“All right. We're ready.” the executioner said as Jazaar took his seat.
The soldiers aimed.
Sharaf fell.
The Tyrant of Sumoriant was dead.
The El-Nazir family let out a collective sob.
breh I've literally got a whole factbook
SR RP: OSU Crisis (Trial post)
-----
Around the afternoon, a civilian walked into their local Sumori gun store in Omīd to stock up on ammunition for the next potential bandit raid. OSU was his main source of legal tender in New Sumoriant- as was most peoples'. The Eternal Dominion was very lenient on how Seraph Samir and his council wanted to have New Sumoriant ran. Most of its policies and conditions were the initial ideas. So far, there was no issues with the OSU have been chosen. Well, it wasn't yesterday!
The customer was very confused when the price of OSU for a small box of twelve 9mm pistol rounds had skyrocketed and an option to pay with the Dominion's legal tender instead.
"What is the meaning of this!? The price want up at least three times the amount!"
"Sorry, sir. Have you seen the news? New Sumoriant is in a bit of a pickle after the OSU had just crashed."
"But... OSU is all I have."
The clerk just shrugged and shook his head, "Then you're S.O.L., friend. Good luck as lord knows you, me, and the rest of the world might need it."
SR RP:
**WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS DEPICTIONS OF GORE AND VIOLENCE. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED**
Tatsu Manor, Red Tree Clan.
April 9th, calendar year 1521.
Music for this portion of the post: Death Hymn — Lucas King (https://youtu.be/1y_b6hUXUrQ?si=eI7G4mhM-YB-cMeZ)
A strong, white light flickered six times through a second-story window, illuminating two figures engaged in a struggle within the confines of a dimly-lit hallway.
BOOOOOOOOM…
As soon as the figures were illuminated, the rolling thunder caused by the repeated strikes of negative lightning seemingly shook the walls of the large manor, and the figures were once again shrouded in the darkness of a nighttime storm. Any natural sunlight that would normally illuminate the interior via the large glass windows, were squandered by the thick cumulonimbus clouds, dumping a hefty rainfall onto the ground below. Through the muffling effect of the heavy patter of rain on the glass windows, the voice of a middle-aged man could be heard.
“HONEY, JUST GO! Nrgh—I’LL HOLD HER OFF!”
A second flash of lightning illuminates a third, more feminine figure backed against the wall at the end of the hallway, about a dozen meters away from the struggle. The man is slowly forced back a few steps by his attacker’s seemingly stronger arms, then shoved into an area illuminated by the amber light of an oil lamp. Being mindful to stay in the shadows, the assailant thrusts a long iron dagger into the chest of the man, watching his futile gasps for air, as his body falls backwards onto the wooden floor.
“DARLINGGGGG~!!!”
A woman’s shriek of horror is suddenly cut off by the rolling thunder shaking the manor once more. As the woman collapses to the ground, sobbing at what now was, the loud clacking of leather boots against the hardwood flooring is heard in a somewhat slow, but steady pattern. The woman’s eyes widened, and frantically darted in every direction within the nearly pitch-black hallway, each step sounding slightly louder and closer than the last. When it would seem that the attacker was within arms-reach of the woman, the clacking suddenly stopped. It was only the steady patter of rain against the windows, and her frantic breathing. Suddenly, a flicker of light captured her eye, as a match illuminated the attacker’s seemingly tanned hand, before lighting an oil lamp sat on a small table next to the wall. The assailant’s form then slowly came to be, as the flame within the oil lamp began to flicker and grow, until eventually their entire body was revealed to the terrified woman. What came to be was a taller female Foxsu, with mature and tan features. The feminine murderer sported long blonde hair, a dark grey tunic, and black pants, with both articles of clothing being heavily stained with fresh blood. In her right hand, bore a large iron dagger, covered in blood that was dripping onto the floor next to her.
“You know…” the voice of the assailant remarked in an oddly calm voice.
“…Your husband there didn’t have to die if he just signed the damn paper…”
The woman only returned a gaze of pure fear, as she looked into the almost glowing fiery-orange eyes of the killer.
“Y-Y-You…”
“…monster…”
The frightened woman finally stuttered out two words of accusation, before the other woman went on the offensive once more.
“Me? A monster?”
“Hah! Oh, please…”
“Such a dehumanizing term given that I have a name—Hailey.”
“…And even calling my personality that of a monster, as many before you have, would be an inaccurate accusation as well!”
“Compared to the deeds of this island, my own actions mark me as a paragon of virtue!”
An eerie smile creeped up onto the tan fox’s face, as she brought the dagger horizontally to her own mouth. Sticking out her tongue, she dragged the entire length of the flat-side of the blade against it, stopping at the tip. She then swiped the blade in the direction of the woman, splattering her in her own husband’s blood, as that same blood coated the fox's tongue and mouth, and slowly dripped down her chin, and onto the rest of her clothes. Taking a moment to swallow the liquid red life of what was, she continued to speak to the terrified woman.
“I simply do not understand why everyone calls me a ‘monster’.”
“I am merely a fan of using harsh means to ensure a trouble-free end!”
A small chuckle by Hailey permeated the silence left by the ending of her own speech. The woman, still wearing an expression of pure fear, is too frozen by it to move or speak. Instead, she only begins to hyperventilate with her mouth hung slightly agape.
“Oh come on!” Hailey remarked in a disappointed tone.
“…Even with that amazingly-executed impromptu performance, and refined sales-pitch, you still won’t bite?”
“Hmm…”
“…I’m starting to wonder if my sales-pitch is the issue, and not my choice of customer…”
“…” The tan fox mused for a moment, before shrugging her shoulders and continuing, shifting her tone to
“Eh, regardless…”
“With the chieftain currently dealt with, you’re the only other one I can ask to sign this contract so that we can all end things here amicably…”
Hailey reached into the waistline of her pants, and pulled out a small scroll, unraveling it to reveal a paper filled with a few paragraphs of writing, along with a signature and date line. Still too shocked to even speak, the woman silently looked down at her now shaking hands, which had splatters of her own husband’s blood on them, then back up at Hailey, who began speaking once more.
“As the wife of the damned chieftain here, you’ve gotta have a better backbone than this…”
“You know what, whatever.”
“I’m sick and tired of not getting ONE F*CKING IMPORTANT PERSON to sign my damn paper!”
“I just want ya damn signature, not ya soul!”
“…”
The blonde-haired fox sighed, before suddenly thrusting her dagger into the already agape mouth of the woman. The fox halted the blade’s movement just as the tip pierced the back of her throat. Hailey just watched as the woman gagged and gargled for air, as both of her hands grasped the sharpened edges of the dagger in an attempt to pull it out of her mouth. In the process, the woman sliced open her hands, coating the blade with her own blood. Hailey then thrusted the blade forward with enough force that the tip poked through the backside of her head, and pinned it to the wall like a dartboard. The woman’s body immediately went limp with the final thrust, as her hands fell off of the blade, and onto her lap. Hailey let go of the dagger, and it stayed put inside the woman’s mouth. She then lifted up her left foot, and kicked down the handle of her dagger, severely dislocating her jaw, causing it to hang open freely, parallel to her neck. Taking her dagger out of the woman’s head, she watched as the body slumped to the left, and blood began to spill out of the corpse’s open mouth.
“How hard is it to be nice and cordial these days…”
Hailey remarked in a voice stained with a tone of frustration. The fox turned on her heels, and began to walk away from the scene, before stopping in her tracks, and swiping the lit oil lamp onto the floor with her blade. The glass lamp shattered with a crash, and flammable oil puddled on the ground as the flame already inside the lamp immediately ignited it, along with the wooden floor around it. Hailey then sheathed her dagger, and swiftly made her escape from the scene, a blood-stained smirk encompassing her lower face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
New Fubuki Manor, Northern Sea Tribe.
April 9th, calendar year 1521.
Drizzling rain pattered against a glass window of a bedroom, as an elderly Foxsu woman sat on the edge of a large bed, next to a young Foxsu girl. The older Foxsu’s hair was shoulder-length, and an extremely faded greyish-cream colour, almost like it was blonde at one time, but lost nearly all of its pigment due to her old age. The younger Foxsu’s shoulder-length hair was a vibrant and healthy blonde colour, with forest green eyes matching the colour of the caring gaze by the older woman. Both women were wearing a nightgown, with the one on the older woman being light blue, and the one on the younger woman being white. The older woman speaks first, in a warm and caring voice.
“Roroa, let’s say that you and a group of friends are planning on how to make some money together…”
“…And each of your friends comes up with a plan that you have to approve or reject on how to move forward with making money.”
“The first friend who tells you their plan is confident in it, and you believe it is a very good plan…”
“Now, the question is: Do you immediately go with the plan of the first friend, or do you wait and see what the other friends might suggest with their plans?”
The younger girl pondered for a moment, the muffled pattering of the rain against the glass window being the only thing stating the silence left in the room by her thinking.
“Hmm…”
“…I believe the correct answer is that I should wait and see what the other friends have to say?”
Roroa looked up and met the warm gaze of the older woman with her curious one.
“Good job, dear!” The elder replied with a smile, as her right hand reached up, and slowly rubbed the top of the younger one’s head back and forth.
“Next question: What did Kyo Itano state about blood and leadership?”
Roroa pondered once more, her blonde fox-like ears slowly folding down against the top of her head, until suddenly popping back up as she spoke.
“I believe he stated that ‘blood shouldn’t be spilled unless absolutely necessary, since blood never sleeps’.”
The young girl once again looked up at the older woman, who gave another warm smile and more pats on her head in confirmation.
“That would be correct, dear!” The elder spoke.
“Alright, last question before I let you off to bed…”
She paused, inhaling as if to speak again, but instead of words coming out, a sudden coughing fit overtook her ability to speak. She quickly turned away from Roroa, and coughed into her hand, then grabbed a handkerchief from the nightstand next to her, and continued coughing into that. After half a minute of coughing, the fit subsided, leaving a worried Roroa in its stead.
“Everything okay, grandma Cathrine?” She asked with eyes swirling with concern.
The elder looked at the white handkerchief, which now has splotches of red blood on it. She wiped her mouth clean of any potential blood, and turned back to face Roroa.
“Yes, dear, grandma is fine. I just had something stuck in my throat is all…” she put on a similar warm smile that she had given previously in an attempt to mask her pain. Roroa’s face soon looked relieved, seemingly buying this story as the Cathrine’s mind began to wander.
Music for this portion of the post: Glamorous Adagio — Southern Backtones (https://youtu.be/d9KK9IzCQj4?si=dxVsX_hK4WrKBh4p)
“It seems that medication isn’t working…”
“I doubt there’s much the doctors can do anymore. The Gods have deemed my time to be near…”
“…I just need to last long enough to hand over a stable Northern Sea Tribe to Roroa…”
“…”
“…Is such a thing even possible with my daughter running amuck in the southwest?”
“At this point, I’m not really sure as she’s rapidly expanding the Black Cat Tribe to be the dominant power among the Katsu race.”
“…As much as I like my Woltsu friends to the west, I do hope that my daughter looks north towards them, and not east towards us…”
“…”
“…Hahahaha…”
“…Always leaving your mother out to clean up after yourself, aren’t you?”
“Your want of killing me might actually come true, if your stress is to get to me before this illness does…”
“…I’m not sure what all I did to deserve such a demon of a child like you, but now I am left to reap what I have apparently sown…”
“I guess the one thing I can be thankful to you for is the fact that you left me a lovely heir in the form of your own child…”
“…I know nothing about you is normal, but I hope that I can prepare your child as well as I can for the coming times, given my old age…”
“…I’m 72 for the Gods’ sake…”
“…I should be living out my final days in leisure somewhere out in the countryside…”
“…and not stuck here taking care of my daughter’s mistakes…”
“‘Thou who sows evil upon the world shall reap not its benefits, but its consequences’…Or something like that, right?”
The elder let out an audible sigh, before she made her thoughts known to not just herself.
“You’re free to go to bed now, dear…”
“Grandma’s throat is bothering her, and it’s hard for her to talk…”
The child leaned to her left, and wrapped her arms around the torso of Cathrine. The elder reciprocated in kind, before clearing her throat and speaking once more.
“Thank you dear, now goodnight…”
Roroa slowly let go of her grandmother, before pushing herself off of the bed, and onto the floor. She took a few steps towards the door, before turning around and flashing a beaming smile towards the elder.
“Mmhmm! Goodnight!” Her cheery demeanor left a more real, slight smile on even the inwardly exhausted Cathrine, as she left the room and closed the door quietly behind her. After a few moments, the elder sighed once more, as the smile slowly faded away into a more tired expression.
“…Haaaaaaaah…”
“…By the Gods’, whoever I was in my past life must’ve been a real *sshole…”
“…Because man…hahaha…”
“…I cannot escape the hardship of Hailey's actions even in my old age and comfortable position…”
“Well…”
“…I guess all I can do now is make sure this little one grows into a strong young lady…”
“…For the sake of the people, right?”
“…”
“…I really do hope that silver wolf gets the guidance she needs in order to ensure the safety of the islands from that daughter of mine…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Music for this portion of the post: Isotopic Shift — Pyromed (https://youtu.be/zgXHKo_K8RQ?si=eTC2pmrPiC_IJ7Ea)
Tetsuo Manor, Razor Ear Clan.
April 11th, calendar year 1521.
Inside a large, stately room, two powers stood opposing each other—One elderly Woltsu gentleman, and one middle-aged Woltsu woman. The air was stiff, almost palpable, as the tension between the two figures was very present within their auras. The first to break the silence to their inherent staring contest was the elderly Woltsu man, whose short, somewhat thin hair was a pure-white with age. His wolf-like tale was also pure-white, as were his wolf-like ears, who reflected a slightly pink-ish tone off of them due to the thinness of fur there.
“…Forgive me, Mrs. Kotake, but I must sit for the duration of our meeting. My body is not as well-equipped as my mind is anymore…” the old man’s voice trembled slightly, but wore a tone of confidence, as he sat down on an ornate, padded wooden chair positioned a few steps above the floor.
“…All is good, Mr. Tetsuo,” the woman replied, her taller, and more slimly-built stature commanding a presence all on its own.
“…Eventually I may even end up in that same situation. All depends on how the wind blows…”
The old man smirked, and let out a subtle laugh.
“That it does…” his voice trailed off, pausing for a moment to regain his serious demeanor.
“…But I assume that you coming here to personally speak to me has greater implications than just to lighten my mood?”
Mrs. Kotake also assumed a more serious demeanor, shifting her weight to one-side as her dark red wolf-like tail swished idly.
“You would be correct in that notion,” the woman replied, fixing a bit of her long, dark red hair that had fallen into her face.
“Getting straight to the point, I’m sure you are already aware of changing political situations south of the mountains…”
“…And given that, I would like to propose something…”
“…A sort of…friendship between our two territories…”
“I do believe such to be necessary, due to the given circumstances caused by the hungry eyes of a certain blonde fox, who is currently peering over the mountains.”
“…It is not better to have friends at your back in this time of need?”
The elderly wolf took in a deep breath and sighed, musing about the proposition for a moment before replying.
“Mmmmm…”
“…What do you suppose this friendship includes?”
The dark red wolf’s tone became a bit lighter as she replied, as if being relieved that the elder was merely entertaining this idea of hers.
“Ah, yes…”
“…At its core, it would be a mutual defense pact…”
“She comes after you? We bolster your defenses. She comes after us? You bolster our defenses.”
“…It’s very hard to get into the mind of an individual such as that blonde fox, but I can assure you that she will not enjoy the prospect of sitting idly once she has south of the mountains under her control. Someone like her, although extremely mentally perturbed as she is, is extremely ambitious, and intelligent in her wishes…”
Mr. Tetsuo leaned back in his chair, resting the back of his head against the tall back of the chair. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing out a sigh of seemingly relief. He then straightened his posture slightly, and opened his eyes once again before speaking.
“…On behalf of the entire Razor Ear Clan, I accept your proposal for an alliance between our two territories.”
He paused for a moment, seemingly musing on how to continue, as he watched the other wolf become slightly surprised at his quick agreement of her proposal.
“Over the past month, we have detained multiple suspicious individuals who we believe to be her spies that attempted to cross the border into our territory from the mountains. Who knows how many did actually slip past our screening…” he continued.
“Due to the current situation of their own borders, it’s very difficult to get our own spies past their screening.”
“…Haaaaaaaaah…” the elder sighed.
“As if I didn’t already have enough to worry about at this old age with my idiot son about to succeed me when my time comes…”
The dark red wolf raised her eyebrows for a moment, before replying.
“Mmmm…”
“Is it truly that bad?”
“Can’t you have your nephew succeed you?”
“While that would be a good compromise…” Mr. Tetsuo began.
“…My son has too many favors with those who hold power here…”
“…If I were to name my nephew as my successor, I am quite certain that my son and his arrogance would tear this clan apart as soon as I die…”
“Quite unfortunate…” The dark red wolf commented.
“Indeed…” The elder continued.
“…I just hope that your daughter can keep him in check…”
Mrs. Kotake raised her eyebrows once more, her dark red, wolf-like ears twitching at the mentioning of a certain someone.
“Oh~?”
“What do you imply Maru to do?”
The white wolf took in a deep breath and sighed.
“It’s not so much implying her to do…”
“It’s more-so just…preparing her for what is to come.”
“Once my son comes to power, his ambition will become unchecked.”
“I know not what will come of it, but I do know that the political situation will differ from how it is now.”
“Whether the Young Lady—Excuse me, I keep forgetting that she is no longer the sweet and ever-curious child she was when we first met,” he cleared his throat before continuing.
“Whether Ms. Matoimaru chooses to remain passive at this change, or become proactive to combat it is not my decision to make…”
“…But as I have realized over my 85 years on this island, change waits for no one…”
“It will come whether you will it to, or not. These are my words of caution to you.”
The dark red wolf furrowed her brow for a moment, and sighed.
“This kind of seems like you are dumping the responsibility onto us to control your son,” she remarked in a tone slightly stained with annoyance.
The elder’s expression turned slightly solemn, as he extended his arm out towards the other wolf, and held up his palm to her, as if motioning her to cease speaking.
“…I realize that such may be the case, and for that I do apologize…” He spoke with a voice pierced with regret.
“…One of my greatest failings—Among many, I will admit—is failing to properly educate my son on how to not be arrogant…”
“I will not ask for your pity, nor forgiveness, as I deserve neither,” he paused, retracting his arm back to his chair. His gaze slowly wandered up towards the ceiling of the large room, as he continued to speak.
“…I am not long for this world…”
“I know not how long I have left, but I know it cannot be long…”
“…And once Ambriel comes down, and brings me to my wife, I cannot guarantee the sanctity of the leadership of this clan.”
Mrs. Kotake let out a somewhat frustrated sigh, before speaking.
“If war comes to our land, I assume that you have other people besides your son who will take up command?”
The elder lowered his gaze back onto the dark red wolf before him, and focused on her.
“If I am still alive, then yes…”
“However, if I have joined my wife before conflict arises, then I know not what will happen there. I know some of the military commanders oppose him, but they are not the ones at the top.”
“Mmmmm…” the female chieftain mused.
“…A complicated situation we find ourselves in, yes…”
“…”
“…I’ll tell Maru of what we spoke about, and I will save my personal reservations, considering we do not have a choice but to deal with it when it comes.”
The Austro-German Reichswehr has announced that the XKM-150 “Crossbolt” air defense system has been officially adopted after a lengthy period of low volume service that ironed out any and all teething problems with the new system. In spite of global economic instability, acquisitions will proceed regardless as funding for the acquisition phase had been saved up for over five fiscal years of its low volume service period. As such, the OHL has designated it the “KM-150”, and lodged an initial order for replacements of the KM-110 “Avenger” air defense system, with an initial order of 3,000 launchers and 25,000 missiles, expecting a minimum service life for the new system of approximately 55 years.
Along with this, the Austro-Germanic Union has opened up stocks of the old KM-23 Hawk air defense systems for sale on the market, already securing deals. 
Emnaria has had a purchase request of 300 launchers, while the 
Rynese Empire has put forward a deal for 200 launchers and 1,000 missiles. Both have been authorized by the Austro-German Government.
With rising tensions in the Saldanha far exceeding thresholds for a response, The Imperial Federation has seen no choice but to reinforce its Osean holdings against what can be seen as a major wave of instability within the Bay. As such, it has authorized reinforcements to both Tongan East Osea, KR Nord-Osea, and the Kiatschou Bucht Concessions. Crossbolt Air Defense Systems are to be dispatched to these areas, along with HLU Saturn-M Systems. Numbering Sixty-Five (65 Systems being dispatched between both KR Nord-Osien and Tongan East Osea, along with fourty HLU-750 “Saturn M” system, these reinforcements are to secure the airspace of Imperial territories for the foreseeable future. Dispatching to Tongan East Osea is a carrier strike group with a pair Light Carriers, a Battleship, and their cruiser and destroyer escorts to ensure its security for a period of six months before it is to be withdrawn or have this dispatch order extended.
Lungha, 5 Kingdoms of Britannia, The Greenlandic North, Emnaria, and 1 otherPandovska
SR RP
The situation was deteriorating at an ever increasing rate. Despite opening the door for both league and SSTO bases this had lead to heated talks. What should have been a set of productive talks turned into a questioning of the kingdoms place within SSTO. Things began to escalate with pressure for the most part coming from SSTO demanding the kingdoms truly picks a “side”. This lead to the kingdoms pushing back aggressively outlining how their position within the league was for far eastern security while SSTO was for spreading freedom and containing gothic influence. When SSTO official stated openly that despite the league democratisation they always see the league as authoritarian threat to globe democracy.
It was that butter clenching stupid line that sore Emily, the deputy prime minster of the kingdoms explode. Screaming at the SSTO official who said that, explaining in creative terms how stupid they were for having such a view and what they were on the verge of throwing away. As the league was a far eastern power that cared little for SSTO Osea position, and that the kingdoms had slowly, with great effort had begun to tease the league away from the goths sphere. Yet if SSTO kept irritating and escalating the league would begin to treat them as a threat. That combine with doubt already thrown on SSTO ability to resit gothic power with its defeat in flettland, growing size and power of the SC, and general weakness or distance of most of SSTO member states Emily stated that SSTO was in no position to make demands of her or her nation.
Perhaps it was curses, insults or the truth of her message that would see even the most aggressive SSTO official backed down. Though that meeting to confirm were the bases would be and in what number had failed horribly, a more agreeable SSTO delegate from the 
Eternal Dominion was still willing to talk. With the kingdoms acting as a middle man between the 
The Austro-Germanic Union, which was becoming quite understandable irritated with deal after deal with SSTO being shot down, and the Eternal Dominion. The kingdoms goals from what followed was to get some form of concreate agreement between the League and SSTO, with the kingdoms so annoyed with the aggressive nature of 
Solaria Alliance they would be left out of these talks.
The two initial points were easy enough for all to agree neither side wanted to risk an full blown League SSTO conflict. After all the League wished to focus on its own far eastern possession, new members and the leaving of Great Jenovah, while SSTO was trying to both support the 
Fletteland rump state, its intervention in 
Merilian Plains, the expanding gothic threat within Osea and further abroad. Neither alliance was in a great position to make enemies out of each other. The next point was a freezing of the Wardency Civil war, as neither side could spare the resources to assist any side in that conflict, nor had the political will to care for it currently. The next major line item was no SSTO bases within the Kingdoms Useona territory, though the Kingdoms and the Dominion was open to such bases the Germens stated this as a red line, as such bases would threaten both them and league control in the far east as a whole. Such bases were described as being a knife at their throat. Yet after much wearing down the Germens would allow for SSTO bases in Kingdom fusea territory and would not stop a Fletteland Liberation. The finally sticking point was Merilla.
Wardency and SSTO as a whole wanted their democratic faction to win while the league had given some backing to the Cadeits had favoured them and a warlord or two for their own benefit. Neither side seemed to wanted to yield, and the kingdoms offer of a league draw down in Merilla for an SSTO withdraw from Wardency was denied by both sides a middle ground was reached. Both sides would swear to keep the proxy war within the Merilla state as was with neither sides proxy given the strength or permission to strike outside of Merilla. With a later more open conference to determine a more detailed agreement upon this issue. With the deal good enough for both sides the Germens would official propose the deal publicly with Eternal Dominion and Kingdoms backing it.
The response was questioned by a few members of the league, seeing the deal as leaving much to be desired but perhaps good enough. It was the SSTO reaction that doomed the deal. Despite Kingdom and Dominion approval Solaria, Merilla (democratic faction), and the Fletteland rump state would fiercely deny the deal. Shutting down any vote or further conversation upon this deal. When Emily found off she would demand an expulsion of Solarian diplomats from the kingdoms and an ending of the Fletteland support. It was here Prime Minster Taylor would calm nerves and tensions by countering those orders. Instead the kingdoms would publicly express its disappoint but once again push for bases in its Fusean lands by both SSTO and League forces.
Diplomacy aside the kingdoms military was gearing up, each week sore further and further fresh equipment from APCs, to Paladin class Jet fighters exit factories. The smaller internal war games was also ironing out some of the deficit in training that had occurred with the massive expansion of the kingdoms armed forces. With kingdom military infrastructure being expanded to fight in the north of fusea a long war at both land, sea and air the south of the contient was seeing a slightly different build out. Despite the communist threat to the north of Nyumbani and F.I.D. it was seen as a secondary threat due to its recent conquest and rapid expansion. Threats were more likely to come from a Gothic aligned fleet of aircraft, surface ships and or submarines. This would see in the southern parts of both crown colonies an expansion of existing naval and air bases. With new air bases and expanded AA systems starting construction.
Overall the kingdom despite growing tension with allies, growing stress within both Nyumbani and Hancconia crown colonies, the kingdoms position was improving. With the deal with the Slevennic Union (
Yemet) ensuring the Raj southern front was secure, with perhaps if the kingdoms plays its cards right a new ally to contain the Northern Regional threat.
SR;RP
To whomever this may concern,
In response to British calls for foreign military bases in its Fusean Territories the Directorate of Defence has been tasked with constructing a Joint Base in British territory.
It should be mentioned that a Joint Base in Canineian terms involves a base used by two or more branches of the Royal Canine Defence Forces. In this case we wish to construct a base of operations in an area with coastal accsess for Naval Assets as well as enough space for an Airfield for Air Assets, in addition to any other buildings that need to be constructed.
We understand if there are no suitable plots of land to build on and will adjust accordingly depending on the area.
The operations on this base will be as follows [NOTE: This is highly confidential information that requires destruction after it has been read]
Provide support and forward operating capabilities to Canineian forces within the Fusea continent.
Protect Canineian shipping interests in the Erinevo and Cascade Oceans.
Protect Canineians living in British or Fusean Territory.
Construction will soon begin after agreement however should any issues arise please do not be afraid to contact the Directorate of Defence or Directorate of Foreign Affairs and Trade.
We eagerly await your response.
With regards,
Pluto O'Funnell
Director of Defence
Oskarheim, 5 Kingdoms of Britannia, The Greenlandic North, Emnaria, and 1 otherUtociste-Zeme
SR RP
“Okhabik”
Very roughly translating to ”Confluence of Waves”, the name slowly came into its own as the new city began to be built from the ground up. Placed on the upper part of the Yazline peninsula, the city would become one of supreme governance and outreach between the two brotherly states; sandwiched between the absolute domains of the Borun and the Kacci on the tertiary hills that define its temperate border.
With its position on the thin strip of land connecting the two nations, Okhabik was in prime position to become a sight of mutual cooperation and coordination, with Thelenassian and Hignausean culture and government power coming to a confluence upon the Yazlinen hills that descend from the Lemnautepi mountains. While historically the region had been an intermediary kingdom between the two nations in the form of the Tsoline Kings, the heterogeneous nature of the area made for favorable land and open society for the amalgamation of multiple influences from across the coast of Indo-East Osea. There, Okhabik could become the place where nationalities fade and the identity of Borunkogausean could clearly take hold.
Construction continued as normal upon its many deadlines, with the capital entering early development with the laying of grand foundations, transforming the empty and grass-laiden fields of the Yazlinen peninsula to a twisted network of asphalt and concrete. Roads soon stretched for miles across the abandoned fields, with earthworks happening all around- cementing the base of many structures, from the white concrete flower beds, to ceremonial monuments, and eventually the larger government buildings of the capital apparatus.
As the early pillars of the buildings of government began to be set up, the Borun had received and then responded to the plea of the East Beiguojians. Now, with an oil deal secure and the East Beiguojians at least somewhat dependent on Thelenassy for its population’s energy needs, the Brotherly union could share a sigh of relief. In the planning and development of Okhabik, the possible threat of East Beiguojia over the thin and otherwise flat land connecting the brotherly states became evident. But, with them now in the periphery as a possible extension against the forces of the inner Sahaldna, Borunkogausea could focus its geopolitical concerns elsewhere for the time being.
In this, it hopes to continue expanding its naval range across the Emerald, and with the recent recommitment to ties between the Thelenassian Borun and the Yerganan Emperor, the Peninsular Fusean nation was in a key location to massively extend its naval capabilities. As such, the Borun would dispatch another message to Fusea, offering to lease a portion of land on the Usnakatlisvipa Islands as well as possibly along the Seraphic Dominion’s southern coast for a considerable amount of money for a 50 year lease.
It was equally decided to build a new naval base a few kilometers from the new capital city, even though an existing base operates some fifty miles away. The new base will be a sight of fast response craft as well as house a slim minority of the Borun’s supreme navy and her larger, more well-versed naval warships. It would be an officially designated Borunkogausean base, which would openly vie for the housing of allied ships in resolute defense of the absolute states of East Osea.
"Are we ready to go live?" Jazaar asked.
"Yeah. You sure you don't want the teleprompter?" the reporter asked.
"Yes. I can handle myself on live television." Jazaar assured the reporter.
"All right. Action in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1."
"Greetings, to both the people of Sumoriant, and to those of you across the world who may witness this broadcast.
It was not that long ago that Emir Sharaf el-Nazir met his end by execution, and our Armed Forces assumed command of the nation. In turn, together in cooperation with the Sumori Armed Forces, I, Jazaar al-Hafez, declare myself Acting President until an election placed on the 29th of March, 2024, later this month, and the subsequent dissolution of the Zyfaqiri Federation of Sumoriant with its replacement being known as the United Republic of Sumoriant.
Stay safe, Sumori, and long live the Republic."
Jazaar sat back in the chair as the broadcast ended. He had a large job ahead of him.
A large job was... an understatement.
SR RP
Following continued diplomatic communication between the Borun and the Emperor, Emperor Dejene Hassan of Luru has agreed to the leasing of territories on the Usnakatlisvipa Islands as well as along the southern coast within Garnara. Yergana sees it as the next evolution of the two nation's growing military coordination, a logical step after the signing of the Arjidtemini Agreement just less than a year ago, which standardized Emerald affairs and founded a basis of cooperation between the two.
The Thelenassian bases are to be naval focused but are allowed to create the infrastructure needed for supplying and tailoring out the other forces of the Borenial Armed Forces. Within the private diplomatic discussion, Emperor Dejene raised the possibilities of military-technological advancement and sharing as part of a recurring military deal, which was met with viable enthusiasm by the Thelenassian Borun.
Nonetheless with the establishment of Borenial bases on Yerganan soil, an expectation for vice-versa was put forth, with Yergana hoping to open its first bases on East Osea to abed the fight against democratic idiocracy within the next five years.
The Second Constitutional Convention has Started. Elected Representatives from All over the Nation work to appease those who voted them In. Of the Countless Debates one in particular seems to be the Hardest to deal with. The Powers of The Emperor. Most do not want the Emperor to be reduced to a figurehead as the Imperial family has existed and Ruled over them for over eighty thousand years if the count the Ancestors Empire. They compromise as the Emperor Himself Wants a Democratic Republic not a Monarchy.
The Emperor looks to the Convention holding a hand up. “I am Honored so many think highly of me but even I have made mistakes. If you truly do not know what to do… Then How about this. I will have no Say in Lawmaking, Military, Or Internal Affairs.” There is a silence waiting for him to speak. “My Family will Serve as a Ceremonial Monarch with no Governmental power except for We Will Represent Our Nation in Diplomatic Ventures. Of course this will only work with a Kristan Approved Diplomatic Attaches.”
The representatives agree and the next Order of business is started. Military Reform. As the Military will no longer be Run By the Emperor it will be regulated By The Kristan but with mostly Autonomy unless It Violates what the Narag Considered War Crimes.
The Final order of business Is the Constitution.
The Second Constitutional Convention.
We the Esteemed Representatives do hereby list our desires For the New Republic.
Article I:
The First Republic Shall Be Split into Three Branchs.
Article Ia: The Executive Branch: The Consul Rules For Life, However, The Kristan May Remove them With a Two Thirds Majority of Both Houses In the Event He or She has Violated The Law.
The Consul may oppose a Bill twice before the Kristan may pass it without His Signature.
The Consul is in charge of Foreign Diplomacy And Ensuring the Constitution is Protected.
Article 1b: The Kristan(senate) :The Kristan is The Legislative Branch and is in Charge of Declarations of War, Lawmaking, And Budget Making. A
All Laws signed must adhere To the Constitution.
Article 1c: The Supreme Court:
The National Supreme Court is in Charge of Ensuring All Laws Are Constitutional.
The Supreme Court Decision may not be Appealed without a proper trial.
Article 2. Rights of the people.
The People shall have the following rights:
Freedom of Speech, Right of assembly, Right to Own Any weapon, Right to a Duel of Honor, Right of Freedom to religious persecution, Right to Trial By Jury, Right to Freedom of Breeding(Free to marry outside of race.).,
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