Bergenheim
Establishing Nation
Bockenthule Estate, West of Midweis, August 2018
The skies were a cornflower blue, hot sun baking the rolling, lush fields that surrounded the rural estate and its roccoco architecture. This conference would be far from the city, and, hopefully, the distractions of the rabble and the pleasures of the metropolis.
The Estate itself was an old favourite for Bergener politicians, long used for political conferences and discussions, before the preference for modern conference centres took hold. Bockenthule had been owned by one of the last Archchancellors before the Darkenseele War, and he and his family had been among the first to be guillotined for it.
The Republican guard, in full, ceremonial 19th century uniform, held silent vigil over the palatial grounds, watching as helicopters and armoured limousines arrived, baring with them the usual dignitaries, and the representatives of the nations who would be attending.
Once again, Trivodnia's representation would be minimal, but curiously every major CBS political figure available had been invited. the Communists, the nationalists, the Farragoists, the Monarchists, the Democrats...any and all factions had been very conspicuously given places of honour opposite one another in the grand dining chamber.
A cynical mind might wonder at such a move.
The General was not here, and nor was the Archchancellor, for the time being at anyrate. Vice-Chancellor Kessler stood, bored and idle in the lobby, while the immaculately attired Angela prepared for her third big conference in seven months.
She had been -so- close to getting laid in Cathay, with a very handsome billionaire as well. But the needs of the State had pulled her away from a satisfying seduction, and underneath her warm smiles and bubbly demeanour was a burning, unsatisifed need. If anyone with half a good looking face seemed willing, by the Gods she'd find a closet to work off some stress in.
Time would tell if this Conference would succeed or fail the way the previous one had.
But at least this time its Agenda was clearly stated, and even listed on plaques around the place.
1. Unity in trying to restore peace to Crotobaltislavonia.
2. Condemnation of the use of WMD by Serenierre.
3. Agreement over Intended Influence in the Post-War East.
4. Cross-Border Refugee/Asylum Seeker support and co-ordination.
The skies were a cornflower blue, hot sun baking the rolling, lush fields that surrounded the rural estate and its roccoco architecture. This conference would be far from the city, and, hopefully, the distractions of the rabble and the pleasures of the metropolis.
The Estate itself was an old favourite for Bergener politicians, long used for political conferences and discussions, before the preference for modern conference centres took hold. Bockenthule had been owned by one of the last Archchancellors before the Darkenseele War, and he and his family had been among the first to be guillotined for it.
The Republican guard, in full, ceremonial 19th century uniform, held silent vigil over the palatial grounds, watching as helicopters and armoured limousines arrived, baring with them the usual dignitaries, and the representatives of the nations who would be attending.
Once again, Trivodnia's representation would be minimal, but curiously every major CBS political figure available had been invited. the Communists, the nationalists, the Farragoists, the Monarchists, the Democrats...any and all factions had been very conspicuously given places of honour opposite one another in the grand dining chamber.
A cynical mind might wonder at such a move.
The General was not here, and nor was the Archchancellor, for the time being at anyrate. Vice-Chancellor Kessler stood, bored and idle in the lobby, while the immaculately attired Angela prepared for her third big conference in seven months.
She had been -so- close to getting laid in Cathay, with a very handsome billionaire as well. But the needs of the State had pulled her away from a satisfying seduction, and underneath her warm smiles and bubbly demeanour was a burning, unsatisifed need. If anyone with half a good looking face seemed willing, by the Gods she'd find a closet to work off some stress in.
Time would tell if this Conference would succeed or fail the way the previous one had.
But at least this time its Agenda was clearly stated, and even listed on plaques around the place.
1. Unity in trying to restore peace to Crotobaltislavonia.
2. Condemnation of the use of WMD by Serenierre.
3. Agreement over Intended Influence in the Post-War East.
4. Cross-Border Refugee/Asylum Seeker support and co-ordination.