NES2 VIb - Return of the Chaos.

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TO: Islamic Caliphate
FROM: Japanese Empire

Fair enough. We shall send a diplomatic corps shortly to discuss further trade options.
 
To: Islamic Caliphate
From: The Shaoxi Emperor


We would most like to open diplomatic relations with your nation. We will send an ambassador to Cairo at once, and would be most welcoming to an Islamic ambassador in Zhongguojing.

We also ask you to consider the possibility of a trade agreement with the Xin Han Empire.


To: Japan, EUA
From: The Shaoxi Emperor


While we have not conceived of any specific proposals such as those hinted at by the EUA, we would be most willing to consider whatever other agreements the EUA and Japan desire in addition to our new mutual trade agreement.
 
From: The Islamic Caliphate
To: The Shaoxi Emperor


We would be delighted. Trade is, as always, an enrichment to both parties.

From: The Islamic Caliphate
To: The Byzantine Empire


Unfortunately, handing you Alexandria would be a great affront to the Holy Roman Empire, but if you manage to secure their agreement, we would be happy to lease the port under the same terms.

From: The Islamic Caliphate
To: Japanese Empire


Indeed, we would appreciate your assistance in the matter of securing and building a favorable deep water port for shipping in the Red Sea. As we mentioned, Japanese shipping could operate through said sea and use Caliphate ports free of tariff, were this to be provided.
 
To: Islamic Caliphate
From: Badawistan

May we purchase the territory from you? But we will otherwise withdraw our claims.
 
*Sigh* Longest orders yet sent. And some things:

I'm not affiliated or allied with the Russian Union. Hell, I haven't even spoken to Storm- much less talk and agree to ally. I'm not allied to anyone- the only allies I've ever recognized have been Sulia and Egypt, through I really didn't help them out. Second: Despite popular belief, I don't even expectto survive this war, much less win it. I'm just doing what I believe is necessary- nothing more, nothing less.
 
You felt it was necessary to destroy your empire? Forgive me if I wouldn't want you ruling over me.
 
OOC: As far as the charts are concerned, even unrelated combatants fighting the same enemies are considered de facto allies. You are fighting the HRE and assaulting its strategic interests, and hence are de facto helping Russia, regardless of whether there is any real, meaningful cooperation.
 
Smoke laced the air in the dark dank bar. The smell of liquor and sweat mixing to make it more repulsive and yet, seductive at the same time. The plucking of guitar strings made it seem all the more lovely, that slow pulse that vibrated the room into a swirling mass of pleasure. The filth of this place made me sick. It would make any man sick. That’s why it made women even sicker. I wondered how anyone, even men, could stand the smell of all this. Perhaps it was the fact that they were stone cold drunk half the time, perhaps it was the waitresses in their little skirts and low cut tops, that made them forget how disgusting their life was. Is that what this place was? Some place in the back alley to forget. To forgive and forget all the things the world has thrown at you, to make them find some way to live with themselves.

My fingers wondered around the rim of my glass as I stared at the rust colored liquid in it. The smell of it made my lip curl. How did I even get into this position? This horrid place. I had a family, I had brothers, I had a father, a mother. They all loved me. What happened to that? I snorted as I picked up the glass and took it down in one gulp. It burned so badly as it went down my throat and I winced and closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose for a moment. I wish I was like them, that I could get drunk and forget it all. But that would do no good. I’d wake up sore all over.

“Hey honey don’t get to drunk now” Came that horrid voice. That disgusting hand moving down and squeezing my rear.

“Sure thing” I said and then with a sigh, drew a breath of toxic smoke into me. I was swimming. Swimming in a sea of delusion and illusion. My eyes slide from one side to another as I sank in my chair. I begged for more of it even as I exhaled. Even as I watched tho tendrils of smoke dance around in the air, like imps mocking me, I wanted more. If only things were like this, if only life was like this. Not my life, the life of nothingness. That was mine. At least I had something right?

“Come on, lets go upstairs and get this started” That voice again. I wish it would just go away. The room begun to buzz, and hum, like a giant bees nest. What the hell? Have I gone insane? I could see colors and swirls of a smoke floating up above me. I rose, to quickly though. My vision narrowed for a moment and I swayed. A hand came around my waist to steady me. A weak smile came across my lips as I looked at the man. He had a swirly mustache, round plump face. He was fat in the bad sort of way though, they way that makes people look like gluttonous pigs. I giggled at his mustache and played with the twirled tips of it.

“Yes, lets get going...” suddenly a huge bang came from behind me. I turned around quickly, losing my balance and fell. Damn that hurt my rear. My vision swam with violent colors. I heard shouts, angry shouts. Glass shattering close to me, it made me jump in fright. I must have gone to that place. Hell, that’s what they called it. All fire and chaos, and broken glasses of course. The man, the fat one with the funny mustache, shouted at men in black. Those were the men who were breaking stuff, who were breaking my drinks. I love my drinks. Those men whore some nice clothes though, and very nice daggers, some had pistols. That must have been the bang. More shouts.

I scooted under the table and clamped my hand over my hears. It was so loud, I wished it would stop. More bangs and shouts then thuds. The thud sounded like someone hitting the floor, more like some people hitting the floor. I heard a bones break and screams, horrible screams. I curled tighter into a ball, I was safe yes, under my table of unbreakable wood. Rocking back and forth a stared at the floor. There came a sickening crunch and something wet splashed over me. Maybe it was some more of that drink. I liked that drink. But wait, it didn’t look like it, the drink was red now. I took my hands from my ears and looked at them. They were covered in blood.

Soon the noise stopped, except for a few foot steps and muffled voices. A hand touched my shoulder. With a flinch I withdrew, pressing myself against the single leg of the table. Don’t want no trouble sir, I’ll be going along home sir, don’t want no trouble. The hand rested on my shoulder gently. I turned my head to it and followed it up to a face. A black face, all covered in clothe. I could only see the eyes, and they seemed soft, like they were smiling. The hand came off my shoulder and pulled down some of the cloth off its face. It was a he.

“It’s ok now, you are safe now” came a gentle voice. I smiled, that voice was like honey. “I am Raja, may I know your name young lady”

“Indrani”

“It’s ok Indrani, you don’t have to work for these disgusting men anymore, freedom is here” The face smiled, that gentle face. “If you wish, you may live with us”

He straightened up and extended his hand to help me up “You are free now”

I was in love.
 
Freedom. That concept was so foreign to me. I never had it, never thought it was real. It was a word, words can’t do much. It’s the knives and sticks and guns that follow those words, that’s what breaks bones. I wondered idly, as I stood in front a trade store’s back door, if I was really free. Or was this just another prison. I was, after all, being used, like I had been used. Like a doll, pull the strings love, I can dance rather nice. I smiled at the thought as I straightened out my saree. Must look nice and proper now, neat and tidy dear. Had to look nice for the big boss of course.

I was in the back alley of a traders store, where they threw out the trash. It smelled like it to, trash of course. Disgusting really. I was suppose to get the manager of the store out of it, by any means necessary, and kill him. Make it look like murder they said. I asked, why not make it look like an accident? They said they don’t make accident.

From behind the door I heard murmurs, a few times I heard the shrill of laughter and sometimes, even screams. I stood outside that door for an hour or two. I didn’t know why, perhaps I wanted to hear it all. Get a nice feel for this place. It might even by my home some day. I snorted and finally stepped up to the door and knocked. After a few moments a big man with blond hair opened the door and looked down at me.

“What”

“Jacques sent me to see Lious David” I said with a bow. The man grunted and looked me over thoroughly. I think he liked my saree.

“Get in”

“Jacques says I must see Lious first” I said quickly. The man scowled and turned, before walking off into the trade store. Finally I was able to look inside the store, since that big oaf was blocking the way. I saw a myriad of strange objects. From my position I could see behind the counter. It was stacked with pistols and rifles. Further into the trade store were a number of tables where men in fancy European clothes sat and chatted away with each other while women in rather revealing saree’s served them drinks. I smirked. Perhaps this was an all purpose trade store after all. I remember I had asked them what was the point of killing the owner of some trade store. They said this was an all purpose trade store. One stop shopping.

After five minutes or so a skinny little man to the door. He fumbled with his hands as he came to the door. His big eyes that seemed to pop out of his head, stared at me. He looked nervous, extremely nervous, like a rat in a corner. Always shifting from one foot to another. The big blonde haired man was at his side, looking down at me with a glare.

“Yes?”

“Jacques said that these are words you must hear only”

“Oh... oh very well then, for Jacques” he flashed a nervous smile and then shooed the big blonde man away. He quickly closed the door after the blonde man left. Now we were alone, in trash, how fitting.

“Yes?”

“You must come closer, Jacques said no one must hear his words except you” he moved a little closer to me. A leaned over, my lips by his hear. In my right hand I could feel the cold metal, cold and emotionless metal. Best for business like this.

“Jacques says, you are free” I slide the cold metal into his skinny rat gut. He stiffened, his eyes budged. I thought they might fall out of his head. His lips parted, he was going to scream. I clamped my hand over his mouth and twisted the knife is his skinny rat gut. He screamed, but no one heard him, he struggled. He beat his skinny rat fists against me. They hurt, they hit my chest, they really hurt. I looked into his eyes, and yanked the cold metal from his skinny rat gut. I brought it up to his face so he could see it, so he could see the cold emotionless metal stained with his skinny rat blood. I drew it across his skinny rat throat. No more screams skinny rat. His body crumpled into a heap with the trash. I looked down at my saree and frowned. Now it was ruined, all red, and I knew it would stain, just like it did on that night. I slipped the cold metal into its home, its sheath under my saree. Good thing it was night, or else people might get suspicious of all the red on me.

I walked out of the alley where he was waiting. Raja. I stared at him. Standing there on watch, all I could see was his eyes. They settled on me and smiled. I smiled back, I always wondered how he could smile just with his eyes. That soft smile.

“Are you alright?”

“No”

“I am sorry” he said as he put his and gently around my shoulder “But we must do what we must to free our people”

I stayed silent, simply staring up at him.

“Would you like to go?”

“Yes”

“Let us go then, I will clean this off of you and get you a new saree. Will that help at all?”

“No”

“I am sorry”

I stared at him silently as we began to walk.

I was in love



ooc a saree is, for those who don't know, a sort of dress worn in india, i don't feel like posting a pic of it or explaining it any further
and yes it is spelt both sari and saree

i apologies for double posting stories, i should have edited my previous post. sorry
 
it's actually spelled sari ;)
 
Message from the Scandinavian Ministry of Foreign Affairs​

The government of the Union of Scandinavia is delighted to announce that we have come to an agreement with the Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland concerning peace in the North Sea.

Treaty of Sunderland.

Art. 1
This treaty concerns the sovereign nation of Great Britain of England and Ireland and the sovereign nation of the Union of Scandinavia.

Art. 2
All hostilities between said two nations will cease immediately.

Art. 3
Said two nations will sign a pact of mutual trust and non-aggression valid for five years. The pact can be extended at any time.

Art. 4
The Shetland Islands will become part of Great Britain of England and Ireland. The Union of Scandinavia relinquishes all claims to these islands for all time.

Art. 5
The Faroe Islands are to be returned to the Union of Scandinavia. British military are allowed on the island for a period of three years or until the end of the Great War in Europe, whichever happens first.

Art. 5-b
The Faroe Islands will be returned to Scandinavian civil administration immediately following the signing of this treaty.

Art. 6
The territory of Congo will remain under the control of the Union of Scandinavia.

Art. 6-b
Ships belonging to the nation of Great Britain of England and Ireland will have full docking rights in the territory of Congo for the purpose of refuelling.

Signed
Prime Minister Olaf Krake of Scandinavia

Awaiting the signature of King Charles IV of Great Britain
 
The opulent room was shrouded in darkness. The Emperor sat in a plush chair in the corner. He propped his significant bulk up and reached for the nearby table that contained sweet cakes, and wine. His fingers felt for one of the exquisite foreign imported cakes with its crystallized fruits. He popped a slice into his mouth chewing it whole. Next he reached for the wine and poured himself a glass slopping it down his chest in the process, staining the robe of white silk with dark purple.

He lay there slowly dozing off when a dull boom penetrated the depths of his consciousness. “Eh?” he murmured and lazily attempted to prop his great bulk up. He struggled with this tremendous task for some time before shouting for a servant to come and help him. There were always at least a dozen servants close at hand, to feed, bathe, and help him dress among many other duties. The servant a most beautiful boy with dark hair down to his shoulders, almond colored eyes and fair skin pulled him up. The Emperor made a mental note to have the boy come to his bedchamber tonight.

“What is going on out there?” he demanded, “How am I to sleep with such ruckus?”

Another explosion sounded this time closer. Much closer. It was followed by screams and gunshots. The Emperor waddled toward the large balcony that gave a view of the entire palace and its grounds. The lush gardens and fountains were ruined. Flames and gaping craters in the ground marred them. There were more gunshots and the elaborate gate was dragged aside as soldiers stormed into the palace grounds. The last of the guards threw down their weapons and surrendered. The soldiers surged forward, the Emperor stood in shock transfixed on the spot before rushing back inside his bedchamber.

“Quickly!” he screamed at his servants “Pack my things! We must leave immediately!”

The sounds of heavy boots were heard outside and the large double doors of the bedchamber were flung open and a fearsomely scarred man brandishing a pistol strode in. Behind him soldiers rushed in and began looting the chamber ripping of wall ornaments and hangings, tearing the silk off the bed covers and pocketing the gold and silver wineglasses.

“Stop! Stop!” screamed the Emperor “I command you!”

The scarred man walked forward and struck the Emperor in the stomach. The Emperor gasped and wheezed and collapsed to the floor.

“Of course Your Excellency” he sneered. He looked over the Emperor with his massive bulk and stained robes with crumbs on his face with a look of disgust.

“You are scum.”

“I am your Emperor!” he blustered “You serve me!”

“No!” shouted the scarred man “I serve the Rajputs! I serve the nation! I serve Hindustan!”

“I am the nation, the nation lives and dies through me,” responded the Emperor angrily making a vain attempt to pick himself up from the floor.

The scarred man kicked him in the face and planted his boot firmly on his chest forcing him down.

He leaned forward “ The nation is not you. The nation is greater than a pathetic mortal like you. The nation is its peoples, its ideals, ideals of dignity, duty, honor, loyalty, courage and filial piety. I am a Rajput of the old style I was told tales of the Mahabaratha and Ramayana as a boy. The idol of every Rajput boy is Rama. He epitomized all the characteristics of the Rajput race. You disgust me. You dare have the audacity to call yourself a Rajput? Pah!” He spat on the floor

The Emperor quivering with rage shouted “If you believe in loyalty then you too have not followed the ideals of the Rajputs! It is your duty to be loyal to your Emperor!”

“No it is my duty to be loyal to the nation. To Hindustan and Rajputana. And my duty to Hindustan compels me to rid the nation of such disgusting creatures as yourself.” He drew his pistol

“Wait! Please! I will give up my throne to you! I will give you all my wealth! My women! I will give you anything! Please spare my life. You believe in mercy don’t you?” whimpered the Emperor

“No”
There was a bang and the Emperor fell backward a single bullet hole through his head. His blood and brains leaked out staining the marble floor and his shocked lifeless eyes stared into the ceiling.

The scarred man turned to his soldiers. “Take everything of value.”

The men saluted and hastened to carry out their duty leaving him alone in the room with the blood of the Emperor staining his feet.

He gazed down at his right hand where a black tattoo ran along his wrist. Five words were written there.

The Right Hand of Death
 
Peace with Scandinavia? What da hellz? Does this mean peace with the HRE as well?
 
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