A New Land (MT, IC)

by **Gleforland** » Fri Aug 28, 2015 11:41 pm

The City of Moorwen, Glenforland

Princess Cwenthia sat on the steps leading from the Royal Hall overlooking the city of Moorwen, the largest and most prosperous city in all of Glenforland, built upon the banks of the great Moor River which brought life to the farmlands to the North and South of the city, as well as connecting the inland city with the sea to the East.
Moorwen was the seat of the Crowned ruler of Glenforland, it had been her home ever since she was born. Rightfully speaking this hall was hers, but the next few weeks threatened to evict her from the only home she had ever known.

Lord Alban Glen and Lady Yelise Artan were vying for her throne, and each of them had the potential to get themselves crowned by the Elective Council, talks were ongoing. She had excused herself from a meeting with some of her stronger supporters to sit out in the frigid night air. Autumn was turning to winter and it wouldn't be too long before snow fell from the sky.
'My lady?' A tall, powerfully built man clad in mail approached the young Princess Elect, Harold Dayne had once been her father's Squire, now if things turned out the way Lord Glen was hoping, he may become her Marshal, and mentor in the ways of war.

From here Cwenthia could see the camp fires of Lord Glen's armies camping out beyond the boroughs of Moorwen. Lady Artan had brought some as well and set up camp on the other side of the river, although Yelise was certainly planning on using her political power instead of military might, she had been seen trying her whiles on a number of Lords supporting Cwenthia or Alban, trying to win them over to her side, possibly through marriage. She may not have wished to share the crown, but sharing the crown would certainly be a better outcome for her than not getting it at all.
'The world is going side way's Harold.' Cwenthia sighed, brushing a loose strand of auburn hair away from her brown eyes. 'I'm not sure what's going on anymore.'

'You're still in mourning my lady.' Harold replied, he sat down beside her on the steps and draped an arm around her shoulder, 'I miss your father too, we all do. I would tell you to try and get over it, but I fear that would be more than hypocritical of me.'

'When I'm in there I focus, you need not worry.' Cwenthia said with a tinge of fire in her eyes, 'but I can't stay focused eternally.'

'No one can Princess. Current events make that all but impossible.'

'I know.' Cwenthia replied, 'what do you think these portents mean? Fiery birds on the horizon, grey, sailess ships? Are the Gods trying to give us a sign?'

'I'll let the Godi decide if it's the Gods trying to interfere with us. For now I try to focus on getting you on that throne. I believe you're the right one for the job Cwenthia, you have a good heart, but more importantly a good mind, and we'll need that more than Glen's spears or Artan's wiles.'

'I just hope I can actually use them. If I don't win I don't know what I'll do...'

'Hush now, don't think about it princess.' Harold locked eyes with the young noblewoman, 'if all else fails, you still have your families castle at Barrow Hill. You won't be destitue, a High Lady is not a Queen, but it is only a single step down. And if nothing else, you can rule your own little realm well if you can't do the same for the whole Kingdom.'

'Thanks Harold.' Cwenthia forced a grin onto her young face, 'I'm glad someone has faith in me.'

****

The Habal Coast, Glenforland

'What is that?' Jerimiah Finch hissed as he peered down from the cliff overlooking the bay.
Arlen Scryer squinted in the gloom and didn't reply for some time, Jerimiah thought his companion hadn't heard him because of the wind. The late autumn storm winds were brewing out at sea quite heavily, whenever they looked over to the horizon they could see a storm beginning to form. They'd have to get back to town soon and batter down the hatches for the night.
'Looks like a boat. But not a boat.' Arlen eventually called over the howling wind.
'How can it be a boat, it's got no sails and it's gunwales are far too high for oars. How does it move? Just hope the tide takes it where it wants to go?'
'I don't know, I'm not a shipwright.' Arlen hissed, 'I just know what they look like, look at its lower part, looks like the bottom of a boat, its got the shape to cut through waves doesn't it?'
'Yeah guess so.' Jerimiah replied. 'But what's it doin' here?'
'Why are you always askin' me the questions?' Arlen replied angrily, he stood up from his crouching position while Jerimiah lay were he was. 'But you know what, I'm going to have a look, try and find out what the hell that thing is and what's it doin' here. Just so you shut up.' Arlen picked up his bow where he had left it and shouldered the leather strap his quiver was attached to. 'You head back to town, I'll meet you at the tavern alright. If I'm not back by mornin' let old John know and get the militia to come looking for me will ya?'
'John Crawford is not gonna' like this Arlen.' Jerimiah called as Arlen stalked off into the woods.
Just before the trapper disappeared from sight he called back, 'then maybe you should have learned to stop asking stupid questions you know I don't have answers for!'

Jerimiah lay where he was watching the strange boat for some kind, he could see a bright light burning within, far brighter than any candle, it was as if there was a bonfire inside the boat. He had half expected the whole thing to burst into flames, but somehow it didn't. Eventually he got up off the ground and as the rain started to sleet down around him, he headed back to town, leaving Arlen alone in the wilderness.

by **Grand Nicholia** » Sat Aug 29, 2015 12:53 am

The Royal Palace at Jardiennes

In the King's Private Study, King Nicholas XVI and his Foreign Affairs Minister, The Comte de Lambelle, were up late looking for potential matches for the 18 year old Dauphin, Philippe Augustus.
After 3 hours of searching they found two interesting characters that could be viable. What made them more appealing was they were both vying for the throne of Glenforland. They knew this could be a great situation for them. If they played their cards right and either of them accepted, if they pressed the claim of one, they could see their dynasty be in two Kingdoms. So here was the scene:
"Look what I found! Two good matches!" Almost yelled Lambelle, as he showed the King two profiles.
"What makes them special?" Replied the the King, as he leaned in to see their profiles.
"Well, they are both vying for the Throne of Glenforland. If either of them accept, and we press their claim and invade, well, your grandson will be King of two Kingdoms..."
"Ah, this could be good. But, I don't know..."
"What! You're going to let a perfectly good opportunity like this pass!?"
"We tried this before, and it did not go good. Remember the galactic space robots?"
"Oh yeah. But that is the pass! We simply can not let this opportunity slide!"
"Okay, *sigh*, send letters to both women. But, inform my son as soon as we get a reply."
Lambelle almost ran off to his office in the Palace and composed these two letters, with a bit of haste:

(OOC: Yes I used the same letter for both of them, but it still works? Also, wont post until sunday.)

by **Libraria and Ausitoria** » Sat Aug 29, 2015 3:11 am

Off The Habal Coast, Glenforland
3 minutes previously

"What do you mean, unknown?" said Captain Arthur McGriffin, in a gruff voice that matched his grizzled grey beard. He was an old sea dog, and had no inclination to shelter off a possibly hostile coat.

"I mean what I say and I say what I mean," replied Alexander Demarque, a flash of aristocratic arrogance showing past his normally easy-going demeanour. He was a Company analyst on Company business surveying the oceans, and when on Company business he did not suffer fools gladly – even fools with four decades of experience more than him.

It was a curious situation. What with the hundreds of Ausitorian sattelites that criss-crossed the sky every day, of course everybody knew that this terrain existed, but nobody seemed to have been interested in it for long enough to find out who actually controlled it, what it was like, or write up any sort of report. Obviously it must belong to somebody, but it was surrounded by inaccessible terrain, and had evidently slipped below the radar for a long time.

Alexander fiddled with his ipad, bringing up meterological maps again to check for a second time. Again, no signs of modern pollutants, no signs of vehicles, and still no noticeable electromagnetic communications.

“Probably some caveman idea of a utopia,” he said scathingly. Ausitorians prided themselves on being modern and civilized. And knowledgeable. “I’ve sent the drone up for a report,” he added.

“We have a drone?” asked the Sea Dog, and Alexander nodded.

That was just like the company. The Royal East Ausitorian Commodities Company was a Company to give nightmares to your nightmares, interested only in long term profits (and prosperity), and a law unto itself, with a navy to match (which was why they were in the surveying business) and sovereignty left right and centre. It had a habit of annexing small poorly-managed countries with a minimum of fuss, and, after ensuring that they would make a handsome profit, turning the countries over to Ausitorian democracy. It had worked every time so far. But it did tend to make the Company just a little grand, pompous, and paranoid; and therefore the survey ship had all sorts of weird and wonderful equipment that the Company had obviously decided might be useful in some scenarios. This was one of the scenarios they had thought about.

The computer beeped.

“Two men on the cliffs,” Alexander said, recognizing that the thermal camera had located them, and pointing. One was heading down, and he pointed to the figure of Arlen. “Presumably that one’s heading down to meet us – they must have spotted us. Presumably he’s expecting us to meet him down there while the other makes a report… perhaps they spotted the drone if they have binoculars, so they know we’ll have seen them. Or do they think we’re smugglers? Perhaps the Utopians can’t import cigarettes and think we’re the rendezvous…”

Alexander came to a pause, and studied the gathering storm warily.

“How long have I got?”

Arthur considered. “Half an hour,” he eventually replied.

“Five kilometres to the beach, twenty knots, ten minutes by boat there… fine. Prepare the boat and landing party. Steam in behind me. Have the drone kitted with ropes and life belts for emergencies and call me if there’s any signs of incoming gusts before then.”

And with that, he descended down to the fishing bay, the high-powered lights turning on, where there were wetsuits, and a very handy rubber boat capable of fitting six people, a nifty tarpaulin to keep off the spray, and a retractable motor useful for going up a beach. Within minutes the boat was ready, and slid down into the water and sped away like an arrow, in the direction of Arlen Scryer…

by **Esalonia** » Sat Aug 29, 2015 4:43 am

12th Joint Strike Armada
UCS Heaven Glaive, Raze-class destroyer (DDGN-1020)

Piercing through the waves was a naval hammer of the United Commonwealth Armed Forces, a detachment of the United Commonwealth Navy dispatched as an expeditionary force. This expeditionary force was among one of the most modern naval hammers of the United Commonwealth Navy, and probably in Greater Dienstad; these vessels incorporated new concepts in shipbuilding to produce Esalonia's finest ships, and this particular Raze-class destroyer was a ship-of-the-line, a modern bulwark armed to the brim. The UCS Heaven Glaive may or may not be the most powerful destroyer in Greater Dienstad, but it was among the most modern; she is armed with two 155-mm ETC gun systems and 120 VLS cells, as well as sonar and radar at par with the world's best systems. She boasted full-spectrum readiness; she is a multirole "jack of all trades master of none" vessel, able to take down ballistic missiles and satellites, engage in combat against ships twice her size, engage land targets, and to top it all off this overpowered vessel is given nuclear strike capability-her cruise missiles can be armed with nuclear warheads, and can reach out to 3080 kilometers.

Navigation Officer Francis Hickson looked at his map and the telescope from time to time. Beside him was also a GPS device. This particular portion of sea was charted, other than...this mass of land he saw. This piece of land was not on his map-either the CIG were slacking off or nobody dared go here. He knows what it meant: they were in uncharted waters. Having seen land just 5 minutes ago Hickson cannot believe this land was not mapped. "Sierra 2-3 to Heaven Glaive Actual, land-ho." he radioed to the vessel's captain as he wanted to let his captain see what it was.

After a few minutes of walking from the bridge to the helm Captain Harold Sapiro asked the Navigation Officer what he saw. Captain Sapiro always wore a necklace with a sapphire hanging from it, the sapphire coincidentally being his birthstone and the literal English translation of his surname-sapiro in Elonian to sapphire in English. Captain Sapiro was a man in his late fifties, with a beautiful wife and two kids, one already in the show business, the other joining the United Commonwealth Army. He wore the standard uniform for all ship crew-LDPCU in naval scheme, with specks of 50 shades of ~~grey~~ blue. "What may that be, Officer Hickson?" he asked, with a voice that spoke of interest and a spark of wanderlust. "Why did you say land-ho?" "You have to check this out, Captain. It's there, but never mapped." Officer Hickson replies and gives the telescope to Captain Sapiro, who eagerly looks through the scope to see what Officer Hickson saw. To his surprise he saw a mass of land, an unmapped, uncharted, and unspoilt land. Captain Sapiro then meets up with the Admiral commanding the armada he was under.

"UCS Gladius this is Harpy 2-2, we are escorting Captain Sapiro towards the armada flagship."

UCS Gladius, Diamond Perri-class megacarrier

Inside the Admiral's office it looked like as if the Admiral lived in flamboyance and luxury while everyone else was sleeping in small beds and no video games. Models of old navy ships here, bookshelf there, an interactive table here.

"WHat brings you here, Captain Sapiro?"

"This land has been spotted, but never seen on the map. Suggest we check it out."

"Sure. I shall dispatch a platoon of marines via helicopter."

After 30 minutes Captain Sapiro left for his ship, with the Marines following in five helicopters, as well as a diplomatic officer with them onboard a VIP helicopter.

by **Gleforland** » Sat Aug 29, 2015 7:50 am

The Habal Coast, Glenforland

Arlen wandered down to the beach, the journey took some time, few people used the bay for anything other than fishing from the rocky outcropings that extended out into the water from the base of the cliffs. In winter, when the sea wind blew fiercely and the water lashed at the outcroppings making it a very dangerous pastime for any peasant with a free afternoon.

Arlen had cast off from the rocks from time to time, although he was a trapper by trade and rarely needed to seek out an additional source of meat for his dinner. He unslung his bow from his back as he made his way down to the beach, there was an odd humming sound on the wind, faintly coming across to him from the strange 'boat' sitting in the bay. A sense of dread washed over him as it got louder.
The underbrush parted as he stepped out onto the freezing wet sand, he pulled his cowled cloak around him all the tighter as the rain continued to fall down on him, already beginning to regret his decision to get a closer look.

From the sandy beach, he saw bright lights extending from the strange boat, powerful beams like that which descended from between gaps in a cloud on a dark, rainy day. The beams scoured the beach and when they passed over him he flinched and dived for cover, ducking behind a tree momentarily before poking his head out.
Another, odd looking boat had detached from the larger one and was bearing down on the beach. He could see shadowy figures on this one and the humming sound became louder and louder before turning into a strange roar.
Arlen's hand went instinctively to the heavy Seaxe on his belt, it felt reassuring to feel the heavy knife in his hand, although it didn't linger there long before he withdrew an arrow from his quiver and nocked it. He didn't draw back, holding an arrow at a draw was very straining, and any archer worth their salt could draw and loose in a moments notice, besides, the arrow was a precaution, there were strange people aboard, although that didn't necessarily mean they were hostile... Did it?

As the boat pulled up onto the shore and strange, dark clad men climbed out of it, Arlen mustered up his courage, not seeing a single axe or spear on them made him relax. 'Who goes there?' He called over the wind and rain to the mysterious figures. 'This is Baron Vortigan's land, care to explain who you are stranger?'

Gleforland Airspace

The Esalonian aircraft flew over the unidentified land, the coast was untouched and wild. Woods were quite common, although it wasn't long before they gave way to well tilled fields, while the woodland did receed it didn't disappear entirely, there was always some dark woods visible on the horizon.
There were a number of tiny peasant cottages visible from the air, small tendrils of smoke rising from their chimney's. A few dogs and other farmyard animals barked and brayed at the aircraft in a mixture of annoyance and fear, and more than one peasant stepped outside to find out what that strange noise was.

The helicopters eventually crested a few hills and found themselves bearing down on a small hamlet nestled at the bottom of a small hill, atop it was a stone hillfort, a small castle that was no where near as impressive as most grand works of stone masonry from the hollywood movies, but it was definitely a castle. It's walls had crenalations and there were two men patrolling the walls, at this distance it was hard to tell what they were wearing.
The hamlet was pitch black save for one or two windows from which the glow of a fire could be seen coming from inside.
This was the largest settlement they had seen so far by far, but even this was quite pitiful. Would it even be worth the diplomats time to touch down here and try and find a local authority figure?

by **Libraria and Ausitoria** » Sat Aug 29, 2015 3:57 pm

The Habal Coast, Glenforland

Alexander had the good fortune to have excellent hearing, and in addition was wearing VR-enhanced glasses that were feeding thermal imagery, so he looked directly at Arlen, noting with some surprise the bow and arrow.

"Greetings to your Lord in peace!" he replied, his eyes flickering over the Seaxe. It was one of the handy side-effects of being a Monarchy that liked to dress up in ermine robes and obscure titles that he knew the feudal code. "I am Baron Alexander Demarque, an Aestor of the Ausitorian Empire."

He nodded to the others, who set about securing the boat against the lashing waves, which gave him a moment to think. Perhaps they weren't foolhardy Greens? But it hardly mattered, this one at least posed no threat, and seemed to have no back-up. Investigate, then.

"I take it you are his representative in this bay. Who is your Monarch? How many inhabit this land? What are your tradeable goods?"

Off the Habal Coast, CS White Horse, Bridge, a few minutes later

"What's that?" said James Mercuria, Radar and Sonar Operator, as he fiddled with the contrast on the radar screen.

One of the other handy advantages of being owned by The Company was that one tended to have powerful passive radar, and one of the advantages of passive radar was that it was harder for aircraft to sneak around unnoticed.

"Well, what is it?" asked the Sea Dog.

"Five helicopters,” he said, and took command instantly. "No going active without my permission. Jerome, elevate that drone 'till we see what it is, and then duck down immediately."

That was The Company training all over him, the Sea Dog decided. Without so much as a 'by your leave' or whatever.

"So," Jerome said, studying the screen intently, as the drone peaked out of the bay and spotted the offending noise-maker. "Helicopters and a destroyer." He flipped some levers for the automatic recognition to kick in. "Ah... Dienstadian," he shuddered.

"Well," replied James, after a pause. "It looks like the danger is on the other side of us." He looked to the Captain.

"Cannons to the left of 'em..." he muttered in reply.

"What are they doing here?" asked Jerome, as James tapped away at an urgent message.

"God knows..." replied James, who suddenly paused, and then started to remove words. A shorter message was much harder to decrypt, even if Ausitoria's telecommunications were state-of-the-art...

"Let's remain incongruous... lay out some of the fish on the deck," he said, then, nodding, pressed send, and the message streaked out into space.

Code: Select all: Encryption: Maximum CS WH to CSS Ardent: Raze Destroyer (87%) approaching nearby land. Investigating both. Advise Capricorn to monitor, and heavier support.

Code: Select all: Encryption: Maximum CSS Ardent to CS White Horse: Report forwarded. Support directed.

by **Ostar** » Sat Aug 29, 2015 11:07 pm

Edited

Ostarian Department of Defense

“What do you mean a new land that was unidentified?” Admiral Frankson inquired astonished. “How did they go for so long without anyone noticing?”

“Well, that’s an operational error on our part.” Department of National Security analyst Remo replied, hesitant. “The land isn’t really worth anything, no strategic significance at all.”

“How the hell did the DNS miss an entire country for THIS long?” General Cowell inquired.

“We discovered what looked like settlements while we were re-calibrating one of our satellites. So, when another satellite was in position we double and triple checked. There are indeed whole towns on this island. Listen, gentlemen it’s a rock in the middle of the ocean with no strategic significance, barely any resources that we know of. And a backwards society of unwashed peasants. So I’m sorry, if we missed this.” The analyst mentioned reading off a file.

Arguments exploded as the various leaders tried out talking eachother.

President Henley sat quiet this entire time, watching the room and various commanders argue amongst themselves. “Gentlemen.” The President quietly said. The arguing continued the military leaders blamed the Department, the Department blamed the military. “Gentlemen, I’ve made my decision.” He said a bit louder. The arguing continued. “GENTLEMEN! I’ve made my decision!” The President slammed his fist onto the table. The room grew quiet.

“Sir, don’t you want to hear our recommendations?” General Cowell inquired.

“No, General I do not. I want you to dispatch the 1st Carrier Strike group to this island to keep an eye on the situation. Ensure there is adequate land transport and air transport. I also want Ambassador Jacobs on a V-22 Osprey. The Ambassador is to take with him his Diplomatic Security Service agents, he is to make contact with the aristocracy of this nation. On the second Osprey I want his two Chevrolet Tahoes to cover ground quickly. I want him and that strike group in position yesterday.” A flurry of activity resounded in the briefing room, marching orders were carried out.

72 hours away from the Island
Bridge of the Aircraft carrier Petty

“As soon as the Marines are on board, set course for about 10 miles off the coast. Our orders are simply to keep an eye on the situation." Admiral Smith ordered.

"Aye, aye sir."

Ellis Air Force base

Ambassador Jacobs boarded his V-22 Osprey with a file. Two of his DSS agents were dressed in suits similar to the ambassador, these agents are armed with Sig P228 handguns. The remaining 8 DSS agents were dressed more like a private military contractor, tan tactical pants, black boots, white t-shirts and a tan tactical vest. These agents were armed with Sig P228 side arms, M-4 Carbines, one of the agents was armed with a .308 scoped rifle. Jacobs sat down with a thud in his seat, the engines started up with a roar and the rear door closed securely.

"We should make it there in about 12 hours." The captain said over the P.A as the final checks were in place.

Jacobs read over the file, he was still astonished that these people had gone for so long without being seen before. He had his orders, he was to make contact with the leadership of the nation and do his best to calm any other nations down. If the Ostarians found this nation by chance there were bound to be other nations on their way or there already.

by **Esalonia** » Sun Aug 30, 2015 6:47 am

Unknown Land
Cpt. Flynn, Brandon C.
21st Airmobile Company, 2nd Armored Marines Division

The rapid chopping of the Harpy that Cpt. Flynn, the company commander, and the diplomat, Arlen Johnson, shook the land as it flew it over. The Harpy was one of the latest helicopters of the United Commonwealth-the UH-52 "Harpy" can assume, as a multirole helicopter, multiple roles, like an anti-submarine helicopter, which every vessel had, and the ubiquitous transport helicopter, carrying over 10 troops maximum.

The Harpy flew over this unknown land, which was first woods, then tilled land; but tilled land was not the only thing they saw, for dark woods were always visible along the horizon. Much to the team's surprise this land was inhabited-but not by what they expected. They expected an isolated civilization that somehow managed to keep up with the times despite centuries of isolation, but rather a medieval country, clearly out of place in the twenty-first century. Here and there the land was dotted by cottages. There were no electricity cables, unlike rural areas in Esalonia that were blessed with electricity, and even the tribes who stayed where they have been staying for thousands of years were "blessed" or "cursed" with electricity, according to how the tribes would take it, but the general point is that tribes in Esalonia have embraced the coming of modern technology and allowed it to seep into their lives, even creating a religious cult devoted to electricity, or more specifically Kurintye, the pagan god of electricity of the aboriginals in Esalonia. When brown-out came these villages would be filled with tribal religious leaders praying to Kurintye. Compare this to this unknown stretch of land-no electricity, no hint of modern technology. The ground would be soon dotted with curious living things looking at awe, fear, and curiosity at them.

"Wow, man. I've heard of America getting blown into the stone age but this? It's crazy." one soldier said. "I know, right?" another soldier said. "Though, we're taught to live medieval when we're blown back to it with nothing but our guns, equipment, ideas, and clothing from 2100. A cesspit is horrible for me, though. That's lie, outdated back-" he was interrupted by his squad commander. "Cut the chatter. Stay frosty."

Flying still, the lead spy plane that went before them alerted them of a possible administrative place-a castle, not like those grandeous examples of masonry from Hollywood movies. "Guys, we do now know this place is medieval, right? I'm taking this castle I'm soaring over has the person we can talk to. And remember-this place ain't gonna have much of a good LZ." the radio transmission from this particular P-16C, nicknamed after an Elonian pagan god whose name translates to "the bearer of the all-seeing eye", and whose symbol is used as the coat of arms of the Commonwealth Intelligence Group, blared out at the PA system of the incoming Marines.

The airborne formation crested over a few hills until reaching one with a small habitation at the foot and the said castle at the top. "All squad marksmen, this is Captain Flynn, get a few eyes on the castle, over. All aircraft, stabilize." Captain Flynn makes a transmission to command the squad designated marksmen to take a look at their scopes to see what needs to be seen, as well as the aircraft to stabilize.. At the BNCA M71 MPCO-Sniper Specialized Variant scope of Sgt. Jerome Mallare, two men patrolling the walls of the castle were seen. They were wearing medieval armor. "What do you have?" "Two foot-mobiles. Medieval armor. Halberds." Sgt. Mallare replied. "All right, do a fly over."

The helicopters speed down close to the ground, almost kissing the rooftops of the nearby settlement. One by one curious people and animals went out from their houses, curious about who these guys were and what they were riding. Upon nearing the castle they started to fly over, and they could see a mass of soldiers looking at them from below. The entire platoon can sense the curiosity looking at them from below, as well as fear of what they can do. If anything were to go haywire they would have the advantage of modern weaponry-swords would clash unsuccessfully with guns. From above the helicopter can simply burn the entire castle to the ground single-handedly with its equipped GAU21 .587 gatling gun, and every person won't like this gun firing at its tempest-talk about a GAU19 with Mk 211 Raufoss rounds. But it will never be used. They did a circling for a while before one squad and the diplomat rappelled down towards the castle grounds, in front of the main entrance of the keep, to much awe of the people around. The soldiers formed a protective circle around the diplomat, who rappelled down last.

by **Grand Nicholia** » Sun Aug 30, 2015 7:17 pm

The Royal Palace at Jardiennes

"I think we made the wrong decision. Call back the letters now!Or-" Said the King and Autocrat NIcholas XVI at a cabinet meeting surrounded by his cabinet of more than 20.
"The letters have not even been sent yet. I just realised, we just vaguely know where they are. Do they have airports? No. Probably. So we are fine." Assured the Minister of Communications, Jorge Bellagio Grenado, Lord of Grenado.
"Okay, but we need to take this opportunity!" Said Foreign Minister Lambelle.
"Do we really need to? It would be very expensive." Said Finance Minister Sergio Valanza, Duke of Bachandale.
"Can I make a suggestion? As I, the Dauphin, I realise this involves possible marriage. Something I am not interested in. Can we just end this?" Suggested the Dauphin, Philippe Augustus, who invited himself to the meeting as he realised it involved some degree of commitment.
"No. Just no." Said Lambelle.
"Ugh, just to let you know, this will end like last time. Even the same setup."
"Well, I have an idea, monsieurs and madames of the cabinet. So, I did some research, and I learned that the explorer, Maximilian Robit, most likely died on that island, and is the reason we know about. He explored it in the 1400's." Said MInister of the MIlitary, Charles de Guliame, Duke de Guliame.
"So?" Said Lambelle.
"We send an expedition to the island under the guise that we are looking for his body. But really, we are scouting them out."
"Doesn't it seem suspicious that we are looking for his body, 600 YEARS LATER!?" Said the Chancellor, Louis Philippe, Duke of Vergara.
"No."
"Anyways, I heard rumors that Glenforland is stuck in the medieval period. So I suggest that we send a big army and mow em all down!" Suggested the Minister of Science and Innovation, Don Abraham Junquot.
"Hold on there, Dr.Evil, we just cant do that! Its a sin!" Suggested the Minister of Faith, Johann, Archbishop of Arras.
"Okay, in the interest of everyone, we ill go with Guliame's plan. Since, we know barely nothing of the island, and only know their island has 2 possible contenders that interest us. But, for my son, I will say no talks of marriage shall happen....yet." Determined the King to everyone.
"Also,we must have Captain Gars lead the expedition of 500 men. By Wednesday we send out a transport flotilla, or thursday. Someone contact Gars. Everyone got that?"
"Yes."
"Meeting dispatched."
Everyone then got up from their seats and left.

Captain Adolphus Gars's Townhouse in Nicholius

Gars was at his computer, writing his book, "5 Weeks and 80 Dead: Memoirs from the Grand Nicholia-Abboitis War". He was about to finish a chapter, when he got an email from the Ministry of War that read:

Greetings Army Captain Adolphus C. Gars,
You have been put in charge of an expedition to the island of Glenforland, to explore and possibly find the body of Maximilian Robit. You will have 500 men, 3 vexillographer, a team of independent archaeologists, and a team of forensic scientists.
Your team will leave by thursday evening from the port of Saint Juiliansburg.

Good day,
The Ministry of the Military
554 Martyr Way,
Nicholius, Grand Nicholia

Hmmh, they finally put me in again. I thought I was forgotten. But thank God not! Anyways, time to go to bed.
Gars thought to himself. He then shut down the computer, and went to bed.

by **Gleforland** » Sun Aug 30, 2015 9:34 pm

The Habal Coast, Glenforland

Arlen was taken aback by Alexander's reply, the man in front of him certainly seemed to have an aristocratic air to him, that was something you couldn't fake without more practice than it was worth.
'An Aestor of the Ausitorian Empire you say?' He called back, 'I've never heard of the Ausitorian Empire before, where's that?' His grip tightened on his bow a little, he wasn't sure what to make of these people now, they were very different from anyone he had ever seen before, and unlike most people in the village, Arlen had been known to travel as far as Moorwen.
'I'm no representative,' Arlen replied flatly, 'Baron Vortigan's Chancellor usually represents the Lord while he's away. I'm just the man who first spotted your, er, boat from up on the cliffs. As for the monarch,' he shrugged, 'that's being decided in Moorwen, King passed on not three weeks ago, so the Earls and Thanes are all in the capital, scrambling to cosy up to whoever looks like they're gonna' win the crown.'
Arlen peered at Alexander a little more closely at the question of how many people there were, he knew how many lived in the village, but he couldn't remember how many lived at the next town over. In fact he wasn't sure anyone knew just how many people there were in the Kingdom. More than there were in the village certainly, many times more. 'How many where?' He called back, 'for tradable goods, we have crops, fish, crafts. There's a town blacksmith and a tavern too. But we're just a small village, Moorwen is where all the big merchant guilds are.'

Ostarian Osprey, approaching the Gleforland coast.

As the Osprey began to close in on the mysterious coastline, they passed over a small medieval sailing ship, the ship was slowly sailing against the wind, criss crossing its way closer to home in a vain attempt to reach the coast, if not a harbour of some sort before the stormfront hit. It didn't look like they were going to make it entirely, but it was unlikely they would be too far out for the storm to cause too many problems for the boat.

The Gleforland coast was dotted with cliffs and hills, the beaches were sandy, yet far from ideal holiday locations. The weather was far too cold for casual beach going. As soon as the sand on the beaches stopped, Gleforland transformed into woodland. For quite some distance they flew over the woods without any sign of habitation, aside from a lone hut sitting in the middle of the woods. However it was not long at all before the forests gave way to tilled fields and tiny little hamlets. None of which seemed to be an ideal place to set down.

The Osprey changed course to follow a large stream which could almost be called a river. Eventually it came upon a town much larger than any of the hamlets they had passed. The hamlets may have had at most two hundred people in them, but this town must have had at the very least a thousand people in it. While it was getting late there were still people in the streets, and all of them were pointing, shouting and running at the sight of the Osprey flying overhead.

Gleeforland, Cyrol Castle

People from the hamlet crowded around the path leading up to the small castle, they were grubby, peasant looking people who were all visibly tired from their hard day's work. But none of them appeared malnourished or even anywhere near as bad as one may have expected, although many of them were missing teeth, they were cleaner than expected even considering their long day of work. Although they were all unshaven and the most of the men had beards as well as long hair.

A band of soldiers were emerging from the castle, most were wearing chain mail, although some had to make do with just a padded gamberson. A few carried Halberds or heavy looking battle axes but most had spears or hand axes. In the center of the group stood a burly man in full mail, a sword sat on his hip and he wore a tabard depicting a strangely fierce looking otter.

'Who goes there?' He demanded as his men approached, his deep voice was projected loud enough for even the townspeople to hear it over the roar of the helicopters, there was more surprise in his voice than anger. His men looked wary as well, although none of them looked as if they'd back down if the big man ordered them to fight.
A few men appeared on the wall with bows, arrows nocked but drawn, from their elevated position their arrows probably would reach the group on the ground if there wasn't a helicopter in between them.
Things were tense, but it was clear no one here really wanted to fight.

The Royal Palace at Jardiennes, Grand Nicholia

By now, news sources were beginning to circulate rumours of a recently discovered land, a number of minor military officials from a range of countries had come out and admitted on public broad cast that their military's were currently investigating the likelihood of this land existing. Details were fuzzy and outlandish rumours and theories immediately began to turn up, more often than not in what should have been reliable news networks. Nothing was clear except one minor detail, everyone was paying attention to whatever this land could be, and what would happen next.

by **Esalonia** » Sun Aug 30, 2015 10:53 pm

Unknown castle, Unknown land

Unknown place, unknown everything. Many soldiers in medieval armor and carrying melee weaponry were looking at them, as well as a few confused citizens around them, looking at them, their weaponry, their armor, the UH-52s, overall they were looking at the might of the United Commonwealth. The people around them were looking at them with awe, curiosity, and fear.

From the castle emerged a few soldiers clad in knight armor, forming a protective circle around a central figure, presumably the king, in full mail, an unsheathed sword on the ready. "Guys...we're fucked." a pilot of the helicopters radioed. "Stay frosty guys. This is the wild Plastar Woods."

"Who goes there?" the presumed king said, his voice louder than the chopping of the helicopters' rotor blades. The expeditionary ambassador decided to go out of the protective circle and meet with the man-but not before his bodyguards surround him side and back. Brigadier General Arlen Johnson was a man of 50 but was still very active and strong, men be 50, strong as 30, act like 50 or sometimes 15. He was wearing full expeditionary ambassador uniform-LDPCU, concealed soft armor, concealed pistol on the ready. His hair was of fifty shades of gray, eyes speaking of alliances and his intentions one of cooperation with peoples that an Expeditionary Dispatch from the 1st Grand March would meet.

"Greetings, your highness." Brg. Gen. Johnson said after he bowed down with head facing the ground, his first hint on a gesture to a king. "I apologize for our rude...landing...on your lands. We mean you no harm, and never will we ever mean you harm. My name is Brigadier General Arlen Johnson, an expeditionary officer representing the 11th Armored Marines Division and the United Commonwealth. If I am not mistaken, you are the monarch ruling this land, I presume?"

by **Ostar** » Sun Aug 30, 2015 11:05 pm

Ostarian Osprey

The two Ospreys sighted the large town below and decided this was as good as any place to make first contact. The Ospreys flew about two miles away from the town and landed. The doors opened and the 8 agents jumped out, securing the area. "Should we get the SUVs loaded up sir?"

Jacobs thought for a moment. "No, they are probably panicked enough at seeing our Ospreys. Let alone two large black SUVs barreling towards them. We walk, you and the rest of the tactical agents set up camp here. Until the Navy arrives we're staying here, the Ospreys have been outfitted with some additional cots for us. For the time being set up a perimeter and try not to look too scary. You two undercover agents, with me." Jacobs grabbed his suit jacket and briefcase, which was filled with various papers and files. He had a few chocolate bars in his jacket pockets for the kids. A suited undercover agent had a backpack filled with some stuffed animals as well. Buttering up the locals they called it back home, Jacobs thought it was worth a shot. Each of the suited agents had a shoulder holster with their weapons covered.

"Sir what do you think we are going to find?"

"Best case, a peaceful nation of people who are welcoming to us."

"Worst case?"

"They kill us and put our heads on a pike." Jacobs chuckled out. "Let's go." Jacobs and his two suited agents began the two mile walk towards the city. The two agents tested their comms as they headed for the city.

by **Libraria and Ausitoria** » Mon Aug 31, 2015 3:23 am

The Habal Coast

Alexander's ears had pricked up decisively at the mention of a Monarchy in the wrangling, as he appraised the situation. Definitely a backward country, he thought, but while Gleforland might be isolated, sometimes there is nothing better than an isolated naval base in the middle of a big ocean. He was reminded of a Chattakang proverb: ’He who rules the seas rules the whole world – or at least, all of the world worth ruling’. It was a good proverb. Now was a time to seize the advantage.

His ipad beeped suddenly, and he glanced at it – an alert: a nearby destroyer! Time was of the essence. He blinked.

Alexander had the great advantage of a background of centuries of tradition. Power was an act, at least as far as the Ausitorians were concerned, and he knew the act: fortune favours those who can bluff. There was nothing to lose, only potential gain; for what good were arrows against The Company’s bank balance? And what unfortunate peasant (or even Lord) would dare face the unknown wrath of an unknown (and very confident) Ausitorian?

"Take me to your Lord Vortigen," Alexander decided, pulling off his wetsuit and withdrawing a gold coin from a pouch an inch in diameter. (Gold was such a universal currency that all surveyors in isolated areas were provided with a small quantity). “Ausitoria is rich and powerful, and times here will change rapidly. Metal hummingbirds fly through the sky at our command, and you would do well to choose your allies carefully." He paused, handing over the gold coin, before finishing. “Some good may come of it if your people choose wisely. How far is he?”

by **Wallenburg** » Mon Aug 31, 2015 5:56 pm

Admiral Markus Holston || WPS Alliance, Tremor-class Battleship

The Alliance was cruising due north, its 40cm cannons sitting proud on the steel deck. Blue waves crashed into brilliant crystal over the deck as the bow split through high waves. The admiral's sea legs held him fast to the floor of the bridge as a tremendous wave crashed across the starboard-bow. The storm had been unrelenting. For the last week, a maelstrom had broken apart the First Fleet, forcing half the fleet south and the other half north. Wave after wave had pushed the flagship further away, and a problem with the instruments had left them unsure as to their location. While the navigator thought he had seen land ahead, the gray clouds and high walls of water had made visibility difficult. But now, they could see bright blue sky ahead, and the waves--while fierce--were slowly dying as they wandered too far from their mother overhead.

"Land, ho!" the admiral heard from the observation deck. Rushing to the door of the bridge, he shouted out at the seaman. "Where is it, sailor?"

"West, north-west. Green, lots of cliffs."

A wave brushed alongside the port side of the ship, spraying the sailor with sea foam. Soon he was inside, watching the admiral lead the flagship toward the distant island.

"Let's hope for friends."

by **Gleforland** » Tue Sep 01, 2015 9:51 pm

Gleeforland, Cyrol Castle

The burly, heavilly armoured man in the centre of the group looked perplexed at Johnson's reply, it was clear from his facial expression that he had barely understood a word the Brigadier General had said. To him, marines fought exclusively in ship to ship combat, a rarity at best in Gleforland, few enough Lords maintained a force of Marines, and fewer ever used them as anything but skirmishers in land battles. The word Division was completely foreign to him. Units tended to form up in companies when they were at their most organised, most of which would stand in the main battle line in an amorphous blob. Commonwealth likewise had little to no meaning for obvious reasons, the isolated Gleforlanders had never heard of the United Commonwealth, just like they had never heard of any other country beside their own in anything other than folklore.
However at the assertion that he must be the local monarch, the burly man's face split into a wide grin and he laughed heartilly, a few of his men laughed along nervously for a moment before a look from him silenced them.

'Me a King?' He chuckled and looked at his men, 'from now on you lot better start bowing and praising me every time I walk into the room.' He turned back to Johnson, 'no sir. I'm the castle's Master at Arms, in service to Baron Strange. In his abscence myself and the Lady Strange are the closest thing we have to a reigning Lord. But I'm no more royalty in this land than you are Outlander.'

Large Town, Gleforland

The fields before the large town that the Ostarians passed were well tilled, there were plenty of buildings out here as well. Although compared to the town they were quite spread out. The road was paved with stone and gravel which continued to stretch out far into the distance. Clearly this town stood on a major trade route, a meeting point on the road between major locations and a river, making it a natural location for a town to rise up.

There was a small bridge leading across a small delta from the river that the town had grown too large to stay on one side of in recent years. There were only a few shops on this side of the river and just as few houses. The townspeople were clearly still planning on expanding out further as they hadn't done more than start building the most basic pallisade around this part of town. The Ostarians walked into the town limits without seeing a single person, although it was clear that eyes were watching them from every window.

On the small bridge before them, the local town watch had assembled something of a presence, it wasn't quite a battle line, but it wasn't a welcoming party either. They were lightly armoured, all but the more senior members of the watch only wore padded jackets, their superiors wore light mail.
At the head of this group stood a tall, overweight man with a great beard and the fine clothes of a rich man. Although he lacked any sigils which would single him out as nobility, he did wear a single signet ring on his meaty hand.
'I am Master Thogrin Feltas, Mayor of Duamshire.' The man declared, 'and who is it, may I ask, that stands before me?'

The Habal Coast, Gleforland

Arlen took the coin in awe, he inspected it closely, he probably had never owned something made of gold before. 'Incredible.' He muttered.
His reaction to Alexander's words was a little more wary however, it seemed almost as if the foreigner was threatening him, or his country. The metal humming birds sounded a bit odd as well, was it some kind of witch craft? Or did this foreigner simply use a more basic word combination that he had hoped he would understand?
'His Castle is about a day's walk from here sir.' Arlen replied, 'and it's getting late, but you'd be welcome in the village tavern. If you would rather stay here I could come get you at first light however,'

The Granite Shore, Gleforland

Below the great granite cliffs lay one of the largest, and most popular beaches in Gleforland, not for pleasure, but for work. The extended sandy beach was perfect for landing small fishing vessels on, and it was close enough to one of the biggest and msot densely populated areas of ocean near Gleforland. Of course when autumn came, the boats were dragged up the beach, next to the cliffs and tied down with ropes to keep them safe.
Very few people came out this way at this time of year.
Soloman Sihu was one of them. He loved the sea, he'd been a fisherman all his life and no strange horizon sightings would drive him from it. On days where the storms weren't too fierce on the shoreline he liked to wander down and gaze out to see, listen to the seabirds and smell the sea foam. It helped calm his soul, which always remained restless on solid ground, even when he was at home with his wife. The sea called to him, and sometimes he even called back.

Today was going like any other day down by the beach in autumn. He could see a sea storm blowing off on the coast and occasionally it would wash things up on shore, which he often collected to trade back in town, he could usually find someone willing to buy most things. Even stuffed fish were popular.

As he was gazing out to see, something caught his eye. There was movement, not wind or rain. At first he had thought it was a cloud, it was grey like all others, but there was a strange, rumbling sound in the air.
The strange grey shape came closer, bursting forth from the storm, even from here Soloman could tell it was enormous!
'What is that?' He asked the sea, dropping the salvage he had plundered from the shore. His mouth agape he continued to stare as it began to draw closer, it's dark, menacing shape growing larger and larger.

Soloman bolted, scrambling back to town, he had to warn someone, anyone. This thing wasn't natural, and it was huge. He hoped someone would know what to do. But deep down he wasn't sure if anything could be done at all.

by **Libraria and Ausitoria** » Wed Sep 02, 2015 1:45 am

The Habal Coast, Glenforland

"Only a day's walk? Excellent, twenty minutes flying," Alexander replied, as imperturbable as ever, tapping away on his ipad. "I will summon the hummingbird," he explained, summoning it. "Should be rigged up shortly. Jarvis," he added, turning round to his steward, "I think an expedition is called for, but everybody else should get back to the ship."

He turned back to Arlen. "In the meantime, tell me of the candidates for the Monarchy. How many are there? What are their names? What are they like? What do they believe in?"

by **Ostar** » Thu Sep 03, 2015 10:01 am

Ambassador Jacobs slowly set his brief case down, showing the town watch his hands the entire time as to not worry them. Over his shoulder he told his security detail, "Stay back here." The two agents nodded and kept watch over the ambassador from their current spot. "Master Feltas, I am Ambassador Frank Jacobs, a diplomat if you will from the land of Ostar. My men and I come here in peace.." Jacobs slowly motioned to the suited agents behind him and to the Ospreys further down the road. "We have no intention of war, or violence. We are only here to speak with you and the leaders of your land about trade and friendship between us." Jacobs smiled his hands still clearly visible to the watch in front of him.

by **Wallenburg** » Thu Sep 03, 2015 10:29 am

"20 degrees to port!" shouted the admiral from the observation deck.

"Aye, sir. 20 degrees to port," said the helmsman in a thick mountain accent. He swung the wheel counterclockwise and watched the instruments carefully.

"Bring us to quarter-steam."

"Aye, sir." The helmsman leaned over to the intercom to the boilers and shouted, "Quarter steam, lads!"

"Turbines slowing to quarter steam."

The battleship had spotted a small town of sorts along the coast and was now circling into its harbor. The admiral had been baffled to see tall sailing ships resting against the docks, clearly laden with cargo considering how low they were in the water. He had sent out a radio message on all frequencies greeting the town, but there was no response.

"All right. Cut the engines and drop anchor here."

The helmsman and some orderlies communicated the orders as Holston climbed down the superstructure down to the wardroom. He had called a meeting to deal with the situation. When he stepped in, the loud singing of his men assaulted his eardrums. "What the devil? What is going on?"

"Just celebrating the discovery of another people, sir. Wishing them peace and equality and whatnot," said a lieutenant, quickly coming to attention as the admiral walked in.

"Well, you can tell them that in person. I want an away team to figure out where we are and who we have come across. You, the captain, and my translator will lead the mission."

"Aye, sir." He stood silent and the room became awkwardly quiet. The admiral kept his eyes on the lieutenant. "A-anything else, sir?"

The admiral nodded. "Try to find their leadership. I want to find out what kind of people rule here. Dismissed."

The officers filed out and Holston returned to the bridge. There was movement in the quaint town as a rib boat skimmed across the water, away from the Alliance and toward the wooden docks.

by **Esalonia** » Fri Sep 04, 2015 3:57 am

Cyrol Castle, Gleforland

The master at arms told them that he was no king, but rather the master at arms of the castle. He then mentioned the names of his superiors.

"So they're the local monarchs? I'm very interested to meet them. I'm interested to meet Lord and Lady Strange."

by **Gleforland** » Mon Sep 07, 2015 9:43 pm

The Habal Coast, Glenforland

The barrage of questions made Arlen visibly uncomfortable, Alexander could visibly see the man think about the current election for the Throne.
'Well, there's old King Learas's daughter Cwenthia. Apparently she's a fiery young thing, she's quite popular with many groups or so I've heard in my travels. She's level headed and bright, but she's young, unmarried and more likely than not a virgin, which doesn't win you too many favours when you're trying to become King, or Queen for that matter.'
'The next up is Lord Glen, he's an accomplished General and a Hero to many in the Kingdom, killed the Mountain King in single combat, which earned him a fair bit of recognition. He's never lost a battle and his marriage with a powerful noblewoman has raised his house from a minor Baron into a very influential Earl. Other than his reputation as a warrior I know very little about him. Other than his dedication to Varval the Headsman, one of the more popular Gods in the North.'
'Lady Artan is apparently a wily one, she outed her older brother somehow and assumed rulership of her house. Uncommon for a Second Born to do. But I know otherwise very little of her, even though she's Vortigan's liege Lady.'

Duamshire, Gleforland

Master Feltas looked from Ambassador Jacobs, to his men, and on to the Osprey's.
'That is quite the show of force for someone looking for friends.' He replied barely loud enough for Jacobs to hear. 'If you are indeed here in the name of peace and trade however, I welcome you, and your men to Duamshire!' He beckoned the men forwards and motioned for the watch to part for them. 'It is growing a little late however mister Jacobs, would you and your men care to join me in my manor for supper?'

The Granite Shore

There was plenty of frantic activity near the jetty as the Away Team and their boat neared the docks. Rough looking men and women were scampering all around, gathering up their things, running for cover, shouting and clamouring to get away from the enormous vessel which had appeared in their midst. In the distance a horn of some kind was blowing and the sound of iron shod horses hooves clattering on cobblestones further into the reasonable sized town could be heard faintly on the wind.
Doors were closed and windows shuttered as the men drew closer. Few people stayed on the docks, and most of them were gathering up their possesions and making a line for the many alleys which led off the dock.
It was clear these people were terrified and wary, the Battleship was easily the largest man made structure they had ever seen in this town, and it was probably visible from almost anywhere around as well. Anyone in the hills as well as the town would have seen them.

A few carrier ravens took off from various parts of the town as the Away team docked.
As the sound of hoofbeats drew closer and they secured their boat, they could see a large tavern had remained open, as had a few guild houses and an unsecured Warehouse, which seemed quite empty and, being on dry land, could serve as an ideal base for them if they were to spend any lengthy time on shore.

Cyrol Castle, Gleforland

The Master of Arms stroked his beard, 'Lord Strange is currently away to elect a new King, or Queen as I said before. But I believe Lady Strange may be willing to grant you an audience. If you and your men are happy to leave your weapons at the door to the hall.'

by **Ostar** » Tue Sep 08, 2015 8:30 pm

Duamshire, Gleforland

"I assure you it is a small security force, just as you have." Jacobs said smiling. He motioned for his two suited agents to follow him. "We'd be honored to join you!" Jacobs replied letting out a chuckle. "The men down by our transports will stay there. The two gentlemen behind me go by the names of Francis and Stark. Don't mind them they don't speak much." Johnson walked towards the Mayor, his two agents following behind. "This is quite the city you have here Mayor, if you don't mind me asking how long has it been here? I'm sure you have questions for me as well which I will be happy to answer over a hot meal." Jacobs chuckled again. He was doing his best to stay light-hearted and happy to make his hosts as comfortable as possible.

Coast, Gleforland
Bridge of the Aircraft Carrier, Cullen

Captain John Teller stood just outside the carrier binoculars fixed on the coastline. Teller was still amazed these people had been undiscovered for so long.

"Captain, we have multiple hits on our radars." A young ensign reported.

Teller moved towards the radar screen. "Anything incoming or showing hostile intent? Command warned us there would be others here."

"No sir, everyone is holding steady just as we are."

"Johnson, inform the strike group no one is to do anything that would show any sort of hostile action. We are strictly on the defensive and here to support the Ambassador that has already made landfall." The Captain read aloud as Ensign Johnson scribbled the captain's orders.

"Aye, aye sir." Johnson jogged off to the radio room and sent the orders to the rest of the strike group.

There were 10 ships in all, the Aircraft Carrier Cullen, four destroyers, one supply ship, a transporter that had construction equipment and land transport, and three cruisers. Normally a Ostarian Carrier strike group was 40 ships, but Command didn't want to make the locals or the other nations nervous. The remaining 30 ships were some 120 nautical miles away, but would be able to come to the aid of their sister ships in just two short hours.

by **Esalonia** » Wed Sep 09, 2015 3:51 am

Cyrol Castle, Gleforland

The compromise of meeting the local bigwig-Lady Strange-was a bit bad, but the soldiers were trained fighters in hand to hand combat. Leaving their weaponry-assault rifles, knifes, pistols, trench axes, machetes, grenades, even magazines-by the door was a rather risky option. Who knows if these guys come charging in full battle ready gear and they can't fight back?

But since they preferred diplomacy over fighting, they had to make a compromise. General Johnson agreed to the Master At Arms' offer, and when the master at arms offered to lead them they began to walk, following the master at arms and his entourage. Captain Flynn then thought of having a squad report back to HQ to tell them what they found-civilization, which would be further reinforced with the use of the helmet-mounted cameras. "Halo 2-2, get a squad of marines and report back to the Armada flagship." Captain Flynn radioed to a helicopter, with marines getting on it as the officials and the entourage, starkly contrasting in terms of combat technology and doctrine, went inside the castle. "Roger that. Halo 2-2 taking off."

The platoon, now 40 strong, followed the master at arms towards where Lady Strange was. At the door to the hall they left all weaponry, from knives to handguns to grenades.

by **The GAmeTopians** » Wed Sep 09, 2015 8:42 am

Three speedboats skipped over the ocean's waves. A man stood at the bow of the front speedboat, observing the horizon. A communications officer at the back of the boat frowned, and walked up to the man.
"Sir, we're detecting uncharted territory due east, a couple miles. Strangely, we've never even bothered scanning it from the satellites. Should we investigate?"
The man at the bow grinned.
"Definitely. Send a message detailing this to the homeland, and tell them to send the colonization fleet. If these are good people we help them learn our tech, and if not we have a new colony."
The officer nodded, sending off a message to both boats, and started on a message to the Royal Empire. All three boats changed direction until they were facing the unknown territory.

by **Libraria and Ausitoria** » Fri Sep 11, 2015 3:50 am

The Habal Coast, Glenforland

Alexander nodded at Arlen's information, trying not to get annoyed by the slow response. Evidently education standards in Gleforland were primitive.

"And who does Lord Vortigen support?" he asked, gazing out to sea as the ship prepared the helicopter.

by **Gleforland** » Fri Sep 11, 2015 6:38 am

Duamshire, Gleforland

'Hardly a city,' Mayor Feltas chuckled, 'but it's a fine town, and steadily growing under my hand. Unlike some of my predecessors. Follow me then Ambassador.' Feltas motioned for Jacobs and his men to follow him through the winding streets.
'Duamshire has stood here for as long back as any man, woman or book can remember,' Feltas explained as they walked through the streets which at times narrowed, and others widened. Everything was neat and tidy in design, but some sections of the Town were certainly better planned out. The outskirts had been designed by a more than capable urban planner, and Jacobs could see that Feltas wasn't simply boasting about the recent growth of Duamshire. 'But as a trade hub and growing settlement, Duamshire has only exsisted for the past five centuries. It used to be little more than a hamlet for quite some time, until the local Shire Reeve started a project to widen the river, and turn the river into a much more enticing stop for river trading boats. Not long after the roads were built. The rest is history in our growth.' They passed an enormous blacksmith, five men worked tirelessly on all kinds of metal appliances, tools and even a ceremonial dagger. The Blacksmith complex extended backwards off the street, this building, probably a guildhouse could host at least twenty men and half again as many apprentices.
'We'll avoid the marketplace if that is all well and good.' Feltas explained, taking Jacobs down another alley, 'I may own half the merchants here, but I'd rather not let the people stare too much, they've already got a good look at your... transport.' He waved towards where the transports lay in the field beyond.

Feltas's manor house was quite large and extravagant by local standards, it's high stone walls looked like the minature version of castle fortifications, it was almost as if there would be little Mice Knights guarding its gate. Alas Feltas merely withdrew a number of keys, dismissed his guards and opened the gate.
Within his estate there was a small decorative pool and a nice garden.
Feltas beckoned the men inside, where they were greeted by two servants, whom offered to take their travelling coats.
'I would introduce my family now, but there's no doubt my wife has taken Tomas to the market with her and the others may well be anywhere in or around the estate. So I think we'll keep introductions until dinner has been prepared by my personal chef. I managed to hire him all the way out of Moorwen, at no small expense I might add. Now if you gentlemen will follow me, I have a more than pleasant room to receive guests in.'
It wasn't far at all from the main door, the men entered and were greeted by a warm room with a small fire roaring in a nearby hearth. A number of small paintings dotted the walls, a few were of landscapes but the rest were portraits, one in particular was obviously Feltas and one who must be his wife. The woman is clearly with child in the painting, and both look young enough to have been first time parents in the portrait.
The rest of the pictures are portraits of various, unclear figures. Some are covered in what must be local religious iconography, although the subjects of the paintings are completely unfamiliar.

'Gentlemen take a seat,' Feltas declared as he himself sat down on a large, comfortable looking chair covered in cushions. There were a number of other, similar chairs and benches around the room. This was undoubtedly the place where Feltas met most dignitaries and people of note. The nearby window showed a pleasant view of the town below as well as the river.

'Dinner should be served shortly, although if you would perhaps like a nice Brandy, or a Wine, feel free to take one from the nearby cabinet over there. There should be some nice silver mugs to drink from in there as well, assuming the servants got round to cleaning them this morning.'

Cyrol Castle, Gleforland

The soldiers modern weapons were locked up tight in a number of storage chests for safe keeping, although the trench axes and machetes drew quite a few approving looks from the soldiers, who could tell how finely made these weapons were, and how deadly they could be.

From there they were ushered into the great hall. The great dining table lay bare save for the few ornaments left along it. The walls were covered in tapestry's and paintings of all manner of things, from great members of House Strange, to notable Kings and Queens, famous battles and a few buildings that must be major religious sites around the country. The pilgrims present in the latter photographs were a familiar sight for anyone who had ever seen a medieval pilgrim in film or television, bar the lack of a Cross pendant. The local religious iconography varied greatly and to be able to pick out each individual one would require a great deal of scrutiny.

There were plenty of chairs for each man in the platoon at the table, although some of them would be quite a far way away from the head table which ran across the top of the main table like a T. Sitting at this table was a relatively young woman, a young child sat beside her, their eyes bulging out of their head at the sight of the strange foreigners. The woman stroked the childs head reassuringly with one hand.
At either side of the table stood a man at arms in full chain-mail, each with a heavy broadsword and a solid tear drop shield.

'Gentlemen,' The woman declared once they were all through the door. 'Welcome to Cyrol Castle. Please, take a seat at the table. Your liege may come and sit here before me.' She indicated the chair just below her table, a position of importance among anyone outside the Lords household. 'There'll be a small offering of food brought up from the kitchens shortly, it's impolite to leave one's guests unfed after all.'

The Habal Coast, Glenforland

'It's hard to tell honestly.' Arlen replied, 'He was a good friend of the late King, and I know he'd look favourably upon Princess Cwenthia, but he has a lot of respect for Lord Glen, the two of them have served on a number of battlefields and Glen is technically his liege lord. Although our land is quite a way away from Glen's own lands.' Arlen shrugged, 'definitely not alligned with Lady Yelise, there's nothing but distaste between their houses. Someone probably poisoned someone else too far back for anyone to remember or something like that. Can't always tell with high and mighty noble types.'

Farglow Coast

The GAmeTopians approached this new land swiftly, despite the autumn waves becoming fiercer and fiercer in the sea. Things were going well, although the coast seemed completely uninhabited from here. There were no city lights, or even the dim glow of a cabin fire in sight from here. As they drew closer it became obvious that the coast was dotted with treacherous looking cliffs, but there was plenty of space to land properly and go ashore, even more appealing was how heavilly forested the area was, that would do wonders for breaking the relentless autumn winds.

A New Land (MT, IC)

A New Land (MT, IC)

Admiral Markus Holston || WPS Alliance || Tremor-class Battl

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