Barras Bravas (MT/IC/CLOSED/INVITE ONLY)

[Lendiya]

OOC: This RP is inspired heavily by the conflicts of the IRL Balkan Peninsula and the rest of the Post-Soviet sphere, this RP is mainly reserved to the region of Kali Yuga (unless permitted otherwise). Those who manage it are Stojam, Carloso and Nifon.

*** Isola di Carano, Eulabian Union

Sitting across a strait of water from the picturesque city of Menta, was a large island called Isola di Carano. It was mostly covered in a thick forest of evergreen holly oak trees. On the side of the island facing Menta was a large marina, full of yachts and different leisure craft. Further inland, nestled in the heart of the island, was a grand estate that covered many hectares of land. At the centre was a sprawling mansion built in a Châteauesque style. Outside, an extensive security detail of elite mercenaries prowled the grounds for any intruders. Every now and then, a helicopter also circled around the island and illuminated the forest with various infrared cameras. All were in the service of none other than David Redshield, the enigmatic owner of the powerful Redshield Foundation. It had now been about three years since the business had come under his control, after several months of total chaos following the death of his relative James Redshield by a Nifonese drone, all on the orders of Shogun Maki Kojiro. In a stroke of bad luck, the most obvious heir - Charles Redshield - was arrested for involvement in human trafficking. Slowly but surely, David had cobbled together the broken pieces of his family’s multi-trillion dollar empire from the vultures that had swooped in to buy it up. Now he was determined not to make the same mistakes as before, and bring the Redshield family to all-new levels of profit.

Redshield watched from a fourth-floor window as a civilian Mil Mi-8 helicopter flew in from over the horizon and landed on a pad about two kilometres away from the mansion. As soon as it touched down, a stern and determined-looking middle-aged man who was donning a black tailored suit accompanied with a red tie disembarked from the rotorcraft. A number of heavily-armed security personnel escorted him along a gravel path to the Redshield mansion. The individual smirked beneath a pair of aviator sunglasses that he was wearing. Approaching the entrance, he couldn't help but be taken back by the scale and extravagance of the place. The grounds were neatly gardened and the smell of freshly cut grass filled the air. A pair of huge doors closed behind him as he walked into the mansion. He walked up the stairs to Redshield’s office. To say that the man he was about to meet was powerful and wealthy was a gross understatement. After several minutes of wandering the corridors, he eventually found himself outside the office of David Redshield.

David Redshield sat on the far end of the huge room. “Come in.” he said, his hands clasped together on the desk. A huge banner hung above a fireplace behind him, emblazoned with the coat of arms of the Redshield family. As the man entered, he could sense the place’s almost ominous aura, with various other banners and all types of fancy exotic items neatly decorating it. He looked left, right and then over his shoulder for a brief moment before stepping inside the office with a hint of nervousness.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Redshield. I suppose you called Prime Minister Petrovij down here, I will be here to represent him.” The man started speaking as he walked in deeper inside the room. Viktor Petrovij, the Prime Minister of Lendija, was the head of government of the humble country of Lendija, a small country located in the north-eastern corner of the Kryvian subcontinent, plagued by ethnic unrest and corruption. It had many problems and Prime Minister Petrovij could not possibly leave Lendija to meet with some financial giant like Redshield for now. He opted to send his personal representative, Emilijan Borisovij, a well-respected Lendijan government official who had a certain degree of experience in diplomacy.

Redshield examined the man as he stepped towards his desk. He could already sense Borisovij’s unease. “Welcome to my home, Mr. Borisovij.” Redshield replied, “Care for a drink while you’re here?”

"Of course." The Lendijan representative took a seat in front of Redshield as he eyed the bottle of very fine and locally distilled whiskey on the table. By the looks of it, it was probably even more expensive and luxurious than a good bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label. Redshield smiled at Borisovij’s response. He poured the alcohol into two whiskey glasses and handed one to his guest. “Whiskey isn’t a very popular drink of choice for people in this part of Eulabia, but there is a good distillery in Menta that’s been producing some fine varieties of the stuff as of late.” he commented, taking a swig of the beverage himself. “Anyway, let us get down to business.”

“Yes, so...” Borisovij started off the sentence with those two words before taking a moment to grab his whiskey glass. “I believe you are well aware of the economic situation our humble nation is in. The unemployment rate is pretty bad, the debt is high and many criminal organizations from our wonderful neighbour state decide to exploit that. I believe it is in our best interests if you decide to help with the economic situation of Lendija.” Borisovij said, summarising the problems that were to be discussed about. He took a small sip from his whiskey glass and awaited Redshield's response.

“I am aware of the situation your country is in.” David smirked, “I believe there is a way we can mutually benefit from the situation. We could start by dealing with the Stojamian problem, especially their control of your country’s lucrative natural gas reserves. Don’t you think they’d be safer if they were in someone else’s ownership?” Redshield smirked.

"Oh indeed… Very true indeed. And I think that is a very good idea, Mr.Redshield." Borisovij shined a toothy grin.
"I have actually came prepared with what you asked…." Emilijan Borisovij smiled as he then pulled out a set of documents that he was carrying with him and put it on the table.
"Everything you need there about the person of interest. Ignjat Bogdanovij. I don't know what he's part of. But he is rumored to be a big fish in the Stojamian Bratva." Borisovij continued smirking as he took another sip from his whiskey glass.

Redshield took a moment to flick through the documents Borisovij had put on his desk. “I know this name.” David said, “He is involved in many criminal enterprises internationally.” Redshield knew more than he was letting on. He was aware Bogdanovij was in fact a member of C13, the secretive organisation of corporate and criminal leaders who were the archrivals of the Redshield Foundation in their competing visions for world domination. “I’m not surprised in his involvement in the gas industry.” he continued, “Tell me, Mr. Borisovij, do you like football?”

"Love it. I am a passionate fan of FK Orao, the club that represents Lendija in many matches across Kryvia and the world." Borisovij said with glee in his eyes as Redshield mentioned a subject he likes.
"How is that related, Mr.Redshield?" Borisovij asked.

“I want to buy FK Orao, Mr. Borisovij.” Redshield explained, “With your government’s permission, of course, I have plans to stage an ‘incident’ at a football match between FK Orao and an opposing team from Stojam at some time in the future. I can help your Prime Minister set your country on the course of not having to deal with Stojamian interference and political opposition any longer. What is the biggest football club in Stojam?”

Borisovij's eyes widened… He wanted to buy a Lendijan club?!
This could be a great opportunity for the Lendijan economy, to save itself from debt and free itself from Stojamian domination of the natural gas market. But… Stage a football incident? Something was fishy, but Borisovij couldn't care less.
"Black Star Zelenograd. Luckily for us, there will already be a match between FK Orao and Black Star Zelenograd in a few weeks… I can arrange hooligan groups and various thugs having a safe passage into Protsna. The country it's at, I doubt that these incompetent fools at Protsna know what they are doing." Borisovij was mocking Protsna and it's homeland security. But Borisovij was cooperating with Redshield on a massive scale, doing it all voluntarily.

“Good.” Redshield replied, “When the waves of anti-Stojamian sentiment start to wash over your country, my people will move in and take over the gas refineries. If the Stojamians put up a fight, my PMCs will be at hand to offer their services to you.”

"I doubt they will go down without a fight. Hopefully we won't see a direct intervention from the Stojamian Army." Borisovij commented as he heaved a sigh. A Stojamian invasion of Lendija is suicide right now; militarily, politically and economically. The Stojamians would be seen as aggressors and imperialists, while establishing an invasion in Lendija's vast mountainous and inaccessible terrain will also be one tough task to deal with. But there might be some form of reaction from them and the Stojamians of Lendija.

Redshield thought for a moment. “The Stojamians in Lendija might put up a fight, but I can pull strings in the international markets to send a signal to the government of Stojam that getting involved in Lendija’s affairs would be bad for them.”

"It could work. But they will have their ways of shoving their nose into the conflict. They even have a whole division or brigade or so stationed right next to the border." Borisovij uttered.

“As I said, Mr. Borisovij, I know what I am doing. Stojam is a politically weak country in its own way. I will make sure that it's in their best interests to stay out of Lendija, and they will pay the price if they choose to meddle in our affairs.” Redshield assured his guest. He rose from his chair and walked over to a window overlooking the garden in front of his mansion. “I will immediately begin setting the wheels in motion for the realisation of our plans for your country.”

“Very well then. I’ll tell the Prime Minister of our agreements. I wish only the best for this mutual cooperation between us. Have a blessed day.” Borisovij rose from his seat as he motioned himself towards the exit.
Many words were said during this meeting, but one thing is sure…
Out of this meeting? The future will change.

NNM News
(@nnmNews)
Zadarje, Protsna



RIVAL STOJAM-LENDIJA FOOTBALL CLUBS TO PLAY IN ZADARJE

Zadarje, Protsna - Amidst concerns over potential violence amongst rival fans, the Football Federation of Kryvia (FFK) has upheld its decision to allow next week's upcoming championship game between Stojamian club Black Star Zelenograd and the Lendijan club FK Orao to go ahead and play against each other in the known Tomasevic Arena in Zadarje, Protsna.The Chief of the Zadarje Police Department, Merdžan Besic, assured the public this evening that his police department were more than adequately resourced to deal with any potential disturbances from supporters of either club. While resident groups have expressed grave concern over the prospects of widespread property damage; hoteliers, restaurants and bars are expecting a bumper weekend of sales. Tension and excitement inside Lendija and Stojam were expressed too, with many fans eager for their nation to win. However extremist football hooligan groups have been seen releasing videos of their "preparation training" on the internet for the upcoming match, claims from the Zadarje Police Department are that the football hooligan groups will "not step an inch close to the arena, nor set foot in our beautiful nation."

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Zadarje, Protsna

The summer sun finally shone down on the nations of the Kryvian subcontinent, breaking a period of stormy weather. It came just in time for the continental championship in football for the Kryvian subcontinent, a very popular event that was not hosted for quite some timeb ecause of the nature of the people dwelling in Kryvia… Pure hatred for each other.
Many backroom deals were made in order to achieve this game, foreign ministers and leaders of nations, running around and meeting in offices, talking on phones. This championship had all kinds of political and cultural significance… The end of hatred in the Kryvian subcontinent, specifically between the two arch rivals.

Now let’s talk about Lendija and Stojam… Two neighboring nations with rich history.
During the ancient times, Lendija was a site of a Elinkan Colony of Lendos, which subsequently under the reign of Dimitrios I turned into a Hellenistic kingdom, which subsequently was conquered by the Pavian Empire. After the fall of the Pavian Empire, the area was overrun by the Slavic tribes coming in from all sides. Territory of modern day Lendija was conquered and incorporated into Stojam by Tsar Slavomyr I the Great, beginning the long period of Stojamian presence in the country. Subsequently, Lendija was a vassal state to the Duchy of Morgovia. The hardly accessible, mountainous region still however kept it's own sense of a distinct identity.
Lendija was an area that was never directly conquered by the Ayatollahs of Isfahan that declared their own Jihad and conquest of the Kryvian subcontinent, due to plentiful and hardly accessible terrain. The entire period of Isfahani presence in the region was a period of constant guerilla warfare organized by multiple Prince - Bishops (Vladikas), who held both spiritual and temporal power. During that time, Lendija remained under firm dominance of Stojamian culture and language, going as far as having Lendijan classics written in Stojamian.
On the wave of anti-Isfahani struggle and growing wave of romantic nationalism, two differing visions of Lendijan national identity have emerged. First one claims that Lendijans are actually descendants of ancient Elinkans who inhabited the colony of Lendos and subsequent hellenistic kingdom; the other emphasized connections with Stojam and Slavic heritage of the Lendijans. The two visions are still prevalent in modern Lendija, where most people have no idea of who they really are.
Lendija supported Pyotr XIV Vielkiy's, (the subsequent and self proclaimed Tsar of the Stojamian kingdom since 1848) campaigns against Morgovia and Isfahan. Using the occasion, Vladika Zoran proclaimed himself to be Prince Zoran I of the newly created Principality of Lendija.
Communism, which took over Stojam in a revolution years later (after descendants of the Tsar Pyotr XIV brought the country to bankruptcy and total corruption), failed to gain power in Lendija, although a strong communist party was active in Stojam. Throughout the entire cold war, Lendija was Finlandized by it's stronger neighbor. In 1984, the last member of Zoranovij dynasty died out without a heir; and the country became a republic.

Between 2008 and 2010, a new set of nationalist policies were carried out in Lendija. First one was the idea of "Antikvizacija" where characters from antiquity like Dimitrios I were claimed as Lendijan; the second one was codification of a Lendijan language. The last reform had carried widespread criticism in academic circles, as many linguists consider Lendijan to be a dialect of Stojamian, and feel that the changes were forced and artificial, motivated by a nationalist agenda to create a sort of “seperation” from Stojam.

So far? The two nations don’t have a history of hate on them, but rather a history of brotherhood. Later then separated by the tide of Post-Communist Nationalism and the premises of a “separate identity”.

[New Aeyariss]

When one looked at Viktor Petrovij, people did not instantly see the criminal mind that wrapped the small country of Lendija around his fingers. Petrovij was a short, sturdy man, with square face, a pair of small, deeply set eyes, the peak of his head decorated with a wave of curly, brown hair. On the photos, the politician seemed to be eternally smiling. Yet deep inside his head, Petrovij had no morality, no moral compass to speak of. For him, the ideology of Christian Revolutionary Union - Alliance for Freedom existed merely on paper, as a lie to sell to people to obtain their backing.

So was it proven here - on a lavish party inside his mansion, where, surrounded by wine, loose women and dance, he and his party friends were celebrating alongside patriarch Dragomir - a tall, fat and extremely lecherous man who got to be the Patriach of the Lendiyan Orthdox church. Both men ran their enterprises as businesses, and respected each other for being equally corrupt.

"A toast to our beloved leader!" shouted the Patriarch Dragomir, rising a golden cup full of wine. The priest was so drunk that nothing could even reach him any more "I say to you that this strategy of yours about transforming our party from liberal to nationalist was perfect! Look at all the votes we are getting!"

"Eh, I do not intend to be a nationalist forever!" joked back Petrovic "Redshield pays me too well to continue on that path. Once we boot Stojam out, I plan on going back to liberal. Progressively of course, so that our electorate will have time to adjust. "

"And boot them out we shall!" replied the joyous priest "with our backing, Stojam will not intervene directly even if we slaughter them all! Hicc!"

"I am afriad it is not as easy as you make it sound." a voice came from the corner of the table, where a tall man with a slim face as sitting. Plamen Boikovij was the sole sober man in this party. Officially working as "national security adviser", Plamen was in fact Petroij's brain; day and night formulating strategies for his employer.

"Why is that dear friend?" even with his greed and pride, Petrovij was wise enough to listen when that man spoke.

"Because, dear friend, you booted most competent officers in the military. Do you think that if you proceed with your plan, Stojam won't intervene indirectly? Our army right now could be beaten by a second hand militia and trust me, if not Bogdanovij, someone else will form it. "

"How are you!!" a wave of roars of outrage followed from the table, but Viktor quieted it by a single wave of his hand.

"Who do you propose? Yasenic? Hristoforij?" asked the prime minister.

"I am afraid that that the first one is too inept to hold the post of the supreme commander, and General Hristoforij... while compentent in his area, is needed for us to command the SOF forces. No, we need someone else.." Plamen paused "I want you to rehabilitate the Lynx of Tsvetanka."

Another wave of outrage followed - only this time the PM joined it himself:

"Have you gone mad!?" he shouted "He is too dangerous to be left out. That man has is too idealistic and has no loyalty to us. What if he turns on us? "

General Stanko Yavoric. Considered a genius among his peers, famed for his love for Lendija. Currently in prison due to his interference with Petrovij's trafficking of Muslim women to brothels in EU.

"I am aware of Stanko's... flaws." responded calmly Plamen "However you miss the opportunities. First off, his idealism can be used against him. Furtermore, we need him only for a bit. Are you saying that you and Hristoforij can't stage his assassination later? "

Petrovij looked at his advisor sitting there calmly, unfazed by the outrages. Sometimes he wondered if this man had any emotions at all. Plamen always appeared calm and mysterious as a reflection of a moon in water at night.

"Very well then. Proceed. But if he gets loose you will pay with your head, Plamen."

"As you wish." Came only a short response, as Plamen excused himself.

"Ugh... I am tired of the politics. I need to vent." Viktor turned to the head of the Church "Will you please call the women?"

---

At time same time, in forests around the captial, a different meeting was taking place. A man so large that he could play a troll in lord of the rings without characterisation was standing in front of a sea well built men with shaved heads. Each of them was clad in white-teal tracksuit, colors of FK Orao.

"Who **** are *** we!?" shouted the man, using vulgar words as a normal person uses the dots.

"ORAO SHARKS! ORAO SHARKS!" shouted the crowd in reply.

"WHOM WE ***** HATE?" the man continued.

"BLACK STAR ZELEONOGRAD! BLACK STAR ZELEONOGRAD!" again came the answer.

"LISTEN *****!!!!" the speech begun "OUR ***** CLUB GOT A NEW ***** SPONSOR! AND OUR ***** SPONSOR ASKED US TO BASH THOSE ZELENOGRADI *****! NOW I **** CAN'T HAVE A BUNCH OF ***** WIMPS COME WITH ME TO ****** PROSTNA! THEFORE **** FORM TWO **** LINES!"

And the men split into two groups. Already knowing what will happen, they raised their hands high, assuming combat stances and warming up. Some checked the bandages on their hands.

"BEGIN!" shouted the leader.

And the crowds descended into a fury of hands, legs and take downs. First cries of pain were heard and first hooligans fell to the ground, to the ruthlessly pounded by their opponents. One of them caught his attacker in a guard and attempted a kimura. Tihomir Blagunovic looked with pride at his crew. They will work well at the upcoming match...

[Stojam]

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖
[XXXX:XXXX, “Club Pussycat”, Chernogorsk, Stojam]
The mountainous yet “hot” breeze of Stojam set itself upon its residents.
That country was always known for its beauty and ancient Slavic culture.

It was a regional “role model”... But unnecessarily free of corruption.
If anything? It’s one of the most corrupt states in Kryvia.

Oligarchs and mafiosos rule the land freely, with each political party a front for one of them.
A “free for all”, everyone wants a slice of the pie!

Though one man… One man wanted it all.

His name was Ignjat “The Doberman” Bogdanovij. He has a face only a mother could love. Tall, athletic, wearing designer clothes… A “baptized” Stojamian mobster, basking himself as a “legitimate businessman”, he led the infamous Chernogorsk Clan (also known as the Bogdanovij Clan), a criminal organization with power that stems beyond Stojam and maybe even Kryvia.

Stojamian crime syndicates are one of the oldest in Kryvia… Starting from the days of the Tsars and the Communist regime that was before the now Stojamian republic.
All types of criminals were hauled into camps, left to starve in inhumane conditions.
They made their own society with its own laws, that is now secretive up until this day.

They were the “Thieves in Law”, though disunited, they communicated with each other and knew to come to agreements when the time was right.
They were the elite of the Stojamian underworld. Ignjat was one of them, sitting in a strip club and accompanied by his favorite Eulabian whores.

Then he was interrupted by his right hand man, the “street boss of the organization.”
Qasim “Dirty Qasi” Suleimanovij, an olive skinned beast of a man… A Shiite Muslim of Isfahani descent, though born and raised in Stojam.
He used to be a former rebel when the Isfahani seccession in the Premsk Oblast started, he was granted amnesty and returned to civilian life… Becoming very close with Bogdanovij’s organization and pledging his loyalty towards it, he was a very big ace in the sleeve when it came to making money.

“Boss. The upcoming match in Lendija is underway.” The buff and buzzcut donning man in the leather jacket said as Ignjat sent the whores away from him.

“Is that so? Well… I bet quite some money on it, let’s see if it goes in my favor.” Ignjat said with a devilish grin on his face.
He was the embodiment of dishonesty, the sin of greed plunged into one person.
“There’s some bad news too. I heard your shares and businesses in Lendija might not be so… Protected, after all.” The right-hand man continued to speak of the “news”.

“These mountain yokels do not bother me. They know better than to do anything to me, I can turn their entire country upside down. Don’t pay attention to them.” Ignjat dismissively said as he wafted his hand around.
So sure of his own victory, so sure of his position within the Council of 13 and his influence.
He was truly a devilish man.

The right hand man simply nodded and walked off. There was nothing else to be discussed about.

Only Ignjat’s own downfall that will come much later due to his arrogance.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖



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✞———————❖———————✞
[XXXX:XXXX, UNKNOWN LOCATION, Vicinity of Berane, Lendija]

And thus… A new tale begins.
Of a man who knows the ins and outs of the art of combat.

Of a man who was considered a “hero”.
Once a commander of a prestigious special operations battalion that was dissolved years later after the great period of Isfahani minority uprisings in Stojam and Lendija.

He knew everything about symmetric to asymmetric warfare, and he fought well.

His name was Vuk “Remington” Lukovij, a Lendijan-born Stojamian… Well… Aren’t all Lendijans basically Stojamians?
Or that’s what he thought, he always identified as a Stojamian, he never really acknowledged the concept of a seperate “Lendijan identity”.

He was always for the concept of Pan-Slavism and “Slavic Unity”, always proud of who he was.
But he was never proud of the Lendijan government.

And so, he sat around a round table in his little house on the outskirts of Berane, a city in Lendija.
It was dinner after Mass, after all, Vuk was a devout Orthodox Christian, he always was on time for all the prayers. Even donating to the main Patriarchate in Stojam, as for now the Stojamian and Lendijan Orthodox churches were under the same Patriarch.

Eating buckwheat and chicken, a classic meal for the region.
He was discussing matters with former unit comrades around the table.

“I think Lendija is straying away from its roots. It was always a part of Stojam, hell…. Everything about Lendija is the same as Stojam! I don’t get the whole campaign Petrovij is trying to push about a separate identity.” One of the men who sat around the table spoke, a man named Milan Dordevij. He was one of Vuk’s closest friends, a person who experienced the tides of war in his battalion with him.

“Petrovij is a corrupt bastard. His whole alliance is a sham, he’s trying his hardest to appeal to the western liberals like the lapdog he is.” Vuk, the infamous “Remington” declared as he took a bite out of the chicken.

“If I was the Prime Minister? Things would be different around here. And most importantly? I would recognize historical facts. Lendija is no different than Stojam, we are Stojamians, bound in blood.” Vuk continued to declare as the men he sat with nodded and agreed with him on the matter.

Vuk “Remington” Lukovij was always a charismatic man, he knew how to lead people and how to manage them…

Soon… He will rise and begin his own story.
The story of a man who wanted change.
✞———————❖———————✞

[Lendiya]

Tomasevic Arena, Zadarje, Protsna, [18:00 PM].

The day of judgement finally came. The football arena was bustling with activity.
People dressed with scarfs and painted faces of their national flag were found all around the arena seats.

Accompanied with that, police presence in the city was very common. Barricades were set up, patrols around the areas around the arena and in it were taking place.
The Zadarje Police Department was ordered to not let a riot occur… How little do they know….

And so, after a few moments of preparations, with the teams of Black Star Zelenograd and FK Orao preparing and stepping onto the field… The match began, each athlete in his respective position, the referees blew their whistles.
Black and red versus white and teal.

The game started slow, with each team struggling to up the score, they were all playing intensely as crowds of excited fans were cheering for their favorite team.

But then…. The Stojamian part was bustling and rustling, it seems they came up with a new song.
They all sang the song at the top of their lungs, making it clear to the Lendijan side of their message.

“Whoever doesn’t jump now, is a dirty Orao fan!” Those words were first heard in full volume, with bangings of drums heard in the background, sort of like a chorus.
“The Eastern side is very crazy, no one will leave Tomasevic alive! Welcome to your hell, whoever doesn’t jump is white!” They were insulting the side of FK Orao, referring to the color of their team… White and teal, they were always refered to as “whites''.

“On the Eastern side, everyone knows that there are a couple of traitors here. They apologized in Cetynia, they don’t represent us!

Listen here you band of g*psies, we don’t apologize at all! And the chorus always remains, WE HOPE YOUR VILLAGE BURNS!” And a full echo of those words were heard all around the arena as the Stojamians shouted them with full force.

“We hope your village burns! We hope that your village burns! Cetynia is burning down, Cetynia is burning down!” The Stojamians continued singing the same song as the back and forth between the players started… Each team scoring a goal.
The score was 1-1, the air was filled with tension, like a riot was starting at any moment….
But then…

One of the referees blew his whistle, he declared a penalty kick for FK Orao at the last minute.
What was this unjust display? Was there even a reason for this penalty kick to happen?

Nobody knew, but the Stojamians were cursing the referee anyways.

As all the players lined up for the penalty kick, the Lendijan football player took a few steps back.
He then sprinted towards the ball and kicked with full force at the Stojamian gate…

2-1 for FK Orao. It seemed that FK Orao indeed got the upper hand on this one, a total gamechanger, they won at the last minute.

What made people join the ranks of football hooligans? To normal people such a thing was incomprehensible. After all, the life of a football hooligan was always full of danger. Rival firms could get you, the police would arrest you and lock you up for good. The answer, however, lied in the psychology of the locals.

Lendija was a poor country, it’s population forced into massive, concentrated flats, where crime and poverty were rampant. The locals often worked for many hours, profiting them a laughable sum. Religion long ago became only tradition and ritual. What made them forget about their misery was football. To some, football became a new religion, their clubs - new idols. And fight against rival clubs - holy war.

Such a man was Tihomir Blagunovic. Born in the suburb of Centynia, raised among poverty and crime. Even since his birth, the only relief from his existential crisis was football. And now, his club was in need.

Blagunovic was in many riots during his career as a football hooligan. Despite his brutish appearance, he could easily analyze the chances - even if by hunch. The police here were under-equipped, lacking even riot shields. The stadium was full of broken concerete and old benches made of desks - perfect weapons if used correctly. Everything was in place.

He gave the order.

As the stadium erupted in cries of outrage from the Stojamian side, another sound joined it - a loud buzzing. Everyone was surprised to see a single commercial UAV flying over the stadium. Under it, there was a massive banner displaying a painting of a particularly disliked Vyelunchan general kicking a Zelenograd Black Star player, with words “you were bested again” under it.

The flames were lit.

“THE NERVE THESE POOR G*PSIES HAVE!” One of the fans on the Stojamian side shouted, he was none other than Stefan Grecevij…

Leader of one of the hooligan groups that arrived in Protsna on behalf of the Stojamian side, they were known as the “Black Devils”, nicknamed “Delije” in Stojam and Lendija.
Unlike Tihomir, he looked brutish and acted the part. An impatient and violent man, something that might earn him a very steady downfall. He was a bald-headed mountain of a man.

“TELL THE BOYS, WE ARE GOING TO END THEM! RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW! GO GO GO!” Stefan pushed the hooligan next to him as he put on his Black Star Zelenograd sealed balaclava on his face.
The Stojamian side was bustling with activity as people with switchblades, bottles, bats, and many other weapons were rushing towards the Lendijan side, traveling across the seats.

Chairs were thrown, rocks were thrown, bottles were thrown. The stadium was filled with broken glass and furniture as hands were thrown and blood was spilt.

There was only one problem for the Delije - a massive fence that separated the two sectors. Smarter Blagunovic already planned the encounter. As the horde of Delije hooligans rushed forward to tear it down, they came under a relentless hailstorm of concentrated pieces torn from the stadium. Tihomir himself took a massive swing,hurling a particularly large stone right at Stefan’s head..

The Delije were under intense fire from the Lendijan side, they didn’t expect the organizers of the match to erect a fence that separated the two sides.
As the horde of the Delije hooligans rushed and tried to break down the fence, many were hit by the hailstorm of pieces from the stadium. Stefan Grecevij himself was hit with a particularly large stone right on his head, he almost collapsed and fell as the assault continued on.

Luckily his right-hand man, Mateja Dordevij, caught wind of that. He ordered him to be carried away by a bunch of other Delije, he took command of the assault on the Lendijans now.
In case anything happened to Stefan? Mateja took over the entire group, that was the written rule of this branch of the Black Devils.
They toppled the fence after a few minutes of intense pushing under fire.
And now the real battle started, with Delije hordes rushing across, climbing and shoving in order to get blood on their hands.

Things were thrown, knives were used, bottles were smashed. Blood all over the grass and the pavement was seen, flares were lit up in the sky too.

The assault continued, now battle erupting into a chaotic melee. There was no organization, no order - everything fell apart and devolved into a mass of brawling. Smoke from flares filled the stadium to the point that no one could see a thing.

However, the clashing was interrupted by a sound of batons clashing against shields. Due to the size of the crowds, the local police refused to move. Alarmed, the commissioner in charge called in the counter-terrorists.They arrived, marching grimly in black riot gear, as other policemen poured into the stadium behind them.

And with a loud shout, they charged the brawling crowd.

And then the riot police arrived… Clad in black riot gear they charged in with their batons, throwing in tear gas bombs and striking down any person they see, pushing and shoving and beating.
There was no mercy from that group, hooligans from both sides started fleeing in fear as they saw the men in the black gear.
Along the flare smoke, a cloud of pepper spray spread itself around the open arena, making it hard for anyone in the vicinity to breath as the counter-terrorists used it with no remorse.

However, some of the hooligans stood their ground. With a bold hooligan sneaking up on a riot geared officer from behind and smashing his helmeted head with a cement brick taken from the stadium.
He was later rushed down to the ground by the other riot geared officers and beaten harshly with steel batons, later arrested by the local police as they stepped in with the help of the counter-terrorists.

The stadium was left in ruins, the riots were slowly quelled down as many men were left beaten, knocked out, some might be even dead.

Glass shards and blood were spread all across the stadium, parts of furniture left ruined…
Today marks the start of a downward spiral.


The fires of Lendija start now.

OOC: Post co-written with Cuscy (New Aeyarissis), nothing written here reflects my personal views.

[New Aeyariss]

Rotor loudly cut the air as Plamen Boikovij emerged from inside the helicopter, accompanied by two security personnel - massive, muscular men clad in black men. In front of him, Mrozovo prison complex presented a grim reality of those who dared to oppose Petrovij - or paid insufficient bribes for that matter. Massive, grey walls, barbed wire, guards proudly totting their assault rifles and endless barking of service dogs announced to the whole world that those who entered through the security checkpoints should abandon all hope.

His convoy passed through the walls, and after giving proper documents to the guards, he was led to a small room, evenly split into two. In front of him was a desk, which separated him from the prisoner sitting across it; a layer of bulletproof glass mounted on top of it. In front of the desk sat a man with a narrow, oval face, a wave of grey hair decorating the top of his head, small, deeply set eyes, massive moustache and a short beard. He was probably in his late 50s judging by his age.

"Welcome again, mr. Yavoric!" smiled Plamen "How are you enjoying your stay in prison?"

"Sufficient enough" the man wasn't talking a lot. If he held any spite for Plamen, he did not show it.

"That is good to know" continued the PM's adviser in an emotionless tone "You know, Yavoric, I always wondered how you do it. You were put into the worst prison in this country and yet you didn't break."

"Compared to hell in Tsvetlanka it is nothing, to honest..." replied the former General "If you and your lot had any principles you would have understood."

"Yet your principles, General, are what landed you here" cold riposte proceeded from Plamen's mouth "You are now in prison, and government keeps doing what it has been doing."

"And it is worth it..." smiled the army officer.

"That is good, because I came too you with an offer. Have you heard of the recent riot?" General's eyes moved in interest "I can secure your release and clearing from all accusations. You will not only be restored, but also promoted to cheiff of general staff. Petrovij intends to poke our larger neighbour, and we all know he will respond in kind."

And then Stanko's face turned red.

"HOW DARE YOU!" he souted..

"Mr. Yavoric, clam down." Bolkovic's face went unfazed, his tone as cold as ever.

"HOW DARE YOU USE ME AS PAWN IN YOUR GAMES! DON'T YOU SEE YOU HAVE CAUSED ENOUGH SUFFERING! YOU SOLD CITIZENS OF OUR COUNTRY INTO FOREIGN BROTHELS, ALL TO FINANCE YOUR POLITICAL CAMPAIGNS! I WILL NOT BE PAR OF YOUR CORRUPT..."

"Mr. Yasenic" stanko suddenly moved, calmly, but with enough firmness that even the general reccoiled "General, whatever your past grievances, consider your situation carefully. Petrovij will proceed weather you want it or not. Stojam will too and what are your ideals worth if Stojamese come and annex this land? Lendija will be no more. Truth is, you are the only commander I can trust.." Plamn paused for a second "Precisely because of who you are and your ideals. We both know how most of our officers got their seats. While I can't deny it is good for them to be loyal, it will be worth nothing when facing Stojamese weapons. We known we can't count on loyalty, but we know we can count on your integrity.."

Plamen looked into the eyes of Lynx of Tsventlanka "That is why I lobbied for your restoration when the entire cabinet opposed it."

The war hero paused for a moment, deeply in thought. After what seemed a minute of grave silence, he spoke:

"I have two demands" he stated "First I want to selected my own personnel. Second, I my plans will not be interfered with as long as they concern only the strategic situation."

"Of course. I do believe we have a deal then?"

"We do."

As he left the meeting room, Plamen smiled inside his head. "First part of my plan is complete." he laughed as entered the helicopter.

---

<sound of news annoucing. Camera zooms on the anchor>

Presenter: Good morning, this is channel 2, and we bring you your daily news! Death toll of the recent riot in Prostna, where dangerous mob of Stojamian hooligans attacked fans of FK Orao reached 30 as another person died in the hospital from a knife wound. We are now connecting to our reporter in Prostna.

<split screen, reporter appears on background of a demolished football stadium>



Presenter: Radina, what happened there?

Reporter: It is like looking at a place hit by typhoon <camera zooms on ripped out chairs, rubble, demolished fence> an angry mob of Stojamian hooligans came and rushed at fans of FK Orao, who were forced to defend themselves. It took minutes until the police managed to stabilize the situation, and thousands of bystanders were caught in the riot. The police of prostna did not include even basic security measures as body checks as multiple hooligans were reported to posses dangerous items such as switch-blades.


Presenter: Do you think it was an organized incident?

Reporter: Of course! It was reported that members of most active Stojamian nationalist organisations, even supporters of LDS were here. In fact it looks like the aggression was organized not under football, but under nationalist pretense. Stojamanian hooligans were repeatedly chanting their desire for Cetynia to burn after all.

Presenter: Thank you. We are now moving to Ceytnia, where the Prime Minister is holding a press conference on the issue:



Petrovij: My dear countrymen;

Yesterday, our country found itself under assault. What went on in Tomasevic Arena wasn't just a mere football riot; it was an organized assault on our nationality by a coalition of Stojamian criminals and nationalists, who see our claim to possess a separate identity as a challenge to their attempts to exploit our country. Our domestic intelligence services uncovered credible evidence that the aggression was organized and financed by Chernogorsk Clan, and by members of LDS and other Stojamian nationalist groups. For them to partake in acts of violence is unforgivable.

As such I vow that organizers of this assault will be swiftly brought to justice, wherever they may hide. It is time to demonstrate that our country is and will be more than a criminal black market the word considers us to be.

God bless Lendija!

*** Next morning, 03;00 AM

---

Stanislav Zadaric was a Stojamian by birth and an owner of a prosperous granite mine in the town of Malchytse, and a buisnesman. As he slowly woke up next to his wife driven by the need to use toilet, he rose from the bed, a couple of thoughts about next day passing by head.

He had connections to the mob - no more than any entrepreneur in Lendija, where 20%% of GDP was in the grey or black zone. In this country almost every business had to deal with the criminals. Tomorrow he was meeting one Bogdanovic's men about a new transfer of granite to Stojam. Of course, the transport was done without any consultation with the customs office and without paying tarffis, but here everyone did it; so no one really cared. Thinking he approached the doors of the toilet.

The doors were ripped out and flash bang flew in. And his world turned white among eternally ringing sound in his ears.

Next thing the buisnessman realized, he was being handcuffed by a massive man dressed in military unfiorm, clad in black tactical vest, with another one pointing his Skorpion at him. All round him chaos was raging; his wife was creaming, shots of flashbangs and "chisto!" were echoing around as the military police stormed his house.

"Mr. Zadaric" said the masked man "You are now under arrest. You have the right to remain silent."

All around Lendija members of LDS, Stojamian businessmen and criminals met the same fate.

[Bolrieg]

The Grand Palace, Shadforad, Bolrieg

Lord Chamberlain Yaszeld was watching the news in his private office, while the ongoing riots and crackdowns in Lendija upset his need for orderliness which has been inherited through his family alongside his hereditary title. However, this may prove useful to the plans of his employer who desires to create a Greater Bolrieg out of the Kyrvian subcontinent, using this as an opportunity to potentially create unity of brothers against both the Liberal Degenerates of the EU and the Communists of the East. Besides many businessmen arrested would most likely be partners to Bolrieg's own businessmen who are personal friends to the High King so calls for intervention will be arriving soon if not already.

Darnolf Square, Shadforad, Bolrieg

One of many rallies over the past year, Julipine Kladnov, businessman, leader of the Jalnatzic and the Rexist candidate for Prime Minister had been campaigning on economic populism and the desire to turn Bolrieg into an empire and superpower, known both in Bolrieg and the world for his views and statements alongside the way he presented these opinions, this will be no different after spending the last hour bashing Dfragre and the Liberal party he then moved on the crisis in Lendija.

"...So seeing what is happening there, do you believe it is solely internal? No I think those responsible come from outside, namely the pro-faggot EU. Which of course is owned by Amihan and the Redshields, which themselves aren't really human beings as these degenerates procreate by laying eggs due to their ancestors inbreeding to the point they became like that. The proof of this is how they support Cultural Gayness and the destruction of Traditional Christian values. I say to these idiots that they are not welcome here and if you bastards continue to get involved I will see to it the EU is destroyed and I will hang each and every Redshield I can find and if I find out the Lendijan President is working with the enemy I will hang him too, we must work with our allies that ensure we are all free from Marxist influences."

Back at the Grand Palace

Yaszeld was making his way to the High King's personal office, unfortunately news of Kladnov mouthing off had reached the monarch before he did and when he entered the room sitting with Hegrod was Fantom Nastreld the leader of the Opatseg (intelligence and secret police), he was discussing how the recent events was threatening business interests there. However, he has stated how both the Opatseg and Jalnatzic had been cooperating to come up with a solution to stack the odds in their favour. Agents working at the embassies in Stojam and Lendija have been ordered to make contact with the various gangs to help ensure either Bolriegians or those with Pro-Bolrieg sentiments were to come out on top. Money and weapons were to be the reward for their services.

[Stojam]

Chernogorsk, Stojam, Club "Pussycat"...A day after the Incident.

Once again, we return to Ignjat Bogdanovij's favorite hangout spot. A strip club that one of his "made-men" own.
This time he wasn't surrounded by whores, he was calling a meeting between his most trusted "made-men" (Avtoritets, Caporegimes) and his right-hand man Qasim Suleimanovij.

The situation in Lendija hit him very hard, he was fuming from what happened from that football game in Lendija... And even so, a lot of his business associates and political connections in Lendija were arrested in the following days. From Stanislav Zadaric to other men in the LDS, the main Lendijan opposition party.

"That little shitstain Petrovij wants to go against me?! ME?! Stepping on /MY/ toes?!" Usually Ignjat is a very cool and level-headed man, but when angered.... His true fury is unleashed.
With the purple light of the strip club shining across his Hugo Boss shirt and his black cropped hair.

"I'll have his GUTS, his SKIN, his LIFE! When I'm done with him, he'll be thrashing around and begging for mercy!
I am going to flip his entire shithole of a country upside down!" Ignjat shouted and slammed his fist on the coffee table in the little VIP room that him and his associates were sitting in.
All of his men were watching in pure terror as they saw another side that they never saw from his boss.

"Qasi. Tell me about the Lendijan army so far." Ignjat demanded as he stared at his right-hand man, the olive tanned beast of a man with two executioners on his arms.

"So far it could be beaten by a second-hand militia. They have practically dug their own grave by going against us." Qasim replied as his dull face stared back at his boss, with his brown and soul-less eyes showed complete obedience to his boss.
"Good. We are not rolling with second-hand militias...
You will go off to Lendija and you'll fund with my money anyone who is capable of slowly leading an uprising. I want Viktor Petrovij's head served to me on a silver platter." Ignjat declared with great anger as he wafted his hand, signaling his men to scamper off.... They already know what to do, especially Qasim.

The fires will ignite.

.
.
.

Zelenograd, Stojam, Prime Minister's palace. Day after the incident.

Adrian Miroslavovij was always an ambitious man, leading his party the National Union (Nacionalnaja Unia) to victory... Under the premises of classic Post-Communist nationalism and promises of populism, he was always regarded as a "man of the people"...
Ever since General Todor Vladimirovij lead the country on a tight military junta, he was always the one destined to win the country... As he was one of his relatives, they were related by blood in a way.

His so called "anti-corruption" campaigns earned him a lot of votes in the previous election, he managed to dominate as always, there was no question in that.
But he was all-talk and no action... In reality? He was a puppet of oligarchs and businessmen from the wide world and from the inside of Stojam, either he turned a blind eye to the doings of Ignjat Bogdanovij and the Chernogorsk Clan, making them practically untouchable, or he let businessmen from the faraway lands of Nifon to do their business inside Stojam... Not that it was a bad thing, but every blessing has a curse, especially when the businessmen don't really use local labor, instead bringing their own workers.

But the situation of Lendija might just be the nail in the coffin for Stojam's domination of Lendija, Adrian was always afraid that the small country would break away... Why was it so important? Because of lucrative natural gas resources that it has, obviously Stojam had a slice of the pie... Up until now, when many Stojamian-Lendijan businessmen and opposition figures in Lendija were arrested.

He puckered up his suit and tie and went on to the Narodnaja Sobranija building to address the situation publicly.

.
.
.

Sound of news announcing. The camera zooms on the anchor.

Presenter: Good afternoon, this is NNM News, and today we are up for some breaking news. The situation became dire in Protsna as a football riot happened in the Tomasevic Arena in the city of Zadarje, as fans of Black Star Zelenograd and FK Orao clashed violently. So far there are 30 people hospitalized and another person presumed dead. We are now going to get a field report from our reported in Protsna. Moving to you, Lyudmila.



Presnter: So Lyudmila, tell us what happened.

Reporter: This place looks like the aftermath of an earthquake <camera zooms on ambulances, destroyed chairs and fences.> Seems like a group of Stojamian fans were provoked by FK Orao fans, it was believed that a UAV with certain Anti-Stojamian posters attached to it was flying above the Black Star Zelenograd side...

The Stojamian fans reacted by flooding the Lendijan side and initiating a brawl. The Protsnian Police failed at providing basic security measures like body checks as multiple hooligans possessed items like switch-blades, it is even rumored that a machete was used in the fight.

Presenter: Are there any suspicions of it being an organized incident?

Reporter: Despite claims from Lendijan sources, it didn't seem like any Stojamian nationalist or hooligan organizations were present in the event. According to our research, a lot of hooligans from Stojam were prevented travel to Protsna from previous matches. But it seems that Lendijan hooligan groups were very much present.

Presenter: Thank you, Lyudmila. We are now moving to the Narodnaja Sobraniye in Stojam where Prime Minister Adrian Miroslavovij will be addressing the situation:



Adrian Miroslavovij: "Fellow people of Stojam and Lendija alike;

Yesterday, a horrible event in the history of Kryvian football happened. The riot in the Tomasevic Arena hospitalized many people and claimed a life. The incident ruined the honest football game that was going on and many innocent fans and bystanders who were watching the event were caught in the crossfire too.
It was a tragic event that marks a beginning of wrong and blind hatred.

The two groups of the hotheaded hooligans were clashing over views that are naturally incorrect and immoral.
Both Lendija and Stojam do not have a history of hatred... I daresay they have a conjoined history of brotherhood and fellowship.
Ever since the days of Tsar Pyotr Velikiy and Lendijan Vladikas who fought the Isfahani invaders with tooth and nail, blood, sweat and tears.... Classic Lendijan literature was written in Stojamian, Lendijans were depicted in Stojamian literature as a brave people, standing tall for their motherland and defending their people.

We are of the same blood, those type of events should not happen.

May this event be scattered in the wind and may the lord almighty bless both Stojam and Lendija. Unity makes Strength."

.
.
.

Nova Varos, Lendija, Two days after the incident, 14:00 PM.
In the southern city of Nova Varos, near the city of Berane in Lendija.
It was a city with a sizable Stojamian population, people there were fervently idealistic and specifically voted majorly for the LDS during the many Lendijan election campaigns.
It was even the birthplace of some Pan-Slavic movements inside Lendija.

A protest was going on... With a wide range of idealists from different ideologies. All banded together against the recent arrests of Stojamian businessmen and LDS figures inside Lendija.
From actual supporters of the LDS to a small range of Pan-Slavic Far Right movements, even some Communist cells that had woken up ever since the collapse of the People's Republic of Stojam.

"We will not stand for this! For how long can we suffer at the hands of oligarchs who just want to take and take and take?!" The man giving the speech on the stage was none other than Vuk "Remington" Lukovij. He was a decorated "hero", who had his special forces unit disbanded due to alleged war crimes at the battle of Tsvetlanka.

"First, Petrovij is arresting the people that can challenge him... Second, he is arresting businessmen, serious people who have a hand in crafting our glorious economy.
Over what? Corruption? Treason?
If anything, they are the traitorous ones! Going against our brothers back in Stojam!

The old Vladikas who fought the Isfahani imperialists are turning in their graves! I call for Petrovij to STOP those evil acts IMMEDIATELY, and so do the people of Nova Varos and the rest of our supporters!" The Remington always had a knack for influencing those around him. A gifted commander, a man of the people.
That's why the nearby policemen were always watching him, making sure the protest doesn't go violent....

.
.
.
But all it needed was a spark to set the world afire.

A few governmental institutions such as municipal buildings and police stations were located in Pusta, despite being a small town. It was still close to a bigger city and had it's own importance.

Vuk "Remington" Lukovij had plans of his own....

"For how long.... For how long can we wait and suffer?!" Lukovij's voice echoed and triumphed through the center of the town as he stood next to a statue of Vladika Zoran, the founder of the Zoranovij Dynasty of Lendija... A man who fought the Isfahani Ayatollahs in tooth and nail.

"I say we take back this land for our own! Restore the word of justice before it's too late!" Remington put his fist up in the air as the crowd roared in acceptance of his words, they chanted the words "We want justice!" back...

And as soon as that happened? The police showed up... A van with roaring sirens passed nearby as the megaphone declared out loud... "Your permission to protest has been revoked. Please disperse and go home."

"Seems like they can't handle the truth anymore.... We'll show them. Gather everyone here who's willing, arrange them some Molotovs... And ajde, we are going to show these lapdogs what the wrath of the people is like." Lukovij whispered to his right-hand man at the protest.
Only a few clicks away, the main municiapility building was nearby. It was easy to reach, just a 2 minute walk from the town square.

Secretly while it seemed that the protest was dying down and dispersing, molotov cocktails were made... People started to arm themselves with whatever they could. Bats, steel poles, pepper spray, knives, bricks.... Whatever could be thrown and used as a weapon.
And as soon as that happened? Another large crowd was gathering in front of the municipal town-hall.

"Let us in! We want justice!" The crowd screamed as flags of Lendija and Stojam were waved in the background.
Another detachment of black-geared riot policemen with wide shields were standing in front of them. Behind inside the building? A few local policemen were standing guard to protect the mayor.

Safe to say the riot policemen were under-equipped, as if abandoned by the central bureau in Cetynia.

The protestors were laying hellfire on the officers... From bricks, stones to furniture parts and other heavy objects... They had a hard time to be protected with the ill-equipped limited number of shields they had.
Lukovij smiled as he stood in the back of the protest, every now and then shouting slogans through a megaphone to incite the crowd even further. He had the best possible escape route if this riot is crushed... Which is unlikely.

The more and more time passed, the longer it took for backup to arrive... The rioters were already knee-deep in the town hall, stealing off equipment from riot policemen who broke away from the formation, who were later captured and beaten by the rioters and stripped of their riot gear and equipment.
Soon clouds of tear gas and pepper spray were all around as the remaining garrison of riot policemen were routed and beaten, backed into a corner with nowhere to go, only going up the stairs and having to withstand wild and angry rioters throwing stuff at them or trying to beat them.

And then... The rioters reached the main office where the mayor was hiding behind armed policemen, but they just didn't have the guts to shoot the crowd.
Standing helplessly as the rioters were pouring from all directions and shouting at the mayor, demanding change and justice.
As for the riot geared officers? Some of them joined the regular policemen in hopes of protecting the mayor or broke the formation and tried to run away, with some managing to escape the building unharmed and the unlucky ones being spotted and beaten on sight by angry rioters.

"Let Petrovij's lapdogs know that he can't escape his destiny! We will rise and take the word of justice back if he won't give it to us! We the people deserve our god-given rights!" Vuk "Remington" Lukovij was truly a charismatic man.

This riot was soon uploaded to social media and covered by on the news in both Stojam and Lendija...
Soon? More protests and more riots like these sparked all across Lendija, complete collapse of law and order....


Let the flames of reckoning begin.

[New Aeyariss]

*** CETYNIA

---

The dawn slowly broke over the city of Cetynia. The Lynx of Tsvetlanka, scourge of terrorists and unsung hero destroyed by a corrupt system outside his power, slowly exited the doors of his HQ and lighted a cigar. Setting sun shone directly into his face, covering the valley in front of him in a white glow. Behind it rose the massive mountains that towered over Cetynia, thick forests covering their slopes, and rocky tops rising above them.

Slowly, first fues of smoke as emerged from the general's mouth. He was now officially pardoned, cleared from crimes he did not commit. Yet deep inside him, restlessness rose with every second. Officer known as Stakno Yavoric was brought up in a home where he was taught absolute loyalty towards his state and nation - only to break it several years later in defence of people who invaded this region, enslaved it's population and forced it to convert to a foreign religion, killing those who refused. Even now, the face that once burned with fire was left only with a dim ember.

"Nice morning isn't it, sir?" Stano heard a voice from behind himself, only to notice another officer - a soldier in his forties, with a pair of small deeply set eyes short, wavy brown hair, square face and a wide jaw walk towards him. Indeed, Zhelyazko Dakovic was an enigma even to him. A man who rarely spoke and spent most of his time in prayers of a Christian denomination not native to the area, speaking only when the time was ripe. However, he was also the only candidate with service record impressive enough to warrant considering him for the cheif of staff - and Stanko seriously doubted that for all his wreidness, he would get along well with Petrovij.

"Indeed it is.." sighed the Lynx of Tsvetlanka while he looked at the mountains in front of him "A pity we will have to leave it all behind soon."

"A pity indeed..." came a short response "But a duty is a duty. No matter if we like those who give the orders we have to carry them out.."

And then posture of General Yavoric suddenly flipped. Eyes previously calm filled with hatred and anger so burning it could have manifested as fire. In second, Stanko snapped..

"Fulfil orders..." he hissed "Fulfil orders my a**. It will again just end in pointless bloodshed..."

"Sir, what is wrong?" Zhelyazko recoiled at the sudden outburst of hostility.

However despite having his emotions, Stanko was a trained solider, so he quickly regained his composture.

"My apologies" he said "It is just bad memories."

"I understand all too well, sir." Dakovic looked into his eyes, before pointing at the small cross hanging on his neck "After all my own bad memories are the reason why I now belong to him."

"Again with the religion?" Yavoric turned his head around "Why are you so insistent about it?"

"Because I was a failure once" sighed Dakovic "And I realized that no manner of my own strength will ever make me up for it. Now sir, if you will allow me, I will leave."

And he turned around, leaving a pondering Yavoric behind.

*** COUPLE YEARS EARLIER; TSVETLANKA

---

"Please, no don't kill me!" shouted a Muslim man, but in vain. A couple shots from a shotgun ripped through his chest, filling it holes. Blood poured out as the man collapsed to the ground, shaking in the throes that were soon about to send him to the afterlife.

"Daddy!" shouted a sobbing boy near him, running to hug his father's corpse only to meet a similar fate.

"NOOOO!!!!" cried a woman, but in vain. Strong arms grabbed her, and covered her mouth. A massive man in lendijan army uniform slowly started to drag her towards ruins of nearby house.

Vuk Lukovic looked around himself, smiling. Around him burned the city of Tsvetlanka, with massive tongues of fire rising as trees. Next to him his soldiers raveged a street in a drunken orgy of vilence as one of them played a tambura, moaning some folk song about shepherds as flames consumed a house to his left. Stench of vodka could be smelled from across the street and while normally Lukovic would not have allowed such a breakdown of discipline, today was a special day. The government ordered the regulars to withdraw soon after the terrorists have left and his men came for a "cleanup" operation - officially to secure the town, unofficially to kill every man and secure the women, which were to be sold to brothels in EU as a way of cheap covering of the operation's costs.

"VUKKKKK!!!!!" one of his officers came, barely able to stand from the amount of vodka, AK lazily swinging from his chest "Will you drink with us sir!?"

"I can't..." Lukovic rebuffed him, laughing "Someone has to be sober to keep those..." he pointed at the corpses of a family he murdered "golshans at bay. I can't be drunk... yet!"

"Oh I see..." the soldier looked at the killed boy, a glimpse of sadness filling his eyes "you don't at least pity him?"

Lukovic paused, flinging upwards his signature weapon, a Remington Model 760 before starting to load it.

"Not in the slightest" he spoke, to the bewilderment of his soldier "was this a normal child, I wouldn't have killed him. But this is a golshan*. You know what they are, don't you?" Lukovic sighed "Such Golshans killed my ancestors. There is nothing good about golshan presence in our lands. Golshans know this. Our values at the fundamental level can not coexist. Our religions differ. Hence, we can not understand each other, and we never will. That is why I choose to take a pre-emptive action. Please, won't you tell me that this golshan wouldn't grow up into an another terrorist to blow himself up like the last one in St. Michael's Tserkiev in Cetynia? I will just get rid of golshans before they can mature.. and the deed will be done."

Even in the drunken state, his officer couldn't help but be surprised by Lukovic's words. It was everything around them - the determination, the idealism - that made this man into some kind of a charismatic magnet that naturally generated respect. It seemed that for the good of Stojam "Remmington" was willing to do anything.

His deliberations were broken by a sudden sound of radio chattering:

"Plamen zero two to plamen aktualny, please respond." came a drunken, but visibly surprised voice of a soldier "1st Mechanized has turned away and is returning to us, over!"

"What?" came a surprised answer from Vuk. This wasn't in the schedule. Petrovij assured him that no one will interfere with his operation directly via the General Staff... so why were units that were meant to be away coming back?

"Plamen zero two, give me a sitrep, over!" she shouted, but no answer came "Plamen zero two, respond, over!"

But only silence responded, filling "Remmington" with unease. He did not had a time to respond though. Soon, a collumn of tanks emerged from nearby street. They halted before the group of soldiers where Lukovic was in, and Vuk saluted a major in command of the company.

"Major Simenoic, what is the meaning of this?" said Lukovic "The General Staff commanded 1st Mechanized to withdraw. Are you so greedy you take your part in the spoils?" he turned around "Here, the old town is yours to loot!"

"I am araid that this is not our goal" and suddenly, Lukovic hard a dozen of clicks as tank's HMG was loaded and pointed directly at his men "I am afraid that I need to ask you and your men to surrender their arms and give themselves into our custody."

Panic filled Lukovic's mind. Trusting reassurance of his prime minister, he let the discipline of his forces collapse. His men were scattered all over the area, killing, burning, looting and raping like mere thugs and even with their superior training there was no way that he could reorganize them fast enough to respond. Anger filled his heart. How dare this upstart step in to protect the golshans!?

Still, he had no choice. He rose his arms, and surrendered to the soldiers of 1st Mechanized.

"Yavoric... One day I will get you for this!" he hissed as handcuffs sized his arms.

*** LENDIJAN ARMY GENERAL STAFF: PRESENT

---

The room was filled with endless chattering as fingers hit computer keyboards in quick succession. Dim light filled the bunker below the general staff as Stanko entered it. He threw a quick glance over his assembled officers, who sat across a long, wooden table.

"As we may all know" he begun after taking a breath "Earlier today, the nationalistic Stojamain elements backed by organized crime have launched a series of protests against our rightful government. They intend to use the situation to depose it and install a pro-Stojamese party in power. Additionally, there are confirmed intelligence reports that organized crime and Stojamian intelligence backs up those protests."

A chill passed through the faces of assembled officers. They knew well what was going on. An eventual confrontation like this was likely to evolve into a hybrid war against their larger neighbour, who had several times the potential of a tiny Lendija. But it had to be done - no matter if the motivation was patriotic zeal, or preservation of a corrupt regime who paid them.

"The enemy consists of a series of mobs backed by football hooligans and criminal elements. " Yavoric displayed a map on the wall "It is estimated that they are several thousands in size in each city. The largest rioting is in the Nova Varos. Hence, Nova Varos will be the our primary objective. The assault on Nova Varos will be spearheaded by four battalion tactical groups, each equipped for public order purposes. General Apostolij will be in charge of clearing Nova Varos."

Stanko flipped a slide. To be honest, he did not trust the officer whom he was giving orders, as Col. Ventislavic was corrupt to the core, the only reason for his ascendancy was paying his bribes on time. But there was no way he could have removed him as of yet, and besides that he had no one for that task:

"Col. Ventislavic, your orders are to detach two infantry companies and have them move to secure Smrodovo ASAP. The city is to be held at all cost. Colonel Hristoforij, the military police battalion is to remain at the capital and guard it alongside with two companies worth of reservists. Any questions?"

"Yes, sir!" came a question from part of the table where two men sat. One was short, chubby with massive lips which looked like locked in an eternal smile, with small eyes and bald head; another was tall, massive, with enormous muscles decorating his body, short, cleanly cut head and a round face hid under a red beret. Those were Col. Ivan Hristoforij and Col. Vasil Yasenic - two dogs of Petrovij, commanding the 18th military police battalion and 2nd Special Operations Regiment. Yasenic was a greedy, yet talented officer delighting in bloodshed; while Hiristoforij got his post merely due to the connections; and the latter found it a good time to remind everyone about his importance despite masking it under the military discipline "I am understanding that the concept of operations resolves around focusing on Nova Varos. How am I then to react to eventual enemy movements in the west?"

Stanko smiled:

"That is because we are not only focusing on the Nova Varos" he pointed at the map again "Col. Yasenic, I have a task of uttermost importance to you. As we look at the map, we realize that the pobably plan of the enemy is to focus on undermining the legitimate government administration in coastal areas. As those areas are vital to our country's economy, we can't just abandon them. What we can do... is to deny them a freedom of action."

Once again, Yavoric loved being in the heat of planing:

"You will personally assume command over a battalion tactical group formed by the 12th Airborne Battalion backed by a company of special forces. Then you will deploy to Gradina via air, and seize it via surprise attack. As Gradina is the main road and rail junction in the area, any help they will get from Stojam will have to through there. This will give us a base to encircle Kryk and Petnijica, which are other cities mostly affected by the unrest. Dismissed."

And each commander saluted, running to his troops. The time was nigh.

*** GRADINA, LATER

---

Two maintenance workers walked through a corridor at Gradina's regional airfield as the moon hid behind the cloud. Calmness ruled around as first rays of spring brought first waves of heat, melting the snow on the mountains.

"I heard a large transport is coming in today" spoke one to the other "wait..." he looked at the airfield "why are there four planes on the airfield? We were informed only of one."

Then, they noticed them. A group of people in shaggy tracksuits walking in their direction. They didn't look hostile.

"This is a restricted area! You are not authorized to..." started one of the workers but did not finish, as the men pulled SMGs from inside their tracksuits and aimed at them:

"LAY ON THE GROUND! FACE TO THE SOIL! HANDS WIDE! NOW!" shouted the men as the terrified workers obeyed without question. As they lied on the ground, one of them could glipse with his eye a swarm of uniformed soldiers pouring out of the planes. Inside said vehicles, Col. Yasenic smiled as his forces secured the airport. The city would be next.

Meanwhile a dozen kilometres away, 1st Infantry Brigade under Gen. Apostolij advanced towards Nova Varos. The officer in charge ignored orders from Yavoric and positioned three infantry battalions on the city's outskirts, with forth in reserve.

The pacification of Lendija has begun.


* Golshan - a slang term for Muslims in the area.

[Stojam]

Hotel “Diamond Plaza”, Novigrad, Stojam. Few hours before the Nova Varos incident.

Ignjat “The Doberman” Bogdanovic was enjoying his private gym session offered in the lucrative “Diamond Plaza”, Stojam’s best five star hotel.
It wasn’t the best in the world, but it made do for now.

He was doing sets upon sets of weight lifting to go along with his routine, practically shirtless as his muscular body was exposed to the gym’s lighting, exposed along with his numerous Stojamian prison tattoos.
Those that signified his life story in prison, that was the only thing that mattered in Stojam’s prison system, as tattoos tell your life story and your importance.
Without tattoos… You don’t exist as a thief in law.

The metal dumbbells shook as Ignjat was holding them both in his hands, lifting them one after the other. Time after time, and time after time.
He looked at his biceps in the mirror next to him, to view his technique. He adored himself too much.

He was a steroid abuser, a very regular one to be exact, that’s why he achieved his muscular physique. It came into effect in his home life as he is always aggressive to his wife… A wife that he regularly cheats on with Eulabian prostitutes.

His numerous tracksuited bodyguards stood watch around the area as he continued working out.

But then… A black suited olive tanned man with slickback hair entered the room, escorted by a few of Bogdanovic’s men.
“Boss. This guy wants to talk to you.” The tracksuited goon talked as Ignjat stopped lifting waits for a moment, eyeing the amount of men behind him through the mirror.

He knew who the suited man was and who he served. He turned on his heels as he faced all the men in the room.
He had tattoos of two eight pointed stars on his shoulders, a tattoo that signals authority.
On his chest he also had a wide variety of tattoos. From depictions of Orthodox Church style buildings to depictions of Saint Madonna and her child, indicating a criminal lifestyle from a young age, the tattoos symbolised those of a thief.
Truly only tattoos can tell a man’s story like that.

He took a nearby water bottle and opened it, taking a hearty chug out of it. After regaining his breath he started to talk while the suited man waited, staring coldly onto Ignjat.

“I would offer you a more appropriate seat but seeing as we are in a gym… I am afraid we have to talk while standing.” Ignjat said as he looked around him, he was not going to get seats brought to the gym just for the suited man… For a personal reason.

“No need, Mr.Bogdanovic. I am simply here to bring you a message from Mr.Russell.” The man spoke as his brown eyes gazed into Ignjat’s lifeless grey eyes.

“Very well.” Ignjat said as he returned the same gaze back to the man, he snapped his fingers at once and all the tracksuited bodyguards started leaving the gym room.
After a few moments, they were left all alone.
.
.
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“Mr.Russell is very unsatisfied with the situation in Lendija. Disappointed as well. He wants an immediate response and containment of the problem, as well as a possible meeting in the future.” The messenger said bluntly, keeping an expressionless face and his hands where Ignjat can see them.

“I am not satisfied with the situation either…” Ignjat said as he wiped some sweat off his forehead. His cheeks were slightly red from the workout.
“I didn’t expect the mountain idiots to get uppity… And frankly, I am sure they were not able to do this on their own.” Ignjat spoke as he scratched his chin a little.

“Where are you getting at, Mr.Bogdanovic?” The suited man raised an eyebrow as he asked that question.
“Viktor Petrovij didn’t do this on his own, he couldn’t have… At least not without someone backing him up. There is someone seeking to undermine my authority in Lendija… Scratch that, Mr.Russell's authority in Lendija.

None of us expected this to happen. I suppose there is another major player seeking to bring us down. Maybe it’s Kojiro’s people, maybe it’s the Bolriegians, maybe it’s somebody else… Who knows!” Bogdanovic raised a finger as he wiped his hands and face with a towel.

The man looked back at Bogdanovic with a confused look.
“It’s nice that you have this theory but Mr.Russell expects a solution to the problem.”

Ignjat then turned around, giving the man a mean frown as he walked closer to him. He was taller, much bigger and more capable than the messenger at this moment. But he knew better than to defy the likes of Amihan Russell.

“Look. You tell Mr.Russell that if he gives me what I need, which is funding… I will get someone to lead an uprising inside Lendija and I will serve him personally the severed head of Petrovij and whoever is backing him on a silver platter. If needed, I might get Stojamian regulars to set foot inside Lendijan soil.
The Lendijan army is weak and I will use that to my advantage.
Alright?” Ignjat slightly put his arm next to the messenger’s neck, presenting a devilish grin on his face.

“Understood.” The messenger stated calmly as he fixed his suit. Walking a few steps back away from Bogdanovic and then walking out of the gym.

Ignjat then returned to his workout session….

Let the flames of reckoning swallow the world.
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City Council building, Nova Varos, Lendija.

And the air was filled with smoke and blood…

The hungry ravens already scoured the scorched earth, looking for leftovers.
But the hungry humans were still out for blood……………….

To understand a man like Vuk “The Remington” Lukovic, is to first understand what fire still burns inside of him.
The anger that was never snuffed out since his days in Tsvetlanka. His anger towards the golshans that he hated so much, his anger towards the government that betrayed him.

Ever since Tsvetlanka? He viewed the Lendijan government as nothing more than a bureaucratic, hypocritical and corrupt cesspool.
He was betrayed by his own top brass that threw him into a jail cell for war crimes they allowed and disbanded his unit.
His own prestigious unit, that he had the honor to lead and kill golshans with.

But now… He’s back.
He still has a good amount of friends left in the country… Old friends from the unit who felt betrayed too ever since their commander got arrested, along with them.
They never stopped gearing up after those days, whenever it’d be keeping military equipment despite not serving or using the nature of Lendija’s black market….

Now it’s time to use their Special Forces training, even long after their unit was disbanded.

‘Remington’ Lukovic stood in the conference room of the Nova Varos “City Council” building. Behind him a mob of angry rioters, looking to break the heads of the officials and staff that failed them.

However, Lukovic was surrounded by his own band of ex-army militants. Dressed in woodland camo pattern uniform, kevlar vests and balaclavas and boonie caps. They were preventing the angry mob from reaching the officials, among them the mayor who cowered in front of Lukovic, staring at him head on.

But Lukovic knew… It was a matter of time before Petrovic’s lap dogs would come knocking down the door.

So he decided to do something about it.
His personal bodyguard and former Lieutenant stood beside him, with a Dragunov SVD over her shoulder. A bulky brunette woman wearing a woodland camo pattern uniform and a black beret over her head. She had a nasty scar across her eye.

“Tambura” was her name, or nickname to be exact. She used to be a strong and passionate woman who served in Lukovic’s unit, she was just as better as any other of his men… Hell… She was better than most marksmen in Lendija.

She was the best markswoman in all of Lendija, the best of the best…. Not until she stopped serving after what happened in Tsvetlanka.
But she continued standing beside Lukovic, no matter what. His cause and his revenge was the only thing that kept her going forward, having lost her faith in all of Lendija after what happened a while back.

.
.
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.
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“I am the only thing keeping you worthless maggots alive. You could be getting torn apart by the people behind me. So you better listen to what I have to say.”
Lukovic spoke behind closed doors as the roars of the mob continued chanting for the death of the officials, with ‘Tambura’ standing right next to him.

The Lendijan government officials, including the mayor, cowered in front of him. Shaking, scared for their lives. They were regular people with families, with things to lose… They did not want to fall in the crossfire.

A few militants were in the room, aiming their guns at the ‘City Council’ members. Including the legendary ‘Tambura’.

Lukovic then shifted his cold stare at the Mayor of Nova Varos, who had stared back at Lukovic with a look of terror.
The ‘Remington’ waltzed over to the Mayor, grabbing him by the neck.
“Think of this as a message to that criminal Petrovic. His punishment is long overdue, and his time is long over. It’s time to fix this country the right way.” Lukovic said as he gave the terrified Mayor one last stare before pushing him over to the window of the conference room.

The ‘City Council’ building was rather tall, if one was to fall from that room head-first? It’s a guaranteed death.

Lukovic did exactly that as he threw the poor sod head-first out of the window, watching as he plummeted to the ground, dying instantly with his head breaking afterwards.

Lukovic had a sinister smile on his face, knowing that one step to revenge has been taken.
But suddenly, ‘Tambura’ stepped up to him, whispering something in his ear.

“A good bunch from the police laid down arms, they say that they believe in our cause and want to join us. They say they are tired from seeing their own brothers oppressed by Petrovic’s tyranny.

I did a head-count along with our guys. Including them? We have 130 armed people.” She said as she stared at the Mayor’s corpse as well.

“If they want to defect to us, then who am I to say no? But there’s only one condition…
Go to them now with a few of our boys, tell them that if they want to fight alongside us? They need to give us access to the Nova Varos police station’s armory. The Lendijan army is going to be here at any second, it’s better to prepare first.

These cops better be ready to get their hands dirty when the lapdogs come by.
We need to start getting entrenched in this building.” Lukovic muttered out commands as ‘Tambura’ nodded and ran along.

“You, you, you and you. Guard those maggots and make sure they don’t run out of the room. We need them alive, tie them if you can.” Lukovic spoke to four armed militants inside the room, all former soldiers in his unit.
He barked commands as the terrified officials in the conference room didn’t do anything but obey.
Lukovic then stepped out of the room, seeing the writhing mass of rioters standing in front of a bunch of masked militants.

He then stood next to a podium and started speaking, being recorded by various phones from the masses in front of him.

“Hear me brothers. Today marks the day of a new revolution.
For as long as we knew it? Viktor Petrovij and his band of prostitutes held Lendija for far too long. Time after time, they have failed us, the common folk.
Under false premises of a seperate ‘national identity’, they sold us out to the westerners and betrayed our entire way of life.

The way of life that existed with the Vladikas.
They have gone against our brothers in Stojam, they continued pushing their lies and agenda onto us so they can steal more from us and they arrested our own brothers just for speaking out against them.

That ends today.

And now… We have all seized Nova Varos.I declare Nova Varos being “free” of Petrovij’s tyranny.
And I, Vuk Lukovic, as elected rightfully by the people of Nova Varos, I declare myself as the new People’s Vojvoda of Nova Varos. I promise to start here, and then to liberate the entirety of all Lendija from Petrovij’s reign of terror….

But our fight does not stop here. Because YOU, the people, are what will decide the outcome of the conflict.
Soon, Petrovij’s lapdogs will invade this city and their only goal is to butcher the lot of us.

To arms, brothers. Arm yourselves with anything you can, barricade the roads, make traps, do everything to slow down the advance of the corrupt lapdogs. Our fight is not yet over.

We urge protestors in different cities to do the same.”

Lukovij’s speech was passionate, the look on his eyes was of pure fire.
And it inspired the rioters, bound in ideology of Stojamian identity... And that’s what matters really, complete obedience to Lukovic’s orders.

Along with a contingent Lukovij’s militants, the rioters began flooding the streets after the speech made by the infamous “Remington”, now the “People’s Vojvoda of Nova Varos.” A quite fancy title indeed.

Major junctions and roads were blocked as non-rioting citizens either collaborated or were too scared to defy the militants, anything from fridges to bricks were placed on the roads to slow down any advance…

Lukovic’s forces were already planning the entire riot ever since it started as a peaceful protest.
Nova Varos was a stronghold for local mafia groups, due to it being a port city… It had ties to Ignjat Bogdanovic’s organization back in Stojam. ‘Remington’ Lukovic already made contact with Branimir “Akula” Popovic, the leader of a certain crew of local criminals and misfits in Nova Varos.

They were the ones supplying with guns and explosives, even they helped with the cause by supplying the militants with EFPs and makeshift IEDs.

Those were placed alongside other makeshift booby traps in roads and the main roads and junctions leading to the center of Nova Varos… The preparations were intense, and with defection of a good number of police forces to the side of ‘Remington’, it could change the whole outcome of the situation.

A hostile and scared populace and an iron fist reign of rioters and militants, who were encouraged to intimidate and harm those who speak against them.
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In the meantime, inside the “City Council” building, ‘Remington’ Lukovic was inside, his signature Remington Model 760 slinging over his shoulder, along with his Dragunov SVD wielding bodyguard, codenamed ‘Tambura’, walking alongside him.

He was busy checking on his forces inside the “City Council” building and barking commands.

“Okay, barricade some of the smaller windows and leave only the backdoors for a possible escape route in case anything happens. Stock up on the RPGs that Akula supplied us with and be ready to fire in case anything happens.

All the snipers need to be on the roof and on the nearby blocks in case a helicopter approaches, keep them away with small arms fire as we really don’t have any MANPADS right now.” Lukovic knew what he was saying, and his soldiers simply obeyed without saying a single word.

In the conference room where the rest of the ‘Nova Varos City Council’ was trapped in, tied and lined up against the wall, with all the windows barricaded.
A few militants who were guarding the place took pictures of these officials…

Those pictures were later sent through WhatsApp and other social media apps to the hands of various Lendijan military personnel, they wanted to send this message and they had the right phone numbers.
The message were as followed:

“The moment you step into Nova Varos is the moment that the City Council of Nova Varos meets their maker. You have been warned…

Choose wisely.”

Instill fear and keep hostages, that’s the ace Lukovic had in his sleeve, and he was not unwilling to use it.

.
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And the flames swallowed up everything.

- Capturing and entrenching inside Nova Varos City Council building and neighboring blocks.
- Encouraging rioting masses to trap the city and slow down Lendijan advance if necessary, intimidate any local populace against the takeover.
- Gaining access to Nova Varos' police armory from defecting officers.
- Keep the remaining City Council hostage in the City Council building.
- Filling main roads and junctions in Nova Varos with makeshift EFPs and IEDs.

Amount of armed militants under Vuk "Remington" Lukovic: 130.
Plus a couple thousands of civilian rioters armed with melee weapons, sometimes a few pistols or stolen police gear.

Map of Nova Varos:

[New Aeyariss]

*** Cetynia

" I take that all is ready for the assault on Nova Varos, for I am getting impatient." cold voice of Petrovij echoed in the room. The Lendijan Prime Minister was a creature of greed and lust; for him to have something go against his will was a biggest crime, for which usually paid his underlings.

"With all respect sir, this is precisely why I am coming in here. I have already a task force under general Apostolij for the assault. However I would wish to inform you that a certain complications arose, of which I would need to inform your excellency. "

In truth, Stanko fumed with anger at the very sound of Petrovij's name. The man awakened the worst possible instincts in the general, strong enough to wish for a bullet to be put into the prime minister's head.

"And what are those... complications I may ask?" Viktor was visibly unhappy.

"It has been confirmed by our UAVs that about a company strong armed criminal element has taken positions within the city. Led by your excellency's old friend. I am talking of course about Lukovic " Yavoric sighed. While being a Lendijan patriot he never wished death to other peoples living in his country. Lukovic was... different. For him, the Muslims weren't even human "Lukovic has taken hostages and threatens to kill them should his demands be refused. As Gen. Hristoforij is currently busy securing Gradina, his cheif off staff, Col. Zenovic is working on formulation of a plan to free them."

"And?" The prime minister was getting impatient.

"The plan is risky." continued the new commander in chief "We know only as much about the OPFOR as much as Aerial reconnaissance has confirmed us. Roughly a company sized element well armed in small arms, but with sufficient training. Getting to the hostages while pinning down other forced will be... difficult. "

"That so?" Petrovic sighed "Abandon the hostages then."

"What?" asked in anger and surprise Yavoric. He knew this man was wicked, but not as much "They are Lendijan men! Our reputation will suffer if we are unable to..."

"I AM THROUGH WITH YOUR IDEALISTIC DRIVEL!" shouted the President "SAVE THIS, SAVE THAT! YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE THE MOST SKILLED GENERAL OF OUR ARMY, AND YOU CAN'T SEE SOMETHING SO SIMPLE! GET OUT AND GIVE ME SOME RESULTS! I WANT NOVA VAROS CLEANED FROM CRIMINALS WITHIN A WEEK!"

"Yes, sir." signed sad general. Once again he was forced to face the grim reality of working with corrupt Lendijan government, but now for the sake of his people, he had to curl his tail and accept it. Otherwise, there was little chance his country would survive.

"I will give them green light in an instant."

---

*** Nova Varos

Modern warfare is a highly confusing affair. Done are the days when soldiers wore uniforms and fronts were clear. Nowadays, enemies could be anywhere and everywhere. A nightmare - especially for soldiers without any real experience. Such was Brigadier General Ivan Apostolij. Before his career really advanced, he was a humble commander of... the representative company of Lendijan Army. All it took to become a general was meeting Pertovij's niece on a party and hefty bribe paid to the president. Yet, despite his rank, Apostolij never commanded men in combat. Every wargame he took part in was scripted to guarantee victory, and his entire staff was made of officers with personal connections to him. Most bought their posts. Since most competent officers had ties to Yavoric, they were throughout purged, leaving most units led by corrupt carreer officers.

At that time, no one expected war. With whom was it to be? Relationships with Stojam and Krasny Mirsk - the only two neighbours - were high. The local Muslim militias were handled sufficiently by the police ever since pacification of Tsvetlanka. Thus, high level of military preparation wasn't a key point. Petrovij didn't care either; too indulged in his delusions of Redshield help and his own grandeur.

Thus General Apostolij sat over a simple wooden table set in the middle of his headquarters. Dim lamp shone over him, as other officers gathered around their commander. In their faces one could see fear. Like their commander, few of them had any actual experience.

"Gospodnovi, the situation is clear to us all." started Apostolij "Overflight of UAVs confirmed a company sized mob of armed criminals among the rioters. Due to presence of the civilian population in the city, my concept of operations will as of now exclude use of artillery. Our two infantry battalions will begin the advance from the North and North - East, while our Mechanized battalion with BMP-1s will bypass the city and attack it from the south. After cleaning up the St. Lazarus district, we will bring in the final battalion and close in the encirclement. Then we will mop them all out. Any questions. "

"Just one, Gospodinye Generalye" came response from Col. Pavel Zlatenic, cheif of manoeuvre operations in the staff "As gospod General knows, our enemies are former members of our SOF. Vuk Lukovic is not some no name commander. Therefore an advance of two infantry battalions without any support is asking to get them slaughtered, gospdinye generalye!"

And at this Apostolij broke mentally. Zlatenic was one of few officers to have any competence, but wasn't rich enough to afford a bribe sufficient enough to get him promoted. Both men were close friends, but in such moments Apostolij severely resented and envied his friend. The current infantry brigade commander was a person with an obsession of his image; something exposing his incompetence was to him worse than death. Thus, driven by emotions and wish to excell, he lost all rationality.

"Is that so?" he turned to cheif of strike operations "Order a single artillery company to surpress a single enemy platoon each. Keep the third one in reserve and use it when the odds are too high. The two infantry battalions have priority of fires."

"But sir, if the media will eat us for collateral damage..." started Zlatenic, before being interrupted.

"One more word and you will be court-martialed." hissed General Apostolij full of fury.

Zlatenic pondered in surprise the face of his superior. Normally cheerful, Apostolic's face was now full of venom, anger and fear. It seems that this man lost any sanity. But he had no choice - orders were orders.

"Issue the warning order to units." Apostolij continued hissing "After the surpression is done, proceed as planned. I won't loose today to a bunch of dirty criminals, do you get me!"

"Yes, sir!" and everyone went to his duties.

---

Siege of Nova Varos, Day 1.

*** Nova Varos

That night, the artillery crews were in full party mode. Rakiya flew like the Niagara waterfall, with litres being poured into the throats of poorly motivated conscripts. The officers at the battalion HQ partied even harder, taking for themselves all the best booze and promptly booking every prostitute available in the area. Loud, rhythmic pop music played out of the battalion HQ, as the military discipline collapsed altogether.

"Vladku pour us more!" shouted a group of soldiers sitting around HMMV with opened trunk, which served as makeshift table where alcohol was stored "Tomorrow we may die, so today we drink!"

Lt. Vladimir Strashilovic sighed. He was utterly furious at the officers for taking all the good Rakija that they bought from local "grey market", but he couldn't do anything.

"We? Die? Please!" he laughed, as he poured more rakiya "The infantry guys will baton them out and no one will die."

"That is great!" shouted one of other soldiers "They get to tire out and we get to drink! Zdrovye!"

Suddenly, the music at the Battalion HQ died down, before the radio started chattering:

"Zhmey five actual this is Zhmey One actual, respond, over!"

Vladimir ruched with all his strength to the radio, fearing the worst.

"Zhmey one actual, responded, over."

"Zhmey five actual, fire mission inbound, grid, Echo one, over!"

And then the hell broke loose. Soldiers scrambled in deep surprise, some barely walking from the amount of ingested alcohol, tripping over their legs. In confusion, someone tripped a massive bottle of rakiya, letting it fall to the ground. Then Vladimir heard loud buzzing over his head, knowing that it belonged to UAVs of the fire control platoon, which will be used to adjust their fire.

"Zhmey five actual, fire for effect, over!" the radio kept chattering.

Using artillery is a complex task, which requires severe knowledge of physics and mathematics. Earth's gravity field tends influence the rounds sufficiently to ensure that they don't fall where they are supposed to. Problem was, the Lendijan artillerymen were too drunk to calculate properly. Nor did they state allowed them to fully comprehend what they were doing. When they - barely and with swinging steps - walked away from their BM-21 Grads - their calculations were messed up. Not like they were able to comprehend it now, though.

"Fire!" shouted Vladmir and Stalin's organs started to play. The sky was ruptured by a hailstorm of rockets, which darted towards the city's residential district. The fact that it hadn't been evacuated hadn't dawned on drunk minds of the soldiers yet.

"Did we hit it... hicc?" asked one of more sober sergeants.

"I don't know. It went to... somewhere. Hicc!"

---

*** Nova Varos, later

That nigh artillery strikes destroyed every bridge nearby to prevent the insurgents from using them to evacuate.

For four hours the artillery ruthlessly bombed the city full of civilians, all for some sick ambition of brigade commander. Then, around five AM, with the firms rays of the morning sun, the assaullt had started. Artillery, which until now was used to shell supposed positions of the insurgents, now was used to lie smoke cover for two infantry battalions coming from the North. As their sole method of transport were simple pickup trucks, the smoke cover was required.

First to arrive were the recon elements, which after checking the blocks for hostile positions, called in the major force.

The two battalions came from the north and halted 500 meters from the blocks, where they dismounted the infantry, which now proceeded on foot. Battalion levels mortars were already dug in, prepared for providing suppression of insurgent heavy weapons. So were company level automatic grenade launchers and ATGMs, today to be used against fortifications.

All those were however merely feints, covering for the mechanized battalion tasked with enveloping the city and clearing St. Lazarus district. It's BMPs fell into the waves like massive walruses, and proceeded to swim around. First, the reconnaissance section would check the beach for any unpleasant surprises, then the rest of the force would land and dismount. While lacking the fire support of the rest of the force, the soldiers could still count on their BMP's firepower.

Fourth battalion stood away from the city in reserve, awaiting further instructions. Hopefully if the other three will do their tasks, the encirclement will be complete.

[Stojam]

Post theme...

Siege of Nova Varos, Day 1.

** Nova Varos, Lendija.

War is not an easy feat, especially for those who are not used to it.
The people of Nova Varos have not seen such carnage ever since the pacification of Tsvetlanka and the Partia Allahkhova insurgency... It was an unimaginable thought that Lendija will once again will be plagued by such violent instability, especially in their peaceful little city.
They never imagined once in their heads that their own government, as some loathed it and some loved it, would ruthlessly bombard and massacre their own citizens...

But the barrage of Stalin's Organs and Howitzer fire said otherwise, as the city's residential districts were simply shrouded with rockets and artillery projectiles, fired by drunk soldiers who had no idea what they are doing.
The first few rockets to enter the districts hit the Saint Cyril General Hospital while the staff members and some civilians were still inside it... It was surrounded by apartment blocks and the Main Street of the said district of Nova Varos.

Safe to say? The hospital building collapsed, along with nearby blocks taking damage. People died that day... Collapsed under ruins or bleeding out from shrapnel, it was nothing but madness.
The firefighters and rescue services could barely help as widespread attacks on the city's infrastructure happened, buildings getting hit by rockets and projectiles left and right, bridges being blown up.
Nobody thought that Petrovij's reaction to the "takeover" would be as brutal as this.
Those who continued to stay in the city had nowhere to run and those who could afford to escape? Well... They somehow managed to do it, either before some of the bridges blew up or by simply owning a boat.

But only a chosen few could get such privileges, the rest of the civilian population was stuck for good. Lambs for the slaughter, bound to die because of the lack of care from the leaders.

---

**City Council building, Nova Varos.

Vuk Lukovij was scrambling around the tall building, now barricaded to hell and back and filled with sandbags and other things that could halt a potential assault.
Barking commands on a radio device or at the militants next to him, it was already stressful enough.

Now it was the real test of power. Taking over the city was a piece of cake, considering how it was already one of the biggest centers of dissent in Lendija.
But Petrovij's soldiers were not going to let this slide, even if they had to destroy the entire city.
He expected this to an extent... Even despite him holding hostages, it seems Petrovij decided to send them to the slaughter.

His right-hand woman, the mysterious markswoman nicknamed "Tambura" was sticking to him like gum sticks to a shoe, holding an SVD Dragunov in hand and awaiting further orders.

Up until Lukovij spoke up....
"Okay, I think it's about time we got rid of these worms we are keeping. Kill them all, take a video of it, send it to the media...
Petrovij might hold the journalists by the balls and make them sing along to whatever tune he wants them to and paint us as terrorists, but I am willing to gamble on the fact that it'll cause some form of discontent or demoralization." Vuk said confidently to his emotionless bodyguard.

"Yes sir." The tall blonde woman didn't even hesitate, she simply went along to the office where the hostages were held, formerly known as Nova Varos' city council, bound and tied and held against their will...

After a few moments, gunshots and a bit of screaming was heard. Seems like the deed was done, all that was left there was a bunch of corpses that were simply rotting there.
Careless and thankless, that's what it was all about. For all Commander Lukovij cared? They were corrupt worms, nothing but Petrovij's lackies.

Speaking of Lukovij, he was already out there talking with a different person. A man with a Woodland camo-pattern uniform and a boonie hat.

"I don't care. I am not handing out precious guns and equipment to just anybody. Rally whoever actually knows to shoot properly in the city, if anyone wants to help the cause and doesn't know how to shoot? They'll be used as our eyes, as recon. They'll move along the lines and report army activity in the city to us, okay?" Vuk Lukovij simply barked orders to the man, he had no time to waste, the city was under assault and the situation needed to be kept under control.

"What about the residents, sir? We can't just leave them to die here. We have to evacuate them!" The man in the boonie hat asked.

Vuk heaved a sigh and wiped sweat off his forehead. The situation was intense, Vuk had promised to protect the people of Nova Varos... But in reality? He couldn't do much against Petrovij's onslaught aside from using the city to his advantage.

"Listen... If there is space in the sewers or any other spot? You can get some of them down there. But we can't save them all, especially when we need all the strategic spots we can get to ambush Petrovij's soldiers.

Now here's what you do. They didn't manage to destroy the bridges connecting the Southern part of the city to the Main District. We have a platoon there. Take some civvies there as recon and make them scout along the beaches and what not.
For the rest? Keep the heavy weapons platoon in reserve, whoever's out there? Needs to take cover inside the apartment blocks. As far as I remember, there have been roadblocks and IEDs set up in case of anything. Lure them into killzones and kill them off, bit by bit, use the element of surprise. Use sewers, blocks, whatever you can. If you can't defend a certain place? Rid it with dynamite and explosives just in case and retreat, do the same to the City Council building here too.
We need to cause the maximum amount of casualties to the lapdogs. Got it?"
Seems like Commander Lukovij knew what he was talking about. Leading a Special Forces unit made him gain years of expertise.

The man in the boonie cap simply nodded and mumbled a faint "yes, sir" before going on his business.

War was getting serious.

---

The day of reckoning.

***Nova Varos, the Main District

The platoons holding the front lines were all just twenty six men each. They were not major forces, nor were they able to stop so many men from the opposite sides to overwhelm them...
But they had the advantage... They knew the terrain. Each block, each alleyway, each nook and crannie... Was an opportunity.

As sympathetic civilians were sent across the rubbel to monitor the advance of the soldiers from the sidelines, using simple smartphones to take pictures and keep in contact with the insurgents.
The insurgents were dug in the apartment complexes and also managed to make use of the sewer system, using it to travel without any enemy snipers knowing.

As the soldiers were moving through, they were always under danger of IEDs and ambushes. Roadblocks made out any possible object... Be it rubble left from artillery strikes or set up during the takeover with tires and other junk.
The strategy of the insurgents was simply to concentrate themselves in apartment blocks, which are sturdy enough to survive barrages of howitzer and mortar shells and rockets, specifically hiding in the middle floors is a strategy that the "Nova Varos Popular Militia", as they would call themselves, use to make themselves unseen from the Lendijan troop movements and to be able to shoot at onpassing troops from there... And of course, defend themselves from artillery.

Either way... The point of the whole operation was to use all the things set up... From roadblocks to IEDs in order to lure Lendijan troops en-masse to chokepoints, be it alleyways, parks and etc etc...
The two platoons on the front lines were dug in, ready to set up an ambush on oncoming Lendijan troops, who proceeded on foot according to intel used by civilian drones with cheap cameras attached to them or simply sympathetic civilians scouting the front lines for them by traversing through the ravaged city.

*** Southern Nova Varos, Saint Lazarus District

In the southern district however? The situation was much more suitable for an ambush. The Lendijan troops didn't manage to completely destroy the bridges between the Main District and the Southern District, perhaps this is an oversight or simply incompetence practiced by Petrovij's army? Either way... It was something to work with.

A man with a boonie cap and Woodland camo pattern uniforms was sitting on an old couch inside a small apartment inside a large complex, with maps, radio devices and other things laying scattered across a coffee table, he was surrounded by a few militants.

"Sir, some of the drones and civvies we sent reported that Petrovij's people are trying to go through the beach." One militant spoke, with an AK in his hands.

"That so? Well... For now? We'll simply monitor them. We'll need to prepare for their advance.... See the thing is, the heavy weapons platoon is already under huge f*cking pressure from the Main District. We have two offensives to fight here." The man with the boonie cap scratched his beard as he looked at his soldiers.

"At least we have some RPGs and IEDs set up across various chokepoints... They won't have a choice but to walk through them as they pass through the main road, we'll try to lure them into the park or that boulevard... If we can't defend a certain place? Rig it with explosives and retreat. We can blow up the bridges too to slow them down if they get through, but that's only if." The man continued speaking to the militants as he then wafted his hand, effectively dismissing them afterwards.

"This is Nozh Actual to Nozh-1. Start moving yourself across the blocks, we are going to hit them at the boulevard. Out." The man decisively barked into his radio as he picked up his weapon and went off to the large outside....
There was a war to be fought.

Standard Manouevere Platoon Structure (x 4 Platoons, 26 men each):
- 2 Man Platoon HQ.
- 5 squads, each squads with 5 men.
Each squad is:

- Squad leader (AK-74)
- Marksman (SVD)
- RPG gunner (RPG - 7 +AKS-74U)
- Assistant RPG gunner (AK-74)
- Machine Gunner (RPK)

Heavy Weapons Platoon Structure (26 men):
x3 SPG-9M Recoilless guns.
x6 M1943 Mortar (120-PM-43 mortar) infantry mortars.

[New Aeyariss]

*** Nova Varos, near the cementery:

---

Lt. Anton Kirilovic slowly jumped out of his pickup truck, putting his AK-74 into his hands. Next to him, his Junior LT and second in command of the platoon jumped from another car. Kirilovic had to admit that his second in command was more skilled in the art of war than him - a kid from upper class family who dreamt of military career because his older brother displaced him from business, recently out of military academy. Six years of training he received after passing conscription didn't prepare him well for a grim reality of war he was facing.

His platoon advanced in triangle like formation, with one squad at the front, and two trailing behind it. It was a sound strategy citing the environment they were in.

He looked at the front, where the pickups drove alongisde an infantry squad walking in a column formation... until a massive explosion blinded him and stunned his senses. The first pickup was gone totally and in resulting chaos he could not see how many have survived. Instantly a GPMG located in a towering block in front of them, opened fire, sounding like a malicious woodpecker in the distance.

"Take cover!" he shouted, quickly assessing the situation. The enemy was likely a section strong, but had advantage of controlling a chokepoint across a major road. But he had to risk, otherwise all would be lost.

"Alfa squad" he barked orders into the walkie - talkie like a massive, angry dog "Establish support by fire position across this road! Cover whatever remains of Charlie squad, over! "

He turned. The moment had come.

"Bravo squad, perform a flanking manoeuvre, over!"

"Willco, out!" sounded both squad leaders, and they quickly went to work. Alfa squad brought it's RPK to bear on estimated enemy position, while soldiers of bravo squad were running to the side.

"Smoke out!" shouted a soldier and a thick white fog filled the area among the sound of running humans.

The lieutenant calmed down. This was the standard procedure, thus surely it would work, right? Then another big explosion went to his right, where bravo squad was supposed to be. The surprise shocked him enough that he forgot himself and raised his head out of cover.

A 7.62mm round struck the young LT into the head. He died so fast that he wasn't even able to realize it.

For a brief moment, no one continued to shoot, fear painting itself in faces of Lendijan conscripts. Most of them only now realized what war trully was.

"Do not loose your composure!" shouted the junior lt, now in command "Bravo squad, back! Establish support by fire here, and call for medevac, out!"

He will lead his platoon out of this hell even at the cost of his life.

*** Lendijan 1st Infantry Brigade HQ:

---

"The second battalion's advance has been halted, and the first hadn't been able to move for a bit. The third mechanized is now bogged in the southern district. All formations report considerable losses, and artillery fire has, as of now, been ineffective."

Opening hours of battle for Nova Varos did not go well for Lendijan army. From the western side, the poor conscripts lacking any kind of armour bogged down in the cramped streets, pinned down by snipers and hunter killer teams. Lack of training of artillerymen made their - already weakened by sturdy concentrate blocks which served as housing for the locals - fire infective. Luckily each company had salvation in form of automatic grenade launchers, but those were heavy and hard to carry around.

3rd battalion fared marginally better due to additional protection and firepower of their vehicles - but even now several bmps smoldered among the ruined landscape of Nova Varos.

Brigadier General Ivan Apostolic fumed, his face red with anger.

"Why is this happening?" he shouted to the astonishment of his xos, who now looked at him like on a miracle "Why is a bunch of criminals giving us so much trouble?"

"Because those criminals sir, with all due respect, have better training than we do..." responded Zlatenic "I warned you sir not to underestimate them..."

Apostolic once again looked at his officer, madness painting itself in his eyes. Under more and more pressure, a man who never should have been in control snapped.

"SIIIILLLEEENNCCCEEEE!" he roared "SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! I WILL WIN THIS BATTLE EVEN IF THIS THE LAST F**** THING I WILL DO IN MY F**** LIFE! LUKOVIC WON'T DENY ME MY DIGNITY!"

He turned around, pointing at his communications officer:

"CALL THE GENERAL HQ AND TELL THEM WE REQUEST THEIR MI-24 TO BEGIN SORTIES AGAINST THE ST. LAZARUS DISTRICT!" the General continued snapping, before turning to artillery officer "DIRECT ALL TUBES TO THE ST. LAZARUS DISTRICT! FIRE FOR EFFECT!"

"But sir, it will deprive other forces from artillery support!" countered the concerned artillery officer.

"SHUT UP AND EXECUTE!"

"Willco!" responded both officers, lowering their gazes.

Meanwhile, General Ivan ran out of the HQ, and one of officers could see him take out a massive bottle of Rakija. While the technique of drowning stress in alcohol was certainly effective for some, it wasn't going to end well for a general.

*** Nova Varos, St. Lazarus District:

---

For over four hours, whole attention of an entire artillery battalion was focused on a single district, priority of fires being given to a single battalion. Shells and rockets kept falling like snow in the winter, albeit with poor accuracy as no one yet came with the idea of enforcing discipline among the Lendijan artillerymen.

Then like large buzzing dragonflies, Mi-24 show up. Eight of them flew in groups of four, each carrying fur UB-32 rocket pods. They would use the same tactic of flying low, then popping up from behind the areas occupied by Lendijan army, then hiding back again or flying away to resupply.

With such a support, third battalion would resume attack on weakened enemy positions. The break would be used to fix AGLs and battalion's 82mm mortars to additionally support the advance. Then, direct fire from BMPs would blast the enemy positions to provide cover for a direct assault by infantry.

[Stojam]

***Nova Varos, Near the Cemetery:

---

Today was a fateful day... As the unit of Nozh-1 prepared to engage the horde of Lendijan soldiers pouring into the southern Saint Lazarus district.
Their route was already calculated from the start, they had no choice but to walk through the main boulevard towards the cemetery, a chokepoint that could turn this little encounter into a bloodbath...

Corporal Stefan Mihailovij was sitting next to a little window inside a wide and large apartment block while manning a PKM machine gun on it, it was inside some person's apartment, he didn't even know who was the owner, the entire block was abandoned because of the constant bombing and under the threat of invasion constantly.
All he knew is that he had the people of this specific apartment block in his heart, he knew he had to fight for them against Petrovij's vile invasion...

Stefan Mihailovij used to be a part of a prestigious special operations unit led by Vuk Lukovij, who was disgraced and trialed for war crimes that Petrovij's government approved, he was disposed of like a broken toy, with his unit afterwards disbanded, everyone that was left had to keep silent on whatever happened or they would risk being in the worst prisons of Lendija.
It took years of wishful thinking and gathering money to bail Commander Vuk out... And now he's back, and he's repaying the "corrupt ones" full force, Stefan was proud to be apart of it.

The first convoy of vehicles went through the boulevard as Stefan and the rest of his comrades at the Apartment Block kept radio silence, the explosion would be his signal to start shooting with the GPMG.
... A few minutes of waiting passed, and was followed by an explosion of flames that destroyed a couple of Lendijan army vehicles and killed and injured a few most likely.
Stefan Mihailovij wasted no time manning the GPMG and firing with all his heart at his enemies... He could see bodies dropping down as 7.62×54mmR bullets rained down at the newly created killzone, filled with Petrovij-affiliated soldiers and officers.
The corporal didn't even flinch when he was hammering the trigger, he just went on and on without even flinching or caring. A sense of hatred and vengeance was filled in his heart and brain as he had no mercy towards his self-proclaimed enemy.

Moments and bullets and explosions passed on and on as the enemy finally showed signs of retreating back into the boulevard, having sustained some losses for quite some time. Nozh-1 succeeded in their mission.

"All units, this is Nozh-Actual, give me a SITREP, over." The radio silence broke as the device next to Stefan activated. Stefan Mihailovij wasted no time as he grabbed the radio and started talking into it, he halted his shooting for the time being.

"Nozh-Actual, this is Nozh-1-4, hostiles seem to be retreating at the moment. Over." The Corporal reported the retreat of Petrovij's forces under smoke, they were most likely going to call medevac for the casualties.

"All units, we are commencing a tactical retreat through the back alleys. Regroup at 1 mikes, over." Nozh-Actual calmly spoke over the radio... But Stefan's heart hardened, he didn't want to retreat, especially when they had them running away like this!
Oh well... He knew better than to disobey orders at a desperate time like this, the vengeful corporal simply picked up his PKM and made his way out of the little apartment he's been camping at.

---

***Saint Lazarus District, Nova Varos.

Some time later, after the successful ambush. It didn't take the Lendijan Army too long to respond with an appropriate measure... It was even more than just appropriate, it was disproportional.
Not only they focused all their artillery power on one district, but the army also sent their Mi-24s, or as nicknamed "Wasps" by the local fighters, the little ad-hoc structure of a platoon in the district barely had the power of resistance.
They didn't have any MANPADS, let alone too many anti-tank weapons aside from some RPG-7s.

The situation was grim... They were basically hiding at whatever place they could that had decent cover. From sewers to apartment blocks, they barely had a chance of peeking their heads out as they were pushed deeper inside the district.

The commander with the boonie hat, also known as Slobodan Jokovij with his callsign "Cherokee", was at a grim position.

"Sir... So far we have a few casualties. Corporal Stefan Mihailovij that was gunned down by a helicopter while trying to retreat, along with Private Vladimir Marinovij... And lastly we have Private Mikhail Dedij who got buried under ruins from a building that collapsed after it was bombed by artillery." Another militant was speaking to the "Cherokee", reporting all recent casualties to him.

Slobodan was not impressed... If anything, his face wore nothing but a frown as he was backed into a corner here.
"I don't know if we'll survive a day if it continues like that... We can't just keep hiding like rats while they march on freely forward towards HQ. At this rate we'll have to retreat towards the Main District and blow up the bridges. But it probably won't do any good, because they probably have amphibious vehicles." Slobodan mumbled as he discussed tactics with his subordinate in the dimly lighter room, with all types of maps presented in front of him.

"Give me the secure satellite phone. I need to have a chat with the Supreme Commander." Slobodan ordered his subordinate as he decided to discuss plans with Vuk Lukovij himself.
Soon the satellite phone was brought to Slobodan, he dialed a few numbers on it and tried to call the one above him... The one commanding the entire resistance.

"Yes?" A voice replied from the phone. Almost as if the one from the other side of the line knew Slobodan was going to call.
"Commander, sir, we are at a very tough situation here in the Saint Lazarus district. They are pushing all of their artillery and helicopters on us, they are practically going all in." Slobodan said with concern in his voice, though it was important to remain calm, he still had some worries on his mind.

"I'm aware. Not a bad strategy on Petrovij's end. If he cuts off one district he'll back us into a corner... We don't have the same firepower to match his." The notorious 'Remington' Lukovij replied coldly over the line, which only intensified Slobodan's worries, made him even lose his cool for a minute.
"With all due respect, commander, sir, what are we supposed to do then? We are getting pounded 24/7 by artillery and the daily 'Wasps' they send to wipe us all out, we can't poke our heads out or make a move." Slobodan expressed his emotions and worries over the line, one could understand his concerns as being valid.

"Calm down, lieutenant. We can't afford to lose our senses at a dire time like this........ Listen, I need your platoon to hold out for some time before pulling back into the Main District and blowing up the bridges on the way.
The forces in the Main District are going to remind the lapdogs the fact that it's risky for them to use all their firepower on one district, we're going to harass them 24/7 in constant reprisal operations. You guys over there just need to hold out as much as you can, prioritize every hiding spot you can to minimize casualties. That's the situation right now." Always with the solutions... Vuk Lukovij wasn't some no name commander, he knew what he was saying.

And Slobodan had no choice but to trust his words and go along with the plan.

"Wilco." The lieutenant replied shakily over the line before the line hung up....

There was no time to waste and no tears left to cry. There was a war to be fought.

---

***Nova Varos, Main District

The majority of the Lendijan army's firepower was concentrated on the Saint Lazarus district, something that opened a lot of opportunities for the platoons in the Main District.
It means that it left them without artillery support... It left them defenseless.

Every day there was at least one section from each manuevere platoon silently marching towards known positions, trying to use chokeholds and to flank their positions, traversing through alleys and blocks, using even the sewer system. They knew every inch of the city... Something that the Lendijan army lacked.
Raids and ambushes were done on the advancing battalions, whenever they were just patrolling or trying to move through.
Either machine guns firing like woodpeckers from apartment blocks when they are resting or RPGs flying right at their convoys.

They even mobilized their biggest weapon... The heavy weapons platoon that was their biggest source of firepower.
They had old mortars from the old days, something that should be in a museum instead of the front lines, the six 120-PM-43 infantry mortars, also known as SAMOVARs.
It still worked, so they had nothing to complain about. Those mortars would be towed through the city in GAZ trucks, placed inside ruined buildings and places with openings.
They shelled the positions of the Lendijan infantry battalions in the north and west sides of the Main District.

SPG-9M recoilless guns were also used in ambushes as members from the heavy weapons platoon placed them in apartment blocks alongside with regular guerrillas that would open fire on Lendijan columns and then retreat. It was easy to harass and then pull back with a force that stands on barely just a section.

[New Aeyariss]

*** Lendijan Army HQ:

Night broke down, and with it, the conflict calmed down.

The assault had gone to hell faster than expected. Burning wrecks of Lendijan vehicles stretched as far as eye could see, scent of fuel still possible to be felt. Out of them protruded human corpses, lacking various body parts. Surprise and fear painted itself on marble faces of dead, young conscripts who for the first time met such cruelty.

It was officially time to sleep, but Brigadier General Ivan Apostolic, once a dignified officer of Lendijan army, chose to spend it by snoring loudly with his head on his desk, and a large bottle rakiya, mostly empty, next to him. Scent of alcohol hit from him so hard that passing officers had to cover their noses. He continued to mumble something under his nose, nervously. During the officer's time for break, his chief of manouevere was nominally in command.

"1st Battalion reports losses at 10%" spoke grimly the intelligence officer "The combat capability is partially lost. The second battalion losses are at eight percent, and the force attacking St. Lazarus is at four percent. And this is just one day. If we keep this going we may soon loose the capability to conduct offensive operations for good."

Zlatenic perfectly understood it. When a formation received too much looses in short time, it's capability to go on the offensive was limited. At 20%, no offensive capability existed any more. And they were slowly reaching that level.

"We are facing Lukovic's unit after all." he spoke "They know what they are doing. We will have to act swiftly to prevent a disaster."

"How?" asked the chief of artillery operations "If we commit our reserve battalion now, we risk it suffering the same fate..."

"Not if we commit it wisely" countered Zlatenic "It has three free companies. We will have it bypass the river further upstream and approach the city from the east. Then one company will hit them directly above the St. Lazarus, and encircle whatever insurgents are located in that area. The second one will attack to the North, to distract the enemy, and the third will form our reserve."

"This has a chance of success" pondered the commander of intelligence "It would require a correct timing on our part, but once St. Lazarus is cleared, we will have them surrounded from all sides. At that point it does not matter if we can conduct offence or not."

"Something tells me that Gen. Aposotlij would not approve of this idea" spoke the chief of artillery operations "The previous engagements scarred him to death."

"Then we act before he recovers from the amount of rakiya he consumed. He is a career officer anyway."

---

*** Nova Varos:

When the dawn came, the sun rose with fire. It's rays broke through sulphur - filled air to illuminate the beginning of an offensive.

Upon receiving orders, the reserve battalion crossed the river upstream. It was now coming from the east, fresh and ready to fight, as much as a corrupt conscript formation was.

In St Lazarus, the soldiers woke up from their positions. Magazines were checked, guns loaded and commanding officers issued orders.

First came the artillery. With loud whistling shells and katyushas started pouring again like hailstorm. Yellow flowers bloomed all across St. Lazarus as Stalin's organs played their lethal song.

Then a loud war cry came from Lendijan side, as soldiers readied behind their cover when the shelling has stopped. Now came smoke - omnigenous and black, it cut the vision, completely as Lendijan army charged through it. In front of the infantry BMPs rolled like fat caterpillars, trying to provide as much cover as they could. Then and again "Grom" unleashed a fiery lance on rebel positions.

And at the same time, the reserve battalion came. It's BTRs rolled swiftly from the east, until the infantry dismounted and charged into the fray.

This day the fate of Nova Varos would be decided.

[Langenia]

Berane, Lendija

Darkness gave way to light as the first rays of the sun began to shine down on the town, as Abdulah Ismailovij walked down the street to the mosque, in time for the Fajr prayer of the day. Ismailovij was a middle-aged man in his late 50s with greying black hair and a beard dressed in a flowing thawb and turban. He was a Shia Muslim cleric, who had completed a period of Islamic study at a Shia seminary. He could hear the call to prayer in the distance, and he started walking faster. Entering, he kneeled along with the masses of people in the mosque and the prayer started. The imam began reciting the prayer aloud in a rich and flowing, almost singing, voice. And thus began the Fajr prayer.

By the time Ismailovij left and was walking back to his home, the sun was rising more and more into the sky, its rays as bright as ever.
"Abulah! Abdulah! I've been looking for you!"
Ismailovij turned around to find one of his fellow clerics running towards him, a man named Mehmed Kasimovij.
"Good morning, Mehmed! How may I help you?"
"Have you heard of recent events?" asked Mehmed, his cheeks red from running.
Ismailovij was confused for a moment, then his mind cleared and he nodded in understanding. "I have, the battle in Nova Varos, right?"
"Yes. The battle. It's been intensifying recently, and tensions between the government and ethnic Stojamians are starting to explode ever since that football riot."
"I remember the reports from that. So, how does this matter to us, Mehmed? The government is highly corrupt and its politicians are heavily engrossed in vice, and the affairs of the ethnic Stojamians are not relevant to us. Berane is peaceful, and we the followers of Allah can worship in peace."

Mehmed paused, and both men stared at each other for a moment in silence. "It matters everything to us, Abdulah. The ethnic tensions in this country have escalated into a war that you and I both know will eventually engulf all of Lendija, including our Islamic community here in Berane, and all the country. Come, I have a proposal for you." Mehmed and Abdulah both returned to Abdulah's home, a safe place away from sharp listeners on the streets. They entered, and closed the door, taking seats on the mats in the living room. "As I said, I have a proposal. It is rather unprecedented, but I believe it is a good measure of defense amid these trying times. I propose establishing a new Partia Allakhova and turning our militia as its armed wing into an army of the faithful with modern weapons." The Partia Allakhova had been a political organization that had been founded in Stojam and later spread to Lendija, declaring that it represented the Shia Muslims. It had attracted numerous Shi'ite clerics, including Abdulah and Mehmed. However, crackdowns by security forces resulted in its demise. The militia Mehmed referred to was composed of volunteers from the Shi'ite community across Lendija, under Mehmed's and Abdulah's leadership, defending the Shia in Lendija. Part of what Mehmed was suggesting was to reactivate the Partia Allakhova's armed wing using that militia.

Abdulah was taken aback. Mehmed's proposal was a serious one. To establish a new Partia Allakhova could make them into a target for the security forces of the corrupt government of Viktor Petrovij if they noticed that the Shi'ites were building a political and military force that could become a possible rival to the government and national army. But at the same time, it was a prudent one as long as secrecy was maintained, as the Shi'ites had a potential to be targets of both ethnic Stojamian warlords and their militias, as well as government security forces. After a few minutes of thinking, Abdulah responded. "I approve it. I can see the prudency in such an action. However, we must maintain utmost secrecy. I don't want to gain the attention of hostile factions before we are ready. Where are my manners? My apologies for the lack of hospitality, allow me to get you some tea."

The ghost of a smile appeared on Mehmed's face. "You won't regret it, my friend. I will assemble an army of the faithful worthy of conducting a good jihad." Both men chuckled, but there was no humor in the sound. They were getting into potentially dangerous territory.

---

The sounds of gravel being crunched was heard as a convoy of pick-up trucks filled with men made their way through the dirt roads that crisscrossed the forests near Berane. The convoy stopped at a clearing in the middle of the woods, and the men disembarked, unloading a motley assortment of weapons ranging from M16s to AK-47s. They were members of the Shi'ite militia that had been organized by Abdulah and Mehmed, and Mehmed was waiting for them. He was accompanied by a couple of men around him in combat fatigues. The clearing was furnished a small firing range and an obstacle course, indicating the training that was in store for the militiamen. But most notably of all was a certain contraption, a simple artillery rocket mounted on a steel rail, arousing the interest of the armed men.

"Thank you all for answering my call," began Mehmed. He continued.
"Recent events, including the clashes in Nova Varos, have compelled me to order this assembly of the militia, approved by our esteemed leader Abdulah Ismailovij. With me today are these instructors and army veterans to assist in the training. But most importantly, what all of you have been probably been wondering about, is that rocket contraption over there."
He gestured to it.
"We are going to learn how to build these rocket and employ them en masse to inflict serious damage on enemy infrastructure during wartime."
Interested murmuring broke out among the militiamen.

The first exercises of the day were physical, getting the men back into shape, making them do push-ups, running through the bush, and then running through the obstacle course. Then came the practice at the firing range, supervised by the instructors. Finally came the moment everyone was waiting for: working with the rockets, learning how to assemble and disassemble them, and learning how they were fired. The Shia of Lendija were mobilizing for war as tensions escalated, ready to fight back and not allow themselves to be oppressed. Abdulah and Mehmed were determined that their new Partia Allakhova would not meet the same fate as the previous one.