With monarchy behind us! [at-closed]

[Imeriata]

As a nation where the different communes of Fralysia not much to look at ruled by an iron fisted government of trade unions officially collectively owned by the people all chipping in for one another as they lived in poverty and so where system to be if the trade unions had something to say about the situation, and with the might of their union militias so did the people have nothing to say about it. Those who did however disappeared never to be heard from again. This way would probably the nation continued if it hadn't been for a small incident at sea where a ship belonging to the royal merchant guild where sunken, this resulted in a cry of outrage from the federal subjects as memories from the civil war almost a century earlier, riots and protests where what followed until the Imerian crown saw this as a reason to finally liberate the region from the evil clutches of syndicalism, so a before to soon did the regiments marched, thousands upon thousands of boots hit the streets all over the federation as the guard marched to battle. Amongst the armies raised could even the 94th army or the 1th foreign auxiliary as it also where known as.

The first battles raged across the seas and here could the federation taste its first victories as the syndicalist fleets where quickly overrun by the massive federal fleet and forced to withdraw to the island chain in the north where it conducted hit and run attacks against the federation. Now do the second part of the plan come into effect as the first three armies will land, at the northern parts have the fleet attached to the 6th Erathian army begun to land, in the central part of the hostile nation have the 2nd Taranakan army landed and in the southern peninsula have the 1th foreign auxiliary army begun to make landfall.

The 94th army fleet
The two officers stood on the deck as they watched as the first ships where put into the ocean and two white lines begun to form after the small landing ships as the cannons of the ships themselves started to roar and the explosions that immediately followed started to rip away parts of the shoreline.
"well my high lord-captain!" the first begun "it would seem as our war have started!"
"Yes lord-second the first steps towards victory!" he said as even more and more boats carrying the men of the 1th foreign auxiliary to the shores and the first battlefield of the war.

those regiments who had no noble officers from their own homeland will have noble officers from Imeriata and the other regiments will have their officers being the noblemen that followed.

As for regiments will the Imerian regiments be consisting of 1 000 men instead of the normal numbers.

(The exception being the Alfegoisse forward scout attachments on both accounts)

[Orcoa]

Captain Hans Irontooth drinks with his fellow orcoans in the mess hall in the ship, his face scarred beyond repair, his one eye grey with age and wisedom while his other has a eye patch on it from losing it in a long ago battle. His grey beard is wet with beer as he drinks the ale from his cup.

"Ok boys, we have are ourselves a war to fight in, lets so them pussies how Orcoan men fight!" said Captain Hans, his men cheer and sing songs of joy and battle.

[Greater Tezdrian]

OOC: Okay, the OP was confusing and unclear, but reference was made to foreign auxiliaries landing on the southern peninsula. I'm just going to assume that is the Iberian looking part of the landmass, and make land fall there.

There is the map, with the purple being my regiment. IC'll come later, but I just wanted you to know.

[Ramsetia]

Stark white uniforms contrasted the dark waters of the sea around the pale-gray ship, the pair of Ramset Nobles standing at the bow of the Silver-class Transport, the satiny material of their off-kilter caps showing off a proud, if dull shine. Neither one wore the custom-made armour that their regiment was known for, yet. Only the shortened tunic that was worn beneath it, the source of the blinding, snow-white colour that made their silhouettes easily viewed
"First Deployment" Knight-lieutenant Anlee said, slowly, carefully caressing the long, straight blade that he had brought with him in lieu of a bayonet. The highly-polished weapon was beautiful in it's own way, perfect geometry, swirls of protective oils to save the Ramset steel from corrosion. It's sharp edges, and the blunt tip that gave the straightblade it's distinctive shape. It was oddly unlike the man that held it, it's graceful edges would suit more a dancer or actor than the soldier's grasp.

A former Ordinator, before coming to Imeriata to form the Shieldless, Anlee Kubrick Santana was an oddly average man, an athletic build with a certain width to it, his frame supporting the tailored tunic and padded vest as though it had always been destined to do so. His sandy blonde hair was tugged and pulled in the wind, the careful braiding of his facial hair swaying and whipping about over the polished gold throat-guard that showed his rank when the epaulettes of his uniform were obscured by the pauldrons his regiment favoured.
"First deployment amongst a multinational army fighting for monarchies everywhere...The blessing of Jericho Helena herself behind us, and Odin and Ra's kin both keeping us safe...Glorious" The Lieutenant to Kubrick's side said, short blue hair tugged up beneath his cap, and a silvered throat guard resting against the man's collarbones.

Kubrick turned his somewhat scarred face towards his subordinate, laughing softly
"Glory, huh?" he asked, without a hint of Imerian formality. He lifted his straightblade slowly in one hand, spinning the weapon idly, but artfully by the large loops at the pointer finger and pommel, the blade whistling through the air as Kubrick gave a display that even the masters of the straightblade would have been impressed to see. the empress'es colours tied in a scarf-knot around the pommel-hoop, slashing Ramset Purple through the air behind the weapon, and reminding Kubrick of his desert home.
"Glory it is, then. Tell the men to get ready." Kubrick said, waiting until the Lieutenant had left before ceasing the display in a salute, blade held perfectly straight and vertical, saluting the enemy. An old habit, perhaps, but one that Kubrick would eagerly ingrain into the shieldless. Respect your opponent, they may be the ones to walk home victorious today. Kubrick turned on his heel, sheathing his sword and walking with the sound of metal-shod toes against the decking wood back below decks, heading for his own quarters, sword held by it's pommel hoop to keep it out from under the legs of the ship's crewmen as the vessel made it's approach to the peninsula...

[Agadar]

Knight-lieutenant Lord Roger of Ordenia observed the shoreline through his binoculars as the transport ship he was on brought them closer and closer. "What are the high command's orders, sir?" one of his lieutenants asked. "I'm yet to receive further orders," Ordenia replied whilst still looking through his binoculars, "We are to secure the beach and await further instructions." The lieutenant saluted and walked towards a group of fellow officers to inform them of this.

When the first transport ship landed on the shore, the first IFV's immediately rode out to secure the beach. There were a total of 100 IFV's, each IFV holding 10 men. Ordenia had his own personal IFV which was converted to a mobile communication centre. From there he contacted his superiors on the fleet. "This is knight-lieutenant Roger of Ordenia of the Agadarian Iron Dragoons," he spoke through a secured channel, "We are securing the beach as I speak and we require further instructions. Over."

[Orcoa]

Captain Hans Irontooth readys his men for the coming battle, he drinks a bit of beer to keep him calm and not go into rage. Orcoan's boats get near the shore

[Wolohanistan]

The Wolohanistan Guard were kitted up, they checked their pouches and ammunition several times. Satisfied with their preperations the most senior Wolohanistani amongst them motioned for them to take a seat. The men bagan muttering in Wolcyr, hoping that their Imerian officer couldn't speak their toungue.
"I'm not too sure about this man who is to lead us" On trooper said,
"Remember our obligations, it's not our place to question him yet, he hasn't betrayed the five honours." another said
"Will he even know what the five honours are!?" One asked.
A brazen faced trooper grunted,
"I doubt it"

Their transport ship was fairly modest. Their ragged standard flew on a rusted pole in the stale wind. Several men winced at the ocean air. It was unfamiliar and the taste hung in their mouths. Despite their discomfort they regained their stony expressions. Their ship was getting ever closer to the battered shore. They awaited their orders.

[Imeriata]

Imerian high command southern front

"My Jarl commander!" one of the men at the communication array shouted toward the old man as he stood with a couple of officers a model depicting the nation they were invading as servants moved models depicting both enemy troop moments and their own forces.
The commander turned towards the annoying sound and nodded to give the man a nod to show that the commoner had his approval to speak.
"My Jarl commander!" the commoner said as he bowed before the commander of the entire army that had begun their advance upon this foothold of syndicalism "the knight lieutenant of the Agadarian Iron Dragoons wishes to receive orders my Jarl commander!" the man gave the map a look before he said "there is a fortified city about a mile north of their position that we would need to take if we wishes to be able to provide equipment and supplies!" he said as he looked up from the map "order them to approach the city and hold the position until we can get a attachment of artillery or if their knight lieutenant thinks that they would be able to break through so do they have my permission to do so!"

[Neo Prutenia]

Rothands Regiment,
just before the landing

Inside one of the Transports of the Imeriatan Monarchy, 10 companies of the noble Rothand Regiment were awaiting their orders. They were preparing their equipment and going over needed supplies, support, numbers and tactics. For this mission, there were 4 Infantry and for Jäger Companies chosen, as well as two Companies from the Field Artillery. Styling themselves above the rabble and ploting how to win this war, the Redhands were eager to gain their mission objectivves and invade. The Oberstleutnant, Knight Lieutenant in the Imeriatan nomenclature, Wilhelm "Willie" Obermaier von Regensburg was already talking with his superiors. He soon came back with the mission objective.

Entering the messhall of the Companies, he ordered his subordinates to raise a projector and turn of the light, to darken the room and make the picture more clear. He inserted the geographic data into the machine and let the lightshow do the work. A map of the Land, as well as the general area were the Redhands are to operate could be seen. After making sure that everyone was listening, and saw the image, he adressed his men:

" Liebe Herren, what you see before you is the enemy's Nation. The part of the land shadowed in black is to be taken and secured by Rothands Regiment. A sizable enemy force is present there, as well as three fortress facilities. Our Regiment is to dislodge the enemy forces and take over or destroy the forts in the region. Those instalations have artillery batteries which might prove to be detrimental to our naval forces. We cannot allow subjects of the Monarchy to get harmed by these enemy facilities. It is our imperative to take them down. Have I made myself clear!? "

" Yes, Herr Oberstleutnant! " shouted the men in unision.

" Excellent. Start the initial preparations for the landing. We shall start on the southernmost tip and work ourselves up, meter for bloody meter! "

The men started to meticulously prepare the entire operation, each and everyone of them working in perfect synchrony, setting an example of discipline and organization. As the men were working, a choir began to sing the anthem of Imeriata, with the support of the band. Many amongst the soldiers joined in and sang the text in English. While the Anthem invigorated their spirits and reminded them of their obligations to their host, the ship was closing in on the shore. Soon, they will have to disembark and fight the enemy. The Companies were prepared and gathered.

Then the Commander stepped in front of them, along with the Chaplains of the Regiment. The choir went into the background, and the band proudly stepped forward. Utter silence before the storm, every Prut stands firm and proper, their heads looking proudly forward. Then the band starts playing the Anthem of the Prut, 10 trumpets echo through the ship. The old Flag of the Homeland is held by two soldiers, standing next to the Commander. The Chaplains move through the ranks of the standing Prut, blessing each soldier for the comming conflict. First come the Infantrists, then the Skirmishers and then last, but not least, the Artillerists. As the song draws to its end, the Flag is put back into the Regiments Vault, the soldiers salute in quiet with their weapons and begin to man the smaller boats.

As the 2 Landing Platform Docks were manned, each carrying 500 men evenly divided, as well as the necessary hardware and materiel, the Imeriatan Warfleet unleased a barrage on the coastal area to cover for the Landing Expedition. The Ships started their journey towards the coast. Soon, the land will hear the thunderous sound of determined Prut Combat Boots.

[Fralysia]

"TO THE SHORES!" the corporal of the militia shouted as the men rushed forth in their leather coats to jump the hastily created ridge they had built and fortified with concrete the day before as the news of the fleets defeat had reached even this community. The shock that reached them when they reached the shore where huge as the once peaceful beach where they had bathed with their children and wives only weeks earlier where now covered in craters and ripped apart by shells. But by some miracle had the ridge survived and the two thousand or so men that had been organized from the villages in the area rushed to their defenses and what readied their weapons. The corporal or Emanuél as his name where looked down the gently sloping shore to see if he could find the enemy and yes there out on the sea could he see the first wave of ships as they begun to make their way to the shore. The sight did grip his hearth with terror as he had never fought in his life before and the thought of dying here defending his homeland from some invading force where not really something he looked forward to, but then again if he didn't do it, who would?

so as he swallowed the fear did he looked at his comrades that where readying themselves over the line and in fact had someone already risen the red flag of their homeland on a couple of places and the heavier equipment as the few cannons and machine guns were being readied to meet the oncoming storm. As he saw how his comrades stood next to him ready to stand up for syndicalism and against masters, kings and oppression of the working class where his fear replaced with something else, with rage. How did those cursed invaders even dear to attack his homeland? His family?
"COME ON THEN YOUR COWARDS WHAT ARE YOU WATING FOR?" he shouted at the top of his lungs towards the fleet and the boats that were heading towards them. The cry did die out but where quickly followed by others as men and women shouted insults and taunts towards their corrupted and hatred enemy.

[Wolohanistan]

The Wolohanistani ship surged forward, the shore was drawing ever closer. The men ran to their positions, they had been informed that rather than the non-humans being sent in first- as the Imeretians are wont to do- that they would be sent in to establish a beach head. The CO assured them this was because they were "The best of the best!"

Standing in neat rows, they awaited the dull thud that signalled their arrival. A few moments remained to prepare. A few lit cigarettes while another made sure his webbing fit perfectly. Then, it came.
thud

The door on the front of the craft swung open with a deafening, mettalic creak and the Wolohanistan guard charged onto the beach.
For a while, their advance was going well then the clattering of enemy machineguns filled the air. Unfourtunately, the heavy bombardment hadn't destroyed the defenses, however, the craters it created left valuable cover. Looking back, a few man had fallen to the machine guns. Luckily, they were close enough to the ship to be dragged back by a team of brave medics.

An NCO ordered a standard advance, heavy covering fire was laid down while fire teams rapidly advanced. Inch by inch they got closer to the Syndicalists first line of defence. They had just about reached a forward trench and with minimal casualties, hearing worried chattering the Wolohanistanis knew the enemy was nearby. An order was given to fix bayonets and prepare grenades.

The first few grenades flew through the air, and the remaining men followed suit. After their grenades had detonated, they planned to storm the first trench and then split into two groups. One for each hardpoint.

They hoped the Ramsetians and the Orcoans would arrive soon, they simply didn't have enough men to storm both the fortifications.

[Ramsetia]

Ramset 'shieldless' regiment, Transport ship.
Kubric stepped from his quarters with the loud rasp of metal and wood against leather, sliding home his Imerian sidearm in the shoulder holster attached to his cuirass. Thick gloves were wrapped gently around a small slip of paper, a last-minute message with a change of orders. He could feel the ship's every lurch beneath him so much more precisely than the cushioned sways of an airship. The strange surrounds lending a sense of adventure to the affair, the odd equipment making it seem less real. The bare trigger finger and thumb of each hand traced slowly over the texture of the paper as he came to a stop facing his regiment, lined up in columns and arranged in superior squadrons. He rolled the sheet and slipped it into the purple sash tied around the waist of his armour.

"Sons of Ramsetia" he called, his voice calm, piercing and direct. He didn't need to raise his voice, having had more than enough experience in these manners to make himself heard. The shield less came to attention with a resounding crash of metal-on-deck. All eyes were locked on Kubrick from beneath the tilted caps they wore, golden eagle feathers glistening lightly, an almost holy appearance under the ready area's lights
"It appears our non-human comrades have had trouble developing a landing zone. We are to relieve them ahead of schedule. Our target is a small city on the western reach of the peninsula, chosen to attempt to stretch the local forces over a wider area." There was no map provided for his soldiers, they had been studying maps and charts for much of the journey here, getting to know the lay of the land as best they could.
"We will be providing the right flank, Wolohanistan's regiments will be the center, and beyond them, the Orcoan Berzerkers" Kubrick stopped for a moment, glad his cheek plates would hide the look of disapproval at the Orcoan methods. A clear mind was needed for a fight, not unbridled rage and heady drunkenness. He continued pacing ahead of the 19 men of his personal superior squadron.
"We are shock infantry. It is our job to hit hard, to hit fast, to move on and spread our influence further. This is our duty, and it's our honour to preform this for Imeriata. Rifles at the ready at all times, and a mind to your work, Ramset. To your landing craft."

The speech was short, the echoes it sent through the Ramset shock infantry, the shieldless, as those back home had come to call them, were muted, understated. They turned to the sides, and began to march in double file to each landing craft, the metal armour they wore sounding out and calling a drum-beat of readiness. charging handles on rifles were pulled back as they stepped into the landing craft, counting off without a word. Kubrick turned to his own squad, pointing wordlessly to their transport.

The landing boats were lowered to the water, cranes creaking softly as they took the strain of the heavily-armoured and equipped Ramset warriors within, landing vessels motors spinning even before the craft had splashed to the ocean, pulling away from the silver-class transport with it's iconic 'broken shield' markings. Knights and Squires looking carefully through monoculars, old-fashioned spyglasses, at the growing shoreline, spotting the hasty fortifications built by the militia on this side of the island. It looked to be an easy fight. Too easy, even. It made Kubrick feel ill at ease as he packed the spyglass away in his kit bag. The superior squadron commanders selected landing points for their vessels, close to the Wolohanistani landing points.

Western peninsula shoreline, southern edge of Wolohanistani landing zone
The first of the landing craft edged itself up onto shore, the flat bottom that had made the ride so uncomfortable letting the angled and armoured bow of the vessel to ride higher onto the gray, rocky shoreline. There was an odd silence, and a slow, metallic creaking, followed by the slightest of hisses as the door was released from it's locks, allowed to swing down and drop.

The crash of the ramp against the rocky coastline was drowned out by sudden automatic fire from the first rank. Ineffective sprays intended to suppress and pin down hostile forces. The specially-shortened KVDs were lifted, barrels smoking as the shock infantry began to rush the beaches. Purple caps flopped and bounced behind the charging ramset, stumbled and battered by enemy fire, bouncing and ricocheting off their angled and curved cuirasses, only rarely managing to find purchase against tender flesh, the shock troops left where they lay, as the militia began to recover from the initial surprise. Kubrick's landing craft was one of the last ones up onto the beach, the Ramset forces having taken up station near the Wolohanistani forces, dragging their own wounded into the craters in kind once they had managed to form a suppressive line.

Kubrick split his superior squad, leaving the secondary command squad to monitor and maintain the Ramset line as the career soldier moved through to the Wolohanistani ranks, the bright white of his uniform clashed with their relatively drab combat gear, but they would likely be thankful, as it made the Ramset even bigger targets. He kneeled down slowly, blonde hair tucked into his cap, and his beard's braids bound into a single long line
"Who's in charge?" he said in that piercing voice, directing his question at a squad's officer, looking for the Wolohan CO.

[Wolohanistan]

The Wolohanistani's let out a breif cheer when they saw the ramsetians arrive. A few even chuckled at their garish appearance but now wasn't the time for that.
In response to the blonde-haired officer's question, a Wolohanistani who was missing several teeth replied in heavily accented english.
"If you're looking for that blue-blood he's bleeding out back on the ship, got too cocky and caught a bullet in the collar bone. For now I suppose you'll be speakin' with Krugghat."
With the mention of his name, Krugghat turned his bulky figure to the ramsetian.
"About time you 'setians got here, we're about to go over the top."
He motioned with an outstreched hand.
"See them bunkers that've been givin' us such a "hard time"? we're gonna storm them.
A few troopers raised their fists and whooped
"And your lot's going to help us, yeah? Better your lot rather than those orcoans. Sure we've got fighting folk like that back home but ours a diff'rent. They're just reckless, a liability even."

He looked over the parapet, it looked as if their grenades had done their job.
"Shall we?" Krugghat said with mock politeness.

[Orcoa]

Machine gun nest fire away at Orcoan's transport boats, bullets flying and men falling dead by the firing of the nest. Captain Hans and his squad get on to the beach and try to secure the spot. Orcoans fire back with rifles and throw grendaes at the nest, trying to secure the beach. Captain Hans pulls out his hand weapon, a large axe.

"Come sons of Orcoa, let us send these bastards to hell!!!!!!!!!!!" roared Hans, his squad and the others in the thousand strong regiment go up to the nest and kill all in them. The gun nest flood with the blood of the rebels and the cries of the dying fill the air like a great opera of battle

[McConia]

"Ready yourselves men" said the paladin in chaRGE OF The McConian Swamp Rat Regiment with 1,000 of the special soldiers endowed to Imeritia. He piled onto the airboatcommand chair where he would direct one of the twenty airboats that would bring them to their objective point.
Their objective was to capture a large supply station near the large lake that could be reached only by a 15 minute ride through the swampy passes that could only be surpassed by an airboat.
His 1,000 soldiers were armed with M14 rifles, they were prized for their ability to punch through the deep foliage of their objective area. A few of his soldiers had bazookas in case of any enemy armor unit, or to punch through enemy fortifications.
Each of his airboats held 50 soldiers, on the bow a .50 caliber machinegun was mounted, and near the command deck a 7.62 caliber to protect the commander and driver.
As they cranked up, the air boats went down the river, single file, alowly. They had to make it up the river without losing to many soldiers and they couldn't lose any boats.

Objectives for the Rats

[Ramsetia]

RWO-held beach
Kubrick nodded with a smirk. "Give us a minute" he said, calmly "See you behind those bunkers" His own heavy accent might have not been so easily understood, but the eager look beneath the protective plates over his face should have told the Wolohanistanis what he was thinking.
The blonde-haired Ramset turned around, shortened rifle held close to his chest as he crouch-ran back to his deployment, gauntleted right arm already in the air, pumping a fist sharply
"Rifles up! Over the top! Go!" he yelled, angling his course slowly up the scarred shoreline. It had been pre-planned that at least a superior squad would remain with the wounded to stabilise and protect them until the fortifications were taken, and the three groups could take a breather before moving onto the small city that overlooked the rough, gray shoreline. The charcoal-blackened pockmarks of shell craters providing more an obstacle than a benefit to the Ramset group, their heavy armour not slowing them in the least as they eagerly charged up the hill.

Militiamen began to slowly peek over the ridge once again, the suppressive effect of the grenades and runs of heavy, large-calibre rifle ammunition not lasting forever. Potshots would rain down on the ramset and wolohani forces, countered by rapid snap-shots from the Ramset group, running at full tilt, and managing to keep their bullets flying in the right direction. Their rifles cut-down nature having sacrificed any subtlety they might have had, the shortened weapons lacking anything to suppress the muzzle flash, or muffle the noise of their report. It was a shocking, fearsome and terrific display to see the lead ranks empty their extended magazines before dropping their rifles to hang, screaming an aggressive tone as they leaped the first lot of sandbags and driftwood, the makeshift lines between the bunkers and the shore.

The Ramset were drawing sidearms and long blades as they fell onto the surviving militiamen behind these first minor fortifications, too close to the base of the bunkers' front walls to be targets for the larger guns within. The ringing in the wolohanistani's ears from the over-loud Ramset guns faded slowly to expose the silence, over the noise of their own fighting approach. Curt and controlled grunts and hisses punctuated by the muffled thump of a sidearm pressed tight to a soldier's flesh and uniform. The white-clad shock troopers fought in silence once they had reached the enemy, a cold and efficient methodology that was nothing but at odds with the cacophony they had made in their way up the beaches.

Behind them, those greyed stones and gravel sported a few more white-clad bodies, being dragged back down to have their wounds tended, Wolohanistani and Orcoan fallen alike pulled back from the beach by the Ramset's dutiful rearguard squads, protecting their fallen allies out of duty to their common patron and fellow warriors.

[Neo Prutenia]

Rothands Regiment,
landing

The two mighty Landind Docks rammed the beach, their autocannons and armamanets ready to provide supressive fire and cover for the now emerging Redhands. The docking area opened and a pontoon bridge was quickly established for the Regiment's vehicles to safely reach land. The Redhands lost no time during the disembarking; the first wave were two 50 men platoons from the Infantrists, moving to secure the landing zone in their IFV, each of the 5 vehicles had a ten men crew, while the Skirmishers were comming right after them, travelling via Tactical Military Transports. They established a base on the beach and started leveling the terrain for their use. The bridgehead took more and more shape of a fortified landing zone.

As they expanded the bridgehead, the Commander left his ship and assumed control of the forces on land. Several scout squads of the Skirmishers, the Jäger platoons, were sent in reconnaissance vehicles to scout ahead for the main force; two groups were sent north and another two to the west. After securing their foothold, the Redhand's imperative was to find and attack the enemy force in the area. Oberstleutnant Obermaier already gave the orders to map the region and notice him about any particularities of the local terrain and infrastructure. Without detailed knowledge of the area any possible incursions into the inland might prove fatal for the Regiment.

The IFV were prepared to respond to any threat that the Scouts will warn the temporary HQ on the beach via radio. The rest of the men were leaving their respective ships and the camp was established. Most of the Jäger's were moving by foot, assissted by tankettes armed with TOW missiles, because of their smaller size and greater speed. One full company was dedicated to go north after the scouts and engage enemy forces in skirmishes, as soon as they are discovered, while the other company positioned itself west of the Foothold, to protect the flanks of the Regiment and prevent hostiles from seizing the transport ships. The Infantrists on the other hand were organized into columns and transported by the IFV and the Tactical transports, both companies along with Oberstleutnant Obermaier were moving north, towards the first bunker-fortress of the enemy.

The rest were left as guards at the landing zone. After making sure everything was fine, Obermaier ordered the advance over the radio:

" Rothänder, it is time to move. Our back is secure, our flanks are protected by our best men. Soon we will engage the enemy in the north. I want you to obliterate them. I want you to show them how the Prut in the service of her Majesty treat the enemies of the crown. Today, you will "earn your bands". Let's hear it! "

All as one shouted, from the Artillerists following the main convoy, to the Infantrists readying themselves to spill the blood of the foe, to the to the danger exposed Skirmishers, all shouted at the same time:
" Meine Hand fürs Land! "

[Lemonius]

Lemonian Non-Human Regulars,
Landing Craft, Prior to Battle

The black bodies of the Lemonian Non-Human Regiment made an imperfection in the ranks of the Imerian lines. But they would not fight alongside the Imerian troops, they would be sent ahead as fodder. Deemed "Below Humans", a view which clashed with the Lemonian's own.
The craft rolled and tipped as it crashed over the waves toward the beachhead.

"I do not like these dated weapons" One said, in native Alemix.
"Bear with it, for the moment." Another said, seeming in more authority than the others.

"They put us out there as fodder! We could easily wipe them out if we had our weapons from home." A third hissed, still in Alemix

"Hush! Combat is imminent. We shall fight alongside the rest of the Foreign Units. Treat them with respect." U7746 said, the more superior of the unit.

The Imerian noble, whom was to lead the unit, looked upon them with suspicion. Unable to comprehend their alien tounge.

U7746 turned to the Imerian, and he spoke in English. Although much of his pronounciation was wrong.
"A question, sir. What are these?" He said, holding up a bayonet.
The Noble scoffed, afixed his own bayonet and began to prod U7746.
"Ah, I see." U7746 said, pushing the bayonet away.

He attached his bayonet, and the unit followed in suit.

"This uniforms are terrible, they provide no protection" Yet another Lemonian complained.
"Enough! We fight with what we are given, just as we would do in our homeland!" U7746 ordered.

The remainder of the journey was in silence...

[Mikedor]

The Mikedorian Lancers hadn't enjoyed their crossing, having to share a small transport with their terrified horses. Trooper DeLisle swore as the ship hit yet another rough patch, causing the 500 horses in the cramped hold to desperately attempt to rear. Whilst the ropes and harnesses prevented them doing so, they didn't stop his horse, Thor, from panicking and stepping painfully on his foot. DeLisle fell backwards, hitting his head on the bulkhead and slumping into the horse dung that had accumulated. This was followed by a stream of invective that lasted for a good three minutes.
'Very impressive, Trooper', said his Squadron Commander Major Parker, 'very impressive indeed. Now, we're holding a squadron assembly in an hour, so you have just enough time to clean up that stable kit and get into uniform.
DeLisle hurried into the main mess-deck, adjusting his straps and removing his helmet, the last man to join the entire 1st Squadron. The other three squadrons had paraded earlier in turns.
The Squadron Sergeant-Major, under the watchful eyes of Major Parker and the Imerian Knight-Lieutenant who was commanding the regiment, was holding a slightly strange looking lance.
'Atten-hut!'
'Very Good, carry on Sarnt-Major!'
'At! Ease! This here is a Pattern 5 Lance. 9 Feet long, as with the former standard issue. It is however, slightly heavier, due to it's fancy tip and the resulting counterweight the boffins had to add on. Now, look closer at the tip. This is made of a mixture of tungsten and depleted uranium. Don't worry about that, the only way this'll hurt you is if you stab yourself with it, there's no danger from radiation. There's even a small lead shield behind it. This lance has been designed so that now we can finally mix it up with tanks and actually do them some damage. All you have to do is find a spot that isn't covered with reactive armour and thrust home. It'll go right through the composites, or at least, with the weight of you and your horse, it should. If there isn't a spot without reactive armour, don't worry, just stick it in anyway. Got that? Good. Now, we're landing in three hours, so go sort out your weapons. You will each be issued one Pattern 4 lance, use that on infantry, and one Pattern 5. Good luck, see you in the horse hold in two and a half hours.'
-------

The landing took the 1st Squadron alone an hour. Two of the five troops dismounted to form a skirmish line several hundred metres inland, another remained mounted and in reserve. 4 and 5 troops helped the men of the next squadron. 5 hours later, at 21:00 hours, the men, horses, and supplies were all ashore. DeLisle stood uncomfortably, feeling rain hammering down his back, carbine held close as he stood sentry.
'Another two hours and I can get some sleep, thank Odin. I'll bet it's dry back in Jorvik.'
He touched his sacred amulet and drew his head down, raising his shoulders, waiting in the rain.

[Kazerne]

21st Light Infantry Regiment
En route to beaches

Lieutenant Henreich Zoller winced mentally as the artillery began to fire down upon the Imertian ships covering the landings. Please, dear Lord, don't let our boys miss. The lieutenant was a seasoned combat veteran, but this was his first amphibious assault, and any soldier in a new environment was bound to be nervous. The landing craft sped for the beaches, pale green uniforms in all of them. As soon as they broke through the beaches and were into the countryside, the Regiment would virtually vanish. But until then, it would be a long and bloody fight.

"Gentlemen! Check your weapons, your grenades, and your aid kits! This is going to be rough, but we are Light Infantry! We strike hard and fast, and get off that beach. You hear me?"

"Hai! Hai! Hai!" The men in the landing craft roared back at him. True, the battle cry wasn't Kazernian, but it certainly had the effect of getting the blood flowing. The sound of the surf was lost as weapons began clicking off from safety, with machine gunners loading belts, riflemen double-checking actions, and heavy weapons teams readying thier light arms.

The sound of all this, however, was lost as the artillery began crashing in closer. The landing was at hand, and Zoller braced himself, as always, for the rushing embrace of hot steel and chaotic sounds.

[Imeriata]

FRALYSIA
Neo Prutenia/Ramsetia/ Orcoa/Wolohanistan landings

“FIRE! FIRE at will!” the corporal shouted as the men fired as possessed from their makeshift trench, but no matter how well they fought so did more and more men fall as tanks and more men arrived upon the shore. Even with the trench did more and more men fall as the tanks blew holes in the lines and as they fired so did their own gun prove little success as the enemy either hid in craters or as in the case with the white clad men in army did the armour they wore protected them.
“THEY COMING CLOSER!” A panicking shout on the left informed the sergeant that a wave of drooling men dressed in what looked like wolf pelts closed in waving their weapons in the air. Without even thinking did he rush over to the line
“HOLD THE LINE!” he shouted “TAKE AIM!” he shouted as the men stopped firing and aimed towards the enemy horde “FIRE!” and as he had shouted the order did a wave of hot lead met the oncoming horde “FIRE!” once more did the rifles roared and spit death “FIRE!” every time he shouted did a new wall flew against the enemies but as he shouted time and time over did the enemies came closer “ATTACH BAYONETS!” he shouted and the sounds of bayonets being attached to guns clicked “ATTACK!” and as one did the surviving militias rose up and joined the war cry as they charged the oncoming horde.

Kazerne landings

The man came running to the line of men that where digging deeper and deeper and already had a sizeable trench formed with sandbags and machine-guns had been lined up and if the information the lieutenant had been given where correct did the line reach all the way over the peninsula to stop the enemy advance. If the opinion of the lieutenant where something to go by would they break them as waves against a rock. The man finally arrived and saluted before he stopped for a moment to catch his breath. “Lieutenant the enemy has landed and is heading this way!” He said as he jumped down into the waist high trench
“Then will we take them here!” the lieutenant said before he turned towards the rest of the men “TO POSITIONS!” he shouted as the men jumped down and keeled as they took aim.

The 44th semi-mechanized battalion

“So your orders are to find this cavalry regiment that have landed in the close proximity to your position and destroy them!” the voice over the com signal said to the commanding officer.
“Order understood!” he simply answered before he switched to communication with the rest of the division.
“Men we have been ordered to find and engage a regiment of cavalry belonging to our enemy that have landed not far from here so I want mounted cavalry to spread out to act as scouts to localize our enemies! Is that understood?” he said over the communication array to the division and where rewarded with a choir of “affirmative!” and outside could he see through the lookout that the cavalry spread out as they rode out to search out the enemies and engage them with the massive armoured might that their tanks represented.

City of Marindria, southern front command

”we are getting reports of an additional regiment attempting to cross the central rivers! And on the northern front so are the reports only getting worse as the Imerians have begun massive assaults on our forces driving us backwards!” one of the general said before he pointed at the bricks that represented landing forces on the southern part of the nation “and with the demands of forcing our forces to draw northwards will we soon be unable to make a counter-attack and have to defend this city and similar important positions!” Another general pointed towards the retreating northern forces and the slow moving forces in the central region where trenches where both forces where digging themselves down “then so be it if we do not change the situation in the north will we not have anything to defend anyway! Furthermore is it the orders of high command!” he said and where met with approving nods from the rest “so we will fortify the city then?” one of the younger generals asked “yes and the ships attacking by the river will not come far!” he said as he pointed towards a city “here have we placed a sizeable force to hold the enemy back from the sea forever!” most generals did once again nodded to his proposal “so what is the plan then?” the younger general asked “we withdraw the majority of our forces to this city and the area around it and the rest are to slow down the enemy advance!” at first did most of the men looked shocked at the general before one of them spoke up “then so be it!”

[Orcoa]

The fight was short and deadly, both sides not giving a inch but after a while the bereskers had the lead. Many rebels died by Orcoan's axes and bullets, many of the rebels try to run but they are cut down by the raged filled warrior sons of Orcoa. Captain Hans sees the leader of rebels and he goes in for the kill but the leader got away from in the hate of battle.
After finishing off the last of the rebels, Captain Hans orders the bodies to be burned and any info found giving to him. He then gets to a radio man and trys to contact high command

"This is Captain Hans Irontooth of the Orcoan assault regiment, we have the beach in the north, what is our next move" said Hans Irontooth, trying to rise his voice over the gun shots from his men killing the wounded and any rebels alive

[Neo Prutenia]

Rothands Regiment,
engaging the enemy

A forward scout of the northern group relayed back a message to the Commander:

" Herr Oberstleutnant, we have made contact with the hostiles. They have fortified themselves in makeshift trenches to the North. They seem to lack serious artillery support, and they have opened fire on us. We request further instructions. "

" Obermaier here, Soldat, we recieved your message. Hold tight and draw them out of the trenches. Use smoke grenades to obscure their vision and position your fireteams to pick out everyone who tries to flee or leave the obscured area. The Main Assault Companies will flank them from North-North-West. Do not engage the enemy directly. Retreat if they try to storm you. The rest I leave to your discretion. "

" Yes, Herr Oberstleutnant! " As the Soldiers in the field were given their orders the pulled back a bit and fired smoke grenades towards the Fralysian positions and trenches, while the foot soldiers tried to find cover or went prone, preparing themselves to pick them up one by one if they try to attack them or leave the area. The second Jäger Company was moving in to assisst the scouts, bringing along their tankettes for aditional firepower. Several of them had heavy machineguns mounted and were firing into the smoke, to keep the enemy from moving. Periodically, grenades were tossed into the trenches, or at least such attempts were made by the prone Jägers who were closest to the Fralysians.

Meanwhile, the Field Artillerists were readying their ordenances to assisst the forward Jägers. Close support guns were being prepared to fire at the enemy, several Artillerists equipped with field mortars went to join the Jägers, carrying their weapons with them by hand. Meanwhile, Obermaier maneuvered his Main Force to flank the Fralysians positions, his Infantrists sitting comfly in their IFV prepared to storm over the foe's trenches and wreak havoc. Many plattons were, although mechanized, just driving via APCs behind the IFVs of the main force. The Assault group was ready to strike. Obermaier was expecting to encounter either enemy armour or at least armored vehicles behind the trenches, so he decided to punch through with the IFVs as soon as the Artillerists were ready to commence fire.

The entire deployment took only several minutes, the Redhands being used to move around quickly. Obermaier continued to coordinate the maneuvers and positioning of his forces:

" Heinkel, are my cannons ready to fire? "

" Yes, Herr Oberstleutnant. We are ready to fire on the enemy. "

" Excellent. Barrage them exactly one minute long, just enough to cover our assault, then turn in your field radar. We will mark via radio any position which will need your assitence. "

" Yes, Herr Oberstleutnant. Commencing with the attack. Men, fire! "

" Keller, pull back the Jägers. We are comming in. I want you to be prepared to advance with the tankettes as soon as I give the order, else just pick off anyone within your reach. Understood? "

" Yes, Herr Oberstleutnant. My men are already back here. The Artillery has started to fire on the enemy positions. "

Obermaier ordered a general assault by the IFV. Several squads and fire teams, Assault troopers eqipped with heavy body armour and machineguns were providing Infantry support for the IFV, mercilessly shooting at the Frlysians. The Jägers simply waited now, their snipers prepared to take down anybody trying to fire anti-tank weaponry at the closing IFV. Meanwhile the heavy shells of the Regiments Field Guns were exploding over the hapless Fralysians heads. Their fire would stop just at the same time it took for the IFVs to reach their targets and stomp over the enemy soldiers and trenches. The Redhands moved in perfect synchrony, executing every maneuver with grace and precision, as only Prut can.

[Lemonius]

Lemonian Non-Human Regulars,
Landing Craft, Beach landing

The Lemonians sat, with their Imerian noble alongside, ready for the task that lay ahead.

Heavily fortified positions were making it difficult to move any armour North, as well dug in artillery and mortar teams had their heads on a swivel.

"Raven Bombers are go" The radio crackled...

Mere seconds later, the first of three squadrons of Imerian Raven bombers soared over the water making the landing craft rock even more.

"4 Minutes!" The craft's helmsman shouted

An almighty boom, followed by a shockwave, indicated the first of the Raven's had begun to soften the artillery overlooking the LZ.

"Set weapons to Semi-Auto" U7746 commanded, with the Lemonian regiment following his orders.

"Enemy flak on the hill, we're taking fire!" The radio burst into life

"Raven squadron you are to stay on target" An unknown Imerian commander said, between short bursts of static

The Lemonians gazed upon eachother with looks of fear.

"2nd Squadron is proceeding to take out the new threat, 3rd Squadron is going to soften up the remaing artillery" An Imerian, clearly a pilot, hissed over the radio

"Proceed" The commander replied

The delay between the 1st and 3rd squadron attacks would give the enemy time to react. And, sure enough, artillery shells began to thud into the water around them - sending ocean spray all over the troops.

"1 minute!" The helmsman screamed, over the deafing noise of explosions

U7746 looked over toward another landing craft, carrying a Behemoth class Imerian tank, an artillery round exploded beside - the grey hull turned and the entire craft capsised, crushing the crew aboard under the weight of the massive vehicle inside.

"30 Seconds!"

Rounds, probably from a machine gun, began to hit the craft and the water around it.

"Down! Down!" U7746 shouted, the Imerian noble too - crouching beside them.

The hiss of rounds meant that they were not on target, the unit aboard hoped for the best, but the occasional crack sent their hopes plummeting.

"10 Seconds!"

The ramp at the front of the craft began to drop, the Lemonian readied their weapons, and once the grey metal hit the pebble beach they were off and running.

Powering toward the enemy lines, there was a crest of a hill ahead. It would be the best place for cover.

U7746 shouted to the nobleman and pointed to the hill, he seemed to agree.

The unit huddled behind the small mound of earth that had accumulated and caught their breath.

"Perhaps.... our landing could've... been better" A Lemonian panted.

Yet, there was no sign of the Ravens. Without Raven support, the artillery would keep the Lemonians at bay.

"Squadron leader, what's keeping you?" The radio crackled, the Imerian commander seemed to have lost his temper

"We've got a minor weapons problem" The reply meant the Lemonians could be stuck in their position for some time...

[McConia]

The airboats slowed, then stopped all together. The McConians quickly piled out and got in position to scout for enemies. Apparantly, the Militia were far to busy taking care of the rest of the auxilaries. The Paladin surveyed the area, and decided not to stay. He ordered all the troops to remove their trnch coats so they could easily wade through the water with their hip high boots. They did as they were commanded and took of their trenchcoats. Under the coats they had dark green under armor shirts. Many soldiers took of the under armor shirts as well. The cleverest of the troops soon removed their under armor and wrapped it around their neck to keep the Mosquitos away. Most of the soldiers put yheir hats in their bags. At a glance the McConians wer muscular in their legs and abdominals especially but were fit all throughout their body, most had the tan skin given by the Sub-tropical climate of McConia.
They all slowly advanced and waded through the swamps. Soon they would arrive near the objective point.
OOC:can someone make a shirtless version of my troops with a muscular chest, arms, and abs, keep the pants though.