Antracian Strife

OOC: This bit is just to set the scene so you know who’s who, etc. It would all be public knowledge anyway. If you want to contact a faction, then send someone to their main city. Chances are, they’ll find you.

Donald Marvin walked into the bar. Spotting his friend Jacob Transon in the corner he walked over to greet him.

“Donald!” Exclaimed Jacob. “So good to see you again! How was Vekaiyu?”

“Interesting. Very interesting. It’s always great to experience such a different culture.”

“Yes, definitley. Here, I got you a drink” Jacob said, passing Donald a glass of beer.

“Thanks.” Replied Donald, gratefully taking a sip. “I see alot has changed in the fifteen years I’ve been away.”

“Indeed it has, for the worse I’m afraid.”

“Really? Tell me about it.”

“Well the country’s in a mess. Industry is grinding to a halt. Industrialisation is stagnant and there aren’t enough jobs to go round. The economy is in a depression and hyper-inflation is gripping the nation. Public amenities like Schools and Power Plants aren’t working. Antracian farmers aren’t producing enough food, which means that food has to be expensively imported. Unfortunately, because there’s not enough jobs, people can’t afford to buy the food, so now there’s a famine aswell. Water treatment is under par and that, coupled with the lack of equipment in hospitals, means that disease is rife. And now, to top it all off, there’s a heatwave which is causing a draught.”

“I see. Isn’t the government doing anything about it?”

“No. Well yes, they tried to begin with, but now they’ve given up and are just looking to make as much money as possible before emigrating. They only have de facto control of the capital of Portlat. They still have some support there though and have the advantage of being the only legitimate claimant to control the nation. There are a few other groups though who are looking to get a foot in.”

“Really? Like who?”

“Well, first there’s the Communists. They’re based in and around the industrial city of Drastan. Whilst they have alot of support with the working class in the city, the inhabitants of the nearby countryside are much more cautious. Most there are farmers who don’t want to loose their businesses.
Then there’s the Fascists. The polar opposite of the Communists, they’re based at the opposite end of the main island, in Falville. Again, they don’t have much control beyond the city, but a fair amount of support within.
The Brotherhood of Jalar are a theocratic order with a relatively large area of influence over the whole of Horlsat. Their main base on that island is Gotsbay. Because they deliver the word of the lord (or so they say), they’ve managed to squeeze a fair amount of cash from the general populace. Needless to say, the general populace is not happy with that.
The Antracia Party is an offshoot of the current government. They basically hold the same, centrist, ideals, as the government but want to actually help the country and do it forcefully if necessary. They’re based out of Kinston but have a fair amount of sympathisers in every city.
Finally, there’s the Businessman’s Club. Starting as just a social club, they’re now grown to a size at which they’re ready to attempt a ‘forceful takeover’, as it were, of the nation. Needless to say, they have cash, and lots of it, but their numbers are small and the people dislike, almost to a point of hate, them. Despite this, they’ve managed to forge a base in the rich part of Hayel.”

“Well. It looks like the country’s in a pickle then.”

“Indeed. Especially seen as the factions are all at a stalemate. All it would take is one small thing to tip the scales, then the country could descend into civil war…”

Maps, for reference.
---------Blank Map---------------------Cities--------------------Labelled Cities--------Main (Inter-City) Roads---------------Areas

Somewhere in Hayel

“Is this a good idea?” asked John to his friend Rob as they walked around the city. The two mercenaries looked a bit out of place in the area.
“Shut up and keep looking,” Rob snarled, “We need to find our clients. They said they would be somewhere around this God forsaken city.”

The two walked around the streets, occasionally sidestepping out of the way of other road users, mostly large expensive cars and bicycles. The two continued to walk around looking for their clients.
“If we can’t find anyone, we will be going back to the hotel and telling the other guys we are out of here,” Rob said, “I don’t need this crap looking for people. It’s costing us money just being here.”
“If you say so,” John replied.

Suddenly, a man in a sharp suit appeared in front of the men. “I believe you are looking for me. I represent the Businessman’s Club. Please, follow me.”

The men were led into the VIP area of a nearby bar, where a chubby-looking man in a suit sat smoking a cigar.

“Gentlemen, welcome. Please sit down. Would you like a drink? Charles. Get these men some beers.”

The man who escorted the mercenaries into the bar promptly left.

“Now. My associate here informs me that you have been searching the streets of the city looking to speak to someone from my organisation. Well. I fit the bill so what would you like to say?”

“That is correct sir,” Rob said, “My associate John here tells me he received a request from yourselves stating that you are in need of our services. Apparently something to do with the Government in this nation?”

As the man returned with the beers, John nodded.
“We aren’t really too concerned about politics. As long as you have the funds, we can even have the men shoot watermelons for what it’s worth. Just tell us what you need and I’m sure we can arrange it.”

Portlat, but similar scenes happening on the main cities of every faction.

A formely unoccupied building, surrounded by considerable open space, yet still close enough to downtown to get some attention suddenly gets very lively as numerous trucks and workers arrive and start reshaping it into something that looks like a car retail, but sells much more dangerous wares…

On the front a sign: Soon - ZHI retail store

On a train, from The Levasani, a Vekaiyun provice, to Ye’leli, the capital of Listonia

Stapen Evesumi, the shady fox well-known from the Listonian crisis, rested in his room on one of the many cars of the train. Barring any instances, he was to arrive in Ye’leli in roughly eight hours, deliver an encouraging speech, and coordinate the various relief projects in the damaged and smoldering city.

Suddenly, an IM popped up on his computer screen.

Hello.

He noted it was from Sevlala “Good afternoon…” he typed.

There appears to be a large imbalance in the nation of Antracia. It is believed there are foreign interests within the nation, notably from Drakkengard.

“And?”

Wouldn’t it be nice if we, too, got involved? It would be a shame if they were suddenly under their rule, so to speak. We’ve known for quite some time how closely related Drakkengard’s policies are to Packilvanian “diplomacy”. How many people have been displaced due to the strife in Listonia?

“Hundreds of thousands, at least.”

The situation in Antracia is dire. It would be difficult to convince some of them to go over there. But… perhaps with the current recovery in Listonia, they might want to take their chances over in Antracia, especially the pioneering gypsies your lands are famous for.

“It will be difficult. Many people in Listonia are adamant about running their own nation now. As you know, many support the Vekaiyun cause as well… but Antracia? I don’t know.”

Nothing is ever one hundred percent majority. There will be those who will find that type of life appealing. Ask anyone. The best way to influence a nation is to inundate it with your own people. Who knows? I wouldn’t be surprised to see a favorable Dverian-Listonia population move over after the hells they experienced over there.

“Very well.”

Excellent. Good luck.

Stapen shut his laptop and returned to viewing the scenery while finishing his smoke.

Hayel
The man chuckled. “Oh we have the funds alright.”

He thought for a moment.

“Tell me. How many men do you have at your disposal? And what equipment do you have with you?”

“We currently have around 200 men in the city,” John replied as he took one of the beer bottles, “Another 300 can be brought in if you need them. Most of us are ex-military men. We don’t suffer fools here, so you can be assured we all know what we are doing.”

John paused, “As for equipment, we have the latest weaponry with us. Pistols, Rifles, Missile launchers even. If you need anything specific, we can ship it in but that is at extra cost. You have anything in particular?”

The office of the lazlowian ambassador in Antracia

Molnár Radomér, the ambassador, didn’t know who was Havasi Vajk. The only thing he know, apart from having a stupid name, was that comrade Havasi was a member of the Lazlowian Communist Party. And he certainly looked like some lover member of the party, who is either a worker or peasant, or someone who tries to look like those. The lousy tie and the slightly worn suit at least gave that image. Looking at his face Radomér concluded that Havasi was more likely an intelectual, a clerk before the revolution, who stayed in his position, and tried to look like a worker to give him more security. Radomér wondered why this comrade Havasi is here.

Havasi soon cut to the chace and gave a file to Molnár. The ambassador quietly read it. He tried to keep a calm face but his widened eyes gave away his surprise. He looked at Havasi.

“-I know,”-said Havasi-“looks can be decieving.”

“-I am at your service Colonel.”

“-Please, let’s stay at comrade Havasi.”

“-How can I assist you?”

“-At the moment all I want is a meeting with the head of the Communist Party.”

“-He’s most likely at the city of Darstan. I’ll get to it immediately.”

Somewhere in Darstan

Havasi approached the man standing near the wall.

“-The spotted cuccoo bird is flying backwards.”-he said.

“-It’s a cold day for pontooning.”-said the man.

“-So, where are they?”

“-Overe there. Either he or one of his subordinates will be there.”

(Note: In hungarian, the surname comes before the given name, not after.)

Businessman’s Club
“Anything in particular in mind? Not at the moment, no. I was mainly assessing whether we would need to supply you with equipment, although that seems unnecessary now.”

The man mulled this over.

“The time may come, however, when larger equipment is needed. I’m talking vehicles, tanks, even boats here. We would have at least one port open to you by then so there’s no need to worry about smuggling. So I assume you would be able to provide?”

He took a swig of beer.

“Now. I think we have come to the matter of money. What would you charge per man on a…let’s say weekly basis?”

OOC: When/if he accepts, would you like control of the faction or would you prefer to just be the mercenaries working for them?

Communists

OOC: So his first name’s Vajk?

Timothy Braan was sitting bored, half listening to his PR adviser. He glanced up for a moment and spotted the two men leaning against the wall. He gave them an inquisitive glance before looking back to his adviser.

Half an hour later, as the adviser was leaving, he noticed the men still there, against the wall.

Summoning his bodyguard, he said, nodding towards the men “Go and find out what they want.”

"Before the bodyguard could move, the men began to approach. Immediately, the bodyguard reached for his gun but Braan put a hand on the bodyguard’s arm to stop the reaction.

“Wait.” He said. “Let’s see what they want first.”

OOC: I’ll just play the mercs along with Drak if you don’t mind. You can play the faction.

Rob looked at John and nodded. John then said, “We can get any equipment required. Vehicles are easy. Tanks are OK, maybe not the latest but good enough to do the job. Boats, depends. We can get as large as a frigate given enough notice.”

Rob then started speaking.
“As for money, we charge around $50 US per man per week, so weekly rate at the moment is $10,000 US. We do however give discounts for block bookings of manpower and equipment and longer periods of time, anything from a few months to several years. And if you certain methods of payment, such as hard cash nets you some further reductions…helps cut down on traceability between ourselves from authorities…but we do accept plastic as well for some services,” Rob joked as he sipped the beer slowly.

“Excellent. I think we will be doing business together. I would like to order six month’s support to begin with, starting in one month from now. As for the larger equipment, we won’t be needing that immediately so I’ll notify you when the time comes. I can easily get you payment in cash. I assume you won’t be wanting our worthless money, so we’ll pay you in US Dollars if that is agreeable with yourselves.”

John took a sip of the beer.
“Doesn’t matter about the currency. We can provide a price list in converted local currency although it is subject to a small conversion fee of 0.5%. US dollars will do nicely as I’m sure we can provide a further discount for that currency.”

Rob continued.
“If you want to, we can start right away as we have a lot of men and equipment on the ground at the moment. No extra charge if you are paying today,” he smiled.

OOC: The Antracian currency is hyper-inflated, the de facto currency in the country is now US Dollars, which is why he assumed they’d want it in that.

The man smiled, and took a sip of Beer. “Whilst it is tempting, I’m afraid there are other matters that need to be seen to first. 200 men alone, no matter how good, have no chance against a whole army. First, I need to talk to some people. Due to the somewhat illegal nature of this matter, I hesitate to give you a phone number. Instead, there is a bar opposite the hotel you are staying at. If you need to contact me, then ask the barman for a Pineapple Smoothie and immediately afterwards ask for where the toilet is. We’ll find you after that.”

John looked at Rob, then nodded.
“We understand. We’ll have the men on standby in the hotel ready to go in a month. We’ll use the time to prepare.”

Rob nodded.
“Anything else you wish to discuss sir. If not, all we need is for you is to take a copy of our contact details and we’ll leave you to get on with the business you need to do. We’ll of course be discrete if we need to contact you. Nothing unnecessary of course.”

“Thank you. And no, I don’t think there’s anything else for now. Nice to do business with you gentlemen.”

They stood up and shook hands. As they were leaving, the man whispered in his bodyguard’s ear.

“Keep tabs on them. I want to know everything they do, everywhere they go. Be discrete though.”

De-commissioned Vekaiyun naval warships and various other commercial ships, full of civilians, dotted the horizon of Hayel as the morning sun glistened on the pristine water. The ships were literally packed with Listonian refugees, each one willing to either settle in a far away land permanently or until the infighting ceased in their home nation.

Aboard The Unico, one of the first mates on the ship grabbed a megaphone. “All English-speaking Listonians move to the front of the ship!”

Some of the refugees moved through the crowd but, once it became clear they were getting precedence, the entire crowd of natives began to swarm to the front.

“Stop! Stop!” He drew his pistol and fired shots into the air, which quickly silenced the crowd. Ironic enough, one of the shots hit an errant sea gull, and it happened to land near the bow of the ship, grabbed by an old human who smiled a toothy grin. The first mate gazed upon the crowd, paying little attention to the incident. “English-speaking Listonians to the front only! This is not for priority, but for convenience! If you do not listen, you will not be cleared to land, and will be forced to sail back home!”

The captain appeared on the scene, apparently a little more worried than his crew. He stood next to his first-mate. “I don’t know if we will be given clearance to land… no reports were made out of Listonia, because there is no government in Listonia as of now.”

“We’ll have to try. I’m aware disease is rampant on this vessel, and I’d imagine the same is true for the others sailing in. They can’t make all of us turn around - we’re just the first wave, anyhow.”

“I hear Antracia’s not a very good nation to be sending refugees, economically speaking.”

“That may be true as well. But, it’s either this or risk going back to Listonia, which is still a very poor and bloody nation in of itself. It will take a while to get both of those nations back on their feet again, I’d imagine.”

The crew watched as the first vessel sailed into the harbor.

“Well, Rob, that went well,” John said as the couple left the bar. Outside they sheided their eyes from the sunlight as the days traffic went by.
“A little too well,” Rob murmured, scanning the traffic, “I bet you they’ll be watching us.”
“How do you know? He didn’t seem too bad,” John said as he threw the empty beer bottle into a bin.
“Remember the last job we went on? Our client turned out to have spy watching us. Besides, best not worry. It’s an occupational hazzard in this line of work. Also, we’ll only worry if they don’t pay us.”
“Whatever you say,” John said as the two went back to the hotel. Doing so, Rob produced his cell phone and flipped it open to make a call.
“Hi…yeah it’s Rob. The client still is interested…yeah…I know…yeah…tell the guys in the hotel to get ready in a months time. Same for the others back home. We’ll be staying around with a skeleton crew to do recon. Tell the rest they can freelance for a bit until the start date…yeah…that’s right…no, tell Mike not to bother with the special ‘toys’ just yet. Keep them on standby. Yeah…cheers…bye…”
Rob put away the phone.
“Pops tells us Mike is itching to go,” Rob mused.
“I’ll bet,” John said, “What we going to do for recon?”
“Just some sight seeing to plan on where to go and where to set camp, positions etc. This should give us a bit of a head start when we finally get going. I want to make sure it goes smoothly, like last time.”

Liberty City - Hall of the Federation
Office of the Council Minority Leader
“It is necessary at times to take a political hit in order to demonstrate power,” Council Minority Leader Art Emas stated forcefully, “and the Coocoostan incident was perfect for that. It let us show that we’re able to hold up legislation, no matter how popular, even without the help of anyone else…”

The short burly leader of the Liberty Party in the upper house of the Federal Forum took a sip of coffee after speaking. He always seemed to be consuming a food or drink, which likely explained his appearance. A total of seven men were sitting in the large office of the Council Minority Leader. These seven persons represented the leadership of the smallest party in the country.

National Party Chair Christina Jenkins was the physical opposite of the Council Minority Leader, a tall thin woman. “This will hurt in the mid-terms nonetheless,” Jenkins said flatly. “It makes us look like isolationists – refusing to help an ally in a time of need.”

“That image can be easily reversed,” Emas replied, “very easily.” The Councilman picked up a folder, then handed it over to the Chair. “That contains a bit of information on a plan I’ve hatched to convince the public that we’re not isolationist but merely careful. It’ll make us look like humanitarians, too, which can never hurt.”

“A peacekeeping operation?” The Party Chair asked, scoffing. “You’ve got to be kidding. There is no way…”

“Not a peacekeeping operation.” It was unusual for John Chang to speak at these meetings. The Conference Committee Leader had an influential job, sure, but the man rarely spent that influence. It was clear to everyone in Liberty City that he was saving up his influence to run for a higher office. “Just a humanitarian mission. We’d be sending few troops – just enough to ensure the safety of the humanitarian personnel – but we’d be helping a lot of people. It’ll be uncontroversial, it’ll be popular, and it’ll make us look good.”

The Party Chair raised an eyebrow. “How is the matter brought to light?”

“A group of Listonian Refugees just made landfall there,” Chang replied, “and I’m sure that will get news coverage. I’ll then take lead on lobbying for a humanitarian issue. I’ve been on Antracia in the past, so I can speak of how much better the nation could be, and I was a leading voice on the Listonia issue, so I can comment on that too.”

The room was quiet for a few moments. “Alright, John. If that’s what you’re thinking, then, let’s get on it.”

As they docked in the harbour, the shocked port officials tried to organise the throng of people surging off of the ships. Their efforts were in vain though, as the refugees didn’t bother listening and merely made to get into the city. The officials tried to stop and register them but what little security they had was of no use. Soon enough, all of the Listonians were free in the city of Hayel.