The Peace With Honor (Elvarya Only)

[Novo Razcon]

3/29/19
Novo Razcon City
The Arkhonian Embassy

Today was, to put it lightly, busy for the Supreme Leader. Earlier today, the Honorable South Vestila Company finally readied itself to make a deal with the government to sell drugs within the region. In summary, the deal was for the cartel controlled by the Honorable South Vestila Company to either sell weaker drugs and give Novo Razcon a share of the profits or to peddle harder drugs. Several members of the Imperial Ministry, along with the Supreme Leader, lobbied for moving the deal to only medical drugs. As another thing, the Supreme Leader of the Empire of San Laozan called him a tyrant earlier in spite of San Laozan's, among other things, being more ideologically radical and conservative than Novo Razcon. The worst thing of all was the terrorist threat from the Forces of Laerolk; the Imperial Armed Forces were attempting to handle them, but with 1/6 of your state's land being occupied by terrorists who could hop around like nomads, things are difficult. He could only hope as few casualties as possible would ensue and that the Brotherhood could handle them. The latter of three issues was the event for which the Arkhonian representative was in a meeting with the Supreme Leader.

"Sir, I have a proposal from the rich and glorious Arkhon Federation to such a sad and sorry second-world state like yours," the Arkhonian began, passing a paper across the desk for Lee to read, "As you can see on the agreement I've drafted up, the Federation will donate the Empire money to fight its terrorists on two conditions. One, you film the fighting for the enjoyment of Arkhon. Two, you send all captured terrorists to Arkhon," he concluded, coinciding with Jason's finishing reading the agreement.

"Hang on, is this deal implying that the warfare going on within second-world or third-world powers like mine is little more than one of those reality TV programs you show back in the Federation?" The head of state responded, his eyes catching the implications of the arrangement like a glove would catch a baseball.

"Well, yes." the other man responded rather directly.

The Leader began to lean forward, the fingers of his right hand massaging his forehead with his eyes shut and bated breaths crawling out of his mouth. His left hand was tempted to punch, shoot, or do something else to this insulting man, but he coudln't without the Arkhon Federation wanting his head, so his brain ordered it to clench into a fist under the desk. Taking a minute to collect himself, he began to explain something.

"I don't believe I will be accepting this. First, the Novo Razconian Treason Act clarifies the penalty for treason, which includes these acts of terrorism, to be death. Second, war isn't something to be taken lightly. Of course, your country wouldn't know because it never fought a defensive war, but I do. I was alive during the Razonican War, and, honestly, it was a nightmare. Every day, I thought a stray bomb might strike me wherever I went and end my life. Heck, considering the nutjobs who ran the Razonican Empire, things could very easily have gone nuclear. And when the Razonican Explosion happened, things went even more hectic. It was city-state against city-state, party against party, power against power, and at that moment, I tried to carve out a slice of the empire for myself and my followers. I won, but goodness knows it could very easily have failed and resulted in my death. That revolution against Laerolk and this one to somehow vindicate him are people who volunteered and people who were drafted busting their arses on the fronts of war in the name of their states. These are people with families, people with loved ones, people with lives, who more than likely die or develop PTSD from what they've seen. I know you may tell me to swallow my pride, but I refuse to have a battlefield be turned into a reality TV set. More often than not, war isn't entertainment. War is hell that should only be done when absolutely necessary, and I don't think I'm in any mood to negotiate any further. This meeting is over."

As the two awkwardly parted ways, the Supreme Leader began to think to himself.

"Blasted upper-class twits. Someone should knock them down a peg, but not me of course. That would be stupid. "

[Scain]

4/2/2019

King Nelson was pacing the room, he was angry at the international community because they placed him in a position with no authority. He could not do anything without a representative from the coalition telling him no. Nelson could now see the frustration of the people, but he knew that he had to work with them. So, he collected himself and sat down at his desk. He was looking through the news when he came across an interesting article from Arkhon, the Pig, as the people called him. He began reading the article and continued to become increasingly angry when he saw that he was going to start sending civilian cruise ships to his islands.

Nelson set down the article and began to rub his eyes, he understood that this was not a big deal, but it still pissed him off that Arkhon would send his people to make fun of Scain's poverty. "What fucking pigs", he thought as he continued to rub his eyes. He took out his pen and began drafting a letter to the Arkhon Federation,

Dear Arkhon,

It has come to my attention that you are going to start letting civilian cruise ships tour the Scainish Islands. This is an insult to my nation which is trying to combat poverty and corruption. As a nation that Scain would like to work with, I ask that you immediately stop this nonsense. I understand that Scain has attacked you several times, but Scain is changing and the power has shifted into my hands. I promise as a respectable leader that no further attacks will come from Scain.

I hope that we can continue to grow our relationship as nations,

King Nelson

[Novo Razcon]

3/8/19
Southern Portaval
Novo Razcon

A searing hot desert sun shined over a reddish mass of rock. On the hard rock, two sets of black boots sprinted across the panoramic scene, leaving fresh prints. Beads of sweat rolled down their faces, their bodies clothed in the black garments of the Novo Razconian Imperial Armed Forces. Eventually, the two settle down at a spot in the land where they could gaze over the entire landmass.

"Do you think we'll find any rebels today?" One of the men asks the other while wiping the sweat from his face before setting a pair of binoculars over his eyes.

"I don't think so, but I hope we can. The sooner we kill them, the sooner this war ends and the sooner I can get back home. You know my wife's pregnant with another kid, right?" The other man responds, setting down a notebook with something scribbled on it. Likely a letter from the front.

"Yes, you've told me several times, sir. Although I wish you'd consider choosing the military as a voluntary occupation. Kicking these arses will be quite enter- " The first man pauses. In a hurry, he removes his binoculars, wipes his eyes, and looks with the binoculars, pointing towards 2 o'clock, "Sir, I found some Greenshirts!" He yells excitedly, "Looks like 100 grand moving northwest 25-wide with a few dozen tanks. Tell the general!"

"Right away," He agrees, radioing his general. After a quick screech of radio feedback, the following message came through, "General, 100-K Greenies headed northwest in rows of 25 with under 100 tanks moving north through the Aldes Desert en route to Libero."

"Excellent. Judging from our current positions, we'll be able to rout them roughly 1000 kilos due southeast of Libero. Excellent work, men. Let's kick these arses as soon as we can." A voice replied.

The battle plan was simple- move the 150,000 Novo Razconian soldiers in Portaval around the forces marching towards Libero, but not close enough for them to notice. Then, the armies would close the circle they were forming, trapping an outnumbered and outgunned force. In spite of owning 1/6th of Novo Razcon's land, the Forces of Laerolk lacked much of the industrial power of Novo Razcon, which is still relatively poor compared to the first world.

Later that night, with the Forces of Laerolk

On the edge of the Aldes Desert, a makeshift camp stuck out like a sore thumb. It wasn't really much, just enough to be established and dismantled with ease- a wide array of tents with jade-colored covering. Roughly ninety percent of them were housings for soldiers, and the rest served as a variety of mess halls, vehicle repair shops, medical stations, et cetera. In one of the tents, serving as a makeshift cathedral, a mandatory session of prayer was underway for the Forces of Laerolk. Lit only by candles, a rather dim light, a group of men clad in jade green military uniforms kneeled, with a priest standing tall and uttering a prayer,

"Oh, Ever-Parents, I pray to you to deliver our forces, fighting in the name of the ideology of Edmund Laerolk, a swift and bloodless victory over the heathens under Supreme Leader Jason Lee. Amen."

Their commanding officer, a man as tall as the priest clad in a decorated version of a standard military uniform, began to speak.

"Alright, men, you are dismissed to your sleeping tents. Tomorrow, we wake up, get breakfast, and grab Libero for our holy quest. First, let's get some shut-eye."

At the moment, the rest of the soldiers filed out of the tent and into their designated sleeping chambers, a collective feeling of excitement hanging over both armies in Portaval. Thinking the war would end quickly with a victory for their side, a good majority of the citizens loyal to the two factions was content with the Civil War, but fate would gladly prove them wrong.

[Jord]

While the crowns council was busy discussing their plans once more as to what to do, Doctors Eli and Jonson were busy thinking over what to do in their own little conference room.

A map of The Zone was displayed on the table, with lines dividing it into certain sections made by the two.

"And we're going to have to set up a border about 1-5 kilometres from the Zone, to ensure that we keep all life contaminated inside while keeping others from the outside in. We wouldn't want to have some of the contaminated species breed with the outside world would we?" Eli said as he drew a border around The Zone, "And meanwhile we can begin setting up our operations about a few miles out from the local farmlands, where we can begin taking samples and begin testing the local wildlife and flora."

"Back to the wildlife, would it be that bad to have them breed with uncontaminated others?" Jonson asked.

"Truthfully we don't know, as we have yet to see what effects this sort of ordeal had on the local wildlife. We're only taking safety precautions, after all, you should know well the full aspects of radiation after all."

"It's just a strange thing is all I'm saying," Jonson added, "But back to what I was saying, we're going to need a bit more funding to set up or operation inside The Zone, new labs, hire more staff, and even to hold this military based border. How exactly are we going to get the money for this while Her Majesty is busy handling both this and other matters?"

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and one of the servants came in.

"Sorry to interrupt, sirs, but a man is here to see you."

"Who?" Eli asked.

"A representative from New Scotland, he said he wanted to discuss something involving The Zone."

The two scientists looked at each other, each wondering why someone from New Scotland would be here of all people, and what exactly he wanted to do with The Zone.

"Send him in."

The servant nodded and left, before coming back into the room with a new man which neither of them recognized.

He was a middle-aged man, with short ginger hair and wearing a navy blue three-piece suit

"Good evening gentlemen, my name is Micheil MacColla, a representative from RIVER, an R&D and Medical research company from New Scotland. I'm here to talk to you about The Zone you are both working in."

"How did you know that?" Eli asked.

"From the tabloids, of course, word does travel fast around the web you know, and I something like this has caught my employers eye let me tell you."

"What do you want with The Zone?"

"It's from our understanding that before this meltdown The Zone was filled with quite a few farms as well as many types of wild animals, especially pigs, boar, deer, and so on. What I am here to offer you is a chance to allow my company to go into the Zone and both hunt and bring back live specimens to study and use."

"What would someone like you want to do with the animals you hunt exactly, they're all contaminated with irradiation and also carrying some cancers," Jonson asked.

"We plan to use these specimens to our advantage in the field of radiological research, as well as further our understandings on diseases such as Cancer."

"And what exactly would you give us if we allow you access to The Zone, we cannot just let you in for free you know," Eli said.

"I understand that, which is why my company is willing to offer you ten million for the rights itself, and we're offering to pay a specific tax for each animal we bring in from the zone," Micheil told them.

The two scientists thought it over for a second. With that kind of money, they could be able to start their project for The Zone and be able to begin work almost immediately, while also being able to maintain it.

"Very well, we accept the offer," Jonson said.

"Excellent," Micheil said with a clap of his hands, and a smile on his face, "Gentlemen, you shall not regret this, mark my words."

[Germeria]

March 1st, 2019
11:23 a.m. Razonican Eastern Time
Bourdaean Markets

The annual Razonican spring thaw came early this year, melting the snows and turning the soft and open ground of Bourdae into a muddy mess of people, animals and carts. Tulip and twelve other members of SOFT had been stationed in the city of Bourdae alongside the former terrorist Germaine and a member of the Imperial Guard, Germeri'a most elite military unit. Tulip didn't know why the Kaiser was interested enough in a simple sneak and grab op to position a Guardsman with them, especially considering the low value the Target to Gemeria itself.

Robert N'Kamba was the newest militant figurehead of the Black Lion movement based out of Tadbu, rallying the native Tadbuese and foreign citizens, primarily those once under Razonican rule, to fight against their overlords and oppressors. Reading through his file, however, lead Tulip to believe that N'Kamba's rise was due more to extreme luck and maneuvering through the groups fractious political hierarchy. The Black Lions were already facing dire straits when they rebelled against Razonican rule before the war, and being caught in the crossfire of multiple powers left much of its leadership dead, giving N'Kamba his chance to rise.

Even with much of the leadership dead they seemed to have a strong foothold in the hinterlands of Tadbu, and N'Kamba began traveling to various areas held by the Razonicans to gain the support needed to finance their war for independence. This culminated in December of 2018, according to Germaine, when his cell met up with Black Lion members and hashed out a meeting between N'Kamba and the Bourdaean L'épée d'or cell in order to facilitate a more formal alliance between the two groups.

Now three months after the raid on the L'épée d'or safehouse, the members of SOFT, Germaine and the Guardsman were finally in position after keeping up the cover of an active cell to apprehend and interrogate N'kamba, and after which he would more than likely be handed to the Scots, especially after the attack on Edinburgh. Sitting in one of the many cars stationed around the city's market, Tulip reviewed the op on his laptop, Fleisch sitting next to him.

"Lüwe, I'm going through the camera feeds now, is everything fine on your end?"

"Everything's crystal on my end Captain. We managed to get the AA-9 Drone integrated into the Bourdeaen information network, shouldn't have to worry about a bureaucrat getting nosy about it. And our little new VA-3 buddy is hovering on the top of an apartment building, and might I say the women here are mighty fine."

"Too right man, we should've grabbed this place in the peace deal," commented Förster, who was situated near a stall in the center of the market. Tulip sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose at the antics of the new members of SOFT. While they were undoubtedly skilled, they were all hasty replacements to make up for the massive amount of casualties SOFT sustained during their operation to avert a nuclear strike on Entente cities during the Razonican War. With the exception of Tulip himself and Eier, everyone in the unit was a transfer from other units, and not all of them Special Operations Groups.

"Cut the chatter, we've got an HVT to secure and not a lot of room to do it. Lüwe, keep watching those drones and inform me if you spot N'Kamba entering the market. Förster, I need you focused and ready to move in case he manages to escape our trap. Understood?"

"Crystal, captain."

The next few minutes passed in silence as the thirteen men waited for sign of their target. Tulip checked the various feeds from his encrypted laptop to get a sense of the surroundings. Five two man teams were placed at different corners of the marketplace, standing by in vehicles or on foot to quickly enter and clear the marketplace in case conflict occurs, while Germaine and Berg would be near the center in order to keep up appearances that Le'epee Dor was meeting the Black Lions, and the Imperial Guardsman was situated somewhere in the crowd, preferring to keep radio silence. Checking the AA-9 feed, he spotted a black car rolling to a stop, with five men leaving the vehicle and forming a circle around a man in the center.

"I got eyes on a possible target on the AA-9 boss, can you confirm?" Lüwe's voice came through the comms. Tulip increased the zoom on the camera and looked at the center man just as he looked up. The distinct features of N'Kamba were put on the display, with the grotesque scar running through the center of his face being the crown jewel of his many 'trophies'. Tulip proceeded to close his laptop and signal Eier to get out of the car, checking his modified Vector .45 and keeping it as hidden as possible.

"That's him Lüwe. All teams this is Tulip, we have a positive identification of N'Kamba and Eier and I are entering the marketplace. Teams Drei and Vier, keep watch on the perimeter and make sure he doesn't escape from the south or north. Zwei, move in on the marketplace on foot, Lüwe I want you to watch that drone and feed intel to Germaine and Berg. Let's do this."

"Germaine, Berg, the HVT is moving right towards you, 1' o'clock. Should be on top of you in thirty seconds. I'm moving the AA-9 into a tighter loop, and the VA-9 is being prepped in case he makes a run." Lüwe spoke. As Tulip and Eier moved through the fairgrounds, a nervous energy started to move through the crowd as people began to notice the new entourage of dark foreigners armed with weapons, concealed as they were. Tulip saw Förster in his periphery, leaning nonchalantly with other crowd members as they entered the busiest section of the market. Tulip and Eier kept their distance and hid themselves flush against a nearby wall, trying not to stick out to the group as much as possible.

Even then, Tulip could see N'Kamba and Germaine begin their discussion, N'Kamba excitedly and good naturally grasping his hand.Germaine returned the greeting and the two took a seat out of Tulip's view.

"I've got eyes on N'Kamba, moving forward for a better vantage point," Förster said, making his way along the stalls and appearing as just another shopper. Edging closer to the corner of the wall, Tulip could see one of N'kamba's men get agitated, glancing towards the same area of the markets. Fortunately N'Kamba had yet to notice, but he would soon enough if the guard kept up at it.

"Förster, I think one of N'Kamba's men has made you, fall back." Tulip edged even further along the wall, preparing his weapon for combat. Now the other guards were noticing the firsts behavior and tapped N'Kamba's shoulder. Förster took a second to consider his position and started walking back away from the group, but before he got far shots were heard as N'Kamba's men started opening fire on Förster.

"Sheiße, I've been made! The HVT knows we're here!" Förster shouted over comms. Tulip rounded the corner and fired three rounds at the group, catching one guard in the shoulder. As they group began to make their way out, Germaine and Berg flipped the table for cover and opened fire on the guards. One man dropped to the ground as a bloody mist came from the back of his head, courtesy of Germaine's handgun. Before he could take another shot, a guard opened fire with his machine pistol, tearing through the thin table and catching Berg in his leg.

A shot from Förster silenced the gun's spray and another guard dropped dead. The remainder of the Black Lions quickly exited the once bustling square, pushing their way through the now panicking crowd. Tulip ran to Germaine, pushing through the crowd when they were refused to make a gap for the armed men. He looked over Berg as Germaine held his vantage at where the Lions left.

"All right toughen up Berg, it just passed through your leg, you'll be fine. Germaine, did you see where they left?"

"Yes, they heading towards the alleyways that connect to the Oldtown quarter. Lots of rundown buildings and slums from refugees created during the war," he responded. Förster came up to the group, covering the angle as well.

"I'm sorry captain, I should've been more-"

"Cut it Förster, we'll deal with this in debrief. For now, take Berg and link up with Lüwe. Germaine, Eier, on me. All other teams begin making your way towards Oldtown. Lüwe can you give me an idea of where they are with the AA-9?"

"Yes sir. They're heading westward and cutting through the slums on foot, there's a large apartment complex at the end of the road they're on, and my money is on them taking shelter inside."

"Good work," Tulip said as he and the two others followed the route N'Kamba had. He activated his comm once more as they began to leave the market.

"You catch all that Spook?" The guardsman didn't say anything, but his tac-watch showed an affirmative response from his device. Good enough I suppose, he thought and continued on his way.

"Local authorities are on their way captain, so I suggest we make haste in capturing N'Kamba," Lüwe informed. The trio ran through dank and muddy alleyways and through the still damaged slums of Bourdae. They ran into the parking lot of the apartment complex that Lüwe had mentioned earlier and took cover behind one of the cars. As the other teams made their way to them Tulip commed Lüwe.

"Lüwe, call in the VA-3 and scan the complex. I want to know where N'Kamba is exactly and capture him before the local officers get here."

The VA-3, or Vögel Augen 3, was a newly designed drone using experimental technology first seen in the Razonican war. When the Entente forces had made it to the Druignan Mountains in Eastern Razonica, they found an extensive and considerable complex of fortifications, gun emplacements and natural barriers stopping their advance into the Razonican heartland, and would spend nearly the rest of the war attempting to breach the mountain defenses. Germerian soldiers had eventually resorted to tearing off spare seismic and sonar equipment from abandoned vehicles and stations and fashioning them into crude sonar mappers in order to find and map the Razonican bunkers, which often times went more than 150 feet deep into the mountain ground. While the earliest versions of these mappers had been barely able to map out hallways and stairwells, significant improvements had been made so that now objects as simple as a tv remote could be detected.

However, the equipment still did not have enough clarity to accurately trace and identify similarly sized objects, and being cut down to be mobile enough to be attached to a drone capable of flight meant the quality had deteriorated further, but the tactical advantage that it gave even in this stripped state couldn't be understated for the soldiers of SOFT. Lüwe hovered the drone barely over the top of the complex and activated the sonar. On another monitor, the vague and hazy shapes of many objects came to life as the sonar waves bounced throughout the complex.

"Alright captain, I've got a lot of fuzziness coming through, but there's three blobs I can make out going to the top of the complex. Seems like a lot of civilian movement is going down as well, I'll keep you updated when N'Kamba stops moving."

With that, Tulip and the others entered the building, covering as many angles as they could. Once they reached the second floor, a flood of civilians came down upon them, squashing them to the sides of the hall and staircases as they rushed to the bottom. Pushing and shoving their way through, they made it to the upper floors, mercifully free of life and continued their sweep. By the time they reached the 15th floor, helicopter blades could be heard in the distance.

"Captain, I've got bad news. That helicopter isn't Bourdaean, if you don't hurry N'Kamba could get away! He's only three floors above you now, and only five floors to the roof!" Lüwe's distressed voice came over the comms. Tulip ignored the panic and kept focus, doubling his speed to catch up. Up one more flight and he could see one of the guards. He shouldered his weapon and fired one round, and saw the guard clutch at his throat and fall from sight. The other guard pushed N'Kamba along and fired down the staircase. A shot came from below him, Eier most likely, and the guard dropped alongside his compatriot.

The other members of SOFT sprinted up the stairs as fast they could, and the blades became deafeningly loud even inside the buildings. They made it to the last floor and could see N'Kamba move through the different rooms in an attempt to find a way up with no one to stop him. They dashed through through the rooms but N'Kamba was always out of sight or one room ahead, and the helicopter was even louder than before.

"He's going to get away!" shouted Eier. Tulip made another dash through the rooms but N'Kamba was nearing an exit two rooms down. Tulip cursed but before he could move a voice sounded through their comms.

"No he won't." A woman?!

Bu Tulip hadn't time to think before a figure crashed through the wall next to N'Kamba, knocking him down and pinning him to the floor. Tulip immediately identified the newcomer as a member of the Imperial Guard, but not the one they had grown to know, who was most definitely male. The new Guard looked to them and motioned to the roof.

"We should get moving, that chopper is one of ours." Yes, that was definitely the voice f a woman. Tulip shook it off, instead following her instructions moving towards the roof, N'Kamba in tow, and jumped on the chopper heard before, which was manned by the guardsman that Tulip had known in his stay in Bourdae. The helicopter rose away from the hotel and into the city, blending in with the many news helicopters now arriving on the scene.
[h]
March 15th, 2019
Scainish Island of Rully, Royal Palace
10 a.m.

Cynthia von Göthe wasn't particularly looking forward to her new assignment as Germeria's appointed ambassador to Scain, what with the all of the recent political turmoil and the Commonwealth peacekeeping to restore order, but the Kaiser himself had personally recruited her for the job, so she would make sure that Germeria's interest in the small nation would be carried out as effectively as possible.

[Peoples Republic of New Scotland]

NSFIA Black Site, Viobo, Tadbu
Unknown date
Unknown time

D'donga had spent the eternity floating in a endless void of impossible colors and improbable shapes. He spent his time laughing at colored demonic entities and crying at shades of green. He had no idea where he was, how long he was there, and had no idea who he was at times. All he knew was that he was suddenly thrust into this void of horrifying bliss. Just as suddenly as he was thrown into this void he fell out of it. D'donga spent what seemed like hours adjusting to what felt like reality. He was sitting in a dark room in what he thought was strapped to the same chair he was in earlier however this time he could move. He heard the same voice from earlier repeating the same things. "Tadbu. Black. Lions. Tadbu. Robert. N'Kamba. Tadbu." His peaceful return to reality was broken by a blinding white light and a sudden stop of the voice recording.

"Good morning D'donga how's it going?" It was that same "Sal" figure from before. D'dong refused to respond,

"The silent type eh? I thought you were better than that. Anyway how was your trip?" D'donga was silent.

"You think I'm joking don't you? You were given doses of LSD for the past week which would explain whatever you saw. The lab boys thought it would make you more receptive to our questions." It was at this point that D'donga's eyes began to adjust to the light. 'Sal' was wearing all black including a black ski mask hiding his facial features.

"See I never thought the lab boys knew what they were talking about. They never experienced torture. I have so I'm going to give you a simple choice. Work with us and we'll send you back to a nice house out side of Edinburgh with your daughter or don't work with us and you'll be tortured and the only time you'll see your daughter again is at her funeral. Let's hope it's open casket."

D'donga was stunned he assumed they had his daughter but found the idea of them hurting her to be unthinkable. She was a child killing her is a war crime!

"I'll give you some time to think it over. In the meantime I have some security pictures for you." Sal threw a series of photos on D'donga's lap and angled the light down so he could see them. Sal turned and left back into the darkness of the room around him. D'donga looked at the pictures on his lap to see that they were pictures of his daughter.

NSA Base Camp James IV, Outside of Viobo, Tadbu
March 5th, 2019
11:00 am NSST

The 202nd Air Cav company made good time flying out from Base Camp. They had been in the air for close to two hours before arriving at they're destination. When they touched down McKlusky and his men Jumped out of they're helicopters before waving them back off. The area was covered in craters from a previous bombing run and the stench of burning grass and hair was in the air. McKlusky gathered his men to relay the mission.

"Ok boys here's the plan. We have to get to the top of hill 625 5 klicks north of here. Once there we can relay the position and command will send supplies and men to begin constructing a FOB. intelligence has no idea if there are any Black Lions in the jungle between here and there so we're going to split up into three platoons. Platoons Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie. Alpha will flank 1 kilometer to the left of 625, Bravo will push 1 kilometer to the right. I will take up Charlie and push right up the center. I want to maintain constant radio contact and I will maintain contact with Command. Sound Good?"

There were no complaints from the company.

"Good. Gear up and move out!" Mcklusky's Platoon began to push into the jungle.

The march through the jungle was uneventful. The platoon reached the base of 625 when McKlusky Ordered his men to halt. "Radioman get up here everyone else get down!" A soldier carrying a radio pack came up to the front of the Platoon. McKlusky grabbed the radio headset. "Platoon 2-1 and 2-2 this is 2-3 do you copy? Repeat: Platoon 2-1 and 2-2 do you copy?" Affirmatives crackled over the radio. "Platoon 2-1 and 2-2 hold up. What's your status?"

"All quiet here 2-3"

"Seconded 2-3"

"Platoons 2-1 and 2-2 wait one." McKlusky said.
McKlusky took the head seat and turned back to his squad. Flamer move forward and let out a 2 second stream infront of us. A soldier carrying a flamethrower got up and ran to the front of the squad just when the radio crackled out.

"2-2 and 2-3 this is 2-1 we have confirmed contact! Repeat: we have confirmed contact!" Tracers flew from the jungle followed by the crack of the 74-KA. The flamethrower's tank was struck resulting in a ear-splitting explosion. "Take cover!" McKlusky shouted. His men dived into the jungle and began to return fire. McKlusky put back on the headset and dialed the radio to the command frequency. "Command this is X-Ray seven Delta we have strong enemy presence we need immediate reinforcement and fire support, over!" The radio crackled with a reply from command.

"Scrambling reinforcement company X-Ray Seven Delta can you confirm gird mark, over?"

"Command, Grid mark 77052 1 klick from 625 hill top 2 klicks from dropzone. Be advised support will be danger-close over!"

"Roger command calling fire mission half a klick north of your position. Sit tight and wait for reinforcements, out."

McKlusky gave the order to dig in until reinforcements could arrive. He picked up his own rifle and began to return fire into the jungle.

[Claudiopolis]

Port Moneta d'oro, Claudiopolis
April 14, 2019 11:00 A.M

Manius and Commander Aero' arrives to Moneta d'oro to meet up with a supplier that was sent by the Legation Cities. Commander Aero' made sure that some protection was in place in case this was to be an assassination attempt but Manius believes that this deal is actually suppose to be what it is and that is a friendly deal.

"Make sure you have the perimeter contained, we don't want anyone getting in or out until the deal goes through" Commander Aero says as he talks over the radio. Manius turns the corner where the supplier should be; There was a man standing there with a book in his hand reading the recent new hit "Ways to make the World Greener". The Man looks up and smiles, this must be the supplier.

"You must be Edward Griffin, the supplier from Port Arthur" Manius says as he reach out his hand and shakes Edwards hand.

"Yes sir, but most importantly, did you bring the upfront cash? and if you did, the advisers will be arriving shortly to help train troops however we had to decrease the number of them since we don't want to be traced, so the other will arrive slowly over a six month period." Edward says as he pulls his hand away and waits for Manius to signal three soldiers to bring forth fives case full of cash.

"We agreed on a 50%-75% right? Because I've brought 75% of the total cost, however if it's less than that, I'll hold as mush as I need back, if possible" Manius says as he holds one of the cases with the cash in them. Edward grabs a small notebook out of his coat and flips through its contents and stops at a page.

"We had agreed on a payment of 75% of the total cost upfront, which should be around $325,000,000 to $375,000,000 and once the war is done, you'll pay the remaining 25% and bring back all advisers to the Legation Cities within a five month period after the war for the cash and an immediate return for the advisers. Also I do expect that these advisers will be safe once they are under your care, I presume?" Edwards says as he close his notebook and holds out his hand waiting for Manius to pass over the cases.

The two soldiers and Manius hands over the cases to Edward who then calls for his assistant to come over and count one of the case to see if the money is real. Commander Aero then tells the other soldiers to begin breaking formation and start the transportation back to Hansable.

"Sir, we really only have about four hours before you public speech, we need to hurry this ordeal now so we can make it back with some time to spare" Commander Aero says as he begins to walk away. Edward assistant gives the good sign and Edwards looks at Manius and waves, leaving without a word and disappears into the port as it begins to reopen after the soldiers cleared out. A Transport vehicle arrives and Manius gets into the vehicle and is greeted by Romas.

"It's nice to see you again my good sir, it's been a bit since we've spoke" Romas says as Manius sits down.

"I have no time for your plans right now, I'm running a bit late to make it to Hansable and give my Public speech to help with the war" Manius says as he pulls out his Phone and look at the time, it was 11:35 A.M of the West Vestila Time-zone. Romas looks at Manius with concern in his eyes and gives a cough to get Manius attention.

"I think you might want to reschedule the speech for another day, I have a bad feeling that today isn't that day to be out in the Public, especially since we just recently gain back our grounds in the war" Romas says as Manius gives him a odd look.

"What do you mean reschedule the speech, the people has been waiting for the longest time to hear how our progress is going and how we might just win our independence from Plyric that's why I went ahead and got the weapons deal from the Legation Cities and once we win this war, we'll have all the cash to pay the other 25%. Also, I can't tell the people to wait anymore, they probably set up and is waiting for the Council to give great news of our nation succeeding this dreaded civil war" Manius says as he puts his phone away and looks out of his car window as they are heading towards Hansable.

"Alright, I just had that feeling that today wasn't the day that you should continue this effort, but if something bad happens to you, I could just say I told you so, if you don't die" Romas says as Manius still looking at him in an odd way.

"I'll keep in mid of those words after the speech, but I doubt that anything is going to happen, besides the people actually giving us the support we needed all this time, and finally put a stop on this dreaded civil war" Manius said with a confident sounding voice. Romas just shakes his head and begins to look out into the Claudian plains, starting to see the tundra just a bit ahead as the ground starts to grow harder and more grayish like than what looks to be around the port cities, where the grounds is softer and farms can actually grow crops, but not enough for the whole continent where both Plyric and Claudio resides in.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Aeon, Claudiopolis
March 16 2019 12:20 A.M

Liam, Lewis and the others has a cargo truck surrounded and has guns aimed at the truck awaiting orders from Liam and Lewis.

"Listen buddy, we just want to talk, now if you would kindly get out of the truck and walk towards us so that we can see you, but don't try to call the cops, or we'll shoot you" Lewis says as he gives the trigger-men the order to shoot if the driver does anything "funny".

The driver slowly gets out and walks over to Lewis, who is now next to the back of the truck. The driver looks very afraid and is shaking, but he is also holding a ring of keys, the driver looks to be a man of the age 20 or so, kinda young, but not too young. Lewis tells him to open the back and see if this was the right truck. The driver starts to use many different keys and most of them is not working and this begins to try Lewis patience.

"Lewis, don't try anything stupid, Lady Mira said not innocent blood must be spilled unless the most absolute action is needed. Because if you kill that man, I'll have to do what she had told me, "Finish off the Offender" and I hate to have to put down a childhood friend of mine" Liam says as he looks at Lewis with a stern look.

"Don't worry about this, she said nothing about beating the hell out of someone though, and I do have that feeling I might just have to do that very soon, if this idiot does not hurry the hell up and open the back of the truck" Lewis says as he tries to hold back some anger. The driver finally finds the key that opens the back of the truck and opens the doors. Liam comes around the corner to see what's inside and what they see is what they are looking for the Heroin shipment that is disguised under "medical and science equipment". Lewis gives the signal for the trigger-men to start unloading all of the packaging and start to load it up into the trucks that they brought with them.

"Liam, Lady Mira will be happy that we finally found the shipment, this is enough to start selling to buyers who will buy at very high prices. We'll finally help the Pisani family and might just become a Made-man for the Family, I've always wanted to be apart of a family that actually cares for me" Lewis says as he begins to help the trigger-men.

"I wouldn't keep high hopes for all of that, you're part Plyrican and Claudian and you're not a full blooded Claudian, so Lady Mira might just make you something else of the family, but not a Made-man" Liam says as he walks over to Lewis and helps him with the unloading.

Lewis didn't show sign of unwavering doubt, but he does seem to start to give less effort than before,but the driver then says something that brought fear to both Liam and Lewis.

"Umm do y'all know that this was from the Sount Vestila Company, right? If I don't get the job done, they'll be asking questions and I dunno if I can keep quiet for free, maybe $300 can keep me quiet for say or a little more, but no less" The Driver said.

"Lewis, did Lady Mira say anything about the South Vestila Company being apart of this? Because if we just done this, we might've started war with the cartel and possible just gave us more attention" Liam says as he begins to tell the trigger-men to hurry up with the unloading.

Lewis then pulls out his pistol while the driver was looking away and shot the man two times, both bullets landed in the poor man's skull and his lifeless body hits the cement. Liam turn around and immediately aims his gun at Lewis.

"Liam, put the gun away, and let me explain my action before you shoot. I had reasonable doubt about this getting to the cartel because if this driver would've said something, we'll all be screwed and Lady Mira might just have us killed to prevent a war, but now since the driver is dead, the saying goes "Dead men tell no tales", so we don't have to worry about a blabbermouth" Lewis says as Liam still has his gun out.

"Fine, but I'm bring you to Lady Mira after this and you'll have to explain this situation to her, but first we need to deal with the truck and now the driver and you're dealing with the corpse, I'm not" Liam says as he grabs the keys off the ground and walks into the driver side and starts up the truck.

Lewis digs a deep hold and throws the corpse into, while trying to make sure that no-one will find this spot. Liam tells the trigger-men to go ahead of them and deliver the drugs to Lady Mira and keep n guard till he and Lewis gets there and be ready if she gives orders to rid Lewis or don't worry at all. But the cartel isn't just alone, they got the McCulkan family supporting the cartel, or at least what Liam remembers, but the news may make Lady Mira and her Grandmother really angry.

[Novo Razcon]

3/9/19
1000 km SE of Libero, capital of Portaval,
Novo Razcon

Over a sky of pink turning blue, a brilliant yellow sun began to take its shift over Elvarya, shining its light across the desert of Aldes. Over a cliff, a scout in jade military fatigues with binoculars pressed over his face scanned the barren landscape, checking it to make sure the region is clear for a march up to Libero, capital of the Novo Razconian Administrative Region of Portaval. From there, the field army of which he is a member could make a beeline for the military bases of the Raven Islands and strike a blow on the power of the oppressive, overseeing government under the Supreme Leader. Suddenly, a noise catches his ears and drills its way in. At first, he hears it as the standard noise a jet engine makes, but it then grows into something else entirely. The man's breathing suddenly grows heavier, his heartbeat accelerating with the scream-like noise. He throws the binoculars from his face and scans the nearby sands for an anti-aircraft gun. The noise is one from a Novo Razconian jet fighter, specifically designed to sound terrifying to enemies. Being exposed to it also seems to bear the effects of spontaneous urination and/or bowel movements, but the scout was immune to this. In a jerking motion, he tears the backpack from his body and pulls out a machine gun, pointing frantically pointing it at the sky in hopes of finding something at which to shoot. Reaching a climax in their screams, a flight of aircraft under the Novo Razconian Air Forced rushed several kilos overhead, moving southeast. After frantically unloading a few rounds upwards, struggling to shoot them down without the proper munitions to do so, the man fumbles to turn on his radio system. With a shouting, terrified voice, he rapidly orates,

"SIR, A FLIGHT OF... TWO... AN ENTIRE SQUADRON OF BOMBERS MOVING SOUTHEAST! Looks like they'll be on top of our camp in 10 minutes. Sir, please tell me you're already marching on Libero!"

"Relax, Funar. We're already on the move. Did you seriously think we didn't assume those damned Blackheads would try killing us in our sleep? You can rest easy. The Ever-Parents are with us. Libero will be ours within days, Novo Razcon by the end of the year." The confident voice of the commander of the scout, Constantine Funar, replies.

"Thank the Ever-Parents you're safe. I think I'm gonna need a moment to get my heartbeat back to normal. The screams from those jets sound like literal Hell." Funar says, pausing to inhale and exhale between sentences. Regaining strength, he chose to make a prayer to Aaslar and Luai, the Ever-Father and Ever-Mother, to guarantee the quick and bloodless victory for the Forces of Laerolk.

Roughly an hour later, that same day

A victory would come, but it was certainly not bloodless. The Novo Razconian encirclement was a killer success. With mighty jaws of machinery, the Novo Razconian war machine surrounded the army on three sides, sending a rain of explosives into it with great fervor.

"RETREAT!" One of the highest ranked generals shouted, calling for the Forces of Laerolk to retreat to a defensive outpost a few kilos away.

Nearly two hundred thousand boots scrambled away from the Novo Razconians, the diamond-hard-disciplined soldiers and machine pilots gunning them down at every opportunity. With the speeds at which the Novo Razconians were firing, the mass tactical retreat found itself against a backdrop of smoke, gore, and flying debris, vocalized by a chorus sung by cries of agony and rage from those under the Ever-Parents.

"HOLY SHI---"

"EVER-PARENTS, HELP ME!"

"I SEE THE LIGHT! MAMA, IS THAT YOU?"

"FOR LAEROLK!" (Said before at least one soldier attempted to take out the black-draped soldiers in a makeshift kamikaze)

"TELL MY CHILDREN I LOVE THEM!"

Fortunately for the soldiers, a stream of both gunfire and rocketfire came from the direction in which they were running, hitting the Blackheads and disabling more than a dozen of their combat vehicles. The ensuing retaliatory strike managed to spare the Laerolkians several dozen grains of sand in an hourglass due to Novo Razcon's being distracted, which the FoL used to set up machine gun nests along a divide on the flat expanse. On the higher end came charging soldiers from the Empire, and on the lower end were the Forces of Laerolk, digging in to prepare for a defensive mission. The Novo Razconians were required to turn back due to the realizations of superiors on how the war would later unfold, and the Laerolkians collectively sighed in relief for this temporary refuge from the barbarians. However, neither side could claim supremacy, and it would be a long while before that would come to be.

3-31-19

Three long weeks of warfare passed. The Laerolkians spend their time praying to the Ever-Parents for safety, repairing whatever equipment they could, scrambling for cover at the sounds of Novo Razconian bombers overhead, and defending their outpost, their line in the sand, with every ounce of every soldier they could. It's not like they could go back. Even if they surrendered, the Treason Act spelled out their deaths in red tape. Meanwhile, the Novo Razconians were attempting to break the line using their "Lightning Warfare" strategy, in which they'd bomb their enemies from overhead before using combat vehicles and infantry to clear the area and conquer it. However, their bombers, in spite of raining bombs like a hailstorm, couldn't break the steel will of the enemies, who miraculously succeeded in shooting some of the bombers down or otherwise preventing the explosives from doing much damage. If one were to take a gaze into the earthworks, they'd see that a surprising majority of it was packed under the earth rather than the sky. After the bombings and a yell of "CHARGE!", hundreds of war machines backed by thousands of men scrambled across the front to take the outpost, only to be gunned down or forced to a stalemate by the Laerolkians, leading both sides back to their sides of the battlefield. Akin to a clock, this cycle repeated day after day, night after night. However, minor skirmishes and standoffs between two sides hiding for safety behind rocks, dismantled machines, or any other concealment and returning fire whenever possible, dotted the hell-blasted battlefield as a complement to the main lines.

Meanwhile, in the local Novo Razconian Base, that night

"Alright boys, our rotation strategy isn't working. It's been three weeks, and the bastards still haven't snapped. What happened to us?" General de Paulle asked two of his fellow commanders, throwing his arms onto the table.

"Not sure, but I think we'll be able to break them any day now," Corporal Huiman declared optimistically, giving a solute to the General

"Don't be such a yes-man, Huiman. Why don't we try to encircle them again like when this battle started?" Lieutenant Pessim barked.

"Good plan, Lieutanant. Now, let's work out the logistics before implement it. If we pull an all-nighter, we should be done by daybreak," de Paulle ordered, rolling out a map of the local territory for the trio to begin ironing out a proper battle plan for their men.

"Let's kick these Melonheads up the arse and into their graves!" Huiman enthusiastically spoke, letting his accent grow heavy.

"Anything to get this war over with as quick as possible," Pessim agreed.

4/1/19

"SOLDIERS, WE SHALL SURROUND THEM FROM ALL SIDES! ALL OF YOU KNOW YOUR STATIONS! CHARGE!"

At this command, nearly 100,000 charged across the searing desert battlefield to ambush the 80,000 still in the outpost.

"Looks like they're coming at us from all sides! What do we do, sir?" One of the Laerolkian machine gunners asked one of his superiors, letting the cannon free of his grasp like a bull.

"Maintain fire. Our reinforcements will come soon." The superior instructed, firing a few mortars into the enemy charge before commanding, "No matter what anyone does, we will never surrender!"

Like an inferno doused with gasoline, the fighting grew and evolved into a savage struggle, both sides desperate to end things in their favor. Wherever fighters could get close enough to lock fists, vicious melee confrontations broke out, with at least ten men lying on the floor, their clothes stained with dirt and blood with more of the crimson liquid oozing from gashes in their bodies from the blades of bayonets and knives. Where there was still distance between opposing soldiers, projectiles flew from one side to the other like drops of rain in a hurricane, with soldiers on both sides in a hot-blooded frenzy to kill their enemies using whatever methods they could conjure that obeyed the rules of warfare. After nearly an hour of this feral fighting, the defensive line of the Laerolkians finally broke.

"THEIR LINES ARE BREAKING! KILL THEM UNTIL THEY SURRENDER!" shouted one of the higher-ranked men fighting for the current government on the front lines. According to common sense, the highest-ranked military commanders found themselves confined to military stations worlds away from the warzones due to concerns about their being too valuable to risk a visit from Thanatos. Amidst the savage bloodshed, a communications officer for the Laerolkians managed to pick up a transmission,

"The second ring is forged. Forge the third." A soldier on the battlefield speaks in code to avoid the prying ears of the men in black before a stray bullet dug itself into his chest.

"Copy that." the communicator responds before resting his index finger on a scarlet button and relaying the message to another Laerolkian army division.

Back at the battlefront, a stampede of Laerolkians surrounded the battlefront, flanking the Novo Razconians on both sides.

"MEN, IF WE LOSE, WE WILL KILL EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE PIGS WE CAN BEFORE WE DIE! TAKE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE DOGS WITH YOU TO THE GRAVE!" A Novo Razconian general shouted in defiance of the enclosing Greenshirts.

[Krustevland]

05/28/2019

---

---

The Crippled Peace
C-130's of the Hanagan Self Defense Forces

---

At the blue sea of the Pyik Sea, where the sky is blue a fierce stand off takes place between the 150 Strong Arkhonian Navy and the smaller Hanagan Naval Self Defense Force and Air Self Defense Force face off in the Pyik Sea due to the large Military Movement from Arkhon which sent 150 Ships to "Secure Trade" in the Pyik Sea. Uninformed and Unaware of their goals these 2 nations stand face to face ready to fire in the Pyik Sea, if one of their ships or planes fire at one another it could mean war. The standoff has been ongoing for a Few Days and trade has all but stopped in the Pyik Sea over this massive show of force resulting in Billions of revenue being lost. Back in the capital New Kyoto men in their 30's to 70's argue against one another on how they should respond to any further buildup of Arkhonian or Caeronian forces. These men have the choice of Death or Destruction, the Existence of the State or the Pride of the Nation. Either way the populace are demanding a response to this, the Far Right call this a Act of Aggression, the Far Left demand that the Government Attacks, while the Moderates say that there can be a middle ground or a compromise between the 2 nations.

At the mainland sits 200,000 Soldiers of the Self Defense Forces and Hundreds of thousands more Paramilitary Groups and hardline Royalists, ready to answer the call in the case of the war coming to Hanagan shores. The Military and the nation has been put into full alert ever since this crisis had begun, and if there's no resolution some people feat that the military will make the choice of War or Peace, the Emperor says that there can be a peaceful resolution to this problem. But some say that the only way to get out of this problem is war, now it's the 7th Day. The Emperor and Prime Minister has declared that Arkhon is simply mad in having to send 150 ships into the Pyik Sea and near the Eagle Islands which is a location spread around the South and Central Pyik Sea in which where Hanaga controls with a Military and Civilian presence. The Government says that should Arkhon do any actions against it's citizens or even against any form of Hanagan Presence will be met as a act of war and will be met with retaliation.

The Hanagan Air Self Defense Force has conducted buzzes over Arkhonian Ships keeping up the tension in the Pyik Sea, while some Arkhonian ships that have gone too close to Hanagan Waters were met with warning shots and for submersible vehicles Training Depth Charges, meanwhile Hanaga's Ground Self Defense Forces has deployed Ballistic Missiles and a couple of Cruise Missiles on the North to give the Arkhonians a scare in the case they attempt to do any form of trespassing into the Mainland. Interceptions of Arkhonian Planes are also common along with Arkhonian Transports being tailed by Hanagan Air Self Defense Force planes. The clock is ticking and time to negotiate is closing, war seems to be encroaching on Pyik and with New Skotland and Nerodamus a war with Hanaga will be costly for Arkhon and for Hanaga.

[Peoples Republic of New Scotland]

Unregistered airfield, Sal Island, Scain
03/09/19
10:00 PM NSST

The flight to Scain was uneventful. The coalition had locked down the airspace over the islands rather quickly. As the plane was registered under the New Scottish Airforce they were left alone. After refueling NSFIA pilot Michael Cullen waited for his contact. He sat there in the dark in the cockpit of the D-260 transport plane re-reading his mission dossier to pass the time. Occasionally he could make out the sound of distant explosions. Michael assumed they were the coalition. "Ah yes policing with bombs and gas. Classic international cooperation." He mused. As Michael was about to re-read the dossier for a fourth time a voice came out over the radio.


"Asset Delta-niner please prepare for fast exfil we have priority one package inbound. How copy?"


"Contact this is Delta-niner we copy. Out."

Michael motioned to his co-pilot to begin the flight sequence. Michael got up and went to the cargo ramp and started the hydraulics. The hydraulics quietly whirred as the ramp descended. As the ramp finished opening two grey SUVs came out of the foliage and raced to a stop behind the plane. The driver's side window rolled down to reveal a woman in a bullet-proof vest with an ear-piece. "Asset Delta-niner once the package is on board you are to take off and maintain strict radio silence until you hit Tadbu." Michael nodded that he understood. Out of both SUVs several robed Scainish people emerged. Michael remembered from his dossier that the package was supposed to be high-level Scainish politicians. He didn't, however, expect to be transporting the high council itself. The council members boarded the plane and began to take seats. The ramp began to close and Michael rushed back up to the cockpit.

NSFIA Black Site, Viobo, Tadbu
Unknown date
Unknown time

D'donga had spent hours contemplating what to do. Should he turn in the best chance for the freedom of his homeland for his daughter? Or should he save her and forsake the cause? He had made up his mind. He sat in silence waiting for 'Sal' to come back. Again he heard the door open at the end of his cell and 'Sal' emerged.


"Well D'donga have you made up your mind?"

"Yes. I'll tell you what you want. But I want to hear from her first!"

Sal sighed. "Well I knew the ruse would wear off eventually." Sal pulled out several photographs and handed them to D'donga. "We had to... dispose of her. I suppose you won't cooperate now right?" D'donga was so shocked he couldn't even muster words. All he could do was shout incoherently.
"Shut the fuck up you fucking Taddie shit!" Sal yelled. He motioned to one of the walls. "Bring in the party cart."

The door opened up and a man in a lab coat brought in a wheeled cart with a car battery, towel, an assortment of knives, and jugs of water. Sal peered right into D'donga's eyes and grabbed him by his chin.

"Do you know what we do with aggressive dogs? We neuter them. It reduces aggressions by taking away the source of hormones or some shit. I don't know I'm not a veterinarian. But... I know it works. So what do you want?"


D'donga spit in his face.

"How fucking cliché." Sal wiped his face and tightened D'donga's restraint. Off of the cart he pulled a scalpel. "Let's get down to business."

NSA Base Camp James IV, Outside of Viobo, Tadbu
March 5th, 2019
1:36 pm NSST

The firefight had been raging for a while when the support finally arrived. McKlusky could hear the two jets screaming over head. He yelled to his men to get down as the jet's payloads detached. A line of fire burst from the jungle charring both Black Lions and McKlusky's men alive. The napalm stuck to trees and clothing.

"Fuck!" McKlusky yelled. "Fall back! Fall the fuck back!" The men grabbed the wounded and they gear and began to run back the way they came. The survivors of the 202nd made it halfway back to their entry point before McKlusky ordered them to stop in a clearing.

"Medics! Take the wounded to the center of the clearing. Platoon 2-1 set up camp. Platoon 2-2 start setting up defensive positions we don't know if they'll come after us. 2-3 Will run look out for now. And get me a god damn radio man here now!."

A soldier with a radio pack came up to him. "Sir" he saluted. McKlusky waved him off and took the radio pack from him. He radioed command.

"Command this is X-ray Seven Delta what is the ETA for our reinforcements? Over."

"X-ray Seven Delta please wait one." There was a static from the radio. "X-Ray Seven Delta ETA is an hour. Over"

"Alright command please advise the support that we have moved back from point of contact roughly 2 kilometers. There is a clearing hear to land helicopters. We also have wounded we need them to evac. Over."

"Understood X-ray Seven Delta I will advise. Out."

McKlusky put down the radio and ran over to help with the defensive positions.

Command was wrong. It only took half an hour for the reinforcements to arrive. Several helicopters touched down and more men got off board. They were being led by a Colonel who was decked out in the traditional blue war paint. The Colonel ran over to McKlusky shouting to the medics to load up the wounded to the helicopters.

"Captian McKlusky, I'm Colonel Julius Atholl we're here to support your attack." The blue-faced Colonel extended his hand. McKlusky ignored it.

"Sir we got hit pretty hard by a surprise attack and command hit us pretty badly with napalm. We got some of them but I think it would be best to set up camp before trying to go up again."

The Colonel thought for a minute. "Yeah you're probably right. My men will aid you in setting up camp but in the meantime I need you to gather some volunteers I'm gonna need half a platoon of your men and half a platoon of mine."

"Sir for what reason?" McKlusky asked.

"We need to take the hill to get better view over the region. We can't do that from here so I'm going to lead a night mission. Are you in?"

McKlusky nodded and went off to gather some volunteers.

[Novo Razcon]

6/18/19
Royal Palace, Novo Razcon City

It was around mid-day, with the golden hot disc elevated at a direct ninety-degree angle over the country. As the Legions tore through the lesser provinces of the state with the loyal government hot on their heels through mud, mountain, and sand, with both sides struggling to control the regions for their ideologies, the Prince of Novo Razcon and head of the current state called a meeting of himself and his Ministers to discuss a victory for their government in this Civil War.

"I don't get it, I give the people of this glorious country everything Laerolk didn't in terms of freedoms, and yet support for the Legions skyrockets. Part of my reason for the democratic reforms was specifically to invalidate the war the Legions are perpetrating, so why is this happening?" The Prince asked his advisors after his eyes soaked in a series of graphs in front of him showing the lowered public opinion of him.

"Your Highness, according to the Ministry of Media's reports, people seem to dislike you because..." Minister of Media Tyron Vasin began, pausing to hand a new report to the Prince before continuing, "they see you as a weak man, reliant on the international community for support in an issue you should be capable of solving with a powerful and controlling government, except that your reforms have weakened the government's power. Also, they supported a head-chopping lunatic."

"Yes, but an authoritarian dictatorship such as the one before the reforms has received criticism from the international community, namely Dormior, Scain, and San Laozan," Minister of the Military Alexander Petat flatly replied, "And we do not need the rest of Elvarya on our arses with the crisis in Hanaga and our Civil War. I hope to Aalsar that we don't end up being used as a launching base against our will when war breaks out. We've been predicting this for several weeks. "

"Perhaps we could have a constitutional dictatorship as a compromise; Prince Jason Lee I returns to being a powerful dictator but has power restrained by a constitution, we gain approval from the rebels and end the war on a major scale, and we can do some sort of damage control with the international community by explaining the constitutionality of the regime and condemning Laerolk's decapitations. What do you think, Your Highness?" Vasin proposed as a compromise between the two sides.

Sending his fingers marching on his head in contemplation wondering just how anyone even supported Laerolk or his ideology ever, the Prince responded, "Having seen the devastation this war has brought on our people and economy, including damage to several major cities, and having heard suggestions from Aelstun and Edinburgh, I agree with Vasin's idea, but I will sleep on it before presenting it and the idea for negotiations with the rebels to Parliament. Good night, men."

[Varumia]

February 15th, 2019
9:45 a.m.
Reichstag Assembly, Raegaron, Varumia

"-Outrageous! The gall you have to divert critical funding from welfare-"

"Hah, 'welfare'! More like lining your pockets!"

"Gentlemen please! We all know the real enemy here are foreigners-"

"Who is it this time Clemencuay? The Razorians or the Neroians? Next you'll say our next door neighbor is a 'foreigner'-"

It took all of Septimius' fortitude to not audibly groan and slump in his seat at the head of the Reichstag. The volatile state of the lower house had started not long after the Reichskommissar's return from the Germerian Peace Ball, as the highly publicized event, ostensibly in the name of 'peace and reconciliation' had stoked many of the fires of the very passionate Reichstag members. Matters weren't helped by the already divisive nature of the legislature, with parties all across the political spectrum vying for dominance. Unfortunately for Septimius, he had decided to sit in for a session on a particularly bad day.

"Here we go again Septimius. Who do think will start it first, Clemencuay or Theussiers?"

The words were uttered by one the Sergeant-at-Arms, Louis Michelieu. Michelieu had been with Septimius since the first months of the Raeh Republic when war was waged against Razonica, and had stayed loyal to him through the civil war and up to the present day. While Septimius could hardly ask for a more loyal companion, save Jaesi, the man was a bit too brusque, even for the rather crude politics of Raegaron.

"Normally I'd go for Clemencuay, but Theussiers's face went red at 'welfare cuts'," Septimius responded, not even grudging up the effort to pull himself out of his slouch. Louis gave a small chuckle at his response, Septimius not usually being one for the small 'wagers' and bets the other man constantly made on the spot. The two men in question, Theussiers and Clemencuay, were almost complete opposites. Clemencuay was the leader of the Nationaliste Raeh Fraternite, was the boisterous reactionary, an outspoken patriot and a former military man who had fought with distinction against the Razonican army, and had even been personally commended and medalled by Nürnberg when he was still just an officer in the Germerian military. Clemencuay was also a pragmatist at heart and had placed his chips with the new government, and was open to violent methods to reach his goal, though it'd be a mistake to think him prone to it. Personally, Septimius thought him a good enough man, a bit stern but also immensely caring to his subordinates, but it was hard to forgive his participation in his father Octav's government during the civil war.

In contrast, Theussiers was much more docile. Heading the Republicain Socialiste, Theussiers was the figurehead for a wide range of leftist movements in Varumia, but was lacking in both Clemencuays energy and rhetoric and Nürnberg's authority and charisma. Despite this, he maintained a good enough hold over his flock, pushing for more moderate social democratic reforms closer to his own views than some of his more extreme supporters in the Reichstag. Theussiers was also a pacifist, disdaining combat in all forms save self defense and in uncharacteristic disgust, vehemently opposed Nürnberg's military rule, and his patriotism was more in line with internationalist thought. As a person, Septimius easily enjoyed his company over Clemencuay's, but his docility and lack of decisiveness would eventually burn him.

As Clemencuay started another tirade, ostensibly about the harmful influences of 'foreign' companies in Varumia, Septimius checked the clock stationed atop the main door heading into the chamber, anticipating the second he could call a break of session. Half a minute into Clemencuay's rant Septimius signaled Louis to break the session, who did so with the energy and earnest he always had.

Clemencuay sent a small glare his way for the snub, but Septimius ignored him as he fully reclined in his chair. He knew as far back as the foundation of the Republic that it would be an all-consuming job to manage and focus the Raeh people, but with the chaos of the civil war and the largely autocratic rule of Nürnberg damaging the very foundation of Raeh politics, he found it difficult to even get out of bed in the morning. He spied Jaesi amongst some of the Bundesrat observers in the upper portion of the chamber, who signaled him to meet outside in the hall. Technically, all members of the Bundesrat, the upper house, were barred from entering or observing the sessions of the Reichstag before it was aired to the public as a half-hearted attempt to give the appearance of integrity, but the skeleton crew that made up the legislative guards never stopped them from filling the upper rows.

Patting Louis on the shoulder, he made his way out into the hall, which was thankfully not congested with angry legislators just yet. Walking aways from the rapidly forming mass of suited bodies, he stumbled onto an unexpected sight.

"Guten tag, Herr Halbeck. Would you mind sitting here for a moment with me?" The smooth and polite voice of the Reichskommissar filled the small hallway where the two were situated. Nürnberg was seated at a small two chair table across from the stairway leading to the second floor, his military uniform neatly pressed and spotless despite the windy snows of the past few weeks. Several such tables were dotted across the rather long side corridor, a small reminder of the building's formal noble stature as a Ducal palace. Gingerly, Septimius took the offered seat.

"So, how's the state of things Herr Halbeck? The organs of government running smoothly despite the muck of Theussiers and Clemencuay?" Asked Nürnberg, a slight hint of derision entering his tone. Septimius took in stride, having gotten used to the older man's needling, instead reclining in his chair more gracefully than he had in the chamber.

"Why ask a question you already know the answer to? It's obvious that you sit in on the sessions, even if the high chair remains vacant. You know as well as I do that those two have come to a stalemate over another issue," he exasperated. Nürnberg tutted slightly, leaning one arm on the side of his chair and crossing his legs.

"Because it makes for good practice, jung Herr. Let me ask you this instead, when Theussiers was taking the spotlight, did you notice the Monarchiste idling by the Democratiques?"

Septimius furrowed his brow. He hadn't seen that occur, but the implications were worrisome.

"And? Even if the monarchists were wooing the democrats, they'd have a hard time convincing Lord Mueller to defect."

"Except Lord Mueller, despite his professed loyalty to the republic," Nürnberg near-spat, "has grown quite discontent with your handling of the two braggarts in the chamber. His voting record has shifted more in line with the Monarchistes with each passing issue," Nürnberg tutted, as if explaining to a child that birds could fly. That caused Septimius to upright himself in his seat, his brow becoming even more furrowed. If Mueller had indeed begun siding with the monarchists, then the integrity of the republic could be at risk. The civil war had begun due to a small spark in a large barrel, but the months after its conclusion had stirred even more discontent in the populace.

"How could I have missed this?" he groaned, hands covering his face. Though unable to see it, Nürnberg's face softened ever so slightly.

"It appears the stress of managing this rabble has gotten the best of you, Septimius. Despite your father's brutish and disposition, perhaps he was correct in the assessment of the Raeh people," Nürnberg offered. Septimius glared at the other man, hands still covering his face.

"We may have had issues over ideology, but I still had to bury my father, Kommissar. I'd appreciate it in the future if you refrained from mentioning him so lightly," he growled. If it was any other time he would have been shocked at his blatant insolence, but fatigue had frayed his nerves too much for him to care. The Reichskommissar kept his calm demeanor and brushed off the warning.

"The enemies of unity and stability are factionalism and chaos, both of which are products of democracy and republicanism. We both want a stable and prosperous Varumia, but that nation requires a firm hand to guide it towards the light of modernity. If the legislative bodies of the state won't come to a consensus willingly, then I'll reach one through force. I mention it only because I desire to see you grow, Septimius, both as a man and as a politician. You're the best asset I have here, and both our interests align."

"Perhaps they refuse to reach an agreement because they know that no matter what you'll override it for your own desires," Septimius offered dryly, now simply too tired to argue. Nürnberg, who had risen from his seat, placed his cap on his head mulled the thought over.

"Perhaps, Herr Halbeck. Perhaps," he said softly. He turned towards the chamber, but not before turning back again to face Septimius.

"I would make haste towards the chamber, Halbeck. I'm convening the session earlier than normal, and I want you to be there for my announcement." With that he moved towards the throng of people still outside the chamber, who parted at his presence as if he was a bad omen, come to ruin their day. Septimius sat still for a few moments longer before rising, deciding to get it over with. As he stood, however, he ran into Jaesi, who stood patiently on the stairs. Her tanned skin and hazel hair betrayed her southern provincial origin, but she was a welcome sight to the exhausted former Halbeck heir.

"Did you know he would be here Jas?" he asked. She took a moment to answer, taking in his tired demeanor with more concern than might have been proper for two colleagues. Despite only knowing her for a few months before the declaration of independence, the two had grown close, and Septimius had spent a fair amount of nights wondering if perhaps there was more to be had, but the resulting conflicts and career divergences had put any such notions on hold; she was a respected speaker of the Bundesrat and public icon, while he was either the former noble-turned traitor who had sold out the public, eking out a living as a Reichstag member or a naive revolutionary down on his luck, depending on who you asked.

"I organized it actually," she replied after determining he was alright. Now that hurt.

"I never expected you to turn traitor, Jas. A month ago on the way to the ball you could barely talk to the man, now you're arranging his play dates?" he said venomously. That same part shocked at his insolence not even a minute prior cried out again, scolding him for abandoning his noble etiquette, but he didn't care. The sooner this was over, the sooner he could go to his home and take a good rest for the first time in a week. For her part, Jaesi took it in stride, but the slight hurt pained him further.

"He has a point, Sep. We both put everyone we had into making this, this country and this government. But we can't do it by ourselves, and there's almost no one here willing to help aside from the Germerians. Not after what your father did and stood for," she added lightly.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should buddy up with Lucius again. Heard he made himself a fortune in Futrellia, bet he could use the wake up call," he replied. He knew crossed a line at their traitorous comrade's mention, but once again his fatigue overcame his senses. Any sympathy Jaesi had for his predicament vanished at that and he might have even sworn she was ready to slap him at the taunt.

"I thought this would be an opportunity for you to make some headway with him, but if you're going to act like a child then I'll just leave you to your brooding next time." With that she turned and walked out of sight from Septimius. He stared at the direction she left for a few more seconds, before entering through the chamber doors where they had wandered to in their argument. From his station next to the three ministers seats and with his ceremonial mace in hand, Louis shot him a question look. Septimius shook his head and waved it off while making his way down the aisle.

To his surprise, Friedhelm Stürner, the Reichskanzler, had taken his position on the left hand side of the Reichskommissar's seat. Stürner usually didn't personally attend Reichstag assemblies unless he or Nürnberg made big announcements. Stürner was a personable man despite his close bond with the Kommissar, or as he would put it, "I have to be the outgoing one with that old rock!" Septimius rather enjoyed talking with the man, who proved to be a well read and cultured scholar from one of Germeria's top officer schools.

Minutes passed before Nürnberg entered the chamber, with mixed reactions. Many of far Left and Right derided his presence, but none dared to openly insult him to his face. The centrists, while not willingly finding themselves aligned with him, were not endeared enough to applaud entrance. This was standard fare for much of what the man did, neither widely celebrated nor openly accosted, but nonetheless was an entity unable to be ignored. Among the upper perches he spotted Jaesi in her usual spot, but neither gave the other much thought at the moment. Nürnberg calmly and slowly took his seat at the head of the chamber, in between and above both Septimius and Stürner, and looked across the seated legislators.

"Honored Ladies and Gentlemen of the Reichstag, I have come with an announcement." The proclamation was both swift and forceful. Septimius could feel the tension in the room rise up as it usually did when the Kommissar involved himself with the proceedings, and even Septmius got slightly riled by all the energy entering the room. Nürnberg paused slightly before continuing.

"It has come to my attention that on the issue of funding the expansion of Varumia's rail network, the Reichstag has come to a standstill. As all of us here know, Varumia has merely one major railway still in operation. One. All agriculture, exports, imports, mass transportation and military matters are dependent on this railway, more strain than it was ever intended for, and the state of the country in the past year has deteriorated it even further."

A pause.

"As this is primarily an economic matter, it must go through the Reichstag before being approved. I have been convinced by several members of this vary house," Sepimius could practically feel every gaze move on to him at that, "to give the Reichstag a chance to put forward a legislation deemed acceptable to the Bundesrat that would provide funding and means of expanding this network. It seems, however, that you have failed in even this most simple and imperative of tasks." The members started bristling at that, and quiet murmurs began to appear in pockets of members.

"Having giving you the chance to provide a solution, and having been disappointed in this endeavor, I have come to call my powers as Reichskommissar to enforce a decree on this matter. Henceforth, for an indefinite period of time, Varumia will open its markets to major foreign companies and institutions that provide materials and funding for the expansion of six new railways throughout the country, as well as devote major resources to build these railways." Widespread murmuring filled the hall, and already Septimius could identify small areas of discontent form. Nürnberg continued as if nothing was amiss.

"Funding for this will be taken from the public welfare and healthcare budgets as needed and approved by the Reichskanzler and myself. In addition, I have received authority from the Kaiser to draw several large loans from various governments and institutions as befits the need of the state, as well as making any deals I deem necessary to aid this project." Now Clemencuay negan to rise, along with several of his supporters, but Nürnberg swiftly cut that off with his next statement.

"And as a final measure, six hundred thousand Gemerian citizens will be migrating into Varumia from the Empire. A majority will be the spouses and relatives of Germerian personnel stationed here, but a quarter will be laborers and engineers that will work directly on the project. This decree is final, and I expect full support from both this house and the Bundesrat. That is all."

Now the entire house was in uproar, legislators rising out of their seats and throwing loose sheets of paper, hankerchiefs or anything else they could get their hands on. Clemencuay had a beet red color to his face, roaring at the Kommissar from an equally as angry crowd of RNF members. On the opposite end of the hall, Theussiers was trying his hardest to resemble a sailor, shouting every curse and insult known to man, while decrying the welfare cuts. Nürnberg didn't seem fazed by the outcry and swiftly left with Stürner, surrounded by ISB agents.

Septimius looked towards Jaesi, who sent him a nervous look. All he could do was stare blankly at her before giving up all sense of decorum and sliding in his seat.

At least it couldn't get worse.

---

Feb. 15th, 2019
4:30 p.m.
Undisclosed location, Former Razonica

Inside the cramped apartment, a telephone rang. The man inside looked away from his television enough to pick it up.

"Yes?"

"Comrade Britho, did hear the news?"

"...Yes."

"The Kommissar has gone too far with this action. His support from the nationalists has basically eroded within minutes, and Theussiers and the left are exploding with anger. Now can be our time to re-establish ourselves, maybe even form our own commune again."

"..."

"Comrade Britho? Should we go?"

"..."

"Sir?"

"...Go ahead. Gather the others. We'll meet in Strasbourg and make our debut within the month. Britho out."

[Claudiopolis]

Hansable, Claudiopolis
Hansable Capital Park, Hansable
April 14, 2019 3:15 P.M

The Captial of Claudiopolis is beeming with a high activity of people, it's only about 20 minutes before the Speech will begin and this is suppose to be the speech that everyone is hoping that will give the great news of this Civil war that both sides wants out of now. For Adrian Schiller, a Journalist for the Aelstun Journal, he has been keeping up with then war since it broke out with both sides asking support, which prompt a lot of new outlets to try to cover, but theirs has been a order that prevent any journalist or reporters near any signs of a warzone. Adrian was just recently able to get access to record the events of the speech, being held by Manius Docilus, The Head- Councilor of Claudiopolis. The Park was in great condition, lots of areas where people can get refreshments, and people can relax and rest with heaters since the weather is a bit chilly, Adrian is hoping to get enough of the speech so that the rest of Germeria know what has been going within Claudio and Plyric territories.

"Excuse me sir, but only reporters are allowed beyond this point, if you are with any News agenices, please show ID and make sure you don't cause any trouble" The Guard says as Adrian approaches the News Tent

Certainly sir, here's my ID and papers" Adrian says as he hands over his papers and ID.

Thank and remember not interupptions during the speech, questions will be asked and answered later in this same tent and you will be notified ahead of time when the speech is starting" The Guard says as he hands back the papers and ID and holds open the flap so that Adrian can walk inside.

The feeling of warmth is quite the need that Adrian wanted, since is close to being 40 degrees Fahrenheit outside of the tents. There is a lot of Reporters and Journalist who are from around Elvarya, but they are really noted as very popular reporters, some are just from local news while other might be a part of a failing news outlet or ones that Adrian haven't heard of. However, Adrian is more interested by some of the people who are attending this speech, some of them are protesting this speech for their reason is that the civil war will never end and eventually Plyric will just takeover Claudiopolis. But no one is paying attention to the minor voices who tries their best to call out this "flawed speech" as they called it.

30 minutes later, a Guard opens the flaps to the tent and Beckons everyone out as the Speech will begin shortly. Adrian was one of the first out since he waited by the flap and got one of the closer unmarked seat to the stage where Manius will talk from. The Stage itself is pretty high compared to where everyone is seating and the area where Manius will be standing has a type of bullet-proof glass surrounding much of the stage to prevent an assassination attempt from far, even has some guards watching every entrance to the stage. Adrian is pretty excited for the fact that he hasn't been to any other place other than the different cities of Germeria and this will be his first international stories to come out of the Aelstun Journal. Five more minutes passes by and Manius appears in front of the Stage, behind the glass of course, and a roar comes from the people behind the section where the News Reporters and Journalist are at, the People are pretty excited to see Manius.

"Alright, I appreciate the rising uproars of support, but the speech must go on and with the exact quietness is needed since I want everyone to hear me. I know this war has gone on for too long and the Council and I had agreed to send a peace offer that Plyric can not just ignore. This war has been hard on us and those who aren't even apart of this war to begin with, and with this peace offer, we might just lives as a nation we dreamed of and will be able to recover. Rebuilding will start once Plyric agree with our proposal and the Council swears on a oath that it'll be the greatest push for the integrity of our nation. We'll be that Democratic nation that we swore to be when we was first founded alongside Romas and his military supporters. All i ask is for the people to pray that Plyric will accept the peace deal and end the struggle that both sides had for the longest time. But if Plyric doesn't seek peace, we'll seek the help of the other nations to bring the end of this war, peacefully and without bloodshed, a lot of men and women had died to preserve our place in Elvarya and a new era must come with this acceptance of a new nation, and I will not rest until we get the peace we deserve!" Manius says over the mic, giving the words that the entire crowd wanted and they begin to cheer and applaud Manius.

But moments later, sounds of what would be gunshot are heard and Manius immediately collapsed to the floor, a few moments later, a man appears in front of the stage, he was wearing a balaclava and was holding an assault rifle. He grabs for the mic and begins to speak in it.

"The times has come, the Council failed the people of Claudiopolis and they failed the other nations they promised help to, how can a man like him be trusted and how can the Council really give us peace when we are on the head of Plyric, about to drive the nail in the thin skull that the Plyrican people have. We can never have peace with warlords who ruin a great monarchy in the past, Plyric would've been so much better, but I say we need to push them back and reclaim what's ours by right, It's Pons or Death and we'll show them how being a 'Republic' is and how their own system failed them as it failed us" The Mysterious man says as he pull out a pistol, aims the gun to his head and pulls the trigger. Another man enters the room, cuts the pointer finger off of Manius left hand and walks away with another 3 men in tow pointing the guns at any guards, who are surrendering. Everyone else had either fled the scene or got on their knees and is sobbing to their newly dead leader.

Not even five minutes later, Romas and Kalian arrived with more armed forces searching the entire capital city and the surrounding area outside. It was founded out that Commander Aero was overpowered by the 4 men who showed up in the back of the stage and held anyone who was armed hostage until they we're out of sight. Adrian was with a few reporters when Romas approached them.

"Have you or anyone else here noticed anything suspicious before the speech? There's been reports that the group entered near the entrance that is close to the area where the News people were at" Romas says as his assistant pulls out a notepad and begins to write what some of the reporters are saying.

"What about you, sir?" The assistant says as he looks at Adrian, who is still shocked that a Man was murdered in front of a crowd of people, just like in a movie, but he snaps out of that and begins to say that he haven't seen anything suspicious before the speech, he was to worried about the event itself.

"What will you do about, is this a result of the war or could this be just an extremist act? Adrian asked Romas.

"We don't have enough evidence to prove this is an attack from Plyric, but if this is a attack, there will probably be no end to this war" Romas says as he walks away from Adrian.

[Germeria]

March 10th, 2019
10:30 a.m., Germerian Standard Time
Mayerling Hunting Retreat, 26 miles outside of Aelstun, Germeria

"Hello Herr General. I trust the drive here went smoothly?"

"It went fine all things considered. This is a rather morbid place to meet, don't you think?" General Paul von Lettow-Vorbeck wasn't a superstitious man by any measure, but the Mayerling Retreat had a sad past for the Aelstun family. Over a century before in 1889, 35-year old Rudolf von Aelstun, the Kaiser's First Cousin twice removed, and his 19-year old mistress, Marie Louise von Hohenberg, Princess of Preußen and Heir-Apparent had committed a suicide pact at the lodge. The resulting national attention of the incident scandalized the Aelstuns for the next few years and succession moved to Rudolf's cousin and Friedrich's Great-Grandfather Ferdinand IV von Aelstun, with the retreat itself being attended to by a handful of family servants. Vorbeck wagered this was the first time an Aelstun had visited the retreat since then.

"Perhaps, but it's a beautiful spot for relaxation and one can bag quite the prize here," the Kaiser responded. Servants frantically moved about the rooms, dusting off furniture and getting the building ready as the two men moved to a spacious side room.

"Forgive my crudeness Your Majesty, but you needn't use such conspiratorial language with me. Simple terms will suffice." Friedrich raised his hands in defeat, motioning Vorbeck further into the room.

"Apologies then. So much time amongst our nation's most pedigreed citizens has made it second nature for scheming. Though to be fair, what we aim to do is a conspiracy by most accounts. A secret coalition of nobles, soldiers and merchants to try and ensure the outcome of an election while keeping it hidden from the public? Scandalous."

"Or campaigning," Vorbeck quipped. The sideroom turned out to be a billiards room, with a few game tables strewn about and a bar sitting unoccupied in the corner. At the center table stood two men, already in the midst of a match. Greetings were quickly made.

"General, I assume you know Grand Duke Augustin of Baden already?" Friedrich asked, leaning on the side of the table.

"Augustin von Wettes of Baden, second son of the former Grand Duchess Elisabet. Volunteer colonel during the war, under Manstein if I remember the scuttlebutt correctly," Vorbeck recited. Augustin, a lankey man in his late 30's and about nothing else memorable aside, wasn't quite the sort Vorbeck expected at the meeting. From all accounts from his colleague Manstein, Augustin was a decent enough commander with a small knack for logistics, but he hadn't stood out for is military service, and Baden was one of the least noteworthy 'great princedoms' of the empire. He considered it a feat that he remembered the man at all.

"Indeed. Tales of your exploits in Teras against the Razonicans and Black Lions alike kept the hopes of the troops alive during the winter and spring, General. I represent the collective nobility that support our good Kaiser here in his endeavors against our 'enlightened' peers of the Electorate." The other man, dressed in a smart suit and sporting an old fashioned beard, cut in before Friedrich could introduce him.

"And I'm Friedrich Hurst, Rector of Ulm. I've been handed the poor task of making sure you're the right man for the job, or we're all in deep shit." Frederick finished his impromptu presentation by gripping Vorbeck's hand and vigorously shaking it. With an eyebrow raised, he let it pass as the three turned their attention back to the other Friedrich in the room.

"So as you can gather Herr Vorbeck, this isn't simply just a meeting between a commander and his subordinate. The next few months will decide not only the fortunes of ourselves, but of our associates and our nation. For too long the electors have had a stranglehold on the Diet and the demonstrations of our common citizens have shown their discontent with the current system. Failure to act now when public opinion is behind reform and the electors power base is at its most fragile will mean ceding control to them and theirs.

Now we meet here to combine our collective influence and make our bid for control. The nobility that have drawn the ire of the electors and chafe under them," a nod from Augustin, "the Free Cities and their natural rivalry with the high nobility and their open disdain for their lack of pedigree," Frederick acknowledged it with a grunt as he sank a ball into the pocket, "the republican faction with their desire for representation and finally, a Kaiser tired of the endless heckling and pettiness of the ever-changing high nobility." His speech over, Augustin took it as his cue to continue.

"A large section of the Diet supports the Kaiser, feeling indebted to his patronage and favors he's accrued over the years. Doubtless our plans for dealing with electorate will anger some and perhaps they might flip to them, but our core is united by a singular pillar, that of the kaiser and his family. The electorate's base, while large, has always been made up of competing interests and they are at their worst during the election cycle, each prince trying to promote his own aims and cronies to the Stewardship."

"And the cities'll back him too, putting him safely into a super-majority. Legal immediacy and trading rights ensure that only the daftest of Rectors'll flip, and the electors haven't been keen on making friends with us," spoke the Rector, not bothering to look up from his next shot and a cigarette in his mouth.

"One small catch though," he added.

"The cities will only back my initiative if they have insurance that the people are behind my faction. If it look like the electors are heroes of the people then any support from them will be given to the other side. So we need a candidate that can win," said Friedrich.

"And that's where I come in, I assume," finished Vorbeck. The kaiser nodded, moving to stand next to him.

"There aren't many candidates we can look to to begin with, let alone those we can trust to win. Manstein is too duty-bound and loyal, he'll look like a puppet and me his master. Guderian is too old for politics, and Schleicher and Model are too much of a wildcard, while Hindenburg is too conservative to win over the reformists."

"What about Student? His reputation is nearly as good as mine, and his airborne drop into the Razonican heartlands initiated the last surge into Razonica," Vorbeck questioned. The Rector let out a small snort.

"Student? Next you'll say we go to Herr Meijer."

"Please Rector, no need for such dismissal," tempered Friedrich.

"As for Student, Herr Vorbeck, he has too many connections to Nürnberg, and at the moment that's enough to not risk our chances on him."

"It appears that allowing the migration of half a million native citizens at once isn't a popular action in this day and age," joked Augustin, Federick chuckling along. Friedrich shot them a look to quiet them and turned back to Vorbeck, face impassive as he gave his next offer.

"So what do you say general? Fancy a campaign for Steward?"

Vorbeck took a minute to mull it over, picking up and examining one of the billiard balls. While he did have political aspirations, was it wise to make an enemy of the largest block of politicians in the country? Especially on his first attempt?

But then again, they might end up his enemies at a later time anyway, and then he'd have even fewer allies. And if nothing else, nothing ventured, nothing gained. He looked to the other three, who were now transfixed on him in anticipation.

"Fighting the largest political block in the nation, against all odds and on his first expedition into politics and besting his foes one by one, all the while winning the graces of the people and saving the country? By God, it seems like something suited for fiction than reality." He placed the ball down and rolled it into the pocket, before finally looking at the group assembled.

"My only question is....do I get a medal?"

---

March 19th, 2019
12:30 p.m.
Albrechtsberg Palace, Prince-Electorate of Sachsen

Albrecht von Wettin, Prince-Elector of Sachsen wasn't known for his expressive personality amongst the Germerian high nobility. In fact, his stoic and sometimes passive features had garnered him the nickname "Der Alte Stein des Saschsen", something he prided himself on since he'd first been called such in the reign of Franz Josef. But to Franz Papen, the Old Rock was seemingly cracked, a pensive and slightly worried look gazing into the intricate patterns of the massive mahogany table dominating the center of the meeting room in Albrecht's palace.

Various other nobles and a few businessmen were seated at the table or scattered around the room, the most important of which were the other six Electors of the empire. Franz was honestly surprised that von Wettin could get so many famous and leading nobility to meet on such short notice. Georg von Braunschweig-Dorf, Elector of Braunschweig, called everyone's attention amidst the mutterings and small talk filling the room.

"Gentlemen, thank you for arriving on such short notice. I believe I speak for all present when I say that our way of life is under threat. The Kaiser has seen fit to discard and disregard our offer of cooperation and has firmly placed himself with the common rabble, and this final act with General Vorbeck undeniably being a declaration of hostilities on us."

Murmurs of agreement followed the end of the elector's speech, small groups forming once again. Prinz Heinrich von Guelph, Elector of Guelph and an aging fossil of a human spoke next before the conversation would get derailed again.

"I warned you back then Albrecht, told you the brat was no good. The youngest heirs are always the most ambitious and quickest to betray, I said, and nothing good comes from Nerodanus. Josef's senses must have left him near the end to send one of his own to that frozen land of barbarism," grumbled the old man. Next to Franz, Albrecht didn't stir, his gaze remaining uninterrupted throughout the talking. It was beginning to unnerve Franz, for if this could cause the Old Rock to falter the what hope was there for any of the others here to prevail?

"Careful Herr Guelph. Herr Wettin is the most senior in rank among us, and if memory serves, your stubborn insistence on having one of the siblings elected caused his ascendancy in the first place," countered one of the suits. Franz took a little satisfaction in seeing the Elector's embarrassment at being reminded of his own role in the kaiser's election, by a mere commoner no less. Others whispered their own agreement at the assessment, and the room seemed poised to enter a round of heated arguing, only to be broken up by Braunschweig.

"Gentlemen please. Discussing the past here is no use to us, instead we must keep focused on the present and the future. Clearly the Kaiser is no longer keeping up any pretenses of honoring his agreements to our peers, and he can't be trusted to keep the old ways if he gains control of the Diet. Fortunately, we have a way of outmaneuvering his schemes. Herr Papen, if you would."

Franz inclined his head to Braunschweig in acknowledgement. Braunschweig was the easiest amongst the electors to work with, though that wasn't saying much.

"Thank you Herr Braunschweig. For the past two centuries, it's been no secret that the Kaiser, despite having the power to appoint his own choice of steward, has bent to the will of the populace and allowed elections to determine the favored candidate for the position. Without fail, every Steward that has been appointed has won the elections or had been in the line of succession if the incumbent had died before carrying out his term. This tradition has been kept with our current Kaiser, and since his platform has been centered on democratic reform, we merely have to ensure our success in the elections and force the Kaiser to either appoint our preferred candidate to power or appear a hypocrite by not allowing our due for winning."

"Sensible enough for a strategem, but what of our plan of attack? There's little love between the commoners and the aristocracy to begin with, and I doubt 'Re-enforce Noble Privileges' would work as a campaign slogan," spoke one of the more foolhardy nobles in the room.

"A good point, mein Herr," conceded Franz.

"As it stands now, the only method of success is to hijack and re-purpose our opponents platform of reform. It's become clear over the last few decades that our system, grand and resilient it may be, is no longer suited for the modern world. The recent war has only reinforced that, and if you wish to preserve the current order then you must be adapt to the circumstances. The mains strength of our opponents is that they're willing to reform the Diet to better suit the common people and that the high nobility is unbending in its stance. We retool their main platform of reforming the Diet and instead focus on curbing the powers of the Kaiser, while also empowering both the nobility and common representatives in the Reichstag. You all keep your power and way of life, the Kaiser is reduced to a figurehead, and the people get their vaunted representation," finished Franz.

The reactions from the others ranged from shock and disbelief on most nobility, approving nods from the business men, and hesitant acquiescence from the lower aristocracy.

"How low our fortunes have become, for the great and ancient nobility of Germeria to turn to a mere commoner for strategy in politics," spat von Guelph. Franz held back his retort as the old man continued.

"Not only a commoner, but one who was friends with our enemy! He and that blowhard Vorbeck have known each other since boyhood. How do we know this isn't another ploy by Aelstun to harm our cause from within? How absurd this idea is!"

"I assure you, my Prinz, that my birth isn't an issue to be pondered over, my loyalty, as ever, is to the lord of my home. And on the matter of Vorbeck, you needn't worry also. Though we had met during our academy days, we've never been more than acquaintances, and Vorbeck is an honorable man that balks at the idea of underhanded deals and backroom politicking." A flat lie if there ever was one, but Franz saw no other way to assuage the Elector. His hands were balled in his lap under the table when Guelph insulted his friend, but Franz was always loyal to his home and his lord, and that meant having to deal with men like Guelph and the ever-present mutterings of brown-nosers and yes-men that surround him and his ilk.

"Enough, Guelph. We must be united in this, here and now, moreso than at any other time in our history." The quiet and somewhat soft voice of von Wettin stopped the gossip and ploying of all in the room. Finally deciding to interject, the Alte Stein had finally broken from his spell of shock and cast his attention to all in the room.

"Herr Papen is right, we've been unresponsive and set in our ways, and the man that had played us years ago is now in position to defang us once and for all. If survival means swallowing our pride and conceding some small privileges, then so be it. The lethargy of the Diet has cost us dearly, and only a major effort of re-invigoration will allow us to rest safely once more," he said gravelly. The others, Guelph included, now took the discussion seriously and offered no resistance to Wettin's words.

The 'power' of nobility, I see, Franz thought sourly.

"However, that being said it cannot do for a non-landed citizen to lead our struggle. To that end, I gift upon Herr Franz Papen a landed estate south of the cities of Lettow and Vorbeck in the territory of my fellow elector von Braunschweig, held by my family for three generations. Along with this, Herr Papen will be known as von Papen as befits his status. I will brook no more mockery of the man so willing to help our cause, understood?" No objections were voiced.

"Very good," he confirmed. Albrecht's face finally resumed its normal stoic features, and for a brief moment Franz Pap- no, Franz von Papen now, was certain that they could not fail, instead of merely willing to win.

"Now, Herr von Papen, let's plan our first move, starting with Lady Olesya."

---

March 27th, 2019
9:30 p.m.
Vorbeck, Electorate of Braunschweig, Germeria

"Thousands of citizens lined the streets of Vorbeck as the vaunted war hero and General von Lettow-Vorbeck lead a massive rally and procession through the city to the tune of several popular marches. This marks the fifth rally held by Vorbeck and the first in a majority conservative city. Vorbeck, who was publicly endorsed by Kaiser Friedrich recently, has run on a platform of reforming the Diet and aristocratic privileges, and an expansion of the Reichstag's powers and responsibilities. He has near unanimous support in the Free Cities and liberal sectors of the country, and this move seems to be a probe for his support in conservative circles. Some analysts also believe that a show of support in his home city, which lies on the western coast and under firm dominion of the Elector of Braunschweig, is a way to reinforce his supporters and demoralize the conservative base."

"Thank you Christa. Vorbeck also gave a speech in a public square later that day, to a packed crowd of 7,000 and many others in the city listening by television or radio. Here's an excerpt;

'Citizens, fellow countrymen. I humbly thank you all for your great show of support today, as well as your tenacity and eagerness to participate in our government. Truly, such fervor and drive should be rewarded! But it seems that others in this great country of ours would seek to deny you your natural right to participation. For decades now, the unelected and hereditary nobility and aristocracy have dominated the Diet, blocking any legislation or action to better make your voices heard. They have halted and stymied the tide of democracy and republicanism, too proud to uplift their fellow citizens to their level and jealously guard their power and positions.

But no longer! Who was it that bore the brunt of the damages during the war, fought not so long ago? Who died en masse in poorly thought-out offensives, and operations made only to sate the vanity of noble officers? It was you - the common man and women, the worker, the teacher, the carpenter and the doctor. Much in life separates us from one another, true. But the one aspect that unites us all - both poor and rich, native and immigrant, man and woman, is this; Our nation. And those in power, the untouchable electors, the counts with vast tracts of land and the sneering nobility, would deny you even the most basic and necessary role of all in our nation, that of allowing you to choose your own path.

I do not seek to radically alter our country, despite what some may claim. Change it, yes- that I freely admit. But I too fought for this land and for what it represents; stability, honor, peace, and now, freedom. And let us not forget the man who centered our nation in its greatest hour of need, our good Kaiser. It was he that guided our nation through the most terrible war to face our world, and it was he that listened to you when you cried out for recognition. But the same men who now control our legislature would stop our Kaiser from fulfilling his duty to you, the people, and making your voices heard, because of petty personal grudges and familial disputes.

Should these forces run our government? Guide our nation? I think not. They sneer at both people and ideas alike, not due to their own merits, but merely because of their origin. They refuse to help their common brethren because of the man who brings the message, and they're only willingness to change comes not of their own volition, but of necessity; I guarantee that if you the people had not banded together to make your grievances heard, they would continue to content themselves by watching from afar and removing themselves from the affairs of their 'lessers'.'

Afterwards, Vorbeck retreated to his families old estate on the outskirts of the city, but not before remaining behind to mingle with his supports for a short while. This is Johann Fock, Nedermarkt Public News."

---

April 1st, 2019
7 p.m.
Hannover, Grand Duchy of Hannover, Germeria

"In response to General Vorbeck's increased support amongst conservative voters following his largely successful rally in his hometown, conservative candidate Franz Papen, now von Papen with his recent entitlement, has responded by staging his own rally in the City of Hannover. While not as large as Vorbeck's rally, it still produced a sizable audience for von Papen, and some analysts worry that Vorbeck's lead could quickly be diminished as the once solidly pro-Kaiser city is now divided. Von Papen also made his own speech at the rally and focused on the future of the country and limiting the authority of the Kaiser.

'Fellow countrymen, I greet you not as Franz von Papen the noble, or as Franz Papen the candidate, or even Franz Papen the man. No, I greet you as another citizen of the Empire, an empire that has lasted for over a thousand years and has done so due to the guiding hand of its people and those who have been vested with authority to lead it. We have always elected our Kaiser- Always and without fail, even during the turbulent years of the Tragedy centuries ago. However, ever since the tragedy, the Kaiser, and invariably the Aelstun that sits upon the throne, has steadily been gaining more and more power.

We now stand at a precipice, a divergence point. And our options are this; hand over what little power the Diet and Reichstag have left to the Kaiser and trust in his goodwill to listen to us all and hope that he doesn't think adversely to us, or to ensure that power rests in not one man, but in many. You may think me a detractor of our Kaiser, but that could not be further than the truth; in fact, I admire his resourcefulness and shrewdness. However, we cannot gamble on every Kaiser being as gracious as he, and eventually the day will come where the office of Kaiser will supercede the Diet entirely and rule with an absolute grip.

I ask not for you, the average citizen, to forget and forgive the attitudes and actions of the nobility. That will come only with time and patience. But, we should not let our present grievances and emotions cloud our judgement. The people have clearly shown their discontent towards the current state of affairs and demand change. While some might think the electors unbendable, they are in fact the opposite. They too desire change, and are willing to grant it. But unlike Vorbeck, who is content to let the Kaiser dominate whatever change might come, we are determined to ensure that whatever hard fought progress that's earned is not able to be easily taken.

Do not hand over power to a future dictator so willingly because of the problems of today, or because those in charge today might greet you with smiles. Think of liberty and not of tyranny.'

Von Papen continued to answer questions and give further statements on policy after his speech, and is expected to hold another rally on April 12th at Braunschweig. In related news, Lady Katushya Olesya, an exiled former noble of Nerodanus has announced support for the von Papen, which was quickly followed by other shows of support by other exiled nobility. Following the revolution in 2011 and 2012, many former nobles on the border and other regions sought refuge in Germeria, where the Kaiser has allowed them to stay at his personal expense, though not much public support has been raised in response to their pleas. More news at 9."

[Peoples Republic of New Scotland]

Over Tadbu, New Scottish Controlled Zone
03/10/19
12:26 AM NSST

"Control this is Delta-Niner we request clearance for landing." "Repeat. Control, this is Delta-Niner we request clearance for landing. Over."

"Delta-Niner this is Control we request confirmation of the positive status of the package."

Cullen turned to his co-pilot and waved him back to cargo bay. The co-pilot unbuckled his seatbelt, got out of the flight seat, and left the cockpit. There was a slight pause before the co-pilot shouted back. "Package is in positive condition." Cullen got back on his radio.

"Control package status is positive." Static crackled over the radio.

"Delta-Niner you are cleared for landing. Prep the package for hand-off." The co-pilot came back into the cock-pit and took his seat. Cullen flashed the emergency siren in the got on the intercom.

"Ladies and gentle-men we will be making our descent shortly so please place the black-out bags back over your heads. I don't want any complaints and you don't want to fall 30,000 feet so just do it." Cullen began to ease the plane down for landing. The wheels of the plane bounced off of the dirt runway squealing as the brakes were applied. The plane eventually came to a stop and Cullen dropped the cargo ramp. Several men in black body-armor and face masks. One of the men entered the cockpit.

"Delta-niner thanks for the delivery you are cleared to fuel up then move on the station sigma-8 on the large island." The man turned back to the cargo bay and motioned to the other men to grab the prisoners.

NSFIA Black Site, Viobo, Tadbu
Unknown date
Unknown time

D'donga screamed and screamed until it felt as though his throat was going to tear itself apart. Finally Sal was finished with him. Sal put the scalpel aside and placed his prizes on a metal tray.

"Do you know what these are buddy?" D'donga couldn't muster the strength to speak. "No? Well these are your balls buddy. You might not have seen them before considering you Black Lions are too busy hiding like bitches to do anything with them." Sal paused and placed the tray on D'donga's lap. "As much as I would love to continue our party I don't think you would give me anything. So I'm going to go now but before I do I'm going to take off your arm restraints now I really suggest you don't start throwing shit around alright? Because you might not want to get rid of your only food." Sal leaned in and winked at D'donga. He loosed the restraints and D'donga felt his heart drop into his stomach. Would they really make him eat a piece of himself? Sal left the room and D'donga began to wonder to himself; "Should I give up our people- my people? or should I suffer at the hand of this monster?"

NSA Base Camp James IV, Outside of Viobo, Tadbu
March 5th, 2019
11:30 pm NSST

McKlusky had gathered a platoon of volunteers and Atholl began the briefing.

"Alright men so we're going to assault a BL command post at the top of this hill. Of course I'm not a fucking idiot like our bosses at command so we're not going straight through the enemy. Instead in about... Oh... 5 mintues the eastern side of the hill is going to be bombed to shit. Then the lovely boys my regiment are going to go over there and shoot the shit out of this fucking forest. I'm hoping our Taddie dumbass buddies will head on over there. Then we're going to sneak right up the west side, paint the outpost with IR beacons, then get the hell out of dodge for napalm and arty to wipe these fuckers off the face of the Earth. You are not to engage first. Once we've painted the camp you are weapons free for the return trip. Sound good?"

The platoon responded with a mixture of "Yes Sir!" and nervous grumbling. The Platoon began gearing up right as the first bombs dropped. After the bombing stopped Atholl's regiment moved out. The platoon waited by the entrance to their makeshift camp for the regiment to begin their engagement. In the distance shots rang out and only increased in ferocity. Atholl waved the men forward.

McKlusky took point and turned on his thermal sight. The journey up the hill was nerve wracking. Thankfully Atholl's plan worked and they only came across stragglers who were quickly met with suppressed weapons-fire. When they reached the outskirts of the basecamp Atholl ordered the platoon to halt.
He reached into his kitbag to produce 3 N-80 Grenade launchers.

Atholl quietly called out to the men. "Squad leaders take these and fan out. They're pre-loaded with IR beacon charges. Fire them into the encampment and haul ass back here. Remember to use your IFF sight to avoid marking the same target twice. Now get to it!"

McKlusky, Atholl, and a small retainer squad waited at the rally point for the rest of the platoon. Atholl periodically scanned the outpost with his IFF sight. Finally his radio began to crackle quietly. The squad leaders reporting successful incursions. Atholl got on his own radio and changed it to the regimental frequency. "Alright you can begin to pull out now we're about finished here."

The three squads finally made their rendezvous and Atholl waved them back down the hill. "Weapons free boys!" He reminded them. They began to run down the hill back to their base camp and Atholl Called out to McKlusky. "Radio in and let command know we're go for bombing run!"

McKlusky called out on his Radio. "Command this is Captian McKlusky of Firebase Delta-Xray we are calling for fire-support on painted position north or our encampment. Requesting Napalm, Conventional ordinance, and Phosphorus. Can you confirm command? Over."

"Delta-Xray this is Delta-Alpha we can confirm your request for support. Get clear of the area. Out."

"Roger Delta-Alpha. Out."

The platoon made it back to their firebase and no more than 15 minutes later the top of the hill burst into flames as napalm, conventional bombs, and even some white phosphorus bombs detonated all across the hilltop. Atholl called out to his regiment.

"Alright boys we wait for 30 minutes after the bombing stops and then we advance up the hill, finish off what's left, and set up shop!"

The regiment cheered and McKlusky went to wait in his tent.

[Germeria]

July 25th, 2019
6:45 a.m., WRT
Tùnis-aux-Piëd, Novo Razcon, 20 miles from Laerolkian Razconian-Vacroyan Border

The early morning dawn lit up FOB Dobrujda in southern Razcon. Small groups of infantry patrolled the perimeter as a handful of helicopters landed and took off intermittently, transporting supplies and command personnel. Multiple convoys traveled near the base, and it was obvious even to the most militarily illiterate observer that something huge would begin.

For Brevet Brigadegeneral Michael Schwerin, it was an auspicious day. He'd been in Novo Razcon for almost two months now since Germeria and Novo Razcon had formally allied with each other, leading the Germerian Expeditionary force of the 7th Fusiliers Regiment and 13th Kaiserliche Dragoons Regiment alongside another regiment of HSVC mercenaries, the 2nd Carabinier Regiment.

Schwerin had started off as a simple Company Major during the Razonican War, but had been discovered by higher ups in command after Feldmarschall Manstein's successful encirclement of Razonican forces and rapidly rose through the ranks to Corps Lieutenant General of the XV Kaiserliche Lancers Corps. Now well after the war, he had been retained in the army after the mass demobilization of conscripts as a Brevet officer.

His task was simple; reinforce and aid the legitimate government of Novo Razcon in their civil war as well as unofficially observe the tactics and geography of Razcon in the event of future conflict with the nation. And now after two months it seemed that the war would soon be over. The critical towns of La Pucelle-de-Foix and Basurbie had been taken by Legitimist forces, and the the last lynch-pin of the Legionaries, Tùnis-aux-Piëd, was hoped to quickly be taken and the Legionaries brought to the negotiating table.

Tùnis-aux-Piëd was a Legionary controlled city close to the Vacroayan border and settled directly in the center of the Maghrebi desert, and since the start of the civil war had been the leading hub of Vacroayan arms and any illicit trade coming from the Pyik through overland routes. If Tunis should be taken from the Legionaries, the hoped for outcome from the loss of a major logistical center and the chief remaining trade center, as well as the shock of suffering significant casualties, would be enough to force an armistice and eventual treaty ending the civil war.

Inside the command tent, the major organizers of the maneuver to take Tunis, named Operation Cornelieu, huddled around electronic displays and a map of the countryside with markers of known enemy and friendly positions on the large table in the center. Razconian generals Chastain, Laval and Poquet would command the bulk of the 50,000 force, striking directly towards the city and attempting to draw most of the Legionary forces away from their flanks or tie down any forces that could be used for reinforcements.

Neroian attache Tkachyov Benedikt would be coordinating Neroian efforts and special forces in raids and screening behind enemy lines. Schwerin had been unable to ascertain the exact location of Neroian forces, but had conceded oversight of that task to Benedikt and had focused on his own forces. While the Razconian forces would strike the center and the Neroians the rear, the Germerians and HSVC mercenaries would strike the weakened right flank after a prolonged artillery bombardment. Utilizing Stoßtruppen techniques derived from fighting in the Razonican Drusignan mountains, the 7th Fusiliers and 2nd Carabiniers would begin their attack almost immediately after the barrage stopped and attempt to take the bluffs overlooking Tunis.

Once the bluffs are taken, more field guns and resources would be airlifted in and used to attack directly into the Legionary center from their flank. When the Legionary center inevitably folds, the coalition will funnel them into retreating through the conveniently opened left flank, where the 13th Dragoons would then assault and harass them, attempting to whittle them down as much as possible. Should the Razconian forces succeed in their breakthrough and isolate the Legionary right and left flank, the 13th would instead charge and contain the left flank from escaping into the gap, and the coalition forces will encircle and annihilate them to the best of their abilities.

Having reviewed the plan, they set about it executing Operation Cornelieu. Starting at 7:00 a.m., the combined force of Germerian, Neroian and Razconian artillery and rocket artillery pounded Tunis. This barrage continued unbroken for the next two hours until 9:00 a.m., when the artillery fire ceased and the order to attack given. Almost immediately, the Razconian center charged, encouraged moreso by high morale and hopes for victory then strict discipline. But the veteran units inside the formation kept it intact as it entered the suburbs and outskirts of the city, engaging the Legionary forces and drawing its attention.

On the right flank, the 7th Fusiliers and 2nd Carabiniers began their assault as well, with the Carabiniers leading the charge from the bluffs less inclined side. Due to New Scotland's hilly and rugged terrain, the 2nd had experience dealing with such unusual and unfavorable geography, and easily managed to establish a foothold at the base of the hill, however slight it might have been.

At the same time on the bottom of the inclined side of the hill, the 7th launched their part of the pincer movement. Launching climbing spikes and hooks, they started their ascent up the bluff, slowly but steadily making progress up the bluff. The 7th had spent seven months fighting in the Druignan Mountains in Razonican, and being of the few veteran units kept intact from the demobilization, they used their experience to good use, efficiently sending troops climbing up the hill. Despite their experience and the current ease of movement, their attack relied almost entirely on the Legionary force being too focused on the 2nd Regiment's assault to notice their attack.

As Schwerin overlooked the battle, and the 7th and 2nd assaulted the bluffs, the fate of Novo Razcon hung in the balance.

---

August 17th, 2019
Principality of Teodorum, North of Adfrana

Life was good in Teodorum. The Sun was shining, the people were fed, poverty was minimal and the country was at peace. It was essentially the quintessential picture of the modern peaceful nation. But for Emira Lussengarde it was just another reminder of her captive home. She'd been stranded abroad while her family and country fought tooth and nail for survival against the monstrous child murderer Laerolk and the opportunistic snakes known as the Entente. Scottish and Renovan naval activity made any voyage by sea impossible, and after conflicting reports of the safety of the imperial family filtered in she was considered too valuable to risk being shot down in air travel.

And then her sister was ousted by her brother and uncle, and things went from bad to worse. Peace failed to arrive with the new emperor and then, finally, the Razonican Empire entered its final death throes as citizen fought citizen, neighbor against neighbor as warlords and opportunists took their chance to carve their own little slice from her inheritance. The Adfranian royalty and nobility had little to offer aside from a comfortable exile and pitying words, so she decided to strike out on her own.

She couldn't face the rest of her family, not yet. She loved them dearly, even after the fiasco with Faenia, but the way forward wasn't with Walther and his appeasement. Nothing less than a royal title would have them take her and her claim seriously, but her choices were limited in where to find support. Futrellia and the Arkhonians were still recovering from the war or had other reasons to play nice with the former Entente, and Kaladia and the others weren't enough on their own. The so-called "Successors" might be viable, but she was afraid being independent from Lussengarde authority for so long would make any attempt at asserting her rule difficult, if not deadly.

She did entertain the possibility of making a pact with the devil and going directly to Germeria or one of the other Entente monarchies, but quickly dropped it. Even if they thought they could gain something from any arrangement, she'd shut them down out of spite. Some wounds healed easier than others it seems.

But she couldn't wander around without a plan forever, and so she found herself in Teodorum, a long time trading partner with both Adfrana and Razonica. Using her family name and what little influence she had, she set up an arrangement with a local nobleman where she would get housing and funding in return for more...base requirements.

True, it was degrading and humiliating that someone of her pedigree should resort to such methods, but only those willing to do what others won't survive at the end of the day. She will suffer through indignation and insults if it meant that even a fraction of her home could be restored, and victory will wipe away any disgrace, in her mind at least.

Fortunately for the former princess, it seemed an opportunity would soon present itself. The Razma tribes had consistently been loyal to the Lussengardes, more or less, and there seemed to be opposition to Turina's rule. Emira knew Turina well, and she wagered it wouldn't be hard to convince the woman to hand over the throne she was 'loaned' in Emira's absence. Neroian and Germerian opposition to a Lussengarde returning to an old Imperial dependency might be an issue, but any hesitation might cost her the initiative.

And so, she set off.

---

August 8th, 2019
Pyik Sea, 10 miles off the Caerion Coast
Germerian vessel GNV Erich Raeder

Vice Admiral Gunther Halberst idly tapped a pencil on his map in boredom. Months earlier plans had been set in motion for between the Kingdom of Caerion and Germeria to host war games in the Pyik Sea as a multi-faceted move to keep the Germerian navy sharp, improve ties with the island nation and gain insight into the foreign military, but international affairs between the Kingdom and the Arkhonian Federation had upset the plans and postponed them by a month. And after that had been settled, the Pyik Crisis occurred and the games put even further off, potentially to be cancelled.

Now after they had settled the matter, it seemed the higher ups might cancel them at the last minute. Despite his high rank in the Vestilic Fleet, Halberst couldn't care less about the feelings of some pencil-pushing, reed-thinned bureaucrat in Drakodia or Hanaga. Nearly millions of Germics had been invested into these games and more than once the Germerian navy had feared losing hundreds of millions from its cancelllation. If it were up to him, he'd have the Germerian and Arkhonian navy use any technology and tactics short of live ammunition to get whatever results were necessary, and even then he'd give live ammunition a good chance on the idea board.

Instead, in order to 'Keep peace' and 'reassure all concerned parties', the Arkhonian navy under the authority of Admiral James Holden would be using spare Germerian ships outfitted with blanks and electronic sensors and under strict international observation in lieu of Arkhonian vessels. The area of operation was 'graciously' extended to 20 miles off of Caerion, but any further would result in strict disciplinarian action by both countries upper echelons. And to seal the deal, an 'international observer' would be present on each ship to ensure nothing wayward would occur.

In short, they were getting slapped in the face and told to smile for it. But Halberst had no more recourse aside from complaining to the Fleet Admiral, and the Fleet Admiral would promptly tell him to keep quiet around the ponces and play dumb.

That suited him just fine. If the Admiral wanted to get shafted in the Reichstag, then let her do so. He would ensure they got the most out of this opportunity,

He always did.

[Qawiaraq]

July 24th, 2019
12:10 PM
Qawiaraq Main village

Chief Nanouk Kootook sat inside his hut alone, meditating by himself while hoping to relax before the matters of Village chief come up at a later time.

He was suddenly interrupted as his trusted friend Wamu rushed into his tent, a look of concern and worry plastered on his face.

"My Chief, strange visitors in flying metal birds approach our village!"

Nanouk stood up from his spot, turning to his friend with a look of worry and inquisition as to who came to their peaceful village, and why.

"Show me," He ordered, to which his friend nodded and began to lead his Chief through the town, where citizens were either leading their children into their homes or rushing to see who was coming.

When Nanouk and Wamu reached the place where the visitors were coming from, they saw soldiers armed with bows and spears Sanding guard and aimed at the strange ship with spinning blades atop it, which bore the symbol of a farming tool and advanced assault rifle.

The metal contraptions landed in the middle of an open field, where the side of it opened revealing men in dark coats and hats, wielding large wooden and metal rods, before saluting as another person came out, this one being a middle aged man wearing a black suit and tie, with a pin attached to each collar bearing the same symbol as the flying machine.

'Now who could this be?' Nanouk questioned to himself as he and his en began to greet the visitors.

[Nerodanus]

September 1st, 2019
Kiel, Germeria

Not many of the Neroian Nobility escaped Maxim and the Revolutionary Peoples Army during the 2010 Neroian Civil War. Those who did were either more benevolent, had enough forewarning, or were either close enough to the border/already inside Germeria. Vetrov Kuznetzov was one of the few who were lucky enough to be in a border city, even luckier to be one of the nicer rulers, which got him just a little bit longer to evade the uprising and escape to a smaller palace located in Germeria. Several other nobles escaped. Unlike his family the rest were minor nobles who escaped through various methods. Outside of Maxim and his younger siblings, he was one of the last Kuznetsovs alive in Elvarya.

It was a stormy day in Kiel. A thunderstorm raged above and rain pelted the windows. Vetrov was meeting with some of the other nobles to discuss their future. Finances were not a worry, investments, international companies, and saved money kept them thriving in the years since they fled. In attendance were the only members yet to renounce their claim on Nobility in the former Neroian Empire. Some held hope that the rumors of a growing support for restoration of the Monarchy under a Constitution to keep the democratic rights of the people would allow them to return to their old positions.

A loud boom rang overhead from the thunder of the storm. The ground shook a little. Vetrov would be the first to speak on a matter of utmost urgency.

"Can we be sure that the Germerian Nobles will continue to host us as they currently do? Though we were promised safe haven in our little home away from home here we have no idea if the Motherland is pressuring for our return. All of our people inside have slowly abandoned us."

Vetrov let out a huff. He was nearing his sixties. His son, and only child, Emsky, had abandoned his father in favor of resuming control over the Tech giant he had founded, International Computing Systems (ICS), under a plea deal with the revolutionary government. And while he has done a very good job with the company, increasing its profit and employing thousands of more people, the sting of betrayal hurt him. He was not without contact with his son, they were still family. But he has lost the support he once could count on.

Next to speak was Katyusha. A younger woman in her late twenties who was still more of a party girl than a respected noblewoman. But with her mothers passing she was heir to the title as Lady of Borsalv, much to the dislike to Vetrov.

"It is unlikely the Germerian government would throw us out. We pose no threat to them and assist in their economy. Some of us hold titles here too, such as you Vetrov. And with the recent statements from me we may have more allies in Germeria. Though that may also give us enemies. Besides. If we were told to return to Nerodanus it is likely we would be offered the chance to renounce our claim to our titles and live our lives in the Motherland. We did not support the remaining Monarchist forces after the end of the Civil War, and we publicly stated we would not. That gives us some grounds to stand on if it comes up."

Katushya looked over to a map of the world that sat on a wall. She wanted more than anyone to return home, to see her friends again, and speak her mother tongue with more than the older people who were slowly becoming crusty. Vetrov shook his head and was about to speak against her when the door busted open. Sapogov Gaspar, a man in his late 60's was out of breath and soaking wet. He held up a piece of paper, a letter from Vetrov's son. He had already read it over before running in. Taking a seat he caught his breath before speaking to the small group.

"Word from Nerodanus! Your son in particular Vetrov. There appears to be discontent between the people and the Soviets. With the next election not coming for a few years, it seems like the opposition may grow if nothing is done. Emsky claims that support for Maxim however has remained strong, with some suggesting he take more power and remove some from the Soviets. He has offered to try and fuel the opposition if we were to give him access to our resources. He also will use his strong relation to Maxim to try and get it so that Katyusha will be allowed back in. We could possibly use that to our advantage."

The group looked to each other before looking to Katyusha, an unsure look on her face.

"Well, let's discuss this further."

[Lozny]

July 24th, 2019
12:10 PM
Qawiaraq Main village

Comrade General President, Stannes Zhelezo, adjusted his tie as he stepped out of his transport chopper, his guard at an arm's length with their rifles held over their chest and giving the primitive tribe equal glances of caution and worry.

This would officially be the first contact between this tribe and the people of Lozny in decades and would be the first to speak with their leader and bring them into the new age of progress.

Stepping forward to the one dressed in the more fancy looking garments, whom Stannes assumed to be the leader, he stopped just a few feet away from him as he saw that his guards and people behind him looked to be a bit on edge, no doubt from his unannounced arrival.

"Who are you?" He asked in a heavily accented voice.

Clearing his voice, Stannes looked the chief dead in the eyes and began to speak.

"Greetings. My name is President Stannes Zheloezo of The Soviet Socialist Republic of Lozny, and I come to you and your people in honour of peace."

"I am Chief Nanouk Kootook of the Qawiaraq," The Chief introduced, "Forgive our seemingly hostile actions. It is not everyday strange men come from the sky in roaring metal birds unannounced into our land."

"I apologize, Chief Kootook, but I'm afraid we had no way to notify you beforehand, so we had to go with the cloud route. I hope I have not caused any sort of disturbance."

"Other than causing a scare, no. Though I believe I would like an answer as to what it is that you are doing in our village."

"Of course, but is there perhaps a place we could do this in, say, private?" Stannes asked as he motioned to the gathered crowd.

Chief Kootook took a glance around to see that nearly half the village was here, whispering amongst themselves as they all stared at the strange visitors.

"Very well, follow me back to my tent, we will talk there."

"Lovely, lead the way," Stannes said as he and his men followed the chief through the village.

Stannes rather enjoyed the walk, taking a glance at the rather clean and unpolluted yet primitive village, watching as young children and adults alike would stop what they were doing to take a glance at the strangers, talking among themselves about their clothes and skin tone, confused as to what they wore and where they came from.

The walk eventually ended, with Stannes and co stopping in front of a tent a bit larger than the others.

"The two of us shall enter, your men stay."

Stannes's guards seemed to take a small offence, refusing to leave their leader unguarded before Stannes himself raised his hand to say that he would comply and to stay put.

The two entered the tent, where they saw they weren't alone as a few men similarly dressed as Kootook were there, no doubt representatives and aids for the Chief.

"Now, explain why you have come here," Kootook demanded.

"Chief, I'm going to be straight with you," Stannes began, "something big is coming, something which I fear might be the start of another world crisis, leading to war death and famine among all the globe, including your village."

"And you want us to ally ourselves with you?" Nanouk figured.

"In a manner of speaking. I'm willing to offer you ways to defend yourselves against the modern threats of the world, supply you with medical revolutions which can save lives, and integrate things that may change the way you look at yourselves," Stannes listed off, "Of course, I'm not going to force this on you, you are free to take and deny what you will, for I am not a tyrant demanding your fealty like those who came before me. I'm simply offering you the chance to a secure and peaceful future for everyone."

Nanouk rubbed his chin as he thought of what to do, while his aids and trusted friends whispered amongst themselves in what to decide. That was broken when Nanouk raised his hand to cease all the talking and looked Stannes dead in the eye.

"Can you promise the safety and freedom of both my people and my land? That this is not some plot to steal our land and others?"

"I promise," Stannes said, making it very clear his intent before sticking out his hand

Nanouk looked him in the eyes, before nodding and grasping Stannes's hand with his own.

"Excellent!" Stannes said, "I can tell that this is the start of a beautiful relationship. Now, let's go into the details of this, partnership."

For some reason, Kootook figured he just changed the future of his people, the feeling of a dark presence just over the horizon.

[Jord]

July 25th
04:30 PM
White Palace



"We must assist them!" Rogal voiced.

"And why must we do that?" Hugo Pierre demanded, "Why should we bother sending troops into another pointless war!"

"Pointless, these our are allies fighting close to our borders, we should assist them in taking down these Rebel Scum!"

The Royal Jord Council was in an uproar, news of the Tabdu rebellion has spread through the country like wildfire, and the Council was now deciding between helping support Scotland, or remain Neutral.

"If we help Scotland, we can further tie the knots between our countries and gain another high ally," Rus reasoned.

"But is Scotland not already our ally?" Vulkan asked.

"They are more like a friendly neutral party to us. We don't harm them and they don't harm us. We're on good terms as it is."

"But that doesn't excuse the fact that we need to decide what to do, like fighting to help our allies and evidently our country, or sit back and do nothing."

"why are you so set on war?" Hugo demanded.

"I am so set on the defence of our country as with the peace of another!" Rogal reasoned, "Think what would happen if those Rebel Scum succeeds in this rebellion. They could spread their influence to not just other nations but our own! We already have had enough civil conflicts before, now is not the time for more!"

"I agree," Rus pitched, "Plus while I do not doubt the military might think of Scotland, what would be the outcome of a successful rebellion? They could still prove a serious threat to our great nation, possibly starting a coup in an attempt to overthrow you, My Queen!"

Freya's mind was wrecked with what to do, having listened to her council bicker with each other for hours on end, while herself thought over every detail. On the one hand, they would be entering another possibly pointless war they needed not to take part in, while on the other they could gain a new ally and assist with taking down a rebellion which if successful, could prove harmful to Jord.

"I believe it's time to make our choice," Her Majesty said, "All those in favour of assisting Scotland with their conflict, raise their hand,"

Nearly all of her council raised their hand, leaving it clear what the victor of choice was.

"Then it's clear, we go to war," Queen Freyja declared.

[New Neptunia]

"You can't be lucky even once, but that's what they all say."
Above the Orvosic Sea
Flight 141, Ogami Airlines (Aircraft: Kagasaki 747)
May 15, 2019 - June 10, 2019

---

Hana Kazuharu is one lucky man, who recently scored a business deal that may just save his own family from financial ruin thanks to his somewhat assertive methods towards his Germerian counterparts in the retail industry. His family owned business wasn't doing well with the merciless competition back home, but having a foreign help could turn things around and may as well make him a millionaire should things become too successful. Of course his next move would be to fly back home from Germeria to a small city in Fuso where he established his business there, and with him are a bag of souvenirs his wife and kids would certainly enjoy. A bottle of wine that isn't up to a price of a nobleman, but certainly foreign in taste, and he can't wait to cherish it with his wife. As the usual boarding call from the airport states the gates for his flight is open, he did not stop from walking with a hundred of other folks, mostly his countrymen with the same joy of meeting their own families too, coupled with foreigners who's expected to see their roundabout trip towards their nation with a delightful glee from a young Germerian girl named Anna, who by coincidence is seated next to him. Of course a couple of greets and questions there as Kazuharu exchanged words with her, before he's bombarded with more questions from Anna about his own nation. Instead of responding with a tone of annoyance, he didn't seem to mind to answer the girl's questions at all, and what more to amaze the woman by telling strange stories of his own culture back home that would only drive her to see more of the sights.

As their flight reached midway towards it's destination, with most of the passengers asleep including Anna, Kazuharu took this opportunity to look over to his phone from recent transactions from his business to messages and photos of his own family, knowing well that all such happiness would become even better once he begins to change things around upon coming home. Aside from the plane's minor turbulence, it didn't seem to break any of his daydreaming about the future, imagining himself that he'll be one of the top dogs of his hometown, if not one of the biggest players in the nation's overgrown business conglomerates. But he stopped with such gaze towards his future when the plane's turbulence went from something minor to worse, with all the passengers bolted up from their sleep as they felt the world's strength pulled down. The panic couldn't be contained, with the power turned off and anyone who could see the plane's engine from inside would see itself shut down. As the plane hopelessly makes it's unwanted journey to the oceans below, the captain of the plane could only tell them to "Brace for impact.", with no miracle bound to happen due to this situation. Kazuharu couldn't believe it, and being a lucky man he is from what he scored abruptedly ended with this tragedy as he embraced the young girl next to him. The last few seconds is a sound of a massive impact towards the ocean just as Kazuharu shouted mercy towards the deity he believes exist, with most of the screams ended with him.

The seas wasn't too kind to let any of them live, with the night making it worse to see through and anyone who by any chance of miracle managed to swim their way out from such a brute impact would only last minutes before their bodies would no longer permit them to battle the seas. For Kazuharu, he could not feel a thing, the young girl who was next to him was nowhere to be found, with his body only to sink down to the depths of the ocean below.

"..I guess the goddess took away my luck and gave it to someone else..."

When asked of the aircraft's status by the airport that was supposed to receive them, they got nothing in return, with repeated hails does not seem to force the flight's pilots to respond since they last responded to a message about their estimated time of arrival. The moment their supervisors speculated that a tragedy had occured due to their failure to respond, they immediately scrambled to respond to this new emergency, with lines being directly connected to Ogawa Airlines all the way to the Fusoese government to help. A commission was soon established hours after flight 141's silence to begin an immediate investigation to respond and solve the issues of what might have happened to the flight, while the military's navy scrambled with ships carrying aircraft to search and rescue whoever survived, if and hopefully that seemed to be possible. The chances of that happening however was impossible. And as even the nation's NGOs were to deploy their own ships and submarines to look for any of them, nothing seemed to have turned up. Behind all that hopelessness however was a small but shining light as one rescue helicopter eventually found someone who was holding on to a small piece of the plane.

"...Captain! I found someone!" Said the pilot, taking the attention of the rescuers onboard as he directly splashed his aircraft's light onto a survivor.

"Keep this chopper still lieutenant! We're going to go for the survivor. Boys, you know the drill." He led his team to initiate in the rescue as the helicopter was only sixty feet from touching the oceans, more than enough for the ropes to tightly keep a hold on the rescuers as they descend down close enough to grab onto the survivor. The survivor carried on to use whatever strength she had to embrace her rescuer before they ascend, and with whatever's left of her strength they quickly tend to. But compared to this woman from the majority of the passengers, she was a foreigner, and only speaking english could close in about to what they were looking for.

"I'm gonna ask you an important question, and I just need you to just say things in short. We're you part of that flight?"

All she did was nod, and when she was asked about her name, she told them "...Anna... Anna Ingrid.."

-

As the investigation continues, and with only one of the 389 aboard Ogawa Airlines Flight 141 that survived, there were only pockets of debris left scattered across the Orvosic Sea, with most of them found within Fuso's maritime borders and the rest so far from Germeria's side of their maritime border. One debris that looked darkened looked too impossible to be true, and as the crew of the Fusoese Destroyer Akebono was the first to receive it, the crew deduced that there were several explosive fragements left from this particular debris, which strongly indicated that the incident was instead a terrorist attack. While this was so far their get-to-go answer, there were still much to be done, but such discovery would eventually soon reach to the upper echelons of the government, and then towards the public.

[Peoples Republic of New Scotland]

St Lucas's Palace, Government Quarter, Edinburgh
31/10/19
11:45 AM NSST
Leonard Gorcha waited in the rotunda of the ancient church. His predecessor was giving his fair-well speech. He was talking about the "road ahead" and his past "accomplishments" all topics that Gorcha was bored by. Finally after what felt like hours of waiting and listening to babbling bullshit Gorcha's aid called him forward.

"Sir it's time."

"Thank you Comrade. Time to make history." Gorcha straightened his tie and the great oak doors before him opened to a crowd of thousands of teeming supports and many more protesters. Before him was the Speaker of the Senate Chancellor holding the national constitution out before her. Gorcha stepped forward.

"Mister Gorcha please place your hand on the constitution, raise your right hand, and repeat after me." Gorcha complied.

"I Leonard Gorcha do solemnly swear."
"I Leonard Gorcha do solemnly swear."

"To uphold the constitution of our nation,"
"To uphold the constitution of our nation,"

"To protect the nation and it's people,"
"To protect the nation and it's people,"

"To guard democracy and freedom,"
"To guard democracy and freedom,"

"So help me God."
"So help me God."

Gorcha lowered his hands and the Chancellor turned to the crowd.

"It is my duty as the Chancellor of our Senate to announce the 60th Imperial president, supported by our democratic institutions and empowered by the citizenry, Imperial President Leonard Gorcha!"

Gorcha stepped forward to the podium to a mixture of applause and booing. He waited for the crowd to calm down before starting his speech.

"My fellow Scots. My Comrades. I would like to thank you for choosing me to lead you through these troubled times. I know that we live in an era of turmoil and I shall respond with stability and much needed changes. I will end the war in Tadbu. I will let them go free. I will eliminate the hostility of private enterprise, starting with the nationalization of the Honorable South Vestila Company. I will balance the budget by dissolving the military. All of these are claims my opponents made about my policies. They are but half truths. Tadbu will go free but we will withdraw all our people first. I will nationalize the HSVC unless they agree to turn over all profits to the government. I will dissolve the military but it will be replaced with protection from our comrades in Nerodanus and Renova. I have already gotten assurances as to this from Premir Maxim and the Renovan parliment. What my opponents neglected to comment on was foreign policy. I will aim to spread the glory of our communism to the capitalist pigs in Germeria, Futrellia, and Jord. At home I will collectivize the farming to ensure equality and I shall hunt down subversive elements with the help of the NSFIA and the now deputized "Red Guard" arm of the Communist party. Lastly effective immediately I am evoking amendment 18 clause 13 of the Constitution, declaring the nation in a 18-day state of emergency. As according to clause 14 I may take and means needed to ensure stability and as such I hereby dissolve the senate for the duration of the state of emergency."

He turned to the shocked Chancellor. "My lady you are dismissed."

He turned back to the crowd. "Comrades we live in a time revolution, a time in which we must either work to bring forth our utopia or we must yield to those who do. Glory to our revolution!"

Gorcha turned and went back into the church. His supporters went wild and as did the protesters. But to Gorcha it mattered not. All that mattered was the revolution.

[Aventhia]

Reyes' Depository Facility, Vermi City, State of North Point
October 18, 2019

Coming in at a bad time to knock in on the facility, employees checking in for their day shift just as seven men armed with automatic rifles and shotguns placed them down against the floor like entangled pigs. Each place that were deemed to be an entry for law enforcement were barred off with whatever they can pile up with, be it the use of the furniture in the lobby and trash cans that may serve up as a delay to the inevitable response. The motives of the men were clear to the employees, especially the manager of the facility, who was asked about the six separate combinations to the depository's vault. Anytime he were to respond an answer the leader of the armed men, he'd get a beating to his cheek, an obvious killer for each chance he'd spoil himself of, and soon a gunshot followed after a few more of his response did not favor the leader at all. With silence just remained over the facility's connections with it's security bureau, something was already up. They didn't waste time to send the first responders coming from the nearest police station. Just as they were to disembark from their vehicles upon arriving, they were happily greeted by them with guns from the facility itself. The first casualty is officially recorded when a police officer falls right straight to the cold ground as his body's gifted with bullets, much to the panic that erupted from across the streets.

Whoever was left alive from the people that responded first stated that the situation was nothing close to the usual bank robberies, but couldn't elaborate further as to what they're really up against. When the officer was asked about the numbers, he told his superior through the radio with an exaggeration that there are more than thirty armed men using assault rifles. With such numbers, even SWAT may not be efficient to clear the situation, and it was proven when the arrival of more law enforcement that included the first SWAT team did not go further than just being bogged down and exchanging gunfire with the armed men from the facility. As more law enforcement officers were either wounded or completely gunned down, it was time for them to call in the boys that would be willing to blast in their way even if it means letting the hostages die in the ensuing assault. Well the question of the hostages being alive at all already circled around their heads the second this gunfight started.

As the hours have passed and much of the crowded streets were cleared of civilians, the President did not hesitate to allow Sean Clark's earlier proposal to go through, and that was Clark's two teams of volunteers that came across from many parts of the globe. He didn't share the name of the team to anyone but the President himself, and once he had them geared up soon had one of the two teams driving a military APC that opened the front entrance of the facility a new door. Surely they had a more sparing idea of going in, but they didn't had time, and they don't care about the hostages either other than ending this little crisis. The other team came by the vents, large enough to accommodate a family of rats or a five man team to slam down in from various rooms across the facility as planned. Surely these two teams were aware of the training of these armed men, and a remark from one of them was that they're good but not enough. The ensuing firefight ended in exactly three minutes, a lot shorter than what Sean Clark expected the teams to have finished the siege at ten. The aftermath of the siege saw the deaths of fifteen people including all of the seven gunmen, with Howard's teams not losing at least one. Soon after, the investigation stalls despite finding out that the gunmen are connected to a group of international terror groups but that was just it. For Clark, this was his teams first success, but also the nation's wake up call for being inactive to respond towards future threats to his homeland, and that Clark knows that these series of events won't just be isolated in Aventhia alone.

[Novo Razcon]

July 20th, 2019
Unknown time and place
Bucario, Western Novo Razcon, under Legionary control

After the revolution broke out, signaled by a terrorist attack in the capital, the rustic city of Bucario, dating back to the early days of Razonica, was the first and largest city to fall to the Legion, becoming the de facto capital of the planned National Legionary State. However, for neither side, things were peachy in any way. Aside from the economy being shot to pieces, tons of resources being consumed, and countless lives being ended, the conflict had been proving nightmarish for both sides, with territory changing hands on a weekly basis. The barely-hospitable (save a few species of plants and animals) Maghrebi Desert in the southwest was one of the largest losses, allowing illegal arms to funnel in from Vacroaye in spite of religious distinctions. A large deal of the western territory similarly fell with the east remaining loyal to the Eruditist government, and both having a few enclaves of territory within one another. Over the course of multiple months, campaigns conducted by many of Novo Razcon's allies sliced the territory of the N.L.S. in half.

"For the sakes of the Ever-Parents, you're still being an idiot, Vladimir. This uprising of yours is never going to work, especially with Neroian and Germerian support of the legitimists. You will fall by the end of the year, and even after, the Laerolkian Party's reputation would crash to a halt. You need to sue for peace as soon as possible while you still have the chance to live." a voice calls to Vladimir Lee, sitting at a hardy oak desk in an Iron Bars-decorated office on the phone while overseeing a tannish board containing a map of the country for him to order troop movements.

This voice is Cornelius Antione, the head of the loyalist section of the party (Vladimir commanded the radicalists after somehow sneaking up the chain of command under Laerolk's reign).

"Relax, sir, everything is going just as planned. The fool's capital is within sight; one good assault and the false prince will fall. There's no need to be a pessimist." Vlad retorts before hanging up.

Truth be told, there was a smattering of soldiers close to the capital, but nothing major. Suddenly, the door to the office slammed open, with an advisor coming into the room.

"My leader, joint Razonican, Germerian, and Neroian forces are closing on Tunis. If we lose that city, we lose at least half of the trade from the border. What should we do?" The nameless advisor, a meek, thin man of fair hair and skin says, handing Vladimir a report on enemy troop movements, the manila folder showing the edges of at least seven ivory sheets.

After spending several minutes that felt to be eons in the atmosphere of a man who could order your demise at the drop of a hat, the aide listened to the orders of his dictator, or would’ve if Vlad would actually say them. For once, the confident, brash, titan of a man was stuck at a crossroads. Finally, he comes to a decision, saying,

“Call for my highest generals and advisors. I need more time to discuss this”.

Upon hearing the order, the nameless mook scurried out the door, letting it come to a squeaking rest at the precise time to not hear Vlad pray,

“Ever-Parents, please give me the strength to win this war and restore our fatherland.”

July 24th, 2019
Around high noon, local time

After a long tactical discussion in which the declining state of the Legionary Uprising and the potential of its absolute downfall became painfully apparent, Vladimir and the High Command of the Legionary Army came up to a plan.

Under Lieutenant General Drago, the 1st, 6th, and 8th Infantry Regiments, the 12th, 15th, and 17th Mechanized Regiments, and the 8th, 9th, and 10th Defensive Regiments rolled into Tunis and prepared their defenses. The Defensive Regiments worked to establish a series of fortifications surrounding the city on all sides. Like a horde of metallic mice, the Mechanized Regiments patrolled the streets, and Infantry stood guard at every possible lookout point. With roughly 40,000 men defending the city, Drago's certainty in a victory couldn't be more validated.

10:00 am, July 25th, 2019

For two agonizing hours, starting at 7:00 AM, artillery peppered the city of Tunis like a barrage of arrows. At least a quarter of what few defensive bulwarks the Defensive Regiments could install suffered damage, with crippled stumps remaining as the sole survivors and a field of debris sprawling across the battlefield. The 12th and 15th Mechanized Regiments sprang to action, charging across the uneven terrain to attempt to disable the enemy cannons before being disabled in the swarm of fire themselves. Two hours later, the Razconian section of the invasion force charged, meeting the 8th Defensive Regiment in the suburbs. Out of concern for being outflanked, the remaining regiments formed a C-formation surrounding the invaded side of the city, with the conflict between the Razconian invaders and the 8th Defensive forming the center. From a concrete and metal bunker buried beneath the earth on which Tunis lays, Drago and several generals under him in an absolute scramble to command their troops from afar, radio chatter filling the background with what only a hardened general could call its melody. As the meeting with Vladimir established, the fate of the Legionary State- the struggle for the Ever Parents, for Razonica- rested its fragile body on this one city.

[Jord]

December 21st 2019
10:11 AM
Jord Capital City, Thule

(Read Everything in Comic Sans)

The citizens of Jord were up and about the city, decorating all the buildings, street lights, trees, streets, and whatever else they could decorate with decorations in order to prepare for the upcoming festivities tonight.

In the streets, children run about in their winter wear having a laugh running around making the creation of snow and playfully throwing it at each other, while chefs and bakers both temperature and professional heated their ovens to prepare for the upcoming feasts.

Such sights were a something to see for Alexis von Gegenfeld, Margrave of Bludendorf, who rode in escort to the royal palace to meet up with the other royals of this country and many more.

“Enjoying the sights, Your Excellency?” Count Fritz asked from across the black limo they rode in.

“Hm? Oh! Yes, it is a beautiful country,” Alexis answered as he tore himself away from the window to address the count, “Nothing like back home.”

“I have to agree. While Germeria is definitely one of the most if not the most beautiful country in the region, Jord has something to it that makes me love coming here from time to time. Though I do wish the weather would be a bit milder.”

“It’s nice. I kind of like it.”

“To each his own. But onto more pressing topics, are you ready to meet Her Majesty?” The count asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Alexis said as he put as much confidence in himself as he could manage.

“Good, Germeria’s image rests in your hands in the upcoming days. Don’t want to accidentally spark a war between two nations now,” The count said, before noticing the slightly worried expression on the Margrave’s face, “I’m just kidding, my boy. You’ll do fine. Just act nice and natural and don’t worry about talking any serious politics. Just smile and wave is all.”

“Right,” Alexis said as he took a deep breath to prepare himself.

The ride lasted for only a few minutes as the conversation came to an end, and the Limo found itself parked in front of the Royal Palace.

It was a beautiful piece of architecture with a mix of Nordic and Celtic design, with an elegant stone wall laying around the premise with uniformed guards standing guard. There was also a crowd of civilians crowded near the gates, being kept back by the Imperial Guards, excited to see the new arrivals coming to their country.

“Remember, just smile and wave,” Frits said as he noticed the nervous expression on Alexis’ face at the sight of the crowd.

“Right,” Alexis said with after a deep breath.

The two exited the vehicle, which caused the crowd to cry out to them and the media to begin taking photos by the dozen.

“Remember, Smile and wave,” Fritz repeated as the two did just that while making their way to the palace, where a man in a suited man with his country's colours proudly pinned on his shoulders stood to greet them.

“Gentlemen, It’s a pleasure to have you here,” The minister of foreign affairs, Hugo Pierre, said with a small bow, “I am Hugo Pierre, Jord’s Minister of Foreign Affairs. I hope the trip here was one for your liking?”

“Indeed, we had little problems during the ride here, and enjoyed driving through your marvellous city,” Fritz said to the Minister.

“Splendid!” Hugo said with a smile, “I’d like to converse with your some more, but I feel that you all must be tired from the trip. I’ll have some servants bring your baggage to your rooms, and all you down when it’s time for the banquet. Until then, Gentlemen,” The Minister said again with a bow, before departing.

“He seemed nice,” Alexis said as he watched the man leave.

“So he seemed,” Frits agreed with a small nod, “Now then, let us go and relax. We have a big party tonight, and delegates from across the world are going to show up, we’re going to have to look our best if we want to make an impression. Let’s retire for now, shall we?”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Alexis agreed as he wanted to take a nap and shower and try to relax before the big night and try to get a breather.