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Post by The Kerndom of Noreska on Oct 6, 2021 16:51:07 GMT
Sjkarnhold was bearly what could be called a city by modern standards, with a population nearing just under 100,000. The city was situated on cliff by the sea, buildings of red hewed timber with black shingled roofs were ubiquitous apart from the Shining flare of silver that formed the roof of the great hall.
The dignitaries arrived by sea, to a stone pier where a military parade square was lined with the rustic green clad Hyskarls whos' blonde and red Hair was stained black and their faces smugged with soot giving them an eerily uniform appearance.
The Kern was unremarkable for his station clearly a strong man, but shorter than expected, he greeted the dignitaries through translators and presented them gifts in thanks for their visit to his country. Eacg recieved a pistol of noreskan craftsmanship that was plated in silver and gold, and shewed scenes of battles between Brodnish heroes and mythical monsters. A Pocket watch of fine gold and unique design was given to each as well, emblazoned with etchings of the nation they represented's national symbols as the Noreskans understood them.
The Noreskan people wore dated, poor clothes of simple design, even the Kern himself, but all seemed plump and healthy, and well fed. The city was astoundingly clean with a surprisingly effective sanitation and sewer system.
The Dignitaries were provided quarters in the great hall, and given leave to travel the city under guard. The following day would host a Melee in their honor, followed by a formal dinner with the Kern and his family.
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Post by Fleischmann on Oct 6, 2021 17:47:50 GMT
Despite the distance only being a couple of weeks ride from Meinitzmark, it had been decided that the new country needed to be sufficiently impressed and as such shock and awe had been the order of the day. Though it would have been less practical to send a large number of cavalry to escort Haarsfrauja Robert, he was immensely displeased by being forced to spend even a week aboard a ship of the Hauhkunoleiksflutt. So Wunskazmakoja was not even a battleship, but instead a cramped Frundsban-class semi-armoured cruiser.
The food was excellent, but the company were all far too polite for his liking. Though none of them said anything, he could feel that they were all to one degree or another for Hlutrei and they seemed determined to spend as much time around him as possible. Normally, he would have some respite from their attentions by claiming to need to consult with his staff, but he had none with which to consult! This mission had been deemed to not require a proper support staff for diplomatic purposes, so he was stuck in a tin can surrounded by fanatics.
After a leisurely week at sea, they finally arrived at their destination. Skjarnhold was a small town, located on some cliffs, and it became immediately apparent why they had sent such a small vessel. If they had sent anything larger, it would not have been able to safely dock here. As things were, the ship's band began to play 'Unter dem Doppeladler' as soon as tugs got them close enough and the ship was nicely cleaned and decked out in decorations to impress these eastern barbarians. At a glance, it appeared that while not the easiest of tasks, it would not be too difficult to make landing here, with there being no obvious signs of shore batteries and the town itself being small enough to easily be dominated by a ship's cannons.
As he was let off the ship, he was greeted by a short man and his gaggle of translators. Upon receiving his gift, he noted that while pretty, it was undeniably antiquated. Grinning to himself, he inspected the striking mechanism and saw it was at least not a matchlock and then played around with pointing it at some random bird to see how it felt to squeeze the trigger. Not too much pressure was needed, though that did make the chance of an accidental discharge higher... Overall, an excellent piece that he would be sure to show off on his belt.
'Why, this has to be the prettiest thing I've been given just for hauling out somewhere! I wonder if this is why my nephew likes going abroad so much? Ah, the poor sod is going to miss out on this, but he should given his recent visit to Sheen. Did you know that he played a match against a local team and lost! The man could not even beat out some pansy Sheenish!' he practically shouted towards the end. 'Ah, but at least he has good taste in women. I almost expected him to marry some shrinking violet or a maid, but no, he actually got himself a fair match or two.'
Grabbing the man he was assaulting with a veritable onslaught of conversation by the shoulder, he then shook his head low, noting the nice strength and muscles below the clothing. 'Ah, alas, my own son... The boy is on track to being the next Hauhkuno, but I can hardly say he ever looks towards girls. I wish he would sort himself out and find a wife from our clan, but I am not going to force him to marry yet. He still has time to grow into his familial duties. Anyway, I think that is enough talking, I will head off to the meeting hall.'
Giving a nice reassuring squeeze, he confirmed indeed that his host was not a milksop. Most of the people around him were poorly dressed. Not poorly dressed as in they were lazily dressed, but rather, he did not see very much wealth being put into the materials or methods of construction. That could bode well for a war, as they might not be able to spare that much manpower for very long afore their industry collapses... Looking around further, he saw that the soldiers guarding the event were also less than modern. Their weapons... It appears that his gift had been a modern gun for them. Noting this down, he began formulating thoughts into plans and considering how many men would be required to carry out a nice raid on their border.
The best way to investigate this new threat might be through poking them a bit, after all.
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Post by The Kerndom of Noreska on Oct 6, 2021 18:48:44 GMT
Despite the distance only being a couple of weeks ride from Meinitzmark, it had been decided that the new country needed to be sufficiently impressed and as such shock and awe had been the order of the day. Though it would have been less practical to send a large number of cavalry to escort Haarsfrauja Robert, he was immensely displeased by being forced to spend even a week aboard a ship of the Hauhkunoleiksflutt. So Wunskazmakoja was not even a battleship, but instead a cramped Frundsban-class semi-armoured cruiser. The food was excellent, but the company were all far too polite for his liking. Though none of them said anything, he could feel that they were all to one degree or another for Hlutrei and they seemed determined to spend as much time around him as possible. Normally, he would have some respite from their attentions by claiming to need to consult with his staff, but he had none with which to consult! This mission had been deemed to not require a proper support staff for diplomatic purposes, so he was stuck in a tin can surrounded by fanatics. After a leisurely week at sea, they finally arrived at their destination. Skjarnhold was a small town, located on some cliffs, and it became immediately apparent why they had sent such a small vessel. If they had sent anything larger, it would not have been able to safely dock here. As things were, the ship's band began to play 'Unter dem Doppeladler' as soon as tugs got them close enough and the ship was nicely cleaned and decked out in decorations to impress these eastern barbarians. At a glance, it appeared that while not the easiest of tasks, it would not be too difficult to make landing here, with there being no obvious signs of shore batteries and the town itself being small enough to easily be dominated by a ship's cannons. As he was let off the ship, he was greeted by a short man and his gaggle of translators. Upon receiving his gift, he noted that while pretty, it was undeniably antiquated. Grinning to himself, he inspected the striking mechanism and saw it was at least not a matchlock and then played around with pointing it at some random bird to see how it felt to squeeze the trigger. Not too much pressure was needed, though that did make the chance of an accidental discharge higher... Overall, an excellent piece that he would be sure to show off on his belt. 'Why, this has to be the prettiest thing I've been given just for hauling out somewhere! I wonder if this is why my nephew likes going abroad so much? Ah, the poor sod is going to miss out on this, but he should given his recent visit to Sheen. Did you know that he played a match against a local team and lost! The man could not even beat out some pansy Sheenish!' he practically shouted towards the end. 'Ah, but at least he has good taste in women. I almost expected him to marry some shrinking violet or a maid, but no, he actually got himself a fair match or two.' Grabbing the man he was assaulting with a veritable onslaught of conversation by the shoulder, he then shook his head low, noting the nice strength and muscles below the clothing. 'Ah, alas, my own son... The boy is on track to being the next Hauhkuno, but I can hardly say he ever looks towards girls. I wish he would sort himself out and find a wife from our clan, but I am not going to force him to marry yet. He still has time to grow into his familial duties. Anyway, I think that is enough talking, I will head off to the meeting hall.' Giving a nice reassuring squeeze, he confirmed indeed that his host was not a milksop. Most of the people around him were poorly dressed. Not poorly dressed as in they were lazily dressed, but rather, he did not see very much wealth being put into the materials or methods of construction. That could bode well for a war, as they might not be able to spare that much manpower for very long afore their industry collapses... Looking around further, he saw that the soldiers guarding the event were also less than modern. Their weapons... It appears that his gift had been a modern gun for them. Noting this down, he began formulating thoughts into plans and considering how many men would be required to carry out a nice raid on their border. The best way to investigate this new threat might be through poking them a bit, after all. [b The "city" hummed with the buissness of day to day norekan life. Gunsmiths worked tirelessly as their shops seemed the most frequented. tradesmen and laborers bussied themselves with their myriad tasks. At 5:00 a bugal call was heard through the city from various cryer posts, and the population in waves began gathering weapons and heading to guard posts, garrisons, and out door ranges. In half hour intervals swaths of the population from children as young as 7 to elderly participated in fire drills. The odd sight of a 10 year old girl giving proper aiming and firing instructions to an 8 year old boy was striking, as was the sheer number of fire arms and crates of ammunition available. It was a community affair, with food and water served and many stories told. The Hyskarl escorting the Sadalen representative was a strikning young woman wearing they standard plane militaey uniform. She was surprisingly fluent in a number of Sadalen languages, and courteous in proper manners. She accompanied the representative through his sight seeing, and when prompted directed him to the Temple of Illuva, the city's library. There hundreds of books were kept in formal archives. The building was a round 2 story structure with a domed wooden roof of polished wood layered outside with slate shingles. The publically available stacks included books on Brodnish mythology, civil theory, and history both of Noreska and the Brodnish homeland across the sea. Much of the people's history was bloody, with both recent and ancient wars, and myths that depicted Brodnish heroes fighting demons, dragons, and other odd monsters. Modern history showed a remarkable willingness for the Brodnish people to adapt cultures, tactics, and technology into their own, with the recent advancement in fire arms from single shot muskets to ubiquitous use of breach loaded fire arms having occured in the last 2 decades. It seemed most Noreskan armament was imported, looted, or recycled, but a disturbingly large ammount was home made, based on designs aquired from nations abroad. |
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Post by xander10 on Oct 7, 2021 0:29:29 GMT
Sjkarnhold was bearly what could be called a city by modern standards, with a population nearing just under 100,000. The city was situated on cliff by the sea, buildings of red hewed timber with black shingled roofs were ubiquitous apart from the Shining flare of silver that formed the roof of the great hall. The dignitaries arrived by sea, to a stone pier where a military parade square was lined with the rustic green clad Hyskarls whos' blonde and red Hair was stained black and their faces smugged with soot giving them an eerily uniform appearance. The Kern was unremarkable for his station clearly a strong man, but shorter than expected, he greeted the dignitaries through translators and presented them gifts in thanks for their visit to his country. Eacg recieved a pistol of noreskan craftsmanship that was plated in silver and gold, and shewed scenes of battles between Brodnish heroes and mythical monsters. A Pocket watch of fine gold and unique design was given to each as well, emblazoned with etchings of the nation they represented's national symbols as the Noreskans understood them. The Noreskan people wore dated, poor clothes of simple design, even the Kern himself, but all seemed plump and healthy, and well fed. The city was astoundingly clean with a surprisingly effective sanitation and sewer system. The Dignitaries were provided quarters in the great hall, and given leave to travel the city under guard. The following day would host a Melee in their honor, followed by a formal dinner with the Kern and his family. Jon Harvey was not an amicable man, unlike his charismatic counterpart Lord Mayor Garend Marston, Mayor Jon Harvey of Tvickerland didn't exactly have the air about him to get an Emperor to sail to him after being called the king of shit. That jammy bastard, he'd have to find a way to wipe that smug grin off of Marston's face somehow, and now while Marston got to look like a great statesman, he was sent to this blasted backwater... Having travelled in as much luxury as possible, commandeering the Garend Marston itself, Jon Harvey was well rested and ready for the next step of his mission. Due to her large size, The Garend Marston was kept offshore and Mayor Harvey was transferred safely to her Pancake Class Escort for the last short distance. Landing in Skjarnhold, Harvey was unimpressed by what he saw, but polite nonetheless, he was a guest afterall. At least the military presence was what was expected for a dignitary of his importance. He greeted the soldiers initially with a polite nod, though hastened seeing how dirty they were with soot, in an effort to meet with the Kern as soon as damned possible. Before him stood a rather short, if strong looking man, who through at least five different translators introduced himself as the Kern he had come to meet, who then handed him a pistol, far less advanced than the Bentall-Fletcher he already was carrying, but well made nonetheless. At least he'd have something to boast to that Big Mouth Marston about. |
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Post by The Kerndom of Noreska on Oct 7, 2021 0:44:35 GMT
Sjkarnhold was bearly what could be called a city by modern standards, with a population nearing just under 100,000. The city was situated on cliff by the sea, buildings of red hewed timber with black shingled roofs were ubiquitous apart from the Shining flare of silver that formed the roof of the great hall. The dignitaries arrived by sea, to a stone pier where a military parade square was lined with the rustic green clad Hyskarls whos' blonde and red Hair was stained black and their faces smugged with soot giving them an eerily uniform appearance. The Kern was unremarkable for his station clearly a strong man, but shorter than expected, he greeted the dignitaries through translators and presented them gifts in thanks for their visit to his country. Eacg recieved a pistol of noreskan craftsmanship that was plated in silver and gold, and shewed scenes of battles between Brodnish heroes and mythical monsters. A Pocket watch of fine gold and unique design was given to each as well, emblazoned with etchings of the nation they represented's national symbols as the Noreskans understood them. The Noreskan people wore dated, poor clothes of simple design, even the Kern himself, but all seemed plump and healthy, and well fed. The city was astoundingly clean with a surprisingly effective sanitation and sewer system. The Dignitaries were provided quarters in the great hall, and given leave to travel the city under guard. The following day would host a Melee in their honor, followed by a formal dinner with the Kern and his family. Jon Harvey was not an amicable man, unlike his charismatic counterpart Lord Mayor Garend Marston, Mayor Jon Harvey of Tvickerland didn't exactly have the air about him to get an Emperor to sail to him after being called the king of shit. That jammy bastard, he'd have to find a way to wipe that smug grin off of Marston's face somehow, and now while Marston got to look like a great statesman, he was sent to this blasted backwater... Having travelled in as much luxury as possible, commandeering the Garend Marston itself, Jon Harvey was well rested and ready for the next step of his mission. Due to her large size, The Garend Marston was kept offshore and Mayor Harvey was transferred safely to her Pancake Class Escort for the last short distance. Landing in Skjarnhold, Harvey was unimpressed by what he saw, but polite nonetheless, he was a guest afterall. At least the military presence was what was expected for a dignitary of his importance. He greeted the soldiers initially with a polite nod, though hastened seeing how dirty they were with soot, in an effort to meet with the Kern as soon as damned possible. Before him stood a rather short, if strong looking man, who through at least five different translators introduced himself as the Kern he had come to meet, who then handed him a pistol, far less advanced than the Bentall-Fletcher he already was carrying, but well made nonetheless. At least he'd have something to boast to that Big Mouth Marston about. Aethelred Vertorixx put on a careful display as he greeted his guests. These show pieces and the display of his translators was a calculated if cumbersome cherade. Naturally he wanted his guests to feel they had the advantage, which was true in many way. But the wealth of knowledge they had already brought to his shores was exactly what he had hoped for. Modernization, his driving desire since his election. As he shook the good Mayor's hand he quickly and briefly glanced down at the device on the dignitary's hip. He must remember to have the photographers take a picture with his new guests, For posterity of course. The Ships were another thing he hoped they were proud and boastful enough to let be photographed. Every little bit helped. He hid a smirk as he listened to the conversation between his translators and his guests, he had spent the better part of the last decade eagerly consuming every scrap of text and every mechanical and industrial expert from these nations he cpuld get his hands on. But the game was afoot now, and if he was to take his nation forward a certain status quo needed to be established. Benine barbarian, undeveloped, nieve. Get them to help him out of pride, arrogance, or altruism. Behind his polite smile the machinations of a man ... who in a ruthless and underhanded political hierarchy, had won and maintained the top, worked tirelessly. |
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Post by Wilhelm Cransnikov on Oct 7, 2021 0:59:22 GMT
Ludwig gazed at the "city" of Skjarnhold from the fair ship HMS Carp, a destroyer ferrying him from the HMS Badger to Skjarnhold. Ludwig was not too surprised by the city's less than grand appearance, he had read as extensively as he could about the Noreskans though the lack of reliable information hampered his quest. There was relatively little issue entering port with the notable exception of the Gedhrits getting uppity as Noreskan guards got too close to the prince for their liking.
Ludwig looked favorably upon the fine gifts offered, though he had to suppress a chuckle at the old Cransnikov boar, a symbol of the old days of the proud Cransnikov Clan of Saxony.
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Post by The Kerndom of Noreska on Oct 7, 2021 1:07:41 GMT
Ludwig gazed at the "city" of Skjarnhold from the fair ship HMS Carp, a destroyer ferrying him from the HMS Badger to Skjarnhold. Ludwig was not too surprised by the city's less than grand appearance, he had read as extensively as he could about the Noreskans though the lack of reliable information hampered his quest. There was relatively little issue entering port with the notable exception of the Gedhrits getting uppity as Noreskan guards got too close to the prince for their liking.
Ludwig looked favorably upon the fine gifts offered, though he had to suppress a chuckle at the old Cransnikov boar, a symbol of the old days of the proud Cransnikov Clan of Saxony.
The Kern liked the look of this fellow from the south. Unlike the others he did not seem to look down his nose at everyone around him. When he greeted the prince he made it a point to look him in the eye and greet him in full proper fashion for his rank and station, and in the prince's toung with only the smallest hint of his noreskan accent breaking through. He believed the prince would be wise enough to take hid meaning, and understand better how much the Kern actually knew. In his heart the Kern hoped for a friendship with this people, he had heard only the best said of them, and their rulers. He would not let the prince be at the disadvantage going forward. Respect for respect was the Brodnish way. |
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Post by xander10 on Oct 7, 2021 1:10:33 GMT
Jon Harvey was not an amicable man, unlike his charismatic counterpart Lord Mayor Garend Marston, Mayor Jon Harvey of Tvickerland didn't exactly have the air about him to get an Emperor to sail to him after being called the king of shit. That jammy bastard, he'd have to find a way to wipe that smug grin off of Marston's face somehow, and now while Marston got to look like a great statesman, he was sent to this blasted backwater... Having travelled in as much luxury as possible, commandeering the Garend Marston itself, Jon Harvey was well rested and ready for the next step of his mission. Due to her large size, The Garend Marston was kept offshore and Mayor Harvey was transferred safely to her Pancake Class Escort for the last short distance. Landing in Skjarnhold, Harvey was unimpressed by what he saw, but polite nonetheless, he was a guest afterall. At least the military presence was what was expected for a dignitary of his importance. He greeted the soldiers initially with a polite nod, though hastened seeing how dirty they were with soot, in an effort to meet with the Kern as soon as damned possible. Before him stood a rather short, if strong looking man, who through at least five different translators introduced himself as the Kern he had come to meet, who then handed him a pistol, far less advanced than the Bentall-Fletcher he already was carrying, but well made nonetheless. At least he'd have something to boast to that Big Mouth Marston about. Aethelred Vertorixx put on a careful display as he greeted his guests. These show pieces and the display of his translators was a calculated if cumbersome cherade. Naturally he wanted his guests to feel they had the advantage, which was true in many way. But the wealth of knowledge they had already brought to his shores was exactly what he had hoped for. Modernization, his driving desire since his election. As he shook the good Mayor's hand he quickly and briefly glanced down at the device on the dignitary's hip. He must remember to have the photographers take a picture with his new guests, For posterity of course. The Ships were another thing he hoped they were proud and boastful enough to let be photographed. Every little bit helped. He hid a smirk as he listened to the conversation between his translators and his guests, he had spent the better part of the last decade eagerly consuming every scrap of text and every mechanical and industrial expert from these nations he cpuld get his hands on. But the game was afoot now, and if he was to take his nation forward a certain status quo needed to be established. Benine barbarian, undeveloped, nieve. Get them to help him out of pride, arrogance, or altruism. Behind his polite smile the machinations of a man ... who in a ruthless and underhanded political hierarchy, had won and maintained the top, worked tirelessly. "Good sir, if you think that the Sadaler Ship is impressive, take a gander at ours" Pointing to the massive ship looming in the distance, sounding it's horn as it continued it's tireless journey to deliver mail around the world. "Nothing finer than her on any sea" Harvey boasted. "Our ship might be small, but a few pokes from its guns and she'll be begging us to stop." Haarsfrauja Robert said from behind a shit eating grin "Anyway," Harvey said while rolling his eyes. "Anyway, let us see the city then." Jon Harvey then found himself directed to a lovely woman named Detter, tall and charming, who was to be his Chaperone for his time here, a place very different from Tvickerland. |
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