by Max Barry

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Orbis Secundus RMB

WA Delegate: None.

Founder: The Proletarian State of Forenet Skandinavien

Last WA Update:

Board Activity History Admin Rank

Most Nations: 373rd
World Factbook Entry

Welcome to Orbis Secundus!

Feel free to pour yourself a cup of tea and make yourself at home!

We're a roleplaying region where Late Cold War humans are colonizing a medieval world that, curiously enough, is also inhabited by humans.

  • The regional roleplay has been restarted!

  • We have a LinkDiscord Server again!


Embassies: Athiris II, The Bar on the corner of every region, Terran Blood, International Debating Area, The Embassy, Orbit, Gypsy Lands, Hollow Point, The Meritocratic Utilitarian Empire, and Tecerion.

Tags: Medium, Social, Role Player, Map, Past Tech, and Offsite Chat.

Orbis Secundus contains 41 nations, the 373rd most in the world.

Today's World Census Report

The Most Armed in Orbis Secundus

World Census experts took their lives into their hands in order to ascertain the average number of deadly weapons per citizen.

As a region, Orbis Secundus is ranked 5,252nd in the world for Most Armed.

NationWA CategoryMotto
1.The United States of MonopolgradCapitalizt“I've inflitrated their society.”
2.The Republic of OsamatownInoffensive Centrist Democracy“One Osama, One Jihad, One Arab”
3.The United States of The Sol SectorNew York Times Democracy“Power through the indivdual”
4.The Republic of Lars DNew York Times Democracy“Do what you love”
5.The Oppressed Peoples of BigLargeLeft-Leaning College State“Bigger is Larger, and Larger is better”
6.The Federation of Draco N0vaCompulsory Consumerist State“From the Ashes of a Kingdom, a New Federation Arises”
7.The Empire of United Ber Hand GorlandCapitalist Paradise“Mission Accomplished”
8.The Holy Empire of Gre Weavand ClipFather Knows Best State“Justice, Piety, Loyalty”
9.The Tribal Empire of StenzaCompulsory Consumerist State“Emperor is great, Emperor is god.”
10.The Democratic Republic of QuandoniaCorporate Bordello“Pride and Industry”

Last poll: “Time and Technology”

Regional Happenings


Orbis Secundus Regional Message Board

Yuma Sono, Yessuma
7 August 1974

Bursts of earsplitting bangs echoed off the walls as the riflemen and machine-gunners fired on the town guard. Alternating doublets of ringing ratta-tatta-tatta's struck the firelancers at the gatehouse unharmed by the explosives' molten jets. Rifles with short screams picked the archers off the walls. Where the firelancers were stopped by Scandinavian kevlar, only the stone fortifications offered refuge from the spot showers of bullets.

Attention: The current year was retconned from 1972 to 1974. Please adjust your posts accordingly.

Elena Marivich
Monopolgrad Landing Site

August 8, 1974

Elena loved Monopolgrad, she really did. She only wished that the people in were a bit more cooperative. The men and women standing before her represented their states, each appointed because of their skills and decision making. And they were all bickering like children. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, exasperated. They had only been on the planet for a few days. Was a little cooperation as they got set up really too much to ask?

"People, can we all just-" She was cut off by the roaring voices of the crowd, no one caring enough about her to listen. After living among them for five years, she still wasn't used to how little the Grads respected authority. She was the President of the colony for God's sake, and they paid as much attention as they would to a beggar.

That didn't mean they disliked her, not in the least. A major factor in her election was that Elena was a recent immigrant before they set off into space, one not connected or controlled by the states. In short, the perfect neutral party. The majority of the arguing leaders before here had voted for her in fact. So it wasn't really a matter of respect, just a national attitude.

Respect or no respect, they needed to listen. Elena's hand went down to the gun that she wore, a well kept Colt M1911. She didn't really like guns, but it was expected of any Monop to be armed. Drawing the weapon, she fired two rounds into the air. The shots echoing around the scrubland. That got their attention. More than a hundred pairs of eyes fell on her as she tucked the pistol safely back into its holster.

"Thank you." she said kindly, her calm, slightly accented voice not showing a trace of her exasperation. "Now then, what was this foolish argument over?"

There was complete silence, save for a light cough. Gazing steadily at the sheepish crowd, Elena shook her head slightly. "You don't even remember, do you? It must not have been important then.Since that's over, let's get down to business. Have any of the states not began the set up of permanent housing?" She smiled warmly when no one answered. "Great! Our next order of buisness is to set up communications. It would be in our best interest to be able to talk with each other, no?

She was pleased when she saw the nods of approval. You could never order Monops around, she had learned early on. You had to suggest things to them.

"I recommend that you all exchange radio frequencies with one another, preferably by the end of the day." The group immediately huddled together, sharing their information. Satisfied that at least one thing was going to get done, Elena left for her own tent.

Country Name: Emmurta
Demonym: Emmurtans
Language(s): English
Status: Native
Government: Anacratic by the people for the less educated
Population:7 mil
Culture/Attitudes: we are a free people that don't care for government ours is only a front
History: we were enslaved by the colonists of our land then we rebelled and freed ourselves from captivity and now have a strong distaste for all government and want to rule our selves and be ruled by no one period
Strengths: strong military everyone fights
Weaknesses: education not very focused on
Map Location: the big island near the equator next to Egypt and Assyria

Emmurta wrote:
Language(s): English

How is that possible? If you're a native, it has to be some sort of made up language.

Emmurta wrote:Language(s): English

I will go with the same ruling that was used in the previous iteration of this roleplay. It is plausible for natives to use Earth languages so long as their locations are logical (i.e. a native country speaking German would not be able to exist halfway around the world from you, due to the two languages being related). Your use of English is permitted.

Emmurta wrote:Government: Anacratic by the people for the less educated

What we're looking for here is more along the lines of: is your country a republic or a monarchy? Are your leaders democratically elected or not?

Emmurta wrote:Culture/Attitudes: we are a free people that don't care for government ours is only a front

Could you perhaps explain the bit about your government being only a front?

Emmurta wrote:History: we were enslaved by the colonists of our land then we rebelled and freed ourselves from captivity and now have a strong distaste for all government and want to rule our selves and be ruled by no one period

What colonists?

Emmurta wrote:Strengths: strong military everyone fights

"Strong military" and "everyone serves" don't usually go hand-in-hand. Not even Sparta had its entire male population serve.

Emmurta wrote:Weaknesses: education not very focused on

In addition to being remarkably common in the middle ages (to the point of not really being a unique weakness) a lack of education would not be an adequate weakness to counter the strong military you seem to want.

Yuma Sono, Yessuma
7 August 1972

The firelancers at the gate dropped as soon as the ammunition struck their bodies, only the sound of their dying screams could be heard over the gunfire. The archers that managed to duck were shocked at what they say. The rumours were true: these men were invincible. They were quick to throw down their weapons and shake in fear.
Onin held up her hand as if to say 'Hold fire.' She shouted out at the walls, "Anyone alive and wants to live, come out with your hands up!"
Most of the survivors agreed to this demand, the few defiant ones fled for the square, hoping to make a last stand and send a warning to their leaders. If Yuma Sono was to fall, the entire Republic was to fall. It was far too fractured to hold out and they knew that the troops couldn't stop a full on riot.

EchdenCorp Colony
10 August 1972

Lawrence Wren, CEO of Echden Corporation, stands at the large viewing window on the silent bridge of ship EC112, Mankind. He looks out at the world below, a beautiful foundation, freshly barren and blackened. Captain Roderick Lewis approaches him from the aisle behind.

Lewis: "Sir, the initial settlement zone has been cleared successfully. An estimated 4.2 million natives were exterminated. Roughly half the population. Another 800 thousand have been captured and are now being processed for internment..."

The captain pauses for a moment. He looks flushed and is visibly disturbed by the statistics and is uncomfortable having a superior, much less the CEO, on the bridge.

Wren: "Yes, Roderick, and the territory's condition?"

Lewis: "Right. Of the total 400 thousand square kilometers, the ten settlement zones of 100 square kilometers and fifty of twenty square kilometers have been prepared. Slightly more forest was destroyed when clearing the agricultural lands than intended due to uncontrolled fire, though the main area was taken care of. The rest has been left untouched and scout teams are in the process of surveying. We are aware of another colonial power close to us in the East, various native civilizations all around. No formal contact has yet been permitted."

Wren turns and looks blankly at Lewis, then takes a small gun from his side and shoots him the captain in the gut. The captain falls; the silence on the bridge is, for a moment, piercing.

Wren: "Thank you Roderick".

The CEO, calm and comfortable, unloads the gun and places it on a console. He turns and walks off the bridge to prepare for the final meeting before landing day. When he leaves, the first officer gets up from his station and takes the captain's chair, completing the paperwork the captain had left. The other bridge officers respectively change their seats. The captain is left dying by the window, watching his crew. No one's eyes look back at him.

Werjin, The Sol Sector, and The Real States of Libertia

Shane "Traveler" Isacsson
August 10 1974
Near Solarian Border

Shane wondered why he had ever bothered specializing in navigation. Sure the pay was pretty decent and he got to miss out the advanced combat training other specialists took, but it sure was boring. When he set off into space, he had expected to do more than draw maps of the terrain. It wouldn't be so bad if his partners weren't complete morons.

"Hey Traveler! You gonna finish up them maps the bozman wants, or are ya too busy yanking yaself off to hold ya blasted pencils?"

That charming individual was Nathan Keracs, better known as Butch. Loud, brash and stupid, he was the heavy weapons user currently hanging onto the M2 Browning mounted to their jeep. Vain as hell, he had torn the sleeves off of his olive drab jacket to better show off his muscled arms.

"Go burn Butch, or I'll strap your smeg smelling carcass to your own lead tosser and annihilate you."

"Both of you shut up. Now."

The third voice belonged to radioman Mark Travis, or Cowboy. Traveler and Butch both obeyed. Cowboy was not someone you wanted to annoy. Even while he was just leaning against the side of the jeep, he gave a sense of quiet menace that demanded respect. Superior officers payed attention to what he said. His nickname fit his fashion sense. Wearing a black Stetson, mirrored aviators and cowboy boots, he looked like a Wild West lawman. Even his weaponry fit the theme. His belt held dual 1861 Navy model revolvers and his 1866 Winchester rifle was propped up against the jeep.

Shane focused on his map making, eyes scouring the area. It was a pretty planet, he had to give it that. The brown steppe they were on overlooked a stretch of grassland, wide open under a blue sky. His moment of rapture was interrupted by Butch.

"Why's we here on a rock looking at nature for ? We's killers, not artists!"

"Because, spermwaste," Shane sighed. "President Marivich thinks it's smart to know the hide-holes and trap spots, not to mention locals who might swap with or murk us."

"Marivich can go corpse! Bird wants to sees the pretty lands, she can take her blasted selfs to sees it."

"I said shut up." Mark growled. Shane and Butch fell silent again, only for the silence to be interupted by Mark. "Traveler thinks the President es muy rico pieza de culo." he said with a small grin. "Am I right, or am I right, makkers?"

Shane threw up his hands, exapserated. "Fine!" he yelled above Butch's guffaws and Shane's light chuckling. "Ya got me! What can I say, I find rides that speak prop English cute and ones with accents hot. The bozwoman is both. Can I draw this horsewaste map now?"

Not waiting for an answer he turned back to the horizon, taking note of a village in the clearing. He marked it on his map carefully. He needed to know the locations of tribals in the area. Looking at it through the binoculars, he frowned. They didn't look like tribals. He handed the binoculars to Cowboy.

"Hey Cowboy, that hole-in-ground look like locals?"

"Nope. Tech's too advanced. They be offworlders."

Butch looked confused. "There's Grads this far out?"

Scratching out the label on the map he had put, Traveler shook his head. "No, they's gotta be foreigners then."

Mark grabbed his rifle and hopped back into the driver's seat. Starting the engine, he looked back toward the other two.

"Well then killers, looks like we're gonna meet some foreigns."

Mark paled and clutched onto his M16. "You sure? What ifs they the shoot first, talk later kind?"

"Then I kick the gas horse into reverse while you aborts lay down cover fire."

Butch laughed and checked his ammo feed. "Don't be a biter Traveler. We's just gonna talk to ems, find out where they from. We'll get a bonus for this, I can feels it!"

With that, the jeep took off down the steppe, hurtling on the grassy plain and screeching to a stop at the outskirts of town. Standing up in his seat, Mark cupped his hands around his mouth. "Who's the big man 'round here?" he called out, Traveler sinking down in his seat with his rifle, Butch smiling easily as he hung off the M2.

August 10th, Year One, 11:32
Borders of the Limestone Mine

The sound of a vehicle could be heard in the distance. Although not entirely alarming, strange, given that it was lunch break for all the miners. Any other sounds would most likely come from the opposite direction, where the dormitories where. The guard team looked into the distance, and saw the Jeep closing in on the camp. Since there was no other colonizers in the vicinity, at least to the guards knowledge, they thought it was one of their own. They approached the vehicle with caution, but expected no trouble.

Approaching the vehicle they shouted "Who goes there!" which they thought to be a silly question, for the people on the Jeep would just be some Solarians, right? Wrong. They would never expect what was to come.

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