Variota

The Torrid Tales of 'Mother', Variot Master Spy Every organisation has someone standing at the top. That's how the wurld simply works, in the end, there has to be someone responsible, someone that knows everything. Even Het Apparath, the Variot secret service, had to follow this natural law. Other organisations had the Kingfisher, Tony Two-Thumbs, Rita the Rambler... Het Apparath had Mother. For all but the most trusted Het Apparath agents, Mother was a tale, a secret. Something they had heard of, had to sign off to, the person that signed their checks at the end of the week or month but never met. Some of the old-timers shared their stories among the recruits. Mother had been trained in the Alharun deserts, murdering enough warlords to fill a photo album using nothing more than her well-trained thighs and a switchblade hidden in her prison pocket. No, said One-Legged Johan. Mother was obviously the person behind the Week of the Period Ships, a name given in extremely bad taste by a tabloid for a multitude of human smuggling ships that were found in the Keelpijp. Some journalist had decided to be funny and call them the Period Ships, as their decks all ended up covered in blood from dead smugglers while their trafficking victims heard or knew nothing and were 'birthed' or freed from the holds. No, said Century Old Cees, the oldest active Het Apparath agent still alive. He himself had trained Mother in chemistry when she was young, a vixen from the farmlands that had escaped a quasi-cultist, quasi-incestuous situation and now sought to clear Variota from its many impurities. Of course, Cees had breathed in so many fumes throughout the years that many felt that he resembled more of an elderly, crazed wizard than someone that would be able to clearly remember even his breakfast. Whatever the truth was, all that knew the tale of Mother knew one thing for certain, Mother was real. She was real and you didn't want to cross her. For no one that crossed her could tell the tale in a coherent tale. Mother knew mercy, certainly, but it was a cruel mercy. There was always the need to leave someone alive, someone to tell her tale, someone to spread the legend. That didn't mean that that someone had to be alright. They'd end up with their tongues cut out and a letter on them or their minds broken from experimental hallucinogenic drugs dealt to them in barely-below lethal levels, emasculated in ways that would make medieval torturers orgasm in their pants from the idea alone. She came in unseen and left unseen. A ghost. Presumably, a ghost that spent most of her time as a mid-level employee of a thirteen-in-a-dozen mid-range company and baked cookies for the neighborhood kids during the weekends. A mother that handled her kitchen knife just a bit too good. Mother herself had developed over the years, mellowed out. During her time as a regular agent, the boss had been Father. All Het Apparath leaders had been named Mother or Father and the name was randomly assigned. There had been male Mothers, female Fathers. It was all a part of the subterfuge. Father had been a bear of a woman, living in the woods where she built her own cabin and only received a few trusted couriers. During her training to take over the role, Mother had decided against this form of leadership. A leader that just led their people was a leader that'd get rusty, lose their edge. Mother had made sure that she took on a couple of special assignments from time to time. Get in, brutally murder everyone, get out. She never really intended to brutally murder everyone but most criminals lacked a certain finesse, a certain joie de vivre that'd make them perfect turncoats. And today was the day for yet another one of these special assignments. Through the grapevine, the mother of an aunt of the hairdresser of one of the gang leaders, Het Apparath had heard of a big meeting between various Variotan gangs. For many foreign visitors, Het Huisselant seemed like a nation without any visible crime. Of course, crime still happened. Crime happened anywhere, even or especially in anarchy. Het Huisselant, though, had worked out a simple system to keep the streets clean. Any gang that grew too large got a visit from Het Apparath with a very simple offer, keep things clean on the streets, work for us when we need it and you'll stay alive and might even profit from it. And it was an offer they couldn't refuse, as every other gang was in on it. The smaller gangs, the ones that weren't on the radar, often imploded or ended up seeking a fight with a citizen with Folke Milisie ties. Of course, such a status quo only worked when there weren't upstarts trying to upset it. And that's what Mother would be ensuring. These gangs were trying to merge, form an organisation that would be too large for just Het Apparath to contain. And she'd be damned if she had to work together with redneck yokels like Boofenheufel and the Provincial Police. People without finesse, without grace. The best way to take down aspiring big boys is by cutting off their balls. And if Mother had her choice, that'd be exactly what would be happening. A good old-fashioned Phantom Phallus, as one of Het Apparath's field guides called it. Chopped off balls forced through a slit throat as if the person was giving a nice, sloppy fellatio. A big 'f*ck you' from Het Apparath to any upstarts. Aunt Janine's Diner was a dilapidated little diner sat in a corner of Fingerfaaierplaats, a place where only the regulars would dare to enter and everyone else stayed clear off. The type of place that gave off vibes that it could give you food poisoning by just looking at it. Aunt Janine herself was no better, a woman that could only be described as the human equivalent of grease. The type of person that looked like she could refill her fryers by just scraping off whatever was on her forehead. And yet, according to the tax service, this place was running numbers that would make Cherry Vooters doubt his business strategies. A total front for money laundering but not one that the tax man felt strongly enough to check out. Inside sat a cornucopia of Variota's criminal entrepreneurs. Rooie Roger of the Red Sharks, a gang that specialized in skimming shipments. Natte Wilm, the biggest owner of underground brothels using illegals from Fulgistan, Grenesia and the rest of the wurld. Slappe Pols Peter, the leader of the Reierferplattoterp-branch of the Velvet Mafia. And many more minor figures. Their plans were simple, Rooie Roger would skim shipments of heavy armaments while Natte Wilm's prostitutes would extract information and blackmail key people to ensure that the group would know where to strike. Meanwhile, Peter would use his connections as a Velvet Mafia boss to ensure that the weapons were distributed to the various minor gangs that joined them. Once the time was there, they'd hit Het Apparath hard enough to get them to back off and establish a new status quo. Of course, every plan only gets as far as the moment of execution and regretfully, for the criminals atleast, that moment was sooner than intended. Natte Wilm was down before he even saw Mother. Rooie Roger tried to retreat but ended up locked inside the diner's freezer, dooming himself to a cold wait until death. Slappe Pols Peter, often ridiculed in private by others for his extremely effeminate behavior, was the only one with atleast some success at defending himself. Drawing his Sinterklaas pistol, he actually managed to fire off a few shots before he met his end. Not that it mattered in the end as Mother had her wish. The Red Sharks were worthless, no value was gained from keeping a gang of thieving dockworkers alive. Natte Wilm's brothels would be dismantled, although Mother was sure that atleast half of his employees would just end up in a different place before the month was over. Peter though, Peter deserved something different. Mother liked his guts and the Velvet Mafia had, until then, always been good allies of Het Apparath. After all, all surrounding nations wouldn't have been so kind on an organisation of debauching, homosexual criminals. In a way, the Velvet Mafia was a facet of the Variotan Dream, people living their life in the most hedonistic way possible. And wasn't Het Apparath founded to keep that Variotan Dream alive? To ensure that it stayed as vibrant as possible? Of course it was. And thus, Peter's legacy was allowed to live on. Allowed to grow. Mother's Mercy. A single phone call to a burner phone went out of the Diner before it caught fire. A regrettable fryer accident is what the fire department would call it. ''Cleanup crew for 12. Alert Bureau 33, the only one with balls.''

Dr. Jiwilmi Fantuitlant was an imposing sight, two meters tall and wearing an outfit that contained enough animal print to make wildlife run away in fear of their life. A cigarette almost constantly in her hand or her mouth, lighting one with the other. A drink in the other, either from whatever the Prymontians offered their guests or from her own bedazzled flask. Her parents might have been immigrants to Het Huisselant and relatively conservative at that, she herself had taken up the Variotan culture and lifestyle with a gusto that was rare to see even among Variotans themselves. The other delegates had come dressed plainly, boring suits and dresses filling up the room. And while she was sure that that'd probably fit the places they were from, boring places that would be forgotten in the history books once they'd inevitably fall, she believed in the truth of more is more. No one can see past your arguments when they can't look past you. A great person, a big person has a big personality, dresses big and does big. And she was sent to do big things. And now, in this hotel, she'd finally be able to make her mark and move up within the ministry of Diplomatic Affairs. The Variotan stance was that participating in the Antargic Council wasn't an environmental thing, even if some of others thought that. Who cared about the environment when it came down to it? As if the snobs in O'Polis would go back to live like it was 1699 if it meant saving the world. Of course not. Antargis was about diplomacy and science and science had a cost. Progress had a cost. And if all else failed, progress was needed to ensure that Eurth's population was able to flee to different planets. Would Antargis hold these secrets? Who knows. The biggest concern she had was when she entered the hotel and was told smoking wasn't allowed there. She had heard that such draconian, freedom crushing laws were in place in various nations on Eurth but to see freedom be so abused, contained and crushed in one of Het Huisselant's allies... It was sad, it almost brought a tear to Jiwilmi's eye. A tear that could've normally be prevented by that sweet, sweet feeling of a cigarette between her fingers and lips, that delicious, lung-filling feeling of premium tobacco smoke giving you a level of comfort and peace that the religious people of Eurth would seek their entire lives. A tear she now had barely managed to suck back in through the use of that unnatural demon, nicotine patches. Yuck. The Orionis, Orionians, Orii, Jiwilmi didn't know and didn't really care, did their spiel first, sending a man with a face and expressions that looked like he was constantly being farted right in the face by an obese woman with a diet primarily consisting of beans. It was always sad when cultures that lacked the finer points of diplomacy tried to act as if they were better than they actually were. Anyone with half a mind could see that the entire spiel of delegate Wayanor was nothing more than a thinly-veiled attempt by the Orionerians to toot their own horn sprinkled with a minor serving of 'oh the poor environment' that was barely enough to keep her from throwing down fists. She was really getting f*cking annoyed with the lack of cigarettes. Even palming one didn't help, she needed that sweet juicy joy that sucking in smoke brought. That sound of your lighter, the flame hitting the cigarette. That delicious, delicious scent. She f*cking needed it. Oh great, now the Salvians were to speak. Who even invited them here? Did they sneak in by pretending to be staff? Were they actually staff that was just quickly blessed into a position of 'importance' by their Papi or whatever their leader was called? Cigarette. Now. Even through her, slowly growing, haze of anger towards the injustice she was facing and need for a cigarette, she was able to see that the Salvian broom pushers had atleast one thing right. Zones had to be renegotiated. Het Huisselant did not care about the Marenesian nations, the Salvians would probably just try to push their religion to the penguins or whatever beast lives on Antargis and the Batengdeians would probably just die on the journey to Antargis due to being chronically malnourished from communism. Once the Salvian delegate, whom Jiwilmi was almost certain carried her bags to her room when she checked in at her hotel, was finally done, she stood up. Others might have decided to stay seated but that was not her way. If only because she was on edge enough from the lack of cigarettes, even after having aides stick enough nicotine patches on her arms to murder a family of elephants through nicotine overdose, that her body welcomed any sort of exercise. ''My dear fellow delegates!'' Her voice boomed throughout the chamber the meeting was held in, even with the microphone being relatively far away from her mouth, there was little else one could focus on. ''Let me first thank our great Prymontian friends for hosting this meeting! Suipe, cheers or whatever the various nations represented here use when they toast.'' At that point, she took her drink and took a swig from it, wetting her whistle enough to continue on with her own spiel. ''The delegate of the Salvians speak some truth! As the representative of the venerable Huisselant, I am here to declare that we too, feel that the Antargic zones need to be renegotiated! No longer should they be limited to the veiled Europan imperialists or how they like to call themselves, the EOS. No longer should they be limited to the TCSI. There should be zones made available to the genuinely worthy nations of Eurth, nations such as my own. Nations that lead the wurld with their scientific advances! Nations that are able to make the entire wurld progress! Yes, Antargis needs to be defended! But one can defend it without limiting its usage so much that the scientific value of Antargis is basically null. I and with me, Het Huisselant, am sure that this council will come to the right choice of opening up the usage of Antargis to the proper nations. And once that decision has been made, Het Huisselant will gladly take its place among the treaty nations and among Antargis, protecting its zone with the same verve as we would protect our own territory.'' Sitting back down, she downed the rest of her drink. She really needed a cigarette now even more than before she started. Would she manage to keep her need for a cigarette from getting too far before the end of the meeting?

TRASH Television to start broadcasting worldwide, fans rejoice! Popular Variotan broadcaster TRASH Television has announced that they will attempt a worldwide expansion after repeated demands by fans. TRASH Television, standing for Talk [shows], Reality, Action, Sensual, Hidden [camera] after the shows that they broadcast, is well known as the producer and broadcaster of quality hit shows such as The Real Army Husbands of Het Huisselant, following the debauchery and personal growth of a gaggle of homosexual 'army husbands' from Groenbos. An episode of Prison Patisserie Proving Grounds, a show in which incarcerated individuals battle for ten-thousand Waarttemun and a chance for early parole, went viral due to contestant Hein stabbing one of the judges after his cake got called 'drier than his dead grandma's vagina'. Since then, TRASH Television claims Boogaloo, Whine and Wittier have been exploding with masses of new fans demanding that they broadcast their high quality shows to the rest of the world. The TRASH Television logo TRASH Television's spokesperson had this to say: We're so glad to see so many people yearning for our great programming. Of course, TRASH Television was already available in a lot of nations but this is just an even bigger push for us to move for worldwide expansion. And we think that that's certainly doable in this time and age. A lot of regions are developing more and more and even there, we see that the people want to see our programs, they want to see the gritty real life stories that we provide them. Great programs such as Who's my Daddy?, where each contestant has to find out which of their sexual partners is their father. And we're going to do that. There are lots of talks going around and they're looking positive. Even talks to get a slot or whatever that is called in VARSAT. Of course, we all know satellite television is expensive and we want all our fans to be able to watch our channels so we hope a lot of these talks end up working out. I'd also like all readers to be reminded of the new season of 'Who the f*ck is in my house?', the show where we follow master burglar Geert Grijpgraag as he attempts to break in and steal riches from famous people! The season's starter is great, I can't reveal too much but let's just say that it's very interesting what happened to the celebrity!' Who the f*ck is in my house? airs on TRASH Television every Wednesday, from 16:00 to 17:00 Central Variotan Time.

1 and 4 are obviously digs at Dina Diva 😜

''Pop the bubbly! And let's get a good snort in!'' Corks could be heard being popped in the airplane. When Dina Diva celebrated, she did it right. And for her, life was one big celebration. The jetliner that she traveled in belonged to Vooters Air, one of her favorite ways to travel. Half the plane was filled by her own crew as even this flight was televised live to the world, her fans needed it, craved it. For those living a mundane life, Dina Diva's life was the living equivalent of crack and her 24/7 live show was the dealer that kept refilling their pipe with new rocks. The other half consisted of the Vooters Air staff, barely legal twinks that were barely clothed, and some of her friends. When you were invited by Dina Diva to party in the sky, you didn't say no. And those working were often paid handsomely as Dina Diva was as generous as she was festive. After all, angry and irritated staff didn't make for a fun time nor looked great on camera. Originally, the ministers of Defence and the Armed Forces had been planning on going to the Marenesia Conference. But as Dina Diva hadn't been to Salvia before, she had made it so that she was the one going. She wasn't exactly sure what, if anything, fun was able to be had in Salvia but she had packed enough alcohol and drugs for a fun visit. The agent of Het Apparath that had been made to go along to protect her had told her that drugs were illegal in Salvia, something that had been given a long and hard boo from those partying in the plane. Of course, diplomatic immunity was a great thing and the jetliner was similarly protected. The drugs would stay back but Dina Diva would have her crew carry along enough bottles for her to continue on to have a good time. She didn't expect the Salvians to be as great a hosts as Variotans would be but then again, that'd be difficult for anyone. Even if she wanted to be sober, which she didn't, tapering off would be better anyway. And thus, two crew members were selected to carry along a bag with bottles each. She didn't need glasses in those bags because Dina was classy and environmentally conscious, drinking straight from the bottle helps to save glasses from needing to be washed. snnnniffffff The cameras closed in to watch Dina do a line off the bubble butt of a Vooters Air twink, balancing her drink perfectly as she bowed down to enjoy the body snort. Body snorts or body shots, Dina could never decide which one was better so she tended to do them both. Why choose when you didn't need to? ''So guys, it's Dina here. Of course you, like, know that. You're watching my show, after all. So, you might be wondering where I get my coke from. And you know, your girl Dina keeps it real. I only use 100% Variotan cocaine. Buy local, people. I read that some of you, like, fans were all like where can you get the best cocaine? I don't know! I have people to buy it for me, hahahaha. Hold on, I'll ask. Piet! Piet!'' ''Yeah?'' ''Where do you get my cocaine?'' "SnuifFuif. They give us a discount if I buy a kilo at a time.'' ''See people, SnuifFuif.'' ''Dina, they can get a discount.'' ''What?'' ''If they use the code DINADIVA, they get shipping and handling for free when buying online.'' ''See, you get the best things when watching me! Haha! Enjoy people and send me vids of you enjoying it! Life's a party, you know, like, a day not enjoyed is, like, a day not lived! Where's that guy gone off to? I'm going to see if he has a innie or an outie! Shotsssss!'' As the party continued on, the plane made its way to Deopolis. The TRIDENT officials would be in for a treat. Deopolis International Airport The doors of the Vooters Air jetliner were kept closed for a bit longer than normal. Dina Diva being the World's Greatest Diva, she had to make an entrance that was suitable for her stature. Of course, the Variotans were always very respectful of other cultures and knowing that the Salvians were a more demure people, the entrance had been kept relatively low key. ''So, everyone is on the same page? We walk down, I stand there all, like, strong and military-like and then when I go 'It's Dina Diva, b*tch!', you guys start. Oh, and save me a glass from those bottles if possible.'' The doors opened and Dina Diva and six of her assistants walked down. Two carrying Variotan flags, two carrying pyrotechnics and two carrying a bottle of champagne each. As she walked to a place where they'd be able to do their entrance, the six others hurried to take their place. Two to the sides of her, four behind her. Dina Diva gave them a hand signal. ''It's Dina Diva, b*tch! Wooooo!'' Simultaneously, bottles popped and soaked Dina Diva's shirt as the pyrotechnics sent two jets of fireworks off to her sides and the Variotan flags to her sides were waved around patriotically. Part of the respect that the Variotans had for the Salvian culture had meant that Dina Diva had covered her nipples with nipple pasties that had the Variotan flag printed on them. If any Salvians attempted to see her nipples, all they'd see was the Variotan flag. Whether that'd help stem any arousal was another question. Dina Diva did a salute as the pyrotechnics and the champagne ended and grabbed one of the bottles off of her assistants as she lowered her arm. She felt very lucky that this ended up going well. During one of the repetitions back in Variota, the pyrotechnics had ended up setting the flags on fire and burned away the hair and eyebrows of one of her assistants. Thankfully, working for Dina Diva came with a great healthcare insurance policy and that person was now resting easily in a recovery center. The bottle didn't have a lot left in it, barely two glasses and thus Dina just chugged it down. After all, she is nothing if not compassionate and having these people wait any longer than they'd need just so she can swallow between glasses wasn't a compassionate thing to do. The empty bottle was handed off and as her assistants pulled back to the jetliner, Dina Diva went towards the Salvians. Her crew would be shadowing, doing their thing. Variotan cocaine, it's one hell of a drug.

The Variotan Embassy in Zaspa was a nondescript building, an old apartment building they had managed to quickly buy and refurbish. The only two things that stood out were the massive Variotan flag hanging off the building and the two heavily armed Varinco Security mercenaries standing in front, keeping guard. While the practice of keeping internal embassies seemed strange to some, the federal nature of the nation meant that the Internal Diplomacy Department maintained a varied amount of embassies throughout the nation. Young diplomats seeking to become ambassadors to foreign nations often started in positions such as 'Variotan Ambassador to the Klan Reierfer Gebiet' or 'Reierfer Ambassador to the Kerke' to gain experience before being shipped off. The embassies served a varied amount of purposes. One could apply to extend their passport or drivers license, ask for legal aid from the state they belonged to and otherwise complete administrative tasks as one would expect from such a place. But beyond that, each embassy contained members of every ministry. Of course, keeping twenty-five people in each embassy was a money drain that the Internal Diplomacy Department didn't want to foot the bill for so it often came down to just a few being appointed for multiple ministries. This made it technically possible for a Variotan citizen to apply for asylum and relocation within his or her nation, just to and in a different state. No regular Variotan would ever attempt this as it took far longer than going your local town hall and showing off documentation that you lived and worked within that state. But Zaspans weren't regular Variotans. Almost no one within the nation was able to afford the flight to Variota, the few flights coming and going were wildly expensive even for Variotan standards, not to mention other costs such as renting or buying accommodation. The few Zaspans that could had done so before the ink on the treaty that incorporated Zaspa into Het Huisselant had dried. And thus, low level bureaucrats such as Henk Lantbroek were delegated with serving the Ministry of Welfare and Personal Growth. He didn't know what he had done to offend anyone to end up in this post, here in this backwater but here he was. Hours and hours of interviewing people, filling in documents and then submitting them to another low level bureaucrat that had the luxury of being seated in an office somewhere in Ferrefaaierhafen or Grootwaterflakte. Hell, even Reierferplattoterp was more agreeable to Henk than being here. It could've been worse though, he could have been one of the poor saps that were working in the refugee camps. ''Name?'' ''Bertram Wasserburg.'' ''Occupation?'' ''Farmer.'' ''Family?'' ''Wife, two kids.'' ''Write your names, dates of birth and ID numbers down.'' Henk slid a piece of paper to the person sitting across from him. The chance of this man getting into Variota with his family was slim, he knew that already. The man was on the older side and the Variotan authorities preferred moving over young parents with young children, people that could be integrated into the Variotan education system among others without many issues. The man slid the piece of paper back. It was as Henk feared, two forty year olds and their sixteen and seventeen year old children. Low priority. The only saving grace this man, Bertram, could have was if he wanted to be relocated to a rural area that was seeing a decline. Not that any of these Zaspans knew how to play the game, they always answered that they wanted to be relocated to Ferrefaaierhafen, Finfishafen, Ranjekaat... ''Relocation location?'' ''Uh, what?" ''Where do you want to be relocated to?'' "I get to choose?" ''That's how this works." "Do you have a map?" ''Behind you on the wall.'' After the twentieth Zaspan had asked such a question, Henk and his colleagues had quickly taped a map of Variota to the wall. Something for them to gawk at and take their pick. And really, Henk understood. If he had to choose, he'd choose one of the major cities too. But the world wasn't perfect, the situation wasn't perfect and the pockets of the Ministry of Welfare and Personal Growth weren't endless. They had goals and targets they needed to reach, something they could show the cabinet and the parliament. Revitalizing the rural areas was something that had been a long-standing goal. ''Uh... Put us down for Fingerfaaierplaats.'' sigh ''Listen, uh, Bertram. If I fill in Fingerfaaierplaats for you, you can be sure it gets thrown out. I can guarantee that already.'' ''Why?'' ''What do you expect? You're a farmer, you're without any degrees that we'd accept back in the mainland. How do you expect to earn your living?'' ''I'm a hard worker, I'm not afraid to work with my hands.'' ''That's the point I'm trying to make. We have people to do menial jobs, we have that. We don't need someone that doesn't have any degrees nor speak the language to do that. Even if you're somehow lucky enough to be selected, I guarantee that you'd be on welfare within the end of the year.'' ''But I need... My kids...'' ''I get it. I'm going to do something that I haven't done before and help you out a bit more than I should. You're a farmer and it seems like you're atleast half decent at it because you'd probably be dead or doing something else otherwise. I'm going to fill in a random rural village in Variota for you, one that is used for revitalization projects.'' ''But the city, education.'' ''Yes, yes. You want your children to get the best hand dealt and all that. The best hand you can give them right now is letting me fill this in. Yes, you'll end up in a rural village. Yes, it'll probably be some small speck of a place where the only supermarket is in the next village over. You'll have issues to overcome and the locals will probably not be all too friendly in the beginning. But you'll have the opportunity of eventually owning your own farm and your children will be able to learn and live in Variota.'' ''Fine, do it. Thanks for the help, I guess.'' ''You're welcome. You've now officially applied for relocation to Johansplattoterp, a village in the Klan Reierfer Gebiet. The Ministry reserves the right to take up to four weeks to respond to your application. My advice is, make sure that you're able to leave on short notice. The Ministry doesn't consult you on departure dates, it just assigns them.'' The man left and the next one lined up to get in. Another number on a long list of Zaspans looking to get out, looking for a better future in a different place. Varinco Security FOB 'Bommewerfer' ''What is the situation on the ground, kaptein?'' ''Not that great but it's less dire than before. We're surrounded on four sides. Nesneubar has slowed down their attacks on our ships since we've been in the nation, it seems that they don't want to antagonize us too much. The few attacks that have happened have seen retaliation by the Zaspan navy. It's a manageable situation.'' ''And the other three sides?'' ''Well... Stroiyhein's government was reported to have collapsed. Our reports say that that is partially true, they've devolved to how most of this blasted island is governed. As far as we can tell, it has split along two major lines following the two cultures within the nation. For now, our borders with Stroiyhein remain under the control of the smaller Ceriser faction of warlords. That's buying us time as they can't make a move against us without being attacked by the other side.'' ''Could they be worked with?'' ''Theoretically, they could. We'd need more feet on the ground, though. We don't have the manpower to support a side, we'd risk the borders.'' ''I'll make a note of it in my report back to the Ministry of the Armed Forces.'' ''The other two basically follow the same path, Estaria and the Oclait except that Estaria still has some semblance of a government. Has Het Apparath sent their reports?'' ''They have. Petty warlords control the Oclait, correct?'' ''Control is a large word, very large. But yes, petty warlords reign supreme there. Refugees have crossed the border but we've managed to somewhat stem the tide by a mix of barrages from our Os artillery pieces and deals with a couple of the warlords to keep people back.'' ''Os artillery? Any collateral damage?'' ''Probably. Nothing that shouldn't be able to be explained by regular fighting, however. The local forces in the Oclait lack the capabilities to figure it out. The choice was without winners but if I have to choose, I'd rather that we are the ones that lose less.'' ''Yes, you're right. Estaria?'' ''Estaria. Overpopulated, poor and famine-struck. Kept together, like everything else on this island it sometimes seems, by sheer military force and a cult of personality around their leader. We regularly see Estarians attempt to cross the border but end up getting shot by their own border guards. Suits me just fine, if I'm being honest. Saves us the bullets. We are in contact with a couple of black market dealers from the nation and the situation is dire. People dying in the streets from the famine, reports of people turning to cannibalism in order to survive as most food gets redirected to the elite and the military.'' ''What's the plan there?'' ''Simply put, we don't have one. We've been selling shipments of food to our contacts there for whatever they're able to offer, which isn't much. The situation isn't viable though. We need more people, we need more material. I want missiles, I want more pieces of Os, I need a way to exert influence over the surrounding areas without needing to send out my men into territories they aren't familiar with. The only other option is being overrun and I'm not ready to die yet.'' ''Karrewasser won't like this.'' ''f*ck Karrewasser. He wants results? He gives us what we need. Get the bill footed by the government or who the f*ck else. I can't do shit when I don't have shit.'' ''Fine, I'll write up the report and send it. Let's hope parliament votes in favor.'' Kaptein Theo Faaierhant had been a mercenary for twenty years now, twenty long years. First with a variety of private military companies and now with Varinco Security, leading the Silfer Fos and Koos Karrewasser brigades. This had made him the de facto military leader of the forces within Zaspa. When push came to shove, he even outranked the Zaspan generals. If he told them to attack, they had better attack. If he told them to jump, they had to jump. Don't even ask how high, just jump. None of that mattered if he had nothing to work with, though. The Zaspans were dreadfully under-equipped and under-trained compared to his forces, a situation that had slowly been turning around with the arrival of arms shipments and training by the Amalberga brigade and Folke Milisie troops but one that wasn't easily resolved. One benefit that they had was that Varinco weaponry was rampant in these parts as their relatively low cost meant that even the Ceriser forces could afford them. This ensured that the Zaspan troops had atleast some familiarity with the older generations of Varinco rifles and equipment. One of his grunts ran into the tent that he had been temporarily using as a base of operations, sweating and looking shifty. The bringer of bad news, Theo figured. They always had this sort of look when bad news was being brought. ''A message, sir. From the government.'' ''That's quick, I barely ended my call with the homefront.'' ''Huh, what? No sir, I don't think this is what you think it is. We're f*cked.'' ''What?'' ''They're asking what we can spare to support efforts.'' ''We can't spare shit. sigh Give me the message, I'll respond to them.'' To: King Aidan Redmond of Seylos Regarding: Request for aid The Variotan parliament has voted on the request for aid and has denied the request. There will be no Variotan forces coming to the aid of the Seylosian forces that are attempting to hold onto the last vestiges of Hodrea. We currently cannot spare the manpower or supplies within the area to do so nor do we feel that the situation is one that could reliably be solved through the pouring in of manpower and supplies. Even if the city was to be held, what then? Will the Seylosian military stay there indefinitely? Of course not. One cannot rebuild on a heap of rubble, no matter how much you want it to happen. To be frank, the Variotan parliament highly recommends that the Seylosian forces cut their losses and pull back to fight their battles in different places. A last ditch defense serves no one but whatever forces end up attacking the city. Should the Seylosian forces pull back, we can discuss destroying key parts of the city through the usage of Variotan missiles and peppering the general area with cluster munitions. That should serve to halt the advance of any enemy forces long enough to ensure that there will be a chance to regroup and fortify if needed. Beyond that, the Variotan parliament is willing to provide aid and join the international coalition but within reason. The Variotan people will not be sending their brothers and sisters into suicide missions merely so that the Seylosian crown, the Fulgistani communist or the Tagmatine cross can keep their influence from dying. We're willing to pour in manpower, supplies, funds and whatever is needed to halt the scourge and remove it from the land. But that also means granting us concessions. And that concession would be the full retreat of any influence that the international coalition members have in the northern Ceris area consisting of the Variotan State of Zaspa, Stroiyhein, Nesneubar, Estaria and northern sections of the Oclait while accepting that Het Huisselant maintains a hegemony of influence over these areas. In return, Het Huisselant is willing to forgo any attempt to gain a majority of influence in other areas of Ceris. The worth of the Variotan military might and the amount of destruction we could inflict on enemy forces is well known. We feel that this is a small price to pay for a situation that would end up benefiting everyone. Foorste Frauwe Dina Diva also made me forward her personal opinion that she was very disappointed that her name was written incorrectly within the letter sent. I quote: 'That's, like, sad.Tell him I said that, Reemy'. We hope to have informed you enough, Reemy Loopentlant, Minister of Diplomatic Affairs

Beep. No response. Beeeeeep. Beep, beep. Beeeep. Beep beep beep. Beeeeeeep. ''Teringlijerrrrr! Opstaan of ek ram ji's kop in!" A loud thumping could be heard from the floor under Reemy Loopentlant's bedroom. His lovely downstairs neighbor, a Reierfer woman that could best be described as the human equivalent of a piece of beef jerky that had won the lottery, had been suffering this fate ever since he'd been elected to head the new cabinet. Having a dastardly loud alarm clock wake you up way too early every morning would lead you to call the leader of your nation a typhoid sufferer too, not to mention giving him the lovely offer to bash his head in to help him get up better. ''Ja, ja. Hou ook fan ji, Tita.'' ''Hou ji bakkes, Reemy! Neem peuk'n mee foor mi." ''Sal'k toen." Of course, love and hate were often close together. A thin line, one that Reemy and his neighbor Tita often skirted but generally ended up on the loving side. He'd bring her cigarettes, she'd bake him a steak. He ends up in bed with some political groupie, Tita shoots at the paparazzi with her souped up BB gun. The dynamic worked, even if it was strange. It kept him sane in a world where things happened that made even Het Apparath shake their heads in disappointment. And today was one of those days where he'd have to be part of it, part of changing up the world for the better by embracing the lesser evils. The diplomatic equivalent of making up the balance between taking the risk of going out to get condoms and possibly losing your coat rack deer for the evening or taking the risk of having to visit the doctor for some antibiotics against the burning feeling bubbling up deep inside your urethra and testicles. A summit to discuss lifting the restrictions placed on Greater Serbia by the international community in exchange for concessions. When the Serbians contacted his government through their embassy, he had to think about it. Yes, his government was on the hunt for something to wave around. But this could've backfired immensely. Luckily, the international community was willing to do their little song and dance in the Pollervan Hallen. The Tagmatines, the Fulgistani's, the Serbians, the lot of them would come and kowtow in the hope of ending up with something that wouldn't be called the Wurld's Greatest Mistake in twenty years. Like Reemy's father always told him, the road to the best outcome is blocked by compromises. But in a wurld where Karrewasser wasn't yet able to offer up a missile that could level a city for the price of Dina Diva's average weekend of fun, that best outcome wasn't possible. The bathroom mirror showed a scruffy face, a face that had seen a lot. Dina Diva had taken him along on a night of fun a couple of days ago and he still hadn't fully recovered. He tried to tell her no but, similar to how he had to kowtow to the international community soon, Dina Diva was a force to be reckoned with in her own way and having her and her show on his side meant having a large share of the Variotan population on his side or, at the very least, less against him. If that meant snorting lines and banging a parade of mask-wearing, non-disclosure agreement signing unknowns, that's what Reemy had to do. It's a truly hard life, being a Variotan politician. A splash of water and a quick shave and he was out the door. Delegates would be arriving, although he had been able to pass off the chore of welcoming them at the airport to Quintana Wijnmaaker, leader of a party and coalition that supported his party and coalition and had in turn been given the role of leading some minor ministry. He hated waiting on some minor functionary from Backwater Nation Wherever, having to greet them like they were your best friend and pretending to care about what they did, who they were and the nation they served. In a way, it was weird that a man with this mindset would end up becoming a leading politician as well as long-serving minister of Diplomatic Affairs but for Reemy, it was simple. Everything a person did could be explained, analysed, used and influenced. Empathy, something that more idealistic snowflakes liked to espouse as the next best thing since the invention of fire, came down to one core concept. Lying. Lying, lying, lying. Big, fat lies. Do you really care that that small kid's cat was killed by a spaced-out tourist that didn't notice the difference between cocaine and meth-laced PCP? Of course not. Reemy had never been a cat person. But when it came down to it, he lied, he cried, he worked and he toiled. To better himself, to better the nation. And now he'd do it to better the wurld. Better the wurld according to the Variotan vision of what it should be. If only because, like the Leeffessang song that was on the radio as he drove to the banquet hall told him, 'Every day is the same, you'll never know if you'll be able to walk away.'. And Reemy wanted to have his name down in history before he wasn't able to walk away.

I'd be interested in sending a delegate as well, although we'd probably have less lofty goals than the others.

I think there's a lot of things you could get involved with, depending on how things go with people. Part of that ties with what Tag said, perhaps a change in administration or some such. Even if you don't, I'd say it'd be a good thing to attempt a PR round or something, send a group of delegates to various nations in order to attempt to gain some goodwill and try to show off that, even if the government isn't exactly changing, its actions are. That'd mean sending out letters to the various governments of the world. Sounds like a lot of work but you can basically copy the same letter and change some things to fit the nation. If you get lucky, enough of them will respond positively to atleast get some form of relations normalizing. Once that's done, you can move on to more productive things with those governments. Or with private organisations such as the TEAAAM Institute. I'd imagine Greater Serbia not really going through the storm that was without issues, businesses closing, etc. That'd be an avenue to continue, finding investments and organisations to move into the nation. You'll probably suffer the same plight as any other dubious state, loans requiring high interest rates, businesses wanting a larger share, etc. but a bit of economic investment and your government willing to work with that goes a long way. Beyond that, there's always the avenue of black markets and such if you're not looking towards normalizing relations, negotiations, etc. That'd mean going the North Korea route and attempting to supply your nation with atleast some of the bare needed essentials, luxury items and other such goods through front businesses, strawmen, criminal organisations and the few nations in the world that are basically in the same boat (although I'm not sure if there are any active at the moment). There's enough interesting roleplaying that could be imagined around that.

Late response. I've never really set a set date on the settlement of Variota due to the varying factors, research that I did back then did end up with a realistic date of the early 1400's in regards to when it'd be possible to have a genuine, coordinated colonisation effort by following how European naval technology developed IRL. Chinese naval technology would have allowed that date to be pushed to earlier dates but that seemed like a wank back then as any Aloorians moving to settle Variota would have had to travel from western Europa where the primary cultures weren't/aren't Asian. Vikings are another group that colonised early but they also suffered a wide variety of setbacks and I found it highly unlikely that a group using Viking naval technology would end up successfully settling over such a large distance without eventually fizzling out of existence. However, since then, there's been people that have settled earlier, the migration map is being worked on, etc. which means that I'll probably wait on the migration map being done before I put down a definite time down. Giving the migration map a glance, I'm seeing Anglo movements towards the islands Seylos ends up in the 1200's, which means that theoretically, Aloorians could have moved further towards Alharu around the same time. If something like that would end up happening, me pushing back the dates to earlier centuries, I'll probably make it so that a bunch of Aloorians remained back in Europa for a while, more so than set in history at the moment. Such a date would probably also help your history as that'd mean we'd be in the area in time to convert you. Now, Tag's somewhat right. My religion doesn't line up with any of the RL churches due the changes I made, I made the Kerke fit a civilization that primarily lived on boats; the Variotan messiah, the Holy Wilm of Amalberga first appeared on a ship, for example. I'd say, however, that the 'big churches' as they exist on Eurth are mainly seen as such because they're the first ones named whenever anyone asks about churches existing instead of them being actually big (as I don't believe there's been much worked out about the various churches and their sizes in different nations beyond the ones they originate in). To give an example on things that are, probably, different compared to other churches: Hedonism is wanted and, in some cases, expected; those with wealth that do not flaunt it atleast somewhat are seen as suspicious, which partially goes back to times when the population had to expand to new vessels. A rich ship captain/clan leader that wouldn't pass on ships or build new ships for his children was actively holding his children and the clan back. But also, as most faithful Variotans would tell you, why wouldn't God want us to enjoy our time as His creations living on His creation, located in the galaxy that He also made. He ensured that we were able to develop all these things to enjoy ourselves. Yadayada. There are a lot of little bits here and there but let's face it, that's just a normal thing in religion and there's nothing that keeps the Grenesian branch of the Kerke from having their own little quirks here and there to fit with the locals and their original religion.

Hi Acadia, As mentioned on Discord and within the balance sheet itself, the total amount of points is 4, not 5. Please rework your statistics so it works with the allocated 4 points.

The Treaty of Ferrefaaierhafen is mentioned here and I believe I mention it a couple of times here and there on other threads (such as here). Historically, the Treaty of Ferrefaaierhafen made nations accept Variotan hegemony over the Keelpijppassage as well as provide a section of land in each port of importance (which generally meant any port seeing enough international trade) on the Keelpijp. In return, Het Huisselant protected the waters and enabled all trade vessels from ratifiers to pass through and trade without costs. Throughout the ages, it developed further and is currently the ACTF (Agreement on the Continuation of the Treaty of Ferrefaaierhafen). One could deny signing it back in the day but that would have lead to rampant attacks by the Frijkaapers, Variotan privateers whose attacks also ended up ending the Lukan Empire, until you did sign. The section of land requirement was removed from the treaty at some point or another in history and the treaty now offers all merchant vessels safe and neutral passage through the Keelpijp, among other goodies. The ACTF dictates that no third-party military vessels, thus from nations not bordering the Keelpijp, can come into the Keelpijp waters without explicit permission from the Executive Chair, it promotes cooperation among the various states to project the Keelpijp from piracy and such, nations work together more, etc. The various nations come together in the Treaty Council (not set on the name), which is led by the Executive Chair, which is permanently held by us. It's basically a treaty protecting the waters so that they remain neutral for trade purposes as well as a loose consortium of nations working together in certain efforts. Variota still provides the majority of security forces. Your location on the Keelpijp would mean that you've been part and are part of the Treaty of Ferrefaaierhafen and the ACTF. You're on the edge though so you could just opt-out with no hard feelings, although that'd also mean that you would have been and still are in a lesser situation trade and diplomacy-wise in regards to the Keelpijp. Lukinagrad has its own iiwiki page, where its empire is briefly mention as well. There's also my expansion RP that led to Lukinagrad's inclusion into Het Huisselant which might give some insight into the nation. The Lukan Kingdom started in 1061 and managed to grow until 1534/8, when their denial to sign the Treaty of Ferrefaaierhafen meant that their fleets were slowly being killed off. The nation never recovered and started a slow descent into stagnation and other such fun until it completely lost its outer territories in 1828, as the last King died and the last sections of the nation turned into a democracy. Realistically, that'd mean that parts of your western area would have been part of the Lukan Kingdom until some date that we'd have to determine. I would probably say dates in the late 18th century would work with perhaps some of the western fringes waiting to flip, be declared war on by you, whatever else until 1828.

Keep in mind that taking that location means aligning some parts of your history to fit the bits that are already in place for the area, the Treaty of Ferrefaaierhafen and how it applies to the Keelpijp being one of them. In addition, I currently have Lukinagrad set down as the capital of a historic empire that slowly collapsed so that'd mean that certain western parts of your nation would have been later additions to your nation.

Hi! I've asked around and it seems that none of our mentors or mods have shared our balance sheet with you yet! The balance sheet has been thought up to allow every new player to get a fair chance while also ensuring that it remains fair and interesting for everyone. It's a bit of a read but it tells you exactly why, what and how. Please read it through and let me know through Discord PM or PM here on the forums about your decision in regards to point distribution, as it'll impact the amount of land, population and GDP per capita you'll be able to take! Should you have any questions, please first read the FAQ located in the document. Should your question not be answered by them, feel free to PM me either here or on Discord and I'll do my best to aid you. Balance sheet & info

Hi! I've asked around and it seems that none of our mentors or mods have shared our balance sheet with you yet! The balance sheet has been thought up to allow every new player to get a fair chance while also ensuring that it remains fair and interesting for everyone. It's a bit of a read but it tells you exactly why, what and how. Please read it through and let me know through Discord PM or PM here on the forums about your decision in regards to point distribution, as it'll impact the amount of land, population and GDP per capita you'll be able to take! Should you have any questions, please first read the FAQ located in the document. Should your question not be answered by them, feel free to PM me either here or on Discord and I'll do my best to aid you. Balance sheet & info