Jump to content


RP Member
  • Content Count

  • Joined

  • Last visited

  • Days Won


Prymont last won the day on May 30

Prymont had the most liked content!

Community Reputation

988 Excellent

About Prymont

  • Birthday 09/13/1998

Profile Information

  • Gender
  • Location
    United Kingdom


  • NS
  • Capital
    New Halsham
  • HoS
    Prime Minister Felix Frey

Recent Profile Visitors

1,721 profile views
  1. Prymont

    The Canamo Canal

    The Canamo Canal is set to be one of Prymont's most significant economic achievements in modern times. The country's economy had skyrocketed after abandoning socialism in 2017 and trade agreements with countries across the wurld were established. While the takeover of the former Hellenic Rus had been questionable at the best of times, it did mean the United States could significantly lower fuel prices due to the new access to copious amounts of crude oil. The Prymontian Rus also granted them access to the Mediargic Sea, which was something the country so sorely needed. A canal was a new dream - no longer would the United States have to rely on an expansive fleet of icebreakers to work through the unforgiving waters of the Argic Ocean, and once captains began refusing to sail to Prymont, they had to turn to air and road cargo. Finally, there was the potential to link the Canamo to the Mediargic and forget the woes of relying on the road networks of @North Dniester and @Ahrana or the high cost that came with air cargo. Sea trade was a possibility once more, and with a promising economic outlook, it was coming at the perfect time. At least, that's what the Ministry of Transport told the people. They conveniently left out that the economy had slowed as the estimated completion date of the project came and went while the canal was nowhere near ready. The icebreaker fleet had been retired for over a year, meaning that sea trade in Prymont was virtually dead. The country needed this canal but it just wasn't coming together. The blame was initially placed on building contractors. They'd come from mainland United States and refused to work in the Prymontian Rus when health and safety standards began to fall. Firm nudges from the Prymontian Rus Sarov Army were unsuccessful and a legal battle loomed. Fortunately there was an abundance of unemployed workers in the Prymontian Rus who were chomping at the bit to get back to work and earn some money. They were trained up, new machinery was purchased, and construction continued, albeit at great expense. Construction of the southern portion of the Canamo Canal by the Mediargic Sea. Recently, the troublemakers had shifted from homeland workers to local villagers. The canal was set to carve through countless towns and settlements and while the people were constantly reminded of the eventual benefits due to the upturn in footfall and the potential to create 'canal cities', there was still significant unrest. Homes were destroyed, communities torn apart, families turned on their heads, and for what? So one country could access the rest of the world? The people of the canal had been open to discussion and consideration, but when their planning committee meetings and objection tribunals were ignored by the Prymontians, they turned vicious. The Sarov were already having a tough time policing the area. They could do without the risk of a civil war. To make matters worse, the money was drying up fast. The canal had turned into a financial sinkhole and now the government had committed this much there was no turning back. Money trickled in from @Iverica and @Girkmand but the vast majority of the project was paid for by the Prymontian taxpayer, and cuts were being made wherever possible to ensure election promises were met of freezing income tax. The Prymontian Rus had ruled out any funding from the start since they already had access to the Mediargic, as did Dniester and Ahrana, and there was nobody else to benefit from the canal. Prymont had to pick up the slack, but they themselves were slacking. Political and economic commentators had picked up on the slowdown of work carried out on the canal. Criticism was thrown at the government left right and centre for committing to an overwhelmingly expensive project that was unnecessary in the grand scheme of things, since the Prymontian Rus had Mediargic access. The scheme was dubbed an excellent way to burn money and drown the hopes of the taxpayer in a better, cheaper tomorrow. Petitions with tens of thousands of signatures were submitted to the government asking for reviews and explanations only to be forgotten about through filibustering. Interviews were sidetracked as journalists queried representatives on the canal's progress, only for empty promises and vague answers to be issued. We're on track, we'll get there eventually, the opening of the canal will mark a great day for the United States. Many words could describe the canal, particularly those of a colourful vocabulary, but 'great' was not one of them, at least in a positive context. Perhaps a great failure, or the People's Party's great scam, but certainly not a great day for Prymont. Up to now, the canal had been a great waste of time, money, and effort. Would putting it right be worth it, or would it be best to leave as an eyesore, a permanent reminder of the incompetence and impossibly high hopes of these lowly northern dreamers?
  2. As briefly discussed yesterday on Discord, I think I'd let to get involved in this RP. Thanks to the help of @Seylos I've set my sights on Estaria. Prymont will be searching to increase its social and political standing in the wurld by increasing foreign & humanitarian aid efforts. Estaria is described as a massively overpopulated country suffering from famine and political unrest. Prymont will form a coalition with the Prymontian Rus to step in and assist - Prymont will be the majority funder in the operation by providing financial support and will participate in propaganda campaigns and politicking in Estaria to persuade the populace to side with them, while also providing military support to fight off the Sentist threat. Prymontian Rus will also provide minor military support and will be providing crops from southern farmlands to help remedy the famine. We'll be starting off in Zaspa to help the @Variotans reinforce their control in the area and to provide any required assistance against the Sentists. From Zaspa we'll quickly move west to Estaria and begin the campaign there. Assistance will also be provided by @Iverica - Prymont has a naval base in the country and Iverica has existing military supply routes in the area. Intelligence opportunities will also be offered by the Ivericans - I'll let him expand on that if he wishes to. This will hopefully soothe relations between the Prymontian and Iverican armed forces which were significantly hurt during the takeover of the Hellenic Rus (see: the mess that was the Battle of Salonica). Once established in Estaria the coalition will ease overpopulation by offering new opportunities in Prymont & Prymontian Rus, the former of which is suffering particularly from a small population. We'll also look to establish trade agreements with nearby nations to overcome the famine and promote domestic farming with tax incentives. A puppet government with roughly an equal level of autonomy compared to the Prymontian Rus will be set up (with elections obviously rigged to get Prymontian-backed candidates into power). Meanwhile we'll be building factories for Prymontian companies to seek cheap labour and creating military outposts so the Prymontian armed forces aren't so bloody far away from everyone and everything. Our close proximity to the ICEB also allows us to laugh at the commies and their farcical handling of a humanitarian crisis, because they're commies and can't do anything well. Yes, this means Julian Nordeng is back. Questions, critiques, advice etc is welcomed. I'll be looking at making my first post sometime next week.
  3. I'm not entirely against the idea of reducing Antargis in size as it will still be hospitable through research stations but I don't know why we need to drastically change how it looks other than "ew it's ugly". Perhaps some better reasoning would change my mind but as it stands, I'm for a size reduction of current Antargis. Additionally we don't need warm currents for colonies either. Beyond research facilities nobody has mentioned a desire for this in the OOC or IC threads, but I don't know how much this would affect ocean currents for something that isn't currently a major issue.
  4. Prymont

    Project Canamo

    Nedrefelt Farm | 1230hrs 5th December 2018 Lozovre Southern Prymontian Rus OPERATION OVERLORD: PART III Major General Arkady Gorshkov brought a lighter to the cigarette he held between his lips, covering the naked flame from the biting winds that terrorised northern Argis every winter. He inhaled deeply, embracing the nicotine as it soothed his nerves and satisfied his cravings before one of the biggest operations of his military career. Operation Overlord was never going to be a fancy operation with billions of Prynds in funding and the latest gadgets to play with. It wouldn't bring peace to the Prymontian Rus, nor would it gain Gorshkov a promotion. It would make headlines though - Gorshkov could see them now. CIRCLE OF DEATH LEADER KILLED IN SOUTHERN HIDEOUT ARKADY GORSHKOV HAILED A NATIONAL HERO So maybe the second part was cemented more in his dreams, but the first was definitely achievable. That's what they'd come here to do. In truth, the Battle of Salonica had killed of the Circle of Death, alongside Prymont's military involvement in the country, but the twisted figurehead of the terror organisation still remained. There had been no reported attacks for months, and many wondered if Dorshuyar Medvedova was still alive after all. Intelligence reports leaned towards the man being too ill to command his henchmen, and the Sarov's best guess currently was that he'd sought retirement in Lozovre in the hopes of fading away into history rather than being dying at the hand of the people he'd plagued for so long. Only Medvedova truly knew why he'd decided to step away from the spotlight, but his safety wouldn't be guaranteed for much longer. The pretty woman on the PRTV weather forecast had said more snow was due in the evening, so the calm weather during the daytime must be seized. Ideally Gorshkov wanted to strike under the cover of darkness, but if the weather was to be anything like last night, he'd be sending his men on a suicide mission. Arkady took another drag of the cigarette and brought a pair of binoculars to his eyes. He wasn't quite sure what he was looking for - maybe a white flag, or a banner stating HE'S IN HERE with an arrow pointing to a bedroom window. He found nothing like that, but there was a thin plume of smoke rising steadily from the farmhouse's chimney. A sign of life. That was enough for Arkady. There was no time like the present. He walked back into the cover of the trees, headed for the small camp that his men had erected for the operation. He sought out his tent, and within that a radio. Communications had been established between this camp and another nearby. Between them they had the farmstead surrounded, but discussions were limited to prevent the Circle from snooping and learning too much. Perhaps they were already doing that, but there wasn't exactly any easy way to escape. The only nearby road was covered in thick snow and any other method of exit would only leave them vulnerable to attack. They were sitting ducks awaiting their death and they knew it. "Camp South, do you read? Over." "Loud and clear, North. What is it? Over." "I think we're ready. We're going to get moving in a minute. Get your men armed and ready for a fight. Over." "Copy that... Are you going to do a speech? Err, over." "What? What for?" "You know, a speech. Rally the troops, raise the morale, get the blood pumping. You can't kill bloody Dorshuyar Medvedova without a speech!" "I... maybe? I'm not good with stuff like that. Listen, just get ready. We'll move at 1240 hours. Over and out." Gorshkov set the radio down and took a deep breath. His breath condensed and circled in the air before him before fading away into nothing. He hoped his men weren't about to follow the same fate - fading away, being forgotten, martyrs to a lost cause. He took another drag of his cigarette and pulled a chair in front of his tent to stand atop. He'd never really had to make a speech before and he wasn't sure one was needed now. Everyone knew what was at stake and what this operation meant for the country, and yet here he was clearing his throat and calling for his soldiers to gather round. "Alright boys, I suppose this is it. We all know the plan and we know what we're here to do. God knows how many of those scumbags are hiding in that farm but we find them and we shoot them. Dorshuyar Medvedova is a dead man walking and I don't care who gets the glory of putting him in his grave, so long as it's done today. He has terrorised our country for years and now we have a chance to end it. Many will argue that what went down in Salonica truly killed off the Circle but I don't think so - I think today is more important. Not only are we killing the one man that has brought misery and fear upon this country for so long, but we're proving ourselves as warriors. Before the motherland went to shit, we were nobody. Since then I've seen you all come together and grow together, and through thick and thin we've reclaimed our home. Today marks the final piece of the puzzle. Today marks the day that we show Yegerov and his cronies that we're not just a bunch of Ruskies that can hold a gun. Today, we prove that the Sarov army can do what the Prymontians and the Ivericans can't. We go to that farmstead, we kill those bastards, and we go home heroes!" A smattering of applause ensued, quickly doused by hushes in fear of the sound travelling across the fields to the enemy. Major General Gorshkov was on a roll. He'd pioneered the reconnaissance and spying that led to the intelligence breakthrough, he was the mastermind behind the operation, and now he was about to lead his men into a battle that would earn them at least half a page in the history books. He'd done everything right so far. All that was left to do was kill Dorshuyar Medvedova. "TAKE COVER!!" A Sarov soldier shouted as a comrade before him was showered in bullets. Nearby soldiers dived behind bales of hay and collapsed wooden wagons, ducking their heads as the chattering of semi-automatic rifles sounded from the barn. The remaining terrorists were fighting like a cat backed into a corner and weren't going to give up easily. The honour of defending their leader was at stake and they'd pull out all the stops to ensure Medvedova lived. They'd sensed that something was going to happen, but that something being a fully blown invasion certainly took them by surprise. In their defence they'd reacted with feverish haste, organising themselves into well-guarded groups dotted around the compound. Most of the firepower was now concentrated on the biggest building in the farm, a rusting metal barn that threatened to collapse on a windy day, never mind in the midst of a battle. "GRENADE!" Another soldier lobbed a hand grenade towards an open window at the top of the barn. Panicked shouting followed before an almighty explosion that sent shards of metal and splintered wood flying across the courtyard. As the dust settled, the Sarov looked up to see that the window had been replaced by a still-smoking crater in the front of the barn. Cries of pain from within were soon silenced as the soldiers breached the building. The Circle of Death were putting up a fight, but they were no match for an organised army. They had successfully employed the element of surprise countless times on the people of the former Hellenic Rus, but when turned against them, their most useful tactic was their downfall. Had they been given an ounce of time to prepare then perhaps they could've put up a stronger defence while Medvedova fled, but as it was, the Sarov were slicing through them like a hot knife through butter. This was only part of the battle - just across the courtyard, the house was being painstakingly ransacked in a bid to find the one kill everyone wanted. Hiding spots in nooks and crannies were expected and the building was torn apart in a chaotic precision, but their flames of hope were extinguished as the number of rooms left to search dwindled. There were pockets of henchmen as a last line of defence, but resistance was futile. They were swiftly eliminated and forgotten about. Their lives were unimportant. The Sarov were only here for one man, and he was not to be found. Searches in the farm's outbuildings were equally as fruitless. Decrepit stables housed aged machinery from years gone by. Dead bodies quickly joined them as the Circle of Death became martyrs to the cause of distracting their attackers to save their boss, but they hid no secrets. Dorshuyar Medvedova was nowhere to be seen, and Major General Gorshkov was growing frantic. "Any luck?" A high-ranking officer from the south camp joined him, his rifle slung lazily by his waist as if he weren't at the epicentre of a gunfight. "No, of course not. He's f*cking gone," Gorshkov spat in despair, his eyes darting across the compound as if he would spot his target sneaking away. "The barn is empty, they're not finding anything in the house, and they can't find anything in these other buildings either. He's just not here." "Surely he has to be somewhere, right? Where could he go? Do you think they saw us coming and got him away?" "No chance, how would they have known? All of the intel points to him being here. He's been here for months. He's meant to be sick, they wouldn't just move him." "What do we do then? Just keep looking? We can set up a perimeter, make sure nobody gets out?" Gorshkov nodded and the officer walked away, reeling off commands into his radio for his men to establish an impenetrable circle around the farmstead. Gorshkov busied himself by entering the house and accompanying his men in their desperate hunt for Medvedova. With every passing second, his fears of leaving empty handed worsened. This was not how it was meant to go. "What do you think we should do?" "I don't know, I guess we just wait." Privates Ermakov and Zuyev had been given roles of providing covering fire while the farmstead was initially stormed, and once their comrades had the situation under control they were without orders. Zuyev continued to shoot a couple of bullets here and a few more there, mainly aimed at the sky to make his superiors think he was still busy, but Ermakov had given up. They'd totally overestimated the firepower needed and now they had too many soldiers contributing nothing. When they'd been told they were enlisted for Operation Overlord they'd grown giddy at the thought of being the one to place a bullet between Medvedova's eyes, but now the reality of the situation had set in and they realised that they, like many others, were part of an insurance plan. They probably wouldn't be needed, but they were on hand if they were. The orders to establish a perimeter quickly came in, and the men rose from their cover to help build the formation. As they slowly moved back, Zuyev spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. He spun around towards a portion of dense foliage to find a lanky, hunched figure scuttling away. Without a second thought the soldier raised his gun and fired, sending the escapee sprawling into the snow. He approached the corpse with Ermakov who turned the body over with his foot. "Suka... Roman... What the f*ck have you done?" Zuyev pushed Ermakov aside to get a better look, and suddenly his knees felt very weak beneath him. "Roman Zuyev, you lucky son of a b*tch. You've f*cking killed Medvedova!" "Yes, yes, what about the body? Do you have it?" Premier Yegerov paced his office as he spoke on the phone to an Arkady Gorshkov, some Sarov commander he'd never heard of that'd supposedly headed the operation that killed Dorshuyar Medvedova. Typically he refused to converse with these trained monkeys at all, and when he had no other choice he'd do so from the comfort of his office chair, but this was different. Sure, he was talking to somebody he typically wouldn't tolerate, but they were a key figure behind the demise of an organisation that'd haunted Yegerov's land for years. At last, his people were free. This would do wonders for his popularity polls. "Yes Premier, we have the body. We found a coffin lying around and -" "Where is it?" "Premier, please, if you give me a moment I shall explain to you - " "Where is the body? Don't tell me you've f*cking lost the body, scum!" Yegerov had planned the display of Medvedova's corpse down to the finest detail. It would be a grand parade, carried through the streets of Salonica, an exposed figure for the citizens to berate and launch vegetables at. Then they'd reach Capitol Avenue and Medvedova would be winched up into the air, reminding the people of the torment they'd endured under his hand and the freedom they could now enjoy. Iskander Yegerov would be there to oversee it all, reminding his people that this was possible only because of him. He couldn't wait, and if those useless pissing Sarov twats had lost the body there'd be hell to pay. "For f*ck sake Premier, it's on the way! It has been sent!" Gorshkov retaliated, frustrated that the head of state wouldn't let him get a word in edgeways. "It has been sent." Satisfied with the confirmation, Yegerov ended the call and dialled for his right hand man, Varg Alme. "Varg, you'll never guess what. They've done it. It has been sent." [OOC] This marks the start of the end of Project Canamo. I'll continue to pursue an expansion in the south in this thread, mainly by eliminating any remaining pockets of the Circle of Death and bringing peace to the southern part of the country. For now, this is it. The Circle of Death is by and large a thing of the past, the country isn't a rambling mess anymore, and the people of the Prymontian Rus can rest easy under their new overlords. Big thanks to @Ahrana, @Iverica and @Fulgistan for participating, and thank you for reading.
  5. Government enquiry launched to investigate the integration of Prymontian Rus SALONICA, THE PRYMONTIAN RUS - The Prymontian government have announced the creation of a national enquiry board that will investigate the potential integration of the Prymontian Rus. The Rus Integration Committee is composed of politicians from a variety of political parties, as well as state government leaders, business executives, and economic analysts, and will determine if the integration is feasible and beneficial. Currently the Prymontian Rus is a protectorate of the United States, a title it has held since 2018, granting it full autonomy with its own government, charter, and laws. The Committee will spend eight months analysing the redevelopment of the Prymontian Rus and creating financial and economic forecasts comparing independence against integration. The Canamo Canal, which is funded primarily by the Prymontian government, will be a decisive key factor. Currently the canal falls within Prymontian Rus borders, and it's understood that Prime Minister Felix Frey is eager to place the project within the boundaries of his own country. An independence referendum is also tentatively set for early 2021 and will be crucial in determining whether the territory becomes one with the United States or not. Salonica's Capitol Avenue, the capital of the Prymontian Rus and a vital area for analysis under the Rus Integration Committee. Antargic Treaty council meeting held in Canastota CANASTOTA, OSTPORT - One of the most significant global scientific collaborative projects of modern history, the Antargic Treaty, has arrived in Canastota. The third summit of the treaty is being held in the prestigious Røvik Hotel in Canastota's city centre. The meeting has attracted attendees from all four corners of the world as they move to become a signatory and take a slice of the Antargis pie. The meeting is being headed by Minister for Energy & the Environment Oliver Remmen, with several important topics of discussion on the table. Remmen is keen to revise the zone management within Antargis, which is currently dominated by the Trans-Continental Science Initiative and the Entente of Oriental States. It's also understood that Remmen will push to declare Prymont as the home of the treaty, since the organisation is yet to establish a permanent headquarters. TCSI's Simon Station, the only permanent structure currently on Antargis. Dash cams made mandatory for all new vehicles NEW HALSHAM - In what is a landmark decision for road safety, the United States government has mandated that all new cars sold in Prymont must come with front and rear dash cams. The news comes after speed limits on motorways were abolished just last month, and as the coalition government seeks to reduce road traffic collisions and insurance fraud. Government and private studies have proven that dash cams reduce the chances of risky driving by up to 75%, and have also found that insurance claims that include dash cam footage are 90% more likely to be determined in favour of the victim. All existing cars on Prymontian roads must have a front-facing dash cam fitted at their next annual road worthiness test, and rear-facing dash cams will be required by 2023. Critics are wary of the motives behind the new legislation after the Kaldestad Aamot Group, the United States' largest employer recently purchased RoadSight, one of the world's leading dash cam manufacturers. It was revealed that KAG's CEO Erik Bruun made a "significant but undisclosed" donation to the People's Party after an email leak in March, leading many to believe that the government are working on the behalf of big businesses rather than road safety. In an official statement, Minister of Transport Jakob Bakketun said "this is a monumental day for the safety of the Prymontian road network", and promised that "thousands of lives will be saved by this initiative every year." The statement was void of any comment regarding Bruun's potential involvement in the making of the law. Dash cams on older cars will have to be retrofitted, as this RoadSight model shows.
  6. @Orioni One of the biggest topics I want to discuss is the zone management. As I understand it, it's currently split into two between EOS & TCSI. Really I think that's quite unfair. What would be fairer would be going with an idea discussed way back when of splitting the continent up into 24 equal zones, probably following the time zones. 12 could also work if there aren't enough nations signed onto the treaty to manage 24 individual zones. As much as it benefits Prymont for the TCSI to control a significant portion of the continent, overall it's far fairer to split it up equally between all signatories. I'd also like to establish a permanent headquarters for the treaty - naturally, I think Prymont would be a fitting location but I'm open to suggestions from other attendees. I also have a bit of a bone to pick with EOS. On the forums they're described as the following: As per the treaty, particularly the prohibition of any military projects on the continent of Antargis, I believe that as described above, the EOS is breaching the treaty by definition. If you'd like to re-define the organisation then please do, but it'll be something else I'd like to bring up and discuss. The Trans-Continental Science Initiative, as per the name, is a scientific organisation with no military ties whatsoever. By my understanding, the same cannot be said for the EOS. Finally, before any newcomers sign the treaty, I'd like to comb through it and make any changes needed based upon decisions made at the summit and work around any potential loopholes. Not that there are any, but I'm yet to thoroughly read through it so I'll have to sit down and do that before the end of the meeting. To summarise: Reorganise zone management into fair, equal segments Allocate a HQ for the treaty Investigate EOS' involvement as a military alliance Cover up any holes in the wording of the treaty
  7. @Salvia @Gallambria @Fulgistan @Variota @Acadia It's been two weeks since the starter post went up. I'll be pressing on with post #2 shortly. I also believe @Orioni has been working on a response
  8. Feeling very targeted right now, Jules.
  9. IC thread here. Writing arrivals is unnecessary unless you want to. Let's just dive straight into this.
  10. The Røvik Hotel | 1030hrs 5th May 2020 Canastota United States of Prymont Oliver Remmen, Minister of Energy & the Environment, beamed at the diplomats and politicians sat before him. They'd travelled from far and wide, the summit attracting attention from all four corners of the globe, for one united purpose. Since 2017, the Antargic Regulation Treaty of Human Activities (ARTHA) had safeguarded the southern continent of Antargis, promoting scientific research and protecting the peaceful, untouched lands from being spoiled. Prymont was known as an environmentally-friendly nation, and Remmen was very proud to be serving his country in what he considered the most important role in the cabinet. Sure, the Prime Minister was running the country, and the Health Minister kept people happy and healthy, and perhaps the Defence Minister made sure they were safe, but none of it was possible without the Energy & the Environment office. Oliver Remmen was promoting the wellbeing of the environment, not only at home but on the world stage. Hopefully this conference bore the fruits of his labour, and would show the Prime Minister what a stellar job he was doing. "Good morning everyone," he started, his eyes meeting those of the attendees as he sought acceptance and comfort amongst his peers, "and welcome to the third Antargic Council meeting. I'm absolutely honoured to welcome you all to the United States, and I'm confident that we can make some good progress today." He glanced down at his laptop, reminding himself of the long-winded name of the treaty while reaching for a glass of water. "The Antargic Regulation Treaty of Human Activities has been a bit of a success story so far. The Trans-Continental Science Initiative has been operating the Simon Station for over two years now, and we've already seen some great research emerging from the facility. The station is kept as sparsely populated as possible throughout the year, and as far as I'm aware there's little other human activity on the continent. Naturally, this is doing Antargis wonders, and it remains an unspoiled place of natural beauty. I'm delighted to see some new faces today, and I hope that we can welcome you all on board as we seek to protect and preserve Antargis." On the agenda, most noticeably, were finding a permanent HQ for the Council, reviewing the zone management, and revisiting the entire wording of the treaty to ensure it was up to date before the new signatories joined. Plus, Remmen didn't doubt that the attendees would bring their own topics of discussion too. "So, ladies and gentlemen - where shall we begin?"
  11. Deopolis International Airport | 1300hrs 5th November 2019 Marenesia Conference Salvia Fabian Thorvaldsen breathed a sigh of relief as the plane touched down. He opened his eyes, dabbing at his brow with a tissue and taking a sip from his water bottle. For a man with twenty years of experience in the USP Air Force, he was terrified of flying. Before he'd signed up, it was just another mode of transport, like driving or sailing. However, an accident during a training flight which saw him accidentally eject as the jet came in to land put him off flying for life and resigned him to a career on solid ground. He was proud of the work he'd done at USPAF Skatval as part of the WARD project, and after leaving the military he'd gone on to an executive role in Girkmand's National Weapon and Machining Works. A fair few years abroad left him yearning for home, and upon his return he sought a career in politics - mostly because he thought it'd be something easy to retire with. In truth, being the Defence Minister was far easier than serving in the military. He knew the industry and where the shortcomings were, and it meant he was able to keep in touch with old friends too. Mostly he was left on his own to crack on and get the job done, and the fact that the Prime Minister rarely bothered him meant that he was doing a good job, or that he was doing a forgetful job. Either way, it was an easy pay check in a rewarding role. Most of the time he got on just fine. Most of the time. His job rarely asked him to go abroad, and even rarer was it a requirement to fly. The advance notice meant he could've arrived by boat, but a plane was far more convenient and there weren't really any government-owned boats he could employ for such a journey. The plane rolled to a stop away from the runway and an aide motioned for him to prepare to disembark. The minister unbuckled his seatbelt and stretched his hands, noticing that his knuckles had turned white from gripping onto the armrests. Bloody flying. He patted his sweaty palms against his blazer to dry them off as the door of the aircraft was pulled open. It would serve no real use, as the sweat would come thick and fast thanks to the overwhelmingly invasive Salvian heat. He'd spent some time in Iverica with the WARD system but had never experienced heat of this magnitude. He readjusted his collar as he descended the stairs, wishing that the conference was being held somewhere closer to home. It was snowing back in Prymont and he could only hope and pray that thinking of the plummeting temperatures would cool him down. In reality he'd need a drink, something icy and strong. He wiped his hand once more as he approached the President, forcing a grin of sorts as they exchanged pleasantries. Like arse is it nice to be here. The idea of travelling abroad for TRIDENT meetings wouldn't be so bad if it were kept to the tricontinental area, but the safety of the region took precedent over the comfort of a minister for a few days. This is an easy job, he reminded himself as he sat down for the welcome speech, but it'll be easier once we get into a car with some air conditioning.
  12. Radio Control Room | 1605hrs 27th April 2020 Simon Station, King Tomasso Land Antargis -18.8°C "Hey Max - we can call people from here, right?" Roland Kolsrud knocked on the door of Max Werfel's office, hanging in the doorway with a tray of mugs. He glanced around the room before him, feeling utterly lost in the mess of wires and screens that Max called home. This was the radio control room, and as Max was the station's current sole radio engineer, he was Roland's best and only hope at communicating with the outside world. The Magnaean radio expert leaned back in his chair, pulling his headphones from his ears as he craned his neck towards his visitor. "Well, in a sense. You can radio people from here, sure, but really it's only meant to be for getting in touch with the Initiative, you know? Not personal calls." "That's great," Roland smiled as he stepped into the room, pushing the door closed with his foot before setting the tray down on a desk amongst a spaghetti mess of wires and cables. "I brought you some tea." "Err, thanks... I don't drink tea." "Oh you'll like this, it's a nice Fulgistani blend. My mother gave me a packet when I lef -- shit, I'm sorry," Roland cursed as he dropped the mug, its boiling hot contents spilling across the desk. Max jumped out of his seat to lift the wires and joined in at cursing his clumsy colleague. The biologist dabbed at the tea with a tissue, his efforts only helping to spread the liquid nearer to a large stack of... well, he didn't quite know what it was, some sort of nerdy technology probably, but he knew he wasn't helping much. "Hah, mother always said I had butter fingers. Oh, that makes me miss butter... and fingers..." The Prymontian's eyes drifted as he daydreamed, remembering the times back on terra firma when he could eat whatever he wanted, and didn't have to ration himself according to what the station director declared as a 'luxury' or not. As if that man knew what he was talking about? Fingers were a necessity, and Roland wouldn't stand for the blasphemy of them being anything else for much longer. "Fingers?" Max queried, quickly eyeing his visitor's hands to count his digits. Had the poor soul suffered from a bad case of frostbite already? "Chocolate fingers, you know? Surely you have those in Magnaeus, with all the chocolate you have. Perfect with tea!" Roland raised his mug, sipping at the warm, sugary contents and sighing happily as he perched himself atop the desk. "You wanted to contact someone? From the Initiative? Are you having problems?" Max pressed the matter at hand, shooing Roland from his new seat to recover a laptop that wasn't quite designed to carry the mass of an stocky, clumsy, good-for-nothing biologist. "No, not from the Initiative. I want to call my mother! I'm bored of writing to her, my hand gets cramp you see? It'd be easier to just talk to her. Oh, and do we have WiFi? I have a picture with some new friends that I want her to see." "Sure, I'll set up a line for you," Max grumbled as he began fiddling with some cables. He'd already given up on trying to usher Roland away from his little haven and accepted defeat. The man was irritating, but he also almost felt sad for him. The station had been going through a rough patch lately, what with weather balloon launches failing and a bunch of penguins the team were monitoring getting lost - seriously, how could you lose them when you'd fitted trackers? - and perhaps a call home would lift his spirits. Max rather enjoyed the isolation, on the other hand. He'd never particularly enjoyed the company of others, and often wondered how he'd ended up working as a telecommunications engineer in a cramped, claustrophobic office in the middle of Venege. When the opportunity arose for him to take a career break and go and work on the loneliest continent on Eurth he was the first to hand in his application, and almost fell down the stairs of his apartment on the way to the airport after his acceptance. Being thousands of kilometres away from civilisation was the dream for Max. His introverted nature betrayed his job, which was to connect people and bring them together through radio, but they weren't talking to him, and that kept him happy. Unfortunately, he also had to share the station with morons like Roland, whose academic prosperity belied his common sense, or lack thereof. "Working on anything interesting?" The scientist asked, cradling his mug as if to absorb its heat. For a man that was born and bred in Antargis' northern hemisphere counterpart, Roland was bloody awful at dealing with the cold. He'd rather spend his days on a warm Variotan beach, enjoying the rays and observing the exotic local biology, which was filled with silicone and attracted to him only for his salary. It was wonderful, but to afford such luxuries, he had to endure Antargis. Sadly, the Variotans were yet to join the TCSI, despite Roland urging his pen pals in the country to lobby for their politicians to discuss the topic in his numerous letters. They probably hadn't replied because of his butchering of the Variotan language, not because he wasn't sending any money. He'd already explained that when he left Prymont. "Nope." "I've recently started studying some albatrosses. Wonderful birds, they are. They drop by now and then and I give them some scraps. They love it, they do." "Aren't you supposed to, like, let them be wild? That sounds like you're on the way to domesticating them." "No no, they're not stupid, they know it's only a little treat. Did you know their proper diet is made up of fish and krill?" "Why are birds so far inland anyway? You don't get fish here." "Penguins come inland. We've been following some of them too! Fascinating little creatures. Quite vicious too. One stole Harald's sandwich and wouldn't give it back!" "Didn't you lose a bunch of penguins lately?" "Well yes, but --" "And that weather balloon thing didn't go well either. Not having much luck here, are you?" Max waved an open palm in the air, gesticulating towards the general Prymontians rather than just Roland - although he doubted the man was having a successful time either. "No, not really. They're meant to be increasing our funding though, did you hear? Something about proper training and more resources. Maybe that'll turn things around for us." "Where'd you hear that?" For a telecommunications expert, Max was not privy to this titbit of information. "They're meant to be announcing it at one of those conferences soon. Haven't had one in a while have they? Oh and that reminds me, one of my friends in Variota said there was some interest in them joining the treaty. Oh she's lovely, my friend. Stunning blonde hair, deep blue eyes, really big --" "Here, I've got you a line. It should link up to Prymont and then it's just like a regular call. Don't take too long." Max handed over the headphones and quickly vacated the room, shuddering at the thought of what Roland got up to in his spare time. He wondered if it was his mother he was even calling. He tried to shake the image as he headed to the canteen, hoping to find some booze to numb the pain of his most recent exchange.
  13. I'd like to reopen this request now that I've returned to the community. Could I have Point 2 re-marked on the map as reserved? I notice that it was recently removed. The roleplay for this will be covered in the Canamo Canal and Project Canamo. The Operation Overlord story arc will detail most of this as the Prymontian Rus Sarov Army seeks to eliminate the leader of the Circle of Death and remove any errant strands of terrorism in the south. Points 3 & 4 are still future goals but I'm not concerned about them just yet.
  14. Prymont

    Project Canamo

    The Hawk's Office | 1109hrs 2nd December 2018 Salonica The Prymontian Rus OPERATION OVERLORD: PART II To say that the Premier had been swamped with work would be an understatement. The start of his term had been easy enough, but as his country began to rebuild and rise from the ashes, the work had poured in. Of course, he'd been overwhelmed due to his lack of forethought. Organising a cabinet was not an initial priority, but once Yegerov began dreaming about the piles of paperwork that towered on his desk and how he couldn't open his email inbox without crashing the website, he realised something had to be done. A cabinet was haphazardly thrown together, to be reconsidered and refined at a later date. Iskander didn't care for efficiency or doing something properly - he cared about getting the work out of his office. Obviously this band-aid solution didn't work, and the issues and requests were still coming in faster than he could delegate them out. It was almost as if a government that'd been thrown together with little consideration, made out of a country that was on its knees and already half dead, wasn't going to function properly straight away. That never occurred to the Premier, who was spending most of his days yelling at his secretary after another pile of papers had fallen from his desk, scattering across his lush carpet and making an awful sound whenever he stepped on them. He'd almost started a fire after carelessly discarding a cigarette, which finally prompted more action. Another cabinet review left him satisfied, at least for the time being. Now he wasn't arguing with his secretary, he had the time to argue with Varg Alme, the powerful but shady Prymontian businessman that funded his campaign and made his problems go away. Yesterday they'd argued about a high rise block of apartments that was being constructed across the road. Apparently the architecture was outdated and careless, and ruined Varg's ideal aesthetic for the city. Iskander couldn't care less about what the buildings looked like. Today, it had been the Canamo Canal, one of the few recurring topics of heated debate in the Hawk's Office. Alme had argued that the project was taking too long - Yegerov didn't care how long the canal took, as long as he wasn't the one funding it. "Just leave it to the Prymontians, it'll be done eventually," the Premier muttered dismissively, adjusting his glasses as he dove into the next email. This one was from an angry mother in Pokrovsk who had lost her husband in the USPGF's careless slaughter and demanded compensation. He'd have to remind his secretary to filter anything containing 'Pokrovsk' straight into spam. "Leave it to the Prymontians? After the Battle of Salonica, why would you want to leave anything to the Prymontians?" "Varg, drop it. It's their project, it's their money, it's their problem. Where do our funds come from? Your pockets aren't endless, as much as you'd like to believe they are, and the national vault was ransacked by the Circle of Death bastards. We don't have the money!" An awkward silence followed Yegerov's outburst. He called through to his secretary to bring refreshments as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. Alme lit a cigar. "What's this?" He asked, picking up some paper from the top of one of many teetering towers. In his hands were satellite imagery, depicting a farmstead in the southern country. It wasn't much on its own, but coupled with an email... "Here we are," the Premier retrieved a packet from another pile, handing it to his counterpart. Varg was holding the first documents of Operation Overlord, the brainchild of Thor Rønning and Arkady Gorshkov, two commanders high up in the Sarov Army, that would eventually overthrow the reclusive Circle of Death leader. Alme shuffled the documents between his hands, skimming the contents before focusing on an email sent by Commander Rønning. He held his cigar in one hand, its thick smoke rising lazily in the air. "Have you read this? Properly?" "Of course. It's just more bullshit from the Sarov. They'll say and do anything for a penny." "It does sound like they're certain that this is where Medvedova is hiding. This could be the end, Iskander. This could be a good success story." "You don't believe them do you? Surely not?" Iskander's voice was filled with doubt, verging on ridicule almost, as he questioned the thoughts of his opposite. The Sarov were a bunch of common Ruskies that could handle a gun. It was beyond their comprehension to locate the leader of a terrorist group, never mind successfully eliminate him. "If it's just a penny like you say, it's worth a shot isn't it? I'll pay for it. They're only asking for food, ammunition and fuel, they don't want the world." The Premier sighed, pulling a fresh handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing at his furrowed brow. Leaving the Sarov to execute a mission devised by their own minds sounded like a bad joke, but if it wasn't coming out of the public pocket... "Go on then. If you're paying. But if this leads to the return of the Circle, your head is on the line, not mine!" Nedrefelt Farm | 1600hrs 4th December 2018 Lozovre Southern Prymontian Rus "Can you see anything?" "Yes... there's some movement in the barn. I think there's some light or something. And the farmstead is fully lit too. I can see shadows in the windows." "Really? Let me see." "No! It's night and it's snowing. Of course I can't f*cking see anything!" "Are you sure? Those are my best binoculars. Grandfather used them in the Argic War. Maybe you're using them the wrong way round." "You're pissing me off Roman. If you don't shut up I'll shoot you instead of Medvedova." "Ermakov! Zuyev! Shut up and concentrate!" The squabbling soldiers settled down at their lieutenant colonel's command. It'd been a tiresome day for the Prymontian Rus Sarov Army, and now they were taking their frustrations out on one another. Petty internal conflicts were the result of a long, arduous day of hiking, after the convoy's last snowplough had succumbed to rust. With the trucks unable to press through the thick snow that covered the road that passed Nedrefelt Farm, the squadron were forced to make the rest of the journey on foot. They'd traipsed miles through a heavy blanket of snow, their khakis sodden and their boots flooded, before setting up camp a kilometre from the farmstead. They'd nestled themselves amongst a small wood, and while the land was fairly flat, there was a slight elevation that gave them an advantage, albeit with negligible gains. Privates Gregory Ermakov and Roman Zuyev had been placed on surveillance, and were not enjoying it one bit. "Do you see anything though? Seriously?" "Roman I've already told you, I can't see shit." The snow had been bad all day, falling thick and fast to coat the ground, but now it was worsening and fears arose of a blizzard. Any opportunity to eliminate the head of a terror organisation that's plagued an entire country for years was to be seized, but perhaps a bit of forward thinking would've led to some better planning. With this weather, it was highly unlikely that Medvedova and his men would move out anyway. Further back in the woods, tents were already being erected and the next phase of the operation was being refined. Major General Arkady Gorshkov was taking command of the operation, reporting directly back to General Rønning who remained in Fort Sarov. Both men had an idea of how the operation would pan out, but until they could get a clear look at the farmstead with their own eyes, planning ahead was near enough impossible. After all, they weren't an advanced military with billions of Prynds in funding and the latest technology at their disposal. Instead, they were a bunch of reformed quasi-communists that knew how to pull a trigger. Major General Gorshkov had five hundred men at his disposal, pulled from points around the country, and the full support of his superior. Soldiers travelling from the south would surround the farm from their end, closing off the road - although the snow was doing that anyway - and ruling out any obvious escape routes. A rough draft of the plan was to just circle the farm and storm the remnants of the Circle from all angles, although they were unsure what tricks Medvedova and his men held up their sleeve. Procrastinating would get them nowhere either; if they waited too long, they were sure to be discovered and their element of surprise would be out of the window. They had to act fast, although Gorshkov wasn't quite sure what to do. He up and left the tent, taking a stroll to the edge of their cover where two soldiers had been placed to watch over the farmstead for any movement and to gauge the playing field, although Gorshkov was beginning to realise how difficult that would be. "Men, any progress?" Zuyev peered over his shoulder to see who was disturbing them, and immediately stood to attention after seeing the rank on Gorshkov's name tag. "The f*ck do you think? Open your eyes," Ermakov grumbled dismissively, his eyes planted against the binoculars. "My eyes are open, Private. Try opening yours." Ermakov pulled the binoculars from his face and scrambled to stand up once he recognised who was speaking to him. He cursed himself under his breath as he brought his hand up to salute, fighting against his own balance after his rapid rise had brought on a bout of dizziness. "I'm sorry, sir. There's nothing... even if it wasn't snowing, it'd be too dark to see at all," Ermakov explained, his hands trembling as he awaited a bollocking. "I see," Gorshkov nodded, holding his hand out for the binoculars and taking a look for himself. "Hopeless. We'll have to wait for sunrise before we make our next move. Keep watching boys." The superior held the binoculars out for Ermakov and could see the relief flooding across his face. Despite their new official name and the fact that they were a genuine military entity, these men were still just that - regular men, plucked from a deprived country that they sought to defend. They hadn't undergone years of rigorous training, and yet they were doing a mighty fine job of cleansing their home and making themselves proud. The circumstances were against them, and Gorshkov knew that. He was in the same boat. They were all in the same boat. While hurling abuse at a young lad would do Gorshkov's stress levels good for five minutes, what would it ultimately achieve? He'd tear up his team on the very first day of their most important mission yet. Gorshkov didn't know what the future held for his men. It was likely that many of them would be massacred by the remaining terrorists, who would attack like a cornered cat, but he needed them united if he wanted to win. If there was one thing Arkady was sure of, it was that he didn't want to lose.
  15. @Shffahkia Thanks for your input. Definitely solves a problem with the Mercier station. Regarding your issues with the wording of the treaty, please feel free to send a delegate who can mention this; alternatively, if you don't feel like participating, it can be brought up otherwise. I was hoping to look into the treaty once more before the conference starts to get a hold on anything like this and really refine it / bring it up to date. Additionally, I wanted to really focus on the division of the land. While it benefits me to have the TCSI effectively control a large portion of Antargis, I think it'd be much fairer globally for more nations to have a vested interest in Antargis, and could also lead to more RP opportunities as each nation / collective / whatever focuses on their piece of land. One idea is to separate it by timezones, thus having 24 equal segments administered by 24 different countries. We could also look at just 12 if there's less active interest. But revisiting how the continent is managed is a priority, I think.
  • Create New...