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News: Let us make the whole region resound with the song of We Are The Happiest People in NationStates.

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1
Games / Re: Last to post wins
« Last post by Lindisfarne on September 05, 2018, 09:12:45 PM »
Indeed, however...
2
Games / Re: Last to post wins
« Last post by Delfos on September 04, 2018, 06:27:14 PM »
Yeah, I Won!

Again, this contest is very contested.
3
Games / Re: Last to post wins
« Last post by Red Mones on September 03, 2018, 12:31:49 AM »
Yeah, I Won!
4
Introductions / Re: No longer INWU Ambassador
« Last post by El Fiji Grande on August 22, 2018, 11:41:39 PM »
.
5
Games / Re: Last to post wins
« Last post by Delfos on August 06, 2018, 03:48:35 PM »
But I DO!  ;)

Congratz, you won. No, wait...scratch that
6
Games / Re: Last to post wins
« Last post by Lindisfarne on August 04, 2018, 09:16:25 PM »
But I DO!  ;)
7
Games / Re: Last to post wins
« Last post by Red Mones on August 02, 2018, 05:57:32 PM »
DOn't even think about it!
8
Modern Era Fiction / Re: A Time For Days Past [2009]
« Last post by Letonna on June 13, 2018, 05:45:24 PM »
Imperial District, Letonnasburg, letonna
July 23rd, 2009 1:30 pm



“This has me worried.” I whispered aloud. Nobody but the royal guard could hear or see my concern. It’s bad enough I get summoned here on my sons birthday, but by the wolf queen herself. Last time she summoned me, she lured me out to the balcony and almost threw me off. And all I had done was delay a infrastructure grant.

I checked my watch. 1:35pm. She said she’s be here at 1:20. I look at one of the guards, who returned my gaze with a scowl. I sighed, and adjusted my suit cuffs.

“Damn I’m dying for a smoke here…” i said aloud once more.

I reached into my suit pocket and fiddled with the wrinkled pack of Menthol Neutrian-Slims. They are all natural. Supposedly better for you. Don’t have all those additives in them.

“You light that cigarette and you’ll be shot.” An ice cold voice said from behind me.

I spun around, dropping the cigarette and my lighter.

“Mu-My Lady.”

“Smoking has been outlawed in government facilities since I took rein Governor. You should know better.” She said, ending with a razor sharp grin.

“Yes, yes of course. My apologies my Lady.”

“Come, walk with me John.”

She never used first names. She was strictly a title only kind of ruler. This is most unsettling. I really need that smoke now. We left the meeting room, and walked down the gold and red hall to the southern wing.

“Sorry to make you miss your son's birthday, but I needed to discuss something with you rather urgently.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble. I live to serve the crown.”

“Yes, well I just want you to know family values are not lost on me even though I hold such a position. I missed Yevels birthday last year when the market first started to tank. I was stuck in the situation room all day and night. He hasn’t let me forget it.” she said while staring ahead.

“Yes, my son is about his age. I told him I’d take him to the local Fun Arena when i get back.”

This was most unsettling. I’ve never seen her act so human with kind emotions. Granted, she still has a scowl on her face, but this was never a conversation I thought I’d be having.

We reached the southern wing, and walked into the cartography hall. Along the walls lie historical maps of the continental region. Some Myrorian, Ozian, Neustrian. Made from papyrus, cloth, hide and faded paper. Helgla sat down at the head of a large oval table. She slid a large satellite map of Helmit Prefecture across the table. My prefecture.

I grabbed the map and straightened it out in front of me. She had circled various parts of the mountainous shelf along the waters. I looked at her, my gaze signifying my confusion.

“Gold, John.” she said, flatly.

My brow wrinkled.

“Yes, I am aware of what is there My lady. Your father outlawed any surveying and mining in the 80’s to protect the Neustrian Tribal lands.”

“I know John.” She said through a long sigh.

“The Mining Guild has been up my ass about it. Not to mention the Senate. They think we could reverse your prefectures slumping economy and unemployment by opening up mining rights. They think the jobs and our cut from the Guild will give the region the boost it needs.”

“Er, yes. But the Tribes will never go for it. They have ancestors dating back 1000 years buried there. And the money they get from tourism and the ski resorts is worth more to them than any Guild cut.”

“Yeah, I thought the same.”

She got up and walked over to a large 10ft by 10ft mural of the Yew’Ipathi Tribal lands map, made entirely of deer hide. Her left hand caressed some fur sticking through the crudely stitched map.

“I met with them last week. They vocalized similar concerns to me. You see it’s very difficult to negotiate. I don’t have the power my father did. The Senate and the Ministry of Minority Affairs would handle this sort of thing. They would think of me as a messenger with a crown. I need someone in the system to spearhead this. I need your help.”

My heart was pounding so hard the blood vessels in my eye were twitching.

‘How could I be of help M’Lady?”

“The Tribe agreed to surrender any rights to the shelf in exchange for 55% of the greater Helmit Prefecture. Mostly the temperate farming regions and the road ways leading to letonnasburg.”

I coughed loudly as my tongue slid to the back of my throat.

“What?! They can’t be serious! That's where the main populations and urban centers are.This can’t be!. It’s all Letonese there. They can’t even begin to think they will be welcome.”

“See John, this is where it’s tough. They want reservation status to all that area. They want the tax breaks, the income, and the developing privilege you so boldly give to all your chummy corporate friends.”

“Surely you can have them settle somewhere else. What about up north in Si-Faulm Prefecture??”

“You and me know that's all trash land. No trees, no minerals, no tourists, and no farmland. Trash land. They want your land John. And you’re going to give it to them.”

“But what will become of me?? I surely can’t be Governor of the lesser half of my Prefecture?”

“And, now we come nearly full circle. There’s going to be a power switch up. You will resign to the benefit of a special regional election of land holding representatives. Cheiftan Neu’Raw will run in this election.  Because the Neustrian Tribal Lands Act of 1991 makes all Neustrian tribes political parties, his tribe will run in the election under his party. He will have 55% of the land holding votes against who ever else runs. He will be the first Neustrian Governor in Letonnas History John.”

“But...But...Why are you doing this to me?”

“It's just economics. All parties involved think this project will be a massive success. The estimates of minerals under that shelf is astronomical. There will be revenue and jobs for a great deal of the region. I can’t let this opportunity go by. The Senate continues to strip me of power and responsibilities. I need to nullify your governorship while I still can. I need to do this, for Letonna, Governor.”

I was silent with my mouth open. My whole career has just evaporated. I knew this would be trouble. There are far worse governors . I never even took that much election support from any of the Guilds. I’ve not had that many scandals. This shouldn’t be happening to me.

“When should I expect your administration to file for recall My lady?”

“Now.”

She slid a packet of papers across the table, highlighted in yellow where I was to sign. She took out a pen from her blouse pocket and handed it to me. My eyes became sore as the salty tears started to form. I shakily sign the document and hold back a compulsion as a few tears land on the paper.

“Excellent. Thank you for your cooperation Mr. Brumwald. I will arrange you to fly home on my personal plane. Hopefully you can get your son to that Fun Arena before it closes.”

She called me mister. That will be a hard adjustment.

She reached out her hand to shake mine. I stook out my right, and grabbed her hand. She had a small piece of paper that was left in my palm after it broke. I turned and walked down the hall towards the limo depot. Unfolding the paper, i was surprised to discover it was a stock transfer confirmation letter.

   “To whom it may concern. The Greater Letonna Stock Holding and Trading Commission Announce that 1498 stocks of Mining Guild [LMG] tender have been transferred to His Governorship, John Brumwald. “

“Well, this helps I suppose…” I whispered aloud.
9
Modern Era Fiction / Re: A Time For Days Past [2009]
« Last post by Letonna on June 09, 2018, 11:52:42 PM »
Robbaou, 20 km outside Khenstien, Stenic Prefecture
June 24th 2009, 4:24 pm


I wonder where the love of god goes in my daydreams. My neustrian mother would tell me it’s in the trees, the stream, and the land. Walking the earth was enough to be with him. My father, a drunk and penniless potato farmer said it went somewhere, but sure as hell not here. I love ya ‘mah but my dad was right.

I remember when I was just a teenager, I left home. Left school and my friends. Walked the winding dirt roads of this backcountry. Many strangers gave me food and money, but many wouldn’t because of my tan skin. I spent many nights sleeping in train cars and waking to find I was being taken who knows where.

My eyes give me away, revealing my distant mind. A tall, well-fed guard in the sharp Mining Guild Enforcer uniform stops his patrol at me.

“C’mon you. Get at it” he shouted angrily, jabbing his baton into my side.

I begrudgingly conform with the rest of the miners, and lift my heavy pick and strike the wall. I just got to hold out a few more months and my contract will be up.  The guild bought my gambling debts and give me a meal everyday, but it’s nothing short of slavery with a few perks. They get away with it because they have purchased many a shiny senator, governor and minister to protect their operations.

I think once I get out of here I’m going to move. Hopefully somewhere nice sunny weather and warm girls. No place in Letonna can offer me that. Maybe somewhere in the tropics. Far from the deep dark tunnels of the coal mines.
10
Modern Era Fiction / Re: FWD: RE: RE: RE: we lost (1998)
« Last post by Myroria on May 30, 2018, 12:51:40 AM »
Fendrin hated other people knowing what he said. When something needed to be done - when the wheels of statecraft needed to be greased - he would meet with his staff one-on-one. He first became familiar with the cloying, ceremonial nature of monarchial rule as a general. He would see the advisors, distant cousins, and chiefs of staff humbling themselves before Nelvil II, Big Pappa's pappa. That it was a humiliating spectacle was bad enough. Worse were the legal scholars and attorneys hanging around the throne room, taking each pronouncement from the crown as a new legal precedent.

The Auspicious Throne collected dust for most of Fendrin's rule. He didn't want anyone hearing what he said or misinterpreting a direction he gave. The exact meaning of each word was between him and his gofer. Business was conducted behind closed doors and white noise machines, directives uttered through a thick, leathery haze of cigar smoke.

Nelvil III, on the other hand, while not in love with the ceremony himself, understood its use. All Myrorian culture was based around family and its hierarchies. A father gave firm directions to his family at the dinner table. A House's leader gave firm directions to his retainers and nobles. And the Sedera of the All-House Union gave firm directions, in public, to his people. To hide it would be to destabilize the system. In this respect Fendrin and his family and allies were no better than the foreigners who mocked the country's government. They might not have called it a collection of "fat, rich men" like the reds in Funkadelia, but their hearts were in the same place. They wished to do away with the sacred traditions that had saved Myroria from war, famine, or Ozian genocide.

Pappa resolved early on to dust off the Auspicious Throne and have the public, transparent court that his people had enjoyed for hundreds of years. Nobles would relate their ideas and conflicts to him in the open, so that all could see. When, not long after regular courts were reintroduced, he saw Nerandam Mirshanith, the meek heir to House Mirshanith, he was pleased to see the effect it had on him.

Normally, the boy - he was in his forties but still acted as a boy - would slither into the room, asking soft, quiet questions, avoiding eye contact, and making no great impression. When faced with the imposing ceremony of the royal court, though, he stood tall and spoke clearly. He bowed properly, once on entering the grand throne room and once when standing before the Sedera. He nodded gracefully at Rervim, standing on Pappa's left side like a guard.

"Your Auspicious Majesty..." he spoke with confidence, "I bring you a formal petition from House Mirshanith."

Pappa nodded gravely and, for a moment, smiled. "Go on."

The press pool, standing awkwardly in the corner, leaned in as if to hear better.

"Presently Section Զ(za) of the Novrith Waterfront is managed by an Ozian woman," he said, voice dripping with theatrical ire. "As you may have heard, my cousin, the Superior Magistrate of County Novrith, and his office discovered a scheme developed by this woman to funnel money that would normally be taxed as import duties into a private account in Wusspelheim."

Pappa nodded again. The press pool audibly gasped.

"This woman, Daermirzha Rasnav, was taken into custody by the Magistrate's office yesterday evening. My nephew, the manager of Section Ե(yez), has been appointed interim manager of her section by the Port Authority. I believe that in recognition of the Mirshanith family's involvement in bringing this tax fraud to justice, my nephew should be allowed to manage both sections of the Novrith dock."

Pappa leaned back in the throne. Holding his left elbow square, he tapped Rervim's chest gently with his hand. Rervim leaned in and whispered:

"Why is he bringing this petition to you? The mayor or the Port Authority should be handling this."

"I think the boy recognizes that the Vrotriths run Novrith and they would never approve this," Pappa replied. "But look at his demeanor. He has grown immensely on a personal level. He's growing on me."

Rervim pursed his lips, unused to his suggestions going unheeded.

"Sir, he is acting very irregular. I believe he is being put up to this." Rervim got even quieter and glanced at Nerandam, who looked ahead, emotionless. "You have heard the rumors of his Ozian mistress, yes? This is probably some greasy morshe* nonsense he has gotten involved in."

Pappa furrowed his eyebrows.

"Rervim, you are just acting anxious. I see nothing wrong with this petition."

At this point Rervim began to fume. He knew that Pappa had a tendency to do whatever was asked of him - which made Rervim an excellent advisor when the two of them were alone. In this setting, it was dangerous.

"Sir, you should at least take a few hours to consider this."

Pappa hit Rervim's chest, harder this time, as if to push him away.

"Nerandam, you make an excellent point. I will direct the head of the Port Authority to grant House Mirshanith's request."

"Thank you! Your Auspicious Majesty," Nerandam said. He bowed and turned to leave. Rervim stood to the Sedera's side, biting his lip, as another supplicant entered the throne room.



*morshe: A mild Myrorian derogatory term for Ozian people, meaning "murderous-people" literally but more accurately translated as "criminal".
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