Lighting the Fires(MT|Open)

by **Dralka** » Thu Mar 19, 2015 3:46 pm

Dralka, Capital City of Ser Avon

The city seemed to be crumbling from the inside out. The economy had been a failing mess in the whole of the country until extremely recently, and was only now beginning to go back on the rise after years of falling value in it’s companies, corporations leaving the country, and the many failed seasons of fishing and a crumbling oil industry after the loss of territory that they were forced to sell to the Central Collective, to the great dismay of the people.

The elections that had taken place two months before had brought about the end of the elections for the official office although many cities still elected their own governors. The extreme right wing party of the Ravens had been elected into power, electing a young captain named Averi Zambelse as their ruler. She had been a popular choice, her father running the Vex Mining Corporation that employed many of the people, and that facts that she had promised a revitalization of education, small businesses, and welfare. The economy had been improving, and the number of soldiers had only increased over the past few months as recruitment programs increased nationwide.

Many cities had been seeing in improvement to the looks of their cities, buildings being repaired and more parks being created. Industry had steadily increased in the country, namely in arms manufacturing and automobile production. Things were looking up for the country, a long awaited turn.

A crowd was gathering in the city square as flags of the new Dralkar government flew in the hair, as if feeling the excitement of the city beneath and around them. Dralkars had always had resentments against the Kingdom of Jalka and the Vesli-Xain Empire, them being resposible for the treaty that had sent the nations economy crashing down after they forced the country to pay for damages done to their country when they had formed an alliance to conqueror territory that had once been Dralkar, and that still had the essence of the country, and had launched an attack beginning the Second War of Niskas, which they had won after eight brutal years of fighting. The crowd knew that they were in the middle of times where history was made…

Averi approached the stairs that would lead her to the podium where the crowd awaited her. Her fair pale features were complemented by her deep green eyes and crimson hair, which was cut to a length that ended at her chin. She was young, but charismatic, intelligent, and compassionate. The people liked her, it was that simple. She wore a feminine suit, and nice looking shoes.

The newly entitled Lady Marshall cleared her throat as he reached the microphone atthe podium, her tall form standing straight. “My people, we are coming to a new place in history. We are on our way to becoming the greatest of all of the nations of Niskas! We are strong, and powerful!”

She paused allowing her words to sink in, as she looked attentively at the large crowd that had gathered. “Our nation has too long been abused and disrespected! Too long used a scapegoat and the laughing stock! We will rise! We will become the people that our ancestors had always spoke of, the unifiers!” The people cheered, and as the live broadcast was watched, national leaders watched in horror. The unifiers were a legend that was meant to someday conqueror the whole of Niskas, and they knew full well what she was saying.

“Everyday we become stronger, everyday is a little more prosperous! We are a great people! We were once the feared knights of the North, and the prosperous Empire of the Dagon, but each of them fell, failing to realize what would make them last, but we will not! We will define what it means to be a great nation! Redefine what it means to be an intelligent country! We have learned our lessons, learned what it means to know pain, knows what it means to become like ash, but we will be like the Phoenix, and the brave men of old! We will rise from the ashes on wings of golden fire! We will rid of our weakness from the pains of old!” the crowd let out a mighty cheer and she waited for them to settle before continuing.

“We will forge a new nation, not warped by corruption and stubbornness! We will turn from our inflation and our loses, and go to bounds no one could have expected! The others, they see us as feral animals! Wild dogs! Barbarians scraping their survival off of the tombstones of our great fathers, but we are so much more!”

“Glory awaits our nation! Prosperity will come, and we will become what the damned Empires have always feared! We will become greater than them! Eclipse them! We will rise! For the Federation! For Dralka!” The people cheered for her as she turned away and entered the car that had brought her there.

Parades had followed the speech, battalions of soldiers marching proudly to the great cheers of their people. It was a festival, the speech had marked the beginning the Week of the Ascendant, the week that had remained part of their culture even after their old faith had been changed to christianity.

Everyone on the continent knew what was coming. Knew what was about to engulf the continent, that no one could hope to stop. A Third War was coming, and no amount of diplomacy could stop it, it was as if someone was setting fire to the kindling of a great bonfire, about to reach a section of gasoline that had been poured on to make sure it burned….

by **Nitom** » Thu Mar 19, 2015 6:25 pm

Code: Select all: TO: Dralka FROM: The Holy Empire of Nitom ENCRYPTION: High SUBJECT: Aide To whom it may concern, I Ethan M. Holstings hereby wish to extend our hand in friendship to your nation. We have received news of your recent speeches made by the head of your government and wish to aide you in your goals. This will not, however, be a one sided deal. We wish-in return for helping you take back your lands and much more-to be given the isles of Macia, if you so choose to extend your borders to the whole of the continent. These islands will be used as both a military base and refueling station for our naval forces that travel nearby. After all is said and done, we would also like to extend an offer of a Mutual Defense Pact and a Free Trade Agreement. If these terms are acceptable to you then we may proceed at your earliest convenience. We anticipate your response. Signed, 57th Elected Emperor, Ethan M Holstings.

by **Dralka** » Fri Mar 20, 2015 3:50 pm

Ser Avon, Dralka

The capitol building was made of stones and extremely rectangular, with a tall spire that rose from far right of the building, almost as if it had been built as an after thought. It looked pristine, but out of place, the only building connecting the city to it’s past. It had been nicknamed the ‘Den of the Alpha’ by the people, it’s official name being the Keep of the Ascendant. The sky was dark as s storm approached the city that had already went by the coastal areas.

It had been two days since the speech that had sent Dralka’s neighbors scrambling to become mobilized, and the message had only arrived in the hands of the Lady Marshall after of rest, and a day addressing the budget of the nation, namely the military’s budget, and what it could afford to purchase, namely the costs of a prototype fighter, that was kept heavily underwraps, and the facilities guarded by a detachment of the elite heavy infantry known as the Raven Guard.

She was sitting at a birchwood circular desk on an exercise ball, she seemed to bob up and down like a bobber on a fishing line. She was reading through the letter from the Elected Empire, a slight smile being on her face since she read the word ‘Aide’ on the subject line. She set the letter down and picked up a pen and began writing one of her own in response. As she finished the letter she put down the pen and leaned back, trying to stretch her back.

Three quick knocks at the door and Averi sat up. “Come in.” her voice was smooth, and hardly seemed to belong on a former soldier. A man in jeans and a black flannel shirt entered the small room.
“Three messages, madam.” The man sounded calm, but his eyes gave away his worry over the situation. “One from The Militant States, one from the Jalka, and a third from the Damned Empire.”
“What is the jist of what is being said, I am sorry, but I need to meet with the Generals to create a plan of attack.”
“The Dagon pledge full allegiance to our cause, both Jalka and the Empire have threatened that if we do not cease our mobilization that they will declare war.”
“The Empire is weakening every day. They have lost support from many after their brutal attack on militant rebel’s homes. Jalka..The Kingdom will have to be taken out commission in the early stages of the war..” She muttered to herself before realizing the secretary was still in the room. “Thank you, Mr. Ered.” The man nodded and left the room, only moments before Averi got up herself to talk strategy with her generals….

Suburbs of Saint Amera; Dralka

The city was calm as the troop trucks went about with sergeants reading the names of families who had yet to send one of their family into the mandatory three years of service. Children were told to stay in their rooms and one by one men and women left their families, proudly, but sadly, to fight for their nation.
There was a cold wind in the afternoon air. It rustled in the branches and the smells of grilling food and gasoline filled the air.

An unladen troop truck entered the street. Lukas Adrana had been biking home when he had seen the troop truck enter his part of town and had quickly made it home. He was nineteen, just above the age where one could join the army. He burst into his home. “Dad!?” His voice was deep and had an undertone of aggressiveness.

“Down stairs Luke!” His father called back, in a voice in utter contrast to his son’s. His wife had died five years before, beaten for her groceries and left for dead. Lukas had personally served three years in juvy when he found the man that had done it, having to be pulled off the man to keep him from beating his brains out.

His short black hair was just long enough to over one of his blue eyes as he made his way down the wooden stairs into the basement of his house, rather quickly. “Dad, the troop trucks are here. I guarantee they are going to be asking for one of us, and I will not let you go.” Luke was trying not to leave cracks for questions that his father good make larger.

“Why should you be the one that goes?” His father replied, stepping away from the laundry he had just been doing, his caring voice trying very hard to penetrate his son’s defenses.
“I won’t let Ashe be without a father. She needs you more then she needs me!”
“Don’t say that! Ashley needs us both, Luke.”
“If they ask for one of our family, I am not letting you go. She is only eight, I would rather you were there to get through these things with her. I am not responsible enough to take care of her, we both know that.”
“Luke, please listen to me.” Before his father even finished his sentence Lukas had turned his back stormed up the stairs. “Luke! Luke! Please just listen to me!” He thought about following his son to his room where he knew his son would be getting a family picture to take with him. He decided against it instead got his father’s gift to him when he had joined the army himself. He shook his head remembering how alike they would have been at nineteen.

Lukas had three pictures with him, one was of his mother, one was a group photo of him with three of his friends, Vann, Kevin, and Andrew, and a recent family picture. He stuffed them in his pocket and heard a knocking at his door. Outside he saw the troop troop truck four houses away, a sergeant knocked on the door and was let inside by the family. “Can I come in Luke?”
“Yes.” He was just happy his little sister wasn't home.

His father entered the room carrying a black box. “If you insist on being the one that goes, at least don’t go alone.” Was all his father said, handing him the box. Outside the sergeant left the house followed by a young woman. He opened the box and looked at what was inside. There was a decorated dagger and a pistol with a recently replaced pine wood grip with the word, “Only in death does duty end.” followed by their last name, which circled the family crest, a Falcon with a moon in the background.
“Dad..you can’t.”
“This was gift from my father, and it is mine to whom to give to who I wish, and I am giving it to you.” Lukas dropped the box on his bed and hugged his father, tears running down each others faces. A knock came at the door and his father released his son. “I will go and get that. You wait here, alright?”
“Yes, dad.” His father left the room, and Luke started searching his room, and smiled when he found it. It was a grey teddy bear that had a pink bow tie, along with the words “From your brother who will always love you.” embroidered on it’s belly with white thread. When his father came back up with the sergeant, a Sergeant Lysan from his uniform he asked for a private moment with his father before leaving, the kind looking sergeant agreed, and waited in their living room, looking at the family pictures.

“Dad, please give this to Ashe when she gets back. It was meant for her birthday, but give it to her today, please.” His father simply nodded and put out his hand.
“Good luck, Luke. See you again. Remember to fight with honor always. Defend the defenceless, and in the name of God, act with kindness.”
“I promise I will return father. I love you.”
His father gave a sad smile that was returned by his father. “Love you too.”

With those final words they left his room, and went into the living room. “Is Mr. Adrana ready to take up the call?” The sergeant asked simply. his father put a gentle hand on Luke’s shoulder.
“I am ready.” Luke nodded to his father and gave one last firm hand shake to his dad.
“Very good! I trust you will serve well.” The Sergeant replied. “We should be going.” he added, and luke left his house, the gifts from his father right next to each other on his belt, and the pictures in his pocket. He jumped into the troop truck with all of the other newly recruited men and women. They all had at least a slight look of fear in their eyes, but for many determination and hope of surviving the coming war outweighed the fear. The transport continued on, recruiting more men and women…

To: The Holy Empire of Nitom; 57th Elected Emperor Ethan M Holstings
From: The Federation of Dralka; Marshall Averi Zambelse

Dear, the Elected Emperor Holstings

I must thank you for your support in our endeavor to become a power again. Currently our plans do not go as far to conqueror the whole of the continent although it is an eventual hope. We appreciate your support of our cause, and I hope that we may someday become allies and hold a meeting for the mutual interests of our two countries.

I will not act rashly based on your support, I will assure you of that.

May God be with us,
Signed,
(Lady) Marshall Averi Zambelse

by **Dralka** » Sat Mar 21, 2015 5:42 am

by **Dralka** » Sat Mar 21, 2015 10:10 am

Blood coated the ground as the Black-winged Angel turned looking for any remaining opponents. The dead littered the ground a mile in every direction, as was the price of vengeance from the Ascendent. - Verse from the Legends of the Ascendent; Dralkar Archives

Airspace Over Jalka - Codenamed: D6/7

The attack was beginning, after three days of preparation. The plan was as simple was it was effective. It was four pronged attack. The first prong was was an attack on the northernmost border, launched from the Ser Zalan, spearheaded by two regiments of Raven Guard followed by the 303rd Mechanized Division, with support from three battalions of the 99th Armored Regiment, launched to secure the oil fields in the north of the Kingdom of Jalka. The Second Prong was a sweeping attack launched from near the city of Vayne towards the King’s Plains, the third prong of the attack was air attacks launched just before the main invasion to attack airfields in the Zasra area controlled by the Kingdom, and air bases in the King’s Plains. The Final Prong was the most powerful. It consisted of two smaller prongs, one went wide from the Avon Sal in an attempt to encircle enemy units defending Fort Saggar with support of the Second Prong. The other prong was an armored onslaught from the Sare Dralka towards the city of Ice Keep.

This was launched in concert with the declaration of war on The Kingdom of Jalka and the Central Collective, in cohesion with an invasion from the Dagon stormtroopers of the Collective from the Warrior’s Cross aiming to encircle the Thera Abis in preparation for the Dralkar invasion of the Collective. The Dralkar and the Dagon had always been allies, and even now they were showing it, not to mention invasions from Dagon’s ally of the Unity Imperial States against the Unified Republics of Simmar, the Democracy of Eagle, and the Federation of Zallica. It was a tactical miracle, as if they had been planning the assaults for years.

However, the Dralkar Air Force was outdated, their main aircraft being F-14Ds, MiG-29As, and A-10s, but their pilots were vastly superior to those of the Jackla.

A pilot by the name of Hevn Rikan was sitting in the cockpit of his MiG-29A. The aircraft was painted black a white skull on the top of their aircraft. He was the commander of a squadron known as the Angels of Death, and each had their own emblem away from the winged Grim Reaper that was the unit’s emblem. There were a complete total ten of them, but there were five that pilots from the foreign countries would learn to especially fear of the squadron, and Rikan was one of them.

12th Dralkar Air Division, 121st Air Superiority Squadron, the Angels of Death

“This is Daemon to all units. Warsmith cover Over-Captain. Discord cover Terror.”
>>>Warsmith, understood.<<<
>>>Discord, understood.<<<
>>>Over-Captain, understood.<<<
>>>Terror, as you command Daemon.<<<

>>>This is AWACs Lightning Talon, to all units operating in Operation Vengeance. Your targets are Drake Air Base, and the staging area one mile to it’s south. Angels of Death, Ivory Fang, and Centurion squadrons maintain air superiority over D7/6 at all costs.<<<

The radio went silent as the operation began. Aircraft were scrambling from the Air Base in a desperate attempt to hold back the oncoming onslaught. The few aircraft that were managing to make into the air were taken out quickly.

>>>This is AWACs. Fourteen aircraft approaching at high speed from the southeast. Angels of Death, prepare to intercept. Centurion support them in any way possible.<<<
>>>This is Gladiator. Orders will be complied.<<<
“This is Daemon. Engaging.” Rikan responded.
>>>Warsmith, engaging.<<<
>>>Over-Captain. Engaging.<<<
>>>Terror, engaging.<<<
>>>Discord, engaging.<<<

Each of the black painted MiGs headed for the incoming Jalkan fighters, specifically SU-35Ss, as the fighters from Ivory Fang continued to mop up the few aircraft that been able to come up from Drake before and as the A-10s had commenced their strafing and rocket runs.

The SU-35S while a vastly superior aircraft to the MiG-29A, their pilots were incompetent and badly trained, most of the reinforcements having little air time. They didn’t know how to use the aircraft's maneuverability and speed to outperform their opponents. It looked as though they hadn’t even done dogfighting drills.

Rikan felt like he wasting good aircraft by shooting them down. Orders were orders, and he would follow them to his last breath, but he couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. He wanted a real opponent.

“Shoot them down. Shoot them all down and get this overwith. I would feel sad for these Birds if they weren’t so damn pathetic.”

Seventeen Miles into the Border of The Kingdom of Jalka; Operation Dark Passion

603rd Armored Brigade; Hunter Company

Captain Davain Thule was looking looking through the scope of his Iron Fear Battle Tank. Thule was a solid commander, where he laking is charisma he was strong in both intelligence, confidence, and able to read battlefields. He had won more than one mock battle by outsmarting opponents and knowing when lines were about to break.

He had quickly risen through the ranks and had earned a company command by twenty five, not quite as quickly as Averi, but he was close. He was from a generation of soldiers, as his generation had been nicknamed for how quickly they had been able to rise the ranks in the military.

“This is Brokenshard to all units, proceed onwards. Enemy defenses should be approaching momentarily.”
>This is Cobra to Brokenshard. Infantry are reporting contact from the snow dunes a quarter mile up ahead.<
“Understood. Cobra, move your unit up the right flank of the hills. Chaplain, move yours up the left. The hills will be identified as Objective Beta.”
>This is Champlain, acknowledged.<
>Cobra, engaging.<
“Engage at will. All hostile elements will be eliminated.”

The morning glowed overhead as the fight began. IFVs and MGSs moved around the tanks supporting in the infantry, a few being knocked out or put out of commission by anti-tank rockets and shells. The tanks pushed ahead to get behind the positions in the hills to outflank the guns and allow the infantry to rush forward and overwhelm the positions.

The hills fell in minutes, their insufficient anti-tanks weapons being completely obvious. They had not been prepared for any assault other than that by pure infantry with no armored support.

The Invasion had begun, and the Jalkan army was reeling….

by **Dralka** » Sun Mar 22, 2015 1:13 pm

Omerse Air Force Space, Jalka

99th Jalkan Air Division, 77th Fighter Squadron ‘Spirits’

Andrew Whilhelm was sitting in a straight manner. his back was tense his head up, as he listen to the briefing. A man in a grey military uniform was standing at a podium, as a map on a screen behind him slowly zoomed in a single air space. The Airpsace’s nickname was Solitary Confinement. It was right between Ice Keep and and Sal Nas, a city which had been gained during the Second War. The reason for ir’s nickname was the fact that it was almost impossible for weak radio signals to get through. If you were shot down, you were on your own until you got out of the area, even then you were in the middle of frozen hills.

Andrew was the wingman of the squadron leader, a man named Matthew Sasar. Whilhelm trusted his commander with his life, and Sasar with his own. They had been friends since joining the same unit, both of them had families from the capital city of Serdantar, and both had difficult growing facial hair. Whilhelm had dark, tactful eyes, with short brown hair.

“Your mission today is to secure Area FS/90, better known as the area of Solitary Confinement. We must halt Dralkar air operations in that area. If we do not the Dralkar’s sweeping maneuvers will fully encircle our men defending the Avon Sal, and thus give up the city of Sal Nas. Sal Nas is key to our future plans and must be secured.” Behind the officer three green arrows were pointing to the air space, with numerous dark red triangles.

“Heavy resistance to secure the air space is expected. Your objective is to achieve complete air superiority. All hostile aircraft must be shot down. Dismissed.” The officer turned away from the podium and left through a back door as the screen slowly receded back into the white ceiling. Fifty pilots got up from their seats and filed out of the large room.

Whilhelm felt a hand hit his shoulder and he turned to see Sasar there. “You ready to go up?” Sasar had a smile on his face. He loved flying, and their squadron had become one of the most highly experienced in the Air Force, having flown sorties in support of the Isles of Macia when the Imperial States had invaded it.
“Nervous.” Andrew replied, a small frown on his face.
“Why? Those Damn Dralkar won’t know what hit them!”
“Drake Air Base was effectively removed as an asset in the first two hours of the attack. They somehow knew that some of our best pilots were stationed there.”
“It was coincidence, trust me. We’ll teach those bastards a lesson, and they will run back home to their mothers with a tail between their legs like the cowards they are.”
“You're probably right.” Andrew lied, mostly trying to convince himself they hadn’t known. He put on a false smile.”
“We shouldn’t keep our birds waiting.” Sasar ened the conversation, the bright smile never leaving his face.

Whilhelm climbed up the iron steps on the cockpit of his aircraft, the sprungs of the ladder ringing as he climbed into the cockpit of his F-15E. He got comfortable in the seat as the ladder was moved away and he brought down the canopy. The crewmen ahead motioned for him to leave the dimly lit hangar as the doors opened. Ahead of him three of his squadron took off joining the two already in the air. Sasar and Whilhelm would be the last into the air.

All of their aircraft were a pale blue with black celtic designs across them. He turned his aircraft onto the runway, Sasar’s aircraft just behind him.
>Phantom, prepare for take off.<
The voice of the control tower almost seemed to echo in his ears, as he made final preparations for take off.
>Haunt prepare for take off.<
Behind him Sasar’s aircraft was making similar preparations to his own.
>Phantom and Haunt. You are cleared for take off.<

The two aircraft quickly sent themselves into the air joining their comrades as behind him yet more aircraft prepared for take off.

Area FS/90; Solitary Confinement, Jalkan Air Space

A battle was raging in the skies far above the earth. Smoke filled the air as missiles flew through the air, contrails filled the air and aircraft trailing smoke exploded in dark beauty.
>>>This is AWACs Crystaline, Spirit, engage.<<<
>>>Haunted, engaging. Keep my back clear of Dralks Phantom.<<<
“Acknowledged. Phantom, engaging.” It would have been a buetiful day for a slight if they weren’t all trying to kill each other in the skies, Whilhelm thought to himself.
>>>Ghost, engaging.<<<
>>>Banshee, engaging.<<<
>>>Avenger, engaging.<<<
>>>Fallen King, engaging.<<<
>>>Draugr, engaging.<<<

Each of the aircraft split off from each other, followed at a distance by their wingmen. The area was chaotic. Fighters dodged and maneuvered, creating dazzling curtails as they seemed to do a crazy waltz through the air, in a deadly dance to the death.

>>>This is Viceroy. I’m hit, left engine failing. Going to try an eje--<<<
A flaming aircraft nearby exploded followed by a black MiG that had a dark red blade painted across it’s ceiling.
>>>Those damn Blacks!<<<

>>>Kill the weak ones first. Leave the worthy opponents for later.<<<
An intimidating voice came over their frequency, with a thick Dralkar accent.

Sasar’s plane maneuvered away from another of the black MiGs, but started being followed by an F-14D.
>>>Phantom, get that thing off me.<<<
“Roger that.”

Whilhelm got behind the other aircraft as slowly the Dralkar pilots skill was showing, despite their widely outdated aircraft. It was like an insult to the prideful pilot. Whilhelm let out a short burst from his machine gun, and the F-14s engines burst into black smoke.

The voice came back again.
>>>I think I found a fine target.<<<

>>>Thanks, I owe you a drink.<<<
“This is war. No need for thanks.” Sasar didn’t respond to that sentiment, and he claimed a few kills for himself in the skies.
>>>This is AWACs Crystaline. The black bodied MiG-29s have been identified as the Angels of Death. Exercise extreme caution when engaging.<<<

The Angels of Death had already made their mark on the minds of the Jalkan. It had been two days since the strike on the Air Base, but they had already been spotted on at least four separate sorties, unleashing havoc in each appearance.

Sasar’s aircraft exploded in a fury before Whilhelm knew what had happened. An Angel of Death with a skull on his ceiling shot past him. Sasar’s aircraft tore itself to pieces at it fell. No ejection had been made.

Rikan turned his aircraft just behind the Eagle that had been following his latest kill.
>>>This is Terror, ammunition stores running low. Permission to disengage?<<<
“Granted.”
>>>This is Warsmith to Over-Captain. Keep those Eagles off my back.<<<
>>>Acknowledged.<<<
“Discord, disengage with Terror.”
>>>Complying.<<<

Rikan followed the Eagle high into the sky before firing a burst from his machine gun which struck the F-15 along the right wing. Before the aircraft went an unalterable spin, an ejection was made.

>>>This is AWACs Lightning Talon. Hostiles are disengaging. Well done.<<<
“This is pathetic.” Was all the Daemon responded with….

Jalkan News

“Today, Dralkar aircraft took control over the airspace between Sal Nas, and the Ice Keep, in addition to successful assaults across the north of the country. Our armed forces have been unable to create a stable defensive line as of yet, and the 887th Mechanized Division has been fully encircled.

As of two hours ago the government has sent a surrender notice in an effort to save the lives of our people. In addition the Dralkar have sent infantry units into the Thera Abis as Dagon units have continued their invasion of the Collective of Tinis. The Collective agreed as of one hour ago to conceed the Thera Abis to the federation of Dralkar and additional territory to the Militant States of Dagon.

Dralkar has sent an assurance that the only wish to take back lands that had belonged to them previously, but their are deep suspicions that they will begin another invasion. They have been warned by the Queen of Ederas to cease it’s growth in military numbers, with support from the Fiefdom of Souls. The Unity of Imperial States has also shown signs that it will halt it’s expansion if the Dralkar’s demands are met.

In total, it would appear we are headed towards the Third War. Next is the weather.”

by **Dralka** » Sun Mar 22, 2015 7:03 pm

*Bump*

by **The Nation of Ceneria** » Mon Mar 23, 2015 2:47 pm

To: The government of Dralka
From: The Desk of the President of Ceneria
Subject: Recent aggression against Jalka
Encryption: Diplomatic C
Time: 1748-03232015

To whom it may concern within the government of Dralka—

The people of government of Ceneria wish you to know that we hold your recent aggression against the peaceful nation of Jalka as an act of extreme aggression not to be tolerated by the international community. In accordance with this belief, we wish to extend to you this ultimatum: Desist your unmerited aggression against the armed forces and civilian population of Jalka, or face at the least severe economic sanctions. Representatives of Ceneria are willing to arbitrate any cease-fire that may come into existence should you choose to avoid the aforementioned sanctions.

As of 1800 hours today, any and all official representatives of Dralka are being escorted from Ceneria and placed onto direct international flights to such places as may be available at their time of departure. Until such time as you desist your aggression against Jalka for a more peaceful and less damaging course of action, there will be no communications between our two governments.

If you do not cease your aggression against the people of Jalka within five days of your government's receipt of this communique, a declared state of war may exist between our nations. In accordance with this, please know that we are dispatching a fleet of warships to your coasts in the event that you a): request a cease-fire arbitrated by Cenerian representatives, or b): ignore this communique.

Please act with discrimination. The lives of many hang in the balance.

Cordially,

President Samuel McLaughlin, Leader of Ceneria

by **Dralka** » Tue Mar 24, 2015 3:29 pm

“Strength in all forms is what creates survival. The weak linger and die, the strong live and create progress. The weak wish to be led, it is human nature, in time of calamity people look to the strong. Pain, is at times the price to pay for strength, but pain is temporary. Victory is forever.” - Dralkar Proverb

Dralka, Ser Avon; The Keep of the Ascendant

It was near nightfall in the city. Streets lights slowly flickered into life and neon signs for allnight stores and bars flashed making their quiet buzzing noises that when in a group turned into a low volume drone. Automobiles of various classifications and types drove across the city to return home, go to overnight shifts, and head from the clubs, the sounds was pattering rain, and the sloshy noises of cars splashing through puddles filled the air as a thunder storm clashed and flared.

Lights shone through the windows of the Keep, along with the silhouettes of its current occupants; several high ranking officers, a few would-be suitors to Marshall Averi, who she kept away from her at all times possible, a multitude of aides and menials, a single heavily armed and armored bodyguard who followed the Lady everywhere she went.

She was currently sitting inside her office, having read her last received letter through over and over again. She was just glad she been able to gain control of the Thera Abis and remainder of the Avon Sal before the other communique had made it. It made her decision easy, she would back off, and continue her military reorganization until Cenerians forgot about their little offensive, otherwise she would be forced to fight more nations than she saw as possible to beat. A small power did not antagonize a larger one, it was simple common sense.

She read over one of the sections over and over. ‘There will be no communication between our two governments.’ That didn’t seem like much of a price to her, but the trade sanctions were the biggest threat that she saw.

The Dagon Straights were not a place of easy navigation, with numerous places where the ice was simply too thick to get through, forcing vessels into very narrow areas, more than a few military vessels had been lost to the Straights by those who did not respect the risks, but it was not a complete natural defense, while it was risky, a captain with experience and knowledge of the area could navigate through it and be able to land troops on the northern edge of the country.

The letter sat on the pinewood desk, that still had the scent of fresh sap. She opened one of the drawers and shuffled through it until she gave a small, barely audible cheer as she pulled out a small radio-like device. She set it on her desk and pressed the center button. “I need to speak with the Minister Dre Grastan as soon as possible.” She stated, rather plainly.

She was not in very formal attire, wearing a simple blouse with a pair of skinny jeans. She started sipping at the stale coffee she had from that morning, waiting for the minister arrive. She was bobbing on the exercise like she normally did out of habit.

Dre Grastan arrived about fifteen minutes after she had sent for him, dressed substantially more formally then she was, being in a full suit and dress pants. His eyes were a dark brown, seeming black from a distance, with a receding black hair line, and tough features. He appeared to be in his mid forties. “You sent for me, my lady. What is it?” His voice was raspy and deep from years of giving orders on the field of battle and yelling at meetings to simply be heard.

“I would like reports on the current state of our military, and the Hunter Project. We have recently gotten a message from the President of Ceneria, and if worse comes to worst I need to know our military numbers.” Averi replied

“We currently have a total of fifteen thousand recruits in training, and sixteen hundred Raven Guard preparing for their final tests, and your requested Banshee branch is making good progress towards testing. In accordance with the Hunter Project, there was another test flight today, although there were two planned. The second prototype for the fighter was having engine trouble, reportedly.” Answered the minister.

“How close is it to being ready for production.”

“A year at a minimum. They still have to test weapons, onboard long range radar, and stealth abilities, and each of those could take anywhere between one two months to six months, not to mention suitable fabricators to be developed.”
Averi shook her head sadly. She had been a fighter pilot, and since she had been in the military she had dreamt of her own nations Fifth Generation fighters.

“It has been going faster than expected if that is any consolation.” Dre encouraged the young ruler. “By the way, I know your birthday isn’t for three days, but Happy Birthday. How old will you be, twenty five?”

“Year off.” Averi looked up, a small smile on her face.

“Twenty six then?” The minister grinned.

“Wrong direction.” She titled her head towards him and smiled. The grin only got wider on Dre’s face.

“Anyway, was there anything else?”

“Yes, if and when possible I would like our crack-shot pilots assembled into an Elite Air Division. We need to increase the number of tanks we have as quickly as possible.”

“As you command, Marshall Zambelse.” Dre gave the Dralkar salute tapping his breast with his fist three times.

“Dismissed.” The minister left, and Averi was left to her thoughts, namely that of finding someone she could marry. She hated the feeling of being alone that came with being a ruler, and the silence that descended on the Keep when no one was around. She made a list of things to complete the following days, chief among them getting the navy ready for reorganization, despite it’s small number of ships, before turning in for the night.

by **The Nation of Ceneria** » Tue Mar 24, 2015 4:23 pm

Cenerian Sub-surface Command
Virinián, Ceneria

Vice Admiral Saxon Kimmerly, Commander-In-Chief, Cenerian Sub-Surface Command, glared down at the large table that dominated the center of the room. He stood in the room what was the center of CenSubCom's complex of hallways, electronics and communications rooms, and underground submarine pens, the very heart of Ceneria's most important power-projection organization. The command and control room was buried under several hundred feet of solid rock, dug into the side of one of the mountains the flanked Virinián Fjord. The table in the center of the room, which could more accurately be described as a horizontally-mounted flat-screen television, showed an extremely long-range map of the world, centering on Ceneria. Icons floating in the blue "ocean" marked the most up-to-date positions of every single Cenerian submarine at sea, with the exceptions of the navy's three ballistic missile submarines.

Kimmerly stared at this table and thought about his recent orders. He had been ordered from far up the chain of command (how far up he did not know and did not dare to ask) to free up three Cenerian fast-attack submarines, and immediately prepare to send them into "potentially dangerous waters, with the possibility of confronting hostile forces." Unfortunately for the admiral, freeing up submarines was not as easy as simply dispatching orders.

The first difficulty was communicating with the Cenerian submarine fleet. Nearly every single vessel at sea was presently submerged under hundreds of feet of water at the very least, and only very long-wavelength (and thus very slow) communications could reach them. Even then, the submarines would have to come shallow in order to use higher-frequency channels of communication, thus exposing them to detection and possible attack. Eight submarines were near enough to potentially hostile vessels that rising to periscope depth could prove fatal. Others were presently dispatched on extremely important missions, such as tapping undersea communications lines in one case. Interrupting those submarines could bring about terrible consequences as well.

The second difficulty was freeing up submarines. Out of six submarines that were sitting in the pens at the naval base, three were diesel submarines, totally unsuited for long range operations. One of these was in the midst of a major overhaul, and would not be ready to put to sea for at least a month. The same went for one of the nuclear attack submarines that was in dock, although it's overhaul had just begun. The other two submarines in dock were nuclear fast-atack submarines, and were ready to put to sea if given twelve hour's notice in order to call back crewmen on leave and secure food and weapons.

This left one submarine to find. Kimmerly stroked his chin as he stared at the table, wondering what submarine at sea he could spare to go off on this "important mission." Only two submarines could truly be spared, one of which was the CNS Dragonfish. The Dragonfish was a completely new design of nuclear attack submarine. It had a ceramic hull, which reduced internal and external noise by a huge margin and enabled it to dive thousands of feet deeper. The only hitch was this: The Dragonfish was still undergoing sea trials. His attention turned to the final candidate.

CNS Dawnwatch.

Dawnwatch was steaming through the Northern Ocean to the south of Ceneria, on her way to the waters north of Carloso. Her mission was purely routine, and she could easily be redirected.

Mind set, Kimmerly picked up the phone on the armrest of his chair, and punched in the code for the communications center.

"Comms, this is Kimmerly. Please signal Dawnwatch to come to periscope depth to receive a EHF message. I'll come over there in a minute or two to write it up."

"Okay, admiral. We'll signal her right away."

"Thanks, comms." Kimmerly placed the phone back in it's cradle and stood. He had his three submarines, although only god and the President knew where they would be going.

by **Dralka** » Tue Mar 24, 2015 7:24 pm

The Keep of the Ascendant

It was still raining when morning came, although the main storm had passed. Glory, honor, duty, valor, strength. Cassandra Vellis repeated the words over and over again in her mind like a religious mantra. She was tall and powerfully built. She sat on her small bed in a meditative stance, her eyes closed. A tattoo of a cross was over her left eye, the black of the cross making her light grey eyes more visible, her bleached white air was long, but was kept in a ponytail behind her head. She served as the bodyguard of the Marshall, Averi being a lifelong friend of hers.

Despite outward appearances, Dralkar was a matriarchy of sorts. It was almost always the women who were seen as the bread earners, the men always being the classic defenders of home. It was an overall culture seen as odd, maintaining many legends due to the simple fact that no one knew what was inside the Ice Wastes, and that few people ever ventured deep into forests unless they were hunting or very military training. Legends, myths, and history blended into one.

They were seen a rather serious by most ‘outsiders’(as people outside of the Dagon community are known[The Dagon and Dralkar Cultures are incredibly similar and commonly seen as the same, the overall culture being known as Dagon.]), but internally they are quite a lively group. This outward appearance has led to a low number of immigrants to the country, and an even lower amount of emigration. The people commonly saw war as almost something holy, not that see war as a religious endeavor, but holy beyond all reason to their legends and myths, such as the Ascendant, and the Vamprics; but that is not to say they saw war as the only answer.

Strength had been the key to the states survival and progress. Those with strength had survived, those who had not had been honored, but ultimately seen as not having as much strength as those who had lived.

Cassandra opened her eyes looking about her room. She adorned her armor, made from a type carapace that was being experimented with, as a lighter version of flak armor. The scientists working on the armor hoped to eventually equip the Raven Guard, and the normal military with the armor if it proved successful, and later the Banshees who were to be an a fighting force even more elite than the Raven Guard, and the Phantoms who were to serve as the Dralkar special forces.

Her armor was segmented and form fitting, with inlaid teeth from wolves are big cats along the shoulder pieces, currently, there was no helmet to go with armor, but their was a half-mask with an emblazoned red raven silhouette in the center of it, which she commonly wore over her angular face.

She picked up her CZ-805 BREN, and put a leather belt of magazines with an automatic pistol in a holster along the belt along the slender waist of the armor. She pulled back the bolt of the rifle and made sure the safety was on, her finger always ready to press down on the button to set it to off if a threat presented itself, lastly she put an ornate strap around her shoulder to a connection point at her waste, that had a sheathed single-edged sword on it. She opened the door to her chamber which was about twenty feet from her master’s room. She took a position outside her door, prepared to defend her friend at even the cost of her own life.

It was near midday, the birds chirping outside and flying from tree to tree. Children ran on the sidewalks, their parents trying to keep them somewhat under control, as a military procession made it’s way through the area, celebrating their recent victories, and the conceding of the Avon Sal and the Thera Abis to the Federation. Overhead solid black jets flew overhead, followed by a group of grey and red jets, and white and green fighters.

Averi was sitting at a circular table, three naval officers on either side and in front of her: Chosen Vlay Cronis, Lord Admiral Olaf Draken, and Lord Admiral Crix Avongal. “As most of you may know, I am currently wishing to both reorganize our navy, and increase it’s size. I need your help on this.” Averi began, she didn’t need to go any farther.

“We should make three types of fleets.” Avongal said that almost immediately after Averi finished.

“Agreed. I would say we have Patrol Fleets, designated by their small numbers and lack of an Aircraft Carrier, Task Fleet, comprised of one carrier, and at least one destroyer, and a War Fleet, comprising of when possible two to three Aircraft carriers, four to five Destroyers.” Cronis offered.

“I would agree with that, but under our current fleet numbers we would have at most one Warfleet and that is it.” Draken replied.

“Don’t go by what we have now, base it off of what would make sense.” Averi made sure to keep things on track, jotting down notes every few moments as the discussion progressed.

“What about a Naval air force? We currently only have sixty F-14Ds across four carriers, only having fifteen aircraft available to defend our fleet is quite a risk.” Draken stated after someone had brought up the need for air support.

“We will need to get at the very least ten more for each carrier, and if we increase our forces further it would not be a bad idea to equip the carriers with jump-jets or A-6Es.”

“We need to address our lack of submarines before worrying about jump jets and A-6#s that are a luxury to those who make overseas operations, currently we are not, but we only five submarines that are combat capable, only one of which is nuclear, although the others are small and fast, if we get blockaded, being small and fast will not help us death with enemy subs that are at depths below what we can get to.” Cronis retorted.

“We should begin development of a small nuclear powered group of submarines meant for our navy. There's no point in making them large if we do have to, the larger they are the more costly, the more crew needed to work them, and if they are small they are maneuverable, and we can give them larger torpedo tubes, possibly more if then two if needed.” Avongal offered.

“Hit and run, reliable way to go. We don’t have the numbers for sustained engagements yet, but if we can keep them at bay we may be able to get support from our allies of the Dagon, and if in dire need from outsiders like the Unity of Imperial States.” Draken said slowly, throughout this Averi writing more notes and ideas as they flowed back and forth.

“If we have to rely on others to save us, we are not strong enough to be worth defending. We have to be able to rely on ourselves if the worst comes.” Cronis thought out loud.
“We will have to make do with what we can get, we will fight to whatever bitter end may come if it comes to that.” Avongal answered.

“I think we are finished here then.” Averi ended the meeting there, the Admirals having spent the better part of three hours debating, offering, suggesting, and taking down ideas. They all got up, at attention, in addition to AVeri who eyed each of them carefully. “Dismissed.” Each of the men left, one after another, into the wood floored main hall of the Keep, the shoes making the clicking sounds each time they struck it’s service.

Averi had some decisions to make, as she prepared to go to her kitchen and prepare some food for herself and Cassandra who had waited, ever vigilant, outside the doorway. Before she moved for the kitchen, she had the reorganization orders sent to the Naval Command based in Saint Sandra, ordering them to organize four patrol fleets,two tasks fleet, and single war fleet under the specifications suggested, although the war fleet’s number of destroyers would only be numbering two, in addition to the Dark Hunter, the only 21st century submarine to be put on alert.

by **Dralka** » Wed Mar 25, 2015 6:15 pm

*Bump*

by **Creatle** » Wed Mar 25, 2015 6:32 pm

(OOC)

Im still slightly confused about what this is all about?

by **Dralka** » Wed Mar 25, 2015 6:38 pm

Creatle wrote:(OOC)

Im still slightly confused about what this is all about?

by **Creatle** » Wed Mar 25, 2015 6:41 pm

(OOC) oh k, I thought that originally but reading on it got confusing a little, may I join this? because of course im concerned that another nation is particle violent against another nation I want to step in and try to make sure peace is assured if not possible, I will use force to retain peace (kinda like America in middle east, but not to just steal all the oil)

by **Dralka** » Wed Mar 25, 2015 6:43 pm

Creatle wrote:(OOC) oh k, I thought that originally but reading on it got confusing a little, may I join this? because of course im concerned that another nation is particle violent against another nation I want to step in and try to make sure peace is assured if not possible, I will use force to retain peace (kinda like America in middle east, but not to just steal all the oil)

by **Creatle** » Wed Mar 25, 2015 6:54 pm

After receiving word of a large military build up of forces, the current president of Creatle sent a telegram to the leader of Dralka.

"It has come to my attention that you have recently begun a large build up of military forces, acknowledging that Dralka has been hostile recently to other nations. Therefore I have requested that you make do with your current military force, I wish for a peace over the land. If you attempt and invasion I will have no choice to step in"

by **Creatle** » Wed Mar 25, 2015 7:19 pm

President Chance became increasingly worried, with no response from Dralka he started to believe that an attack against other nations has already begun, he must have Intel.

James Chance ordered a meeting with his military advisors.

"Gentlemen as you may know, recent military build-ups have been reported in Dralka and no response from them have been received, we need to know what is happening, any suggestions?"

"We could send in some intelligence officers," says the Director of the Secret Service, "Get information from them, you know"

"How about we send in a drone to take surveillance pictures, its much faster then sending in spies and we can get Intel faster" Says the Defence Minister.

"None of this is going to work, I guess we should just wait, if we send in drones they'll get shot down, spies take to long," Replies the President, "Gentlemen looks like were done here."

All but the President gets up and leaves,

"What am I going to do"

by **Scandova** » Wed Mar 25, 2015 8:49 pm

Aeion, Scandova
March 25th, 2015

The sound of traffic far below was relaxing; a white-noise. President Jakob Sorokin sat, alone, at the oak conference table on the 80th floor of the massive skyscraper that was the Scandovan Capitol building. His opened slowly, slightly adjusting the the dim light that was the neon glow of Aeion's streets at night through the window. Finally, the thick door opened, and his chief Foreign Adviser, Joshua Steele, entered, flanked by two FSO-9 Security officers.

"This is the second time this month we've had a meeting like this, Josh. I hope you have some good news for me this time around."
The only immediate reply was a grimace from the second man, before sliding a thick envelope across the table to the President.
"I'm afraid not. The Federation of Dralka."

Sorokin raised an eyebrow. "The Dralkans? Last time I checked they were a half-failed state."

"I'm afraid the situation has changed, Jake. Far right-wing party took hold earlier this year; began a massive re-armament campaign as well as vocally calling for their own expansion, conquering, and eventual hegemony over the Niskas continent. They've already begun strikes against Jalka, their largest regional adversary. Their early successes have led the Cenerians to move towards sanctions and war."

The President bit his lip. He had seen situations like this before, namely in Arkava- where the Scandovan intervention had been bloody, but had stopped a nationalist, militaristic regime from expanding to Scandova's maritime borders.

"Alright, send the 17th Tactical to hover off their coast for now. I want contact with the Cenerians, the Jalkans, and Dralkans all. Get me a direct line, I don't want any bureaucratic bullshit to slow this down."

To: The Federation of Dralka
From: The Capitalist Republic of Scandova
Encryption: Diplomatic 2

Be aware that Scandova and her peoples have witnessed your unwarranted aggression of your Jalkan neighbors, and we are prepared to take all necessary action in order to halt the expansion of an expressly militaristic regime. We request that you;

1. Withdraw your forces from all sovereign foreign territory; whether it be land or maritime.
2. Allow for peacekeeping forces to establish a de-militarized zone between the borders of the two currently-warring nations.

If these, and both of these requests are followed, then our forces will be put on stand-down. Until that time occurs, however, Scandova is in a state of mobilization against Dralka and her allies. If you do not comply, then we will have no choice but to deploy our forces in the region in order to halt your unwarranted and imperialistic aggression. Be aware that we will not hesitate to use the full extent of our military power to bring about dismantlement of your current regime, if we deem it necessary to do so.

Signed,

To: Ceneria
From: The Capitalist Republic of Scandova
Encryption: Diplomatic 5

We have noticed your mutual interest in halting Dralkan aggression in the Niskas region, and we suggest that we create a temporary joint command should tensions escalate so that our two nation's forces can better orchestrate their efforts against our common enemy.

Best wishes to you and your people.

Signed,

by **Creatle** » Wed Mar 25, 2015 9:57 pm

James sat in the office, he was fresh from a good nights sleep but he still had no idea on what to do about the Dralka's. After hearing news from the recent invasions and no known response from, he would have no choice. He had to step in and act, he wouldn't allow another nation to fall.

Now the only problem was the fact that the UPR was a good distance from Jalka, his air force would be able to reach them in a day, but the army would have to be hauled along the ocean for at least 2 days, 2 days can be a lifetime, especially when your in a war. This would be a large setback but the air force may be able to hold off Dralka until the Navy arrives.

He hit the button to make contact with his secretary, "Helen, can you please get me the admiral and Defence Minister into the office, as soon as possible"

"Yes, Sir. Anything else?" She Replied

"No, that is all" As James Got up and walked around the large oval desk.

by **Creatle** » Wed Mar 25, 2015 10:38 pm

After having a detailed discussion with the Fleet Admiral and Defence Chief, the President ordered the 7th Fleet and 8 squadrons of different sorts of planes to land and defend at Jalka until relieved. The Air Force was due to arrive at Jalka in 1 hour while the Navy were 1 and a half days away. James hoped this would end peacefully and Dralka would stop at Jalka, but this was a fantasy, James knew what war was like, he lived through one and he knew that they will drag out if nothing is done, hopefully though if he could stop Dralka while it was still contained he might be able to reason some sought of peace treaty into ending this conflict.

by **The Nation of Ceneria** » Thu Mar 26, 2015 1:50 pm

To: Jakob Sorokin, President, Capitalist Republic of Scandova
From: The Desk of the President of Ceneria
Subject: Previous Communiqué
Encryption: Diplomatic C

President Sorokin--

We were extremely relieved to receive your recent message regarding the situation in Dralka. Our current deployment to the Niskas region includes five surface ships and three attack submarines. Our current ground capacity in the area is extremely limited, and we will thus not be able to mobilize any land troops in the region for at least one month. Air support in the area is also subject to the availability of friendly airfields, although the acquirement of several of these will enable us to begin ground mobilization.

Due to the rather, shall we say, likely prospect of the current conflict escalating, joint command would probably be a very smart idea. We are willing to dispatch representatives of our military to your command, as you are geographically closer to the region than we are. The joint command could be centered around one of our naval contingents.

Thank you for your message. Hopefully, collaboration will lead us to peace.

Cordially,

President Samuel McLaughlin, Leader of Ceneria

by **Creatle** » Thu Mar 26, 2015 3:13 pm

(OOC)

Is Ceneria against of with Dralka,

by **Creatle** » Thu Mar 26, 2015 3:22 pm

Late afternoon and the sun glares into the presidential office, James was sitting, reading reports of the landing. It was successful and were mobilising to the front lines to defend against Dralka. This would be a tough battle, but James was willing to help defend Jalka. If Dralka was able to take any more countries nothing would prevent him from making a amphibious assault in Creatle.

James got up and walked to the window, with the sun glaring through the window, it casted a movie like silhouette in the office

by **Dralka** » Thu Mar 26, 2015 3:36 pm

Creatle wrote:Late afternoon and the sun glares into the presidential office, James was sitting, reading reports of the landing. It was successful and were mobilising to the front lines to defend against Dralka. This would be a tough battle, but James was willing to help defend Jalka. If Dralka was able to take any more countries nothing would prevent him from making a amphibious assault in Creatle.

James got up and walked to the window, with the sun glaring through the window, it casted a movie like silhouette in the office

OOC: Careful with progression speed here, I was going quickly before out of a need to keep things interesting for myself before other nations joined in. Added, if you were moving that quickly, ships being lost to the Straights would be incredibly likely, if not the majority, since the sailors would have a very small understanding of the ice-straights, which as I stated before, are very hazardous.

Lighting the Fires(MT|Open)

Lighting the Fires(MT|Open)

Detailed Map of Dralka

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