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The Republic of Chorasia WIP Geography The geography of Chorasia can be divided into three largely distinct regions. The Republic's capital, the bustling entrepôt of Chorasia, and general economic heartland lies in the south-east, where the river Choras, from which the Republic and its capital take their name, drains into the sea of Ortassa, forming a large estuary. This estuary is made up of rich, clay fields, well suited for all manner of agriculture; partially flooded bogs and mires, which are mined for their peat; and long, sandy beaches and dunes that cover most of the actual coastline. While these lands are blessed with valuable clay and peat grounds, they are also vulnerable to floods, when summer storms push the waters of the sea of Ortassa deeper into the estuary, or when the Choras swells beyond its banks. The north and north-east of Chorasia are lined by rugged, rocky hills, interspersed with steep valleys cut out by the Choras and its tributaries. Vegetation on the hills themselves consists mostly of moss and finger-grass, and a handful of shrubs clinging to the rocky surface, while the valleys are covered by thick forests lining the rivers that flow through them. The region is known as the Howling Hills, because of the eerie sounds that can be heard when the wind blows through the steep valleys. Together with the Choras, these hills form a natural barrier against anyone trying to invade the republic from the north or north-east. Apart from a handful of trading posts, the Howling Hills are sparsely populated, mainly inhabited by scattered groups of foresters and shepherds. Going south, the hills remain, but they gradually change from rugged to rolling, until they eventually meet the sea of Ortassa. The forests remain as well, but the shrubs and moss of the Howling Hills make place for meadows and farmland. The long coastline itself consists of low, clay cliffs and the same large, sandy beaches that are found in the estuary of the Choras. Named after the distinctive red hue of the clay cliffs, the Carnelian Coast is home to several sizable port cities, which occupy the scarce few bays and inlets that provide adequate shelter against the ferocious summer storms. History The history of what would end up becoming the Chorasian Republic began several centuries before the unification of Avakonia, when the first Sea Elf sailors, adventurers and merchants arrived in the region. They founded several colonies along the Carnelian Coast and the estuary of the Choras, including Chorasia, which was named after. With the fertile clay soil providing food aplenty, and a steady stream of new arrivals hoping to strike it rich on the frontier, these colonies quickly grew from simple settlements to sizable cities. Initially, the colonies mostly traded among themselves and with their Elven homeland. However, the journey south was a long and dangerous one, and the Sea Elves, opportunistic and adventurous as they were, soon resumed their voyages of exploration, searching for safer and more profitable trade routes. Before long, ships from the city states of Avakonia and the various kingdoms bordering the Bay of Glass could be spotted along the Carnelian Coast. As the trade with the Elven homeland lost its importance, the ties between the growing city states along the Carnelian Coast and the Sea Elven kingdoms that had once founded them also began to fade, and the city states gradually developed their own unique identity.

I'm going to stake my claim on region 14 if that's okay.

Czerny arrives at the CAT offices on Friday morning dressed in a black dress shirt with matching trousers, but no hat, revealing his thinning, straight black hair. In one hand, he holds a sizable, brown leather briefcase that contains everything he needs for the trip: enough spare clothing; the necessary bathroom utensils; his passport and other important documents; his chequebook and purse; his agenda and notebook; something to read during the journey to Switzerland; and a handful of pamphlets detailing the product lineup of his chess company. Despite having wanted to do intelligence work for a long time, Czerny couldn't help but feel a little underwhelmed as he worked through the final preparations with Carrington, He knew full well he wouldn't be going on some James Bond-esque adventure, but he had been hoping for something a little more exiting than just another business trip. At least he wouldn't be travelling alone this time, like he usually did. All he knew about his partner was her name, Aubrey. Czerny was looking forward to meeting her.

Posting in general had been pretty slow before things died down, so I wouldn't too much of the blame on yourself Kylen. I'd love to get things going again, but it seems like Tiffany has left the game. You could always send her a message and see if she is still interested. Otherwise we could maybe put up another advertisement and get one or two additional members that way?

OOCI would like to play out the first meeting of Tadeusz and Aubrey, but I'm fine with skipping ahead to the train after that.

"I might have met someone going by that surename once, but the name doesn't ring a bell. Departing today is fine with me, I just need to pack my things and let my secretary know. I'll give Aubrey a call once I've taken care of everything. If by some god given miracle we don't get stuck in traffic, we can be in Paris before the end of the day.

"That's understandable. When do you want me to leave for Switzerland? And will I be working alone, or is someone going to accompany me?"

OOCOnce again my apologies for dissapearing for so long. The first two weeks after getting back from vacation were a lot more hectic than I thought they would be, but I'm finally getting back into my usual rhythym, so I hopefully shouldn't go AWOL like that again for the foreseeable future.   "That doesn't surprise me. The soviets are just as dogmatic as the church they so vehemently despise." Tadeusz said with thinly veiled disgust, then nodded at Stevie's remarks about chess. It was a fair point, and especially someone like Antonov would easily pick out an operative that was simply pretending like they knew a lot about chess, from someone that actually knew what they were talking about. "Do we know what Antonov's relationship with his father is like? You mentioned he is a higher-up in the navy. I served in the army myself, but I have my fair share of experience with the soviet military apparatus, so it might be another way to approach him."

To be honest, it never quite got off the ground.

I should have mentioned this a bit earlier, so aplogies for that, but I'm currently on vacation to Ireland. I'll try to get a reply in if I can find the time, but I can't make any guarantees. Feel free to move the story ahead without Czerny if that's easier. I'll be returning home on the 21st, after that my replies will hopefully be back to normal again.

Czerny followed Blake's gaze to the commotion outside, but payed little attention to it, his mind already focused on the task presented to him. For a start, he'd need more information on Antonov. Everyone works differently, and if he approached his target the wrong way, he'd just end up scaring him off. "What else can you tell me about Antonov? What's he like? Do we have any idea why he wants to switch sides?" Then, a more personal question struck him. "And why me? I'm a cynic, not a charmer. You should know that if you've read my file."

Phil Bromlin Phil sighed and pinched his nose when Molly, once again, won the pot. This was why he hated poker. Just as he was trying to come up with a snarky reply to Hondo's complaining, to vent his own frustration at the poker game, their clients arrived. "Hopefully you like this band better." He said to Hondo, as he recognized who had sat down in front of them. Digging in to his chicken wings, Phil listened to what the Deltas had to say. As George and Larry gave their little talk, he couldn't quite hide his surprise, both at the fact that these wings were actually pretty spicy, and about what the two band members were getting at. Helping a famous band to get out of a record deal they were having second thoughts about hadn't even crossed his mind as something they might end up doing for their first job. "You'd think after all these years musicians would've learned to be more careful around big corporate and their greedy record labels." He mumbled to no one in particular. "So where do we come into the picture. Seems to me like you need a contract lawyer, and you aren't going to find one here." Phil responded. He had a feeling the band were looking for something a little more radical and a little less legal, but he didn't want to make any assumptions.

Czerny nodded at Blake's remark. "That's true. Perhaps the Soviets didn't take the talks as serious as the Americans, if they sent Kosygin instead of Brezhnev. But who knows." Scanning the leaflet that Blake had handed to him, he nodded again. "I've heard about the tournament in Biel. If I'm not mistaken, it's the first edition of the tournament. And yes, Grand Master is the highest title that a chess player can attain. But Pyotr Antonov doesn't ring a bell. There are dozens of Soviet Grandmasters, and even more Soviet chess players that are trying to become a Grand Master. What makes this guy special?"

Czerny waded through the crowd as quickly as he could without upsetting anyone, and took a seat opposite of the dark haired woman. "Good afternoon, Blake." He greeted her, and then waved over a server. When his order for a sandwhich and a cup of tea had been taken, he turned his attention back to Blake. The cover of the Time magazine she was reading, featuring a picture of the US president and the Premier of the Soviet Union, caught his attention. "So, what are the yankees writing about Johnson's and Kosygin's little get together in Glassboro?"

Phil Bromlin Still dressed in his stained, dark blue, protective jumpsuit, his face smudged with oil, Phil was the odd one out at the poker table. His head buried in one hand, the other hand incessantly toying with his credits, the mechanic was muttering to himself about outs, draw percentages and rivers. Some people called poker a game of skill, yet his calculations would never quite add up. It was why he didn't like the game much, but it killed the time, and kept some of his more intrusive thoughts away. Startled from his pondering by the server and Hondo's urges, Phil quickly scanned the menu. "A double shot of vodka for me, and the uhh... spicy supernova chicken wings?" He liked spicy food, because much like being occupied with a poker game, it kept his mind from wandering too much. But for some reason it was always marketed with the most overly dramatic or corny names possible. And most of the time the food barely lived up to its name. Like a lot of things in life, if you wanted it done well, you'd have to do it yourself. With the groups order taken, Phil turned his attention back towards the poker game and Molly. "You are either really lucky, really bold, or both." He said, a hint of annoyance in his voice, before he shoved a sizeable stack of credits towards the pot. If he had done his math properly, this should be a safe bet, but he had a bad feeling about it.