East Novaran Blues

Presidential Palace
Vesthavn, Hustreache
January 18, 2023
12:30 (UTC-5)

The Presidential Palace in Hustreache was in many ways a relic of the days when a king ruled over the country. It drew upon architectural styles that were popular once upon a time in places like Tretrid and Norgsveldet. A modern Hustrian observer would perhaps say that it was an icon of the monarchy’s delusions of grandeur.

The Presidential Palace also bore the scars of the monarchy’s violent overthrow. There were bullet holes embedded in the stone work here and there, from when forces of the Hustrian Republican Front stormed it. There were paintings slashed, frescos with parts of the plaster pried off to systematically eliminate every image of the Hustrian kings of the past.

It was perhaps a peculiar place to house the seat of government, but a lot of those signs of destruction were somewhat of a sign of national pride within Hustreache. It was a symbol of the tyrants of days past, and their avarice, and of their eventual overthrow. The government that followed had taken pride in essentially sitting on a throne built on the rubble of the House of Fuglestad.

For all its flaws over its nearly 100 years of existence, and even as it started to liberalize, Hustreache continued to take pride in the destruction of the monarchy. Even at its most authoritarian, the Republic had always been a step up above the monarchy.

Ambassador Eohgifu Engelwulfsdohter looked around at the rather peculiar sense of Hustrian decor as she walked through the palace’s hallways. She had come to the conclusion that leaving the remnants of the symbols of the monarchy up was meant to remind people of what had come before the Republic and of the extreme violence in which the Republic had been forged.

She finally reached her destination, opened a door, and walked inside. There was a table with a few seats set around it. One of the chairs was occupied.

“Good afternoon, Ambassador. Please take a seat,” President Felix Fredriksen said.

Felix poured some coffee into a mug, and put a bit of milk and sugar in it. He sipped the drink before looking up at Eohgifu. “Coffee?”

Eohgifu shook her head.

“Alright. Feel free to help yourself if you change your mind.” The friendly smile on Felix’s face faded, replaced with a more serious expression. “Now, do you know why you were summoned here?”

“There’ll be a summit held in Kyinster soon, between Tretrid, Ymirland, and the Federation, to discuss matters of security within East Novaris.”

Felix nodded. “I don’t think Cynebury will be surprised to find out that we in Vesthavn have significant reservations that we would like to express about this matter. There are a lot of threats to Hustrian national security out there, which unfortunately include nearly all of our neighbors. We worry that the summit will embolden those who wish to do harm against Hustreache and its people.”

“I would be remiss to not remind you that Hustreache has many allies as well,” Eohgifu said.

“Ambassador, those allies may stand as a deterrent against conventional threats like Norgsveldet, but do you think that will dissuade groups like the Akuan Liberation Front? The Sons of Odin? They don’t care how much Great Morstaybishlia says they back us.”

“We are doing this because we believe this is within the best interests for the stability of the region, President. Does Hustreache not stand to benefit from peace? It remains the primary economic hub in the region. We have come to a conclusion that Federation involvement in Northeast Novaris, between Ymirland and Kuduk, is unlikely to end soon. Is it not more practical to integrate them into the system of affairs in Northeast Novaris, instead of attempting a long and protracted campaign of trying to dislodge them?”

“Ymirland thinks as poorly of us as they do of Jarisven, and given the high level of Federation involvement in Ymirland, it is impossible to conclude that the Federation does not think poorly of us as well. I would argue that it is not within the Tretridian interest to invite further involvement by the Federation. You will simply embolden them, and then you will find a situation in northeast Novaris that is beyond your control.”

“It is clear that we will not come to an agreement on this matter here,” Eohgifu said. “It remains our position that this summit will serve the best interests of everyone in the region. Your reservations are noted and will be relayed back to the government of Tretrid. Is there anything more you wish to discuss?”

Felix shook his head. “Nothing at this time. Good day to you, Ambassador.”

The skies above Novaris
January 18, 2023
11:45 AM (UTC-7)

Beorhtsige Wulfricsunu was perhaps the most well known for his work as the Permanent Representative to the League of Novaris, but his duties also included that of the Ambassador-at-Large to Novaris. The two offices has always overlapped with each other since the inception of the League of Novaris under the office’s previous occupant.

He set the briefings he was reading on a table and looked across it at none other than Prime Minister Eoforwine Æthelstansunu, who was contemplatively staring at a map of northeast Novaris.

Eoforwine looked up from the map. “I wonder what your impression of the Federation is, Mr. Wulfricsunu.”

“I would be cautious at the very least. They’re a power that we haven’t previously factored for, and with the RCEU and their recent outreach, they’re certainly planning to extend their reach even further.”

Eoforwine nodded. “We certainly have reasons to be wary of them. Our interactions with them certainly have not been that great within the last few years.”

Beorhtsige recalled the hubbub around the Federation’s acquisition of nuclear weapons. That was certainly one way to put it. “Relations certainly could be better. Especially since it’s clear that they’re here to stay.”

“The Federation may have gotten involved in Novaris only relatively recently, but at the very least we need to establish better relations with it,” Eoforwine said. “It always pays to maintain goodwill with other countries, and to improve poor relations where possible. And here, we have certain things over which we may have common interests.”

He looked back at the map of northeast Novaris. “There’s been something that has been bothering me for a while about this map, Mr. Wulfricsunu. I think I know what it is.”

Eoforwine pointed at a certain country on the map. The name Jarisven was printed neatly on it in serif letters.

“You see this, right?”

Beorhtsige nodded.

“I don’t want to anymore.”


Ernest Féret Memorial Airport
January 18, 2023

It was always a strange feeling when one visits a place named after a fallen Côtois soldier, even more so when you are the indirect cause of the memorial. In Akuanism, naming a place after a person means their spirit is alive, it roams the unfamiliar land, in a land where their body has fallen in the name of fighting against oppression. Ernest wasn’t an Akuanist, he was Côtois, a citizen of the Federation and he would be honored for his ultimate sacrifice to protect Ymirland.

The plane landed but some final security checks have to be completed first, all according to protocol when visiting trouble land or places rather hostile to the Federation. Of course Ymirland has calmed down long since the violence of the war in Ymirland, though the risk of Sons of Odin trying something again kept the Ymir and Côtois security on their toes.

“Madam Pierre, we are ready to disembark.” A large ursine informed the Federal Prime Minister, arms resting behind them.

“Thank you for your service Comrade.” Jeanne Pierre stands up, fidgeting with her tie. Thankfully there was not a planned photo op, she could head directly to the hotel and rest for a few moments. The meeting between Tretrid and Ymirland wasn’t until the next day. She stood up from her seat, picking up her briefcase.

Walking towards the airlock of the plane, she took a quiet moment to send a message to her wife that her plane landed.

Defense Ministry
January 18, 2023

The office of the chief of defense was simplistic in design, modest by all means save for a handful of paintings along the walls of the room. Paintings of the Ny’Sænuri liberation of the northern lands from the fascists of Jarisven, the bold Ny’Sænuri riding on horseback armed with bolt action rifles driving away a so-called ‘superior’ force.

In addition to the paintings of glory, news articles framed in small wooden boxes about various dead Hustrian and Jarisvi soldiers or government officials killed in ‘terrorist’ attacks. Car bombings, lone wolf attacks and the odd coordinated assault on patrols and outposts. The chief held pride in the work of his most loyal of Ny’Sænuri, those who gave up comforts of civilized society and accepted the risk to become a fighter for the liberation of the Akuanists held in the unjust and cruel hands.

The career military man heard the door knock. He cleared his voice and spoke up, “Come in.” Another kemonomimi stepped into the room, fixing their tie. The Ymir ambassador sat down across from General Ny’Välsen.

“I suppose it is not another missing shipment of fertilizer and radio parts?” The general replied with a flat tone, sipping his coffee.

“No, this is about something different than just the usual missing shipments. There is a meeting between my government, Tretrid and the Federation. My government would like to extend our hand to bring Kuoväszna into it, to discuss security arrangements within our little corner of Novaris.” Ymir’s ambassador relaxed into their chair.

“I don’t believe the Côtois government would be very accepting of my government being at such a meeting. Given their rather pompous attitude.” The old general replied, pouring the ambassador a cup of coffee.

“Not very accepting but tolerant, given Jarsiven recent actions reigniting tensions within the region with their terrorist groups. The Federation is reconsidering the situation with your government. Perhaps with the both of us, we can push for… More direct assistance from them than just missing shipments of mislabeled things.” Ymir ambassador warmly accepted their coffee, taking a long sip. “No matter what, we need to show a unified front towards the matter. I’m sure the Federation will see the wisdom in our words and perhaps motivate Tretrid to join in our endeavor.”

The general stayed silent for a few more moments, “I will be there, as will the president for appearances. For a free Nykuzniszna.”

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Embassy of Tretrid, Kyinster
Kyinster, Ymirland
January 18, 2023

Eoforwine’s motorcade arrived at the Tretridian embassy about half an hour after his plane touched down in Ernest Féret Memorial Airport. He and Beorhtsige stepped out of their vehicle once they had been let through the gate of the complex.

The Tretridian Ambassador to Ymirland, Stiðwyn Cuðheresdohter, was there to greet the two once they were outside.

She shook their hands. “Good afternoon, Mr. Æthelstansunu, Mr. Wulfricsunu. Have you found Kyinster to your liking, so far?”

“As much as I’ve seen it only from behind tinted windows thus far, perhaps,” Eoforwine said.

“There’s a few things we should discuss, but after we’re done, do you wish to tour the embassy?”

It was a tradition for Tretridian Prime Ministers visiting the capitals of other countries for diplomatic summits to tour the Tretridian embassy and meet the diplomatic rank and file.

“Of course.”

The three moved into the Ambassador’s office to discuss last-minute preparations for the summit.

“The Government of Ymirland sent me notification that Kuoväszna has accepted their invitation to attend the conference,” Stiðwyn said.

“Interesting,” Beorhtsige said. “We weren’t sure whether they’d show up, given that relations between Tretrid and Kuoväszna are… not great.”

Eoforwine considered the matter for a moment. “Kuoväszna has an interest in, at the very least, minimizing the threat that Jarisven poses to their security, especially when you account for terrorist organizations in the region like the Sons of Odin. If they have any particular demands for us, however, I suspect it would have something to do with relations between Tretrid and Hustreache.”

“It’s worth noting that the Government of Hustreache lodged a diplomatic complaint with us over this summit,” Beorhtsige said. “I suspect that in response to the summit, they’ll probably reach out to their Morstaybishlian allies for security assistance. Now, Great Morstaybishlia might be an ally, but I’d be wary of drawing them further into Northeast Novaris, given that their involvement there might spark conflict between them and other powers like the Federation, which would not be great.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” Eoforwine said.

“In my professional opinion as Ambassador, I’d also suggest considering current bilateral relations between Kuoväszna and Ymirland,” Stiðwyn added. “The two countries work together on a number of issues, not so much because they actually like each other so much as they have certain interests in common and, of course, certain enemies in common as well.”

Beorhtsige nodded. “I would of course be remiss not to mention that the Federation’s behavior would probably be considered peculiar at best if examined through the typical lenses of Tretridian policy analysts. It’s a matter of that they have chosen to reject certain values and uphold others in a way that makes their modes of interstate interaction seemingly eschew certain global norms.”

“The acquisition of nuclear weapons by the Federation comes to mind, especially so soon after the International Forum attempted to institute non-proliferation measures,” Eoforwine said. “What does that mean for what we can expect from Pierre and company tomorrow?”

“Pierre seems, by all accounts, genuine in her interest in spreading socialism globally, as well as countering imperialism worldwide. I suspect that may cause slight difficulties, given Tretrid’s past with Gondwana, though in the case of Northeast Novaris there’s a clear cause for Tretrid and the Federation to cooperate on—the security of the region. Where that is concerned, though, they’d probably have more than a few concerns about Hustreache, given how closely linked Hustreache is to Hirdism.”

“The Federation is heavily involved in Ymirland, and Kuduk to a lesser degree, and so they’d naturally be concerned with the security of the region,” Stiðwyn said. “From their perspective, it’s easy to conclude that Jarisven and Hustreache are threats, given their support of the Sons of Odin and the Ny Ulvrikia National Army respectively.”

“Fredriksen would probably lodge another protest if we openly said that Hustreache were supporting them,” Beorhtsige said in a slightly teasing tone.

“Perhaps, though it’s impossible to deny that there are still links between the HRF (R) and the NUNA. Nonetheless, at the very least Tretrid and the Federation share a common adversary in Jarisven, though Hustreache will remain a significant challenge to reaching any breakthrough in relations in the region.”

“As for bilateral ties between the Federation and Tretrid themselves, those lie outside my domain, since my office is specifically for Novaran affairs.”

Eoforwine nodded. “I did consult with Foreign Minister Wealdmundson and the Ambassador-at-Large to Yasteria on that particular matter. I’m aware that information within the Royal Diplomatic Service is compartmentalized on a need-to-know basis, but I’ve decided that this is the kind of situation where you’d need to know.

“There are goals other than those pertaining to Northeast Novaran security that Tretrid and the Federation may have in common. It may be best to try to improve bilateral relations between Tretrid and the Federation in pursuit of potential future cooperation regarding these goals. If the Federation is to be further involved in Novaris, then it is better to have it be a Federation with stronger diplomatic ties to Tretrid. I would like to raise the possibility that the Federation’s general policy goal of opposing imperialism may be a basis on which Tretrid and the Federation can perhaps cooperate to limit, say, Mirhamian influence abroad.”

“Well, in the case of Mirhaime, it’d wrap around to being under my purview again.” Beorhtsige said dryly. “However, I’d like to note that we’re currently allied with Tavaris, which… does not enjoy friendly bilateral relations with the Federation. Was that discussed?”

“The issue was brought up. There is, strictly speaking, not much Tavaris can do in response, as Tavaris needs its alliance with us as much as we need our alliance with them. We did conclude that we should expect a very significant level of fallout on that end if we achieve a breakthrough with the Federation, but I decided that it was an acceptable risk. If the result of this summit leads to us cooperating on certain common goals that could potentially drastically alter geopolitics, the true extent that we will be doing so will be hidden from view. I’m not sure Tavaris needs to know that we might be getting the Federation further embedded into Novaris.” Eoforwine paused. “Is that everything you need to know? If so, I suppose the embassy tour can begin.”

(Joint post with Cowlass)

Ovijrin, Jarisven
High Minister’s Palace
January 19, 2023

The half elven man who had found himself in charge of what likely was the most hated regime in East Novaris could not help but let out a groan in annoyance as he looked at the reports given to him by the High Assembly. One would think a one party state would find itself having easier time making decisions, but the PGP finds itself far too divided on a plethora of issues that any attempts to reform the worst aspects of his nation’s governance has been lacking in successes. Economically they were doing far better with his privatization reforms having brought some new investments into the country, still quite lacking but he was able to secure some deals with Mirhaime and Blåskog. Being mainly the latter after Blåskog’s unfortunate suspension from the NCEF. It has also ensured that he had allies among the bureaucrats and oligarchs who were aligned with his Reformist Faction, the only reason why the Orthodox Faction hasn’t tried to coup him is thanks to that backing. Geopolitical wise Jarisven was almost in the same bad position as it was 20 years ago when he took over. Sure he was able to secure some level of detente and co-existence in East Novaris, but unfortunately the Sons of Odin’s involvement in the Ymirland Civil War has put him in square one. He was hoping he could lower the grotesque large military spending but with the interventions nations like Norgsveldet and Federation have been doing against other regimes similar to his? He couldn’t afford that, at least without the militarists couping him. There being a sudden summit in Kyinster does not improve things either.

He took a sip from his coffee cup as he turned the page on the reports given to him. The budget being slightly larger than that of last year, his attempts to decrease the amount of corruption within the military have played a small part in that. It didn’t exactly make the militarists happy of course but the last they needed was another general getting a yacht instead of money being spent on securing maintenance equipment for their old HK-22s. Having been able to buy it from Blåskog, though they didn’t exactly get it in the well maintained level that the damn king promised. His eye twitched when he thought back to his meeting with the Blåskovian king. He swore he could smell the damn debauchery coming from the elven king when he was there. The way the Blåskovian eyed up on kemonomimi servants made his skin crawl. It basically was raw proof of the Great Seduction taking place. But he had to keep his disgust to himself when he was around Carl. They were arguably the closest thing his country had for partners at the current moment. His thoughts about that damnable meeting were broken however with a knock on his office door.

“Come in.” Tarvan said with a sigh, taking a sip from his coffee cup once more.

A young looking elven man steps into the room, well young by elven standards. His uniform being freshly pressed, buttoned polish and his dozens of medals he ‘earned’ being freshly made for his outfit. In his hand, some fancy latte drink and a Witcain on his wrist. Looking extremely smug as he walked towards the desk, taking a seat in front of Tarvan. Before he even spoke, Tarvan could hear the raw arrogance forming from him. “Mr. High Minister Jonis, you called?”

“Quite so, give me an update on the condition our military is in.” Tarvan poured more coffee into his cup before he continued on. Giving the younger elf a clear stern look. Himself wearing dark gray Gothiric robes with ceremonial chainmail armor underneath. “And don’t try to cover up the issues, you know just as well that other generals have been discharged for being yesmen. If you want to keep your fancy watch and your medals then be frank.”

He only rolled his eyes at the High Minister. “Well, half of our military oil reserves have been sold off. Rain kept into ceiling of the armory down in the capital and rusted a few hundred rifles. Still got a problem with quartermasters selling off military equipment to tourists. Oh, and the majority of our tanks are missing parts from them.” He takes another sip from his drink, “Also majority of the middle rank officers, the colonels absolutely hate you after you cut their bonuses to pay for those jets.”

“Well if they want any access to our nation’s mineral wealth and any say within our bureaucracy then they need to shut the hels up.” Tarvan said in an almost spiteful voice. “Tell them that they will get a wage increase and a bonus If they prove successful in getting our tank fleet in order. We have a large army that needs to be in top shape.”

“Well, if only we had spare money to buy parts for our tanks and provide ‘motivation’ to colonels. Not to mention that a tank without oil is just a fancy paperweight.” He keeps speaking in the damn smug tone, but at least this young blood is being direct with him.

Tarvan groaned in annoyance, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Fine, the wage increases first and extra funding will be placed to get new parts. I will be contacting the Blåskovian king, he be needing more importers of their oil after Norgsveldet ditched them afterall…” He had to curse himself knowing that he had to talk with Carl again.

Finishing his overly sugary coffee, tossing it into the trash can next to the desk. “Another topic is the generals’ secretaries. Now it seems silly getting them all a gift, however if you like knowing what they’re doing and saying. The secretaries are the eyes and ears for you.” He takes out a small piece of paper, “I took the liberty to get them all flowers and various gifts, you will comp the cost no?”

The High Minister internally sighed as he signed the bill that was over 100,000 JKN worth (10,000 SHD). Giving the young elf a small glare as he handed the bill back to him. It was a smart decision to promote Henrrow Moringson, giving Tarvan a valuable ally within the military, but by the gods he was smug. “Done. Before you go I have one final request.”

“Don’t worry, I already promised myself to stay away from your wife.” He gives that damnable look again to him.

“I’d punch you if you weren’t so damn useful.” The High Minister rolled his eyes at the damnable fool’s joke. “I need you to help prepare plans for resistance groups in case our nation gets invaded. The Northern Region is our best bet for a good insurgency.” He let out a small sigh, before holding his hand up to ensure Moringson did not speak up just yet. “I will increase your wages and help you get out of trouble next time you anger someone if you do this for me.”

“Consider it done, my girlfriend needs new earrings anyway. Well, one of my girlfriends.” He gives a chuckle to himself, and much to the annoyance of the High Minister. He stands up, offering to shake the older elf’s hand.

“Just avoid flirting with Mr. Råtson’s wife this time around. I anger the Orthodoxs enough by simply existing.” Tarvan took hold of Moringson’s hand, shaking it.

“Don’t worry, I took your advice and took his daughter out for a nice time around the capital.” He smiles widely at him, with that stupid, damnable boyish charm of his.

The High Minister took note of that to keep in mind to ensure his daughters were as far away from this man as possible. “Have a good day, Mr Moringson. Glory for Darzisa.”

“Yes, yes Glory for Darzisa and all that.” He let go of the High Minister’s hand. Placing nonchalantly into his pockets and leaving Tarvan’s office. Though not closing the door behind him, letting the High Minister see the little shit flirting with his secretary.

Tarvan walked towards the door, closing it harshly, hopefully giving the young boy a small jump as he did so. “Almost as bad as Carl…” He said, shaking his head as he once more sat down behind his desk as he called up the Blåskovian King.