Durlo-Ephyral Conflict (CoIN only - Closed)

[Durland and Amany]

The
Durlo-Ephyral Conflict





Background

The Land of the Ephyral has invaded the Durlish Crown Colony of Gracia (known in Ephyral as Gibraltar). The Administrator-General and Chief Minister of Gracia have been forced to flee the colony and have returned to the Durlish capital of Alderrden in order to converse with the Durlish First Minister and King, and to remain safe.

Ephyral military officers have formed a military junta in the colony, to prepare for the formal annexation of the tiny territory into the Land of the Ephyral proper. Durlish forces are preparing to retake the territory.


His Royal Majesty The King of Durland and Amany (left) and his leadership counterpart, Her Seraphic Illustriousness the Khālanī of Ephyra (right) are leading two countries which are at war.


Commanders

Durland:
HRM The King, The Hon. Lex Pfeffel MHR (First Minister) and General Sir Peter Nieves GCCM DSD (Chief of the General Staff)

Ephyral:
HSI The Khālanī and Visegon vay Bloodfyre (commander of Ephyral forces and brother of the Khālanī)


Rules

The RP will be conducted ONLY by the United Kingdom of Durland and Amany and the Empire of the Land of Ephyral - Do NOT try to get involved in this thread.

The United Kingdom and Ephyral will be the only combatants.

Do NOT post on this thread if you are not a combatant.

~

[The Land of the Ephyral]

Aggressor
Land of the Ephyral

"Your Majesty." Visegon knelt before his sister, whom sat upon the Immortal Throne of Ephyra. Many of their family line had graced the seat upon which Alyrya sat. Each before them had said that the throne changes whomever sits upon it, Visegon felt that was painfully true. He still felt their brother's loss. Murdered by rebels and traitors. He had killed many in repayment.

"Visegon." Alyrya spoke softly as she usually did, but the seriousness prevailed. "The time has come to re-take what was always ours. During the fall of Spain, the Durlish took Gibraltar from us and we have yet to ever re-take it. They name it "Gracia", as if to mask what it actually is. Ours." The Ephyral Khālanī rose and Visegon lifted his head. "You will take the 2nd Shock Legion and your naval group and make for Gibraltar. Sycoryus will take over the operations in the Africanus until your return, but I need you for this. Gibraltar is defended, but weakly, they are not prepared for us."

"The Durlish will retaliate quickly once they learn Gibraltar has fallen. It is too small to hold the entire legion."

"Then send the majority to sweep in from the north. We don't need the entire legion to take Gibraltar but we'll need them to occupy it. The naval group will blockade from the west, south and east, they will not be able to flee."

Visegon nodded. "And the other legions?"

"The 5th is with Sycoryus, they will stay with him to bring the Africanus to heel once more. The 1st and 3rd are already deployed around Iberia, mostly to deter France and Obriana from considering attacks. The 4th will stay here."

The man rose at her signalled behest. At full stature he towered above his sister. "I will do as you command your Majesty. What of the other European powers. Italy needs no further provocation to invade, and the French aren't exactly favourable towards us either."

Alyrya shrugged in dismissal. "I am quite certain the Durlish will consider this a slight upon their honour. They will prove to the world that they can defeat us by themselves. They'll reject and even condemn aid from their allies, the arrogant fools. I have given you your task brother, how you complete it is up to you. I'm trusting your military prowess on this matter."

"Gibraltar will be yours." Visegon bowed and turned to leave.

~

Visegon stepped onto Gibraltar. It was a beautiful piece of land it had to be said. But far too Durlish. The assault had been swift and decisive, and his soldiers swarmed the area. Many of the Durlish soldiers had the sense to surrender, those that didn't had promptly died. He turned to his officers. "Inform her Majesty that Gibraltar has been taken. Establish border posts and keep an eye out for any ship or aircraft flying Durlish colours, on that note I still see that Durlish flag flying, take it down and raise the harpy. Give any approaching vessel bearing Durlish insignia a single warning to cease, otherwise destroy it." Now then Durland, how much do you care for this rock...

[Durland and Amany]

Defender
Durland and Amany


The House of Representatives was packed; there was not room to belch, let alone to move. The whole room was a buzz, with there being loud conversations and debates among the members over the topic of the hour - the invasion of Gracia. People were seated in their allocated seats, standing in the isles, scattered across the floor, and cramped in the viewing gallery. Amongst this chaos, Lex Pfeffel sat, calmly, reading through his notes for the speech he will be making to the house on the invasion.

"Order!" The Speaker of the House of Representatives called for the house to quiet down and come to order. The bell, by the side of the speaker, was rung; this was the official call to order. The noise in the chamber slowly dissipated, and finally came to a quiet and slow conclusion, and a mute atmosphere encroached upon the legislative assembly. "Government statements, the Honourable First Minister!" the Speaker called, breaking the silence.

"Thank you, Mr Speaker...", Lex Pfeffel began, "... today we meet in serious and unfortunate circumstances; at twenty-three hundred hours yesterday evening, Ephyral military forces invaded and took over the Crown Colony of Gracia, forcing the legal and internationally recognized government of Gracia and the Administrator-General from the territory and into political exile. While still going over details of military operations in the area, this government will commit itself to retaking the territory and forcing the occupiers from the colony". Cheers arose from the backbenches.

~

HRMS Valiant began moving slowly from the docks in the Cypriot Territories, 167 men preparing to fight for their King and country. Commanded by Captain Michael Ramsay, the ship pulled away from sunny Cyprus, and moved towards the Naporia Islands to team up with other Naval Security Service ships to sail to Gracia.

The troops were armed with the best of Durlish military equipment, including SA80 assault rifles and Glock pistols. Some were not even twenty, whilst others were in their forties, but they were the best trained troops in the world, and faced an enemy that relied on fear as opposed to training.

[The Land of the Ephyral]

Aggressor
Land of the Ephyral

Visegon vay Bloodfyre took his seat in the government building in Gibraltar. The Durlish flags had been replaced with the harpy and trident. He assessed the officers arrayed before him. Every one of them had served with him, he knew them all by name, rank and history. They would hold Gibraltar for Ephyral or die in the attempt. The room was quiet as his subordinates waited for him to speak.

"Gentlemen, we have little time. The Durlish naval forces are on the move. Their aim is simple. They want to drive us back to where we came from. The Italian dogs have already pledged their 'moral support' to the Durlish. Our naval forces are undoubtedly inferior compared to the Durlish, but they cannot yet muster their whole navy. This fight is over Gibraltar, they do not want to risk a full-scale war by inviting their entire navy to the fight. Likewise our task is to hold this land, not take more. Captain Vynar, I'm placing you in command of our naval forces here. Major Anerel, you will head the land defences. We cannot fit all of our soldiers to meet the enemy, so I will set up defensive positions further back. Essen, Opelion, Kahnaron, you will join Vynar and repel or break the Durlish naval forces. Mopaar, Ostyris, I'm placing you under Anerel's command. We must not lose this rock."

Visegon rose from his seat and his officers mirrored him. "Do you all understand why we are here, and why we must achieve victory?"

"Yes, your Highness!"

~

The naval group was notably small, consisting of only four ships, as most of the ground troops had struck from the north. One Sword-class Cruiser, the HSIS Rahnaesanne with three Kraken-class Frigates as support. Captain Vynar stood upon the Rahnaesanne and gazed east, awaiting the Durlish force that must soon arrive. On shore, the regiments were preparing under Major Anerel's direction. Without a doubt, they would most likely outnumber the Durlish ground forces, but not their fleet. Armed with Ephyral-designed technology, the coming fight would tell whether the forces were equally matched or if one had the advantage.

[Durland and Amany]

Defender
Durland and Amany


They moved slowly from the small dinghy's onto the shore. Clad in black and armoured up with kevlar and steel plates, they silently floated from the tide and crouched behind a rock wall, which was positioned against a concrete wall. There were twelve of them - six in each dinghy - and were armed to the teeth. MP5s, Glock pistols, stun grenades, and actual armed grenades. The Special Air Service had arrived.

"Move, move" the commander, an unnamed operative, clad in the same military livery as the other operatives whispered. He crouched by the wall, with gun in his black gloved hands, and pointed up, hinting to the top of the wall. It was fairly high, probably about twenty-feet or so. An operative, with a balaclava adorned over his unseen face, took a piece of service equipment from his bulky uniform and pointed it to the top of the wall. *Thud*. The gun fired a zip wire to the top of the wall, clamping into it. The gun was positioned under a rock and the wire tightened and tensed. "Move". The operatives began to climb the wire.

They were an advance force; they were not the full fighting capability of the Durlish Security Force, but a small attachment serving to review and comprehend Ephyral defences in the annexed territory. They eyed the Ephyral flag, flying from a lone flagpole by the sea. "You bugger!" one whispered in a strong northern accent. They could not see anybody - military or otherwise - apart from the odd monkey. "Where the bloody hell are these sods?" one operative asked, in a slight Geraintish accent.

"Sshhh!" the commanding officer ordered, and pointed towards movement by a small building on the coast. There they were - the Ephyral. One operative raised his gun, but the barrel was pushed down by the hand of the commander. "Wait", he whispered, "we need to eye the targets and eliminate them quickly." The Ephyral had their backs turned, and seemed to be unknowing to the threat that awaited them. There were two, and they were leant, forward, against the wall of the building.

"Forward with wire", the commander called, "Evans, Paul, move". The Commander, and these two operatives crept over the fence that lay before them and the Ephyral, and crept silently towards them. The Commander and this Evans pulled, from their pockets, strangle wire. They wrapped it around their hands and moved, with ever-increasing speed, towards the Ephyral troops. They were nearly there - only a couple of metres or so - and then the door to the building opened.

[The Land of the Ephyral]

Aggressor
Land of the Ephyral

"Now, now!" Lieutenant Ostyris hissed. The doors to the building opened and his squad poured out, more took to the windows. The two soldiers with their back turned to the enemy promptly shifted and dealt execution blows to the two Durlish operatives approaching them.

~

Utter chaos erupted as the Shock Legion opened fire upon the Durlish positions. The Durlish SAS were heavily outnumbered by the Ephyral troops. The Ephyral combatants made no battle-cries or any other noise barring the firing of their guns. Crouched behind their wall, the Durlish had no way to fire back that wouldn't result in a bullet or three slamming right into them, even with body armour the damage was like to be high. There was a single cry and the gunmen broke off their chain of fire. Several grenades were tossed, poised to land where the Durlish hid. The Ephyral gunmen re-loaded and took aim.

~

"Your Majesty?"

Alyrya was sat in the lounge of the palace as the messenger hailed her. She rose to meet him and he promptly knelt before her. "Yes Arcaennon, what is it?"

"His Highness, your brother Visegon, he has made report stating that Gibraltar has been taken and is under our control. However he also reports that the Durlish are beginning their assault to re-take the land."

"Where is my brother?"

"He did not disclose your Majesty."

Alyrya sat herself down. The Durlish struck back sooner than I thought... "Send word to the 1st and 3rd Legions, I want them on standby should they need to meet attackers from anywhere else. Inform my brother that we must hold Gibraltar. Throw the Durlish back into the sea!"

[Durland and Amany]

Defender
Durland and Amany


"Holy-!" The SAS were now under attack; their commander and comrade were down. Dead. Their lives were now in the balance - between being dead and alive. They couldn't return fire for feat of being hit, and their could not move positions for fear of being gunned down. *BANG!* Grenades exploded all around them, throwing debris, soil, and concrete into the air, and creating a smoke storm which blinded Ephyral and Durlish alike.

"Let's get out of this sodding hell-hole!" One operative screamed as he fell over himself. The SAS operatives, behind the cover of the smoke and debris, moved from their positions and jumped back down the wire and to the rocks at the bottom of the wall. Returning fire from the dinghies and throwing a few grenades at the coastal wall, they pushed themselves from the land and rapidly paddled their dinghy's back to sea.

The two Durl's who were killed - the Commander and an operative - remained in their position at death. Their bodies lifeless, but their sacrifice worth while

Marfont Hall, Alderrden

"First Minister! First Minister!" Lex Pfeffel's private secretary came running into the room, holding a piece of paper up high. It was an official paper. Pfeffel was sitting at his desk, with a picture of the King and his family beside him. Behind him, on the wall, sit another large portrait of His Royal Majesty, and a flag sit to the rear of his left shoulder. He was signing off government papers.

"What is it?" Pfeffel asked, worn out and annoyed. He took off his glasses and put the lid on his pen. "Mr Pfeffel, sir! We have news from Gracia!" The First Minister stood up, banging his knee and shouting expletives as he did so, and snatched the paper from his private secretary. "No. No. No, no, no, NO!" Pfeffel screamed as he tugged at his golden hair. "How did we allow this to happen!? The King will have my head for this; he have me up by my arse before you can say 'buggered up'!"

"Well, I think tha-" the private secretary began, but was cut off by the First Minister. "I need to think." He waited, and pondered. "No, I know what to do." Pfeffel retook his seat, and placed his hands on the desk. "Bomb the buggers." The private secretary straightened up, with a look of horror on his face. "I'm sorry, sir?" Pfeffel was grinning, "I said bomb the buggers. Blow them out of this galaxy!" The private secretary moved towards him, "You can't do that, sir! There may be civilian casualties!"

The First Minister stood up, again, and moved to the window overlooking central Alderrden. "We have two men down. We have a colony under foreign occupation. We have a populous that wants war and a Gracian people who want blood. They know there would be fighting; they are brave people - Durlish people, in fact. I want you to move in some ships, and fire a few warning shots where nobody will be hurt. Wait a bit, and then start firing proper. Make those sorry tossers pay!"

"But sir!" The Private Secretary called, "You can't do-" The First Minister turned, "I will do what I want! I have had the go ahead from the King to take personal command, and you are HIS servant and you will do as HE wishes. Tell the general staff I want THREE ships firing at Gracia before the week is out. I want there to be a show of force, and without any casualties if at all possible. DO IT!" The First Minister was fuming; he was red. He turned, and peered out of the window.

"Sir!" the parliamentary secretary bellowed; he was annoyed at not being allowed to speak, "They will not sanction a bombing from sea, or air, because of the threat to human life and the lack of accuracy that could come due to, either, distance or because Gracia is so crowed and small." The First Minister turned, and wiped his face; he had began to sweat. "Yes... I suppose you are right. Sorry." The First Minister wondered over, aimlessly, to a bust of former king Edward VII, which sat in the corner of the room. "I think we should prepare, then, for a major landing offensive. Get the Chief of Staff to draw up plans for a landing."

[The Land of the Ephyral]

Aggressor
Land of the Ephyral

~ Shoreline, Gibraltar ~

When the smoke of the detonation had cleared, the Durlish were back in their dinghies and paddling away as fast as they could. "Let them go." Ostyris ordered, and the soldiers lowered their weapons. "Let them run and give first-hand experience of what it feels like to face Ephyra. Maintain position and send word if you see any activity by the Durlish, I am to report to His Highness." The whole shore-side became busy as COs and NCOs ordered troops about, preparing for the return they knew would happen.

~ Government Building, Gibraltar ~

Visegon stared at the portrait of King George VII of the United Kingdom of Durland and Amany, large and hanging on the wall behind the seat he had taken for himself. He pondered the workings of this man's head. "A King who doesn't lead his people..." he muttered, before turning at the knock on his new door. "Enter!" He called.

"Your Highness." Lieutenant Ostyris was walked to the other side of Visegon's desk by two Sovereign Protectors, whom turned to resume their position. The man gave a salute to his commanding officer, and then knelt before his Prince, the one and the same man. After receiving permission to rise, he began to speak. "The Durlish sent an advance force of what we believe to have been at least a dozen men to check our defences. We caught them in an ambush as they made their way up the shore and killed their commander that we know of, judging by his body anyway. Those that weren't killed fled back to their ships."

Visegon took his seat and admired the pearl harpy he had placed on the grand oak desk. It had onyx eyes and carried a golden trident. Truly beautiful and absolutely deadly... "This is good news Lieutenant. Her Seraphic Illustriousness has informed me that a great many states, including the Italians, the Neigelanders and Kin Jidai have most vehemently condemned us for our illegal invasion. Have you seen how none of them have come to Durland's aid? The Romans in Constantinople have used our attack to their own advantage, whilst our new friends in Yurizlansia have elected to not join either side. Enjoy this moment Ostyris. As of right now we are the most globally influencing nation on the planet because we took a piece of rock that was always ours to start with. Can you imagine our future? Buildings across Europe and Africa will have portraits of my sister, not this self-proclaimed King." He gestured to the portrait of the Durlish man, who was in Visegon's opinion very haughty looking.

"As you say your Highess, I fear however a larger force of Durlish is soon to try our defences. We cannot fit the whole legion within Gibraltar-"

"We don't have to. Gibraltar has been joined into the Eastern Iberian Freehold. Thus any attack on Gibraltar by their forces can be repelled across the entire front. The 3rd legion is culminating along the eastern coast as we speak, just in case. But it is the job of the 2nd legion to hold Gibraltar. Your job." Visegon stood. "This land is ours Lieutenant. The Durlish swine were smashing rocks together in a pathetic attempt at fire at the same time we raised the greatest city that ever existed, and built the most magnificent empire in all of history. We have taken their people as slaves before, offered them the chance of servitude as opposed to annihilation. And what could be a finer fate than serving the people of fire who tamed the ocean. Keep the legion on alert Ostyris. I want no surprises. When the Durlish come, we will know about it. My sister has ordered us to take and hold this rock. The harpy will fly here, its people will be chained to our service as we have done a thousand times before, and our soldiers will march, kill and die for Ephyra if it is necessary. Am I clear?"

"Yes your Highness!" Lieutenant Ostyris took one knee, before rising and moving to leave.

~ Mesinis Palace, Cydamae ~

Alyrya read the official papers she had been given by her messenger, Arcaennon. She was acutely aware of the man kneeling awkwardly at her feet, awaiting instructions. The Durlish sent a force to test our defences and we passed with flying colours. They will gear for another assault and the fighting will be difficult, I am confident however in our ability to resist the attack. I will keep you updated sister. May Ephyra Prevail. the message ended. "File these Arcaennon." She handed the letters down to him. "Have my brother's armoured forces arrived yet?" She inquired.

"Yes your Majesty, they crossed from the north not an hour after the Durlish attack was repelled."

"Good. Very good. He mustn't lose Gibraltar. Send word that if the Durlish attack again and fail, he's to execute one prisoner for every warrior we lose." She turned away to indicate she was done with him.

"At once your Majesty." Arcaennon rose and carried the papers away.

Alyrya took a drink, a glass of deep red wine and sipped.

[Durland and Amany]

Defender
Durland and Amany


The ships moved almost gracefully across the water, almost skipping across the vast waves that, although rather large, did little to indicate, through noise, that a most enormous Durlish convoy of military ships was lumbering towards the southern tip of Gracia. There were three ships: HRMS Valiant, HRMS Torpedo, and HRMS Sovereign, along with several other support vessels.

The ships cruised to a half-mile away from the coast of Gracia, without any lights blaring and with the engines turned off. The troops, belonging to the Ground Security Force and the Royal Naval Security Service, began to prepare for the attack on Gracia. Armed with SA80 assault rifles, MP5 submachine guns, flares, pistols, grenades, and tea-making facilities (always important), they lowered down onto dinghies and began to paddle towards the shore.

It was the dead of night, so Ephyral troops had stationed lights by the shore, and in the air, to check for any possible enemy persons coming close. The Durlish slowly and silently floated towards the coast, dodging the beams of light that calmly moved from left to right across the water. Without an alarm being raised, the Durls made it to the shore, making a tiny bit of noise due to the misplacing of the tiny rocks and stones on the not-so-good beach-type coast (literally a few metres of stones). They trod carefully, as to not make too much noise, as they crept towards Gracia proper.

Suddenly, a light came out of nowhere and threatened to ruin the secrecy of the operation. The Durls bolted, but the light was too quick and they were spotted. Calls rang out from behind the lights, and suddenly the whole area lit up; the Ephyral had placed multiple lights there to ensure full vision, and gunfire forced the Durls to take cover. The Durls, well trained and more prepared than previously thought, returned fire and eliminated several targets, throwing grenades and flash bangs, which allowed for a quick advance.

The Durls forced their way up a tiny hill, and eliminated several more targets, but received heavy losses due to the placement of a machine gun post right before them. Almost ten Durlish troops were mowed down as they made their advance, and the Durls had to retreat, before moving towards a small hut, taking cover behind it.

[The Land of the Ephyral]

Aggressor
Land of the Ephyral

The legion kept the lights on the last position of the Durlish as they had tried to swarm up the shore, and fired when movement was seen. A substantial amount of soldiers lay dead or dying from the shots launched from the Durlish assault rifles. A cry went up of "Mivokaly merere kormēyrīgon!" which was translated for the Durlish in an Ephyral accent "Die slaves!" Several buildings and positions held firm against the attack as the Durlish hid behind a small hut, exchanging fire with the Ephyral warriors, casualties being taken on both sides. Another cry went up, one of shock however.

The spotlights had detected the three ships, with yet more Durlish forces being deployed to the southern tip of Gibraltar. Ephyral soldiers focused on the hut were taken by surprise as the Durlish forces crept up the beach, taking shots at any soldier in sight. The darkness and the brightness of the lights made it difficult to see anything that wasn't directly in the spotlight rendering many soldiers light-blind. Fresher recruits along the left flank began to break at the unfaltering advance of the Durls, who were utilising flash bangs to blind followed by grenades to kill, combined with automatic weapon-fire from sub-machine guns, assault rifles and pistols.

Orders were shouted at the Ephyral forces in the centre and right flank, where the defensive line held strongest but soon they began to crumble as the Durlish pushed inexorably through their left wing. Faced with a prepared enemy they couldn't break, the forces on the south fled further inland to regroup with other forces.

[Durland and Amany]

Defender
Durland and Amany


They pushed onwards, eliminating enemy after enemy, and eventually pushed onto solid Gracian ground, securing the beachhead. Explosions echoed around them and debris fell from the sky, like rain or hail - a result of the numerous grenades being thrown from both sides. The Durlish troops had taken advantage of Ephyral weaknesses in the centre; they had reinforced their east and west wings. The Durlish aimed most of its firepower and strength at this point in Ephyral defences.

However, the Durlish were weakest in their centre, and Ephyral troops managed to slowly increase the numbers of dead Durls through their focus on the Durls' middle; almost twenty Durls were killed in the centre, all instantly killed or slowly bleeding out. This was slowly turning into a war of attrition. Whatever the end of this conflict, there will be many deaths.

"We need to get their wings!" a voice called from the frontline, and it was as if a dividing line passed through the centre of the Durlish troops, as they split and began firing at the wings of the Ephyral troops. Some Ephyral retreated, but this was compensated by the strengthening of the west wing by central forces, which required more firepower from the Durlish side.

Artillery continued to be fired, and grenades were continually thrown from side to side. Gunfire was rampant, and screams of pain and orders calling for movement alike rang out from both sides. The Durls began to advance, but it seemed that the Ephyral were in such a position that it would be impossible to break their defences.

[The Land of the Ephyral]

Aggressor
Land of the Ephyral

The retreating Ephyral soldiers stopped at the sight of their fellows rushing forward to take position, and quickly turned to join them now that they had superior numbers. The Durlish were persistent in their attack up the beachhead, with at least two dozen of them having been cut down, and more still coming into the line of fire. Explosions rocked all around as grenades were tossed from one side to the other and back again. With their line re-assembled, Ephyral warriors slowly pressed forwards against the Durls, taking cover behind whatever was available and firing over it. Bodies littered the beach and the solid ground beyond, Ephyral and Durlish dead alike. The regiment of the legion held fast against their attackers and edged closer to victory.

A slow war-chant came from the advancing soldiers as they marched, an act of psychological warfare to inflict terror upon their enemy. It was dark, and the Durlish were facing a legion of shadows crying for death. Terror was the ultimate weapon.

~ Government building, Gibraltar ~

The Royal Khālanzadā could hear the fighting from here. He was sat at the desk, the portrait of King George VI had been taken down and was currently positioned next to him. With little else to do, Visegon had found himself talking to the painting. "Do you hear that George? That's the sound of your countrymen dying in your name for land that should never have been in your hands." He looked at the painting and got up, picking up a glass from the side and filling it with Durlish wine that was in the cabinet. He took a swig and decided it wasn't that bad. "Give up Durland. We have spent decades mastering defensive warfare. You will not take Gibraltar from us again." He looked back at the painting. From this angle, it almost looked distressed...

[Durland and Amany]

Defender
Durland and Amany


The Durls could not push forward anymore; they had been overpowered by the enemy forces and were forced to retreat back to the beachhead. The three-hundred or so troops were outnumbered three to one and could not continue fighting for fear of losing too many men. The soldiers fell back, still keeping up a steady fight from their entry point. Explosions continued to he heard and a mix of debris, soil, and concrete fell from the sky.

The troops began to fall back onto the 'beach', still firing at the enemy high above, and many being mowed down by machine guns stationed at the coastal walls. Some ran into the sea, some got hold of their dinghies and floated off, and some more were shot. Their blood staining the water. The troops disbanded and, with gun shots still ringing around them, retreated to the Durlish ships that were stationed off the coast.

Durlish Security Forces Command Naporia, Naporia Islands

Phones were ringing and the sounds of people talking could be heard only in the room where the command of forces was being made, with constant contact with Alderrden vital. A mix of military officers, dinnerladies, and the odd Naporia Islander stood and sat around the vast tables hosting maps of Gracia, the Mediterranean, and Ephyra proper.

"Sir!" a voice rang out amidst the chaos, as a lieutenant in the Royal Air Security Corps marched up to Vice Admiral Sir Beverly Ainsworth, the Commander of Durlish Security Forces Naporia, and a trusted naval commander, who had served in several positions prior to his posting in Naporia. "We've had news from Gracia. Troops dispersed. Many dead." The Vice Admiral turned, and took off his glasses. "Bollocks." Ainsworth said as he read the paper, "We're really in it now." He marched over to the table with a map of Gracia on it. He stared at it, with his hands on his hips. He stared. Stared. "There". He pointed to the east of Gracia, and then to the south and north, repeating himself. "I want as many troops as we can muster to these positions..." He pointed around the territory, "... so we can wipe these buggers out!"

Gracia, 0040 hrs

The ships moved slowly towards their designated points of attack, just off the coast of Gracia. Not just battleships, but smaller vessels armed with artillery awaited, sneaking closer to the coast. Several guns lay before the occupied coasts, awaiting their calling to defend the motherland.

Telephones on all ships were communicating with the Durlish Security Forces Command Naporia, which was to issue orders on the bombardment. The ships wait, their captains awaited the order. Suddenly, in the control rooms, a voice became audible, "Command to ship, command to ship, prepare for firing". The naval servicemen began to put their artillery into the weapons. "Fire". The word is repeated throughout the ships. Shouted. The weapons lay dormant, and then exploded. The artillery fires from the guns, and is then replenished. A pause comes before the results can be seen. The coast lit up with explosions as the artillery landed and demolished building and tree alike.

Suddenly, small vessels were 'fired' from the ships. These vessels contained fifty men a ship. There were eighteen of them. From behind them were dingies, carrying six men each. Twenty-five of them came floating towards the coast. 1,050 troops, well trained and dedicated to the cause, came floating towards the coast. They landed, eventually, in a sea of bullets.

[The Land of the Ephyral]

Aggressor
Land of the Ephyral

There was silence and then a bright flash in the distance off of the coast of the Ephyral positions. What followed was carnage. The barrage struck before the sound of the shot reached the ears of the Ephyral. There was no time to respond, react or prepare. The buildings which had held fast and given shelter and cover for the Ephyral defence were obliterated. The very ground itself had been churned and ripped apart by the artillery fire. In the aftermath of the simultaneous explosions, few of the defenders of that coastline remained. The sand and concrete, now mixed together in a violent mixture of debris and earth was littered with limbs and weapons and ammunition, all that remained of some individuals. A panicked cry went up from amongst the defenders as eighteen small transport vessels rammed up the beach, each one spitting out a force of Durlish soldiers, backed by dinghies.

The surviving Ephyral soldiers had lost their element of fear and the advantage of defence and began to retreat in-land, some firing wildly at their enemy as they did so, others simply turning to flee. Screams continued to pierce the night air as Ephyral warriors trapped under rubble or bleeding out slowly die, with some silenced by gunshot from the Durlish positions.

~ Government building, Gibraltar ~

Visegon had been gazing at a map of Gibraltar. The man had refused to sleep until the mission was successful. However now he was surrounded by officers, each yelling a different thing, and no words reached him. The shock-wave caused by the impact of enemy artillery fire had been colossal and had shaken the entire plaza. Even from here Visegon could see the fires of the beach, the sound of gunshots and grenades. A single officer managed to get through to him, yelling "Our front line is shattered, we hold position in-land but the Durlish dogs outnumber us!"

The Khālanzadā distanced himself from the men and women under his command who fought to gain control of the situation. "Silence!" He finally shouted, and to their credit all personnel obeyed and looked to him. "Ephyral soldiers are conditioned for this. They are trained for this. Being outnumbered is not a disadvantage to a well trained, prepared and organised force! So clearly they are lacking one of these fundamental things. We must identify it, and repair it. Our forces are well trained. Our forces are prepared for such a conflict. Evidently they are not organised! So the solution is not screaming at each other, but to organise them! From a second main line further inland, the rubble from the initial strike will protect out forces from a secondary naval bombardment, or else minimise the damage to mere collateral. Place the armoured forces and the remainder in a third line. We were given orders not to lose this land. It may well be that we are driven off, but we won't lose it. Fulfil your duty. Each of you swore an oath of undying loyalty, service and sacrifice to our Empress. Demonstrate your oath. Kill the Durlish or die in the process. The result will be the same. Gibraltar will be ours!

Visegon vay Bloodfyre took his seat as his personnel, finally understanding, hurried to obey his command. He turned to the portrait of George VI, still poised next to him. It seemed to the Ephyral man that the expression on his face had turned from distressed to smug.

~ Gibraltar beachhead ~

Officers rallied whomever was left into a final defence. Survivors from the carnage at the front were re-assembled into the defensive line. Many however it seemed had elected not to return to the fight, as too few joined what pitiful defence could be mustered.

Lieutenant Ostyris gazed out into the darkness. The Durlish would be upon them soon.

[Durland and Amany]

Defender
Durland and Amany


The troops moved swiftly onto the land, under an ever decreasing hail of bullets as they eliminate and frighten Ephyral troops into retreat. The hundreds of men charged forward, throwing grenades and launching themselves at their enemy; the recent killings of Durlish troops had angered them and spured them to act in such a way that no enemy could expect from the stereotypically reserved Durls.

There was no real formation to the Durlish advance; Gracia is such a small territory that the only real military strategy was to meet in the middle of Gracia and push to the border. The troops, armed with a mixture of modern Enfield assault rifles and historic Sten sub-machine guns, fired almost continuously from a line of advancing forces, which looked like a human wall extending from east to west. The Durlish triband flag flew from within the ranks, reminiscent of the times when a flag would be flown during battle in the centuries past.

Explosions, caused by artillery and grenades from both sides, did kill some Durls. Some died from shrapnel penetrating their skin and some died from being propelled into the air by the force of explosions. However, the number of troops could not overcome any artillery and, with the support of artillery from the ships out at sea, they pushed further and further into Gracia.

Soon, the troops had found themselves in residential Gracia. They had moved up the beach and began to move amongst local homes and neighbourhoods. Still eliminating enemy after enemy, they moved further and further. However, they neglected to realize that Ephyral defences were gradually getting stronger and stronger the further they moved forward. As they turned into a local square, artillery blasted several troops into oblivion. Tanks, machine guns, artillery and troops had stationed themselves in strong positions. Grenades continued to be thrown and soldiers on both sides were being killed.

[The Land of the Ephyral]

Aggressor
Land of the Ephyral

Confident, the Ephyral positions held for a short while. The Durlish however had other plans. With absolutely no intent of being driven back into the sea for a third time, the Ephyral soldiers scatted as reveral rocket propelled grenades were launched from the elite soldiers. Some struck buildings, sending debris flying into Ephyral combatants. Some made directly for Ephyral soldiers themselves, resulting in horrific deaths along the Ephyral line. Many however found their intended targets, and Ephyral tanks blew up almost harmoniously, the sound of the explosions deafening the Ephyral, rendering their world mute as bullets sliced through the air and cut down their comrades.

Pressing their advantage, what remained of the Ephyral resolve broke as their enemy recklessly charged their position, guns firing, grenades twirling and artillery hammering. With the majority of their line destroyed. Many Ephyral fled down the streets, whilst others threw down their weapons and raised their hands in surrender.

~ Government building, Gibraltar ~

The news of Ephyral forces being cut down and forced into surrender was too much for Visegon to handle. "Incompetent FOOLS!" He raged, slamming his hand down on the oak table. Lieutenant Mynari stood awkwardly behind him as he left a dent in the furnishing with repeated slams of his fist. He turned to the woman who held her composure despite his anger. "The 5th Legion has lost us Gibraltar!" He yelled at her, as if expecting some form of response.

Lieutenant Mynari decided to recommend something. "Your Highness, it would be a crippling blow were the Durlish dogs to capture you with this building. I suggest we evacuate you across the border, from there you can command the 3rd Legion."

"Yes, yes... I need to command our forces, not rot in a Durlish cell. How many of the 5th Legion remain in Gibraltar?"

"No more than four hundred your Highness. Most of them have scattered and are being hunted by the Durlish, the rest have surrendered."

"Surrendered. They are no true Ephyral. If my half-brother wasn't busy with them, I'd have brought the 2nd Legion. I would have watched with satisfaction as the Strait of Gibraltar ran red with Durlish mongrel blood." Visegon stalked towards the Lieutenant and looked her right in the eyes. "Make the necessary arrangements. Pull whomever is still loyal to our Empire out across the border, inform them they are now members of the 3rd Shock Legion. How many Durl's do we have prisoner?"

"Thirty-seven your Highness." The Lieutenant had visibly flinched under the Imperial's anger. "Your orders with them?"

"If they are injured and likely to die, execute them. If not, bind them and load them up. We're not leaving without a prize. Set this building ablaze! Go!" To her credit, Lieutenant Mynari hurried to obey. Visegon picked up his harpy ornament and turned to look at the portrait of the so-called King. "King... you're a mere mutt. We will have Gibraltar, if I have to come to your Palace and make you sign the declaration yourself." He slammed the harpy model through the King's face and ripped it back out, the portrait was now faceless. Visegon exited the room.

[Durland and Amany]

Defender
Durland and Amany


The Durlish forces pushed forward, taking street after street after street. Their overwhelming firepower and determination not to be pushed back for a third time made them an effective wall of gunfire. Durlish troops flanked Ephyral soldiers, cornering them and, where possible, taking them prisoner (although this was not, in most cases, an easy task). The forces, while receiving heavy losses, were able to overwhelm Ephyral forces and regained vast portions of the Crown Colony.

"Dear Christ, look!" The soldiers had just noticed that Government House, the formal residence of the Administrator-General of Gracia, was now in flames. It was a torch, and the entire colony was a bundle of hay. "We must put that fire out!" one commander yelled as he pulled a squad away from the fight into the alleyways of Gracia and forward to the building.

The Durlish flag fly where the troops were - a signal of continued Durlish sovereignty over the Crown Colony. Body after body after body lay upon the blood-soaked ground, a nasty reminder of the costs of war and jingoistic expansionism and nationalism. These are the sons, brothers, fathers and nephews of innocent people, who have been forced to face such consequences.

The troops began to continue to move forward, still facing extremely hard attackers in the form of desperate Ephyral troops. One Durl after another was being cut to shreds by powerful Ephyral rounds, ripping through their skin and bone and forcing them to a painful freefall to the ground. Despite hard combat, they were almost victorious.

Marfont Hall, Alderrden

A delegation of civil servants marched formally into the office of the First Minister, who was sitting on the sofa and watching television (the DBC evening news). They moved in quickly and flanked him, getting his immediate attention. "Mr First Minister...", one of them said in a formal manner, "... we have just received word from Gracia that the colony is almost taken by security forces. We feel that we are in a position to assume that the conflict is won". Their faces did not show a hint of happiness, despite the good news.

The First Minister got up, with a great grin on his face. "I must go to the King..." he began, "and tell him the wonderful news!" The civil servants looked at each other, before the 'leader' continued, "His Royal Majesty has already requested your audience at the palace, urgently". The First Minister's grin suddenly disappeared...

[The Land of the Ephyral]

Aggressor
Land of the Ephyral

Alyrya was sat at her seat around the table, flanked by her Sovereign Honour Guard as she read the letter for the fifth time. Gathered around the table was the entirety of the Spheric Council, gathered to discuss the next phase in the war. "Visegon has been forced to pull back into East Iberia. The 3rd Shock Legion is stationed there, but he hasn't written what he plans to do with them. Durlish forces have all but won in Gibraltar, several remaining squads of soldiers continue to hold out, but there are nowhere near enough to take the region." Alyrya put down the paper and assessed the military wing of the Council. Lords Vaegar and Vilyx, of Military Offence and Defence respectively, and Lady Saenys of Military Strategy were on her left. All three looked grim at the situation. "Can we re-take the land?"

"It would not be impossible, but very costly and reckless to pursue an offensive course at current." Lord Vaegar stated. "The Durlish have just under a thousand men, more than enough to repel an assault from ten times that number if positioned right."

"A direct offensive would not work at this point." Lady Saenys interjected. "At the moment the only thing we can do is wait them out. I suggest we attempt to break their naval forces. We control the Strait to the west of Gibraltar, and the Byzantines have kicked the Durlish from Cyprus, leaving only Malta, which isn't a threat on its own. With naval supremacy against the Durlish in the Mediterranean, we could blockade the Strait from relief forces attempting to arrive from their homeland and prevent supplies from reaching Gibraltar."

"We want to rule Gibraltar not destroy it. If we starve the Durls to death who do we rule over?" Vaegar objected.

"Ephyral who move to the area. Iberians seeking new land, the Durlish dogs are stubborn, they'd never accept our rule."

"Enough of this, before we can rule Gibraltar we need to own it." Alyrya silenced them. "Visegon is at their northern border, if as you say, we could blockade Gibraltar and the Strait, we might be able to force them into submission. But you can guarantee that right now they're formulating a plan to counter this. This is the most predictable move." She took a breath and outlined her own plan. "I think we should do nothing. Let the Durlish think they've actually won. Visegon will pull back from the border, and we'll watch the Durl's from afar. If they appear to continue hostile preparations, we'll go with your plan Saenys, if not, we'll adapt from there."

"As you say, your Majesty."

All of them rose. Most of the Council had remained silent, but their presence was necessary to make the decision at all. "Return to your duties. I want word sent to Visegon he is to stand down until further notice. Keep Ephyral warships from striking at the Durls. Barring that, bring all reports of Durlish military activity to me."

She remained as the Council left. When the door closed she let out a seething hiss of anger that she'd only barely suppressed. Gibraltar is OURS! She thought, and as if to re-assure herself, spoke it aloud. Alyrya fell back into her seat and waved away her Sovereign Honour Guard. "Visegon I asked you to hold Gibraltar... and now we have to take it all over again..."

[Durland and Amany]

Defender
Durland and Amany


The Durlish flag slowly progressed through the narrow streets of Gracia, steadily following the Durlish forces as they lay siege at Ephyral attackers, who had buried themselves in defensive positions throughout the colony. Over seven-hundred troops of the Durlish Crown crowded through the small alleyways and fired constantly at the Ephyral troops, who's blood now stained the walls and floors of buildings and the streets.

Suddenly, the gunfire stopped; there was no more Ephyral attack. The Durlish forces continued to fire upon Ephyral positions, until they were ordered to stop by their commanders. Why had the Ephyral troops just, simply, stopped firing? The Durlish troops moved swiftly to position themselves in order to avoid any possible new attack. Then, they heard movement from a local post office. The doors opened, and a pear of white underwear was waved, from a plank of wood, into the street. From that came several Ephyral troops, with their arms up high in surrender.

This was replicated throughout the Crown Colony; Ephyral troops surrendered in mass numbers. Commanders and the commanded alike. Soon, the number of Ephyral attackers was zero. The conflict was over.

Durlish troops secured important bases of naval and air attack and moved to the border. It was void of movement; the Ephyral forces had made a retreat. Why? The Durlish troops secured the border and placed armoured artillery there to deter a further attack. Government House, which had been set alight, had been tackled by Durlish troops to remove the blaze, but it was still burning, despite having several tonnes of water sprayed onto it. Soon, however, it came under control.

The Durlish flag was raised in the centre of Gracia, in a local square, and the national anthem played as it rose above the colony. The Ephyral flag was torn down and burned, with the troops yelling in joy and excitement. The Durls had won.