Nation Name: Svarti Republic
Provinces you wish to claim:
1.B1
2.B2
3.B3
4.B4
5.G67
6.G98
Proposed Color of Your Nation: Light Green
I, HolyKing, have read the rules set above, and agree to follow them.

Taking a sip of his water, King Graham wiped off some sweat of his brow. Scratching his chin, he thought about what King Akakois said about OPEN. "I can agree with you, but I must know more about what you mean by sharing things such as safety and technology. I am all for bettering one's own nation, let it be known, but I need to know more about these parts. If it's just things pertaining to oil, then I am all for it, which I assume it is, but if it is not, then I would need to know, because after all, I don't own all the oil in Foxtrove." The King of Foxtrove stretched out a little, the ride here had been tiring to him, but he wouldn't let that be known on this meeting. "Once more, I doubt it is more than anything besides oil, but knowing a little can't hurt a bit, can it? And of course the rest of the agreement seems fine as well, knowing what the other oil producing countries is important, as well as ourselves. So I would say I am for it."

Team Name Winter Roses
Driver 1 - Alf Hall
Driver 2 - Oliver Paul

The Kingdom of Greater and Lesser Foxtrove invites Mani Sayyad, or any man of his choosing to attend the convention in Srvark, the capital of Lesser Foxtrove. Here, we hope to discuss any and all future relations with your great nation and it's interests, many of which seemingly align with our own. Hopefully, this will bare the fruit of a great future for the both of our nations.

From, Marwin Aus, Minister of Foreign Affairs

Tildam was bustling city, a light snow was falling over the city made from many classical buildings, some from when the city was founded near the sea, and the newer, neoclassical architecture that lay on it's borders. Lordess Else Gottschallk was waiting at the airport the Holy See's embassadors would be arriving at, dressed in 19th century Fenneshian clothing, complete with the bearskin hat, which to her was keeping herself warm as the snowfall began to get more increasling heavy. She was sat down near the private terminals, waiting for the plane to touch down, and was wondering what the Duke was saying or what he was wearing. If she had to guess, early 14th century style clothing from Greater Foxtrove's main isle. She sighed, and soon looked up as the roaring of jet engines roared in, standing up, she went outside to go and greet the guests.

The King of Foxtrove took some to soak in the scenery of the garden and the lake palace, having nothing like that in Foxtrove with it being a predominantly arctic nation, although he could go without the heat of the nation. Take sips of the glass of water, King Graham took some time with his response towards King Akakois. Finally he said, "As of the situation back home, things seem to be fine, although I must say the oil barons and not as happy as I am. Hopefully this trip will change their mind, I hope.” He took another sip of the drink, before asking his question to King Akakois, “So you would you mind telling about this 'OPEN' plan you have in mind?”

Duke Faustino Ozan Yorgos Carrara sat up in his bed, finally awake after a night's sleep. Rubbing his eyes, he got up and began to head into his restroom, which itself was a sprawling white room, decorated with rugs decorated with the finest patterns, furs of exotic beasts like the Great Bear of K'svat and the deadly wolf of the Ghost Forest, and the greatest thing for him at the least, the fine tree of the Bloodmarsh, emitting a pleasant smell like that off the sweetest fruit known to man, although eating the fruit from the fine tree would result in death of whoever was unfortunate enough to consume one. Entering the bath, he threw a log onto a firepit, heating up the bath to a nice warm temperature. Faustino began to think of the great city he ruled, Sybos, a great city of nearly a million souls. The city itself comprised of two parts, the old and new city was built on the ruins of a vast kingdom, long forgotten. With two walls, both nearing 100 men tall, have carvings of stories and battles. With the first wall being called "Lovers Wall" protecting the commonfolk from any threats, and the inner wall, being callled "Rich man's Wall", protecting the higher born citizens. Faustino sighed and got out of the bath, blowing out the firepit on his way out.

Combing his dark, curly hair along with his mustache, he threw on a black robe, covered in patterns of diamonds and other shapes. Along with this and a cap with the same features of the shirt, he threw on a red sash, holding a curved sword in a golden sheathe embedded with diamonds  and rubies and other gems. He put on his sandals, and began to walk down the staircase towards the open garden of his palace, where his children would play with one another. He watched them as they ran, chasing each other with wooden swords, atleast until they saw him, in which they dropped their fake weapons and towards him exclaimed "Dad!", which as much love a child could give their father. Embracing his three boys, he stopped to look around before asking "Do you know where your sister is?" The oldest, Antonios, a boy of 13 years responded before his brothers, "Last I saw of Sabrina she was mom." "And do you know where your mother is?", he asked him once more. "The throne room, I think." Faustino sighed and rubbed his eldest sons head before sending them back to play. Walking to the main hall of the palace, began to think more of city, of how in the center of the western sect, near the Tower of Blue Cross, there was a small statue of an old hero clutching a spear. The statue itself was unimportant, but the story it told captivated Faustino as it was a story about how an old hero of the empire managed to defeat the oncoming hoards of barbarians by himself only to be turned on by one of his friends. Faustino wasn't quite sure why that certain story stuck with him, but it had oddly enough, maybe because he felt like that was his father? By the time he reached the throne room, these thoughts clouded his mind until he heard his musicians playing, playing a song that was pleasant to his ears the same way the fine tree was to his nose. Seeing his wife, along with his missing daughter of seven years, he kissed them both before taking his seat on his throne, if it could be called that as it was a series of cushions that helped his back as well as his neck once he sat on it, he looked to the musicians who had stopped playing once he entered, and nodded to let them know to keep playing, which they did to his satisfaction. As he was lying on the cushions, a soft breeze blew in from the outside, moving the white transparent drapes like ghosts dancing to the music. The duke closed his eyes, and drifted into sleep.

Awake now, Faustino heard his name being called, not by his wife, but rather his Imperial Mage. The white robes and the face mask with the blue cross did not show any sign of humanity, and Faustino would've certainly believed they were not human had he not lay with a Imperial Mage girl in his youth. "What is that you ask of me, Sir Nedim?" Sir Nedim, removed his mask, showing an old face clinging to his skull with a small beard, spotted white with age, and answered to his lord, "There is a messenger from the east, wishing to speak with you, and you only as he did not seemingly answer to the guards." Suspicious, Duke Faustino replied back to wise mage, "Bring him in, but not alone sir." Nedim put back his mask and nodded, walking towards the outside of the main entrance. In his place, two guards entered, clad in mail and chain, holding spears and a ragged man, covered in chain and mail, although severely burnt and ruined. "Speak good sir, why have you traveled this long way only for my presence?" The ragged man went on his, and began to grovel to the duke. "O My Lord! Please forgive us! I am Sir Rivan of the Western Watch of the city of Iskar! Earlier this day, a great beast attacked us, burning the city nigh to ash in a single noon! Our Lord Commander, sent me here to ask of you, in your greatness to assist us as our liege lord did nothing! I ask of thee O Great One, please take pity!"The room fell silent as the man spoke his tale. "A beast? By the beast to you mean dragon or another beast Sir Rivan?" The weary knight looked at him, with some hope in his eyes. "Yes! Yes, a dragon fell on us, that is why we have come here, O Great One!" "I offer my condolences, Sir Rivan" the duke said coldly, "But I am afraid I cannot do a thing as Iskar falls within another dukes' control. I can offer you this however." The duke stood up in one quick motion, heading down the steps of his throne," I shall call in mercenaries, monster hunters, whatever you may call them, but I shall assist you, Sir Rivan. You may stay here if you wish, or you may wish to go back to your Lord Commander and tell him of the news, either way I shall assist you in this threat." Sir Rivan could do nothing as tears began to stream down his face, before jumping up and exclaiming, "I-I shall tell Lord Commander then! O Great One, we will sing stories of you until the sun never rises again!" He bowed, before the guards who had taken him in escorted him out of the palace. "Call the guild, Lord Fulivo, tell them I wish for the best of the monster hunters." Lord Fulivo nodded before walking off. "Lets see what the best actually is however.", Duke Faustino Ozan Yorgos Carrara, Lord of Sybos and the Wide Plains of U'lkin, Slayer of the Red Demon, Layer of the Goddess, said to himself climbing up to his throne said to himself.

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OOC- Just create a character if you wanna hop in, just have them show up at the guild.

 

To King Akakois of Royal Seleucid,

With the organization of 'OPEN', I do believe this is the interests of my country and can help the likes of both of ours. As such, I shall head towards the Palace on the Lake personally and hope to discuss the future of OPEN.

Signed,

King Graham Tuorholm I

    Duke Dietrich, Duke of the Fenneishislandstaaten, and crown prince to the throne, was sitting on a bench of a decent make along side his Imperial Advisor,  Matthias Raske. Both of them wore black suits with royal colors on the cufflinks, although Matthias wore a golden shoulder cord, knights star, and a captain's cap. "The train is seemingly going to take forever and we're stuck here in this damn heat." The crown prince sighed and rubbed his temples. Matthias looked at him before calmly saying, "It'll be fine, Your Grace. I'm sure this project will at the very least meet your expectations." Dietrich sat back up and sighed once more. "Hopefully it will."

    "Your Grace, would this time not be the best chance of learning of where our assets have gone into?" The prince looked at his advisor. "I suppose you're right. I'll go ask our hosts about some of the areas we'll be seeing." The prince turned and began to walk towards the people who had so humbly asked for diplomats to come and visit the city.

Frederick and Williamson Holstein were the names of two Foxtrovians visiting Nagatsuichi for the car showing. The car they were driving was a modified Lancer Evolution 7 they had received as gifts from another minor lord. The car, had to say a few custom paint jobs before it ended up in their hands. As such, it looked like something a person who had no social life would own, which was rather fitting for the pair of siblings. As most of their time living at home was spent playing foreign games on their computers rather than anything. But here they decided to show off what they had.

"How do you think the locals will like it?", Williamson asked his younger brother who was in passenger seat. Frederick thought for some time before responding, "Dunno. How will they react to people taller than five four?" Williamson and his brother had a slight laugh before reaching their destination. "Welp, time to see the lesser cars."

Dear, Josepha Ladra-Buenarbe

It has come to attention that you are showing your great city to the world. With Quintella being relatively close neighbors with rather frozen relations we shall send Crown Prince, Duke Dietrich to the event.

 

After reaching Solne Street, Annalena walked towards the area where the Sword of Johann was being held in. The sword itself was being held a clear-as-day glass box surrounded by five royal guards who occasionally glanced towards the crowds. As she got closer she saw the state the sword was in, which to her shock, was in a decent state considering it was almost one-thousand years old. The sword itself was clearly decorated with several jewels implanted before, after, or during Johann's rule. The blade had only a few nicks on the blade here and there, but they were small enough where they wouldn't diminish it's value. The blade itself was a smokey grey with rune and a story carved into it, although it was too hard to see from where it was placed. After looking at the sword for some amount of time, she decided to look at the other things in the street.

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August and Grete Dreyer were two minor lords looking around Solne Street for the festival. August was wearing his winter officer uniform, a gorgeous white silk dress uniform decorated with a series of medals and ribbons that popped out from the white background, along with a white captain’s hat with a contrasting black bland with the Foxtrovian symbol for prosperity, the pine fur with a crown around it. Grete however chose something a little more comforabtle than her brother however, and that being just some normal casual clothings; a sweatshirt, jeans, and boots. Both of them have arrived from a completely different set of islands around the northernmost sea, just to see this festival, which in their own opinion, did not live up to the things people had been saying about it.
Despite this, they still carried on with their day, or night rather, see what the city of Saint Peters had to offer which made their trip somewhat worth while. As they were traveling, they overheard people talking about the Sword of Johann, which made them travel around for sometime to reach Solne Street, which was a difficult as it was in the older parts of the city. As they made their way to the sword, a few locals guards gave their respects to August with a salute. They made their way to the glass entombment and only thought to themselves, Wow.

Today in Foxtrove, predominantly in the Greater and Lesser regions rather than the Ironclad Isles, as this was when, almost 980 years ago, these two regions were united under Johann the Greater. In honor of the conquest, the people of Foxtrove would hold a festival in which they would abandon the social norms and begin to adopt the cultural taboos, many of which were simply partying. The center for this festival, St. Peters, would light up for several weeks on end with people strutting around in native Foxtrovian clothing and modern clothing, creating something kind of surreal as these two eras met. Foxtrovian culture and nationalism would explode in these days as the people began celebrate what their ancestors did to reach the point of where their descendants could live lavishly such as right now.

---

Annalena, otherwise known as Anna to close friends and family, was walking out on Nächt Street, one of the main streets of St. Peters where a majority of the festival would be taking place. Around her were crowds of people, drinking the Red Kiss[1], laughing, and all around having a good time. Even the state police, people trained to be as cold and harsh as the climate they grew up in seemed to be enjoying themselves, with many of them (guns still carried over their shoulder) taking pictures with the crowds as they marched past them. In the distance, Anna could see a group of people wearing traditional Foxtrovian clothing, although with a slight twist. This Foxtrovian clothing, was not clothing, but rather the armor made during the time that Johann the Greater had finished his conquest. The group wearing the armor could be heard shouting something. As they marched past her, she realized that is was the national anthem, only sung in old Whetian. She smiled as she could tell these were members of the Royal Guards as even in a older uniform, they still had their white cloaks. Walking down the street once more, she encountered a stall selling native food, venison with herbs, with spices and smoked ham stuffed inside. As she payed the vendor, handing the coins for a slice, she then heard the national anthem, although this time in more modern Whetian. She was not the only person to hear the singing - if it could be called that - as a group of people raced towards one of the many roads that branched off into the city. Soon joining the crowds, she found her way towards a coliseum of sorts, with wooden and metal barriers blocking people from the inside, as there was multiple people inside clashing it out inside. Anna knew what this was from the moment she saw it, a sport called "Holmgang", in which multiple people with full suits of armor would fight each other until they were the last one standing. She had seen it once or twice, but that was only a provincial tournament, but this one, the people were on another tier compared from the ones she had seen.

After the first few Holmgang rounds had ended, Anna had decided to leave as see what else there was to do. As she was walking the streets, she felt a buzz in her pockets as her phone went off. Reading the text, she decided what to do and where to do it at. She would go to the Solne Street, where the legendary sword of Johann would be shown.

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1.	1. A drink made from several native dyes and fruits that would leave a sweet taste and stain the lips a bright red for sometime

1. ES
2. Himeyama
3. Akhabnil
4. Harbordale

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Höhe Infantrie: 3,789 Active Members

Current Admiral: Matthias Florian Forst

Luftwaffe: 2,578 Active Members

Head of Guard: Graham Tuorholm

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Population: 5,762,636
Foxtrovian - 42%
Fennenish - 53%
Other - 5%