[b][h3]East Koniginsberg, Northern Manitoba, Gottesland[/h3][/b]
[img]https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/c9/MathareValleySlum.jpg[/img]

[b]	The filthiest slum in Gottesland, stretching as far as the eye could see, lay beneath a bleak, cloudy sky. In the centre of town, thousands of agitated citizens shuffled around, amassing around a small wooden stage, with a sole figure standing on it.[/b]

	"Dear President Koln, and Prime Minister Steinmann. It is the ongoing wish of the British people, whom you continually trample upon with your barbaric restrictions and customs, to be given full sovereignty over their own lands. Segregated and self sustaining as we are, your continued violent law enforcement betrays your regime for what it really is. You are nothing short of a foreign, imperial dictatorship, and my people will not stand for it. The British people are as stalwart as they are ancient. Our unbroken lineage has been synonymous with independence and distinction for millennia, dating back to the establishment of the oldest, and most enduring kingdom in the history of the world. To deny the potency and perfection of the English language in your parliament, and to suppress the free expression of individuality that our ancestors gifted to humanity, is to spit in the face of a lion!"
	
	Victoria Albertasdottir, clad in a flowing, bright red cotton dress, polished jewelry hanging from each limb, spoke with an unwavering confidence, upon her rickety wooden platform. The massive crowd of unwashed peasants stood before her, in complete silence. It was unlikely they understood half of what she was saying, but they nonetheless hung on her every word. She was a figure of authority, and a strikingly beautiful one at that. As her speech continued, the only other audible sound was her scribe, typing away on a rusty typewriter. This was to be her sternest declaration yet. With any luck, it would incite further heavy-handedness from the government, increasing her popularity even further.

	"It is with this understanding, of our own innate superiority, that we, the British people, demand equal representation in Parliament."

	She paused, to emphasize the importance of this demand to her uneducated audience. Gracefully brushing a few strands of long, blond hair from her face, she continued.

	"It is with this understanding, of our countless invaluable gifts to humanity, that we, the British people, demand complete self-governance over our cities."

	Again she paused, taking a moment to bask in the look of incredulous awe that sat on the faces of her followers.

	"It is with this understanding, of the purity of our language and culture, that we, the British people, demand [i]freedom[/i]!"

	With this, she thrust one fair, slender fist into the air. The crowd exploded in applause, roaring with enthusiasm. She gave a bow, as her guards, clad in red wool jackets, swiftly escorted her from the stage. The masses parted like the Red Sea as her entourage moved toward them. She smirked as a wave of ecstatic self-adoration surged through her. The dust-covered masses shrieked and bellowed with joy as she blew kisses at them.

	Coming up from behind her, and hopping into the circle of red-clad guards, Sir James Painter joined the briskly marching celebrity.

	"Your best speech yet, m'lady."

	"Well I should hope so", she responded quietly. "It's about damn time we took this to Argyllsberg."

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

[b][h3]Prime Minister's Office, Parliament, Argyllsberg[/h3][/b]
[img]http://i.cbc.ca/1.2138865.1382506623!/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/16x9_460/tp-supremecourt-cbc.jpg[/img]

	A middle-aged, suspendered man, sporting a greasy beard and a sizable bald spot, frantically rifled through hand-written letters on his large, oak desk.

	"[i]Verdammt[/i]", the Prime Minister hissed, before grabbing hold of a faded note, tucked near the bottom of the stack. "Aha!", he exclaimed.

	"So which one is this?", asked a stern, red-headed man sitting across from him.

	"[i]Zis is zie vun frhom Vest Koniginsberg[/i]", Steinmann responded through his thick Germanic accent, skimming over the page. "[i]Two dead, sree voonded. Zey haf fallen bek to zie Koniginsberg military base[/i]."

	The Prime Minister's guest furrowed his brow. "May I?", he asked, gesturing toward the letter.

	"[i]Ja, ja[/i]", Steinmann nodded, passing it across the table. "[i]Vut do you sink?[/i]"

	"I think...", the man responded, his eyes darting across the page, "that it's time for a blitz. The longer we leave this alone, the worse it's going to get. We need to stamp the whole thing out, and fast."

	"[i]You know zis will be a hard sell to zie Gutteslander leut. Zey von't put up wit zie violence.[/i]"

	"This is an easy story to tell, Lukas. They've already killed two officers. Any action we take, from now on, is a defensive action. Let's use this excuse to end this problem right now."

	"[i]Yes, yes, I will put zie vord out. Ve'll get posters up, send out vhornings und notices.[/i]"

	"Good man. Now if you'll excuse me, I think it's time I checked in on our dear neighbours."

	"Goot luck, Mister President", Steinmann proclaimed with a wave.

	"Likewise", MacFearghus-Koln grunted, as he let himself out.


[hider=To Michigan]
Dear Mister Governor General, 

	I am writing to you regarding our increasingly militaristic neighbours to the south. It is the belief of the Hutterish people, that a nation is most prosperous when it is secure. When money need not be spent of fighting off invading savages, the nation's infrastructure can be expanded, and society as a whole can prosper.
	As such, I am proposing a military pact of mutual security and prosperity. In the event that either of us is on the defending side of an armed conflict, internal or external, we would be obligated to come to one another's aid. Coupled with this agreement, I propose a prohibition be placed on tariffs between our two nations, and a formalized trade rout be established. We are both prosperous, growing nations. Let's benefit from each other's prosperity, and share in our mutual bounty of food and resources.
	With this letter, I am sending one of our finest bilingual emissaries, Jacob Fritz. He is prepared to clarify any questions you have about our nation, and to return with the utmost haste with your response.

Regards,
-Pat MacFearghus-Koln,
President, Gottesland
[/hider]


[hider=To The League of First Peoples]
Mister Secretary,

	I am writing to you on this occasion with regard to our vastly expanding neighbours to the east. A great many of them are increasingly militarized and imperialistic, and could pose a major threat to our nations. 
	For the sake of mutual security and prosperity, I propose a defensive military pact between our two great nations. In the event of armed conflict, our military might will be unified against the aggressor. Coupled with this, I further recommend the establishment of a formalized trade network between our two nations. Not only will we find security in the face of our neighbours, but we can advance and prosper ahead of them. Our country, which has an excess of non-perishable, would very much like to exchange this bounty for some of your mineral and metal stockpile. Surely, such an agreement would aid us both greatly.
	With this letter, I am sending one of my best emissaries, Frank Houk, to clarify any questions you may have about our nation, and to ferry your response back to Gottesland.

Regards,
Pat MacFearghus-Koln
President, Gottesland
[/hider]