NATION

PASSWORD

The Crusade (TFL members only)

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
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The Church of Starry Wisdom
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Compulsory Consumerist State

The Crusade (TFL members only)

Postby The Church of Starry Wisdom » Mon Oct 17, 2016 7:21 pm

Prologue


A new dawn fell upon the facility, it's construction obviously benefiting from military industrial complex sourcing. A series of low walls and towers, the sound of something impacting against the earth, the heavy resonations echoing out of the valley. A fell voice echoed upon the severe and somber wind, a tongue not spoken aloud since days of yore. On the ground before the speaker, of whom's arms were outstretched, one hand possessing a book, the other some sort of slender icon or artifact, letters or perhaps hieroglyphs glowed an off yellow hue.

The figure, draped in the dark colours of the Order of Night, a collection of cleric's trained in the art thaumaturgy, held The Book of Eibon. Strangest and rarest of occult forgotten volumes, it is said to have come down through a series of manifold translations from a prehistoric original written in the lost language of Hyperborea. In the other hand,his right, the artifact being the Seal of R'Lyeh.

As the storm above began to whip itself into a frenzy, funneling down and into the tear itself, the cleric brought both his hands together and a white light danced from it and towards a set of five stone arches at the edges of the circle of glowing writing, and the base below the tear. A grinding sound echoed forth, and the stone moved, following a long since forgotten path, activated by a mechanism unseen. As each tip of the talon like arches came close to one other, the light from the cleric became a solid, burning white ball between the five points.

The brightness reached out, drawing from the searchlights, causing sparks as the sets burnt out, bulbs popped and then silence. The light was gone, but something was making noise. As emergency lights activated, and fresh spotlights, some from nearby vehicles came online, a tangible presence could be felt. Something ancient and evil was coming to life here, bit by bit being unleashed into the mortal realm from it's long prison. A scion of the Sleeping Old One, a goddess of the forest, and as horrible as the creature that she both served and was of. Flesh like vines, as thick as a man's body, black as the darkest night, seeped from the portal and into the air as the prison opened more and more.

The wind stirred banners that hung about the entry into another realm, each bore the emblem of a black hand, upright and thin, upon red circle, it upon dark grey background. Scientists and soldiers alike stood there, witness to the approaching terror, the summoned entity that loomed above. The haze of spotlights stun the area and the eyes, while robed members of the church swayed urns upon chains, the white and black misty smoke dancing across the air. The speaker continued his chants, now joined by others of that order, and it seemed to become a bellow, or a roar of sorts.

Awake now, the creature revealed as it pulled itself free of the prison, it also became aware of the life below it, and the chanting. So these were the cultists of the Old One, The Great Sleeper, and she, the great Lythalia, Goddess of the Forest, thought, perhaps they shall serve at my whim instead. There, hanging in the sky for a moment, it brought all of those present to it's command. As the winds subsided and the clouds dissipated, so to did the ancient evil. It's form transcended it's original appearance, and in it's place, atop a throne of burnt silver, a woman resided. Her eyes glowed an orange hue, and the bronze flesh of her body gleamed as if a second sun.

She rose from this ancient seat, transported upon one of the many vehicles, and moved with purpose to the one officer that had yet to break before her. Intrigued as she could spy the artifacts in those hands, and she knew instantly a magister of some sort had summoned her, freed her, from the abyss. Path taken between the two furthermost pillars of modern stone, built by builders that she knew not, beyond the grasp of what might have been in days of her past. Such was the tale of the modern time, man had come far, to be ruled by her master when he awoke, or at least by her until then.

As the Scion came closer, the magister officer in question would come more into detail. Slender of build, human in species, white hair cropped close to the scalp and with eyes of light blue. Trained, ingrained, brained to be a zealot, fervor kept just behind the calm mask of his face. His attire consisted of a long leather like robe, clasped to the far right of his chest from heart to shin in silver straps. A scalp and neck cover made to look like bones rested further, with wrists, palms, and fingers borne in metal of the same. Fingers wrapped with rings that led to talons that absently clicked against one another as he offered a nod of head at times to the female form directly before him.

So came Lythalia, to inspect this somber individual. She noted a bit out of surprise, that this was not a female. Atypically her summoners were of the various witches covens, sorceresses and so on. Rare indeed this pleasure. This had to be from his closeness to the prison as she escaped, she surmised. She noted that his skin was pale, nearly that of a light grey as if the flesh tone had been sucked right out of his body. A glance also paid to the other mortals, they all wore the same garb, and they carried..weapons of some sort she was sure of it. Were these to be hers? Summoned for the purpose to rule?

Those wickedly taloned fingers clasped each other and were placed behind at lower back. A sense of inner peace could be found in this vale, though at what cost he wondered. When stepping beyond this oasis of earth and field, one became jaded at the sights that sprung into view. The haughty nobles, the suffering serfdom, and the so called honorable armies clashing for false prophets and resources. It was true, force would be necessary to rid these worlds of this plague, to enjoy this peace, to remember it and spread it once the will of the Ascended was passed to all.Goddess, we are at your command, say the word, and the Purifiers shall begin to cleanse this world.

Her tactical mindset was set to the question posed to her by the magister-officer, as to when the holy war would begin to pass, and this in it's state would become but a memory. A foggy memory though irked her, for her last was a thousand years ago, during the time of Potsaph the Fierce. No one knew of this person now, not these mortals, nor the leadership that dared to bring her forth.

They were the first to be wiped away, she would rule from the throne and let these mortals draw the world into chaos once more. A slow and languid settling down upon the throne, watching as her temple disgorged troops clad in that dull black and grey, their footsteps creating a thunder that was only drowned out by the chariots in the sky. Eyes widened a moment as she laughed, the sky filled with warships of a kind she'd never seen before. As boring a hue as the uniforms they so wore, vessels of death blotted out the sun for a time as they slid across the heaven's.

So it would begin, the world's purification...
Last edited by The Church of Starry Wisdom on Sat Oct 22, 2016 12:04 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Celtlan
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Founded: Apr 02, 2013
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Celtlan » Sun Oct 23, 2016 3:31 pm

Durida’s Grove, Annasaree Forest

The soft light of the morning sun brighened the lush virescent meadow. Small flowers of every color sporadically could be seen throughout the meadow as well while huge trees surrounded it, providing a cooling shade around the fringes of the lea. Towards the center of the field sat a ring of dogwood trees around a small clear spring.

It was here that the meadow’s primary resident stood with her apprentice. Durida was one of the Kingdom’s many druids, heand like the other druids of the realm she mostly kept to herself, occasionally though she would take on an apprentice, usually a lost soul who felt the call of the wilderness. Often they came from troubled backgrounds of different sorts, most of them looking for an inner peace that the Kingdom’s vast wilderness provided along with solitude and safety.

Daniel, her newest apprentice was one of those troubled souls, having traveled from across the sea from the inner cities in Idoa, his past a mystery and not one he talked about much like the others Durida had taken under her wing. Deep in meditation both sat across from each other with the spring in between their motionless bodies. After several minutes of this Durida was the first too open her eyes. Looking across the spring her eyes looked over the adolescent in front of her. She guessed his age somewhere between sixteen and eighteen his disheveled sandy hair had grown long in the time he had been there and his skin taking on the same weathered appearance her own had albeit less leathery than her own.

His eyelids opened up revealing bright blue eyes that looked upon his mentor questioningly.

“And what will you be teaching me today madam.” asked the young apprentice of his master as he stood up.

A smile crossed the older woman’s face as she too stood up and brushed the grass and dirt from her trousers. She was pleased with how eager the young man was to learn, his mind practically devouring any lesson she taught him, his appetite for knowledge seemingly insatiable.

“Today you will be tested on what I have taught you over the last month, you will go into the forest and bring me back the ingredients needed to heal a burn, a cut, and nas…”

Durida didn’t finish her sentence when she felt the sickness wash over her. Her stomach felt as if something had grabbed ahold of it and twisted. Stars clouded her vision as well and she became dizzy. Unable to stand she fell to her knees as the sick feeling washed over her. Unable to keep her breakfast in she wretched on the ground in front of her.

“What’s the matter, what do you need.’ Daniel asked, the worry in his voice clearly discernable by Durida even in her sickened state. As the sickness seemed to fade away the druid opened her eyes and the first thing that caught her vision was a small black cloud of ichor that violated the purity of her grove’s spring.

Standing up she whispered a few words in a language known only by the masters of the druidic arts.

“Come we must make a trip to see the Comhairle Flatha with haste, grab what essentials you need we leave in five minutes.” said Durida as she turned towards the treeline to the north and began a swift walk towards it. Seconds later she was within the trees, her direction of travel taking her towards a non-descript wooden building. Walking around to the opening in the building she stepped inside and pulled a cover off of an open top SUV that the druid kept for emergencies.

Turning over the ignition the motor fired up and began to purr without issue. Sitting in her seat waiting for Daniel her thoughts drifted off to asking herself what could have made her so sick. Her only answer was that some sort of powerful fiend from the Infernal Realms must have found a way inside the Kingdom and its presence was perverting the natural order of things.

Daniel came quickly inside the shack and tossed his rucksack into the back of the SUV and one jump later was sitting in the passenger seat. Jamming the transmission into reverse Durida mashed the gas pedal and the SUV flew out of the shack in reverse. Eventually the SUV made it to a small dirt road and she stopped and put the SUV in first gear and again she pressed the pedal to the floor and the SUV lurched forward as the power from the engine reached the tires kicking up twin tails of dirt as the SUV sped down the dirt rode away from the druid’s sanctuary.


*******************************************

Comhairle Flatha, Taeurndale

Durida made her way through the throng of people and creatures that had assembled outside the Comhairle Flatha within the capital of Taeurndale. Taeurndale paled in size when compared to other nation’s capitals, this being due too the nature of the Kingdom’s citizenry who mostly lived lives of solitude in the Kingdom’s huge tracts of wilderness. What she lacked in size however she made up for in beauty. The buildings in the capital were either grown from enormous oak trees, a testament to the magic of the druids and dryads that created the buildings, or hewn from a creamy colored marble, a task accomplished by the Kingdom’s gnomish residents. The architecture in the capital a blend of rustic and utilitarian, both styles displaying a sense of pride from their respective builders.

Daniel was amazed not by the architecture though, his focus was captured by the other denizens of the Kingdom he had begun to call home. Centaurs, fairies, wiccan, nymphs, gnomes, and countless other types of fantastical beings that called the woods of the Kingdom home were gathering outside the Comhairle Flatha. Numerous Rangers, the protectors and law of the Kingdom, in their distinct olive armor stood outside the large arena where the crowd gathered around and looked down below. Gently pushing their way through Durida and Daniel finally made it to the edge where they were able to look down inside. Fear clamored up inside of Daniel’s throat as he was able to finally see who was within the arena. Seated on large platforms arranged in a circle sat the Lords and Ladies of the Council, the leaders of the KIngdom of Celtlan. Hardly ever did these five meet generally only in times of great peril or stress for the Kingdom, these five had ruled over their respective realms for several millenia.

Dragons? whispered Daniel in a bewildered tone to his master.

“Yes, it is one of the most closely guarded secrets of the Kingdom,.” responded Durida before she hushed her apprentice and strained her ears so she could hear the conversation already started down below.

“That is why we must gather an army at once before we find the source of this perversion so that we may crush it without remorse or mercy.” spoke the ebony scaled dragon, along his back between his wings ran a long row of spikes that traveled from the back of his head down to the tip of his tail. The distinct features identified him as Visalth, Lord of the Thorns. The thorn dragons realm resided along the entire southern borders of the Kingdom in the form of huge briar patches which were nearly impenetrable against the troll and ogre kingdoms which resided to south. Occasionally a raiding party would slip through the briars in an attempt to capture slaves or food, most did not last long against the Thorn Lord’s merciless dryads that patrolled the border.

“You can’t possibly think we would be able to summon a force and then send it against whatever has caused this trouble do you?” responded Seddrinth, Lady of the Fey, her light lavender scales shimmering as she shuffled her feet and her light gossamer wings fluttering a little as the fairy dragon became disturbed at the thoughts of violence.

“What we need to do is bolster our defenses, the gnomes along with the other earth creatures can begin construction at once.” replied Herenth Lord of the Earth, huge by even earth dragon standards the dark copper color scaled dragon dwarfed the others in sheer size and his booming voice carried across the capital.

“Why should we do anything at all, we five along with the help of the other more powerful denizens of the Kingdom are more than capable of handling whatever transgression this so called power is.” spoke Loriatha, Lady of the Rivers. Rising to her full height, her azure scales sparkled in the high noon sun that shone down on the arena.

“You would all be content with sticking your heads in the sand until whatever dark forces this power accumulates and begin a campaign of chaos across the lands. No I will not stand idly by and do nothing as you are perfectly happy to do, as you all have done for centuries while me and my people defend your peace and solitude.” growled the thorn dragon

At this moment the final dragon spoke. Rallinth King of the Forest and the one the others generally deferred to. His emerald scales and features marked him as a forest dragon and his color slightly dulled due to his incredibly old age, old even amongst the dragon who measured their lives in millenia.

“We are all well aware and appreciative of the sacrifices you and your people make Lord Visalth. Countless statues dedicated to the Heroes of the Briar are known throughout the forest because of our reverence and respect for what you and yours do everyday.” said the King.

“This power you all speak of is however no mere ragtag group of ogre raiders. Even a powerful fiend would be a welcome substitute compared to the power that now infests our world. I am unfortunately the bearer of terrible news directly from Druantia herself.”

Saddened eyes from the Forest King looked over the other members of the Council who shuffled nervously at the words of Rallinth.

“Lythalia has been summoned I’m afraid to inform you all.” Rallinth said somberly as whispers took ahold of the crowd that had grown even larger around the arena.

“Impossible!” roared the voice of Visalth “No one would be so foolish as to summon the key to the Primordial Gods.”

“I am afraid too inform you that there is indeed a country full of these fools that wish to bring back the terrible rule of those Elder Gods.” said Rallinth

“I must say then that I agree with The Lord of Thorns my liege, war is likely to be our only recourse in this matter if we wish to put this atrocity back into it’s box.” said Loriatha

“No, I can not in good consciousness send so many of our people off to the deaths, we are not equipped or prepared for what would likely be a war of attrition against these cultists, we simply do not have the capability.” said Rallinth.

“Then what do you propose we do?” asked Seddrinth in her almost musical voice. “We can not simply do nothing, can we inform any of the others in our region, surely they know how perilous the summoning of Lythalia is and what it foretells for the future of the world.”

“Aye, I have already dispatched envoys to those other nations we are on friendlier terms with, however it will still take time for them too muster their strength in order to properly launch an assault on these cultists. We however will be more swiftly acting, General Ashnavar has already begun handpicking an entire battalion from amongst the Rangers for an elite strike force tasked with the assassination of Lythalia, and we will be securing the military services of the mercenaries of Takhisia to assist our Rangers in their endeavor, meanwhile we here at home unfortunately will begin preparations for in case the Rangers should fail.” Rallinth said and his eyes traveled upwards towards the crowd that had surrounded the arena. “I am truly sorry but it seems our simple lives of peace and solitude are at an end for now.”
*****************************************

To: Colonel Valkerian, Global Strategies and Deployment Officer, Ministry of Foreign Services
From: Hanaria, Prime Druid of the Kingdom of Celtlan
Encryption Level: Hand Delivered

Greetings from the Kingdom of Celtlan

I realize our two nations have had little to no interaction in the past but I have the unfortunateness of being the one to inform you of the terrible events that have unfolded within The Forgotten Lands and because of this the Kingdom has been forced to action and is desperately in need of the military services of Takhisia. An ancient and dark power has been summoned and as such we are now forced into action and in need of your assistance and while the Kingdom does utilise the traditional methods of monetary transaction we do however have other means of paying for your services in this matter. If you agree in a fortnight a battalion of Rangers will secure transportation to a Takhisian city of your choosing with payment and more information as I am uneasy with disseminating that information via a messenger. As a token of our appreciation in you hearing us out on the manner we have sent our messenger with several gifts for you as well. Furthermore we would appreciate your discretion in this matter for now until we can fully determine how deep this infestation is.

Thank you for your time and consideration
Last edited by Celtlan on Mon Oct 24, 2016 3:08 am, edited 4 times in total.

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Takhisia
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Founded: May 15, 2006
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Takhisia » Sat Nov 05, 2016 11:36 pm

Citadel of Coin
Ministry of Foreign Services
Global Strategies and Deployment Administration


There was a smart rapping of knuckles upon the door, followed by a gravely gruff " uhn..", which was the universal sign of entry to be expected from the veteran officer residing within. Twisting the brass knob, and pushing the door open allowed for the entry of Major Tomas Kuril. In his right hand was a binder filled with missives, but only one was fished from it's prison and set before the somber individual at the desk before him. Colonel Valkerian, Sir. We've received a request for deployment contract to the Kingdom of Celtlan. I thought that perhaps since the Fourth Vanguard is now requesting deployment that this would be right up their alleyway.

Sigmus Valkerian, the career officer of the Northern Takhisian Naval Services, and by default, that of the Kmuno yht Lueh, which loosely translated, meant Glory and Coin. An old term from days of yore to describe the Northerners and their sellsword ways. He gave the missive a good once over, noting the alternative payment and meeting in a pre-arranged city to pick up a contingent of soldiery from the aforementioned kingdom. After a moment, he leaned back in his chair and offered a faint nod of that nearly bald head of his. The grey hair illuminated in the electric haze of the fluorescent lighting. I'll approve this, and make sure Commodore Luken receives notice in fair order Major Kuril. The stamp of approval given in several places along the form of deployment before handing it back to the officer before him.

Tomas stood stiffly and saluted with his left hand coming to temple before he received the order of dismissal. Pivoting upon left heel, he marched out of the office with a purpose, as the door closed behind him. He stopped by the records and business administration to process the now approved of deployment orders, getting a copy of his DO-2, DO-3, and DIFL-2 paperwork of which had to be signed, dated, stamped and so on before he could head to the control tower and officers deployment docks.

The trip to the docks was a short one, but it meant riding with all of the other employee's and service personnel. The trolley's were packed around midday and as luck would have it, it was now just cresting the time when everyone and their mothers was to be out and about, heading to the docks or back towards the Citadel of War. Dozens of trams and trolleys littered the sky on lines that crackled with lightening like flares. Jostled into a sardine can of a trolley, he felt the deck plates move now and then as they would slide across the expanse of nothingness. Hundreds of feet below was the harsh earth of the Northern lands, the snow, rock, and ice that stayed year round after round.

As the sun burst through the clouds and gleamed a shine against the smooth brass of the trolley's roof, he pushed himself through the throng and onto the floating partition dock of the naval gateway. Waiting there, as per he'd called ahead, was an officer's tug, ready to take him into the great maw like depths of the NorTak Naval Yard. A group of young sailors were his company, the navigator and the pilot plus two others who were probably linesmen or just security and needing a ride back to the barracks. The schooner itself was little more then a dull bronze hued box with a box and t-crossing span underneath it that housed the ragnite repulsor engine. Like a negative magnet, it kept itself afloat against the magnetic nature of the earth below. Propulsion came in the form of a engine on the rear that pushed forced air out the rear.

He stepped within and documents in an attache case, he settled upon one of the benches nearby, crossing right leg over left and leaning against the thinly padded backrest. The hum of the engine made for a soothing massage as the schooner pulled from the partition dock and headed for the yard. At a fairly fast clip, it wasnt long before the shadows of the yard engulfed them. Ships of the line were housed here, undergoing construction, repair, or updating. Sparks and so forth danced across the heavens as the schooner hurtled towards the center of the shipyards, the Citadel of War looming up, and much like their naval vessels, others wondered how it defied gravity as it did.

The Citadel of War is the strongest part of the naval yard, positioned to be the last line of defense, should the enemy breach the other components of the fortification system. Which would be impressive if they could do so. The fortress is a U-shaped structure built about a central courtyard, being four hundred-twenty metres long, one hundred sixty metres wide, and three hundred four metres tall. It has a complement of sixty eight 6 × 28 cm (11 in) guns on turrets, forty eighty 8 × 15 cm (5.9 in) turret cannons, fifty 20mm phalanx turrets, and forty quad box launcher turrets, capable of firing air to air intercept missiles, and twenty four dual box launchers firing anti-ship torpedoes (Missiles).

Support for the Citadel is also in the form of twelve fighter wings from any one of it's four launching areas. Most aircraft in question are the Kmuno class fighter, although other variants do show up at times. Supporting the fighters and vice versa is also the Citadel vanguard fleet, composed of twenty seven vessels. Ranging from Yoweth class heavy dreadnaughts to that of the Jelduneuic class cruisers. Carriers and destroyers are also in this vanguard and they support the citadel and any fleet that may be scrambled to protect the naval yard.

Tomas felt entirely like an insect as the schooner zipped under one of the massive hulls of a heavy cruiser and shot into the welcoming berth and the lowest point of entry into the Citadel. A maze of ramparts and steps, ladders, elevators and what have you's were all over the place. It was some time before Tomas found himself walking through the foyer of the airship commanders hall, noting it's marble tile flooring and a stair descending to who know's where and, through another set of doors in a screen with translucent leaded glass sidelights and fanlight, a hall; both rooms in beige, cream, and gold. The Small Dining Room similar in decor, with robin's egg blue walls and white-painted trim. From the ceiling hang two crystal chandeliers illuminated the area for him, and those officers at said table. He noted quite a few of the legendary here and present, one or two of whom he did not know, they must be new he thought, and several other up and coming sorts.

His target, Luken was closest to him, and good fortune was that his second and third were also present. They also appeared to be dressed for deployment, wearing the dark blue officer fatigues rather then the fine dress uniforms the others were wearing. Tomas slowly approached and the others had their eyes on him already, a few monocles as well he noted. Commodore Luken, I have orders for you. Approved of by Colonel Valkerian and the Administrative branches as so noted. He displayed all of the appropriate paperwork, of which his second and third went over immediately.

Luken had just been lazily waiting there, unwilling to get all feathered, cocked, and ruffled for a dinner with what he referred to as a meeting of comrades. No cameras? No upper management? No press? No need to wear the trim and the plush as he saw it. His attention focused however as he saw Tomas approach, the Major brought business wherever he went, and being Mud and Gut's aide, certainly made people aware of him. Colonel Valkerian demanded the best, and it was about time the 4th had their go again.

He glanced at the name of the client and found it offputting he was not familiar with them. A slight glance over towards his counter-part from the 3rd Air Squadron, and captain of the heavy cruiser Feht Chyga (Wind Snake). Gaius, where's Celtlan or whats nearest these sorts? Gaius was often deployed to frontier clients, so he more then anyone would have some idea. The monocle wearing, completely royal navy looking bastard blinked a moment, turned about towards the younger naval officer and looked to be deep in thought. His answer however was firm, having weighed it in his head a bit. You'll want to make port at the township of Akire. It's a frontier port, near the edge of the western reaches, and right on the tippy border to the sea.

Luken groaned inwardly, Akire was also known as a free port, as it straddled the southern lands and their own. Which meant he'd share airspace with the knighthood or the Huukach Taalogekhec Taagelaan, the Southern Takhisian's sellswords outfit. However he nodded his head and thought a moment.Gaius, come with us, we're going on a grand adventure. Plus you look bored, surely the Colonel will go for it, right Tomas?

Tomas was already on his phone, and with a look of faint surprise then a chuckle from Gaius as a sure why the hell not sort of response, the voice of the Colonel could well be discerned over the speaker of which was set to conference room loud.Commodore Luken, Admiral Gaius Frener, I approve of the 4th and the 3rd squadrons operating in a joint venture for our new client. As per rank and file is to be followed, Admiral Frener will be the lead officer, Commodore Luken shall be joint fleet second. Dismissed.

Luken grinned, having just escaped actual paperwork duty and saluted Gaius who looked a bit annoyed now. Young pup, one of these days.. Then the older man stood up, adorned in the finery of the officers attire and properly saluted Luken who had also come to attention. Well, get to your ship and ready your crews, we leave immediately, set your sail to Akire. Major Tomas, if you would be so kind as to inform our client of the destination, we shall have a transport ship dock and pluck up this contingent of soldiery.

Tomas nodded and spoke. Of course Admiral, I am already doing so. May the Goddess grant you victory and profit. A salute followed as he sent a response to the client at hand.
To: Hanaria, Prime Druid of the Kingdom of Celtlan
From: Colonel Valkerian, Global Strategies and Deployment Officer, Ministry of Foreign Services
Subject: Arrival and Confirmation

The 3rd and 4th squadrons shall be arriving at the frontier port of Akire in two days time to pick up your soldiery and any emissary you wish to include. From there we shall head towards the nearest position of the targeted enemy and engage in reconnaissance of defenses before engagement. The two squadrons will become known as the 1st Joint Taskforce, and shall comprise ten thousand NorTak legionnaires, with a total vessel allotment of sixty seven ships.
Last edited by Takhisia on Sat Nov 05, 2016 11:37 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Renor Xukuth
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Founded: Oct 03, 2007
Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby Renor Xukuth » Sun Dec 04, 2016 12:17 am

In passing
House Hiendor
Office of the Regent


Kana Hiendor made her way within the modest office of one half of the pair of her favorite members of the family. She noted an ill suited to office life individual seated rather tensely at his desk, as if it were some sort of sentence of shame. Aytep looked like he missed being on the front lines, down in the trenches with his men, and leading the war effort, rather than being here, within speaking distance of the Palace of Shade. She grinned a bit and settled with a lean of left hip to the edge of his desk, allowing a manilla folder to be set before him.

" Interesting news M'lord Regent.." Of which Aytep sighed and told her she didnt have to refer to him as such as he leaned back within the office chair, fingers at the sides of the folder. " Well then cousin, seems those cultists from the diplomatic event have gone and done something rather uncouth." She watched as his interest got the better of him and he opened the folder to show some photographs of black and white. Some were obviously military forces at work, while others were..less obvious as to what they were. Kana continued. " Seems they summoned a primordial elemental key goddess of some sort. She's tuned to a humanoid form, so no powers as far as her presence. As to what she unlocks, well it could be bad for not just those nations nearest, but for all of us. The Cthulhuites obviously intend to raise the Slumbering One." She leaned up a moment to get his response.

There was a steel eyed look in those bluish-greys as he gave such photos a hard examination while responding. " Notify the Duke, and request immediate deployment of my the House army and fleet. Coordinate with the Takhisian Knighthood on training exercises in our territories, and petition the Osea-Yuktobanian's. Ask for Admiral Caritha, she owes me a favor anyways." He handed several written missives made in that short order to Kana who'd been caught somewhat off guard by the ferocity of his response.

" Kana, if these people successfully raise the Old One, our world will burn. Get to it. I will make my way down to the staging area, gathering my regiment for immediate deployment." Kana had gone ramrod straight, saluted, and nearly at a full run dashed from his office towards the communication headquarters several floors down of the building. This would allow her video communication access to the Duke and others as all around her footfalls from booted feet could be heard as officers dashed from their respective dens to wherever they needed to be.

Already on the security monitors, her cousin, was already on the field with several of his closest commanders and he was giving them orders to make ready. She knew for deployment, and this was before the Duke had signed off on it. Her cousin's battle lust had come to the surface and yet he looked on the monitor completely at home, calm, as he directed officers this way and that. She returned to her duty at hand, and managed to get the Duke's attache officer on the vid-com. " It's urgent from the staff command of the 5th regiment, and by way of the Lord Regent Hiendor that a message be conveyed to our Duke."

The attache a striking woman, dark hair, dark skin, eyes of jade that seemed to pierce you, even via the monitor. She replied coolly, even know that Aytep was behind the order. " This is highly irregular, normal communication protocol has been circumvented, however it would appear your timing is fortuitous. Your request is being received and approved by her ladyship." Kana bowed head a bit to the image that appeared, Duchess Seifa's face shown and a smile as the woman before her showed signs of deference. " Dearest Kana, what is so important my dear?"

Kana assumed a polite pose, even with her head held high as she responded. " My Ladyship, we've word and proof that the Cthulhuites had succeeded in summoning a key of flesh. My Lord Regent, your son, has commanded me contact the Duke, as well as to request deployment of the fleet, army and his own regiment." Seifa's soft look vanished in an instant, and that was where Aytep had acquired such a hard stare as Kana inwardly gulped some. " Kana.."

" Yes M'Ladyship? " Kana replied, of which to Seifa responded. " You have your authorization. Tell Aytep he will command, all is at his disposal. May his blades strike true, may he take the head of a beast that shall not come to pass. My word allows such, should any question, you have my blood swear. Do you understand this..?" Of which Kana was quite firm in her acceptance. " It will be noted My Lady of the House."

She hurried from the communication area and onto the controlled chaos of the impromptu staging area, coming up beside Aytep, of whom had already ditched his leisure suit for combat fatigues and the customary stained red beret that rested just so atop his head. He turned to her. " And?" Kana replied. " Your Mother, Lady of the House, gives the blood swear that you shall command all those you desire for this battle, this war to stop the end of it all from happening." Aytep grinned a bit. " Good. Now get those lazy asses out of their barracks and into formation. We're going all in. Aces high."

It's not that we do not love you as a people, we love how your people taste, how they bleed. It's just that you are not our equals and never will be.

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Celtlan
Political Columnist
 
Posts: 5
Founded: Apr 02, 2013
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Celtlan » Sat Dec 10, 2016 12:22 am

The cold wind cut through Brigadier General Osperia’s riding gear, his only warmth coming from the scales of the fire drake that he rode. The half-elf’s keen eyes scanned the huge ‘flock’ of other drakes ridden by rangers of the Kingdom as well. The Dragon Council had worked as quickly as they could and summoned as many of their lesser draconic cousins as they could. While they were still animalistic the drake species were still highly intelligent and a favored mount amongst the Rangers and held in high regard. Azure, emerald, crimson, and charcoal scales glittered across the sky as the multitude of different drake species carried the entire Lightfoot Brigade of Rangers. The Lightfoot Brigade was one of the few named units in the what the Kingdom called an army and it had been around for over a millenia. It was also one of the few units that conducted offensive actions although it had never deployed the entire brigade in it’s entire history.

Osperia was troubled by the whole situation. He had read the reports and knew how dire the circumstances and even with the amount of troops the NorTaks were committing plus the Lightfoot Brigade, he knew most of these Rangers wouldn’t be coming home. Osperia wasn’t even sure if they could or would succeed in banishing this foul abomination.

This mission would be the first ever true test of the whether or not the Lightfoot Brigade and by extension the rest of the Rangers forces of the Kingdom could carry out the will and desires of the Council across the world if it was required for them to overcome the shadowy tendrils of darkness from either the Infernal Realms, the Shadow Planes, or even from a dark and ancient place that causes distress amongst even the gods.

Osperia’s thoughts wandered away from the trials that lay ahead and more to the here and now and more about their destination. He had read the very brief and very thin intelligence dossier that had been hastily compiled about Northern Takhisia. Most of the intelligence had been scraped together had come from online sources that were haphazardly reviewed and vetted, some of it was probably wrong and some of it outdated. Osperia wondered if they were a cold and heartless people whose only loyalty was too getting paid. Even though he was anxious over the coming storm, he still felt a little excited about visiting a new country even if it would only be momentary.

“Sir we approach Akire.” came over the comm in Osperia’s ear.

Osperai squeezed his legs tighter around the drake and leaned forward as the drake angled itself forward towards the flickering lights under the gray sky ahead.

“Land where you can and as soon as you have your gear unloaded release your drake so they can return back home, you are then to assemble into your units until we are informed of where these NorTak’s wish to be.” ordered Osperia over the radio too the soldiers under his charge.

The great flock descended upon the port amongst the air-docks where huge Takihisian ships were berthed. The large draconic creatures landed where they could and their riders quickly unmounted and unstrapped their gear. As soon as they were finished the great beasts took, their empty quickly filled by another drake unloading its rider. Swiftly and efficiently the Lightfoot Brigade dismounted from their mounts. In under thirty minutes the Rangers had assembled into their units after they loaded their gear onto their backs as the last of the drakes flew of into the darkness.

Osperia looked his troops over as they quickly assembled into their units. After they had formed into their groups the Brigadier General turned crisply and stood in front of his command while he waited for the Takhisian commander to show up.

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Takhisia
Civil Servant
 
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Founded: May 15, 2006
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Takhisia » Fri Dec 16, 2016 9:06 pm

The Admiral
Frener commanded a fleet that defended the North Air Routes during the Second Incursion of 1984, in which the Southern Takhisian Imperial Navy attempted to seize vital air routes necessary to the survival of the Northern Takhisian territories. He also commanded a fleet that participated in the now labeled Third Incursion of 1996, in which forces from the Southern territories attempted to forcibly acquire and re-unify the nation into one being. He is often considered one of the best officers naval officers, due to his tactical inventiveness, sense of command, and inspirational leadership.

Gaius Frener was born in Theris, a city within the Northern Territories (now the capital of the independent Takhisian Provisional Territories), on 23 December 1957 the son of Gaius von Frener II, a Vice-Admiral in the Homeguard Naval Services (of which later became the foundation for the Takhisian Naval Service) . On his mother's side he was related to Kaspar Frei, a member of the Naval High Command and Council of the Provisional Territories. Entering the Hyjym Ylytyso (naval academy) in Theris in 1974, Frener became a Lytad on 23 July 1974 officially. He received a commission upon his graduation, taking the status of Meaidahyhd (Frigate Lieutenant, roughly) on 16 April 1979 and took part in the blockade of the Eastern Air Routes from May to August 1980. He was promoted to Caheun Meaidahyhd (Senior Lieutenant) on 16 June 1981 and Caluht Lybdyeh (2nd Captain) on 16 November 1982.

He was given command, in February 1983, of a small Homeguard squadron that sailed to the Northern aero routes to support the very weak reservist naval forces against a superior foe, The Takhisian Knighthood Naval Services, which was blockading a number of provisional northern sky ports. He was engaged by a knighthood squadron commanded by Lady of the Skull, Anya Devalsti, at the Battle of Baris-Wert Sky Ports, in which Frener's flagship, the heavy frigate Brightblade, caught fire in a close-range gunnery fight with the knighthood frigates Chislev and Zivilyn.

Although the action was a tactical defeat for Frener, he achieved his main objective since the knighthood squadron was shortly thereafter recalled back across the border and into the southern territories, lifting the blockade of the Baris and Wert ports. Frener's teletype dispatch was answered by the heads of the Coin and Glory Council with a promotion to the rank of Nayn Ytsenym (Rear Admiral) soon after, and conferring upon him the Order of the Profitable Blade.

Frener was later appointed commander of the Provisional Territories battle fleet on 9 May 1995, shortly before the Second Incursion War against the Southern Territories began. Although the southern fleet was larger and more powerful, Frener decided to engage it after a successful reconnaissance of the knighthood base of Terak on 27 June 1995. With their naval forces suffering defeats against the southern Takhisian fleets during the first week of the war from 20 to 27 June 1995, the southern territories sought a victory over the northern territories navy by sending their fleet against the provisional naval base at HidduK.

Encountering the southern fleet early on the morning of 20 July 1995, Frener sailed straight for the center of the enemy fleet, hoping to ram the ships to make up for his own fleet's lack of firepower. The smoke screen's from the southern ships made visibility very poor, however, and the the first attempt missed the enemy fleet completely. Swinging around, Frener again charged, this time setting two knighthood ships on fire and damaging several more. After Frener's flagship, the Bison's Head, rammed and sank the knighthood frigate Dreamsender, the knighthood fleet retreated the next day. Frener returned in triumph to his base at the Northern Port of Baris. Nevertheless, his victory did not materially affect the outcome of the war, as the Southern alliance with Nocticula ensured an advantageous peace. Frener was immediately promoted, by teletype, to Ytsenym (Admiral).

Flagship and Heavy Cruiser, Feht Chyga (Wind Snake).
The flagship is of the Sturm class, following a year and a half of construction, Feht Chyga was launched on 21 March 2002. Following her fitting out, she was commissioned into the Provisional Navy on 14 July 2003. Like most heavy cruiser lines, the Sturm class mirrors the design standards of ships of the line. The ship has an overall length of 152 metres (498 ft 8 in), a beam of 27.9 metres (91 ft 6 in). She displaces 20,000 tonnes (19,684 long tons) at load and 21,689 tonnes (21,346 long tons) at deep load.

The propulsion consisting of four thaumaturgy vent turbines, each of which is housed in a separate engine-room. The turbines are powered by a twelve valve ragnite reactor, four valves to each turbine. The turbines together combine for a total power output of 3 x 10*11 watts with a never to exceed top thrust speed of nearly 278 m/s (621 mph).

Her armament consisted of twelve 305-millimetre (12 in)/45-caliber K 10 guns in four triple turrets. Her secondary armament consisted of twelve 150-millimetre (5.91 in)/50 K 10 guns mounted in casemates amidships. Eighteen 70-millimetre (3 in)/50 K 10 guns were mounted on open pivots on the upper deck above the casemates. Three quad mounted launchers were mounted on the upper turrets for anti-aircraft duties, as well as fifteen dedicated anti-aircraft CIWS 25mm autocannons. Four 530-millimetre (21 in) anti-skyship torpedo tubes were fitted, one each in the bow, stern and on each broadside; twelve torpedoes were carried.

The main reactive armour belt of Feht Chyga measured 280 millimetres (11 in) thick between the midpoints of the fore and aft barbettes and thinned to 150 millimetres (5.9 in) further towards the bow and stern, but did not reach either the bow or the stern. It was continued to the bow by a small patch of 110–130-millimetre (4–5 in) armour. The upper armour belt had a maximum thickness of 180 millimetres (7.1 in), but it thinned to 110 millimetres (4.3 in) from the forward barbette all the way to the bow. The casemate armour was also 180 millimetres (7.1 in) thick.

The sides of the main gun turrets, barbettes and main conning tower were protected by 280 millimetres (11 in) of armour, except for the turret and conning tower roofs which were 60 to 150 millimetres (2 to 6 in) thick. The thickness of the decks ranged from 30 to 48 millimetres (1 to 2 in) in two layers. The additional protection system consisted of the extension of the double bottom up to the lower edge of the armour belt, with a thin 10-millimetre (0.4 in) plate acting as the outermost bulkhead. It was backed by a torpedo bulkhead that consisted of two layered 25-millimetre plates.

Towards the rear of the ship and between it's to main vents and propellers, lay a fast back hanger. This style allowed for a single scout or transport to be carried on a rail hook. The hoop rail would be slid down the hook and allow the aircraft to be released safely from the airship. When returning, the aircraft would align itself once more to the beam, the grapple arms acquiring the hoop hook once more and pulling the aircraft back into place. In the case of the Feht Chyga, a single Type 2/N Tovekil (Archer) light bomber/scout resided.

Akire aerospace
-44 Hours Incursion
Holding pattern Delta Zone 2E
Takhisian Expeditionary Combat Force
Flagship and Heavy Cruiser, Feht Chyga (Wind Snake).


Admiral Frener Gaius stood in the center of the third floor of the bridge. He held a regal, noble bearing belonging to an individual who had spent the better part of forty-two years in the Provisional Navy, and as an officer of whom there were few others like him, and as such he was almost always out on patrol, or at the expense of clients. Ending or starting wars for clients at the behest of profit and glory.

The Feht Chyga resided comfortably in it's holding berth for the moment, under the scrutiny no doubt of the southern ships visibly nearby. At the moment however he could not rise to their unspoken challenges, merely content to gather his fleet. Troop transports had already arrived, along with their escorts of light and medium cruisers, destroyers and frigates. Commodore Luken, his second in command of this affair had only just arrived, bringing the remainder of their flock. The commodore's taste in ships suited Frender just fine, even if it was a much older design, sometimes one required a battlewagon, just incase. The medium dreadnought Ryssanrayt (Hammerhead) would suit his purposes just fine.

However there wasnt much time to waste, as the transports began to arrive, he sent word from the communication nest to the foreign regiment waiting to be carried to battle. The ramps were extending one by one as each vaguely brick like vessel could carry quite a few soldiery, and some already were. He'd sent his second in command to greet the leading officer, of which he himself would have gone down to meet, but the demands of juggling the Expeditionary Force were going to be his for the moments until they left and when they again arrived.

The man at the command of the admiral, was that of Kirin Frell. Second in command of the flagship with the rank and status of Nayn Ytsenym (Rear Admiral). He was mid-fifties, yet looked a bit younger than that. Though of low stature and slender build the man's neck, arms, and shoulders were those of a heavy set man. His neck was out of proportion to the rest of him. The strength of his arms and shoulders could hardly be believed, and he had equal use of both hands even to writing with the left as well as with the right. To all this he added a quickness of motion that cannot be described except by saying that he was quicker than chain lightning. Even when calm and unruffled, his gait and all his bodily motions were exactly like those of the panther. Noiseless, sleek, and the perfection of grace yet always giving one the idea that it would be well to keep out of reach of his paws and teeth.

He brought both of his jack booted heels together in a resounding click and offered a faint tilt of his head as his cap resided within the crook of left arm as a sign of respect towards the foreign officer in question. Greetings and good tithings Sir, if you and your command staff will follow me, we shall get your troops boarded and be on our way towards the first point of incursion. He followed up as he stood to the right of the boarding ramp of the flagship, with an add on to the conversation started. Admiral Frener and Commodore Luken are currently composing the fleet, and as such could not be present for your arrival. However..

Again he paused as he continued to walk into the bowels of the ship, passing by bulkhead doors with sailors coming to attention in their dark grey BDU's at the sides of the wall, so as to make a hole for the senior staff officers plowing through towards a lift ready and waiting. He slid within, waiting for the others and once they were also inside the lift. He nodded to the nearby sailor who pulled a lever to the right and two doors closed. There was a thunk, then a ka-thunk sound as the gears began to clunk along and hoisted the elevator up. Through the thin shafts of light shining through, three decks went by before the light turned a brilliant blue shade as they were passing to the left of the massive magnetic-ragnite reactor.

For some the walls might seem like they were closing in, as the magnetic field took some time getting used to, and then it was gone as four more decks slid by until the box came to rest on it's destination. The twin doors opened, one going up, the other going low. A brief moment in a corridor, and then the command and control of the main mast conning tower.We've arrived good sirs, he spoke, addressing the command staff of the foreign soldiery and since the lift had gone to the third level of the bridge, they would be on and near the senior command staff which included the Admiral of whom was conversing via a video-screen with the fleet second, Commodore Luken.

The Command and Control of the heavy cruiser airship however was unlike anything the visitors had probably been in before. There was a low bridge that housed light up map tables, with computer aided images of terrain and so forth. Navigation was on a raised platform section overlooking this lower area, and above that was the observation, communication section of which they were all currently on. He coughed a bit to get the Admiral's attention before saluting and standing to the right, to give a full view of their guests. Sir, I introduce Brigadier General Osperia, the representative of our client, and leader of the force that we are currently loading into transport vessels.

Admiral Frener held the look of a Northerner through and through. He bore an almost grey-ish blue hair that was thinly cropped atop head. His eyes were of grey, and he was faintly tanned with a weathered look. Hands held behind his back after the customary salute to the other officer, the dark blue uniform fitted near perfectly to his older frame. Broad shouldered, athletic build if somewhat rounding about the waist, it happened. Welcome aboard, I and my second in command, are nearly done preparing the Expeditionary Force for travel. We estimate that it will take twenty-eight hours to arrive at the first incursion spot into Cultist territorial aerospace.
Last edited by Takhisia on Sat Dec 31, 2016 1:48 am, edited 2 times in total.

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The Batorys
Senator
 
Posts: 4997
Founded: Oct 12, 2009
Iron Fist Socialists

Postby The Batorys » Wed Jan 04, 2017 12:36 am

Five riders tore through the chill evening air. The scene upon the plains could have been at any time of the last few thousand years... bar that they rode upon off-road motorcycles, yet weather-cloaks flapped in the wind as if phantoms from millennia prior. Their destination grew larger upon the horizon, an odd mountainous formation, like many that stood out on the plain. Peoples over the centuries had long attributed spiritual power to such places, and the fact that it was their destination only confirmed the worst suspicions Roka Darvul had about the trail they'd been chasing for too long now. For so long it had felt like they were chasing their own tail. Now, in hindsight it seemed so obvious. She wondered if the new woman would be up to the task, if she'd choke under pressure, or worse, crack and do something impulsive. The file had described her as somewhat of a loose cannon, or loose knife, actually. And she wouldn't take off that damn belt of severed phalli. Effective in combat and a veteran of several campaigns, though.

Giggles grinned. Her first real field mission as a Dragon's Claw. She'd been embedded for quite a while, only now called up, and for a mission with Left Fang. It had surprised the light infantrywoman that the older Dragon's Claw, a whispered legend among the secretive organization's members, was still active. Riding on the other side of the formation, even now. Not at the center, as that would be far too predictable for possible snipers. Their counter hadn't sounded the alarm, so it would seem that there was no danger of that.

In fact, as they drew near, there appeared to be no one at the entrance. Uqmar, at the center, was the first parked, and crouched behind the bike, gun leveled on the entrance. The others did the same thing.

Slowly the other four edged towards the entrance, drawing weapons. The wind picked up, filling the silence with its howl, and just under it, the flapping of cloaks. They advanced like wraiths. A crack split the face of the rocky wall, the apparent entrance. Archaic carvings decorated either side, some of them wards against those who would defile this temple. They paused, as the Mistress said a blessing before they entered. While this temple had been thought long abandoned, it never hurt to be careful. Especially considering that this particular temple was dedicated to the deity who, in myth, was their order's founder. And in the Batory Empire, myths tended never to be just myths.

"Darjeeling, Giggles, with me" Left Fang hissed. "Uqmar, entrance, Lumi, inside, stay within range of Uqmar."

The tall immigrant from far to the south, the only male of the hand, today, nodded, edged into the entrance and turned his attention outward, rifle at the ready. Lumi followed three in, her long white hair peeking from beneath her cloak. She took down the first resistance they encountered. A priestess, coming silently raging out of the shadow, but she didn't see Lumi, who took her down with a gut punch and a blow to the back of the head. Shortly after, with a nod, Lumi took position in the natural hall, edging into the shadow rather than the strip of moonlight that illuminated patches of the canyon's floor.

Moving silently, the three remaining Dragon's Claw quickly advanced through the twists of the canyon. A number of would-be guards blocked their path, all priestesses. All wearing grey. All carrying knives. "They're not really trying to stop us," Darjeeling whispered to the other two. "Only slow us down."

"Fuck," Roka hissed. "They knew we were coming, they just didn't care." She broke into a run. If these zealots were up to what she suspected, then there was a good chance that for once the vaunted Dragon's Claw had been outplayed. Time was running out.

Both other assassins cursed, following their mistress at a run. They caught up to her paused in the shadows by the entry to a larger chamber, obviously lit by a flickering fire inside. Another incapacitated priestess lay at her feet. The light from the fire seemed odd, even less predictable than would be expected, as if partially obscured to cast extra shadows. Roka leaned back against the rocky wall, edged closer to the boundary of shadow and light, still obscured. She motioned Darjeeling forward to take the lead position.

The other woman crouched, edged around her, and crept to the very edge of the shadow. Moving only the muscles necessary, she withdrew a rod and placed a small object on one end, a wire at the other end leading to a small screen. She slid it forward, ever so slowly, barely above the ground, using it to look about. "Can't make out much," she whispered. "There are numerous standing stones in the chamber. I count at least a dozen in there." Along with the crackling of a fire could be heard droning singing and hissed chanting. "I think they're already well underway in whatever they have planned."

"We need to move," Roka said. She was about to say why, as she now had grown confident that her fears were correct, but a knife thrown from inside the chamber, directly across from them, struck her arm. "Go!" she hissed, and the others rolled into the sanctuary chamber. Apparently their approach had not gone completely unnoticed. Weapons drawn, they attempted to shoot, but bullets ricocheted dangerously off the standing stones. Two priestesses who had been guarding the entry went down, but more closed. Within the standing stones, the ritual seemed to go on uninterrupted.

Knives flashed in the gloom as the targets entered hand to hand combat. While Roka was better than her assailants, the fact that they fought in the dancing style of her order's ancient art disturbed her, and further confirmed her suspicions. Blades tore through her cloak, and skittered across the protective layers beneath. A few slashes and thrusts bit into flesh, making the veteran Dragon's Claw wince. An acolyte caught her wrist and it seemed the end was near as blade neared throat, only for him to crumple, goal unmet, revealing that Darjeeling had ended his life with a shot to the back.

A glance to the other side revealed the new recruit, Giggles, fighting ferociously, though the standing stones obscured the view occasionally, stabbing, slashing, and even biting. How many enemies were there? Apparently the cult of The Knife was nowhere near as dead as anyone had thought. Lumi appeared from the hallway, kicking aside an acolyte and gunning down a priestess before withdrawing her own knives. Roka suspected that this macabre choreography would look beautiful from an outside perspective, given that their opponents fought as they did.

With Lumi reinforcing them, Darjeeling made a run for the inner circle, likely hoping to interrupt the ritual. A second later, she staggered back, clutching at a blade in her gut, falling against one of the standing stones. Roka cursed. Her long knives slid through the body of two more acolytes, before a thrown blade forced her to duck behind a stone for cover. Panting, she sheathed the blades and withdrew a munition. Arming the device, she leapt up, ducking between standing stones just long enough to toss the explosive inside, before rolling to the side. The explosion shook the chamber, eerie tendrils of ethereal fire lancing outward from the inner circle, causing the old agent to widen her eyes in shock. That didn't usually happen.

With the number of acolytes dwindling, the fight turned in favor of the Dragon's Claw, and soon the sounds of fighting died, replaced by groans of the dying. Lumi walked over to the slumped form of Darjeeling, and crouched next to her to get a closer look. Within a second, she sighed, looking back to Roka, shaking her head. It seemed that the other agent wouldn't make it.

Carefully, the three edged to the standing stones and looked into the inner circle. Smoke still obscured things, but there was no movement, only crumbled bodies of priestesses. After a moment, the three stepped inside, looking around. There was a bowl in the center, likely with earth or a crack in the ground at the bottom, filled with blood, which had flowed along a spiral pattern, apparently from each seat. And judging by the posture of the bodies, they had indeed been seated when the munition went off.

Walking to the slouching figure at the seeming "head" position of the circle, the highest raised seat, Roka was startled when what she had assumed was a corpse coughed, opening glinting eyes. A feral grin. "Welcome, Dragon's Claw" the priestess croaked. "Left Fang herself."

Roka's eyes widened. "How did you know that?"

"I'm an admirer of your work. One of our patron's most favored," the dying priestess said, coughing again. "We need not be enemies."

"Not anymore, I suppose, since you're dying," the Darvul looked around at the carnage. "And we stopped your ritual."

The priestess laughed. "Oh, quite the contrary. You're too late."

"What?"!"

"Nothing can stop it now." She continued laughing as she bled out. "Nothing. She will return."

"Why would you do something so reckless?!" Roka hissed, crouching down and taking a fistful of the priestess's cloak. "Do you have any idea what could happen?"

The priestess had a coughing fit. "Had to be done... needed a counter..."

"Ummm..." came Giggles' voice from behind. "Why is it doing that?"

Glancing back, Roka saw that the blood in the bowl was steaming, yet not boiling, seeming to form into a mist, despite looking... cold, somehow.

"What have you done?!" the assassin turned back to the priestess, panic in her voice.

The dying woman gave a groaning sigh. "Only what was necessary..."

Turning to her subordinates, Roka simply said. "Run." They did so.

A laugh came from the dying priestess's mouth. "I hope you look forward to meeting our patron, Left Fang. I certainly do. I wonder what she'll have to say to you, eh little Roka?"

Maniacal laughter filled Roka's ears as she followed her subordinates out of the inner circle as the ground shook, making for the exit.

A deafening THROOM came with a shockwave that sent all three Dragon's claw off their feet, through the air, as what felt like a wave went through them and outward from the altar. Vision rippled. Or was it reality that did so? Light flared as the fire surged, and then was seemingly snuffed out just as darkness took them.
Mallorea and Riva should resign
This is an alternate history version of Callisdrun.
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Havasu
Secretary
 
Posts: 39
Founded: Sep 10, 2013
Father Knows Best State

Postby Havasu » Sun Jan 08, 2017 2:22 pm

(Co-ab post done between myself and Starry, he will be in bold starting line)

While her brother was currently away at a diplomatic meeting, Princess Mara Thorsish Grail had been left in charge of the border fortress of Batlh Hub. It heralded a time when the nation’s landscapes were dotted with small keeps and castles, from the lowliest and humblest of township lords, to the highest peaks of power. Batlh Hub, which meant “ Defending Honor “ in the old high born tongue, set itself within the White Forest, named for the albino trees found within it.

While very much a Princess of the Bloodline and high born nobility, Mara found herself quite a bit more comfortable wearing the uniform of the Jarlguard that served her family and the people that entrusted their futures to them. She had attended the Havani Military Academy, graduated with honors and served in the 2nd Knight’s Spear Motorized Cavalry, 7th Regiment, 12th Company, 8th Platoon.

Most of her service was border clashes with the Nocians and for a time, the Bremie’s. The latter was especially difficult because she herself did not agree with their reasoning to be there, but kept such thoughts to herself. One could not voice such while wearing the uniform, or the crown. It wasn’t proper, and if such had been done, the Havani could have ended up like the Bremie’s themselves in short order.

Afterwards however, her voice became a thunderous one, and others joined in, urging the recall and civil if not chilly relations with the former colony. There was other threats on the horizon, for one, the Cultists had been far too quiet. As had the Nocians. Something did not bode well when the former repeated border clash nations had taken a break it would seem.

These thoughts collected in her head as she stood within the right most bastion tower, of which a series of monitors and so forth linked to cameras and what not that tracked the border. Beyond Batlh Hub, extending for about forty kilometers and flanked by the White Forest all the way, was the demilitarized zone of the border with the Cultists. Five kilometers on either side was a land of barbed wire, mines, and signs. Beyond that, and the fifteen kilometer range, was the beginning of the defense zone on the Havani side. Turreted pillboxes, garrison stations, artillery, and so on. It crept upwards in mobilization and defensive armaments the further one came.

The fortress of Batlh Hub sat as the final obstacle from the border, the layout is reminiscent of a typical castle with a keep, corner towers, and defended by a moat. Built in Renaissance style, the internal layout is an early example of the Havani and Nocian style of grouping rooms into self-contained suites, a departure from the medieval style of corridor rooms.

The massive fortress is composed of a central keep with four immense bastion towers at the corners. The keep also forms part of the front wall of a larger compound with two more large towers. Bases for a possible further two towers are found at the rear, but these were never developed, and remain the same height as the wall. The fortress features four hundred-forty rooms, two hundred-eighty two fireplaces, sixteen elevators and eighty four staircases. Four rectangular vaulted hallways on each floor form a cross-shape.

The fortress was intended to provide any form of defense from enemies coming across the border; consequently the walls, towers and partial moat were made at the time to resist cannon fire, and through the ages were updated concerning modern weaponry. Some elements of the architecture, open windows, loggia, and a vast outdoor area at the top, borrowed from the Nocian Renaissance architecture, are less practical in cold and damp northern Havasu.

The fortress has a range of defensive armaments. The bastion towers for example are home to surface to air quad launchers, while the interior keep has several acquired Lyran Sky Guardian units from Rhydin. The walls have mounted spotlights and heavy machineguns, and twenty-millimeter cannon. The grounds outside have heavier anti-aircraft cannon, artillery pieces and armored vehicles in bunkered formations. The threat of an airship attack having been researched quite thoroughly.

A contingent of the Jarlguard serve as its military personnel, and the troop number is roughly twelve-hundred soldiers. Four hundred and eighty serve the interior, while the rest are sprinkled across the defensive fortifications about and before the fortress itself.

Had just begun to nurse the coffee mug in left hand when the border alarms had started going off. The ahoooga sounds filled the interior of the fortress as well as echoing all the way to the border itself. Footfalls, heavy, everywhere as soldiery were on the move. Caught her mug as she almost dropped it and turned about to see a red faced Hamil. The Captain at Arms, and her treasured subordinate. Seeing him as such was especially worrying because Captain Hamil had pretty much more combat experience than any of the staff present by at least a decade. “ What..what is it Captain?”

“ Major…” He paused, that was her rank after all. “ Princess..” Now it was really serious. “ The cultists..they are passing the border in airships!” Mara laid her right hand on his shoulder, and squeezed a bit firmly. “ Hamil, calm yourself..how many?” The captain looked up and slowly exhaled before he responded, having gained a bit of his nerve back but still highly anxious. “ My Lady, they come in at least sixty ships, and thousands of troops. By reports from the border, it’s the Black August Vanguard.”

She shivered a bit, turned and collected herself even as she thought of her command, and the soldiery in it. A bit shaken was her voice but she steeled herself as much as she could. “ Get the soldiery to their stations, send word to my father in the capitol, and ask for reinforcements from anywhere that you can!” Hamil to his credit found the fire again, and was on it, dashing from the lookout tower to the fire and control area of the fortress. Mara sighed inwardly and then followed, that’s where she should be after all.

8th of January
Havani Border
+40 minutes incursion


The airships were of Osea-Yukotbanian make, and bore not only the emblems of the Black August Vanguard, of which were known to be the most ruthless of the Cultists soldiers, but also that of the Order of Night, which meant the true occultists and the thaumaturgy clerical branch of the main Church.

The flagship lay within the center of the fleet, arranged in a battle formation that the manufacturers of these particular craft also utilized. It was a diamond arrangement, in which each formation connected to another and another. Allowing for clear fields of fire and defense. Fighters and troop landers could pass through the center under the cover of the fleet. This fleet of sixty was comprised of cruisers, heavy cruisers, and several dreadnoughts of the line.

The flagship being of the arytiss (Warrior) Dreadnaught class. The vessel was more armored, and much larger than anything previously used by the Church. Scion and now property of Lythelia, Demitri Glava, stood upon the bridge. He revelled in this military technology, though he kept such emotions at a base level, lest they be detected. On the burnt golden throne directly behind him, lay the summoned creature that would rule all the lands of the Cultists eventually, but for now was to oversee the military operation at hand.

The goal was to penetrate the border, bypass and or destroy the fortress of Batlh Hub and reach a deep storage facility about sixty kilometers into the Havani mountains. It was there an artifact was being held, the Crown of Lythelia no less. It would give his mistress the clout and power to sway the hardliners of the main Church, and by extension, all the lands that served those banners.

From his position upon the bridge, Demitri had a broad view of the battlescape, via the holographic projections being displayed as the wind whipped and howled outside of the airship. He observed as fighters were being deployed, hurtling towards points in the fleet as scouts and defense. Angry black puffs of smoke were all around now, as the fire from the earth became a thing of beauty. Zipping tracers and belches of fire danced about them, and they returned fire.

The bow and port to starboard weapons consisting of four 203 mm/L53 (8 in) guns of 25 tonnes each and fitted in triplet style in Ansaldo style turrets slowly maneuvered into place and on the Scion's command with a nod of his head and famous words to the gunnery officer. " You may fire when ready commander."

Soon enough the reverberations through the flagship could be felt as the big guns fired. At the current altitude of a thousand meters, it was rather uncouth, and the scion was somewhat reminded of what he’d seen of footage from Karthay, as to when the Takhisians had done so in combat. Also, the many support guns on the dreadnought began to also fire, streaming death and tracers towards the earth.

As soon as the flagship began to fire, so to did the rest of the fleet. The end result was simply breathtaking, with plumes of fire and light dancing across beneath them. Even Lythelia seemed to be distracted by it as she slinked from her throne to draw talons upon each of his shoulders, her face near and almost pressing against as eyes of gold danced across the displays. “ You give me such joys Scion, I shall savor them so.” She squeezed a bit, and through the leather and the fabric between, it felt to Demitri that it wasn’t even there. As Lythelia retreated he found himself being pulled and placed. Settled before the throne but well within the grip, the ring of her rule still tender to the touch on his neck and collarbone. Almost a tattoo but he was assured it was ever so much more than that.

She spoke then as watching the displays. “ The coming adventure, the rise of my rule, we shall turn this world upon itself and welcome in a new dawn my Scion. Once we have what I desire, we shall purify those doubters of the loyal church, and you will aid me. Yes you will.” Demitri simply nodded a bit, finding the words almost too easily. “ As you desire Mistress, I will do so.”

Of which brought out an almost haughty laugh. “ Of course you will..of course you will Demitri..your mine after all.” Again the squeezing hands, the tempting placement of thighs on either side of him as they both watched ruin and rage fall against the Havani emplacements. Her eyes on the battle, or at least of what he’d seen, his upon the machines and those in them as the fighters began to dive down like vultures. Following behind, troop landers. The blocky shapes falling towards the earth at a rapid pace, guns blazing. Those that had pushed beyond the border were sure to reach them eventually, now that opposition had been left piece meal and in shambles.

He spoke low, and she giggled in response, simply tightening her grip upon his form. “ We’ll run them through, and in the end, the keep that felled Potsaph, shall be felled by us. Blood for blood, brick for brick.”
Last edited by Havasu on Sun Jan 08, 2017 2:24 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Takhisia
Civil Servant
 
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Founded: May 15, 2006
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Takhisia » Mon Feb 06, 2017 1:18 am

Havani Border aerospace
-72 Hours Incursion
Assault Pattern 2E/A
Takhisian Expeditionary Combat Force
Flagship and Heavy Cruiser, Feht Chyga (Wind Snake).


Admiral Frener Gaius took stock of the situation at hand, as the holographic projection showed the current battle at hand. Left hand over his chin, a light grumping sound as glancing towards his subordinate Nayn Ytsenym (Rear Admiral) Frell. " Well, go get those guests of ours, and sound the battle alarm would you." A moment of thought. " Also, alert Luken, let him spearhead our approach." Frell offered a curt nod before heading towards a gaggle of junior officers and so on. There was a sudden dispersion due to Frell's excellent command of fear and force of projection. Gaius continued to stare at the scene being played out as the Cultist aeroforces deployed a wide range of craft for a smash and grab assault.

A bit of a sigh as the battle klaxon's began to howl throughout the ship, and he assumed his position at the head of the bridge, giving out his orders. " Prepare for battle, target Cultist exterior vessels and fire!" The anti-ship cannonry thundered, rumbling as the flagship led the charge with all of it's twelve 305-millimetre (12 in)/45-caliber K 10 guns in four triple turrets belching flame. Following suit, so did the rest of the vanguard, missiles, dumbfire rockets and cannons of varying sizes tore into the Cultist flank. The strike first, and hard method employed by the Takhisian's, especially those of the Northern Territories, worked as it should. Cultist airframes torn apart in the sudden emergence from the wind route and cloud cover.

Enemy forces turning to engage meant less coverage towards their target of assault, the border fortress of the Havani. There was a rumbling not like any sort of cannon, and Gaius surmised properly that Commodore Luken had used the main fleet as a launching pad from which his spearhead would emerge from. Sure a charge of nearly thirty vessels towards the now exposed Cultist flank, and at it's center, the medium dreadnought Ryssanrayt (Hammerhead), captained by Commodore Luken, cannons blazing as it and it's support vessels disgorged their fighter compliments.

Gaius surveyed the initial assault's damage as he could hear Frell giving orders. " Ground control, dispersal pattern delta, drop uneven pods first, followed by even. Launch all armored transports!" A mere nod from Gaius as support to these orders as Frell clasped hands behind back and continued to motivate the bridge crew as the gunnery command officers tracked targets and gave commands to fire at will. A screen of fighters hurtled by the flagship, two wings heading towards the enemy fleet, while the others began to make attack runs towards Cultist ground forces.

At the underside of the transport ships, rounded spheres emerged into place. Hanging like so much tear drop shaped grenades of a sort, packed with a hundred soldiery apiece, they fell from the mothership and plummeted towards the earth below. Right before impact, a deceleration gel would envelope the pod and act as a sort of airbag if you will. Those in the pods would be the mercenary soldiers of the NorTak's, while their guest forces and others would be packed as if sardines into the armored transports. The bigger version of the Takhisian shuttle schooners, boxy and utilitarian in every way, save for the added presence of weaponry, screamed from their roosts towards the ground below.

Not all would make it, pods and shuttles took hits, explosions rocking the fleet as the Cultists regained their composure and while facing two enemies, used a well known and practiced maneuver that Yuktobanian's usually relied upon. The diamond defense position. It afforded a clear defense and offensive formation, although, Gaius and Luken alike were well familiar with it. Gaius's main role was to both suppress enemy advancement and land troops and machines to the battlefront. His formation was thus the top down turtle. Heavy ships shielded the softer vessels, and allowed them to continue usage of heavy weaponry with great ranges of fire.

Luken's strategy thus observed was that of the sphere assault. Circular placement of ships that continually rotated in position, allowing for indirect and direct artillery fire to be given. Through the center would fighter support and lamprey assault schooners that would attach to enemy vessels. Anti-ship destroyers would also be in this area, focus firing their massive 203mm nose cannons, as well as anti-ship torpedo tubes.

As the enemy seemed wholly focused upon the command element, they were to late to realize that the projection of force was rushing to meet them. The collision into the Cultist flank was thus perfect as he watched with some satisfaction as Luken's ship literally tore through the dividing beam of a Muroidian designed airship, collapsing the enemy warship into two halves and continue onwards. " That young man is going to give me a heart attack one day Frell, truly he is wild on the field.."

Frell chuckled a bit as he replied. " Probably why he does it, to shock us old timers Sir." Frell continued. " First transports have offloaded their pods sir, transports are away and second deployment force is enroute under escort." Gaius nodded and continued to observe before responding. " Direct Captain's Edeo and Taufnir to target Cultist forces." Commander Firis, guide the ground leaders to appropriate targets." The young man nodded with a sharp salute and then in the fashion of Frell, issuing orders to those who needed to hear them.

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Celtlan
Political Columnist
 
Posts: 5
Founded: Apr 02, 2013
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Celtlan » Sat Feb 11, 2017 6:29 pm

The sounds and smells were foreign and borderline offensive to the half-elf’s nose and sensitive ears.. The assault on his finely tuned senses made the general feel slightly uneasy. The screech and clang of metal, the smell of engine fumes, and the overall atmosphere coming from the port were unusual to Osperia who was used to the quiet whisper of the forest and the gentle smell of the trees there being what he was familiar with.

His mind drifted off too his youth and the Galad nor- that he would take part of through the vast forests of the Kingdom. The Light runs were a part of every Ranger’s training when they were youths. They were given a map of a trail along the border with Trolloxa, barely enough supplies to survive and a rifle to hunt and defend themselves with, not that bullets were of much use against the trolls that wandered across the border or any of the other fantastical beasts that called the forest their home. They were expected to make their way through the forest in small teams working together to reach their destination and a small window of time to complete their journeys. Osperia remembered traversing rocky crags with barefeet, sprinting through the forest trying to evade detection from a trolkin raiding party, and hiding from a spiked wyvern. His team managed to make it through the route in the sixth best time ever recorded in the history of the Galad nor-.

The successful completion of the route heralded every participant's entry into the Kingdom’s Rangers. The Rangers were unique from other country’s armed forces. They weren’t funded by the “government” of the Kingdom, they weren’t paid, although money for the most part was non-existent in the Kingdom, and the entire force was all volunteer, though every half-elf youth was expected to join by their community. The equipment of the Rangers was dontated by the other communities of the Kingdom. Their armor from the fairies, their weapons from the gnomes as well as whatever supplies were needed from the others. That's not to say the Rangers were the sole fighting force for the Kingdom, they were however the most well known and the best equipped to respond to any threats against the Kingdom.

Osperia was proud of his service in the Rangers and he had defended against several incursions from the ogre kingdom. Osperia especially loathed the brutes that invaded his homeland, his vengeance and brutality against them earned him the nickname Slasnuu, not that anyone ever called him the name to his face. He contemplated the trials ahead for him and his men. Likely they would be drawn into full combat, something the Rangers were never fully intended for. Osperia and the others had always fought from the shadows of the forest against their enemies. Booby-traps and ambushes were their bread and butter and they had effectively used those tactics against innumerable incursions against the assaults of both Trolloxa and Ogrea for over a millenia. Like all things in life the Rangers would have to adapt to the new situation as they had done in the past and likely would have to in the future.

Opseria nodded his head in a slight bow of respect for the Rear Admiral that had addressed him.

“Vedui’ commander, I am General Osperia Ohtathoron” said Osperia. “My men will be loaded shortly and and I will join you on the bridge once I am sure everything is in order.”

A quick turn on his heels and a nod towards his junior commanders was followed by several short barks of commands in elven had the Rangers begin marching into the airships directed by their officers and the Takhisians. After the troops were loaded Osperia followed by his second in command were led by Frell to the bridge of the flagship, which was unlike anything Osperia had had the chance to ever observe, were the fleet commander resided. After being introduced Osperia offered another short bow to the Admiral before speaking.

“Vedui’ Admiral Frener, my men and I are thankful for your military’s assistance in combating the threat that looms upon the horizon, it is my hope that our combined forces will be enough to turn back this tide of evil that has reared it’s ugly misshapen head. My troops and I do not fight conventionally like other forces you are likely familiar with. The best utilization of the Rangers will be to drop us behind the enemy and into their supply lines were we can attack their reserves and their supporting forces. If this is not agreeable we could also be utilized to harass the enemy flanks. Once we are near our destination however I must insist that I rejoin my men and we can plan how will best engage the enemy.” said Osperia.



*********************************

Osperia didn’t mind the flying part. What bothered him wasn’t being able to see while they were flying, or the fact he wasn’t the one controlling the thing doing the flying. His stomach surged a little as the transport dipped towards the ground. After discussion it was agreed the Lightfoot Brigade would be best to attack the enemy’s flanks on the ground from what the maps called the White Forest, terrain that would suit the Rangers perfectly. As the transports carrying the Rangers to the ground landed the Lightfoot Brigade unloaded in an instant, eager to bring the fight to the enemy.

Unloaded the unit broke into their platoons and quickly disappeared into the forest. The camouflage on their armor shimmered a little as the colors shifted to more closely resemble colors of the foreign forest. Rifles were unslung, mortar tubes planted into the ground as the Brigade prepared for the signal to launch their assault.
Last edited by Celtlan on Sat Feb 11, 2017 7:12 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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The Batorys
Senator
 
Posts: 4997
Founded: Oct 12, 2009
Iron Fist Socialists

Postby The Batorys » Thu Mar 09, 2017 4:22 pm

A cough pierced the dusty gloom.

It was followed by a pained groan, and then by more coughing, and the rattle of gravel and stones being disturbed. Roka pushed herself up, hanging her head as her sore muscles burned. She paused there for a moment, or several minutes, who knew, before pushing herself to her knees. Cautiously, perhaps afraid of what she would see, she looked about. The dim light indicated it was late afternoon, approaching dusk. Had she been out a whole night and day? The air was filled with dust and smoke still. And yet also heavy with the scent of spilled blood. The slumped figures of the dead were visible through the haze. Now that the fight was over, the amount of carnage was striking. How many had they faced, in the end? Shadows seemed almost alive to her vision. Perhaps she'd hit her head harder than she thought.

At least the fact that no one had come and killed her while she was out implied that there were none that the Dragon's Claws had missed. The cult's acolytes and priestesses, at least the ones attending this ritual, were all dead. Were all her subordinates as well? Darjeeling had died during the fight, but Roka had been sure that Lumi and the new recruit, Giggles, had been with her. The moroii attempted to stand, and grunted with pain. She'd apparently taken more wounds in the previous night's fiasco than she had remembered. "What a disaster," she muttered under her breath.

A grunt from near the wall snapped her attention around. She drew her long knives, creeping over to the figure that had emitted the sound. As the slumped woman turned her head, she sheathed them, though. "Giggles."

"Fuck. This isn't the afterlife, is it? Because if it is, it's fucking disappointing." She tried to push herself up, grimaced, and gave up, leaning back against the wall.

Her commander frowned. "Can't stand?"

"No, just don't want to."

They both laughed, in a tired, sardonic way. Roka helped the recruit up. "Where's Lumi? And Uqmar?"

"No idea," the light infantrywoman said. "Didn't want to open my eyes, was hoping to maybe sleep longer. This is like waking up with the worst hangover ever, except instead of a headache it's your whole body."

"Yep." Roka's terseness belied how worried she was getting. Perhaps Lumi had died as a result of the.... whatever it was, in which case it was a real shame, but Uqmar's absence was more concerning. He hadn't been in the room, and so should have been fine.

It was Giggles' turn now to look around, seemingly confused as to where their comrade had gone. "She was right with us, wasn't she?"

For a time the two looked through the bodies. So many, with gaping wounds that they themselves had inflicted. There was, however, no sign of Lumi. All the while, Roka couldn't shake the perception that the shadows were moving of their own accord. She would definitely have to see a doctor when they got out. There were more important things to worry about right now, however. "Maybe she already got out." That didn't seem like Lumi, though. She had never been one to abandon her mission or the rest of her hand. It wasn't for no reason that she was often on Roka's hand.

It was at the doorway that they found her, huddled next to the wall, white hair drenched in sweat, body shaking. Roka approached her, but drew back, as the air around the other Dragon's Claw seemed to crackle, a sudden draft chilling her. "Lumi?"

"I don't understand what's happening," the other woman cried, wringing her hands. Sparks flew when she did.

The mistress of the Dragon's Claw stepped back. "Did you see that?" she asked, turning to Giggles. "Or am I hallucinating?"

"No, I saw it, too." The recruit looked a bit sheepish. "You've also kinda been hard to see this whole time. I thought maybe something was wrong with my vision, but it's just you. I wasn't sure until now."

"Oh no." The moroii clenched her fists. "Ithtyr's cunt, what did they do?!"

The three were silent for a time, none wanting to give voice to their speculations on what may have happened to them due to the ritual that apparently had been completed the night before. Or the other possible ramifications.

After a time, Lumi spoke again. "I checked the hall, part of it is collapsed. We're trapped in here for now."

"Well fuck," was all Giggles, or anyone, had to say.

---------------------------------------------------------

It was a few hours later when Uqmar dug them out. Despite the severity of the situation, Roka enjoyed seeing his jaw drop at seeing the extent of the carnage in the chamber.

"Not bad for a night's work, eh?" she chuckled.

"Not at all..." Of course, Uqmar knew from firsthand experience how Roka could carve through dozens of people on a mission, as she was the infamous Left Fang. "Why didn't you call me in to assist?"

Roka shrugged, and then regretted it, as it made the soreness worse. "There was no time. And besides, what if there had been more outside? And then you would have been stuck inside with us. How did things go out there last night, anyway?"

"Quiet, only a couple of acolytes on patrol," he said. "Are any of you wounded?"

"Only a little, no more than scratches, and I feel pretty beat up..." her eyes narrowed, her tone becoming more serious. "There's something wrong with Lumi and me, though... we think because of the ritual the shadow cultists performed last night..."

Uqmar's eyes widened. "They succeeded?! Was that what that... I can't call it an explosion..."

"Apparently." The moroii sighed. "We thought we had stopped them in time, because we killed the last of them... but the ritual went off anyway."

"Damn. Do you think they managed to summon her?"

"I'm not sure," Roka said. "But probably. She's here now. Somewhere. We'll see what happens."

Silence for a minute. "Can you ride?"

"Yeah, but I'm not sure about Lumi. She's not taking what happened very well."

It just so happened that after getting into the open air, Lumi could in fact ride. They set fire to Darjeeling's body and vehicle, tearing off through the sunset, their fallen comrade ablaze behind them.
Mallorea and Riva should resign
This is an alternate history version of Callisdrun.
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Havasu
Secretary
 
Posts: 39
Founded: Sep 10, 2013
Father Knows Best State

Postby Havasu » Tue Mar 14, 2017 8:17 pm

Batlh Hub Fortress, Lookout Point A
Major Thorsish Grail, could hear the sound of small arms fire, machine guns and mortars almost immediately from her position within the fortress atop the nearest lookout point, as the first line of defense began firing upon the advancing Cultist troops. The thump and krump sounds of the first line's armaments however, that was important. Under the threat of an airship bombardment, the first line heavy guns were still busy firing at the armor on the ground. Anti-aircraft weaponry lit up the sky with orange and green tracer rounds. Puffs of smoke bursting upon the heaven's, carrying the shrapnel and so forth to clang into the sides of the heavier than air beasts of burden.

A subordinate of hers, a 2nd Captain of the name Vera Meers, held command of the first line. Suitably impressive was her stature, composure and knowledge of the defensive armament at her disposal. Unfortunately it wouldn't be to long until the Cultists overran it. Had they only been a ground force, perhaps not so, but with combined aerial insertion and bombardment, it was an eventuality that it would be so. Captain Meers orders then were to evacuate when it seemed as such would happen.

+120 minutes incursion
Fortress First Line


Captain Meers stood within the command and control bunker. Field goggles being used to ascertain where and how enemy troops were advancing, what they might be using and all the while listening to the communications gear blare out movements and action reports. Her junior officers were two first Lieutenants by name of Worl, and Gangl who managed the staff as well as met the needs of her senior non commissioned officers and the positions they held.

The first line was composed of fortifications around the furthest exterior of Batlh Hub Fortress and consisted of casemates, two concrete barracks, and six infantry strong points, along with four concrete batteries, equipped with rotating turrets protected by reactive armor plating (100–150 mm). Each position was surrounded by several ditches, or concrete trenches, with shelters and observation cupolas. A large barbed wire belt, defended by machine gun and rifle positions. At the rear of the first line, were several areas for bunkered mortar positions as well as dug in self propelled anti-aircraft vehicles serving as emplaced weaponry, these completed the defensive system.

The first line had large blockhouse style barracks. These had 3-meter thick reinforced concrete roofs with 2-meter thick walls. They were partially buried under as much as 6 m (20 ft) of compacted earth. Underground tunnels connected all of the structures. The deep wide trenches as mentioned, some of which as much as 9 m (30 ft) in both dimensions. They were surrounded by a thick layer of barbed wire entanglements.

The turreted cannons were comprised of differing calibers, with the first two being 105mm rifled anti-armor, and the slightly set backwards of those, being the heavy 203mm artillery pieces. Their brash barks, followed by the almost thunder clap of the bigger calibers seemed to make the air vibrate at times. The softer popping sounds of the 65mm and 85mm mortars overlapped in between reloading of the cannons. In the closing distance, the explosions upon the ground and in the air were nonetheless advancing.

First Lieutenant Worl arrived fresh out of breath, having run with full gear to the command area. " Sir, enemy troops have breached the eastern pocket! They're flooding into the line!" She cursed a bit, and then grabbed her rifle, checking her magazines, and then ratcheting the bolt with a solid sound, akin to someone cracking a can open. Meers took stock of the command element present, herself, Worl and the smattering area of junior officers, NCO's and enlisted that were present. Twenty individuals total.

" Comrades, sound the retreat, we need to get all that we can to the second line, and to Captain Kura. The second line, our brothers and our sisters will need us. Worl, sound the alarm to all sections. Then lead our forces towards the second line. Sergeant Brak, Yars, and the 2nd infantry will come with me. We will hold them at the main passing point until your away."

Worl had a bit of a shocked look on his face, the man's handle bar mustache that he twirled when in thought or some such was untouched as he gasped some. " Captain, you mustn't!" Meers smiled a bit and then peered for a moment down the 1.5x holographic sight, feeling the material of the forward hand grip on her HIA HABS-A2 bullpup assault rifle. " Do as I say, Worl, if there is time, and we are able, we shall follow your lead."

Worl sighed as he nodded and offered a salute to his superior officer as well as to those that stayed he gave them a bit of words. " Let her not die in vain comrades..retreat when able." He vanished out the doorway soon enough as the alarm began to go off. Blue lights flashing as a monotone voice speaking Havani told all personnel to evacuate to coordinated areas of the second line. Meers and the 2nd Infantry on the other hand, put themselves into defensive positions near the main pressing point for a force coming from both the east and the west. Thirty five souls would hold the tide so that three hundred and twenty five could escape to the next defensive area. They had lost nearly twenty to the bombardment from above, there had been wounding, some serious, some not.

Twenty minutes passed, there had been no contact with the enemy, and no personnel had proceeded past them. Meers was about to give the order herself when a rifle near her barked a few times, and a form gave a wheezing sound before collapsing. A cultist kommando dropping like a bag of potatoes, a bit of red spilling forth from where he lay face down. Rifle fire form behind him came out of the gloom of the hallway as the lights turned off, either by her own orders or the enemy cutting the power where they found it.

Interior explosions made the whole facility quake as her demolition order came to fruition. The turreted cannons above ground fractured and spilt their exteriors as mighty forms of shrapnel amidst the enemy. The mortars had been picked up and hauled out by their operators and the several of the self propelled AA vehicles had also escaped, although some had been destroyed either about to move or on the move from enemy fire.

She peered through the sight, and returned fire, opting for single fire use. Wherever she saw enemy fire out of the dark, that's where she returned it. The green of the scope was the illumination of the night vision being used to her advantage. Headgear would have been better, but she didn't have any. A stick grenade came bouncing into the defensive area and the blast was deafening, she saw the ragdoll form of Sergeant Yars laying against one side of the formerly pristine white wall leading to one of the interior hallways. An enlisted soldier nearby with an arm missing, bleeding out and another enlisted dead upon the blast, had fallen atop it to try and save his comrades.

That wasn't a regular grenade, some sort of demolition device. The familiar ka-thunk sound of an underbarrel grenade launcher the response as Sergeant Brak fired it into the same hallway the grenade came out of, where forces breaking through the east would be heading into. Muted screams in the distance as it struck, sending it's ball bearings shrapnel load and explosive force into a confined area. " That'll teach you lot to come here it will you dirty bastards!"

Sergeant Brak's colorful language seemed to motivate the remaining troops as well as herself and they continued to hold. About twenty minutes had passed and the cultists continued to come. However a new fact had surprised them as the west and northern portions of the line were also being breached. Two enlisted men had died when shot in the back, the rest of the force returned fire and killed the interloper, but it was plain that the mid-point was no longer able to provide them with a vantage of defense.

Meers intended to not self sacrifice here, for Yars and those who had died, she'd return so that Worl didn't have both a conniption nor a failing of his soul at letting his commanding officer die in place of him. She glanced back at the rest of them, adjusting her combat helmet some. " Alright, gather up the wounded, we're heading into the tunnel. Lieutenant Yars, prep the explosives for when we're clear and place mines and traps here to slow them down. Cue'd by her shooting another cultist and driving a few more into cover. " Quickly now!"

Yars nodded and crouching down, made his way down the short line of defenders. He blind fired here and there to keep cultist forces at bay, accidentally shooting one in the belly and dropping him down to the ground. Pulling the pin from a grenade, he lobbed the sphere shaped device into that general are and the resulting crumping bang brought sounds of distraction from the enemy. Wounded first, then not wounded herded towards the protected retreat passage. Mines laid carefully, grenades under bodies of the dead, and so on. Eventually all thirty remaining soldiery were heading towards the second line, Brak and Meers herself offering one more bit of gunfire before following suit.

As they reached the end of the escape tunnel and into a staging area just outside of the secondary line, where advance forces of Captain Kura had managed to get to, Brak pushed the button on a deadman switch and the tunnel collapsed as semtex explosives went off without a hitch. Worn out a bit by the brief foray into close quarters combat, Meers reported to Kura eventually once all of her men were stationed properly and the wounded sent to the third line.

" They're not slowing sir." She spoke to Kura. " If anything they show near disregard for themselves and their comrades, they advanced into firing zones regardless of how many of them we killed. Like ants, they just kept coming. Completely mad, I cant understand this sort of behavior in a soldier. "

Kura nodded. " Yes, good work on silencing your guns as well. We'll make those louts pay indeed." He plucked up the radio-phone."Salvo crews, you may fire at will, the first line is now enemy territory." Second line's cannonry opened fire, and Meers watched as her command became fire and smoke.

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The Batorys
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Iron Fist Socialists

Postby The Batorys » Fri Mar 31, 2017 10:37 pm

As Istengrad's vibrant night life throbbed with hustle and bustle, an unseen figure watched from the rooftops. It was good to be back, to be out again, the Dragon's Claw thought. The wind whipped her tattered cloak, but now even the keenest observer would have trouble spotting her, as she seemed to melt into the shadows almost as if she wasn't there, only the shadow's slightest flutter letting giving any indication that this was anything but a normal shadow. Satisfied with her observations, she moved, flitting from rooftop to rooftop. Around her, shadows seemed to coalesce, as if continually sheltering her from prying eyes.

Soon enough, the Dragon's Claw neared the center of the old city, where the Lair loomed. While certainly much smaller than the modern skyscrapers in Istengrad's downtown area, the hulking, misshapen fortress loomed over the old city area, the most ancient area of this, the Batory Empire's old capital, and though it had been frequently added to and remodeled over the centuries, resulting in its odd appearance, it was among the oldest edifices even in this neighborhood. The figure made her way onto the grounds, and then unlocked a window, and slipped inside. All the while, said window lay in shadow, light only illuminating it a short while later.

The halls, of course, were far from empty, once she emerged from the room she'd entered. However, despite the famed arrogance of the Batory Clan's members, they gave her a wide berth. Dragon's Claw were not to be trifled with, after all. For her part she dropped her hood, no need to hide here. Casual observations of the hidden domestic lives of the Empire's ruling clan... parents herding children to and fro, with mixed success, lovers in various states of dress and undress, servants carrying out the mundane tasks of running such an enormous residential building, occasionally other Dragon's Claw, who nodded respectfully.

Eventually, she reached her destination, a door of old, dark wood, on bronze hinges set in the dark stone. Nice, but not any more particularly remarkable than any other doorway on this hall. Not far, but not next to the door, either, another Dragon's Claw pretended to play with his phone. With a patterned knock, she entered.

"Ah, hello Roka," said a voice from inside, belonging to none other than Ilona Batory, heir to the throne of bones. Despite the pomp and grand airs of the Batorys in public, she sat behind an ordinary, although finely built, wooden desk, chin resting on one hand, as if trying to seduce someone. "How was your first night back on patrol? Care for a drink?"

"Sure," Roka Darvul, mistress of the Dragon's Claw replied, tersely, slumping into one of the chairs.

The daughter of the Empress withdrew a bottle of liquor and two glasses from inside the desk, and poured a drink for each, sipping on her own.

In contrast, the Darvul took a generous swig from her glass. "It was good, but I'm exhausted," she sighed.

"Have you gotten rusty, or is it a... side effect?" Ilona asked.

Taking another swig, the assassin nodded "maybe a little of the first, but mostly the latter."

For a while, no one said anything, as the the Batory heir nodded. "Unsurprising," she said. "The records we've searched do occasionally mention fatigue."

"Is that so?" Roka replied sarcastically, leaning back.

"Perhaps you'll adjust to it?" A pause. "How is Lumi progressing?"

"Well enough, when it doesn't get away from her."

Ilona nodded. "Perhaps you should spend the next few nights consulting with Ignac Zizka, and get some rest."

The Dragon's Claw laughed. "Everyone else calls him Potsherds, and I suppose I'll tag along as he putters through the Secret Histories."

"Don't be so cavalier, there's a wealth of knowledge there..."

A dismissive gesture. "Don't you remember all of that anyway?" Who else could talk to the next Batory Empress this way?

"It isn't that simple," she replied, shaking her head. "You know that."

The Dragon's Claw sighed. "I know. This could all be really useful if we knew what we were doing... so many records, and they only mention all of this... sorcery... incidentally."

"It seems that the shadow cultists gave us a most frustrating gift."

Roka nodded. "There's still that other matter... she's out there... somewhere."

"Do you think she went directly to confront, I suppose, her opposite?"

"It's certainly possible. But for some reason I don't think so... not yet..."

"Perhaps we shouldn't have wiped out the summoners," Ilona sighed. "Their intention was likely to confront the Cthulhuite cultists. A conflict that grows increasingly alarming."

"We need to be ready to do so... we've identified numerous... natural talents, let's call them, but it will take time. And resources. I mean, if we wish to make full use of this development."

"Very well. You will have whatever you require. Now get some rest."

At that, Roka stood up, bowed, and grinning, wrapped herself in shadows, which, when they dissipated, revealed nothing where she had formerly stood.

"Show off," Ilona shook her head.
Mallorea and Riva should resign
This is an alternate history version of Callisdrun.
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The Church of Starry Wisdom
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Founded: Feb 10, 2013
Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby The Church of Starry Wisdom » Fri May 05, 2017 11:49 pm

Packaged in steel boxes, presents for Death

The landers armor shrugged off shrapnel and enemy small arms fire, and what have you as it broke through the black clouds thrown up by anti-aircraft guns and plummeted towards the very earth. Gravity almost forgotten as bodies locked into position by locking bars and straps waved appendages in odd motions back and forth. Time seemed to slow until each lander threw it's nose up before impact and the smashing force of aforementioned gravity nearly crushed one into the thinly cushioned bucket like seat.

Not all of the transports made this knee jerk reaction, many, in fact, quite a few of them simply became bright blue flame laden wrecks that smashed into the unforgiving earth. Shrapnel whipped about the skies, slicing through the thin hulls of the mass people movers, stealing life as easily as the guns and missiles on the ground did. Clouds drenched in blood, soon to rain as those whom survived that horror would indulge in the grit and gruesome terror of war upon foot.

The engines whined as the flying brick of a transport righted itself to be just under a meter from the ground as the flooring disappeared, metal sliding back. As the transport slid forward, a mysterious gel would wrap about each cultist soldier that was deposited through the opening and would more or less cushion the landing of said trooper, evaporating after it did so, though those dark uniforms would bear the look of being slick, perhaps wet of sorts. Each cultist bore a uniform that was of a grey, black flecktarn design. What could probably have been identified as a gas mask covered face, though the visor like attachment had a singular orange glow in the center. Tubes led from either side at the jaw, back into a central unit upon chest, beneath the combat armor worn.

Bodies fell to this cursed earth, some with holes in them, others missing limbs as the Havani defensive positions culled a great reaping. As if a scythe was being swung back and forth near the barbwire infested trenches, great swathes of fire drowned the lands in blood and screams. For a time it looked as if the flood of ebony and grey might be contained, until at long last, the dam that was, broke in various places. The flood became drained by rivers of cultists penetrating the Havani defensive line, felled within it's grasp by those would be defenders.

Even as the defenders fled, victory was hollow and bittersweet as the many explosives from emplacements meant that enemy sappers had been given the time needed by their delaying action. Aelol (Ensign) Pyrus took stock of the situation, as the battle raged on, his orders were clear, to discover a way for ground forces to skirt the fortress. The white woods looked the most promising and he dispatched a contingent to it, tasked with plotting a course through and around. The Shasal Orolaes (Warrant Officer) would be the lead. He shared the map and ideas with said subordinate, though not familiar with the individual, the name was Fekhin he believed, the order was nonetheless given. A nod of head in very crisp fashion and then Fekhin went on a count several times over, taking with him all individuals numbered up to three. This gave him an operating force of about eighty cultist troopers, twenty specialists, and four thaumaturgy clerics.

As the contingent headed towards the woods through a path of the first line, Pyrus was on the radio provided by the communication specialist next to him, and after a few brave peeks over the nearest trench wall towards the second line, narrowly avoiding a sniper's bullet the last time, for directed suppression. Even as fighter aircraft screamed by at barely above his head it seemed, the enemy was more determined..as was the presence of the fleet being concerned all of a sudden to a new threat. His gaze led him to..Takhisians? He loudly cursed and told those under his command to prepare for combat both forward and elsewhere.

The battle in the sky above, it was deafening as he could only imagine what it must be like..

The Heavens on Fire

Demitri cursed as the cruiser that had exploded sent a ripple through the air, like a tsunami into the fleet as it first crumpled inwards under lancing fire, and then exploded outwards. Untold hundreds of lives lost in an instant, and the battle music that might as well have served as a jamming device pounded his ears. Lythelia had not reacted as he did but he could feel her anger, the way she clenched upon him. He'd not moved from his spot before her throne, but he could feel it as she placed her head beside his and spoke. " Whom are these petty things to be in my way?" He responded. " Takhisian's Mistress, servants of Shinare and apparently allies of the Havani ".

She snorted a bit derisively, and then yelled a command of which Demitri backed up with a nod to a pair of nervous officers. The fleet opened fire soon after, coming about to focus upon the newly found threat nipping at it's heels and exposed flank. Fire for fire, but this fleet lacked in experience. True he would sacrifice them all for her sake, and as it was, he'd already been doing so with the ground forces. He thought to himself, this artifact better be worth it.

As if reading his mind, Lythelia swooped in and cooed in his right ear. " Yes, it is. And you will bleed more then just the souls here for me, should I desire it, and I will."

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Celtlan
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Founded: Apr 02, 2013
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Celtlan » Tue Jun 27, 2017 9:56 am

Main Lightfoot Brigade Force

Osperia took stock of the evolving situation on his TAC-command. After touching down and slowly filtering through the forest towards the battle, scout reports had come back quickly at what was happening. Realizing he was outgunned and outnumbered by the force assaulting the fortress, even with the air support above being provided by the Takhisians, Osperia ordered an immediate retreat back into the woods to prepare a defense of some sort.

Even though it wasn’t the forest they called home, the Rangers were loathe to try and cut down any of the trees where they were even if it meant they could help defend themselves. Centuries of border skirmishes had taught the Rangers other useful tricks and tools as well though. Spreading out across a vast line through the forest.

Rangers either began to dig into the earth, clouds of dirt flying into the air as they carved holes out to hide in, or they climbed into the trees and nestled in amongst the foliage. Others reached into their pouches and threw several seeds along the lines while whispering a divine prayer to their goddess. After several minutes plants could be seen sprouting from the earth where the seeds had been planted, eventually they would grow into thick short bushes, which while not being capable of stopping and enemy’s bullet they provided areas of concealment for the Rangers to move to and from in a firefight.

Small mines and other nasty explosives were planted to funnel the enemy towards kill zones were squad automatic weapons were positioned to maximize their high rate of fire. Small pits were dug and sharp metal rods were placed in the bottom to make as many soldiers as possible unable to march with wounds in their foot.

“Sir, scouts report a small force has detached and headed towards our positions.” reported Osperia’s Command Sergeant.

“Too soon, the Brigade hasn’t even begun to range their mortars or fully deploy our area denial systems.” said Osperia as he considered his options.

“Inform the scouts they are to engage at will and deploy Aspen Company from Second Battalion to delay until we’re finished up here at once.”

1rst Warden Caprillia, 1rst Reconnaissance Platoon

Caprilla had nestled into a nice thick bush and was watching the battle below her. Having been raised in the Kingdom all her life and having fought in the Lightfoot Brigade she couldn’t understand why other army’s commanders just willing sent their troops into what they had to know would be a meatgrinder. Of course she mused the Kingdom had never actually attacked anyone until now either of course. She watched as soldiers fearlessly marched straight into the teeth of the enemy seeming to not care as their comrades died to the left and right of them. She also felt a tinge of sorrow for the defenders who fought so valiantly in the face of this seemingly unrelenting machine of war that bore down on them.

“Contingent of troops breaking of from the main force and headed our direction ma’am.” came a whisper over her comms. Caprilla swung the her rifle towards the area and looked through her scope and counted quickly how many there were and reported it back to Command.

Fire at will was the response.

She knew that shooting now would likely only invite a larger group to respond almost instantly, and with only her and nine other scouts along the forest line she knew they wouldn’t even last a minute.

“Withdraw back from the treeline and set your Mawlers along any paths you find, we’ll move back a hundred meters and target anyone who looks like they're in charge first.” ordered the 1rst Warden.

Moving slowly out of her bush she backed away from the treeline on her belly as fast as she could. Crawling towards one of the larger game trails she saw she unhooked her pack and reached inside and pulled out a square shaped device with two metal rods on the bottom which she sharply jabbed into the ground.

Pulling a hair thin wire connected to the device she strung it across the path and tied it off to a stout looking sapling on the opposite side of the path from the device. Crawling around to the back side she slowly pulled the devices arming pin and then she gently covered the Mawler with dead foliage to hide it. Getting up to a crouch she moved along and set three more of Mawlers and she almost felt sorry for the unlucky soul who might wander into them.

She had seen several times firsthand what the anti-personnel devices were capable off. Once triggered an explosion was set off and a cloud of gem shaped objects with razor sharp edges was sent flying in the direction the Mawler was pointed, cutting virtually anything unarmored to ribbons.

After setting the last one she sprinted to where she was sure a hundred meters was and quickly covered herself with whatever grasses and leaves she could find. Lowering her eye to her scope she sighted through it and waited for the enemy.

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The Church of Starry Wisdom
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Founded: Feb 10, 2013
Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby The Church of Starry Wisdom » Sat Sep 09, 2017 10:56 pm

White Woods Assault
Shasal Orolaes (Warrant Officer) Fehkin advanced into the forest with his contingent of soldiery, and clerics. The specialists had spread out on either side of the column, and then as the column itself began to spread out, they'd run into the first of the improvised anti-personnel devices.

Explosions rippled across the woods, and many of those under his command were turned into ragdoll versions of themselves, tossed about like chaff in the wind, blood and body parts adorning the blackened earth.

Some gaved muffled cries under the tubed masks, only to have a sickening thunk sound echo forth as the body was pinned to a tree trunk. The glorious white wood stained with the blood of a fallen warrior. Others disappeared from sight, only to be found stuck to pointed sticks, writhing in agony until a mercy shot was given.

On top of the traps, there was the accurate fire directed from concealed positions within the bushes and trees of the wooded area they had made an incursion into. Perhaps Havani Rangers, or some other sort of force was stalling them here. As the body count rose, Fehkin crouched down and gave hand gesture orders to the specialists and surviving junior officers.

Fehkin was unfamiliar with this sort of warfare, he was not a specialist, but a rank and file infantry officer. However, he understood the danger that those under his command were now in, and as such, he ordered canister rounds loaded and fired into the bush ahead of them. Ka-thunk sounds echoed as the rifle mounted canister grenade rounds arced up and then before landing, broke apart, spilling a noxious gas element designed to harm both people and foliage alike. Yes ladies and gentlemen, a variant of Agent Orange has arrived.

Under nominal conditions, it might take years for effects to be noticed, but for the cultists, they preferred the HIA version, which had much, much sooner end results. In mere minutes, those caught within the radius of exposure would find that blistering of the skin would be near immediate, while numbness, tingling, and muscle weakness would follow soon after.

The total annihilation of the vegetative cover would soon follow, as the grass, assorted plant life, and tree's themselves would begin to wither and die from exposure to such a weapon. Unlike their foes however, the cultist troops wore gear that prevented their harm from such a weapon, and as such were very liberal in it's use within the white wood. As a counter strike towards the unknown assailants in the White Wood, they covered their rifle canister launches with small arms and heavy weapons fire to keep their unknown opponents heads towards the earth or whatever cover they might have had.

Fehkin who was of the belief that such a weapon might not kill off all of the resistance, was on the sat-com to request armored support and aerial fire danger close so as to secure the eastern pass through the wood. Death would be favorable to displeasing Lythelia.

The Cultist Fleet

Lythelia observed the battle, and it's progression. The arrival of Shinare's chosen was not apart of her plan, but she did not think they would be unmolested here, arriving such as they did. There was a presence, at the edges of her sight, something or someone gathered, yet did not yet wish to be seen. Perhaps it was what brought these so called Takhisian's here.

A slight draw of her right index finger alongst the jawline of her Dimitri, before she spoke, as hooking the tip of her talon like nail upon lip and against inner cheek a moment. " Be a dear my sweet, and take us over the wood area, away from the fort. Let our shield rise up and protect us while we claim what I desire."

Dimitri nodded a moment, being allowed to break free, if even for a few scant moments before she drew him back, into the embrace of servitude as he issued orders. The actions of such orders, was that the flagship and nearly a dozen vessels broke from the main engagement, covered by the ships of the line and their clustering, presenting little to no openings for the enemy fleet, while at the same time, allowing for Lythelia's flagship and support fleet to skirt about the fortress and it's defensive lines, by heading over the so named White Woods itself.

The creature that commanded him laid her index finger upon the holographic map display, and spoke a command. " You will sail us here my scion, the artifact resides in this place." Dimitri brought up the information of the area, and the place marked was some sort of repository or archive of ancient history. A museum at one point some forty years in the past. It was listed as a civilian establishment and had no military presence at all.

Well, he thought, there wont be a presence of anyone, after we're done. A tilt of head, and an officer approached. " Dalus, prepare your 8th Regiment for para-assault, no one survives, take what She demands." Indicating towards the resplendent female form upon the throne of the bridge. Lythelia cooed delightfully at Dimitri's words before she spoke. " Mmm..My Scion, such a charmer. In any case, you, Dalus, you will fetch for me, an artifact of knowledge. A book. It will be secured, probably guarded, but you've your orders yes, this book is of ebon hue, and it will be wrapped in white wool. If you touch any part that is not covered by the wool, you will die...painfully."

Dalus nodded quickly, and offered a bow of head. " It will be done Mistress Lythelia." She welcomed Dimitri once more into her embrace and purred a bit, a slight whisper of sorts. " Such loyalty, where were they when I was a queen so long ago?" As Dalus left, her eyes were upon the monitors. " We must be done with this soon, there are other forces at work..we cannot let them know what we seek."


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