Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
Uhhh with all due respect Thlayli, your not really having a say in this treaty 
NES2 V - The Great Game.
- Thread starter das
- Start date
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Stormbringer
The Brick and The Rose
The FK agrees to the latest draft of the treaty of Shanghai that is circulating about. We must note, however, that it would be difficult for China to have influence in Nepal, lacking any sort of border, and so perhaps it would be protected by FK and not China, but we are not adamant about that point and only offer it for convinience. Whatever the fate of Nepal, we will be ok with it.
Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
Well the Nepelese Lords remained loyal to china during Siam's military actions...its up to them really...
We are waiting on you Siam (I'll be on MSN late tonight btw BananaLee if you want to discuss my conversations with Azale, you too Stormbringer if you want)
We are waiting on you Siam
(I'll be on MSN late tonight btw BananaLee if you want to discuss my conversations with Azale, you too Stormbringer if you want)
Kozmos
Jew Detective
No master plan this turn Thy?
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
Whispers in Mecca, Part Three
Towards the center of the bustling city of Manchester in the Federated Kingdoms, there was a pub. The Crown and Lion was a fantastic spot for a weary traveler. It had good food, (by British standards at least,) good hospitality, and smart, funny patrons. It was universally acclaimed by everyone in the city to be the best tavern in the world, and it was. Many ribald, funny, and exciting stories were woven in that charming place…and this isn’t one of them.
Abban walked towards The Rat’s Den. It was a miserable, disgusting excuse for a hovel. Though it served alcohol, which was technically banned under Islam, there were plenty of westerners craving it. It was only their business that kept the townspeople from forming a mob and burning it down, something that Meccans were quite good at. Anyway, the spot was a colorful gathering point for all sort of illegal organizations. Be it the Foreign Legion*, or the local gangs, everyone in Mecca knew that The Rat’s Den was the gateway to the underworld. And why didn’t the Federates? Well, they controlled the main streets of Mecca by day, and all it’s important buildings…but there were no good maps of the sprawling mud-brick metropolis. It’s allies and side-streets were only known the locals. So the tavern would be impossible, even for…“The Unit,” as the secret Federate counterintelligence force was called, to find.
Abban slipped out of the alley, and slowly walked down the steps leading to the entrance. A rather clichéd eyehole slid open, and after seeing that the youngish boy wasn’t a Federate, or a member one of the various criminal organizations that wanted to burn the place down, the guard opened the door.
Abban got his first look of the place. A long, mahogany countertop lined the back wall. In the corner a man strung a rebab*, and the mournful, echoing tones fit the patrons’ attitudes. People sat hunched in small corners among themselves, gray or brown cloaks drawn up over their eyes. Several others were drinking in solitude. About half of them were European. The bartender looked vaguely Gaelic, probably Scottish. An old Federate propaganda poster in the back corner was being used as a target for throwing knives. King George’s face wasn’t looking too good these days.
Abban sat at the bar. He wasn’t exactly sure what he should do now, and his previous anger towards the Federates was now being replaced with embarrassment. What would happen if no one showed up? Or if someone decided they didn’t like the look of the young kid sitting all alone…
The Scotsman fixed his one good eye on the young, nervous looking boy. In a heavy Highlands accent, he spoke.
“Airn’t ye a wee bit young fer drinkin, lad?”
“Oh, never mind me, I’m waiting for someone…I think.”
“Same’s all them who come ‘ere.”
A tall, swarthy man was the next to walk into the bar. His entire body was cloaked in a long flowing robe that looked quite Bedouin. He lowered the hood of his robe, to reveal short, curly hair, and a smiling face. He was fairly young, probably twenty-five. If you had asked Abban about it later, he would have said that the man looked like a prophet.
“McAndrews.”
“Cornea.”
“I’ll have two White Russells, and something to drink for my friend here.”
“Aye.”
The bartender came back with two pieces of paper, and handed them to Cornea. They vanished into the folds of his robe. Then he put a large glass of red liquid in front of Abban, who shrunk back from it like the plague. Cornea smiled.
“Relax, it’s just pomegranate juice. You looked like you wanted to talk to someone from my organization. Abban, isn’t it?”
“Wait…you know my name? And my purpose for being here? But how, I’ve never seen you in my life before!”
“As for your first question, I knew your father, nice guy. He died right next to me, actually. Long story, I’m sure you know it. And your second question…I just had a hunch. They always have that look in their eyes when they walk in, and they always sit here. Don’t look so scared…it’s my job to know this kind of thing.” He winked.
“I understand. I wasn’t ready to fight the Federates before…but they burned my mosque.”
“I see. Well, coming to the realization that the FK is purely evil is the foundation of our struggle. Everywhere their armies go, they leave slaughter and oppression in their wake. They pretend to uphold democracy in the world…but what they really uphold is privilege.
Their hegemonic Empire, their taxes and conscriptions…it’s all to support the whites in the Kingdoms, who grow fat off our blood. Look at France, Portugal, and Brazil. Look at India, look at Shiraz, look at Mecca itself! They have ruined the world in their quest to rule it.”
“And you think Persia is any better for us?”
“I am a Sunni, just like you. And there are plenty of Sunnis that helped the Federates when they first came, thinking that they would make us independent, or reestablish the Caliphate. But this is just not so. Ardashir cares for his people in a way that the Parliament in London never could. They aren’t the ones that command on the battlefields. Their lands aren’t the ones that are ravaged and plundered. Ardashir may not be a Sunni, but at least he is a Muslim ruler for Muslim people. And under him, Arabs were free.”
“I never thought of it that way…but I suppose I’ve never really thought about anything, until now.”
“Think about it, Abban. The Federates want you to think that this isn’t a war between good and evil. They want you to forget your nationality, your freedom, even your religion. They want to incorporate all peoples into this massive entity they call the Federated Kingdoms. But we won’t let them, not until we’re all dead and rotting.”
“I agree with you. Tell me what I can do to help!” It seemed to Cornea that there was a light in his eyes that wasn't in him before.
“I’m sure that your father taught you how to use a weapon before he left?”
“Yeah, a pistol. And throwing knives.”
“Bring the knives, leave the pistol. Tomorrow night, at one o clock, me and a few of my acquaintances are having a little get together at the Federate garrison on this side of town.”
“You really mean to…?”
“Of course. This is only the beginning of the greater campaign, Abban. Things are moving on both sides of the board, things bigger than us. We’re like a single piece in one great game…and Ardashir’s putting us into play.”
“One o’clock. I'll bring the knives.”
“Oh, and one more thing, Abban.”
“Yes?”
“It was nice meeting you. In your own way, you’re a lot like your father.”
“Thanks, Cornea.”
“You’re welcome. If we live, I might actually tell you my real name.”
“I’d like that.”
---
*Similar to the International Brigades in the Spanish Civil War, the Foreign Legion's goal is the liberation of France. It's mostly made up of Frenchmen, but foreign battalions are also organized.
*A stringed instrument, vaguely similar to a violin.
Note: Possibly my best story yet.
Towards the center of the bustling city of Manchester in the Federated Kingdoms, there was a pub. The Crown and Lion was a fantastic spot for a weary traveler. It had good food, (by British standards at least,) good hospitality, and smart, funny patrons. It was universally acclaimed by everyone in the city to be the best tavern in the world, and it was. Many ribald, funny, and exciting stories were woven in that charming place…and this isn’t one of them.
Abban walked towards The Rat’s Den. It was a miserable, disgusting excuse for a hovel. Though it served alcohol, which was technically banned under Islam, there were plenty of westerners craving it. It was only their business that kept the townspeople from forming a mob and burning it down, something that Meccans were quite good at. Anyway, the spot was a colorful gathering point for all sort of illegal organizations. Be it the Foreign Legion*, or the local gangs, everyone in Mecca knew that The Rat’s Den was the gateway to the underworld. And why didn’t the Federates? Well, they controlled the main streets of Mecca by day, and all it’s important buildings…but there were no good maps of the sprawling mud-brick metropolis. It’s allies and side-streets were only known the locals. So the tavern would be impossible, even for…“The Unit,” as the secret Federate counterintelligence force was called, to find.
Abban slipped out of the alley, and slowly walked down the steps leading to the entrance. A rather clichéd eyehole slid open, and after seeing that the youngish boy wasn’t a Federate, or a member one of the various criminal organizations that wanted to burn the place down, the guard opened the door.
Abban got his first look of the place. A long, mahogany countertop lined the back wall. In the corner a man strung a rebab*, and the mournful, echoing tones fit the patrons’ attitudes. People sat hunched in small corners among themselves, gray or brown cloaks drawn up over their eyes. Several others were drinking in solitude. About half of them were European. The bartender looked vaguely Gaelic, probably Scottish. An old Federate propaganda poster in the back corner was being used as a target for throwing knives. King George’s face wasn’t looking too good these days.
Abban sat at the bar. He wasn’t exactly sure what he should do now, and his previous anger towards the Federates was now being replaced with embarrassment. What would happen if no one showed up? Or if someone decided they didn’t like the look of the young kid sitting all alone…
The Scotsman fixed his one good eye on the young, nervous looking boy. In a heavy Highlands accent, he spoke.
“Airn’t ye a wee bit young fer drinkin, lad?”
“Oh, never mind me, I’m waiting for someone…I think.”
“Same’s all them who come ‘ere.”
A tall, swarthy man was the next to walk into the bar. His entire body was cloaked in a long flowing robe that looked quite Bedouin. He lowered the hood of his robe, to reveal short, curly hair, and a smiling face. He was fairly young, probably twenty-five. If you had asked Abban about it later, he would have said that the man looked like a prophet.
“McAndrews.”
“Cornea.”
“I’ll have two White Russells, and something to drink for my friend here.”
“Aye.”
The bartender came back with two pieces of paper, and handed them to Cornea. They vanished into the folds of his robe. Then he put a large glass of red liquid in front of Abban, who shrunk back from it like the plague. Cornea smiled.
“Relax, it’s just pomegranate juice. You looked like you wanted to talk to someone from my organization. Abban, isn’t it?”
“Wait…you know my name? And my purpose for being here? But how, I’ve never seen you in my life before!”
“As for your first question, I knew your father, nice guy. He died right next to me, actually. Long story, I’m sure you know it. And your second question…I just had a hunch. They always have that look in their eyes when they walk in, and they always sit here. Don’t look so scared…it’s my job to know this kind of thing.” He winked.
“I understand. I wasn’t ready to fight the Federates before…but they burned my mosque.”
“I see. Well, coming to the realization that the FK is purely evil is the foundation of our struggle. Everywhere their armies go, they leave slaughter and oppression in their wake. They pretend to uphold democracy in the world…but what they really uphold is privilege.
Their hegemonic Empire, their taxes and conscriptions…it’s all to support the whites in the Kingdoms, who grow fat off our blood. Look at France, Portugal, and Brazil. Look at India, look at Shiraz, look at Mecca itself! They have ruined the world in their quest to rule it.”
“And you think Persia is any better for us?”
“I am a Sunni, just like you. And there are plenty of Sunnis that helped the Federates when they first came, thinking that they would make us independent, or reestablish the Caliphate. But this is just not so. Ardashir cares for his people in a way that the Parliament in London never could. They aren’t the ones that command on the battlefields. Their lands aren’t the ones that are ravaged and plundered. Ardashir may not be a Sunni, but at least he is a Muslim ruler for Muslim people. And under him, Arabs were free.”
“I never thought of it that way…but I suppose I’ve never really thought about anything, until now.”
“Think about it, Abban. The Federates want you to think that this isn’t a war between good and evil. They want you to forget your nationality, your freedom, even your religion. They want to incorporate all peoples into this massive entity they call the Federated Kingdoms. But we won’t let them, not until we’re all dead and rotting.”
“I agree with you. Tell me what I can do to help!” It seemed to Cornea that there was a light in his eyes that wasn't in him before.
“I’m sure that your father taught you how to use a weapon before he left?”
“Yeah, a pistol. And throwing knives.”
“Bring the knives, leave the pistol. Tomorrow night, at one o clock, me and a few of my acquaintances are having a little get together at the Federate garrison on this side of town.”
“You really mean to…?”
“Of course. This is only the beginning of the greater campaign, Abban. Things are moving on both sides of the board, things bigger than us. We’re like a single piece in one great game…and Ardashir’s putting us into play.”
“One o’clock. I'll bring the knives.”
“Oh, and one more thing, Abban.”
“Yes?”
“It was nice meeting you. In your own way, you’re a lot like your father.”
“Thanks, Cornea.”
“You’re welcome. If we live, I might actually tell you my real name.”
“I’d like that.”
---
*Similar to the International Brigades in the Spanish Civil War, the Foreign Legion's goal is the liberation of France. It's mostly made up of Frenchmen, but foreign battalions are also organized.
*A stringed instrument, vaguely similar to a violin.
Note: Possibly my best story yet.
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
Cleric said:
Give me time, give me time...
MjM
Deity
Thlayli said:Give me time, give me time...
And don't forget money.
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
No Emperor in the History of China has voluntarily stepped down. I forsee a Civil War. The Manchu Throne will be defended by some
alex994
Hail Divine Emperor!
Azale said:
That's even worse, a violent overthrow of an established dynasty. It's Civil War for sure now
I recall Emperor Guangxu had a brother 
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
...Who you're going to take? Hmm, now that I think about it, a three-way civil war would be kind of entertaining.
Chinese Nationalists ftw!
Chinese Nationalists ftw!
Kozmos
Jew Detective
I love the smell of cordite. You know, that sulfery smell.
MjM
Deity
Thlayli said:
Not again!
Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
Thlayli said:
Except that certain of these factions will have the full backing of the RGC's might and money, and others will not
.@Panda: Wheres that awesome story promised - I expect great things of you!
Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
The Treaty Of Shanghai
In recognition of Qing China's defeat at the hands of her own agression this treaty sets out the partion of her empire and the liberty of the peoples therein.
Article One.
There is to be immediate cessation of hostilities between the forces of the RGC and groups associated, and the forces of former Qing China on all fronts.
Article Two.
Current Qing forces in India and Central Asia are to leave the theatres immediately, surrendering their weapons whilst undergoing transport back to the new Han China.
Article Three.
All parties involved in this conflict, and the newly formed nations thereof are to sign an permanent non-agression pact.
Article Four.
New nations are to formed from this treaty with the borders of the map below.
-The Empire of Han China is declared following the over throw of the old Qing order. Incorperating the White Lotus rebellion, and all those who have tirelessly worked for a free China.
-The Kingdom of Tibet, a free and independent nation whose sovereignty is under the protection of the FK, Dalnorossia and Siam.
-The Kingdom of Nepal, in recognition of their loyalty to the former Qing regime is to be allowed their free choice to associate with the New Han Empire or not, though if they request it then Siam and the FK are to guarntee independence instead.
-The Nation of Japan has been recognised prior to this, but its areas are to be restated here.
Article Five.
Concerning the territories not to be made fully independent nations.
-Mongolia, East Turkestan, Korea, and the Eastern Manchurian provinces** indicated are to be transfered to the control of Dalnorossia as Protectorates. Outer Manchuria and northern lands are to be directly rejoined to Dalnorossia Proper. A region 50km south of the Amur is to be tendered to Dalnorossian control as a secruity zone.
-The Northern Phillipeans, Annam and lands south of the Mekong are to be transfered to direct Siamese control.
-All Areas of FK land currently occupied by China are to be returned to FK control.
-All other regions are to remain in control of the Han Chinese successors to the Qing throne.
Article Six.
All nations recognise the New empire of Han China as the legitimate successors of Qing China, and this new government formally severs all prior agreements and treaties Qing China had entered into.
Article Seven.
-Han China is to pay the FK, who have not made any territorial gains in this war, and indeed selflessly sacrificed ships and men of their navy to battle Qing agression, a sum of three million Federate Pounds (3 EP) Reparations, taken from the seized Qing tresury of course, if not now then some later date.
Article Eight.
Dalnorossia, Siam and the FK pledge to assist in stablising the new Chinese state. Volunteering forces or funding to prevent the nation being plunged into a civil war.
**Our control is ended where the hills leading up to korea finish and the North eastern plain starts.
Signed By
Perviy Prikaznik Mikhail Dezhnev, on behalf of the Grand Rada of Dalnorossia
In recognition of Qing China's defeat at the hands of her own agression this treaty sets out the partion of her empire and the liberty of the peoples therein.
Article One.
There is to be immediate cessation of hostilities between the forces of the RGC and groups associated, and the forces of former Qing China on all fronts.
Article Two.
Current Qing forces in India and Central Asia are to leave the theatres immediately, surrendering their weapons whilst undergoing transport back to the new Han China.
Article Three.
All parties involved in this conflict, and the newly formed nations thereof are to sign an permanent non-agression pact.
Article Four.
New nations are to formed from this treaty with the borders of the map below.
-The Empire of Han China is declared following the over throw of the old Qing order. Incorperating the White Lotus rebellion, and all those who have tirelessly worked for a free China.
-The Kingdom of Tibet, a free and independent nation whose sovereignty is under the protection of the FK, Dalnorossia and Siam.
-The Kingdom of Nepal, in recognition of their loyalty to the former Qing regime is to be allowed their free choice to associate with the New Han Empire or not, though if they request it then Siam and the FK are to guarntee independence instead.
-The Nation of Japan has been recognised prior to this, but its areas are to be restated here.
Article Five.
Concerning the territories not to be made fully independent nations.
-Mongolia, East Turkestan, Korea, and the Eastern Manchurian provinces** indicated are to be transfered to the control of Dalnorossia as Protectorates. Outer Manchuria and northern lands are to be directly rejoined to Dalnorossia Proper. A region 50km south of the Amur is to be tendered to Dalnorossian control as a secruity zone.
-The Northern Phillipeans, Annam and lands south of the Mekong are to be transfered to direct Siamese control.
-All Areas of FK land currently occupied by China are to be returned to FK control.
-All other regions are to remain in control of the Han Chinese successors to the Qing throne.
Article Six.
All nations recognise the New empire of Han China as the legitimate successors of Qing China, and this new government formally severs all prior agreements and treaties Qing China had entered into.
Article Seven.
-Han China is to pay the FK, who have not made any territorial gains in this war, and indeed selflessly sacrificed ships and men of their navy to battle Qing agression, a sum of three million Federate Pounds (3 EP) Reparations, taken from the seized Qing tresury of course, if not now then some later date.
Article Eight.
Dalnorossia, Siam and the FK pledge to assist in stablising the new Chinese state. Volunteering forces or funding to prevent the nation being plunged into a civil war.
**Our control is ended where the hills leading up to korea finish and the North eastern plain starts.
Signed By
Perviy Prikaznik Mikhail Dezhnev, on behalf of the Grand Rada of Dalnorossia
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
Persia pressures China to accept the following peace treaty, in the interests of China continuing to exist as a state. Though we wish that China had more control over it's former lands, it is our ally's job to secure its own survival.
OOC: There.
OOC: There.
- Status
