"The meeting is underway!" proclaimed a feminine voice.
She was:
Leyla Rosechild.
Half-Elf.
Deputy Chairwoman, Secretary, and First Worker of the Union of Soviet Socialist Autonomous Duchy of Bergard and the Northern Border Communes — also known as USSADBNBC.
She had stood beside the Supreme Head Chairman of USSADBNBC since the beginning of his glorious Socialist Revolution. Standing to his left, she was serious and fully focused on the task.
He sat at the head of the table, visibly distracted. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. Every eye was on the Head Chairman. The Council was formed of many races: Humans, Elves, Goblins, Beastkin, Dwarves, Orcs, Undead, Kobolds, Insectoids, Reptiloids, Demons, and Monsters, all of which had a representative. Two Harpies were present—one representing her own tribe, the other, as a fellow winged creature, acting as proxy for the Dragons, who disliked travel and rarely fit in the council chambers.
"We shall begin," said Leyla. "First on the list for today's meeting, it is a motion for changing the name of our dear Union of Soviet Socialist Autonomous Duchy of Bergard and the Northern Border Communes—also known as USSADBNBC—into a simpler and more inclusive name."
She cleared her throat.
"Other races, particularly monsters and the Undead, who are… cough… who find the spoken speech somewhat difficult, have protested that they either can't pronounce or have a hard time remembering the whole name of our motherland…"
"Preposterous!" shouted a council member.
Gupta Baga, the First Worker Among Goblins and Secretary of Ideological Purity, slammed his fist onto the table. Due to his small frame, it made no sound. He then placed his hand dramatically over his chest.
"Comrades, the glorious name of our dear Union of Soviet Socialist Autonomous Duchy of Bergard and the Northern Border Communes—also known as USSADBNBC—is already deeply entrenched in the hearts of our hard-working citizens!"
He sniffed theatrically.
"To change it now would be sacrilege!"
"We have had this name for just two weeks," comrade Gupta, interjected Hagrid, First Worker Among Dwarves and Chief of Labor Metrics.
"And it followed three months of negotiations," Gupta shot back. "This is the eighth name in three years."
Murmurs rippled through the room.
"And we already produced flags, merchandise, and official documents," someone added. "Changing it now would be costly."
The agitation grew.
"Silence, comrades! We find ourselves in this predicament because we failed to choose a practical name from the start. Our Beloved Supreme Leader—"
"Head Chairman," Leyla corrected.
"—our Revered Head Chairman," Hagrid continued, coughing awkwardly, "entrusted us with a sacred mission: to name the Motherland. We must reopen the debate immediately! We cannot ignore comrades who cannot speak properly!"
He sat back down, beaming with pride, his eyes flicking toward the Head Chairman in anticipation.
This stupid shit again!?
The Head Chairman leaned back in his chair. He wore a military uniform, heavy with medals—most awarded arbitrarily by eager councils and communes. A ceremonial red cape hung from his shoulder, and atop his head sat the Red Beret of the First Citizen Among the Citizens.
His stare was cold, masking exhaustion and irritation.
How did we get here? he thought. All I wanted was to mess with the Hero. Now I'm drowning in meetings and paperwork.
I should be celebrating. I should have riches. A harem. Revenge.
Instead, this is the fifty-eighth meeting about a name.
His name was George McGuffin, but in this world, he was known as Desmond Steel, Head Chairman and architect of the Socialist Revolution sweeping the North. The name was his choice. The title was not.
Sacred mission, my ass, he thought.
"When we formed the Union, we needed a name." - I didn't feel like bothering with that.- "So I told you to come up with something."
He grimaced.
"You gave me this — The Union of Soviet Socialist Communes of the Humans of the Bergard Duchy, Elven Forest, Demonic Tribes, Undead Communes, Dwarven Unions, Beast Folk Tribes, Goblin Soviets, Dragon Caves Confederation, Harpies Mountain, and Union of Monsters Who Speak and Think."
"Also known as — USSCHBDEFDTUCDUBFTGSDCCHMUMST."
He rubbed his temples.
"That's not a name. That's a WiFi password."
He wouldn't understand this. The Hero could never remember passwords. He had other people type them for him.
He sighed in pain.
"The next five iterations just added new races and new communes, making it even longer. Everyone complained, so I asked you to shorten it and make it more practical. Your solution?"
Desmond gazed at them bitterly.
"The Unified Motherland Under Socialism, of the Soviet Communes of Humans, Demons, Elves, Dwarves, Orcs, Undead, Goblins, Dragons, Harpies, Kobolds, Insect Peoples, Skeletons, Beastkin, Monsters, Lizard Peoples, Golems, Mermaids, Spider Peoples, Werewolves, Giants, Vampires, etc.—also known as UMUSSCHDEDOUGDHKIPSBMLPGMSPWGVetc."
The room was silent, and everyone avoided Desmond's gaze.
"The 'etc' was a solution I proposed as a way to shorten it. Three race names, then et cetera. Race after race came up with motions, and in the end, the 'etc' was placed at the end of a list that included every single race."
Desmond closed his eyes in frustration.
"The next one was—Soviet Union of Socialist Motherland of the Communes of Legged, Crawling, Talking, Winged, Seeing, Hearing, Roaring, Tall and Short, Material and Immaterial, and Creatures of Various Colors."
"USMCLCTWSHRTSMICVC."
Several members nodded solemnly.
"It was supposed to be just 'Legged and Winged.' Then the Crawling ones filed a motion. After that, everyone found a defining trait worth fighting over."
His gaze flicked toward Gupta.
"No wonder you are so attached to the current name. You were so proud of your contribution that I am sure you bribed half of the council to have it passed."
Gupta gasped, scandalized.
Desmond closed his eyes.
"I'm tired."
He straightened slightly.
"The Union of Socialist Communes of the North."
A pause.
"USCN."
The room fell silent.
Then—
"Brilliant!" someone cried in the back.
"A masterstroke!"
"Such clarity!"
"Such elegance!"
"Clear and inclusive!"
"Glory to Our Great Commander, Sun of the Motherland!"
Leyla's eyes narrowed.
"Head Chairman."
"Only you could conceive such wisdom, Supreme—"
"Head Chairman."
"—Visionary, First Among—"
Leyla's presence sharpened.
"—Head Chairman. Hurray!"
The council erupted in cheers.
Desmond slumped.
"I hate this."
The fire of the early days had long burned out, smothered under procedure and paperwork.
I am sure the Hero must be enjoying himself, he thought bitterly. He lives in a golden palace... yet I remember him still complaining that it is a bit too drafty.
Meanwhile, I live in a hut to simulate humility. I'm still single. Buried in committee work.
He glanced sideways.
Leyla stood composed, overseeing the celebration with practiced ease.
She's beautiful, he thought absently. As expected of half-elves. They have the best of every half.
When we started this journey, I thought this would be the spring of my youth. A romantic adventure in a fantasy world with an elven beauty. Revolution. More beautiful women joining us. A harem built through shared struggle.
He grimaced.
Instead, I got Trotsky the Elf.
She took the chaos I designed and turned it into a functioning bureaucracy.
Their eyes met.
Leyla nodded once, then gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
Desmond stiffened.
What was that?
"Comrades," Leyla announced, "the Head Chairman is in agreement."
I am?
"As you all know," Leyla continued smoothly, "the Chairman is deeply committed to procedure. A true devotee of bureaucratic rigor."
I'm in hell.
Laughter rippled through the room.
Leyla allowed herself a small, satisfied smile before continuing.
"I propose a motion to end the current motion and replace it with a follow-up motion. Each commune will debate and vote on the proposed name. Results will be submitted, together with whatever amendments you may have, one month from today."
"Please stop," Desmond muttered.
Every hand rose in approval.
"Motion passed. Next item."
Leyla flipped a page.
"A motion from the Dragons."
Groans echoed faintly.
"They state that they are unable to attend meetings due to space limitations and distance. They propose relocating future sessions to their mountain caves."
"They just don't want to be bothered," Gupta snapped, slamming the table. Again, no sound. "It takes a dragon two minutes to fly here."
Murmurs followed.
Desmond nodded faintly.
For once, he's right.
A large orc raised his hand.
"With permission, perhaps meetings could be held outside?"
Gupta recoiled.
"Deputy Chairman of Heavy Objects, your idea is noble, but what would those bourgeois pigs of the South think if we held meetings under the open sky like savages?"
Leyla raised a hand.
"The concerns of the Dragons are noted. However, this motion lacks a date on page three."
She tapped the document.
"It is invalid. Representative Hara, please inform the First Worker Among Dragons to resubmit with corrections."
As expected of the mother demon of bureaucracy and procedures.
Hara nodded. "Understood."
Leyla continued.
"With the permission of the Head Chairman, I shall continue with a series of petitions and motion proposals for the next meeting."
Desmond waved weakly.
"First, a petition from the Elves."
"Elves' lifespan exceeds one thousand years. Five-year plans are offensively short."
Silence.
The elf representative sat perfectly still, eyes closed.
"Noted. Next meeting."
Leyla continued to look through the papers.
"A complaint from the Dwarves: the ration system does not include beard maintenance."
"We've raised this repeatedly," Hagrid said.
Leyla nodded thoughtfully.
"Beards are increasingly important among spellcasters as well. The Deputy Minister of Hair and Fur Affairs?"
No response.
"On maternal leave," someone called out. "Quintuplets."
Murmurs of awe.
"Then this will be revisited upon her return."
"A complaint from the Goblins."
Gupta straightened.
"They are satisfied with sock quality, but request increased pointiness."
"Comrade of the Most Equal Socks?" Leyla asked.
An elderly human woman stood slowly.
"We lack young workers," she admitted. "Most of us are too old to produce sharper points."
Gupta's expression softened.
"Young goblins are eager to learn," he said quickly. "If permitted, they could assist—"
KILL ME!!! Desmond thought. His face in his hands.
"Next: a motion from the Undead? How did I miss this?"
Leyla adjusted her glasses.
"Despite being granted full citizenship, the living still scream upon seeing them."
A skeletal figure in the back nodded vigorously.
Leyla cleared her throat.
"They propose killing twenty-five percent of the population to improve demographic balance."
"GHAAAAAAAAH!" roared Gah the First, First Worker Among the Dead, Chairman of Eternal Productivity and Post-Labor Affairs.
Leyla paused, scanning the document. Her face betrayed surprise.
"This motion is… properly filled."
She looked up.
"Debate is now open!"