«12. . .8,1568,1578,1588,1598,1608,1618,162. . .8,2698,270»
OOC: Hello, second edit of the map (This one uses Polandballs) https://i.imgur.com/yeBcLrq.png
I hope you like it
Lionsmarchk, Veradax, Mlg gaming, Grossschwaben, and 1 otherSaeloun hanguk
OOC: You are a true talented gentleperson and scholar
OOC: It wasn't that hard to make, but, thank you.
OOC: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=CASGNmf0Pec
"Great to meet you all! It's so wonderful that so many foreigners such as yourselves have taken interest in our academy on this day!" Her whole body leaned to the side, and leaned towards the other side while nodded at each of the three guests, softly saying to herself with each nod, "Nephyx... giant hat Sakada... metal one Rhakely." She did it once more in the opposite direction, though this time in her mind. Lisa stood straight and tall once more when she was finished, raising her voice to her original level, "Alright! Now that I have your names memorized I think we should begin with the tour! For the first destination I think you three should decide on what interests you the most!" She began counting with her fingers, looking off a bit to the sky, "There is the wards for all the different specializations: Enhancement, Emission, Transmutation, Manipulation, Conjuration, and Specialization. The lecture rooms where the professors go over magic history and famous mages throughout Vespergale and how magic has changed society for the better. The tutoring hall, where students help each other with subjects or try to aid in forming the student's unique magical ability. Classes on how you can mix multiple magic specializations efficiently to play off of your natural mana type. Even special courses where instead of making a unique magic you try to make something applicable to industry. For example nearly all of the lights on campus and even around Vespergale I'd like to say have been made by mages of that sort. Oh, and there is also Mr. Tops. He's requested to meet foreigners interested in magic for some kind of business proposal thing... I don't really know, he blathers on a lot." Her eyes finally returned to earth. "Anywho! Any of those things interest you? If not I have even more on my trusty pamphlet!" She pulled out a pamphlet from her jacket pocket, one that she strangely didn't have out when listing off things they could see.
Hey, whats up every body?
Artaman Lullaby
Klagenfurt, Carinthia, May 21st, 2020, 21:54
A low, mechanical whir of a desk fan was the only company Volkskommissar Wilhelm Bär had as he shifted through the folders concerning the well-being of his personal fiefdom. He looked through dozens of documents that were sent from within the accounting departments from both Welthauptstadt Berlin and Vienna, detailing how much of the state's resources would go into back to the capital to be used for expenditures. Iron, steel, coal, every resource that could be drained from the state was carefully examined in these two documents, with the former's precise number crunching and the latter's attempt to find a solution to skim a few resources off the top from the shipments to the mother country. The Volkskommisar's tired eyes only scanned each of the documents for a moment, before lazily throwing each into a growing pile of similar beige-colored folders on his desk. Folders of management, policing, and the varying warlords surrounding Germania. The Volksarmee has been in a constant struggle on the border, fending off raids and assaults day after day. The Reich seemed far from the glory days of his youth, perhaps even beginning a slow descent. The man's emerald gaze then moved upwards to the young man sitting across his desk, frowning a bit at the intellectual Wilhelm spoke in a raspy voice. "Doctor Miyano, your project is-..?" The last hope for the Volksrepublik to remain independent, to not be swallowed up by its bigger sister, it was the last hope to rekindle the Germanian warrior before it subsides into complacency. That's what the older warhawk believed, at least, the Volkskommisar hoped this young doctor felt the same.
After a few seconds, another voice spoke up to add another sound against the desk fan. "On schedule, even with being understaffed and with a limited budget." The Japanese-Germanian could barely hide behind his displeasure of the disregard for his project, even as they continuously prodded him about his progress. Miyano's gaze drifted off to the pictures and artifacts on the wall from wars and battles past, as the Volkskommisar certainly enjoyed his trophies, from an IDF beret, a piece of an Agnosicstani flag, to a Commonwealth infantry helmet, and down to an older Germanian unit patch that he used to wear. A distinguished service of a celebrated soldier turned commander, surely. But, that didn't stop him from receiving the Doctor's ire as Miyano's gaze returned to the old veteran. As soon as the Doctor's brown eyes met the Volkskommisar's dark green gaze, Wilhelm continued. "You're doing a service to your country by completing this project, and your people."
"My people?" Came a quick, inquisitive, and unfiltered query. The Volkskommisar rolled his eyes as he stood up to stretch his legs, moving to look out the window at the city's night skyline. The rows of governmental buildings barely shielding the view of the samey apartment blocks beyond. "Yes, your people. If you haven't noticed yet, my friend, you're not exactly Germanian."
"The passport in my apartment says otherwise, Volkskommisar."
"Completing this project will certainly help the other Japanese minorities living in the Reich, even if they already have that 'honorary Artaman' title." The Volkskommisar ignored the man's comment, thinking it as a childish deflection. "Well, we're getting off-topic, Doctor." Although, that deflection got to Wilhelm more than he realized as he began to feel a small burning inside his chest. The rising anger caused a vein on the forehead of the older man began to bulge out, to which he lifted his index and middle finger to gingerly rub the area as if he had come down with a sudden headache. It was best for both of them to move away from it, and quickly if Wilhelm didn't want a shouting match. "I called you here to tell you, in person, that the Committee wants the project wrapped up by the end of the month. I'm sur-." Before he could continue any further, Miyano quickly cut him off. "You can't be serious, Volkskommisar! We're talking about a groundbreaking project, a massive leap forward in science, and you want it to be done in a week?! This isn't some report on how to allocate funding! It's-...!" The aging man held up a hand to stop the Doctor from continuing, cutting him off in turn. "It's not in my hands to decide your timeframe anymore, Doctor, from your reports you seem to have it well in hand to finish by the end-date. We both know from our experience and tired eyes that sleep is only a momentary distraction from duty." The Volkskommisar looked back towards the younger man with a smirk crawling across his lip. "I believe that's all I have for you, you're dismissed for now, Doctor." Wilhelm then pointed towards the door, before moving to sit back at his desk. "Sieg Heil." He said lazily as he slumped down into his chair, grabbing a cigar to light it. The Doctor simply repeated the words before making a quick exit into the almost quiet night-time streets of the city.
Miyano walked with his gaze towards the rain-soaked asphalt, a smile crossing his face as he walked through a puddle. There was still some childlike bemusement in doing it, he mused as he raised his eyes to scan the other pedestrians out this late. Mostly scientists like himself coming back from long hours, teens returning to their home, and unfortunate, a group of uniformed Stasi moving in front of a apartment complex. He averted his gaze to the sky, for while there were no stars he could just make out the dimmed flashes of artillery near the border. The third attack this week, and yet again, the raiders wouldn't make it past the first line. The propaganda always painted them as dumb brutes, bent on destroying the values of Germania as well as her culture and people. He believed it, how could he not? If he didn't, the Stasi would surely be knocking on his door soon enough since it was legend that they knew exactly what you thought at every waking moment. Perhaps that's why he looked around the emptying streets and still felt thousands of eyes bearing down onto him, the incessant feeling of being monitored, every movement logged and stored to use against you later. Only when you worked on something did you feel free, for the state wouldn't grab you while you're doing something useful. Miyano thought on that for only a moment before he shut it out of his mind and glanced around. After he was sure he wasn't about to be grabbed for wrongthink, he kept walking for his apartment building with a purposefully empty mind.
The Overlord's Word
For weeks now there had been copious amounts of traffic between Nightstrum and 
Beichte in the far northern reaches of their countries, trucks filled to the brim with material and orcs crossing the border into northern Nightstrum where they headed towards the coast. And yet, despite the magnitude of the operation which was being undertaken, they as well as their Nightstrumian contacts, took great care to keep everything under wraps. The trucks drove only at night, staying the day on remote or walled private property before continuing their ride the next night. Tarpaulins had been draped over their backs to hide who or what was ferried through the country in the back and the windows of the driver's cabin were tinted, not giving one the ability to see inside.
At the same time the border skirmishes flared up again as the Overlord sent the Atteldari in in force to continue the hunt for the Huntresses that were hunting them, as well as provide as distraction from the convoys which were making it through the border and into the country.
Their first destination was the northern coast, up where it was cold and inhospitable, where hopefully there would be few witnesses and those there were could be silenced. Ships had already been provided, their contacts having hired what was necessary for the Overlord's minions to continue their journey. And so the coastal towns of northern Nightstrum bustled with activity every night as the convoys entered and cruel creatures occupied the docks, shouting and screaming orders and instructions in their foreign tongues as cranes and muscles moved immense amounts of cargo from the trucks on the docks onto the ships which entered the towns every day and left every night.
But one thing was not a secret. The final destination of these ships, noted in the registers of the harbours. Each ship, loaded with cargo and orcs, had the same destination. A destination towards the east, on the other side of the Katharos Ocean. Aurelia. Or more specifically, the lands of 
The New Changeling Empire. The Overlord had given the Empress of the Changelings its word that it would rebuild Valcouria. And rebuild it it would, regardless how many men and material it had to sent to the east.
Dimachaerus, in orbit over Hollow Shades
Lady Inquisitor Trixie swirled the glass of amasec as she sat across from the stallion who was simultaneously one of her greatest rivals and closest allies. “So glad you could join me for a meal, Lady Lulamoon. I know your studies of the Hollow Shades site have occupied most of your resources so I would like to thank you again for helping me confirm my suspicions about the Earth Pony my agent rescued along with his mistress.” Skia said, tipping his cup in her direction before sipping from it which she responded to with a small grunt. “I only accepted because the fort’s cook was going to make his ‘famous’ Yakyakistani soup.” She coolly replied as she also drank. “But I’m sure you had another reason to lure me up here, nothing’s ever straightforward with you, Kicker.”
The Pegasus chuckled. “Alright, you have me for once.” He clapped his hooves together as another came in and gave the powder blue Unicorn a data pad. “Nobody groundside has noticed yet but the planet has shifted slightly and older maps are transforming to match. Doesn’t matter if they’re on paper, in a cogitator or carved into a slab of rock. Is there something in the Warp that could do this and in such a passive, nondestructive way?” Skia asked as she examined the report. “Not that I’ve encountered before. When daemons change a planet, they do it with pizzazz and violence, not subtlety.” Trixie took out her own data pad as she continued to look over the findings. “The wards haven’t been tripped but my maps have still been changed. If this is the work of a daemon, it’s one crafty enough to find a way around wards instead of smashing through like most of their kind does. Unsettling to think of at the least.” She stepped back from the table, tucking the pads into her coat. “I’d thank you for bringing this to my attention but you’ve also just made my workload that much worse.” “You’re not leaving, are you? Dinner hasn’t even started yet.” Skia smirked as Trixie stared at him, taking another sip of amasec as she slowly sat back down. “I hate you.” She muttered, making him laugh. “My my, such a rude dinner guest.”
Bids for the Veradacian-Umbraen
After a period of hotly contested competition between cities following the announcement by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs that the nation would be hosting a cultural fair with the nation of Umbraen, the results have come in and the winning city has been chosen. Imery will be the host of the Cultural Fair, though due to there only being four international airports in the country, any guests from Umbraen will be landing at the city of Copnre. From there they will have be able to travel by way of train to the creative capital of Veradax. They will also be able to enjoy the Emerald Springs National Park - established in 1901 by Executor Zayan to protect the nation's largest rainforest. All visitors will receive temporary IDs so that they do not have to carry the infinitely more sensitive passport for identification purposes.
Here are the top ten cities that bid to host the cultural fair:
- 1. Imery
2. Coprne
3. New Xeres
4. Epadena
5. Ylumont
6. Utrey
7. Ciygan
8. Ukrehtol
9. Xivane
10. Yhuodraso
OOC: This is just a bit of setup to keep things going while I think of how exactly to run this.
If the Dark Imperium were to move onto their neighbours then there was no time like the present, and the leader of the miniscule band of pirates that had spent the past few months shipping heroin across the Halkuon Ocean into Aurelia turned the attention of his patrol boat escort to the uptick in cargo ship traffic making its way west. The irregularity and frequency of the ships - not to mention the sizeable population of orcs aboard - certainly hadn't gone unnoticed to the prospective raiders, who had no idea where it was going but didn't care, seeking to reap whatever rewards were aboard for themselves. Trade didn't happen in Gotischland outside of crime syndicates and black markets, and so this would be an absolute boon for the rotting carcass of a country that resembled more a graveyard than a respectable nation of any kind at this point. Happening upon one such cargo ship once it came into range, three Svetlyak-class patrol boats went into full speed towards it in arrow formation and the leading boat shouted towards it through a megaphone.
"ATTENTION GENTLEMEN: ALL OF YOUR CARGO IS FORFEIT. SURRENDER YOURSELVES AND WE SHALL HAVE MERCY."
The vaguely Slavic accent rang out through the scratchy quality of the bullhorn, 14.5mm guns training onto the deck in case they caught anybody attempting a brave defence. A boarding party of about twenty-two heavily armed and dangerous murderers, rapists and asylum patients were ready within the passenger holds of two of the ships, eager to relieve the monotony of the past few weeks in a most macabre and gruesome fashion.
"Interesting, different specialties, and different mana types." Nephyx mused. "We only have the one, though we have certain inclinations that somewhat align with your specialities." The group became immersed in silent conversation before Nephyx spoke again. "We'll go see this, Mr. Tops. No need to bother the professors while they have magelings to teach." Sakada seemed to give her a look. "Sorry, students, not magelings. You'll have to pardon my phrases, I don't typically go outside the laboratories, never mind the monastery. Sakada's really the only one here with much experience in the outside world."
Sakada spoke, his voice has a soft, brassy texture to it. "What is your specialty, young one? From what you've told us, precious few here have any sort of broad skill set." The tapping of his staff on the floor was metronomic in consistency, his steps precisely placed. Rhakely had the same sort of precision in her movements, though Nephyx did not.
Diplomatic Missive to 
Island Zero
To whom it may concern,
The HMFI has recently developed an interest in maritime life and wishes to study it in an extensive manner. Knowing Island Zero's isolated position within the world's oceans as well as having heard rumours about the rather interesting maritime life around it, the HMFI would very much like to conclude a deal with any scientific institutions or fisheries on Island Zero about the trade of certain maritime lifeforms to further swabian research and knowledge of the world's oceans.
Sincerely.
Prof. Dr. Baron Barry Fritz von Wissmar.
OOC: But they're going east?
The Svetlyak-class patrol boats had been spotted by the crew almost as early as the cargo freighter had been by the Gotische. A fact reported to the commanding officer of the orcs on board, a Captain Morosh. But an alarm was not raised as the Overlord had demanded civility of its servants once abroad. And on the sea was sort of abroad afterall, wasn't it?
A cautionary alarm was raised as the patrol boats came close enough to make out details with binoculars. Specifically 14,5mm guns and a bunch of craven looking, heavily armed men. Radio messages were relayed back to both the port they had come from as well as to Shul Prindonam, notifying their superiors of suspicious vessels closing in on them.
Though it was not untill the boats closed in and demanded their and their cargo's surrender that a full alarm was raised, sirens starting to blare across the ship, new radio messages being sent, confirming an attempted assault by unidentified hostiles, likely pirates. Captain Morosh was quick to whack his orcs out of their quarters and sent the entire force on deck where they were to take defensive positions. Defensive positions intentionally further away from the railings as the first orc stepping up to the railings, howling and waving his rifle in the air was immediately pulverized by some 14,5mm.
Positioning themselves along the center line of the ship, weapons trained on the railings, waiting for a Gotische head to pop up to blast it, Captain Morosh thought it prudent to release a statement of his own, shouting into his own megaphone:
"ATTENTION MAGGOTS! STAY THE F### OFF OUR SHIP AND WE PROMISE YOU WON'T BE OUR DINNER TONIGHT!"
As he lowered the megaphone again, one of the orcs next to him looked up, hunger in his eyes as he asked:
"Ya don't mean that, do ya Capt'n? Would be kinda neat to have some good ol' man-flesh here. We ain't allowed to touch them tender Nightstrummers' thighs afterall..."
But Captain Morosh stayed hard, quickly whacking the orc in question before shouting:
"Sod off ya maggot! I'm s'pposed to get this cargo through an' not bother with some lil' sods unless they wanna bother me."
Not long after, Island Zero responds to Grossschwaben, claiming that the trade of maritime lifeforms is acceptable and would be beneficial to both nations. It also claims that a deal regarding the trade will be concluded. Any further information regarding these lifeforms can also be provided.
Edward was certain he was being followed. The streets were empty, cold, wet, and dark as they always were when he left the office. His walk home was always quiet save for the thunderstorms that seemed to roar overhead in near-constancy. The sound of water falling to pavement, thumping upon metal, and joining their fellow rain drops in the puddles that littered the streets. Why did it always rain in this accursed city? All the cities were lucky to get any rainfall, but not Tambor. It always rained in Tambor. The city was perpetually drenched. Edward was used to it, though. All Tamborians were. He was used to the sounds and feelings of walking home through a heavy downpour. But this time was different. There was another sound coming from not far behind him. Footsteps. First he thought they were echoes of his own, but then they grew louder. He knew then that they were not. Who else could be out at this hour, in this weather, so close to him? For any other city, in any other country, it may not be unusual, but for Tambor, in Kriegizstan, it was. Kriegizstan - it was a place of pure order. Everyone had their own schedules; they did the same things every day. Perhaps differently some times, but their schedules rarely changed. To be disorganized in such a way was unsightly. The Autocrat would not approve. No, there should have been no one here. Not at this time. Not so close to him. Edward was certain this person was following him. But why? Who? Not a beggar, for the beggars hid under the underpasses when it rained. Not a prostitute, for the whores did not venture this far from the Red Light District and would never go out in this weather. There were only two possibilities he could think of. Of the two, he hoped it was a robber. The robber would take what he wanted and then leave, or maybe even kill him. That was good. That was better. It was the alternative he shuddered. The alternative he feared.
And his fears were proven right as a hand came down upon his shoulder. He stopped dead in his tracks. "Turn around." an aging, raspy voice demanded. He did as instructed. His eyes widened and his mouth gaped with horror. It was no foul creature or wicked beast, but something far worse. A man. A pale man. The whole nation knew him; they knew the pale man and knew to fear him. Knew to avoid him. Edward almost broke down and cried as he stared into the cold, pink eyes of the albino man. They were filled with hate and judgement. The pale man looked ancient. His face was stuck in a permanent scowl. "The Autcorat is benevolent." the old man stated in a hateful tone. "When you err it is He that gives you a second chance." he shouted, practically spitting at Edward, though it was difficult to tell as the rain drenched them both. The pale man stepped forward, coming inches away from Edward's terrified face. "See that you utilize it wisely." Edward shut his eyes in fear. "I will, sir! I am sorry, sir! Please forgive me, sir! I will not err again - you have my word!" Edward pleaded. He knew there was no use in denying his betrayal; the State knew all things. The State saw all things. The Autocrat knew all things. The Autocrat saw all things. Edward knew his mistake, his treason. He felt regret then when he committed it, and felt it now even more so. "It is not forgiveness you must seek." the pale man chastised before leaning in closer to Edward's ear. "It is the Autocrat's." he whispered before pulling away. "Long Live the Autocrat. Glory to Kriegizstan." The pale man said. "Long Live the Autocrat! Glory to Kriegizstan!" Edward kept his eyes shut firmly as he echoed the sentiment. He did not open them for several moments, until there was a eerie silence. The rain had stopped. He opened his eyes, just barely, only to see the pale man was gone. Edward never heard him leave. He looked around, frantically, yet saw no sign of the man. He had he even been there? Where did he go? Edward pushed the thoughts out of his mind as he returned to his route home.
Edward took the man's words to heart. He knew to fear the pale man. He knew to fear the Right Hand of the Autocrat.
OOC: Very interesting. A schism forming between different Hater groups would certainly be interesting - and probably something Starfall wouldn't take too well... Not that they could do anything overt about it, their power having been broken by their disastrous Crusade.
OOC: I'm honestly waiting for the church to try and jump Ata while he's on his little side quest. And the tree church, must make the tree church.
Despoticania, Mlg gaming, and Chicken kingdom
OOC: Makes me wonder... Is it safe to even observe an Idea Realm intruding into our reality without causing some kind of nasty quantum wave function collapse...?
Preparation for the Cultural Fair
Things were going acceptably, at least to the overseer of the fair, Iori Yanai. She had been chosen due to her experience as a curator and at least in part due to the fact that she was a woman, and the Umbraens seemed to have more respect for them than men, or at least were just a matriarchal society.
The fair would be taking place in a large single story convention hall, the place looked a bit like a furnished aircraft hangar with the height and shape of the ceiling though. All sorts of decorative banners were being hung up in the rafters, above people’s heads but still there to give the proper sense of grandeur. The fair was divided in half, with the right half of the hall being reserved for Umbraen displays, and the left half being reserved for Veradacian displays, which were already accumulating. Up against the back wall were all sorts of religious displays, with the Church of Transcendental Hatred’s displays in the corner, followed by the Acolytes of Pathosis, and then the Alynic displays. Yanai had had some issues with the Church of Transcendental Hatred, she certainly didn’t want one of their more devout members in charge of the displays. It had been a battle, but she convinced them to let one of their more moderate priests curate their displays. The Acolytes were never a problem, they didn’t proselytize and their librarians were mostly kind and respectful people. The Alynites wouldn’t be as problematic, she hoped. From the limited information she had, the Umbraens certainly worships some goddess of some form.
The religious displays were mostly artwork, with a some texts and scrolls open to certain sections. Of course, then there was the Church of Transcendental Hatred which had weapons displayed alongside a meticulously tended bonsai acacia tree. Of course the Haters had to bring in some of their expertly crafted weapons. While they were certainly showy, they could be used in combat, Yanai was sure some of them had been used in combat.
Along the left wall there were displays of literature, of various forms, mostly nonfiction, sci fi, fantasy, and mystery genres. In between the two were various forms of art, a row of paintings of various styles, a row of architectural models and plans, a row of statues and other sculptures, and a row of clothes of various fashions. The front was occupied by historical artifacts from various periods. As it was their fair, Yanai also had the distinct pleasure of putting together a playlist of veradacian songs for ambient sound, though since most people probably wouldn’t be able to hear it, there was a dedicated room for that. There was also a kitchen in the back, food and drink was a fairly significant part of Veradacian Culture, though the chefs wouldn’t be at work until the day of the fair. Opening Day would be a most strenuous affair, as it was when all the bigshot VIPs were set to show up, both native, and foreign government officials. After that it would be open to the general public, and since Yanai was not a bouncer it would be easier by comparison. Though whoever screws with any of the Church’s relics best be prepared to issue the appropriate prayer, the Priest in charge of those particular relics did not look like he needed a bouncer to take care of any rowdy guests.
The Umbraen side, by contrast, was completely empty. Yanai was expecting the Umbraen displays and their appropriate curators to be showing up tomorrow, after they were set up, the fair would start two days after – time was given to allow for delays and for the airlines to work out something.
OOC: Umbraen got a post that you can respond to, you can save the details of the displays for when we actually start the fair.
Despoticania, Mlg gaming, and Umbraen
A region-wide message is being broadcast...
The static fades away from the screen revealing a shadowy figure.
It speaks:
"The All Seeing has observed and judged this region and the nations within it, we have decided it is a good place to settle"
The shadowy figure disappears. Instead the iconic Eye emblem of The All Seeing flickers in its place as Static reclaims the screen.
OOC:
I'm kinda new here, are there any requirements or rules I should know of?
OOC: Well, there's these:
- 1. Limited Resources: A nation does not have the ability to produce infinite tanks or soldiers, it has limited supplies. No autarkies that have every conceivable resource.
2. No Metagaming: Metagaming – defined as the player using their real-life knowledge of the state of the game to determine the actions of their characters, when said characters have no awareness or relevant knowledge under the circumstances – is strictly prohibited.
3. Role Play Etiquette: You cannot force someone to role play with you.
4. Magic: Magic is allowed.
5. Nation States Stats are not used for role play here. Your nation in role play is not defined by NS stats, so feel free to get creative.
6. Map: If no posts are made for an uninterrupted two week period, then a nation will be declared inactive. If a nation remains inactive for a two week long uninterrupted period, then they shall lose their spot on the map. Exceptions will be made for those that provide prior notification, we understand that people have lives.
7. No God-modding: You can only control your own characters, unless consent is given by the player whose character(s) you are (temporarily) taking control of.
- 1. Tech Levels: There are five tech levels, Past Tech(PT), Modern Tech(MT), Post Modern Tech(PMT), Future Tech(FT), and Fantasy Tech(FanT). Past tech is the loosest category, anything from the stone age to the end of world war two. Modern tech is anything from the cold war, to modern day. Post Modern Tech is defined as anything within the confines of the “Near future” that is still bound by the laws of physics. Future Tech is defined as “Far Future” and allows for things seem in space operas like handheld energy weapons and warp drives. Fantasy Tech is anything with magic. Generally it is recommended that a nation of a given tech level only interact with nations of equal tech level, or that are one tech level apart. For example a Modern tech nation can relatively easily Role play with a PT, MT, or PMT nation.
2. Mixed Nations: It is possible to have a “Mixed Nation” or one that has multiple tech levels within it. Often this takes the form of an otherwise MT or PMT nation with certain FanT elements – mostly the presence of an enclave of magic users. But it can also be applied to have a MT or PMT nation with a PT group in it.
3. Magic: While magic is allowed, it is recommended that players develop a concrete system to define it’s use. This prevents misuse and arguments in the future. This type of magic system is called a hard-magic system. An example would be eating different types of resources for different effects, or just a system where it is defined what experience/power is needed for certain spells.
4. While the region is named “The Alliance of Dictators” your nation does not have to be a dictatorship, feel free to get creative.
5. Please do have a motivation for your nation’s actions in regional role play. As an example, X Nation has gone to war with Y Nation for seemingly no reason. This situation can be fixed relatively easily, X Nation indicates that it has a historical/cultural claim on land owned by Y Nation and has gone to war to reclaim it.
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