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World Conference: Open to All; NS2 Introduction Thread
Topic Started: Dec 10 2008, 08:44 AM (1,995 Views)
Nag Ehgoeg
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The Devil's Advocate

January 1st 1900

International Conference Hall
Nagasaki
Nag Ehgoeg

****

“Ladies and Gentlemen, esteemed delegates from around the world, honoured guests. It is with great pleasure that I welcome you to this turn of the century World Conference. For those of you who recognise the significance of this date let me say that we are entering a new world age. For those of you who do not, as we once did not, then let us be content to know that it is now that the rest of the world is ready to change. That now is an ideal time to set aside old differences and move forward into a bright new future.

“Naturally, some of us gathered here have been enemies in the past. And, naturally, some of us will not be willing to set aside old differences. While unfortunate, this is a sad reality. That so many of you have gathered here is a sign of progress – even if you are simply here to restate your old grudges and pledge undying animosity.

“We intend to enter this new age as a peaceful state, devoted to the furtherment of knowledge. We seek to trade with all those willing to secure our position in the world. We seek peace with all nations, but we will go to war with those who threaten us. Our nation, for too long, has sat in isolation - we seek to make our place in the world.

“With that, I’d like to concede the floor to you all. I invite you to stand forward, state the aims of your state as I have done, tell us about the history of your nation and your plans for the future.”
Edited by Nag Ehgoeg, Dec 10 2008, 07:23 PM.
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Quaon
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A Prince Amoung Men-Shoot First and Ask Questions Later
The Foreign Secretary of the Russia, Boris Kebin, had taken his seat in the Conference Hall in Nagasaki. It was his first visit to a major conference in his current role; the economic crisis of the last year had displaced the old Premier and allowed a new government to rise, one more to Tsar Peter IV's liking. Russsia had slowly begun to recover from her economic woes...woes that had threatened the continued existence of the Russian Empire more than it had ever been in the history of the state...no Kievan or Mongol had been able to do that sort of damage...Moscow, Russia's second largest city, had even fallen into anarchy for a brief period as the city government had collapsed...

Tsar Peter V was a young Tsar, taking the crown midway through the economic crisis. He had confidence in the new government of Premier Luka Balan...but a Premier could be replaced relatively quickly. Kebin had to restore world confidence in Russia. He was nervous...world investors were watching this conference, world leaders were by his side...

He stayed seated, waiting...
Edited by Nag Ehgoeg, Dec 10 2008, 07:19 PM.
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Menhad
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ET2(IDW)
Aleksey Sokolov wasn't remarkable, he wasn't very tall or thick. But he was the General of Foreign Affairs for The United Eastern Soviet States.
He sneered at Boris Kebin, their nations had a long history, and it wasn't good. But he stood and began his small speech.
"My nation has been shunned by the world, leaders have turned their eyes away from the east. But I will tell you now, our industries are booming, our armies strong, our navies powerful, and our will great. We will take a strong stand in this world, we will oppose the corrupt and we will stand for the weak. It would be foolish to ignore The United Eastern Soviet States."

http://nationstates2.com/g/nation/theeastrussians
Edited by Menhad, Dec 10 2008, 06:47 PM.
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Sedulius
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Field Marshal
High King Hugh III O'Neill laughed inside at the Soviet statement. Such a young nation could hardly hope to stand against ancient empires, though it could well prove to be a thorn in Russia's side. However, he held his tongue since Russian politics had little to do with the Irish Empire.

"On behalf of Eire, I agree with our Nagian host. The world is becoming ever smaller as empires expand, and it would be to our interest set aside our differences and prosper through trading! War has been all we Irish have known for the past seven hundred years. Let us put an end to it."

http://nationstates2.com/g/nation/sedulion

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Ulgania
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A better Zarathustra has never rode a horse
Dridian Malthus, a relatively high ranked Ulganian ambassador was attending the conference. Little was expected to be accomplished by the Ulganian delegation, but a general introduction to the world would be of some help.

“We of the Ulganian Federation are pleased to be attending this conference, as we would like to extend our influence in the world. I hope to get to know my fellow delegates more personally, and I also hope to make my nation’s prowess in trade a valued asset to others out there.”

Ulgania was still in a shell, but Dridian hoped the rest of the conference-goers would view his country as more than just an obstacle between the Atlantic and Indian oceans.
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East Anarx
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Anarchitect

The King of Thule was a short, mousy-looking man. He was dressed in the royal regalia, (black and blue with gold trim,) but a few stains and loose threads could be seen here and there. The golden crown on his greasy, white head looked grimy and tarnished, perhaps it wasn't even real gold. His name was Ragnar III, High Monarch of The Kingdom of Thule and Protector of the Five Realms, and yet he looked like he hadn't even bathed in a week. As the other delegates made their introductions, he glanced from side to side before taking a quick swig from a flask inside his coat.
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Telosan
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The Foremost Intellectual Badass
The Emperor of Telosan sat in his seat, thinking of the past years. England had been a great colonial power. Civil war gripped the country after the American Revolution. The war had been sporadic, on and off for many years. Come 1896, the rebel forces succeeded in overthrowing the monarchy at last. The country was renamed Telosan, and Trekon was put in power. There were still many threats he needed to work out.

England aquirred Denmark and such areas as a wedding gift from his beautiful wife. She had thrown in her land with the great empire. Many thought the new royal family wouldn't last. He thought it just might...it just might.

This delegation would be a good chance to make alliances and peace with many countries. At this thought, he spoke to the members of the conference.

"In light of the changing times, I see that, as our Nagian friend has said, we must put our differences behind us. At this I propose to make an alliance of colonial empires, to allow us to keep our colonies protected from our enemies and bolster trade inside the alliance."

"I therefor extend an invitation to any and all countries holding a colony anywhere in the world to join this alliance. This invitation extends even to those who had been our enemies previously, including our Irish counterparts, Sedulion as they are now called."

He faltered a bit, names did not come easy to him. "Once our allegience is made, we shall come up with a name for it."
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A.Q.
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Beautiful Snowflake
 *  *  *  *  *  *
The Foreign Minister of Al Qalaa, Muhammad Iqbal, cleared his throat loudly, to draw attention to himself. The man had a big bushy moustache that completely obscured his mouth when he spoke -no one knew how he managed to keep it from catching flame from the cigarette dangling from the bottom edge of the moustache.

"Ahhhhh... this Peeze conferrence has turn into anozzer Imperializt allianze, eh? The world grows weary of you Europeanz anticz, Ambazzador. Let uz not... bozzer our hoztz with zuch zquabbling over nutzing."

"Zo, friendz, I have been sent to reprezent the Emirate. My people, ze Qalaa'i, we are a quickly growing power... Our cofferz grow quickly full, ze golden mashinez that decorate Al Qalaa herzelf will zee uz into a new age of prozperity, and we are undoubtedly ze mozt populouz state in ze world."

"But we ztill zeek partnerz in trade and politicz, the Shah eez wize enough to realize that power witzout friendz eez empty. Zo, Ambazzador, you zhould not find colonializm so eazy any more, with benevolent forzez like Al Qalaa in zis world who can stand up for the downtrodden, Yetz?"

OOC: Sorry, couldn't help myself.
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Rhadamanthus
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Legitimist

A tall, well-muscled and perfumed eunuch stepped into the room, standing in place for an instant in order to draw the attention of all those in the room before announcing his master's name.

The eunuch's great voice trumpeted forth "All hail His All-Supreme Majesty, the Born in the Purple John Comnenus, Emperor (Gr.: Âáóéëåýò) and Autocrat of the Romans, King of Kings (Ge.: ንጉሠ ነገሥት) of Ethiopia, Prester John of the Indies, Protector of Holy Zion, Defender of the Faith, and so forth, and all hail his His Divine All-Holiness, Chrysostom, Archbishop of Constantinople-New Rome and Oecumenical Patriarch!"

At this, several pages followed the eunuch into the room, carrying the crown and the scepter and other symbols of the Emperor's oecumenical authority. It was after these that the Emperor himself walked into the conference. He was a tall and muscular man, of middle age, draped in silk robes of red and gold and purple with ermine trim. His skin was olive and his features were dark, and he carried himself with a regal bearing as if he was the center of the material world.

Beside the Basileus was his imperial court bishop, the Oecumenical Patriarch. The aged prelate was dressed in black, leaning on a staff as he walked slowly toward his seat beside that of the Autocrat. The Sovereign waited idley for someone to address him, hoping that they would speak in Greek and not in some less civilized tongue. One of the pages found the host and submitted in writing the Emperor's offer to have the Patriarch say a prayer to convene the conference.
Edited by Rhadamanthus, Dec 21 2008, 11:16 AM.
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Toussaint
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Major
For the first time in decades, a Bessentian delegate had been sent to a foreign country for a diplomatic operation. Jean-Toussaint DuBois quietly sat outside of most of the delegations. He'd listened to the East Russians, the West Russians, the Qalaa'i and the Nagians, but understood rather little. He didn't know why he'd even come.

His country was on the rise as a power, meeting great prosperity in almost all sectors. The economy was booming, and the Empire had little place to go but up. If for nothing else than to have a diplomatic presence at the conference, Jean-Toussaint DeBois was there.
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lebowski2123
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Resident?
OOC: NOPE, I'VE CHANGED IT
Edited by lebowski2123, Dec 12 2008, 10:41 PM.
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Quaon
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A Prince Amoung Men-Shoot First and Ask Questions Later
Boris Kebin had been staring in mild amusement at the "white Mongol" delegate. The Soviets were eternally amusing. Rather than accept a moderate social state, they had to go to god-forsaken Siberia to build a new nation. They were pathetic.

As the Greek, entered, Kebin stood up.

"I offer the Emperor of the Romans the greetings and salutations of the Tsar of Russia. May the friendship between our nations prosper for generations to come."

He sat down. The threat had clearly been made to the white Mongol, though Boris wondered if he might be too dense to understand it.
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East Anarx
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Anarchitect

While all eyes were upon the Greek Emperor, King Ragnar took another swig from his flask. He was terribly nervous, and the alcohol did little to calm him down. He was waiting... waiting for the inevitable.

Where was she? Maybe she was dead... Maybe one of her crazy plans had finally backfired and now he would be free to rule Thule the way it ought to be ruled... He was a man, a king goddammit, and she was simply a young woman. A beautiful, passionate, deviously intelligent woman, but still only a woman. How many times had he dreamed of going to bed with her... But no, the bitch was only interested in other women.

Then, suddenly, there she was. Dressed in all black leather, looking for all the world as if she might at any moment roll a bomb under the table, Claire Freedhelm entered the room.

"Sorry I'm late, boys."
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A.Q.
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Beautiful Snowflake
 *  *  *  *  *  *
The new entrances brought a hush over the grand hall, with only the rapid whisper of translators to break the silence.

Minister Iqbal decided to speak first, choosing his words carefully.

"Perhapz his exzellenzy and the young lady would care to take zer zeats? I'm zure our hoztz vould be quite appreciative for uz to continue official introductionz."

He allowed a few moments for order to return to the meeting, taking long drags on his cigarette and casting mournful-looking eyes over assembled delegations.

"Ah, but how rude of me to commandeer the discussion. I have inztructionz from my Emir to try to negotiate a treaty wizz each of your nationz, and I imagine now vould save me a trip to each rezpective state. I am unzure if not would be appropriate, but anyway..."

Each delegation was handed a copy of a long document entitled "The Iqbal Declaration of Human Rights." It seemed to be a set of rules of war and the treatment of each human being.

"Now, I suppose I'll let you all give it a quick read through, but in ze meantime, by all means continue viz ze speechez."

Ambassador Iqbal leaned back in his chair, whispered something in an aide's ear, and ceded the discussion to the others. He would give them time to contemplate the treaty.
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Tristan da Cunha
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Science and Industry
The delegate from Carthage was a negro African of tremendous stature and deep brown complexion. He was dressed in a finely crafted 3-piece European style suit.

"For the love of Ba'al, Foreign Minister, enough with that affected, incomprehensible accent!" he said to the Qalaa'i.
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A.Q.
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Beautiful Snowflake
 *  *  *  *  *  *
"I'm zorry, ambzzador, it's theze damn cigarettez that do eet to me."

He cleared his throat loudly and obnoxiously.

"Is this any better?"

His voiced had dropped two octaves from the silly falsetto squeal to a rich baritone.

It was indeed much better.
Edited by A.Q., Dec 11 2008, 09:58 PM.
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Tristan da Cunha
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Science and Industry
"Thank you, Foreign Minister." said the Carthaginian and continued perusing the papers in front of him.
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East Anarx
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Anarchitect

OOC: Any chance of knowing exactly what's in this declaration? I doubt it'll be libertarian enough for Claire, but I'd like to at least see it before I have her tear it to shreds in disgust.
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Ulgania
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A better Zarathustra has never rode a horse
The Ulganian delegate felt uneasy, seeing some of the characters who called themselves leaders inflate their egos with speeches and churn up the tension wherever they sat. While knowing he was no sovereign, Dridian knew the Regent of Ulgania would not take kindly to these kinds of people. Taking a copy of the printed article being distributed, he pulled out his reading glasses to work out the small print. So far, all looked agreeable, as it was meant to. However, these leaders were known for exercising power from their will, and not a passed law. Ulgania already met these requirements, and Dridian could easily add its approval without consent of the Regent, but when the other signatories failed to uphold it, whoever they would be, whenever it would occur, Dridian couldn't help but wonder what his signature on the document would look like to the rest of the world.

The forward looking man said nothing though. His role would come after the speeches and the ego-building exercises of the powerful. Soon he would seek out his Afrikana and Arabian counterparts.
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Ibrium
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HEY. HEY. HEY.
 *  *  *
Illiana and Lazarus sat together. The youthful flawlessness of Illiana's face betrayed her true strength and depth of character. Lazarus, with his gray hair against dark skin looked every bit the wise statesmen. She stood up, and let the purple dress that elegantly caressed her body speak for itself as she walked forward. Lazarus stood behind her, the gravity of his presence powerful enough to swallow planets.

Then she spoke,"I am Queen Illiana Socorras of United Venador in west Africa. I represent a nation of great potential for everyone here. My healing nation has recently discovered the true value of peace is economic opportunity and the true reward of cooperation is progress. We are here to do all we can to share that with our divided world. We welcome the chance to speak with all nations, great and meek and forge progress."

She looked around the room at all the delegations and nodded to them.



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Tristan da Cunha
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Science and Industry
The Carthaginian stood up and left. There were too many immodestly dressed women in the room, for him to remain any longer. He thanked the host, gathered his coat and hat from the footman of the conference hall, and set sail for the Old City.
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Al Araam
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Demigod of Death & Inactivity

As the Carthaginian took his leave, another sizeable man appeared at the doorway, brushing shoulders with the hulking African on his way into the meeting chambers. Grand Prince Aleksandr Ivanovich Grazyev made surveyed the assembled delegates critically as he made his way toward an empty seat. His longish, dark brown hair and a scraggly beard framed his wide, square jawed face, making him appear constantly slightly disheveled but detracting only slightly from his otherwise regal demeanor. He wore a flowing red robe trimmed in gold, and atop his head sat a simple gold crown. He paid his respects, in Greek, to the Roman Emperor and curled his large frame into the seat the Carthaginian delegate had so recently vacated. He cleared his throat, his deep voice filling the room.

"Friends, I am Grand Prince Aleksandr Ivanovich Grazyev of the Most Orthodox Principality of Kiev-Volhynia. Our great nation is committed to conducting its affairs in the same manner as it has always conducted its affairs. Trade and faith are of prime importance to the people of Kiev-Volhynia. We take our role as guardians of Orthodox Christians seriously, and we are committed to defending those of the Faith that cannot defend themselves. Trade has long been the lifeblood of the Kievan economy, and with advances in transportation technology widening our world, my government will be working tirelessly to forge trade links with as many nations as possible," he finished, sitting back heavily in his chair.
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East Anarx
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Anarchitect

Claire Freedhelm let out a massive yawn as she leafed through the papers in front of her. The king sitting next to her was getting rather belligerent in his drunkenness and kept slamming his fists on the table and making unintelligible but slightly threatening-sounding remarks in the general direction of the Bessentian delegate.
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A.Q.
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Beautiful Snowflake
 *  *  *  *  *  *
OOC: For the sake of laziness, let's say the text is the same as the Geneva accords.
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Telosan
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The Foremost Intellectual Badass
OOC: I'm not familiar with the Geneva accords.
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