Event -- A Dinner in Ienecia

Hersir Ki Rah speaks.
"The Victorians are pushovers, they should not have so easily allowed their leader to sign away their freedom. The Keshbob City States are little better."

"We must say we are just confused to what happened. And can't take a side"

"If a nation halfway across the world wishes to give away its independence on a whim, then let it. That is my philosophy." The Grand Prince takes a sip of wine.

A besuited kerb emerges into the hall, apologising for his lateness. He introduces himself as Dragan III, King of Gabrili.

"Ah, it's good that you could arrive. Please, have a seat and some wine; we were just discussing events in Calcania."

"Have you heard the Victorians have already asked to leave? I don't imagine the rest of it has much longer to live..."

"Your Majesty, I'm happy to see you here. Yes, that was an union burn under the wrong auspices, this end is just what was expected from it. I wonder what the Fermatians reaction would be."

A package arrives at the dining location. It is adressed to all of the attendees. On it, there is a small message:

"In the interests of global peace, we wish you all well and offer you all a bottle of wine, and some chocolates.

- The Mountain Republic of Njapontor."

A kerb in a suit, fresh from a security check, flanked by a pair of security officers, walks into the room. "Sorry I'm late gentlekerbs, was held up trying to get off the boat. I'm Sir Clifford Reboten, personal guest of Njegošlja, representative of the World Automotive Gran Prix Association and the global automotive industries. If you all don't mind, I have a few points to bring to your attention, just a few things."

The Espanjantan Committee of Foreign Relations arrives to the party with all the fanfare of an aging couple. They quickly move towards the various checkpoints, and hope for a guide to get them up to date!

"Ah, yes, I was wondering when you would be arriving. By all means, go ahead, though this is not an advertising meeting."

The Espanjantan Committee is also welcomed in, and the wine and chocolates are places on the table. The Grand Prince tries one.

"I have two matters to bring to your attention, the first is an up and coming international sporting league, serving to foster friendly competition between nations without anything hostile, and the second is a matter of utmost urgency with the automotive industry and a huge issue they're encountering with governments worldwide that needs to find an agreement. Any preference?"

"The second one sounds like just a bit more of a priority."

"Yes, good kerb, you understand! Well, we all know the plight of the automobile, miniature explosions to cause propulsion kerbkind had never seen before on such a personal level! Well, there's one problem. The fuel of the engines itself is formulated to fit legal boundaries that twist and contort for no good reason. The current fuel causes the engines to wear out and die almost five times faster, as well as actually produces more toxic gases. We have a simple additive to add to the fuel that will decrease engine wear and toxic fumes, but we have not been able to add it to global fuel reserves simply because of rules against additives for fears of diluting gasoline. We simply need governments to allow our fuel additive, and owning cars will be so much cheaper and so much cleaner."

"And how much are you asking for this additive of yours?"

"We're asking for nothing in terms of cost to you, as the additive is made by the fuel companies themselves. We simply wish for reduction in the choking grip of legislature against dilution that prevents additives."

"Hm. I will definitely discuss this with my council, then, but I am afraid that I do not personally make the decisions on gasoline production, and I worry that the loosening of those additive laws might allow the less ethical to dilute the gasoline, as you have said.

"What is the matter relating to friendly competition? It is perhaps more suited to tonight's activities."

"Ah yes, my other representative duty. I also represent the World Automotive Gran Prix Association, a group dedicated to providing a sporting league that fosters friendly competition. It is an up-and-coming racing league, in which countries sponsor a race car and it's team. From there, we run a five-race one-year season, in which the entry fees are divided up into prizes for 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place, which is also paid out to the nations sponsoring. All the cars are built around a specific template, in order to keep things fair and safe. Interested? Furthermore, nations can also build tracks for us, which serve as tourist attractions, bringing in possible income for a good race."

Another large seaplane is seen on the horizon, and it is soon recognized as Oresean from the small roundel on the side. The seaplane lands nearby the others, and a small boat ferries Emperor Lisakki II, two security agents, a gourmet chef, and some men carrying goods. Soon, the group arrives at the dinner.

"Good evening; I'm terribly sorry for arriving late, so I have brought some apology gifts." He gestures at two kerbs carrying crates.
"One contains famous Lampiun wine, acclaimed for growing on our colony it was named after. The sub-desert maritime climate serves as the perfect environment for wineries. The other contains assorted chocolates, and I'm sure the guests will love them."

At a checkpoint, the security agents hand their pistols over, but not their staffs, which are ceremonial. The Oresean chef heads back, to help the Ienecian chefs prepare traditional Oresean meals.

Daniel goes back trough the check into the dinner room.

Kim approaches Clifford Reboten
"Could you tell us more about the additive itself, what is it exactly and what does it achieve ."

The delegate seems like his eyes almost covered in tears. After covering his face in his hands he got himself straight and forgot about his sadness.

"Yes, please tell us more of the additive, and the race association more."

One of the two Sjorehningi beside the Hersir nudges the other. They snicker. They seem to be sharing some sort of funny joke. They look at the Keshob delegate, then snicker harder than before. One of them chuckles a bit. The corners of the Hersir's mouth twitch.

"What are you laughing from?"

The two lower ranked Sjorehningi, unable to take such a comment with a straight face, burst out laughing. The Hersir, much more able to contain herself, responds.
"Would you like a minute to compose yourself, Keshob? Do you need some tissues?"

The box containing the wine is getting slightly wet due to the weather. If it is left outside any longer the contents shall be spoiled.