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      Hello new member   02/03/2018

      Welcome to Europa. This site is part of the region of Europa in the online game NationStates. The region of Europa is a diverse community of nations, with a wide range of political and ideological values, working together through various institutions and alliances - at least when they're not threatening to go to war with each other. Whether you want to play it safe with a liberal democracy, set up a communist regime, or rule your citizens with an iron fist and the threat of turning them into dog food, Europa is a great region to play in. As one of the oldest regions in the game, everybody who's anybody wants to try their hand at ruling their own country right here in Europa. Just head on over to the Forum and have a read through the sticky threads. If you're curious about how all of this work, we've included some helpful links to get you started. A good place to start is our Hitchhickers Guide to Europa. Roleplayers will be glad to see our honest and fair RP rules. Check out our map versions and discover how to apply. Experiencing problem with this website? Our helpdesk is always open. Have fun! -- The Europans Team
Iverica

ATARA Founding Ceremony

Attendance Poll  

11 members have voted

This poll is closed to new votes
  1. 1. Can you confirm your delegate's attendance?

    • Yes- Delegate will attend the ceremony
    • No- Delegate cannot attend (will be announced as absent)
      0
  2. 2. If "No"- Delegate cannot attend:

    • I will send a Representative just for the signing (means you will only be posting for the signing)
      0
    • I cannot send a Representative (your nation will not be confirmed as member/observer until next assembly)
      0
    • Attending- Not Applicable


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0800h IST | December 12, 2017
Altaria International Airport- Terminal 1, Arrivals
Porto Altaria, Iverica

With great dignity, Delegate Gary Truman descended down the steps of the Aamotech Virksomhetstråle coated in the distinct grayish blue colors of the Federal Republic of Girkmand, so generously provided by the Federal Ministry for Foreign Affairs. Walking behind him were two younger assistants and three sturdy secret service men.

The party continued down the red carpet, waving and posing subtle smiles for the press as they made their way to the welcoming ATARA officials at a leisurely pace. Moving on from person to person trading salutations and firm handshakes, Truman eventually pauses in front of Foreign Minister Desdemona Tomas-Morra to accept the ATARA pin on his chest in a symbolic moment for the co-operative.

After a short exchange of pleasantries the group moved further on to the photo shoot. Glaring blue ATARA crests shining as the cameras flash, the broad smiles and handshakes of the two representatives became immortalized.

94M9dqb.png

:pic: Truman has entered the building.

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12 December 2017, 09:00
Altaria International Airport- Terminal 1, Arrivals
Porto Altaria, Iverica

The Ahranaian Plane carrying Lady Madeleine Eriksson landed in Ivercia for the ATARA Ceremony that she was to be part of, considering the flight risk for any Royal is high currently Madeleine stayed to her Promise to be here today. She arrived a 09:00 with five Royal Regimental Guards whose orders were to protect The Lady with their lives if needed. The entourage was just a two Secretaries and one Assistant. It was unclear what all would take place as she lost her itinerary after the recent events that caused a Royal Scare for the Household. 

As she stepped out of the Plane the Guards walked along the side of her as she walked down the stairs to where she would walk into the Airport and proceed from there. As she walked she looked to the left and right to see some of the landscape around her, she felt safe and secure as she felt as someone was watching her from above. She could feel eyes moving with her every move, she was certain that no assassination would happen here. She walked into the terminal and was now ready to begin the day.

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9:30 IST/ Altaria airport

-Terminal 1, Arrivals
 

 

Julian Merter looked trough the window of his jet, observing the Altaria international airport . He knew representing Astriedan wouldn't be an easy task but the Emperor trusted him and Julian trusted the Emepror's judgment. As the plane was finishing it's final approach, Julian turned away from the window, looking at the few people that would be following him during his visit in Iverica.  Aside from his secretary and an imperial speaker in his usual black robe, there were two imperial servants that were personnaly dispatched by the emperor to serve as his bodyguards. Julian would have preferred to bring his own bodyguards as servants weren't really known for their politeness and discretion but it was too late to express such concerns.

About 15 minutes later, he finally stepped out of the plane, wearing his most beautiful (and expensive) ceremonial dress, closely followed by his suite. As soon as him and his suite entered the terminal they could feel that every of their moves were observed by cameras, journalists and foreign officials. They all advanced to the center of the terminal. After saluting Foreign Minister Desdemona Tomas-Morra, Julian graciously accepted the ATARA pin then went on saluting other diplomats and officials before moving to the next part of the day's program.

Edited by Astriedan
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After a close vote at the National Assembly for the nomination of Anne-Marie Montcarles as she was to receive the title of “Madame l'Ambassadrice de Fleur de Lys de l’ARATA”, had some complications in her way as she naturally was part of the Parti Républicain, and as the National Assembly was owned by the Party Société Ouverte… As you may imagine this caused few troubles, however, it was well known that having been in power for the longest time, the Parti Républicain members were the most experienced and as they still controlled the Senate, made the diplomatic matters mostly under their control, ensuring through political games the nomination of Anne-Marie Montcarles.

The protocol when coming to the plane usage was rather strict in the Lysian code, if something was to not be miss, it would be it. 2 Concorde were operated in the Governmental Air Fleet, but those were reserved for the Président du Conseil and the Président, making the newly appointed diplomat to that organisation travelling in the Breguet Aviation’s plane, the Magne, which was a small technological pearl. As effectively, travels outside of the Republic were minuted and organised with care, in order to naturally promote as much possible the national industries, with Aerospace heading first. The distance between @Iverica and Fleur de Lys would show the capacity of such plane, in addition to its new motorisation on how it was economising 4% carburant from its previous version, along with a quieter sound for the motorisation while ensuring maximum stability during the flight, just typical Lysian care for their planes. Anne-Marie had already a background, thanks to her long-standing career which allowed her to meet various representatives throughout the decades, and make connexions, hopefully, some old branches will be attending too to the meeting she thought. She was clever, this post as Ambassador to such organisation was also a way for her to finish with dignity her political and diplomatic career, after having served as Minister for Foreign and Commercial Affairs during 7 years -which is a lot, considering the Council and the office of Président du Conseil may be overthrown by the National Assembly- in addition to her 5 years as Deputy and in charge of the Diplomatic Commission.

This Lady for sure had experience, but she was starting to get older and discourage by her task, seeing this more as a dignified slow sortie… But who knows what might happen? It is with that in mind that we left her aircraft, with her attaché-caisse and naturally personal secretary and body-guard, moving towards the welcoming committee which she clearly saw at one point, as with her vision slowly degrading she remarked clearly much later than needed, making her hesitate during two of her steps as she was walking, but commented to herself, “Let’s do this” with a rather cute tone by her seriousness.

Edited by Fleur de Lys
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OOC Note: Seeing as I need to update the Variot dictionary that I keep, the language could have some mistakes.

 

''Tuhs, warom geh ji mee?''
''Het Kantor fan Buitenlant Tieplomatiek wil ji ehn personlik assiestent geef'n.''
''Warom ji?''
''Ek tenk Minister Lopentlant wil ji ehn goe geef'n.''
''Sieh ek ruis als ehn koe? Ek geh nie loei'n of gras eet'n. Ji sijn ehn personlik assiestent fan het Kantor als ek Dina Diva sijn. Ek heb toch ook Lolly, nie lullen.''
''Oke, oke. Sjoer nie so nar mi. Mis'gien sijn ik aftoe ehn offieshele aggent. Aftoe.''
''Ehn fan het apparath?''
''Aftoe. Ek sech nieks.''
''Ji heb ehn kostuumpak notig. Het is ehn tieplomatiek eets, nie ehn... Wat ji wil.''
''Heb ek. Sijn so s'ruk.''

As the younger man moved around in the business jet that had been made available to Lantheere Sjaak fan Oliefaaier, all Sjaak could do was sigh. Sure, it was normal for the Ministry of Diplomatic Affairs to send along agents of the Variotan secret service, 'lovingly' called 'het apparath' [the machine], to high-priority diplomatic meetings. But Sjaak had expected Reemy [Lopentlant, Minister of Diplomatic Affairs] not to be so obvious about it, sending a 'personal assistant' while everyone that knew the Lantheere knew that he had only one genuine manservant that he trusted enough to bring along to such events, the midget Lodewijk. Lodewijk was often called Lowie although Sjaak was insistent on calling him Lolly, a reminder of the first time when they had met and the Lantheere had caught him trying to steal a lolly from a candy store within the Oliefaaier Kommune. As this had happened over thirty years ago, it was all ancient history but had led to Lodewijk becoming the impromptu confidant, and as some claimed a surrogate son, of Sjaak over the years. Indeed, whenever the Oliefaaiers came together to celebrate something, it was normal to see Lodewijk in the middle of the bunch, joking around with the rest. While Lodewijk had looked up when the Lantheere had called out his name, he quickly went back to sleep and could be heard snoring quite loudly though the jet. Seeing as the meeting was relatively early and the travel time to Iverica was several hours, this was to be expected.


''Die is het piloot. Wi's gah'n lant'n.''

With a simple and short message, the pilot let the three know that they were going to land. Even if he wouldn't have done so, they would have surely noticed as the jet took a sharp turn before beginning it's descent. Lodewijk, who had been happily snoring away until this time, rolled out of his seat and woke up startled. 

''Wiewa...''
''Wi sijn er. Kleet ji aan.''
''Ah! Ja, naturlik Sjaak.''

The midget, who had just as easily switched to pajamas's in the jet to help with sleeping comfortably, was quick to get his suit and put it on. While he was normally fine wearing regular clothing, the Lantheere had ensured that Lodewijk had a proper suit to wear. While the chance was slim that there would be any attention focused on his manservant, it never hurt to have one dressed in a representational fashion. Due to his small size, it was made additionally easy to change as he didn't tower over the chairs but instead was able to hide behind them. The agent that has to accompany them hadn't had the same luck however, as he had found it near impossible to change without showing flesh, leading to the Lantheere making the comment that 'the Oliefaaier Kommune makes pills to enlarge that'. Whether or not the agent liked the comment didn't matter, as the Oliefaaier Kommune indeed contained herbal supplement businesses that manufactured and sold pills to enlarge anything from one's biceps and genitals to their appetite and hair.

With the landing happening quietly and quickly, nothing happened that was really out of the ordinary. Doors were opened and the three left the plane. Lodewijk was first, checking the surroundings for anything strange. When he didn't see anything, he nodded to the Lantheere that he could leave the plane safely. While Sjaak required some help from the agent accompanying him to get his polar bear-chinchilla mix fur coat safely out of the jet, this was done relatively quick and without problems.

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Lantheere fan Oliefaaier showing off a proper Variotan greeting with fellow ex-FHfFfF candidate Dr. fan Boerlant-Varra

Giving Desdemona the proper Variotan greeting of a warm handshake-turned-hug and air kisses, Sjaak pinned the ATARA pin unto his suit and walked into the lounge. Upon sight of the Astriedan imperial servants, Sjaak was quick to call his bodyguard to him.

''Heb ji ehn SAP94 en kann ji het Koolman-prootkol?''
''Ja en nee...''
''Johan Koolman, ehn fan het apparath fan het Unie fan Kommunes. Twoh in het klooten of kont. Teeshe ferkleetaffishinatos heb'n het notig mog't notig sijn.''
''Ek begrip't, Lantheere.''


Clothing:

Lantheere Sjaak fan Oliefaaier:

  • Classic black suit with a white dress shirt and a Variotan flag tie and matching Variotan flag pocket square. 18-carat gold cuffs with the 'fan Oliefaaier' coat of arms on them.
  • Long fur coat with the outside being polar bear and the inside, for warmth and comfort, being lined and covered in chinchilla fur. Mostly ends at his knees, although the backside continues on as/featuring the bear's head and nearly hits the ground. Was a gift from Dina Diva, one of a kind.
  • Shoes made from prime-quality leather and snakeskin. Laces in the colors black and blue, the colors of the fan Oliefaaier Kommune.
  • Hardwood walking cane with a carved ivory head resembling his own head with sapphires matching his eye color as the eyes. If one twists it, the cane reveals it's second use as a chromed pick, for close range self-defense. Gift from his daughter, again one of a kind. Can also be used as a skewer or ice pick if needed. He doesn't need it for walking, it's a pure status symbol.
  • Two 18-carat rings, one jeweled wedding ring and the other being a signet ring with the fan Oliefaaier coat of arms.

Translation of the conversations:

''So, why are you coming along?''
''The Office of Foreign Affairs wants to give you a personal assistant.''
''Why you [though]?''
''I guess Minister Lopentlant wanted to give you a good one.''
''Do I look like a cow? I'm not going to moo or eat grass. If you're an assistant of the Office, I'm Dina Diva. I also have Lolly, cut the bullsh*t.''
''Okay, okay. Don't look at me like that. Maybe I might be an official agent. Maybe.''
''One of the secret service?''
''Maybe. I'm not telling.''
''You need a suit. It's a diplomatic thing, not a... Whatever you want.''
''Got one. Be right back.''

''Whowha...''
''We're here, get dressed.''
''Ah! Yes, of course Sjaak.''

''Do you have a SAP94 [pistol, a Varinco product. Varinco - The Proper Choice] and do you know the Koolman-protocol?''
''Yes and no...''
''Johan Koolman, one of the machine from the Unie fan Kommunes. Two in the nuts or ass. These cosplay enthusiasts will need it, if it comes to that.''
''I understand, Lantheere.''

Edited by Variota
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Altaria Airport, Arrivals, Iverica - 08:00

Theresa Tumbleweed excelled at the art of multitasking. Whilst she went down the stairs from the government machine the SSI recently purchased from the Lysian republic she looked at her smartphone and studied the reports of the flight systems. Fully autonomous airplanes had not been legalised in the SSi yet, however the systems were already installed. A human pilot still had to check whether the systems were running nominally to ensure the safety of the passengers. However, as Theresa learned, the pilot did not have to lift a finger during the whole flight. She was content with these results, fully autonomous flights were certainly within reach of SSI airlines.

Angelina Lernel was walking behind her. The two women treated eachother with mutual respect, however, they didn't like eachother on a personal level. It was an open secret that Mrs. Lernels diplomatical skills were not the only reason she was chosen for this post. Theresa Tumbleweed was pleased to have a potential political enemy being dispatched to a post faraway from the Sunset Sea Islands. Lernel was perfect for the job, supporting the diplomatic relations with their international allies, whilst Theresa Tumbleweed could continue on the internal restructuring of her nation. 

The plain arrived perfectly on time, The two women entered the terminal on eight in the morning sharp. Theresa Tumbleweed was slightly obsessed with punctuality and accuracy. She was greeted by the Iverican staff and was pleased with the sight of the ATARA mamber flags hanging in the airport. ATARA would become a shining symbol of the human civilisation, international cooperation and friendship.

Even though the political views of the two women diverged slightly, both of them anticipated the diplomatic achievements ATARA would bring upon the international community. Both knew, that this day would be a milestone of the modern history that would go down into the chronicles of the modern age.

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0915h IST | December 12, 2017
Altaria International Airport- Terminal 1, Arrivals
Porto Altaria, Iverica

 

Instead of doing his homework on the Aamotech Slankstråle that flew him from Prymont to Iverica, Julian Nordeng instead chose to indulge in a few relaxing glasses of whiskey with his assistant Lionel Stenberg. The two had been working together since Nordeng's appointment to the position of Rock Island Delegate, and had developed a friendly personal relationship. They often spent nights at one another's homes drinking spirits and discussing options on the latest KAP models, and the flight to the Altaria International Airport wasn't much different. There would be half an hour of travelling at 1000hrs anyway, which was more than enough time for a quick scan of the briefing documents.

Nordeng had become slightly sloppy since the turn of the decade, allowing himself to relax once he'd reached a cushy government job. He still excelled in what he did, there was no doubt about that, but here and there, he made mistakes that he didn't punish himself for. He was in his forties now and could attribute little errors to getting old, a joke he enjoyed with his office staff. There'd been no formal discussion about it yet anyway, so for now, Julian was off the hook. It was because of this that when the Slankstråle touched down, Julian was not immediately ready to depart. He took his time gathering his belongings, a couple of lower assistants gathering his suitcases and taking them away to be sent to the hotel. The final few drops of whiskey went down the hatch and away he went, plodding down the stairs with Stenberg in hot pursuit.

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Stenberg and Nordeng, partners in crime.

The reception was nice, and made Nordeng feel important. He liked feeling like a celebrity, and took the time to chat to some of the reporters, simply giving his face some airtime in Iverica and enjoying his moment in the limelight. The row of flags were appreciated, particularly the Prymontian flag - Nordeng was quite the patriot, and had faith in his country. He was here on behalf of President Duval, in the best interests of the United States, and vowed to do his job well - well, as well as he could. If that meant a few more whiskeys to soothe his nerves and get the words flowing, then so be it. 

Once he reached the end of the runway he was greeted by the marvellous Desdemona Tomas-Morra, offering her a peck on the cheek and introducing himself to her entourage. The shy Stenberg hung back, joining Nordeng in the VIP lounge for some refreshments once he was done flattering the Ivericans. With some friendly introductions to the other delegates in the bag, Nordeng and Stenberg headed to their private KAP K6, which would whisk them away to conference centre.

DRBNMUkXUAI7lGL.jpg:large
A KAP K6 in Argic Blue, selected personally by CEO Erik Bruun for Nordeng.

 

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Posted (edited)

OOC:

@Andalla You guys could talk during one of the open or social sessions given in the itinerary above. The opportunity will come in due course

Anyway, I'm announcing that this RP will officially move on to the next stage by Thursday, January 11.

Users who haven't done their arrival RP by this date can simply post-date (retrospective) RP their arrivals.

This is a big RP, so it's natural that these things can be delayed by IRL events. We understand completely. There's no big deal about post-dating RPs

Also, an OOC thread has been created: 

 

Edited by Iverica
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OOC: I'm 2 days behind, but it seems this RP needs to push forward if anything is going to happen. @Cristina, @Lusotropia, you guys may just RP your arrivals later (we'll all just nod and accept that you were there all along ;) ). Failing that, you may interject at any moment and we'll just assume that you arrived quietly without much ado.

---

 

1030-1101 IST

 

When Foreign Minister and ATARA Delegate Desdemona Tomas-Morra entered the lounge shortly after the arrival of the last delegate, it was to announce that they would quickly be moving to Hotel Tricontinentalé--now dubbed the ATARA Interim HQ.

Each delegate, starting with the earliest arrival (Gary Truman of @Girkmand) would board specially prepared KAP K6s (shock-hardened with ballistic glass) and be escorted by teams of Guardia Civil motorised units. The motorcades would follow the road merging with Altaria's A01 Highway, built both for expediency and to take new arrivals through some of the more scenic city sites. Starting from the orange and almond orchards around Altaria airport, the view gradually dipped as they approached one of the island's many limestone terraces. From that vantage, visitors could enjoy a view of Manoralo--one of the oldest towns on the island and parent settlement to the city itself. As the landscape became gradually more urban, leaving craggy limestone and rolling hills for brick houses and quaint, colourful apartments beside the Sant Petros River. Following one's gaze up current would reveal the sight of Porto Altaria's most famous landmark, The Kruggenheim Museum, its argent panelling glinting in the high morning sun like the silver scales of a flipping river pike.

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Manoralo

The city's interior was in strike contrast to the vibrant palette and rural charm of the island's peripheral orchards and plantations. As the city proper was entered, the rustic warmth of sunny orange and yellow gave way to the cool glassy tint of the Altaria Commercial District. The blues, whites, and greys from highrise apartment and office skyscraper alike blended with the rows of well-manicured trees and grassy parks which dotted the city like oases in a land of austere concrete and sleek glass architecture.

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The Kruggenheim

The convoys had no problem moving through what would usually be late-morning traffic. Special routes had been cleared beforehand by the Altaria Constabulary and Guardia Civil--who had officers at nearly every corner, vigilantly watching through tinted sunglasses and the tacit power of law that radiated from their sharp midnight-blue uniforms.

Before the clock struck eleven, the convoys had entered the Plasa Tridente, named for the fountain and sculpture situated at the centre, depicting a certain Trident-bearing god from old myth. Taking up a quarter of the Plasa's space, and filling most of the delegate's views, was a white palacio built in the late Renaissance Imperialesque-Revival style--The Hotel Tricontinentalé.

5krgw4bm.jpg

Of course, Ms Tomas-Morra and her staff had been incredibly lucky to secure the building for the following year, catching the contract at the timely pulling-out of the previous hotel owners. Once ATARA's permanent HQ was established, the State would resell the property at a projected comfortable profit (at the worst case, breaking even) owing to the predicting of a tourist influx likely to hit the island soon.

Tomas-Morra had been last to leave of course, being a sensible host. The K6 drivers had been ordered to disembark their VIP passengers in order of arrival, and with a short pause between. The administration wanted to make sure each delegate had sufficient face-time with the media, who had already been gathering alongside the velvet rope that flanked the entrance's long red carpet.

Once everyone had gathered inside and been seated in the ballroom, away from the outside noise and camera flash, a short luncheon would commence, followed by the signing of ATARA Charter.


 

1129-1159 IST

 

The delegates had been seated with care. A semi-circular table had been selected and placed squarely at the centre of the ballroom, under a particular fresco depicting "Mediargic Shipping and Merchants in the Morning Calm"  by Variotan artist Willem Welde II.

At the head of the room, furthest from the entrance was a short dais with a podium standing just below it on the left-hand flank. Around the central tables were smaller round tables for ATARA staff and contributors--donors, legal advisors, selected press, and others who had provided notable expertise or assistance.

In counter-clockwise order and starting from the left-hand side, delegates were seated at the central table as follows: @Ahrana , @Andalla , @Girkmand , @Variota , @Prymont , Iverica, @Lusotropia @Sunset Sea Islands, @Cristina , @Fleur de Lys , @Astriedan . Of course, the arrangement had been chosen to provoke the least amount of heated debate or any happenstance of icy grudge that might be dredged up for whatever reason. Tomas-Morra hoped that the order would promote as much friendly chatter as possible during the luncheon.

"Ladies, Gentlemen...", spoke Ms Tomas-Morra as she took her place at the podium.

"It does occur to me that we as hosts have deprived you of a fine and proper meal for long enough", she took the chance to let the statement's friendlier, more humorous tone to prevail.

"However, I am reminded that we have not yet offered you a proper welcome. So in keeping with the order of things and in the spirit of good hostship, allow me to formally welcome such a fine and promising gathering of accomplished individuals. Shall we together have our first round of applause?"

After the staccato clapping died down, another host took Ms Tomas-Morra's place at the podium, the Minister herself moving to join the seated party.

At the host's announcement, a line of waiters emerged from the side doors of the ballroom, carrying an assortment of Iverican and continental dishes.

The courses came in options and assortments, the waiters allowing the delegates to point from a selection on the tray. Aperitifs (Amontillado), Bruschetta, Sashimi, and Antipasto were served first. Next was a light salad, fish, and chicken course with a following selection of herbed lamb, veal, or tofu in truffle reduction acting as the main course. Foreign (Mostly Lysian and Cristinese) vintage and Local Reds were offered (in moderation) at the turn of the courses. Finally, a light dessert of soufflé and assorted Iverican and Thalassan fruit was brought out to top the meal.

The organisers had kept the lunch portions deliberately in conservative sizes, but on-hand in case there were any ravenous appetites out there. Tomas-Morra had given express instructions that the lunch was not to overstuff the delegates to the point of lethargy.


1300 IST

After a short break allowing conversations to end and napkins to be thrown on the table, the host announced that the event would continue in the more appropriate conference hall, allowing the delegates a slow walk through the sunny hotel galleries.

The conference room was smaller than the grand ballroom but equally decorated with white and white-gold patterned wallpaper, Adler wood trimmings, and Walnut flooring. But in contrast, the conference room had a small stage, long table--on which were nameplates and individual microphones--making for a more officious and business-like air.

When all were seated (roughly at the same arrangement as before), functionaries laid out leather binders, each of which held a copy of the ATARA Charter for the delegate's personal keeping. Fountain pens, each one personalised with a name, national flag, and Atara crest were similarly given.

"Honoured delegates", began Desdemona Tomas-Morra, taking a stand on the stage.

"This has been a long time coming. Months of work and preparation have put the representatives of great nations here today, about to embark on a new era of understanding and economic cooperation. With this signing, we forge a platform which shall endeavour to bring advancement and prosperity through advancing mutual goals rather than promoting airs of guarded suspicion and unhealthy competition", the Minister paused and nodded to a functionary in the back.

"Without further ado, allow me to present the gathered delegates with our founding document, the ATARA Charter."

A functionary wheeled a wood and velvet board onto the stage floor, a series of parchment pages fastened to it.

"Now, as we call on our honoured Member State Delegates to come on stage and begin the signing..."

---

OOC: 1. The player may choose to RP any part of this portion in his/her own perspective (at discretion). 2. The Order of signing goes in alphabetic order this way: Members States first (Astriedan, Eurofuhrer [in absentia], Lusotropia, Sunset Sea Islands), followed by Observers (Ahrana [Kingdom of], Cristina, Fleur de Lys), and lastly by Founders (Andalla, Girkmand, Iverica, Prymont, Variota). 3. If the player wishes, the player may just skip to signing.

OOC: For any questions please post on ATARA FOUNDING OOC 

Edited by Iverica
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Edited by Iverica
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1030-1101 IST

After getting to meet other delegates, it was time for Julian and the people that followed him to proceed to the motorcade.

The K6 was a really comfortable car, or at least it would have been if the imperial servants weren't there. Although they didn't complained (they never did anyway), it was obvious that they were struggling with their long and heavy "spikes" and bulky helmets. That didn't left much place for the others, Julian included but they had to deal with it.

Julian wasn't really interested about the countryside of Iverica but when the K6 entered the city, he started to look around with more attention. As Astriedan was a very urbanised island, he clearly felt more like at home when skyscrappers replaced houses. He was enjoying the modern part of the city as it reminded him of Dernione, especially The Kruggenheim with all it's curves.

During the trip, he, his secretary adn the speaker talked a lot, about the strange culture that they had stepped in, but also about the fact that the servants (that were, as usual, not saying a word, or even moving) were standing out a lot more than they expected.

 

1129-1159 IST

After (finally) getting out of the car, and having passed the usual jounalist crowd, Julian and the other delegates were invited to seat at a table to eat.

After a few words, there was a round of applauses. Then, they started to eat. It seemed to Julian that he was in a completely different universe, where food was well presented and where alcohol was considered a luxury good,

He blended in anyway, doing like every other delegates was doing while the people that accompanied him where either seated at another table or, in the case of the servants, standing at a good distance behind him, watching every move in the room.

 

1300 IST

After a good meal, Julian and delegates moved to a conference room with a more serious and "official" look to it than the ballroom. A group of what Julian guessed was the local equivalent of lackeys gave them a copy of the ATARA charter and a fountain pen personalized to the colors of Astriedan, a nice touch indeed.

Seeing that he would be the first to sign stressed him a bit as he still wasn't used to the international etiquette. However, he managed to look quite formal when walking to the podium, signing the chart and walking back to seat again in his chair, waiting for the other delegates to sign.

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    • Kedrovy | 0555hrs
      21st January 2018
      6 miles east of Salonica
      The Hellenic Rus   "Yes Colonel, the intel provided from the @Iverica SO/AR units match up with our own aerial reconnaissance imagery. Highway E2 into Salonica is clear for penetration." "And the rest of the city?" "Right now, that's unclear. We're awaiting on the Ivericans to rendezvous with us for further information before proceeding with planning. The only thing we're certain on is the east entrance." "So we wait for them. How long until they arrive?" "Last we heard, they were fifteen minutes away. They're travelling by land, so I believe they're taking their time to avoid any IEDs." "Good. Get the camp ready for them." Colonel Nilsen sent the soldier on his way, quickly returning to the papers on his desk. The brigade had made good progress since arriving at Port Sarov, and had spread aid and safety across several major towns along the way. With funding from the government, the people of The Hellenic Rus were now regularly receiving food and medicine. Construction workers had been drafted in to rebuild homes and community centres to reinstate structure and normality, and even nurses and doctors from the United States had been flown over to staff the hospitals. Generally, their Canamo neighbours were welcoming and receptive, and were eager to integrate into the Prymontian way.  The only issue was Pokrovsk. That had been a complete disaster, but the less said about that the better. The men involved had been disciplined accordingly, but there was no way of telling whether the locals would eventually warm up to the Prymontians after what had happened. At best, it'd be a town with strained relations to the capital. At worst, they'd rise against their assailants and cause more trouble than they were worth. Propaganda would only do so much. Their memories weren't short. Once arriving at Kedrovy, the last stop before Salonica, the remainder of the supplies had been spent establishing a sizeable camp. This would be used as the HQ for the Salonica takeover, and would be where Elite Prymontian Defence Force soldiers would be landing in a couple of days time. Resistance was to be expected in Salonica, despite the best efforts of the Ivericans, and the standard Ground Forces could only do so much. Such a huge undertaking would require the big guns. Camp Kedrovy had been established on the outskirts of the town. It was surrounded by a simple wire fence, with barbed wire here and there - they'd quickly realised when arming the fort that they were comically short on defence measures, and had to make do. As such, tanks and cannons were set up around the perimeter, warding off any terrorists and brave citizens. To any regular, educated person, it'd be obvious how desperately underfunded the USPGF were, but thankfully the terrorists who thought sending suicide bombers around the country and subsequently losing members was a good idea were short on brain cells. But, they did have guns and fingers to pull the triggers, and so a defence had to be made. Air units were slowly moving in from Port Sarov. Their time in the land of napalm, terrorism and general discourse had been easy and slow, but now they were actually required for assistance. A nearby abandoned aerodrome had been secured by Sarov Resistance militia and was being utilised to store the planes until they were needed. For now, they lay in waiting, fuel tanks full and armed to the teeth, ready to unleash all hell on an already slaughtered city.    Captain Moore approached the barrier at the checkpoint, raising his binoculars and peering towards the horizon in search of their inbound western friends. His blue, numbed hands shook violently, the air icy and thin from the constant snowfall which had subsided in the past few hours. He cursed whoever thought it was a good idea to invade in the middle of the worst bloody winter in years. Lowering the binoculars, he joined a guard in the metal shelter of the checkpoint, taking shelter from the biting wind. The guard was armed with a semi-automatic rifle and a radio, which probably didn't work due to the weather. He'd spent his time twiddling his thumbs and smoking cigarettes, occasionally looking up for visitors.  "There are some guys due soon, about ten minutes or so. They're SO/AR. Check their ID and let them in." "What are they for?" "They're bringing cheese sandwiches and orange juice." "Really? SO/AR are bringing that?" "Ask stupid questions, get stupid answers. They're helping us with Salonica." "We're actually going ahead with that?" "Yeah, why wouldn't we?" Moore regarded the man with confusion, wondering why there was such scepticism. Salonica had always been part of the plan. "Dunno, there was talk of the Defence Minister calling it off because of some... I don't know, someone mentioned some sh*t going down and it might reach Duval." "No. Everything has been fine. It'll be a piece of cake." His words oozed confidence, but deep within, Moore knew that they were f*cked.
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And that would be rather beneath the dignity of any of the important figures present at the meeting. The room was dominated by a large oak table, probably older than many nations in Europa. However, that didn't stop it from being updated. At regular intervals along its surface, flat screens had been built into its surface adjacent to each seat. This was so that the occupants of the room could scroll through documents as necessary to what was being discussed. The floor was, again, decorated with a mosaic design, this time being geometric rather than illustrative. The walls were covered in wooden panelling, a design fad dating from the 18th Century – or 73nd Century by Tagmatine reckoning. When renovations were made, they often stayed. Other than that, the room was almost spartan in comparison to many of the richly, and somewhat gaudily, decorated rooms in the rest of the palace. It almost made the room suited to clandestine and secretive meetings, although that was not really the nature of what was taking place there.   The wood panelling did give the room a slightly claustrophobic air, in the opinion of the Megas Logothetes for War, Honorios Kontarian. It definitely was one of his least favourite meeting rooms. He much preferred the ones on the upper floors, or at least with bigger windows. They let much more light in. He had no idea why the Holy Emperor would have chosen this one. But, Honorios supposed, it was pretty much like all of the others.   He shuffled his bum on his seat and reached for the glass of water in front of him, draining the last of it and replacing it back on the table.   “Ultimately, @Adaptus once again becoming stable has made the handling of future events significantly easier,” he said. Other heads at the table nodded, especially the Megas Logothetai for Foreign Affairs and Internal Affairs. “It likely means that the only true local threat that we might face would be from the Great Queendom of @Suverina. And even then, they have been quiet of late.”   Whilst Kontarian personally had some old suspicions about Tonaras of Internal Affairs, he knew that Goulielmos of Foreign Affairs was sincere. All three of them, alongside the Tagmatine Intelligence Network and Epistrategiai, the General Staff, had worked hard on various plans for the stabilisation of the Greater Holy Empire's western neighbour as it went through the period known within the Federal Kingdom as the “Great Lull”. As Adaptus became increasingly chaotic, it began to seem that direct intervention in the country would be within the best interests of Tagmatium, if only to stop the disruption to the economy of the western portion of Tagmatium's territories.   Whether the grand invasion of Operation Flavios or the smaller schemes of Operations Georgios and Mikhael, the projected outcomes were not good. The former would have had vast resources thrown into it, including large scale amphibious landings, paradrops and massed advances by land-based forces. The latter were more concentrated, aiming to penetrate and seize regional capitals with seaborne landings or the national capital with an airborne operation respectively, both coupled with large scale ground operations. However, no matter which of the options selected, the projected outcomes had varyingly been to ignite strengthening resistance against Tagmatine operations and then a tumble into all-out war between the nations or to precipitate a genuine civil war, into which Tagmatium was dragged.   So the Greater Holy Empire had been content to watch as Adaptus managed to settle itself onto a much more steady course, even with a couple of stumbles. But the untimely and somewhat suspicious death of King Jovian and the election of King Magnus caused consternation in Tagmatium. As the border war that Magnus had almost entirely caused himself began to intensify, a decision was made to try to stabilise the Occident and bring down the king-turned-military dictator. Operation Mikhael was given the green light.   When news reached the Agios Basilikon Vestiarion that Magnus had been deposed, there was perhaps the most genuine panic Kontarian had seen in the Tagmatine capital since the rebels had marched on it during the Civil War. He, in his own words, “shat a brick” when he had been told. The order to cross the Adapton border had already been given and the first units were beginning to advance beyond their start lines within Tagmatium.   'Large scale military exercise undertaken at short notice' was probably one of the pleasant euphemisms for what could have been the biggest clusterf*ck in Tagmatine history. The sudden order to halt had caused the largest number of related fender benders in the history of humanity as several army groups were brought to a sharp halt just short of the border.   “It does mean attention can be turned to our most pressing concern,” Kontarian continued. He tapped the touch screen in front of him and brought up a picture of the northern part of the Occident, focussing on both Beautancus and Machina Haruspex, an image that was mirrored on every screen in the room. It was likely redundant. Everyone within the room already knew what the concern Kontarian was talking about. “We have not heard from our ally for some time now. We – that is, the Logothesion of War and the Epistrategiai, have been hesitant in carrying out active reconnaissance towards our ally, just in case we provoked something in return. However, both intelligence within the Logothesion, the military and the Tagmatine Intelligence Network have detected nothing from the Haru government in some time through passive means.”   Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Andronikos Keftedes nodding along. Kontarian didn't like the pale spymaster all that much but this had been causing the pair of them not a little lost sleep. Precisely what was going on to Tagmatium's north and east needed to be investigated. Rumour did have it that the semi-civilised hill tribes had been crossing the border more and more regularly. That they were able to cross back at all was something of a surprise. Not like the Haru at all.   “Essentially, Imperial Sovereign, we need to undertake active recce towards the Haru, if they are still there,” said Kontarian, addressing Kommodos directly. Again, the spymaster nodded, as if his agreement somehow added more weight to the Megas Logothetes' words. Kontarian felt himself somewhat irked by it. “We will likely start off with high altitude overflights and then move from there. Small-scale foot recce is something that we have considered, but we will need to see if the Haru react to this. Our relationship had significantly improved because of the Karthay Incident, so we could get away with foot recce without anything untoward happening but I think that we should play it safe.”   The Holy Emperor had sat with his elbows on the table with his fingers steepled together, leaning slightly forward in his chair. Like everyone else in the room, his eyes had been flicking from the images on the flat screen in front of him, which had been showing images pertinent to what Kontarian was saying, and to the speaker himself. Once the man had finished speaking, the Holy Emperor sat up straighter in his chair.   “Megas Logothetes Kontarian, that will be a sensible path to take,” said Kommodos. “Have that actioned as soon as possible. The quicker we get to the bottom of that, the better.”   “Thank you, your majesty,” Kontarian gave a nod of acknowledgement. Merely calling the Holy Emperor 'your majesty' might have struck some as too informal for the Agios Basileos kai Autokrator Arhomanion, but Kommodos allowed his more trusted advisers more leeway.   “Is there anything else that needs to be discussed at this meeting of the Vestiarion?” asked the Holy Emperor.   “Imperial Sovereign, two nations in Argis have suffered from Communist revolutions,” Goulielmos spoke. The images on the touch screens split, showing a map of Argis with the nations of @Ahrana and @Astriedan highlighted. “As yet, we don't know whether they are connected in any way. However, the reports from Astriedan are somewhat... confused.”   Goulielmos shrugged, the gesture causing enough movement for his glasses to slide down his nose. He paused for a moment as he re-seated them.   “It appears that it wasn't an actual Communist uprising, but something engineered by their monarch and his son. The former has been deposed and the latter is on the run.”   There was a pause for a moment. It struck Kontarian as quite a strange circumstance. After all, why would a monarch try to use Communists for their own end? It wouldn't likely go well. And, seemingly, it hadn't. Barbaroi were a strange breed.   “And in Ahrana?” asked Kommodos.   “The Communists overthrew their old king and they seem to be making a fairly good go of it,” the Megas Logothetes for Foreign Affairs answered. “Nothing seems to have put any Tagmatine citizens in danger, although I'll admit that I don't know how many are there, if any at all. I'd recommend that we towards normalising relations with them, even if they are Communist.”   “Is there any indication that the Ahranaian Communists had any outside help?” This question from Kommodos wasn't aimed at Goulielmos but they Kephale of the Tagmatine Intelligence Network. However, Kontarian was not the only person at the table who inferred what Kommodos was referring to. A decade before, a terrorist attack had caused widespread destruction in Easteia and the Communist Party of Tagmatium was to blame. Despite outlawing and then crushing the party, the leader had never been caught, even nearly ten years later.   “No, your majesty,” rasped the spymaster, shaking his head. “We have investigated all as closely as we can, but no links have yet to come to light.”   Kommodos gave a curt nod, apparently satisfied with the answer. “Then I see no reason for not recognising the new regime as the legitimate one.”   The Greater Holy Empire was pragmatic, even if the atheistic ideology ran counter to everything that it stood for.   “One more thing, your majesty,” interjected Goulielmos. “It appears that Adaptus has recently butted heads, along with a handful of other nations, with a nation called @Derthalen. The Federated Kingdom went so far as to put a blockade in place against them.”   Kontarian looked down at the map now showing on the screen. It focused on this new nation and displayed the area it had occupied, as well as a smaller inset map showing Adaptus. A few boxes also mentioned the nations that had protested the expansion. It noted that Derthalen was both expansionist and isolationist – a bit of a strange combination and one that hardly boded well.   “It is perhaps worth discussing the situation with Adaptus and the other nations involved, Megas Logothetes,” replied the Holy Emperor after a moment's consideration. “It is time that we contacted the Adapton government. I shall adjourn this meeting here and we will examine our response later.”   The Holy Emperor stood and the rest of the room got to their feet at the same time. They bowed to their sovereign, who returned the gesture.   “Good morning, Endoxotatoi.”   One of the Holy Emperor's personal bodyguards stepped forward and moved the chair back for him. There were eight of them, four from the Maghlabitai, who were akin to the ancient Lictores of Arome and four from the Basilikon Anthropoi. The former were dressed in red robes and golden armour and carried maces in the manner of the fasces, whilst the latter wore pure white robes and golden armour. Along with them was the Mystikos, Nikephoros Boionnanes, the Holy Emperor's private secretary. They formed up in a group around the Holy Emperor and swept out of the room.   Bending forward to gather up his papers from the table in front of him, Kontarian resisted the urge to shake his head. Even after working closely with the man over over a decade, he wasn't sure whether the use of the title of' “Endoxotatoi” was ironic or sincere. It was a title due to the members of the Basilikon Vestiarion and it meant “most glorious”. However, it was a senatorial title and Kommodos had not called that organisation together for years. Despite being democratically elected, the Tagmatine leader showed no love for democracy.
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