The Fall [TWI Only|IC|Semi-Open]

[Brulafi]

With this interaction, Barshad made his quick departure from that foul-smelling place. He left behind a calling card as a carte blanche for the Sons of Mokov or their affiliates to enter the secure quarters of the Embassy. In the rideshared lift back to the Brulafi Embassy, the Attaché sent a hurried "thumbs-up" emoji over the standard end-to-end encrypted messaging app to his superiors—a simple gesture that was the pivot point allowing what would soon become Operation Handmaiden to begin in full force. In the coming days, Brulafi intelligence agents would begin parachuting into remote locations in Mokov, being aided by rebels and Foreign Labour Bureau staff to hopefully blend into Mokovi society. From there, they would begin aiding the Sons and their allies in military and political training, as well as intelligence gathering from inside the government. Jartalef felt a tingling sensation shoot down his spine after he sent that text: Not only was he at the center of a deeply-entrenched intelligence network, but he was now at the center of one of the many webs being woven in this blossoming civil eruption and he was the conduit through which all orders from Brulafi home turf would pass down to their minions on the ground.

It was all terribly exciting.

[Mokov]

Two weeks later, the civil war erupted in full force. With rebel agents behind every corner, the KBA has ramped up its surveilance of all foreign nationals, and this morning, a hard knock nearly batters down Jartalef's apartment door, and a gruff voice shouts "KBA, OPEN UP!"

[Mokov]

With the war nearly stalling out by the fall of winter, many experts predicted that it would simply die down as the extremists simply lost the energy to keep fighting. While for a time this opinion was rather popular, in recent days it has been decisively been disproven. A massive force, believed to be almost the entire rebel army, marched east, taking several smaller towns before surrounding the important city of Krolecz. Krolecz sits at the center of the island and houses the main rail station that connects Mokov. Rebel bombers fly over the city on the hour, making life within immensely worse, and rebel artillery constantly threatens to batter down the high walls of Krolecz. Time will tell if the besieged fortress will be able to hold out long enough for reinforcements to arrive and break the siege.

[Havalland]

The Havallish army was reinforced and dug in for the winter, a big beautiful trench system adorned the Mokov countryside, Havallish vehicles were being fitted with new parts so they wouldn't freeze up in the winter.

The Havallish air corps contued to attack the rebel position mixed with artillery bombardments.

[Brulafi]

Barshad Jartalef rose from his worn easy chair, newspaper still in hand. His footsteps tread evenly and slowly across the worn wooden floor of his apartment as he went to face his fate. As he slowly opened the door and peeked out to see the intruding secret police, he spoke in a calm and emotionless voice. "Now, let us not get ahead of ourselves. I am, of course, a diplomat from another nation," he said as he stepped out from the door and closed it behind him. "I assume you are here to take me into custody and interrogate me. That rough tone of voice would indicate nothing less pleasant," he quipped. "Now, I would like to invoke my privileges of diplomatic immunity and refuse to accompany you. If you insist on violating international law, though, I shall not put up any violent resistance." With that, he thrust out his wrists to have handcuffs slapped upon them in a dramatic and sarcastic gesture. He knew full well what they were here for—though how they had found out, he did not know—and feared that if the KBA was as... well, unsavory as the old Brulafi State Security Bureau, he would not see his front stoop in a long time. It was a bittersweet addition to the route of his train of thought to know that even if he were to die, the gears of the system would keep turning as before: the agents he helped place were almost fully embedded, and the helicopters with supplies for the rebels were already running now between the south of Brulafi and the outskirts of Krolecz...

---

Taravas Unified Command
5th Independent Airlift Wing
8:52 PM Local Time

The Taravas UC airbase was always humming with activity, even in peacetime. The recent uptick in arms supplies being shifted around and flown overseas on helicopters was sort of an open secret around "TarUC," but Senior Flight Lieutenant Tarmaije Satajef was one of the few that had at least what she thought was the full picture. Around her the blare of helicopter rotor blades and periodic roar of jet engines thundered on her eardrums as she ran back to her iron steed. The RWDB-4 "Redwing" was already warming up for takeoff, waiting for the last streaks of twilight to dissipate across the horizon before it could undertake its dangerous and illegal mission. The craft would be flying across open ocean at night into closed airspace in violation of international law to deliver aid to a treasonous rebel group. As if that didn't already lower Senior Flight Lieutenant Satajef's chances of survival, she was also flying a bomb that was packed full of explosives and ammunition that was primed to detonate at any moment. She wasn't shaken by any of this, however. Despite the mere handful of flights she'd undergone so far, she already felt like this was a simple routine. All she had to do was take off when the sky was dark, cross the Mokovi Straits (or the Southern Straits, as the Brulafis called them) in a few hours, drop off the cargo and potentially take anything to be returned "back to the store" before making a mad dash back across the Straits in time to be refueled and repaired at base—all before the sun rose the next day.

This time around, Satajef and her copilot seemed to be running on time as usual. As Satajef got herself strapped in, the Redwing pushed itself from the Earth below and turned out to lumber across the great expanse of sea that lay directly to the southwest. This time around, their cargo of rocket-propelled grenades, assault rifles, pistols and magazines was bound for some nameless clearing in the forests to the west of Krolecz. This trip now had an additional danger: they would be flying directly over a battle zone that likely involved air elements of the Royal Mokovi Air Force, which could easily outrun and outmaneuver the decades-old Redwing. The route they usually took to cross the coast, a prospect drawing closer with each passing second and breaking wave, bypassed most of Mokovi air defenses, but there was always that bit of risk.

A few quiet, moonless hours passed until the shoreline finally swept by below the round little helicopter and the crew was determinedly breaking international law. Now, Satajef had to put her years of piloting experience to the test. Her task was to follow the rail lines based on the glint that the moon reflected off of their steel tops in order to get to the field. After another hour which felt like a day, the little copter touched down in a field about 40 miles back from the rebel frontlines and opened up for business, like a traveling caravan merchant of death selling their wares.

[Mokov]

The KBA agents roughly handcuff Jartalef and throw a sack over his head. He can feel himself being pulled out into the cold streets of Nový Litkov before being tossed into the back of some sort of vehicle. After a solid ten minutes of driving, he is pulled out and dragged to a chair, which he is promptly tied to. The sack is taken off, and he can see that he's in a small, filthy room, with various instruments of torture lining the walls. A man wearing what looks to be a woodworker's apron steps forward and speaks. "Barshad. What were you thinking consorting with those rebels, in the capital city no less? Did you think we wouldn't be watching your every move? The KBA has eyes everywhere. Now, you are going to tell me everything you know, or I get to start working. Your choice."

---

As the Redwing enters Mokovi airspace near Krolecz, the intense battle in the skies makes seeing a difficult prospect. As they approach the designated drop off zone, a single fighter, emblazoned with the Royal colors, breaks off from the dogfight and streaks towards the trespasser.

[Mokov]

Nemyvodsk, South West Mokov, Mokov Democratic Republic

In front of a roaring crowd, a Blue-Red-Yellow tricolor, adorned with black symbols on each side with a seven-pointed star in the center is raised by a man wearing a black astrakhan. "Today, finally, we Cossacks can throw off the yoke of the Mokovi oppressors and once more rule ourselves! We are no longer simply 'The Trosrod Cossack Sector' but the Trosrod Host! They can either fear us and live, or try and destroy us, and taste death at Cossack hands!"

Following that speech, all forces of the Mokov Democratic Republic were violently expelled, and the independence of the Trosrod Host was internationally declared, under the leadership of Hetman Bohdan Pavlovich Federov, who organized the revolt.

[Mokov]

For two weeks, the Royalist stronghold of Krolecz has weathered a brutal siege, the high walls and motivated defenders barely managing to hold back the Grand Army of the Democratic Republic. Unfortunately, the much-needed reinforcements never arrived, as the relief army was caught in an ambush by the recently formed Trosrod Host near the newly defined border.

Two days later, the western wall finally broke under the rebel artillery, and the city fell. The garrison mounted a valiant defense, buying the inhabitants enough time to evacuate and allowing for the near-total destruction of the railway hub in the center of Krolecz. After four hours of brutal house to house fighting, they abandoned the deserted city. While a major victory for the rebels, they took massive casualties in the fighting, and it will be some time before the railway hub can be repaired.

Král Ivan XII has offered no statement about the situation and is reportedly in a deep depression as a result of the war.

[Aizcona]

In the month since the Estral government offered help to Mokov it has not yet entered the nation. In this time the government stalled to see how the situation developed. In juxtaposition position to that though the Estral Armed Forces has put together a number of plans and established a ready line of logistics for what it has termed operation lion’s roar.

With the outbreak of full civil war the Estral position was becoming untenable. Mokov was a close trade partner with Aizcona and the two governments were on friendly terms. A win for these rebels could lead to strong relations with Brulafi. Even if they weren’t to align with Brulafi though, the loss of Mokovian friendship would be a blow to Estral hegemony in Argus. As such the Jenderrega decided that it was time to start making progress.

Through diplomatic channels a share of information was requested, including battle plans that the Mokovian government was using and/or formulating. A meeting was requested between the military leadership of the two countries that would be held in Mokov. For the most part Aizcona wanted to know how the problem grew this large and how they were planning to deal with it. Especially concerning was the fact that outside of a large amount of the Mokov military switching loyalty, there was likely foreign aid coming into the rebels and Estral intelligence agents in Mokov were unable to pick up the source. A request for any information on that was requested.

Furthermore, high altitude intelligence gathering planes were put on missions to take pictures of the most recent major battle sight and major rebel encampments.

Overall the Estral military needed information on what capabilities these rebels had.

[Havalland]

The coming fall the Havallish volunteer force built up to 5,000 Havallish soldiers, all ready to dish out revenge for the embassy attacks, at this point they couldn't hold POWs any more.
In an effort to save food any surrendering soldiers were killed.

However most of the time the rebels couldn't even reach the Havallish trenches to surrender, getting obliterated by artillery or burned alive by napalm constantly under fire in the ruined countryside and forest of Mokov.

[Mokov]

Aizcona
The response from the Mokovi government was short. One-fourth of the military has defected to either the MDR or the Trosrod Host. The rest of the rebel troops are made up of paramilitaries and local militias. The current plan is to allow the MDR and the Trosrod Host to wear each other down before moving in to destroy both of them.

---

Havalland
The morning was cold, and the leaves on the surviving trees were orange. The silence was quickly, and abruptly broken by a blood-curdling shriek from the left flank. From out of nowhere, an entire army of cavalry appeared, waving a flag of red, blue, and yellow. The cossacks have arrived.

[Havalland]

The Calvary was easily mowed down by the modern tanks and assault rifles and the assistance of heavy machine guns.
Mainly aiming for the horses not caught in barb wire traps of blown to pieces by mines, artillery shells and tanks.
Word reached knight Lucas about the incompetence of the Cossacks that charged an armored division on horseback.

[Mokov]

Before the Havallish could do much more, artillery rains down on their trench, followed by strafing runs by groups of fighters. Finally, four lines of tanks, all painted with the same Red-Blue-Yellow flag, rumble forward, their main cannons firing both HE and gas shells. Behind them marched the rest of the Cossack army, made up of infantry.

[Havalland]

The Havallish line fell back, those who were doomed decided to go out on their own terms taking as many enemies as possible by pulling grenade pins and rushing groups.
Bombers targeted the tanks and artillery fired back, to ensure the rebels couldn't re-arm any artillery left behind was destroyed the Havallish weren't dumb and knew how to fight against a bunch of ragtag rebels.
Destroying armor and other vehicles was top priority, with them gone the rebels stand no chance.

[Mokov]

Following the successful push against the Havallish, the 'First Army of the Cossacks' began construction of a forward base, with the foundation being inside a shell hole created by their own artillery. During the short battle, a large number of tanks and artillery pieces were either destroyed or heavily damaged by the retreating Havallish.

Two days later, an announcement left Nemyvodsk, the capital of the Trosrod Host. In it, Hetman Bohdan Federov officially declared war on the Mokov Democratic Republic, the Kingdom of Mokov, and any of the powers supporting either, declaring "We will batter those who would oppress us into utter submission, and those foreign powers that would see us broken beneath the heel of the Bohemians or the Russians pushed into the sea!"

[Mokov]

After a full day of marching, the army finally ceased to make camp. A small city emerged, made entirely out of tents. Men lined up to recieve their dinners, and sat around fires chatting with their comrades. In the center of the camp sat the largest tent, with a simple sign declaring it as the command tent. Inside the tent, a heated discussion was taking place around a map of the nearby city of Litkov.

"The royalists don't have enough troops to even dare challenge a single of our columns, much less our entire force. I say we storm the city before the defenders even know what's happening to them." said General Popov, arranging a group of tiles signifying infantry and artillery to encircle the city.

"Popov, stick to your damn cannons. If we just go full force ahead, we're practically begging to be flanked by either the royalists or the cossacks. We must exercise extreme caution here, lest we be caught in a trap." said General Svatoslav, pushing the tiles away and glaring daggers at Popov.

"You know what I think? I think you're nothing more than a coward! If you had any faith in our men, you would know that there is no chance of defeat here!"

Very quickly, the discussion devolved into a shouting match between Generals Popov and Svatoslav, with a scowling Dzelnetz at the end of his already short rope.

"SHUT THE HELL UP, THE BOTH OF YOU! ACT LIKE THE OFFICERS YOU ARE, OR GOD HELP ME I WILL HAVE YOU BOTH SHOT!" roared the exhausted Field Marshal.

"What we are going to do, is bombard the city with artillery for two weeks, before sending the infantry in behind tanks. Our assault will be based on three main advances, each lead by armor."

As he spoke, Dzelnetz arranged the tiles so that the army was split into three points, equally spaced around the city walls.

---

Twelve miles away, another army marched. This one was ragged, unsynchronized, and starving. A tattered red flag flew at the head, held by a man made of more skin than bones. This sorry excuse for an army, was infact the Mokovi Red Army, led by General Yegor Borisovich Kalintov. Two months prior, the People's Front, which served as the communist party of the Mokov Democratic Republic, had been violently purged by the Grey Legion following a failed coup de'tat. The Red Army had been in the field when the news hit, and was quick to distance itself from the newly hostile MDR.

Now, the long march was nearly over, as the half-dead army had finally made its way into the lands of the Kingdom of Mokov. By some miracle, Král Ivan XII had agreed to grant full royal pardons to the surviving communists, on the condition that they assist in the destruction of the MDR, an offer which was quickly accepted.
Now, the march stops. Before the Red Army stands a small group of men holding the Royal Mokovi Flag. General Kalintov, barely standing, walks forward and firmly shakes the hand of the tall, bearded, pristinely dressed, man at the head of the Royalist group.

"Your Majesty, what's left of the Red Army stands at your service."

Letting his hand drop back to his side, Král Ivan XII looked at the horde of starving people behind Kalintov.

"Good. With them, I think this war can be won yet. Tell your men that they're heading to Litkov, we have an army to stop. Oh, and I'll be going with you."

[Mokov]

Four days. Four, long, painful days. Artillery had been raining down on Litkov for four days now, and the city was suffering. Violetta Szeczeznya knew that suffering on a personal level, more than most. In the first hours of the barrage, a shell had fallen into the living room of her home whilst she was seeing a doctor for a minor illness. Her husband and two children had been in the living room, praying for salvation from God when they were turned into vapor in an instant. Now, four days after she lost everything, Violetta was little more than a grief wracked husk of a woman. She heard the talks of surrender numbly, what point was there to surrendering now, after so many deaths? Why not just let the whole city burn like her family?

Unfortunately for her rather suicidal hopes, the city garrison was preparing for one last attempt at breaking the siege. Men were rushed to the walls, with only an armband or a painted helmet signifying their status as soldiers. Several artillery pieces, some of them more than twenty years old, that had been hidden within Litkov, began to speak. Shortly afterwards, the enemy artillery fell silent.
In the brief seconds before the charge, there was no sound to be heard throughout the entire city. This silence was quickly shattered by a guttural battle cry, uttered by two thousand mouths in unison. As the garrison sallied out to meet the enemy, so did the enemy charge to engage them.

Infantry carrying anti-armor rockets neutralized a large portion of the rebel tanks before being killed themselves. Machine-guns barked death, and rival guns answered with bullets of their own. The field outside of the city turned into hell. Boys as young as fifteen skewered men five times their age on the end of their bayonets without a thought. The smell of death filled the air, mingling with the screams of those soon to be producing it.

Two hundred feet from the battle, a trio of uniformed men sat and observed the carnage. The man in the center of the group, an old, grizzled fellow, grasping a field marshal's baton in his left hand began to speak.

"See, I told you my strategy would work. Those blasted fools think to force us back with an eighth of our numbers. That they managed to disable our artillery was an inconvenience, but one that will prove not to be a fatal one. I-! What do you want, private? Why are you not in the thick of it?"

In the midst of his short speech, a stocky man in the simple outfit of a private walked briskly up to the aging field marshal, drew his pistol, and shot the old man in the forehead. Before he was shot to pieces by the rest of the camp, he managed to fire three more times, striking General Popov in the upper right arm, and General Svatoslav in the chest and stomach.

At the same time, a cry of 'URRA' rang out from behind the Grey Legion forces, heralding the arrival of the revived Mokovi Red Army. Leading the charge into the rebel rear flank was none other than Král Ivan XII, decked out in the getup of a cavalry officer from two hundred years prior. It did not take much longer for the 1 Conquest Legion to collapse under the two front assault combined with the death or disablement of their leadership.

While enough of the 1 Conquest Legion survived to regroup back west of Krolecz to keep the war going, the Royalist forces were able to retake the city with little resistance. Finally, one of the three fronts in the civil war had stabilized, and with increasing Cossack raids on both the Royalists and the MDR, it looked like it was going to remain stable, for a time.

[Havalland]

The Havallish forces stood firm for months being dug in for the winter, the troops only took potshots at rebel soldiers if at all, as the RS-19s rained 23mm hell on the rebels and their camps and the ATS missile made quick work of armor, the CAS aircraft were always guarded by SF10s making it hard for enemy aircraft to go on the attack.
Though not impossible as many have tried and succeeded though more have failed in the attempt.

[Mokov]

As the Havallish wintered, attacks from the battered MDR slowed down, while Cossack raids, primarily using hit-and-run tactics increased. After one of those raids, the news of the coup and subsequent communist takeover reached the Havallish troops. While not openly hostile towards their erstwhile allies, the nationalistic nature of Kalintovism made relations rather tense.

[Havalland]

Almost over knight the embassy was removed and the large volunteer army had cut connections from the government. On that line a white flag was raised alongside the Havallish flag they also rose a Cossack flag they found among the dead to signify that they are not hostile, the troops turned their guns around ready for any government ‘re-enforcement‘.
War Marshal Clark Davids proclaimed to his troops “we will not stand by these godless communists, they wish to shed the blood of our king as they did one hundred years ago, we will not stand with this false ideology, we are under god’s protection, LONG LIVE THE KING!”
The soldiers cried out with a fury not seen in many years, as if they were ready to die in this foreign land just to prevent the rise of this ideology.

On the homeland the parliament was trying to contact the other rebels as King Leon hated this new government as the rest of his people, outside was a protest but not one of peace, as the Havallish people demanded the new government of mokov be torn from the roots proclaiming “we did it once, we can do it again, if they don’t die we will scorch their land”.

[Mokov]

The Cossacks would gladly accept the well equipped and able Havallish troops into their ranks, with Hetman Bohdan Federov proclaiming them honorary Cossacks.

The MPR on the other hand, declares war against Havalland in response to the betrayal. That night, in order to stand up against the Cossacks and the Havallish, a tenuous alliance with the MDR is signed, aiming to force the foreigners and their supporters into the sea.

[Havalland]

The now bolstered troops fought with resolve holding and pushing as the planes fire bombed their enemies, they were ready to roll over mokov turning it into a wasteland if they had to, they would however refrain from destroying the home of the Cossacks.

As soon as the message reach the parliament it was officially announced that the civil war had escalated and Havalland was at war, within hours people were signing up for service. In the Black Wolves HQ new order’s would come in to rescue the Mokov royal family, as the black wolves began mobilizing the Havallish Royal Armed Forces had been organizing a full land invasion of Mokov and The king gave his speech.

“On this day one hundred years ago mokov had supported Havalland against the NCP, now having fallen to the same level as our old enemy, today the eagle dared to challenge the mighty wolf so we shall bare our fangs and stand our ground. Havalland will dig her claws into the dirt, she will resist and she will bite!”
The crowd below cheered shouting “slay the eagle” and “down with the reds”.

[Mokov]

Before a crowd of thousands, an older man in a military uniform stands at a podium. “Peace loving workers and peasants of Mokov, I bring you dire news. The imperialist reactionaries in Havalland have seen fit to smother the revolution in the crib. They think that we will simply lay down and die before an invasion. That is not true. We will fight to the last man, woman, and child in the defense of our homeland and the revolution! Our mighty soldiers will force them into the sea and beyond; their oppressed workers and peasants will be liberated at long last! PEOPLE! NATION! TRUTH!”

Following this speech, the alliance between the MPR and the MDR was announced, and the troops of both were repositioned on the Cossack border, with officers being recalled for updated tactical training, and the first metal helmets reach the soldiers. It seems it took a war to drag Mokov out of the long past.

[Havalland]

11:35 PM the HMS Leon I aircraft carrier was sailing towards mokov waters, on board was both Black Wolves squads, each ready to carry out their mission to rescue the Mokov royalty. Alex Driver was head of Black Wolf Team Alpha who would extract the target while Black Wolf Team Omega would keep an eye out for trouble.

As 11:45 approached it was time to bored the helicopter, a VWV-S-05 stealth helicopter.
It would land in a field near the prison in order to not raise too much suspicion.
They would be there by midnight, failure was unacceptable.

[Mokov]

00:00, Mokov State Prison
Ivan sat in his dark, too small cell, worried sick about his wife’s safety, following a series of gunshots earlier that night. She was far less popular than himself, and a lot of communists wanted her dead. He sent up a silent prayer for her life before trying, unsuccessfully, to get some sleep.