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The Pelican and the Raven


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The Pelican and the Raven

 

Scene 4,
Confederate States of Florenia,
Colonial Governorate of Sademi-Mikura,

20 August 2022, 16h03,

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Ceded in the 19th century by the Esonian government in response to Florentian pressure, the port of Sademi has now become a popular seaside resort among the middle class of Belleville. Crouching on the beach, a three-quarter empty soda bottle in his hand, Daiki looks out at the ocean. The skyline is broken by an oversized liner passing behind the local torii. It is slowly making its way towards the harbour, belching out huge wisps of smoke, to drop off many Florentians who have come to enjoy the 'local exoticism'. The beach is covered with a thick layer of tourists lying nonchalantly on their towels, sheltered under their umbrellas, while in between them hawkers skilfully make their way, shouting their wares. Most of them sell ice cream, sodas, alcohol, sandwiches, but also Esonian snacks redesigned to please the Lysians.

The young man gets up to sit at the beach bar, the " Rayon Ensoleillé ", a small wooden shanty set directly on the sand. To his left, a man slumped against the zinc starts his third glass of bourbon. To his right, a child pesters his mother for a second ice cream. On the counter, next to the soda menu, a radio plays " Sous le soleil Sademian ", the latest summer song in vogue. The barman sighs: this is the sixth time since the beginning of the day that the radio station has played the song. It's a good thing the Florentian tourists like it, otherwise the radio would have been turned off already. Back to Daiki, huge concrete hotels and flats stand along the beach. Most of them were built in the 1950s and the owners are reluctant to invest heavily in renovating them. These buildings would probably be in ruins if the colonial government did not force certain standards to be respected in order to preserve local tourism.

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Daiki finishes his can in one gulp. The overly sweet taste and the throat-wrenching bubbles don't take away the bitterness he feels inside. His aunt Rini, who lives in Belleville with her nine-year-old son Yogi, broke her leg in an accident at work. In order to take care of her, Daiki and his parents are forced to move into Rini's flat to look after her. Daiki will have to leave all his friends behind! Fortunately, they will be able to keep in touch through social networks, but it won't be the same. The young man gets up, carefully throws his can in a bin and walks with a determined step towards his flat.

 

~~~~~


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O Belleville! Home of industrialists, financers and intellectuals. A city full of opportunities and dynamism, priding itself on being the lungs of Florentia, the "Star of the South".
O Belleville! Home of mafiosos, drunks and prostitutes. A city bloated with corruption and misery, blaming itself for being the Florentian brothel, "the Sodom and Gomorrah of the South".

Indeed, the "fantastic Belleville" is a place of contrasts. The city centre is full of art deco skyscrapers, with a chic and modern - at least by Florantian aesthetic standards - marina, with a nearby Lysian colonial-style district where the Javiosian parliament and palace are located. These areas are very touristy, so expensive souvenir shops, hotels and luxury cabarets abound. Apart from fancy flats, most of the buildings are office buildings where the local middle class works hard.

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However, as you move away to the suburbs, you come across neighbourhoods that mix colonial architecture with small mid-19th century flats. These districts are inhabited by the average Bellevillian who drinks his bourbon at the corner bistro and takes the tram every morning to work in the downtown offices. Far from the big cabarets of the city centre, it is also where you can find many concert cafés where small R'n'B and jazz bands perform. In this close suburb lies 'Little Esonice', a neighbourhood in which the majority of Esonian immigrants, mostly from the Florentian colonies, are concentrated. While the architectural style is broadly similar, there is the occasional temple, some Esonian-inspired buildings, and many shops that would normally be found in Esonice.

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If you go further away, you reach the working-class neighbourhoods. They are organic, dilapidated and scattered with small slums. These are often clustered around industrial sites, in the hope of getting a job there. It is risky to venture into such areas. Indeed, the police work almost openly with the Esonian and Cashari mafias and prefer to leave these areas to them. Thus, drug trafficking and prostitution are commonplace. An aimless youth hangs out there, and the only future offered to them by the fantastic Belleville is the factory or crime. Sometimes, in the evening, if you listen carefully, you can hear some musician wailing a blues, with despair on his trumpet.

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This is Belleville, a multifaceted metropolis that eight million souls call home.

 

~~~~~

 

29 January 2023

Dear parents,

It has been a while since I last wrote to you and I apologise. I haven't had time to write to you because of the January offensive and, for obvious security reasons, the use of smartphones is forbidden even at rest.

I hope you are well and that health is on your side. How is Auntie Rini's rehabilitation going? Apparently soldiers are given priority in hospitals but, Belleville being far from the front, I suppose Rini can continue her rehabilitation without being disturbed. I received the letter about your raise, Dad. Congrats! I told you they would realise that you are very competent.

From my side, it could be better. The equipment is very heavy, I'm not used to it. But I feel like I'm getting better little by little, so that's reassuring. The rations always contain the same thing, to the point where I know the contents by heart. The advantage is that if I am missing something, I know it. I'm getting seriously fed up with their cassoulet and I miss your curry, Mum. But I don't have a say in the rations.

The sergeant - de Lavoin, as he is called - is quite an idiot, not to say an insult. It is said that he has been promoted because his father is an officer. And then they wonder why we're having trouble winning the war. Fortunately, I made a friend. He is another soldier, also a conscript. His name is Alphonse Haimeud and he comes from Tyronia. Did you know that in Tyronia they eat boiled peanuts? I learned it from him and, according to what he says, it is simple but good. I promised him to try it when it's all over.

(The passages in brackets are for adults only, Yogi must not know about them. The soil in Narizonia is swampy as can be, you're always walking in the mud and it rains almost every day. Moisture seeps in everywhere. It damages the equipment, numbs the body, freezes the blood. It's very rough. And still it's nothing compared to what I did. Seeing someone being killed is one thing, but killing someone is another. In the moment it's okay because I have adrenaline, I'm afraid to die first. It's just a survival reflex. However, it's when I'm on a break that I think about it, telling myself that I've taken someone's life, and I can't even remember their face. With the bombing, you can also see pieces of dead guys. The first time I vomited.)

(I know for a fact that we are the bad guys in the story. This war is wearing me down.)

All in all, I'm doing pretty well. Take care of yourselves. Love to you, Rini and Yogi.

See you soon,
Daiki

 

(OOC : I heavely thank @Esonice for helping me with Sademi and Mikura despite being last of the priority list.)

Edited by Florentia (see edit history)
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  • 1 month later...

The Pelican and the Raven

 

Scene 5,
Confederate States of Florentia,
Montcharmin, Imperial capital city,
08/01/2023, 20h57

The Most Serene Plaza, paved with high-quality marble, is a semicircle from which three avenues lead off: the Most Serene Avenue, the Boulevard of Eternal Glory and the Boulevard of Saint Elme. The square is dominated at its centre by a huge seven-metre high statue in gilded bronze, which itself stands on a two-metre high black marble base. The statue represents the imperial pelican, with a warlike expression and a bulging bust. In one of its talons it holds the lightning bolts of the Holy Lord, symbolising the Emperor's divine right to rule Florentia. In the pelican's mouth is a glube, a metaphor for the Empire's imperialist ambitions.

On the edge of this grandiose square is the imperial palace, nicknamed the "pelican's nest", where the entire imperial family resides. An archetype of antebellum architecture, the grandiose facade is visible from the entire Avenue of Eternal Glory. A splendidly uniformed imperial guard, armed with sabres and wearing bicorns, stands along a high, dangerously pointed gate, so sharp that one could easily impale oneself on it while trying to pass through. The entrance to the building consists of a dozen colonnades supporting a facade on which a fresco is carved. This depicts two scenes around the Florentine pelican. In the first, he holds out a crucifix to the Cashari raven, a symbol of the attempts to convert the Cashari people. In the second, he establishes his dominance over the imperial colonies, i.e. the Esonian ports, Ocraly and Fasaìl, represented respectively by a red panda, a donkey and a wolf.

Construction of the palace began in 1812 and was not completed until 1855 due to the scale of the project, shortly before the civil war. It is a miracle that it survived unscathed. Since then, it has represented the country's former glory, before everything started to fall apart.

"Our country is falling apart, it is losing its intrinsic values little by little. By giving rights to the slaves, we have made them lazy and unruly. The revolt in Narizonia is proof of this.

When I come to the throne, my first measure will be to settle the Cashari problem once and for all. Florentia cannot solve this problem alone, but with the help of a major power. Anglie is the perfect candidate: a rising star, it has succeeded in securing its dominance in Europa, and it is only a matter of time before the new wurld follows suit. With Anglia, Florentia will be able to reclaim its rightful role as a major power."

As the Emperor reads the article, his hands tremble more and more, until he is forced to put the paper in his lap so as not to drop it. Since his incident, caused by Parkinson's disease, his physical weakness has only increased, forcing him to use a wheelchair. Slumped in front of the bay window, he can see the private gardens behind the palace from his room. As he nears the end of his life, all the luxuries of his vast personal appartment seem futile. The Emperor has never felt so diminished, so humiliated. But this feeling is even greater on this day.

While he has always worked, within the limits of his powers, to have the States and the Senate grant more rights to the Casharis and Esonians, here his son is in danger of throwing it all out the window, setting the country back 150 years. Perhaps he had been too weak against the nobility? The nobility, staunch supporters of slavery, have long ruled the Senate. Only a few exceptions occasionally gain access, such as the liberal Désiré de Belleville, the current chancellor, or Hugo Dellague, a radical progressive.

The Comtoise clock, finely carved from exotic Mesothalassian wood and whose cuckoo clock is a gold pelican inlaid with sapphire, strikes 9 p.m.

"It's time to go to bed," Ambroise murmurs as he crawls painfully under his blanket. He closes his eyes in the mad hope that, the next day, all the problems will have disappeared. The hope of finally being at peace.

 

Scene 6,
Confederate States of Florentia,
Montcharmin, Imperial capital city,
22/01/2023, 15h02

The Emperor is dead. Peacefully, in his sleep, his heart stopped beating. What everyone feared feverishly without daring to speak the name has finally happened. On this day, the funeral of Ambrose III takes place. A long procession, starting from the imperial palace, continues on foot through the city centre to the Cathedral of Notre-Dame de Montcharmin. It is composed of the entire imperial family, senators, governors and leading members of the nobility, as well as most of the Louvian royal family, invited by the Florentian government because of dynastic ties. Along the way, the crowd watched the spectacle, separated by metal barriers set up for the occasion. Many of them burst into tears. Others stand upright and solemn.

After entering the cathedral, all the guests sit in the benches, with the imperial family in the front row. The Bishop of Montcharmin, Father Pierre-André, climbs onto the platform and taps on his microphone to check that it is properly adjusted. He delivers a sermon and a few kind words before indicating to the guests to come and gather one by one beside the coffin of the deceased. The coffin, placed right in front of the platform, is opened, revealing the Emperor. It has been a long time since we have seen him so peaceful. One by one, the guests stand up. Some just look at him, more or less long. Some kiss his forehead or his right hand. Others break down in tears. Or some make a sign of the cross and a bow. Then the coffin is closed and carried to the imperial crypt, where all previous emperors are buried.

Exceptionally, because of the parallel war against the Federation, the Senate decided to organise the burial of Ambrose III and the coronation of Prince Celestin on the same day, in order to avoid increasing the risk of a Casharis terrorist attack. In a most solemn moment, the orchestra begins to play "L'Impériale", the imperial anthem and former national anthem. Celestin go on the stage and the bishop presented him with the imperial attributes: the lightning bolts of God, symbolising the Emperor's divine right to rule, and the imperial sceptre on top of which is perched the pelican devouring the wurld. The Prince is crowned Emperor Celestin III of Florentia. Applause breaks out, resounding from the nobility, but timid from the imperial family, worried about a pro-Anglia reactionary taking the throne.

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Emperor Célestin III of Florentia

A quarter of an hour later, after delivering the imperial sermon and making a speech, the new Emperor exits, followed by his wife, the imperial family and the rest of the procession, before boarding the imperial car. Finished in 1959, the Elysée Zelph was a special order of Emperor Florent I. Eight metres long, it is very inconvenient to drive and is therefore reserved for special occasions.

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Imperial car "Zelph", from the imperial car brand Elysée

As the Emperor greets his subjects, heading for the imperial palace, a man with a gun emerges from the crowd and, taking advantage of the stupor effect, has time to fire three bullets at the Emperor, shouting "Death to the traitor", in reference to Celestin III's alignment with Anglia. Although the assassin was quickly subdued, it was too late for the new Emperor, and his reign had just ended. Surprisingly, the crowd, instead of booing the assassin, congratulates him, characterising his act as 'patriotic'. While the new Empress weeps loudly and the nobility is outraged, the imperial family rejoices inwardly.

 

 

As Celestin never had a child, the crown fell to Prince Ambroise-Alexandre. So preparations were made for the new coronation, which took place on 2 February 2023, again with the Louvian royal family present. This time, everything went wonderfully well, and the one nicknamed the "great Prince of the little people" became the "great Emperor of the little people". Indeed, this nickname had been given to him because Ambroise-Alexandre always enjoyed walking through the streets of Montcharmin and mingling with the crowd, chatting with people, sometimes even getting them into the imperial car, much to the displeasure of the royal family. His marriage to a commoner, Rosie Bellysis, and a cabaret dancer at that, definitely sealed his nickname, giving all the young women of Florentia fairy-tale fantasies, while scandalising most of the aristocracy.

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Emperor Ambroise IV of Florentia

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Empress Rosie of Florentia

Edited by Florentia
Typo errors. (see edit history)
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The Pelican and the Raven

Scene 7,
Confederate States of Florentia,
Montcharmin, Imperial capital city,
05/02/2023, 22h24

Hugo Lysandre "Lys" Dellague is a man of 30 years of age and slightly above average height, a nice 1,79 meters, with a slender and flexible appearance, like a cut branch in which the sap is still circulating. On his face, a cunning, almost feline air noticeably sparkles with an extravagant madness that sometimes bursts into intense, emphasized verses. His style of dress, a hundred years behind the wurld, consists of a royal blue suit with tails and braces, white shirts imported directly from Lysia, and black and white shoes. Of course, this is always accompanied by a tie and a hat, in his case a borsalino, as every gentleman should. He could be described as a seemingly chic man who takes care of his appearance, but certainly not a snob. On the contrary!

Tonight, rain, wind and thunder are falling on Montcharmin. Standing on the balcony railing of the imperial appartment, swaying in the wind, nearly falling three floors down onto the stone floor several times, and shouting at the sky, Hugo euphorically expresses his admiration for the storm:

“- While elders call you a mess,
Blind to your almightiness,
Me, an imp, admire you
In this ruthless rendezvous.

I wish I could serenade
A symphony of your shade
As powerful as your winds,
As beautiful as your lights.

Your august vitality
Is a sign of greatness.
It is almost a duty
To love your tricky madn-

- Please, Lys, come inside... I wouldn't want you to catch pneumonia on your eighth day in office," Ambroise said from the balcony doorway, not daring to go and get it himself for fear of making him fall.

"Good! Good. I'm coming." Hugo climbed down from the railing and joined the Emperor in his appartment. Ambroise hands the Chancellor a towel to dry his clothes and his face. Hugo thanks him and does so, before putting the towel back in its place. The two friends each sit down on a chair.

"Concerning my draft constitution, Ambroise, I intend to put it to a referendum. I have the support of the peasants, the workers and the slaves.

- I will send the imperial guard to watch the polling stations, to prevent the provincial armies from putting any pressure. However, how do you intend to deal with the Senators, and the nobility in general?"

Hugo's smile widens into an ambiguous expression. He sneers slightly.

"You know my methods. The most problematic ones will mysteriously disappear. Did you know that pigs are particularly voracious when it comes to human flesh? I learned that in my... profession.

- It's not very ethical...

- Hey! You've always been perfectly aware that my money is covered in blood. And yet you were so happy when I covered the cost of building public schools in Bayave. Don't start becoming a hypocrite.

- Certainly...", replies Ambroise. Indeed, Hugo's fortune was built on the prohibition of alcohol in the states of Javiosie, Bayave and Yalme. Originally a simple bayou kid, having learned to read thanks to his religious education, his poverty quickly pushed him towards crime. Thanks to his ingenuity and his sometimes unpredictable character, he is now the head of the largest criminal organisation in the country. It is 'thanks' to him that the cabarets of Belleville still sell quality alcohol and that the police turn a blind eye. He regularly uses his personal fortune to improve the living conditions of the little people, giving everyone the opportunity to succeed in life, which greatly contributes to his popularity. Well... except among the elite who consider him a dangerous radical, an annoying insect that should be stomped out once and for all. Regularly, surprise searches take place at his home but never any clues, so he is released each time for lack of evidence. Hugo even managed to make the intensive investigation of his person look like harassment, a repression on the part of the elites, who definitely want to silence the "spokesman of the people".

"And aren't you afraid of someone trying to assassinate you?", asks the Emperor.

- Hah!" he exclaims. Let them come. My name is associated with the greatest collision of consciences, with an economic, social and political revolution. I go through the old principles as through butter, I judge them as one would judge condemned men to death, and I destroy them. I am not a man, I am dynamite", concludes Hugo Dellague with a determined, almost fanatical smile, which is so wide as to be disturbing.

Ambroise does not know what to say. Of course, this is not the first time Hugo has said such things, but it is difficult to get used to his strange moments of euphoria.

"Do you have any bourbon, by the way? I'm dying of thirst," he finally says, breaking the silence. "I'd like to show you the beginning of my constitution. You'll see, it's great. Every company will have to have a workers' union, slavery banned, racial equality guaranteed. Can you imagine? Florentia will finally be able to start its march towards happiness, universal happiness. And we will be their guides. Because that's what it's all about, Ambroise. That's what it's always been about: guaranteeing happiness, whatever the cost."

 

Edited by Florentia
Wrong meters to feet conversion. (see edit history)
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  • 3 weeks later...

The Pelican and the Raven

 

Scene 8,
Free Cashari Federation,
Libreville, Federal capital city,
8/02/2023, 18h52

Tsula Passereaux is one of those powerful, independent women with great strength of mind. A distant descendant of the last chief of the Aniyunya tribe, the largest tribe in Florentia, she was an obvious choice for the Aniyunyans in tribal elections. She quickly became popular for her social rhetoric, pan-Cashari nationalism and anti-Europan revanchism, and her appointment as Federation President came as no surprise to anyone, despite slight opposition from radical Dagvans, their tribe having long been enemies of the Aniyunyans.

The gold and weapons reserves seized in the former capital of Narizonia - formerly named Horlantopolis in honour of the Narizon dictator Jeremiah Horlant, then renamed Libreville by the Casharis - allowed, after the armistice, the repair of infrastructures and the construction of social housing in order to decongest the refugee camps, which were increasingly full of slaves fleeing Florentia. The creation of a national militia was also one of Passereaux's important measures. The main goal is to train the Casharis in guerrilla techniques in order to make life difficult for the Florentian troops on the front line but also behind it. Furthermore, in case of a defeat, the Casharis can continue to harass the Florentians even after the war.

The federal government is run by a single parliament, the Tribal Assembly. It is composed of 12 elected members per tribe, for a total of 60 deputies, in order to represent all tribes equally: Aniyunya, Dagvan, Agali, Udyevdi and Tsunadad. Initially, it was suggested that 12 seats should be reserved for the Lysians, who make up 15% of the population. This question led to the formation of two groups: the supporters of Tsula Passereaux, who wanted to unite the island's tribes under a single banner and drive out the settlers; and the supporters of Woya Genève - whose first name meaning 'dove' is an indicator of her will - who wanted the creation of a peaceful society that also included the Lysians.

Unfortunately for Genève, the majority of the deputies leaned towards Passereaux because of the relationship with Florentia. Passereaux and her supporters considered that 'enemies of the nation' could not be trusted and that including Lysians in the government would be a danger to national security. This was the first step towards an increasingly harsh policy towards the Lysians, guided by revenge for their treatment. Lysians who have not fled are driven off their land, and buildings inhabited by Lysians are expropriated by the state. The Lysians are either forced to flee or to gather in ghettos. Although no such law was enacted, a segregation between the Casharis and the Lysians gradually took place, encouraged by the anti-Europan speeches of Passereaux. For the first time in a long time, the Casharis are tasting freedom, and most of them intend to take advantage of it at a full extent.

Today's session focuses on the integration of the many militias that emerged after the revolution into the National Militia, a militia directly run by the Ministry of Defence. These small, autocephalous militias are politicised, even radicalised, and cause instability. However, some are directly linked to certain tribes and, according to their leaders, only ensure that the central government does not oppress the tribe with which they are associated. This is why this measure proposed by Tsula Passereaux is causing some gnashing of teeth, although the general opinion is in favour. After hours of bitter debate, the vote finally took place: 43 votes against 17, the law was accepted.
When the President left parliament, many journalists were waiting for her, holding their microphones towards her. With a calm and confident look, Passereaux took the time to answer them :

"This measure is a necessity. We cannot afford to be divided when our first national danger is standing at our doorstep, ready to crush us. Bringing all the militias together under one umbrella will also allow for better coordination, both between the militians and with the federal armed forces. The key to our victory lies in unity.

When the interview is over, she gets into the presidential car and orders her driver to take her back to the presidential palace. The driver complies and starts the car. During the journey, Tsula looks out of the right-hand window on her side. She sighs. Since she has been in power, she has done her utmost to pursue an egalitarian policy between the tribes, despite her title as chief of the Aniyunyas, so as not to repeat the mistakes of the past. Indeed, if all the Casharis had been united against the Europan invaders for once, her people would never have had to suffer for more than two centuries. However, some people do not agree and continue to put obstacles in her way. While the vast majority of the natives appreciate Tsula, some radical groups are noisy. Especially among the Dagvans. Perhaps she should be more concerned about them... While she is lost in thought, the President notices a car coming from the right and speeding towards her. Tsula barely has time to understand the situation when the car is hit hard. Passers-by look on in horror, stopping due to morbid curiosity. The attacker, a pickup truck, is rammed deep into the right side of the sedan, while the dead terrorist's head lies on the steering wheel. An emergency medical team arrives after a few minutes, breaking the terrifying silence. The terrorist is dead. So is the driver of the presidential car. However, a miracle! Mrs Passereaux is still breathing but is in a coma. She was rushed to the nearest hospital, where her condition was stabilised. Now we just have to pray that she wakes up.

 

Scene 9,
Free Cashari Federation,
Libreville, Federal capital city,
25/02/2023, 20h17

She came out of her coma after less than 48 hours and apparently had no physical after-effects apart from a few scratches. This is miraculous. However, psychologically, it's not the same story. Since she woke up, Tsula has shut herself away in her presidential flat, refusing to talk to anyone. Indeed, the assassination attempt - the nature of which has been confirmed by the terrorist's links to a Dagvan nationalist group - has completely shaken the President. Tsula circles her office like a caged lioness. The curtains are closed and the darkness is barely penetrated by a small desk lamp. She talks to herself in a low voice, as if she were being monitored :

"I was right all along. Why didn't I listen to my instincts! But they won't get me. The proof is in the failed assassination attempt. I'm a Miracle, which means that the gods have protected me, and they will continue to protect me."

She pauses for a moment to think again, before continuing :

"They chose me. That must be it! The gods have chosen me to guide their followers, to protect the Casharis. I must confirm my theory."

Suddenly she opens the curtains and then the window before leaning in.

"O Raven creator of the wurld, if what I believe is true, then please send me a sign! Send me one of your fellow creature and I will carry out my task."

Tsula had barely finished her sentence when a raven landed on the window sill. At first she recoils, but then she moves closer, not daring to touch it. They stare at each other silently for several seconds, before the raven flies away and disappears. That's enough for Tsula. Staring at the sky, drunk with joy, she thanks the Raven god. From now on, Mrs. Passeraeux is more determined than ever to free her people, no matter the cost.

 

Scene 10,
Free Cashari Federation,
Libreville, Federal capital city,
27/02/2023, 10h03

The Council of Ministers takes place in one of the rooms of the presidential palace. The antebellum walls were once covered with tapestries glorifying the Florentian colonisation, but these pieces were burnt during the revolution. All the ministers are seated along a rectangular table. Tsula Passereaux is standing at the end of the table with both hands on the furniture.

"I have prolonged my absence and I apologise, but I needed it to recover from the event."

A murmur of understanding spreads among the ministers.

"As you know, the survival of the nation is at stake, and all our efforts must be directed towards that goal. However, you know as well as I do that extremist groups are still active despite the integration of the autocephalous militias and act in the shadows, as my recent stay in hospital shows. Mrs. Donti," she said, addressing the Minister of the Army, "we must immediately conduct an investigation in each tribe in order to flush out all leaders affiliated with these groups. And especially among the even more virulent Dagvans.

Then Agasga Ursule, the Minister of Social Affairs, intervenes with a reproachful look :

"Say right away that all Dagvans are terrorists ! I find this targeting of my tribe particularly insulting, Madam President.

Tsula glares at her, giving her a dark stare. She doesn't seem to like having her authority challenged in this way, but says nothing. This is strange for the ministers, who see her for the first time showing a slight sign of authoritarianism to them. It's probably nothing, but it's still slightly and inexplicably disturbing.

"I have never, never, said that all Dagvans are terrosists, simply because this isn't true. I say what is. However, for historical reasons and given my status as Aniyunyanne leader, not to mention the assassination attempt, it is obvious that radical movements are more likely to form among the Dagvans than elsewhere, right ?"

"Certainly..."

Agasga finally concedes reluctantly, thinking that this is still insulting.

"Good, and don't make this happen again. Now let's move on to the next subject."

Edited by Florentia
I'm retarded. (see edit history)
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  • 4 weeks later...

The Pelican and the Raven

 

28 March 2023

Dear Parents,

I have received your last letter. My congratulations to Aunt Rini on her recovery! The front has been very quiet since last time except for some artillery fire, and still. Most of the artillery is on our side thanks to the Haru models we purchased. My luck is that I am not part of the divisions responsible for pacifying the rear of the front because the Federals are doing serious damage to them.

Good news! You may have heard about it because the nobles have been getting upset from their ivory tower. Dellague has decided to replace all the incompetent officers, appointed only for their title, with talented officers, of diverse origins, full of ideas and above all whose doctrines are not from the last century. Many of the new high dignitaries come from foreign schools. As for our own little dignitary, the whole group had a good laugh when we saw Sergeant Lavoin's reaction when he was fired. It is one of the corporals who took his place, a guy called Novelle who I hardly know but who respects us, unlike his predecessor. One can say a lot of things about this Dellague, that he is authoritarian, corrupt, mafioso, etc., but at least he has some common sense. I am hopeful that we can finally move forward.

Despite the difficult situation, morale is rising a little. My friend Alphonse managed to make a banjo out of nylon threads, a rifle frame, a wooden barrel and a piece of tent material. I helped him but he did most of the work. He tried to play me some tunes from his home but the banjo sounds random sometimes. It's a bit like a beginner on booze trying to play, so we have a good laugh. I sometimes accompany him on vocals, which softens the dissonance of the banjo, and we're pretty happy with the result. Our corporal calls us "Banjo'n'Banji". I'm Banji.

Take care of yourselves. Love to you, Rini and Yogi.

See you soon,
Daiki

 

Scene 11,
Free Cashari Federation,
Libreville, Federal capital city,
01/04/2023, 19h00

Since the assassination attempt on Tsula Passereaux, the President of the Federation, her mental state has only worsened. While Tsula has always been slightly suspicious of other tribes, her pan-Cashari nationalism and desire for revenge against the white man has masked this. Unfortunately, this optimism was violently chased away by the attempt of the Dagvan nationalists. From then on, Tsula became more unstable every day.

Firing his ministers one by one, Tsula replaced them with loyal supporters of her faction. Regarding the national militia and the federal army, the rivalry between the two organisations is growing as funds formerly allocated to the army are redirected to the national militia. Indeed, the national militia, Tsula's beastly watchdog, is much more extreme than the army. Whereas before the militia was only a support to the professionals, it now carries as much weight. This new situation leads, of course, to fierce opposition from the Woya Genève faction as well as from Tsula's more moderate supporters. Unfortunately for them, the President has a plan.

On the balcony of the Presidential Palace, in front of a dense crowd, the President is broadcast live on television and radio. After a short breath, she begins her speech :

"Casharis, as you know, we are at war. But not only against the enemies outside, the Lysians, but also at war with the enemies inside. Therefore, in order to guarantee national security and to protect the future of our people, I declare full powers, in accordance with the Federal Cashari Constitution. From now on, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Ministry of Defence are directly under my jurisdiction, without the intermediary of a minister. All means of production that can be used for the war effort are from now on nationalised and the owners will not receive any compensation, except the pride of having served their country. These properties will be managed directly by the Ministry of Industry and Agriculture.

In order to ensure the political cohesion of the government and parliament, I announce the creation of the Revolutionary Tribal Action. Its objectives are to ensure the future of the revolution, equality between the tribes, the safeguarding of our traditions and the end of the white man's rule on our island. In addition, a new unit of the national militia, called the Red Moon Division, will be responsible for protecting the party and eliminating any anti-Cashari or anti-revolutionary activity within our borders.

Long live the national revolution. Long live the federation."

A new era of burning revolutionnary ideals, of nationalism, socialism and tradition, shall "shine" on the Cashari Island. From now on, the days of democracy in the Federation are counted, as the days of Woya Genève herself. The Red Moon is hungry. The hunt has begun.

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  • 3 weeks later...

The Pelican and the Raven

 

Scene 12,
Free Cashari Federation,
Libreville, Federal capital city,
02/04/2023, 13h45

Marshal Donti, head of the Federal Land Army, is sitting in a chair outside the doors of Madame President's office. Looking regularly at her watch, she is clearly impatient, and holds a partially crumpled sheet of paper in her right hand. Footsteps echoed in the corridor and Donti saw the President at last! The Marshall calls out to the President:

" - Madam President, I received your memo this morning. I've been trying to reach you for over an hour."

Tsula opens the door to her office, followed by Donti. She sits down in her armchair and points to one of the chairs.

" - Please hurry.

- I was saying that it's about your instructions, specifically those for the Red Moon division. I understand the need to have a political police force to ensure the stability of the regime, but the methods are...

- They are?

- Bloody. You even order", Donti points to the paper in her hands, "the execution of opponents and their families, even though they are innocent. And to make their bodies disappear.

- So what?" asks Tsula, tapping the desk compulsively and repeatedly with her right index finger, a sign that she is becoming increasingly impatient.

" - Perhaps we can imprison them instead? Or at least spare their families. We don't need to be so cruel.

- Did I ask your opinion?" The tapping intensifies.

" - I'm giving it to you. When you redirected half the army's funds to the National Militia, even though it is made up of incompetent and corrupt officers, I only let you do it because I am loyal to you, even silencing the few voices rising up against you in the army. But I can't turn a blind eye this time. I refuse to let the militia carry out these instructions.

- So what are you going to do? You're going to reduce yourselves to the same level as Woya and her clique, and stage a mutiny against me?" The index finger taps the desk so hard and fast that it feels as if it could pierce the furniture.

" - No, of course not. But you must understand my point of view, Madam President. Your orders are against the values of the Federation.

- I AM THE FEDERATION !" screams Tsula with rage as she rises abruptly from her chair, resisting the urge to jump at Donti's throat. Donti almost falls out of her seat in fright. You can see the fear and incomprehension in her eyes at the behaviour of the woman she once admired. A long silence passes. Tsula calms down and, looking sorry, resumes :

" - I apologise. The situation is very stressful for me. It is for all of us. I agree to reconsider these instructions. A new note will be sent to you soon. You can leave now.

- Thank you, Madam. Yes Madam," nodded Donti, reassured that, despite Tsula's brief outburst, she had finally come to her senses and refrained from committing butchery. She stands up, bows and left the office. Tsula waits for a full minute, motionless, until the Marshal has left. Then she reaches for her landline telephone and dials her secretary's number.

" - Send for General Belladone. "

Ten minutes later, a young woman walks through the door frame. She is wearing a military uniform with a camouflage pattern, and a red beret with a badge pinned on it: a crescent moon, the symbol of the Red Moon division. The girl is young, probably barely 30, maybe 25. A shapeless birthmark covers her left cheek, a distinctive sign. The young woman's name is Inola Belladone, the General in charge of the entire Red Moon Division.

" - Come in, Inola," orders Tsula. Inola obediently complies.

" - Donti is beginning to show disloyalty. She's refusing my orders. At this very moment, she's probably already assembling the High Command to overthrow me. I can no longer trust the federal army. On the other hand, I know that the militia will remain loyal to me, and especially you.

- Indeed, Madame. My team, and I even more so, are ready to sacrifice ourselves for you", replies the General, stars in her eyes and fanatical determination in her voice.

" - Good. I want you to take out the entire Federal Army High Command. Without exception. Even more if necessary. I want the army to be completely disorganised. It's the only way to ensure my safety, even if it means endangering the front line.

- Very well, Madame. I will carry out my mission with zeal and efficiency.

- Very well, then.

- As far as the front is concerned, I think the rest of the militia should be able to hold it together. The Lysian race is incompetent and cowardly, they don't have the bravery of the Casharis, and even less the loyalty of the militia. You can count on your loyal servants of the nation, Madam President.

- Good," replied Tsula, as if talking to a dog to reward it for being obedient and well-behaved. Inola smiles back, happy that her beloved President, heroine of the nation and paragon of virtue, is satisfied.

" - The majority of army funds will be redirected to the militia. The soldiers most loyal to the regime will be integrated into the militia, while the others will remain in an army that is now weak, marginalised and under my control.

- Thank you, Madame.

- You can now leave."

Inola stands up and bows. She was burning with pride that Tsula had placed her trust in the militia, and more particularly in her beloved and ferocious 'Lunatics', the nickname given to the members of the Red Moon division.

 

Scene 13,
Free Cashari Federation,
Libreville, Federal capital city,
18/04/2023, 9h39

The assassination of the General Staff was a great success. Apart from a few minor officers, they all died and their bodies were burnt in a large pit in the middle of nowhere. However, the disorganisation of the army has led to enormous chaos among the Casharies troops, as the sub-officers no longer know what to do. This has allowed the Florentian forces to make considerable progress into Cashari territory. The force putting the most effort into the breakthrough is the Orange Blossom Legion, the militia of the state of Narizonia. Since the state has been ruled by the Free Lysian Action, a white supremacist party, the party's militia has dictated the law. The Orange Blossom Legion recruits from among the criminals and social outcasts in order to have militiamen with no remorse. They obey the party's dictates, and in return the party lets them "have their fun", committing the worst abuses, generally targeting minorities and immigrants.

In Libreville, the fighting is terrible. Little by little, the local forces retreated while the Narizonian militia gradually took control of its former capital. In the early hours of 18 April, the local population attempted to revolt against the invaders. Unfortunately, their hopes were quickly dashed by the brutality of the militia. Worse still, some of the militiamen were killed in the process, and their vengeance will be terrible.

Mad with rage, under the orders of their leader, the Narizonians embarked on a terrible hunt. The Casharis were shot in chains, their bodies at best falling into a pit, at worst rotting in the streets. Men, women, children, elderly... no one is spared. The infernal pace is almost dizzying. And the further the troops advance into the city, the more victims there are, like a wave of hatred and violence ravaging everything in its path.

Faced with the massacre, the local forces decided to capitulate in the hope that this would calm the Narizonians. The militia pretended to accept, but as soon as the Casharie forces had left, the violence resumed. This vile process continued until Monday 24 April, when the militiamen realised that the town's soil was so soaked with blood that it could no longer absorb it. They were forced to stop in spite of themselves. The "feast" was over. The death toll is estimated at between 80,000 and 100,000, a quarter of the city's population.

What about the Imperial Army? Did they not react? It didn't learn of the event until it was too late and even refused to intervene at first, incredulous at the horror and methodism of the act. However, faced with a fait accompli, it could no longer deny the truth. An entire detachment was sent to Libreville. Despite their zeal, the militiamen simply could not stand up to the Imperial Army, which was both more numerous and better equipped. As the army headed towards Giol, the provisional capital of Narizonia, the confederal government sent an ultimatum to the Narizonian supremacists. They have 24 hours to resign, or the army will force them to do so. In disgrace and without their beloved militia, the party is forced to accept the terms.

In the days that followed, a coalition of democratic parties organised a provisional government to reinstate democracy in Narizonia. Despite the atrocities, the pain and the tears, equality finally appeared and hope was on the horizon.

 

Scene 14,
Confederate States of Florentia,
Montcharmin, Confederal capital city,
29/04/2023, 15h00

Faced with these events, the Confederal government was forced to speak out. Just ten hours after the surrender of the supremacist government, Lysandre organised a televised address not only to Florentians but also to foreign countries.

"Florentians,
The events are still fresh and painful, but we cannot hide the truth from you for the sake of honesty. Between Tuesday 18 and Monday 24 April, the Orange Blossom Legion, a militia of the Action Lysienne Libre party, organised a genocidal mass murder of the Casharis of Libreville, killing almost 100,000 people.

The Imperial Army and the Confederal Senate decided to intervene. The Legion was disbanded and the Narizonian government was forced to resign. We are now in the process of drawing up a new constitution for Narizonia, one that is truly democratic.

This tragic event will not be forgotten, and a monument to the victims will be raised as soon as the war is over. It will serve as a daily reminder of how dangerous, toxic and even heretical racism is, because it establishes that people are not equal, whereas we are all equal before the Lord.

This has reinforced my belief that Florentia is hungry for change. I am announcing, not only to you, my fellow Florentians, but also to the whole wurld, that Florentia will be free of all forms of slavery by the year 2024. The era of suffering has lasted long enough.

Long live the Empire. Long live Florentia."

Edited by Florentia
I'm retarded. (see edit history)
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  • 4 weeks later...

The Pelican and the Raven

 

Scene 15,
Free Cashari Federation,
Near the Florentian border,
04/05/2023, 23h48

Ever since the infamous "April Memo", the nickname given to the order to purge the federal army and the political opposition, Woya Genève has been living as a fugitive. As soon as she learned of the order, her first instinct was to protect her family. At the cost of some jewellery, she paid a smuggler so that her family could take refuge in Saint-Isidore, a slavery-free Florentian state.

As for Woya and her supporters, the initial plan was to remain in the Federation in order to resist Tsula Passereaux's dictatorship. However, the tenacity of the "lunatics" gave them no respite and many were captured. As a result, Woya is forced to flee again and again, unable to plan anything for the long term. Tsula seems particularly impatient to find her. The two women have long had a burning rivalry. Everything pits them against each other. Firstly, Tsula is a member of the Aniyunya tribe, while Woya is a member of the Dagvan tribe. Rival tribes since long before the arrival of settlers, tensions were exacerbated when the Dagvans, originally from the east coast of Florentia, were partially deported to the wild north-west (corresponding to Narizonia), the Aniyunyans' homeland. In addition, before the revolution, Tsula toiled in the Narizon cotton fields, to the rhythm of whippings and lamenting songs, while Woya was part of the Cashari intelligentsia made up of freedmen and lived in the good graces of the Coayard government (the only Florentian state not intolerant of socialism). This largely explains their opposing views: Woya wants peaceful cohabitation with the Lysians, and Tsula wants to avenge the suffering of the Casharis.

On this balmy May night, a horse crosses the northern hills. Following a little-used railway line, Woya rides towards the plateau of Saint-Isidore, guided by the stars. Just as she caught sight of the lights of the St Isidore army camp, the Cashari dismounted. She urges him to leave, then lights a distress flare, alerting the Florentian soldiers, before kneeling on the ground, her hands resting on the back of her neck. Thinking at first that this was an elaborate trap set by the Casharie army, the Saint-Isidorians illuminate the area with a searchlight. But all they find is a thin woman in civilian clothes. A dozen soldiers approach. One of them, probably an officer, orders her:

“Identify yourself.

- I am Woya Genève. I'm fleeing the dictatorship of Tsula Passereaux and seeking political asylum in Saint-Isidore. You can check my satchel for my papers.”

A soldier comes up, brutally grabs the small bag and empties it onto the ground. Various objects fall out, including an identity card. The officer picks it up and examines it.

“- We'll have to get it authenticated by an expert, but it looks all right to me. Corporal Humbert, take this lady to the camp cell. I'll let the Staff know straight away.”

 

Meanwhile in Florentia…

 

Scene 16,
Confederate states of Florentia,
Belleville, certainly not a mafia city,
05/05/2023, 00h03

A clear, cloudless moon watches over Belleville, the Florentian metropolis. On the docks, the few street lamps that are not yet defective fade away, plunging the scene into a darkness barely attenuated by the moonlight. Lazy waves crash against the sides of huge steam freighters, creating an unreal metallic symphony.

A van waits patiently in the shadows. A sink is painted on each side of the vehicle, with the inscription "Jean-Marc & Cie: débouche tes canalisations, vidange ta fosse septique" ("Jean-Marc & Co: unblock your drains, empty your septic tank"). Inside, two men. In the passenger seat, a shy, reserved young man called Lancelot Dellague. Behind the wheel, a silly, slightly older man called Hugo 'Lys' Dellague. As their names suggest, they are brothers. The car radio is on and playing "Playboy sans merci", a rock'n'roll song by the group Les Cartes A Jouer. Hugo hums the tune.

“- Lys, could you turn the radio off, please? We're supposed to be discreet.

- Shhh. That's the best part.

- But-.

- SHHH," Hugo cuts in before starting to sing: " Y’aura vingt minutes de baisers, et là vous hurlerez ‘Encore !’. Encore ! Y’aura vingt minutes aguicheuses, et vingt minutes de caresses et vingt minutes à faire voler mon haut. Haut, haut, haut.

- You're going to get us spotted.

- Si votre homme se comporte en vrai salaud, venez voir Dom Juan. J’les culbute, ramone, toute la nuit. J’suis un playboy sans merci, ouais ouais ouais. NOOO !"

Hugo yells when his brother finally turns off the radio.

"- You're completely unmanageable.

- I swear I'm doing my best.

- Stop swearing.

- I swear I'm-.

- STOP," Lancelot snaps. "You're doing it on purpose, just to annoy me.

- Indeed," replied Hugo teasingly.

"- Daddy always said you shouldn't swear. It's bad.

- Oh sure, sure, you're so cute," says the eldest, patting his brother on the head with a big, mocking, slightly condescending smile.

Muffled footsteps make their way towards the two brothers, until a shadow knocks discreetly on the side of the van. Lancelot stands still, reaching for his gun, while Hugo smiles. The shadow whispered:

"- Are you here to repair the plumbing at the Hôtel Lanahabourg?

- Just like last January. It's an order from the owner.

- Mrs Maude Pace?

- She called us yesterday lunchtime, Jojo told us.

- It was about time, the kitchens were becoming impractical.

Hugo turns to Lancelot and nods. The code is correct. He gets out of the van and discovers a short, burly man with a rifle.

"- Hugo!

- Thomas!" exclaim the two men before giving each other a double peck on the cheek. Hugo tries a third kiss but Thomas stops him.

"- That's right. I forgot that you only kiss twice in Javiosie.

- You never get used to it after all this time! hahahah. What brings you back? I thought you were Chancellor now.

- Yeah, but you know my taste for action. Even when I started delegating, I always got my hands dirty.

- I thought to myself!

- Come here, I'll show you the goods. Lancelot," he calls, turning to his brother, "turn on the rear lights.

Lancelot does so. Hugo goes to the back of the lorry and opens the doors, revealing whole crates of alcohol.

"- Magnificent," exclaimed Thomas. "Bottled gold.

- From Ocralian wine to our good old national bourbon, via Baltican limoncello and Garindinian vodka. It's at times like these that I thank the BFG*.

- By the way, thank you for taking the pressure off.

- It's only natural.

- The confederates were about to bring down Chez Georgette, the music hall on Boulevard Saint-Clair. The worst thing is that we would probably have been the next victims, at Les Jolies Bergères. Thanks to you, we can breathe again.

- It's the least I can do! You can go back to Yvonne and tell her that she'll never have the BCI** on her back again. The same goes for the other cabarets, by the way. However, I'd like you to do me a favour.

- Name it.

- I need you to terrorise a few opponents in Belleville. Some noblemen, some liberals who are a bit too noisy.

- How can I do that?

- You can put an alligator head in their bed.

- It's a bit cliché.

- Cliché is romantic. So is crime.

- If you say so.

- Do as you wish. Be inventive. I just want them to understand that their lives are at stake. That if they oppose me again, they'll be sleeping with the fishes. I'll send you the list shortly.

- Noted. I'll talk to Yvonne.

- It's not as if she has a choice. I have a monopoly on delivery.

- That's true... Will you help me lift?

- Of course," replies Hugo with a big smile, invigorated by his illegal activity.

(*Baltica-Florentia-Garindina : a commercial accord around alcohol and food
** Bureau Confedéral d'Investigation (Confederal Bureau of Investigation) : the Florentian secret services, known to fight alcohol smuggling since the beginning of the prohibition in a few florentian states)

 

Scene 17,
Confederate states of Florentia,
Montcharmin, capital city of Florentia,
06/05/2023, 17h12

Sitting on a chair in the middle of his office, Hugo Dellague plays his musical saw. His mother taught him this unusual art when he was younger. He has always shown himself to be very talented. This time it's a jazz tune, to which he hums lovingly, to his beloved saw nicknamed 'Scicie':

"O dearie Scicie,
All long accompanying me
You're sweeter than treats,
And never addressed me a threat

I love you
Forever with you

O dearie Scicie,
You travelled hand in hand with me
Hundreds of adventures
And landscapes we saw together

I love you
Forever with you

O dearie Scicie,
I wouldn't be here without you
My rivals fall under your teeth
And with fear they see you

I love you
Forever with you

O dearie Scicie,
You sawed so much boddies for me
Your steel is tainted red,
Romantic as a sublime rose

I love you
Forever with you
I'll die with you.

- Sir?" interrupts a man knocking on the door.

"Come in," replied Hugo, drying the first inkling of a tear, moved by this moment of intimacy between himself and his instrument. Vincent Vicécrou opens the door and sees the Chancellor placing the saw and bow against the desk. Vincent is an old man, the grandson of a veteran of the Tusisian War of Independence. Although politically independent, he has long supported Dellague, seeing him as the equivalent of an enlightened despot. Since the army reforms, General Vicécrou has been appointed Minister of War. The Minister steps forward, shakes hands with the Chancellor and, pointing to the instrument, says:

"I hear it's surprisingly popular where you come from".

- In Bayave? Let's just say that it's not as incongruous as elsewhere. According to a local legend, it was the Lysian colonists who discovered the musical properties of saws while cutting wood to build the foundations of Port-Rouge. However, I assume you're not here to talk about music.

- Indeed," replies Vincent with an amused smile, having obviously not heard the lyrics but only the gentle melody. "We captured some Cashari political refugees. Passereaux started hunting down its political opponents, so several hundred Casharis were arrested at the border, including Woya Genève and her clique.

- The socialist?

- The socialist," confirms Vincent.

"It takes all kinds to make a wurld. I appreciate her thinking.

- I don't hate her.

- Bring her back here to Montcharmin. I'll welcome her like a Queen: she'll be very useful in destabilising the Passereaux regime and filling the vacuum created by the dismantling of the Narizonian dictatorship.

- Very well", the Minister nodded. "You'll be informed as soon as the rendez-vous is scheduled," concludes Vicécrou before leaving.

Edited by Florentia (see edit history)
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  • 1 month later...

The Pelican and the Raven

 

Scene 18,

Confederate states of Florentia,

Montcharmin, capital city of Florentia,

09/05/2023, 9h59

 

Woya Genève is waiting patiently in a small office for Hugo L. "Lys" Dellague to arrive. Since her arrival, she has been treated particularly well, although under constant surveillance. For example, two guards are posted at the entrance to the room. This annoys her, but there's nothing she can do about it. 

The room is dark, largely because of the dark blue wallpaper, and the only window lets in a large ray of light dividing the cabinet in two. The interior is richly decorated and probably dates from the second half of the 19th century. Opposite her stands a gargantuan Comtoise clock big enough to kill someone. Cashari stares at the hands, impatiently waiting for her appointment, scheduled for 10am. The longer she stares at the clock, the more time seems to slow down. Every tick and tock seems to transcend time and space. At last! The seconds hand is about to go back to zero. Slowly, surely, the thin metal rod makes its way. The closer it gets to its goal, the more it seems to slow down. Suddenly, the clock struck 10, startling Woya out of her wits. The stroke of the hand is over.

The door opens, revealing Chancellor Hugo Lysandre "Lys" Dellague. He walks over to Woya and, with the expression of a seasoned gentleman and all the decorum in the wurld, greets her.

« - Good morning, Mrs Genève. I apologise for the short wait. Please call me Lys. May I call you by my first name?

- If you insist, yes.

- Pleased to meet you, Woya. Please take a seat at this table », he says, pointing to the small table in the centre of the study, with just three chairs. The room had definitely been created for private discussions. The two politicians settle down.

« - You see, Woya, we have an enemy in common. 

- Passereau?

- Yes, we do. What's more, we have goals in common: the march towards a progressive and egalitarian wurld. I'd like to help you destabilise Passereau's dictatorship and win the support of the @Casharis. This will make liberation easier for our troops. Finally, once the war is over, your hands will be free to shape Narizonia as you see fit.

- So I should give up any hope of an independent Cashari country? 

- On the contrary. I'm in the process of drawing up a new constitution myself. Florentia will no longer be a country of Lysians and Stillians dominating minorities, but a country of Lysians, Stillians, Casharis and Esonians, all equal. 

- Nevertheless, the Federation will have to return to Florentian rule.

- Of course, but you know how important Florentian national sovereignty is to me. 

- I'm willing to accept, but only if the Florentian troops don't commit butchery, rape, or vengeance. I want Cashari war criminals to be judged fairly, not lynched. I know your reputation and I don't want your methods.

- I do what I must because I can, for the good of all of us, except the ones who are dead. But there's no sense crying over every murder. You just keep on killing till you run out of rival. And the politics gets done, and you make a neat regime for the people who are still alive.

- Isn't this from a video game ? », ask Woya, deeply confused.

« - Irrelevant. But you get the idea. What's more, I don't think you can consider as human beings' people who exploit hundreds of men and women to death, whether they're slaves or proletarians. Therefore, if they are not human beings, I can execute them without remorse. The same logic applies to their supporters.

- It's an extremely dangerous logic, you know ? », asks Woya, her eyebrows furrowed and even more worried about Florentia's future. The Lysian replies with a broad smile, patting the Cashari on the shoulder.

« - I like to live dangerously. But let's get back to the main subject of this conversation.

- Please », Woya replies, resting her head in her hands, dumbfounded by Hugo.

« - Do you accept the deal ?

- I have no choice : I'm being held prisoner.

- Your cage is pretty damn golden. And, as long as you're supervised, you can get out whenever you like.

- Irrelevant.

- So what do you say?

- I accept. »

Hugo holds out his hand to Woya and the two politicians shake hands. Woya adds :

« - I would still like to send her a compromise proposal. The Federation becomes part of Florentia and democracy is restored. In exchange, she has the right to remain free and her party can still exist.

- It's madness. I accept, but only because I know she will refuse.

- Why would she refuse ? It's an advantageous compromise.

- Because she's fanatical, completely mad. Like me ! » he says with all the seriousness in the wurld. 

« - For the love of the Great Raven, don't make me regret our alliance.

- Excuse me. Do you still want to send your proposal?

- We can still try. 

- Very well, then. I bet ten Lys she'll burn the proposal in public.

- This is highly inappropriate. 

- Just for fun. For the joke !

- I… Oh ! Fine », says Woya, who is both exasperated and shocked by Hugo's will to bet on such serious matters.

« - It's a pleasure working with you.

- I wish I could say the same. 

- Hahaha ! I'll send you the schedule for the next meeting. Your guards will show you the way.

- Thank you, I'm used to it », she replies, bitterly, before leaving, followed by the two guards.

 

 

Scene 19,

Free Cashari Federation,

Pavek, provisional capital city,

14/05/2023, 13h42

 

Tsula Passereau stands on the balcony of the town hall, commandeered as the new seat of Cashari government. In front of her, in the square, stand over a thousand Casharis. Among the crowd, many are holding a portrait of Tsula or the federation flag.

« - Sisters and brothers of Casharis,

Two days ago, the white occupier, in collaboration with the traitorous Genève and her clique of slavers, sent us a proposal. Here it is », she says, holding up a letter. « The Lysians demand the death of the Federation. The Lysians demand the death of the Casharis. This is what I do with their demands ! »

Tsula takes a lighter and burns the letter, to the cheers of the crowd.

Only, among this uniform mass, there was one skeptic. It was Degatana. Although he applauds, he is not as convinced as his comrades. And then… The death of the Federation, why not, but not the death of all Casharis. After all, that would mean no more slaves for the Florentians. What's more, the only candidates to replace the Casharis are Esonian immigrants, but this would lead to a military intervention from Esonice. Degatana has been suspicious of the President's speeches for several months now. At first, the militiaman thought Tsula was simply exaggerating the facts to galvanize the troops. But now, she's swimming in lies. Maybe the Florentians didn't even send a proposal, and she made it all up ! The thought of being manipulated sent a chill down his spine. 

« - I've got to get out of here before the situation gets worse », Degatana thought, finally resolved to desert.

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  • 3 weeks later...

The Pelican and the Raven

 

spacer.png

Scene 20,
Cashari-Florentian border,
Village of Lavoit, on the hills of Narizonia,
20/05/2023, 20h31

The village of Lavoit, once a quiet little town of 3,400 or so inhabitants, now serves as a military camp for the 4th Imperial Army, the 1st Royal Army of Rivière-de-Juillet and the 2nd Marquisate Army of Bayave. The village had been shunned by its inhabitants since the outbreak of war, so the soldiers live in the houses and the manor of the local landowner was requisitioned by the generals. 

The church square is largely shell-shattered. In the centre was a statue depicting death guiding a Florentian soldier to his grave, while the imperial pelican tried to hold the soldier back. This monument to the dead was dedicated to the villagers who never returned from the Tusisian War of Independence. Now, nothing remains of the soldier, pulverised by a shell, while the pelican lies on the ground. Only death remains intact, seemingly reaching out to the pelican to take it to its grave. As for the church, it is in surprisingly good condition. The Orthodox cross stands firm at the top. 

In the church square, a small group plays “Dans les bayous de Bayave”, a waltz composed to commemorate the butchery of Fadale. This battle, the last of the Florentian Civil War, saw the last anti-slavery troops, lurking in the Bayavian swamps, bravely resist their attackers. In the end, the pro-slavery troops managed to break through the defences and, with rare violence, massacred all the remaining anti-slavery soldiers, giving the battle the nickname of “butchery”. Despite the pro-slavery propaganda that followed, this song became extremely popular, remembered as a symbol of perseverance and courage. The small music group consists of:

  • a violinist (Louison Grégoire from the 3rd cavalry regiment of the 1st Royal Army of Rivière-de-Juillet),
  • an accordionist (Jean Perfot from the 1st infantry regiment of the 2nd Marquisate Army in Bayave),
  • a banjo player (Alphonse Haimeud, from the 2nd infantry regiment of the 4th Imperial Army),
  • and a singer (Daiki Hitake, also from the 2nd infantry regiment of the 4th Imperial Army).

Several hundred soldiers are seating around them, whistling the tune or humming the lyrics. Some of them were wounded, recovering from the last unsuccessful assault on the Casharie trenches, just a few kilometres from Lavoit.

A motorised lorry pulls out of the village onto the muddy road. Three Florentians soldiers, deserters, are locked in the vehicle, heading for Montcharmin, to be court-martialled. They will not return.

Night falls slowly and surely on the camp. The General Staff has decided that there will be an assault tomorrow at dawn, so there will be an assault tomorrow at dawn, and the little soldiers will come crashing into the Casharie trenches in the hope of breaking through.

It is now midnight. Regularly, guards go round the camp. Two soldiers, including the violinist Louison Grégoire, are stationed in the entrance. Louison regularly almost falls asleep on his rifle, but his sense of duty wakes him up every time. Suddenly, shellfire hits the camp. Louison sounds the alarm like a madman, signalling the attack, until a shell burst puts an end to his efforts. Another violinist will have to be found. A wave of Cashari soldiers emerges from the tall grass and runs to the camp, supported by artillery imported from Velaheria. 

The battle rages on. There are around 20,000 Florentian soldiers against 12,000 Casharis. Among the Casharis was Degatana Prométhée. Although he is determined to desert, he has not yet found the time. However, this assault could well be his chance. 

Daiki, who had been sleeping peacefully despite his thin blanket, is rudely awoken by the alarm. Realising the situation, he grabbed his rifle and his sabre and get out of the house just in time, because a few seconds later, a grenade through the window exploded inside the building. 

“All the Casharis want you dead. All the Casharis want you dead”, he repeats to himself without conviction, clutching in his hand the talisman supposed to protect him, given to him a few years ago by his parents. 

The battle rages on. Degatana has managed to get away from the other Casharis and is hiding behind a wall. Isolated, he looks at the horizon and imagines what these fertile lands looked like before the war. The carcasses of a few cows, their flesh not yet completely decomposed, are rotting alongside some very pretty wooden fences. A raven, perched on the fences, stares at the young man. Perhaps it has been sent by the Great Raven, creator of all things, to judge the barbarity of mankind. 

One of the reasons he's deserting is because he knows he has nothing to lose. After all, his mother died of exhaustion in a tobacco field, while his father was killed in the 1st Cashari War of Independence a few years ago. He has no brothers or sisters, and his parents never mentioned any cousins, uncles, or aunts. It was for this very reason that he joined the militia. However, even if he does manage to desert, so what ? What would he do next ? « Will I become a slave again ? » he asks himself, running his hand along his back. He still bears the marks of the whips he was given when he was 15 for stealing food. If he's going to be a slave again, he'd rather prefer to be dead ! As he contemplates suicide, the raven seems to give him a disapproving look, as if to discourage him. 

« So what should I do ? » asks Degatana. « Now I'm talking to animals. »

The militiaman exhales a deep breath before taking the barrel of the rifle to his mouth. He braces the stock against a stone to cushion the recoil, then places his two thumbs against the trigger. A few tears escape, followed by a full sob. The young man pulls himself together.

« Come on, old chap », he said to the raven. « Death isn't so bad. In a hundred years, nobody will think about it. And it will be very quick, it's just a question of aiming well. »

Degatana closes his eyes. Bang!

The Cashari opens his eyes again. His weapon lies on the ground. To his left, an Esonian in Florentian uniform holds a smoking rifle in his hands. 

« — I had to stop you. 

— Why did you stop me ? We are enemies.

— Our governments are enemies, that's different. 

— But I could kill you. I still have my axe.

— Yes, but I have my sabre and my rifle.

— Are you going to finish me off ?

— What for ? I don't like war, even less gratuitous violence.

— You should go back to your comrades. 

— I know I should. Bourbon ?

— What ?

— Bourbon, do you want some ? » he offers, holding out a flask.

« — Pass it on. Degatana takes a sip before handing it back to its owner. The latter does the same.

« — By the way, I'm Daiki.

— Degatana. »

They shake hands.

« — And you, why don't you kill me?

— I want to desert.

— By joining paradise?

— If I go back to Florentia, I'll go back to being a slave.

— Maybe you won't. I've got an idea.

— You do ?

— You'll take the uniform of a Bayavian soldier. In Bayave, slavery has been abolished, and the governor is very progressive. 

— Good idea ! »

So Degatana complies. 

« — Now you should be able to stay here as long as you're discreet. Don't tell anyone about this, or you'll be court-martialled and taken for a spy.

— But I don't want to kill my own brothers !

— Then go and help the nurses, they're short-staffed. Good luck, Degatana, and see you later.

— See you later, and thanks again ! »

The battle lasted until the early hours of the morning. This is a Florentian win, but both sides suffered heavy casualties. As the sun rises, a fine dew settles on the bodies, the rifles, the axes, and the sabres. A priest walks slowly across the now quiet battlefield, blessing the dead, while graves are dug behind the church. The assault is postponed until tomorrow morning.

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To : The mighty nations of @DPR Velaheria and @Ahrana
From : The Free Cashari Federation
Date : 22nd of May, 2023

Greetings,
On the Cashari Island, the struggle for freedom continues. The pressure exerced by the vile Florentians is more and more harsh. However, despite a few losses, we hold strong.

Since the beginning of our struggle for independance, you have always been on our side, providing us with supplies and weapons, and we are extremly thankful. But we need even more weapons to overcome the Florentian empire of evil, and we are certain that the mighty nations of Ahrana and Velaheria would be glad to help us secure our freedom.

The fate of the Cashari people is between your hands,
May the Thunderbird bless your nations.

Edited by Florentia (see edit history)
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The Pelican and the Raven

 

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Scene 21,
Confederate States of Florentia,
Tapiocazar, Republic of Narizonia,
01/06/1998, 19h32

After yet another day's hard work, the slaves finally return “home”, singing the blues. The mine lifts each vomit out around fifteen slaves every two minutes, or every one and a half minutes if the foremen whip the slaves manning the lifts. The foremen would reply, “I have nothing against them, but if they don't hurry up, I'm the one who's going to be sacked.” In fact, the foremen themselves are watched by the guards. The guards are watched by the head of security. The head of security is watched by the mine manager. And the mine manager is watched by the Narizonian government, which watches everyone.

After leaving, the slaves are chained in a line, in packs of thirty, and escorted by two armed guards to the entrance of the mine's ghetto. Numerous small wooden shacks make up the ghetto, each housing two households, and is surrounded by a high concrete wall topped with barbed wire. Each ghetto is assigned to a mine. Indeed, in the 1960s, when President Jeremiah Horlant, a white supremacist and staunch corporatist, was elected, he nationalised most of the state's “strategic economic resources”, which included the entire mining industry as well as slaves. At the entrance to each ghetto, there is the flag of Narizonia. Every slave is obliged to salute the flag when leaving or entering the ghetto, or risk being beaten with a truncheon and forced to drink ricin oil, a powerful laxative.

Night falls slowly but surely on the camp. The slaves sleep despite the hunger and the cold. After all these years, they are almost used to living in such terrible conditions. Only one of them does not sleep. She is a little girl with a proud expression who, despite her rags and her youth, burns with insatiable determination. Unable to sleep, she peers out through a crack in the wall. Two guards are making their rounds. Their heavy boots rustle the gravel. One of them lights a cigar while the other watches the barracks carefully, twirling his baton in his hand. Attached to their belts are a flask of bourbon, a sabre, and a vial of ricin oil. Above the guards, a huge sign dominates the ghetto. In the moonlight, we can read “Vive Horlant”.

— “I swear I'll take that sign down,” mutters the little girl. “May the spirits and the gods be witnesses to my promise, I swear it on my own life.”

This little girl is called Tsula Passereau.

* * *

22 years later…

“The war is over ! The revolution is triumphant ! Long live the Federation ! Vive Passereau !”

The jubilant Casharis of Tapiocazar are celebrating the announcement of the armistice. This cessation of hostilities, which the government believes will soon lead to a peace treaty, is associated with the name Tsula Passereau. It's a name that makes you dream, a name that makes you puff out your chest, and a name that fills you with unfailing gratitude to the woman who built the modern Casharie nation. Tsula Passereau has raised the Thunderbird from the ashes.

The woman already known as the “mother of the Casharis” not only defeated the slavers, but also established a social state, adapting tribal solidarity to the modern wurld. For example, since the Tapiocazar mine was managed directly by its workers, the former slaves no longer suffered the oppression of the whip, the truncheon, or ricin oil. This libertarian system has even led to an increase in production thanks to the enthusiasm of the miners.

As the city centre and working-class districts were deserted by Florentians, the Casharis took the opportunity to move there. As a result, the ghetto was also deserted and razed to the ground by the local authorities. However, makeshift accommodation had to be set up until the government builds social housing.

The Narizon flag has been burnt. The “Vive Horlant” sign suffered the same fate, although the inscription can still be read on it.

The future is looking radiant.

* * *

3 years later…

Negotiations have failed. As June begins, the war is raging again, and has been for the last six months.

The mine has been requisitioned by the Cashari government to maximise production in the name of the war effort. Many things are done in the name of the war effort.

After yet another day of hard work, the miners finally return “home”, singing the blues. The mine lifts spew out fifteen or so miners every two minutes. The war demands ever more resources, and the pace is constantly increasing. Since the increasingly paranoid Tsula Passereau took a totalitarian turn, the miners have been watched by a circuit of informers. Five groups of guards form a brigade. Within each brigade, an official supervisor is responsible for making regular reports. An unofficial secret supervisor is responsible for keeping an eye on the official supervisor. The circle is complete. At each level, if it is learned that the denunciation has not worked, the whole brigade is held responsible. So, from time to time, the brigades denounce one or two miners at random. So-called plots to bring down the “mother of Casharis” are made up. Almost every time, the people denounced are from the Dagvan tribe. Firstly, because it makes it easier for the government to buy the story. Secondly, because the guards are very often Aniyunyans, so they take advantage of the opportunity to settle old tribal quarrels. According to the government, this concentration of Aniyunyans is explained by the tribe's “warrior past”, giving it the honour of “protecting” the other tribes.

Most of Tapiocazar's downtown area is in ruins as a result of the Florentian shells. The remaining houses are reserved for local authorities and mine managers. What's more, social housing was never built, so the miners had to be rehoused. The miners now live in small wooden shacks. The area is surrounded by concrete walls topped with barbed wire. At the entrance is the Cashari flag, which the miners must salute or risk being subjected to truncheons and ricin oil. The government does not call this a ghetto. No, that word is forbidden. It must be called a “temporary residential area”.

Night falls slowly but surely on the temporary residential area. The miners sleep despite the cold and hunger. Hunger returned during the war because of rationing. Outside, two Aniyunyan guards make their rounds. Their heavy boots rustle the gravel. One of them lights a cigar while the other watches the barracks carefully, twirling his baton in his hand. Attached to their belts are a flask of bourbon, an axe, and a vial of ricin oil. Above the guards, a huge sign dominates the temporary residential area. In the moonlight, we can read “Vive Passereau”.

Edited by Florentia (see edit history)
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  • 2 weeks later...

The Pelican and the Raven

 

Scene 22,
Free Cashari Federation,
Cashari National Airport,
10/06/2023,

As the Federation has no access to the sea, all shipments of equipment from Ahrana and Velaheria have been sent by air. So if the Federation no longer has access to its airport, it can no longer receive equipment, can it? That was the reasoning of the General Staff when they heard of the Federation's request for aid.

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The operation was slower than expected due to resistance from the Casharie National Militia. However, the civilians, tired of this Federation that is free in name only, are surprisingly docile. They just want the war to end.

The new tanks, imported from Velaheria, have been a tough obstacle for the Florentians. Unfortunately, the already meagre fuel reserves could not keep up. Many tanks had to be abandoned to the Florentians. On 10 June, the airport was finally surrounded; the Casharis reinforcements, delayed by a Florentian cavalry assault, had not arrived in time. The airport forces finally surrendered in the evening and the soldiers were taken prisoner, almost two-thirds of the Casharie militia. The remaining third, completely routed, were further forced to retreat.

 

Scene 23,
Free Cashari Federation,
Pavec, Presidential Palace,
14/06/2023, 6h21

Tsula Passereau likes waking up at 6am because she can hear the birds singing. It puts her in a good mood and gives her a reason to get up again in the morning. Leaning out of her bedroom window, she looks up at the trees where pretty sparrows are perched. The President takes a deep breath, absorbing the fresh air and morning dew into her lungs. Since the bad news began to pile up, she has found it difficult to make contact with other human beings and can only tolerate the presence of animals. In particular, she spends long hours talking to birds, and as her mental health has deteriorated, she has begun to imitate them. How many times has Passereau been found naked, crouching on her windowsill? Too many.

The only person she can bear to be around is Inola Belladone, the general in charge of the Red Moon Division, the Casharie political police. Inola has always been one of Tsula's most loyal admirers. For the young woman, it is very hard to see the sunshine of her life slowly disappearing. Tsula's near-absence has left a gap in the executive, so Inola has stepped in to make the day-to-day decisions.

Someone knocks on the door.

"- I'm OCCUPIED", shouts Passereau without even turning round.

"- But it's me, President," replies a familiar voice from the other side of the door.

"- Come in. What now ?" asks Tsula, turning round. Inola faces her but doesn't dare look directly at her.

"- Speak.

- The Florentians are at the edge of the city. We haven't been able to do anything. We've got a few tanks left but we've run out of fuel.

- Are there any shells left ?

- Yes, President.

- Then prepare the artillery. If I have to die, I'll die standing up.

- In the meantime, we think it would be wiser for us to take refuge in the underground bunker.

- But I won't be able to hear the birds. I want to hear the birds.

- That's precisely the point! We've captured a sparrow for you. He's very happy in his cage.

- Will I be happy in my cage too?

- You don't have to worry. We've got everything under control. We can still win the war.

- Pff...", Tsula replies, resigned. Inola takes her by the arm and guides her towards the door.

 

Scene 24,
Free Cashari Federation,
Pavec, Presidential Bunker,

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The Pelican and the Raven

Scene 25,
Confederate States of Florentia
Pavec, Provisional Government of Narizonia,
02/06/2023, 19h32

On the evening of the Federation's surrender, Chancellor Hugo L. Dellague rushed to Pavec to see for himself the extent of the damage, but also to ensure the support of the local population.

The Chancellor's arrival was surprisingly positive. In fact, the repressive nature of Passereau's regime, Dellague's reputation as a fervent abolitionist and the ethnic representativeness of the provisional Narizonian government have all contributed greatly to changing the way most Casharis view the Florentian state. That is, with hope, and no longer as the eternal oppressor of the Cashari people.

A microphone is quickly set up on the balcony of the town hall of Pavec, while the crowd - a majority of Casharis, including a few militiamen, as well as a handful of Florentians - stands still, impatiently awaiting the speech. Hugo L. Dellague enters the balcony, waving to the crowd with both arms in the air.

"- Florentiens,
C’est par ce nom que je m’adresse non seulement aux Lysiens et aux Stilliens, mais aussi aux Casharis et aux Esoniens. (Applaudissements.) Le peuple Florentien est un composé. (Applaudissements.) C’est mieux qu’une race. C’est une nation. (Applaudissements prolongés.) Une nation énergique, vibrante, puissante. (Applaudissements.)

Alors que je contemple le peuple Florentien au lendemain de cette guerre fratricide, il me vient un cri salvateur : je vous ai compris ! (Applaudissements prolongés.)

Je sais ce qu’il s’est passé ici. (Applaudissements.) Je vois ce que vous avez voulu faire. Je vois que le chemin que vous avez ouvert en Florentie, c’est celui de la liberté, de l’égalité et de la fraternité ! (Applaudissements.) Je sais aussi comment ce chemin a été usurpé par la dictatrice Passereau et sa clique, se rabaissant au même niveau que les esclavagistes Lysiens dont certains parmi vous venaient à peine de s'affranchir.

Il m’incombe d’emprunter ce chemin. (Applaudissements.) Soyez-en témoins en ce jour. Au nom de l’Empire, je déclare que dans toute la Florentie, il n’y a qu’une seule catégorie d’habitants : les Florentiens (applaudissements prolongés), encore les Florentiens, toujours les Florentiens, égaux et libres devant la loi, vivant main dans la main. (Applaudissements.)

Ce chemin a vu ses balbutiements à Belleville, terre de libéralisme et premier Etat ayant abolit l’esclavagisme. Ce chemin voit en ce moment même sa forme intégrale dans le cabinet du gouvernement provisoire narizonien, qui est en train de rédiger une constitution garantissant une égalité totale, peu importe la race, en Narizonie. (Applaudissements.) Ce chemin verra son aboutissement lorsque la Florentie sera libre de toute forme de discrimination. (Applaudissements prolongés.)

Voilà le chemin de la Florentie. (Applaudissements.) Oui, moi, Dellague, je guiderais la Florentie sur le chemin de la réconciliation et du progrès. (Applaudissements prolongés.)

Vive l’Empire !

Vive la Florentie !"

 

( Translated version : )

"- Florentians,
It is by this name that I address not only the Lysians and the Stillians, but also the Casharis and the Esonians. (Applause.) The Florentian people is a compound. (Applause.) It is more than a race. It is a nation. (Prolonged applause.) An energetic, vibrant, powerful nation. (Applause.)

As I contemplate the Florentian people in the aftermath of this fratricidal war, a salutary cry comes to me: I have understood you! (Prolonged applause.)

I know what happened here. (Applause.) I see what you wanted to do. I can see that the path you have opened up in Florentia is one of freedom, equality and fraternity! (Applause.) I also know how this path was usurped by the dictator Passereau and her clique, lowering themselves to the same level as the Lysian slavers, some of whom you had only just freed yourselves from.

It is my responsability to take this path. (Applause.) Witness this day. In the name of the Empire, I declare that in the whole of Florentia, there is only one category of inhabitants : Florentians (prolonged applause), Florentians again,  Florentians always, equal and free before the law, living hand in hand. (Applause.)

This path saw its first steps in Belleville, a land of liberalism and the first State to abolish slavery. This path is now taking full shape in the cabinet of the provisional Narizonian government, which is drafting a constitution guaranteeing total equality, regardless of race, in Narizonia. (Applause.) This path will be fulfilled when Florentia will be free of all forms of discrimination. (Prolonged applause.)

This is the path of Florentia. (Applause.) Yes, I, Dellague, will guide Florentia on the path of reconciliation and progress. (Prolonged applause.)

Long live the Empire !

Long live Florentia !"

The crowd cheers Hugo L. Dellague fervently, repeating "Long live the Empire! Long live Florentia!" in chorus. The Chancellor salutes his audience one last time before entering the building.

 

The new constitution, as promised by Dellague and the provisional government, guarantees the right to vote for all Narizonian citizens, regardless of race or gender. On 20 June 2023, it was adopted by 86% of the votes: the Narizonian Republic was born. Elections were held as quickly as possible :

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Out of 168 seats, the Progressive Party won 114 seats, 33 for Social Action and 21 for the Tribal Socialist Revolutionary Party.

The Progressive Party is socially liberal and economically socialist. Guided by Woya Genève, it draws much of its inspiration from the Avouélos economic system. Social Action is moderately conservative and in favour of an agrarian economy. Finally, the Tribal Socialist Party of the Revolution, led by a former Federation militiaman, is directly inspired by the ideas of Tsula Passereau: social conservatism, Cashari pan-nationalism and an economic system inspired by Velaheran dirigisme. It is particularly popular with the Aniyunya tribe, which enjoyed a privileged status in the Federation.

With the Progressive Party holding a large majority, Woya Genève was named President of Narizonia on 30 August 2023. It was the first time in the history of Florentia that a Cashari governor had been elected.

The Pelican and the Raven, tired of fighting, sat down next to each other, exchanged a cigar and a bourbon flask, and finally reconciled.

 

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Edited by Florentia (see edit history)
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