WA Delegate (non-executive): The Vahric Empire of Vanhania (elected )
Founder: The Xurran City of Fraserstone
Tags: Enormous, Map, Fascist, Regional Government, National Sovereigntist, Future Tech, Independent, Outer Space, Capitalist, Democratic, Role Player, Multi-Species, and 6 others.Socialist, Post-Modern Tech, Neutral, Communist, Offsite Forums, and Modern Tech.
Regional Power: High
Today's World Census Report
The Most Popular Tourist Destinations in The Coalition of Governments
World Census experts tracked millions of international tourists in order to determine the world's favourite nations to sight-see.
As a region, The Coalition of Governments is ranked 6,249th in the world for Most Popular Tourist Destinations.
|1.||The Unified Federal Republic of Ruzalka||Inoffensive Centrist Democracy||“Order, Justice And Security, By Any Means Necessary.”|
|2.||The Democratic Republic of Zyrr||Left-Leaning College State||“Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité”|
|3.||The Vahric Empire of Vanhania||Civil Rights Lovefest||“For the strength of every child of the Crimson Dawn”|
|4.||The Dictatorship of Zengren||Scandinavian Liberal Paradise||“One in a Million”|
|5.||The Holy Republic of Gandhiana||Psychotic Dictatorship||“For great justice, peace and freedom”|
|6.||The United People's Republics of Kraslavia||Left-wing Utopia||“Zyvie Revoluchija!”|
|7.||The Great Victorian Paradise of Alanis Star||Father Knows Best State||“Once a human like you. Now I'm an immortal Android.”|
|8.||The Rikúr of Felkesjud||Liberal Democratic Socialists||“For the Glory and Strength of Felkesjud!”|
|9.||The Kingdom of New Mistral||Civil Rights Lovefest||“For the power and beauty of the light! Hear us roar!”|
|10.||The Place-less incarnation of Kisyri||New York Times Democracy||“ ”|
- : Shainin ceased to exist.
- : Spiritualiza ceased to exist.
- : The Dictatorship of Armailteach arrived from The Pacific.
- : The Free Land of Free Sheba arrived from The East Pacific.
- : The Free Land of Minarchismusland departed this region for Sunalaya.
- : The Free Land of Minarchismusland arrived from The Black Hawks.
- : The Free Land of Minarchismusland departed this region for The Black Hawks.
- : The Free Land of Minarchismusland arrived from Austritaria.
- : The Confederacy of Free Castieta departed this region for The East Pacific.
- : The Confederacy of Free Castieta arrived from The East Pacific.
The Coalition of Governments Regional Message Board
NIGGA YOU HELPED GANG UP ON A SCIENTOLOGIST.
beep beep niqqa
My point is that this was the only PMT RP region I could find. Without this place, I might as well think of PMT as extinct.
The Pendulum Swings
Valaren West Coast. Loanapour City.
If there ever were to be a true wretched hive of scum and villainy where the gods themselves averted their eyes out of embarrassment and shame one needed to look no further. The port town of Loanapour had been birthed from quick investments and short term promises. Once dreamt of to be the crowning jewel during the expansion of the old empire. But then the heavy pendulum of economic prosperity turned as the government halted its colonisation efforts. And when the flow of unlimited tax money run dry so did the coffers of those invested. Soon thereafter came the war and in its feeble attempts to rebuild what it once had had the new government couldn’t spare the resources nor the energy to lay its benevolent hand upon Loanapour once again. So the city remained. Untouched by law and controlled by those that dared build their lives upon a warm mountain of vermin carcases.
“What the... Sir, I think you want to see this.” said the driver with a voice filled of uncertainty.
Caiules Mabades raised an eyebrow from where he sat comfortably tucked away in the luxurious back of the car. The driver had slowed the vehicle down to a crawl and Caiules leaned forward to see out of the front window that separated him from the front seat.
On the hillside leading away from the city he could see numerous vehicles and people standing around. The road had been blocked by concrete K-rail and men in white stood lined up across it.
“By the gods, what’s the bloody feds doing here?” Caiules hissed through gritted teeth.
The car drove up to the roadblock and Caiules jumped out. His suit flapping around as it was grabbed by the wind and his greased hair stood up. Feeling his hairstyle being undone he gritted his teeth and tried to save it with one hand. Men in white uniforms and with automatic rifles strapped across their shoulders had turned their attention to the newcomer and his car.
“What’s this supposed to mean!?” Caiules shouted inquisitively as he walked up to the front row of men blocking their way.
A white clad officer walked up to Caiules. The man's face a detached mask of indifference and boredom. “The city have been placed under quarantine, Sir.” the man said.
Caiules stared back at him in disbelief. “Quarantine?” he repeated. “By all the gods what’s that supposed to mean!?”
“Sir, I’d advise you to stay calm. The city is under quarantine, no one is allowed to enter or leave.”
Caiuls was stunned. His mind tried to wrap itself around what he was hearing but then he noticed. The man in front of him may looked bored to death but the others. The men around them stood relaxed with gleeful almost mocking smiles on their lips. “Can you hear yourself!?” he shouted. “There’s 20,000 people in that city, you can’t just waltz out here and pull some horsesh!t about some quarantine. Do you know who I am? Well do you? I’m Caiules Mabades.”
“Sir, If...” the FCW officer began but Caiules eye were fixed on a point behind the man. Walking up from the rear of the blockade were two men in grey coats and with shoulder emblems depicting the red Valaren Flame behind a broken sword. Oh, Sh!t… Greyrats... Caiules thought as his mind grinded to a halt.
“Is there a problem here?” asked one of the men in grey.
“No problem at all.” Caiules hurriedly replied with a forced smile. “I was only inquiring here as to why my lovely town seems to have been set under some kind of quarantine.”
The man in grey glanced over at the officer who simply rolled his eyes before he turned his attention back to Caiules. “Sir, I don’t want you to panic or in any other way get riled up over this. But we’re here to enforce a declaration by the Institute for Communicable Disease Control. They have reason to believe that there exist a situation within the city and we have therefore been forced to quarantine until we can make sure that the situation is under control.”
The man had said it all with a straight face as if he had read it straight from the morning newspaper. But Caiules just knew. He couldn’t set a finger on it but he knew that he had just been feed the most stinking pile of horsesh!it in his entire life. The FCW didn’t run errands for the ICDC out in the outbacks and the stinking greyrats of the Securitate most certainly did not.
Caiules held out his hands in a disarming gesture and forced another smile. “Guess the business trip is canceled then.” He said as he took down his arms and moved to return to his car and the driver that still sat waiting for him.
“We’re sorry for the inconvenience, Sir.” the man in grey said but Caiules didn’t really hear it as a violent ringing in his ears just screamed at him to get away from the roadblock. He made a waving notion with one of his arms as a goodbye and forced himself not to rush into the car. Breathing quick and shallow breaths he entered the back of his car and closed the door behind him.
“Change of plans,” he began telling the driver. “We’re going back home to the villa. Father needs to be informed of this.”
“Yes, Sir.” the driver said and started to turn the car around. “...Sir? ...what’s the roadblock about?”
“Damned if I know.” Caiules sighed. “But it’s nothing pretty.”
The feds back at the hill followed the leaving car with their eyes as it disappeared down the road back towards the city. The white clad FCW officer with the bored face looked over at his grey clad colleagues. “Caiules Mabades, one of the Five Families.” he remarked with his face unchanged.
“Soon to be former five families.” the first of the men in grey answered with a shrug.
“We could just have snuffed him right here.” the officer remarked.
“That’s not our job.” the man in grey sighed before beginning on another note. “Are we ready with the quarantine?”
“Pretty much.” the Officer replied before taking a look around him.
The man in grey brought up his intercom and gave off an all clear signal before returning the device to his pocket. Roughly an hour later a column of black vans started rolling through the barricade which had been moved to let them through as the vehicles started pouring towards the city.
Looking at the legion of black vans hurrying towards the city the FCW officer shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “I still don’t see the point in why we should let the Blackshirts handle this.” he grunted. “Our boys could do it just as fast and probably a heck lot cleaner.”
The man in grey had stood nearby and heard him. “It’s law and order working at its finest my friend.” he said with a scoff. “Our kind goes by the book and long gone are the days of Empire when we could just dispose of anyone that displeased us.” he smirked and pointed at the vans. “The Blackshirts are a political paramilitary. We, are not political. We’re civil servants. We act following governmental regulations. And nowhere in those regulations does it state that we influence the political paramilitary.” a wide grin spread across the man’s face. “So we do nothing.”
The officer took another long slurping sip of his coffee.
Caiules was out of the car even before it had stopped in front of the luxurious villa that his family called home. A henchman in a suit came walking hurriedly towards Caiules with a face that clearly showed him thinking that something was amiss.
“Young Sir?” the henchman said with concern filling his voice.
“Where’s Silannus!?” Caiules shouted inquisitively as he rushed past the man barely registering the man's answer before sprinting through the door.
Inside the great hallway Caiules looked around before darting into a musky sitting room where he noticed the man he was looking for. Silannus, a shady Kharkezhi looked up from the newspaper he was reading and stared at the younger man in confusion.
“Silannus,” Caiules began flinging his arms around out of pure stress, “We got some serious sh!t going on. The Feds have blocked the roads in and out of the city and I don’t what they are up to but they got stinking greyrats with them and they were spouting some nonsense of a quarantine and the bloody Institute for Communicable Disease Control. Something is up and I don’t like it. This stinks like a dead carcass no Lessari would even eat.”
Silannus stared back at him but Caiules continued on like a machinegun of words on fire.
“We gotta gather the muscle, bring the family home. I don’t know. Silannus, bring me everyone!”
“What do you mean everyone?”
At first people didn’t know what to think when the black vans started flooding the streets of the city. Some even dismissed it at something going on between the five families that pretty much ran the town. No one could in their wildest dreams believe that the vans represented anything resembling the authorities as such things didn’t really exist in Loanapour. At least not any authorities that weren’t brought our otherwise knee-deep in the pockets of the five families. But as soon as pockets of vans started parking and men started exiting them the city of Loanapour found itself facing an overwhelming wake up call. Men wielding assault rifles, carrying grey pants, black shirts and body armor kept rushing out on the streets in neat lines. People started fleeing the streets. Some hurried for their homes while others simply ran without any plan at all. It wasn’t long after that one could hear the first deafening bursts of gunfire. After decades of existing under the radar the city now watched in dread as civilization had returned. And it had come knocking with a battering ram.
Okay XP sorry I misunderstood what you said.
We play on RMB for over 3 years. Why we should change something that simply works? Cuz newbie suggestion?
Kras is Conservative Confirmed.
Nah. RPing on RMB works, conservative way of govern don't.
The Ebony Coast
East South-Central Nova Glaedirsgrad - 42km North of Uudek (ESC-MJC3)
Passing from under the eaves of a great ovular tunnel that connected a network of rails, Ma’tyr breathed deep. The sweet smell of salty sea air revitalized his senses and relaxed him. Cries of sea fowl, the sound of lapping waves, and a dilapidated half-finished dock was a sobering reminder of the finite state of things. Moving further down a well-trodden path, Ma’tyr continued to survey his surroundings, stopping mid-stride as a distant memory flooded into his mind's eye.
The smell of the sea on the wind drifting through open windows, a classroom of young adults. Images displayed upon a large touch-activated holoscreen.
“What is it?” Said Arga, worry etched on his earthy-toned face.
“I remember seeing this... place.” he said, waving his free hand. “This is ‘The Ebony Coast’.”
Arga continued along the path, passing him.
“What gave it away? Surely not the basalt cliffs?” he joked.
“From what my Father told me -- and his to he-- my family originated in this area. I thought it interesting that I should travel so far to-”
“-return to your roots?” Nakari interrupted.
The group continued walk in the open along the black, stoney beach.
“Yes, that.” he replied.
“You’re wasting your time, Ma’tyr.” she stated, stepping over a large waterlogged tree.
“How is that a waste of time?” he asked cautiously.
“Because,” she huffed. “Your family is a branch connected to a thick trunk. The chance that you’re still closely related to anyone here is slim. Hundreds of millions were killed in directly or indirectly because of the war and millions more left the country before it. Making a past connection where you have no past is redundant. You can’t unmake your foreign identity--” she continued to trail on, leaving Ma’tyr standing in place.
She’s right. he thought. I had no connections to anyone here before I arrived… but… the land is still indirectly the place of my origin.
It took some time before Nakari and Arga retraced their steps to see the group at a halt and a visibly disturbed Ma’tyr sat upon a weather smoothed rock.
Arga slung his rifle over his shoulder and knelt to meet Ma’tyr’s piercing eyes.
“Even if what Nakari said was true, you are still connected to the land and it’s people. The fact that I’m still alive is proof. You are as much a part of us as we are of you.” he said, placing a bandaged hand on his foster father’s shoulder.
“There is a Liberan philosopher, the name of he, I cannot recall… He once said ‘The whole world’s a stage, each nation an actor, every individual a prop.’. I am not of this world, not apart of this stage; yet… I am here. Things are and are not as they should be. I took solace in the cause I pledge myself to, but… ah, never mind it. Let’s continue.” he said, putting on a new face.
“Ma’tyr…” Arga said undertone.
Shooting an angry look toward a guilty-faced Nakari, Arga followed after his friend’s footsteps.
Two hours later…
Coming upon a small indent, a recess into the stoney black beachside cliff, the group halted once more. At Arga’s command, they set up their fires and broke out the food. Many already gorging themselves on their rations or rubbing aching feet.
“Ma’tyr,” spoke Arga. “We should be about 30 km from Uudek now. Our contacts will be here in the morning -- if all goes well, our message will be delivered and our attack will commence as planned.”
Ma’tyr nodded lazily.
“I’ve never been so exhausted… I’m almost jealous about other species being able to fall into temporary comas -- no, sorry. I meant sleep.”
“Try to eat, have some drinks. The weariness will spill away before long, I promise you.” he said, slapping him on the back.
Instead of joining the other men and women, Ma’tyr withdrew from his pack an instrument of glossy black. It had taut, nearly invisible strings and a wand with slightly thicker strings. The whole instrument was nearly as long as his arm, but somehow he found room for it. Setting the fat bottom end in his lap, he began to play by drawing the wand across the taut strings. A melancholy whine permeated the air, silencing the laughter and casual conversations of the others. As the sounds rose and fell, a gripping feeling took hold of Ma’tyr. Sorrow took hold and spoke through the drifting notes. Like the ocean’s tides, it rose and fell in rhythm, then took a drastic turn. The whine turned to keening, as if something had been lost in the musical swells. With one last motion, the piece ended and a satisfied Ma’tyr nodded at his work, then drank deep from a steel flask.
“What was that?” Arga asked.
“That,” he said, “was the Lament of Arten. It’s a famous song among my--” he paused momentarily. “-our people.”
“Could you play it again for us?” arga asked.
“Certainly.” Ma’tyr said, his eyes glossy.