The Éire Crisis

[Prydania]

The first thing the observers noticed coming off their planes were the lack of adult males. Of course, anyone they asked replied with a "he died in the war" or "he died in a food rush". But that could only sustain so long. Every Éirean male died? Every one supported the revolution? Something didn't click. Councilman George Oswiecim was one of the observers. He was the only one with connections, namely to Great House Hanso, and, by proxy, his brother, Arnold Oswiecim. He approached a woman in black in a pub he visited. The usual answer to his question. "He died fighting that bas...Crofts." The brother took a wad of Kolonialreich marks with a strip saying "500" around them out of his jacket.

"So...what really happened to your husband?"

"Well that depends, do you want to know what happened, or what happened" she replied, slightly motioning he head toward the pub's entrance where two Inglo-Scotian soldiers had entered.

-------------------------------------------------------

The ship came into harbor and Vendecci asked the Captain, "Do they make us pay for docking?"

"Yeah, go downstairs, we have boxes filled with different currencies."

"Counterfeit?"

"I don't think so. Last time I came here they were fine which was about 3 months ago."

Vendecci and the Captain walked off the boat together on a roaped ramp down to the port where a dock man came over with a clip board. His hat had written on it, 'Victory Docking'.

"Hello there, we would like to dock our ship here for today, delivering fish to an office in Cork" said the Captain.

"Well ya got the amount of pounds for it chaps? 100 pounds per noight and 50 pounds ov'r dayloight. Ya got the bloody cash? Could ya speak a wee bit clearer I can hardly understand ya fresh off the skally talk."

"Well, we also need some Cargo trucks.... lad." awkwardly said the Dire

"Well laddy we got ya a Vict'ry Rental Cars right about the corner th're," the Inglo-Scotian spat to the side, "Marooners eh?"

The Dire was confused, "Marooner?"

The captain answered, "That's what they call Ozians."

"Oh," the Dire looked at the cash, "here's 100 for good service eh chap?"

"Ya damn marooners always got da bloody cash don't ya? No harm though chap," the dock worker patted his shoulder and a flight of dust came off his arm. The Dire brushed off the dust that went on his coat.

"How much for a truck?"

"How da bloody hell should I know? Go check them."

The Ozians walked over and rented their trucks. After unloading the fish and other packages of cargo they stuffed them into the trucks. Vendecci got into one of the vehicles and put the keys in the ignition. He turned the key but the truck wouldn't start. "I thought this was a victory car!"

The Ozian turned it and turned it until he smashed the front of the wheel with his fist and then it worked.

The truck came to a slow halt as they approached a road block, two Inglo-Scotian soldiers waving to them to slow them down.
A helmet-less soldier carrying a clip-board approached the vehicle, motioning them to roll down their windows.
"Sorry about this chap" the soldier said.
"Military occupation and all, just need to check your truck."

[Eluvatar]

OOC: Sorry about being a bit inactive here. Can I assume Eluvataran observers get let in too?

[Prydania]

OOC: Sorry about being a bit inactive here. Can I assume Eluvataran observers get let in too?

OOC: Yep, but like the Myrorians they're restricted to the province of Éire.

[Iadak]

The Ozians got out of the truck and then opened the back. Smell of cold fish was smelt as it was packed in roof high with ice and fish.

"I understand," said the Dire, "Want a Zuavka Soldiers?" He pulled out two cigars and got out his lighter.

While waiting for his decision he said, "Could we make this quick we have a very impatient customer. He's an Ozian who moved here before the whole crisis who only wanted a summer home,"

[Prydania]

"Thanks mate" the soldier said, lighting up his cigar.
"Eh, everything seems in order, just sign here, and you'll be on your way."

[Myroria-Hanso Corporation]

"Oh, well, what happened, I suppose. Mayhaps we should lower our voices." He glanced at the soldiers.

"Though that'd be no use if that's not really a painting above that fireplace."

[Iadak]

The Dire signed on the clip board, "Drion Habilov Cata"

The Ozians slid down the back and got back in the truck driving into town and going to their delivery stop.

They drove into a private manor where a man in traditional Ozian robes was coming out of the large manor. "Savus Savus, my friends." said the man.

"Hello dear friend Popi." said the Captain, "This is Dire Vendecci."

Dire Vendecci and Popi bowed and each said, "Priacci"

The two Ozians began to direct the trucks inside, "Is this house monitered?"

"No, only house in Eire. I got a special permit from the government, I don't exist while I stay here, I pay them respectively."

"Good, Unload the 'fish' boys and girls" said Vendecci.

With that said pouches of fish and ice were put into bags and other containers. As they cleared the packs of ice and fish wooden crates started to appear, "I assume the fish comes free Vendecci?"

"Of course,"

The crates were being dragged into the garage and then smashed open and yanked open with crows bars. Many assortments of I-19s, Ia-7s, and ISE-22s (Uzi) were passed back, they were cold but their mechanisms could survive harsher temperatures.

Tons of ammo boxes were open distributing them amongst the the rifle areas. When the large garages were closed and all the crates taken out the Captain and 4 of his crew headed back to the ship. Vendecci and Popi said good bye and then got to business.

"Show me everything you go."

"Will do."

The Ozians, including Vendecci's Soldiers came with him inside the house and then were lead to the sealed basement.

Downstairs was a large open room with a full arsenal and commanding operations base. "How did you get all this over here?" asked Vendecci.

"Fish..."

The two laughed.

[St Oz]

The Ozians walked off the manor and started to head into town, "I know this perfect place for a good drink."

"I look forward to it. What are women like here ol' Popi?"

"Oh they're basically slaves, most of them wear anti-sex sashes though..."

"What!?"

[Myroria-Hanso Corporation]

The observer looked at the mirror behind the bar. Ozians. He turned to the woman he was talking with.

"Excuse me."

He downed a shot of whiskey for good luck. Every encounter with an Ozian was like playing Russian Roulette. Reluctantly he got up and walked to them.

"Don't see many Ozians down here. You native?"

[Iadak]

"Aemefol dae oudneoul iecabaer Maejrorian."

"Aemefol?"

"Aemefol!"

The two Ozians laughed, "Take a seat Myrorian, We're not natives, I'm Popi, my friend Vendecci," He handed him a Zuavka, "Have a smoke with us," He lit it and gave it to him. The two Ozians got a smoke

Vendecci then said, "Hey pretty bar girl, one more Scotch for this fellow on my tab."

"On my tab you mean?"

"Oh it's not like its worth a Southern Ozian Dike Popi." The two Ozians laughed heartily and made themselves heard in the bar, "What brings you here Myrorian? Surprised you talked to us! Usually you chaps shit your pants when you see us."

[Myroria-Hanso Corporation]

"Oh, I'm not sure I didn't. No, I kid." He lit up his Zuavka and lowered his voice.

"It's just that usually Ozians tend to be accompanied by I-19s. At least that's what they teach us back home. Who knows."

[Iadak]

Vendecci smiled, "Do they?"

Popi smiled too and looked at Vendecci, "We should show this guy what Ozia's like, would you like to know? The Southern Women of Ozia are a great match for you..."

[Myroria]

"I'll be sure to take a trip there." he said with a chuckle.

"Anyway, what I came to ask about is if I could buy an I-19. If you have them, of course. A handgun isn't exactly great protection."

[Eluvatar]

The Eluvataran Observers arrive...

There were a number of teams, but most of interest are Ælar Ëarondur and Ëardil Matanatar, EROB agents implanted into the corps. They walked the streets, visited markets and entered a factory, all the while becoming more and more worried in appearance. "Dinande olende manacarem mindubum?" asked Ælar. Ëardil answered, "Marwolusæbu."

OOC: Are they being followed?

[St Oz]

"You want an Iseltov friend? What makes you think we have any?" asked Popi.