The Ides of March [IC|MT|COMPLETED]

by **Kaarland** » Sun Mar 07, 2021 8:43 pm

The Euboean Sea - Seas off Cimmeria

Navarch (admiral) Attalus surveyed the grand fleet which had assembled under his command. Vessels from every state, and every port had been called upon, to both enclose, and defend the island. Their blockade stretched all along the coast of Cimmeria

The Navarch had called for his captains so he may inform them of their mission. “I know you’d all rather be on that rock, but our task is still important men. We must first engage any rebel pirates who seek to escape their fate; and equally important, we must prevent any foreign vessels, that have not been given authority to pass, from breaching the blockade. If necessary, force may be used.”

CLF Command Centre – Cimmer, Cimmeria

There was a tension and anxiousness in the air as the rebels scrambled to get a hold of the situation. They had received radio communication from Northern beach defences of an invading fleet. Then communication had been cut off. They assumed the worst, but the nearby town of Atmoni had no movement to report, having lost contact with all patrols in the area of the beach.

The rebel leader Akkadian resolved to send his brother and general, Abbas, along with a detachment of reinforcements to Atmoni. He was tasked with sending patrols north to investigate the situation, and preparing the city’s defences for the impending siege. Atmoni was a vital strategic position for the rebels; losing it could mean losing the capital Cimmer, and then the whole island.

The Commonwealth Society Assembly - Ida, Britcan

The Vice-Chair rose to the podium, having listened to the proceedings so far. His primary objective had been to head off any attempt of the international community to intervene directly on the island, and to challenge the demand for reparations from Halleon; he had therefore been pleased to see both the motion from Halleon be roundly dismissed, and only minor protestations around the establishment of the blockade, and little talk of peacekeeping forces.

“I’d like to thank the delegate from Halleon for his decision to dismiss his claim of holding Kaarland liable for monetary losses; however, I would like to clarify for the benefit of the assembly, does he mean to lodge a new motion addressing in his words ‘that every member of the Commonwealth Society should be held responsible for the actions of piracy committed within their sovereign waters’, or has the matter been dismissed entirely?”

He then turned to the delegate from Oshibe.

“And to the nation of Oshibe, as we have made clear to the nation of Magubu, the terrorists on the island of Cimmeria are dangerous and murderous criminals. The territory of Cimmeria is sovereign territory of the League of Kaarland, and the terrorists’ cause cannot be considered anything other than illegitimate.”

“On the issue of refugees, as you all will understand the liberation of more territory opens the opportunity for refugee facilitates to be established within safe zones on the island. Therefore, the top priority is to maintain the TEZ and continue the advance against rebel positions.”

“Speaking directly to the proposal of ‘liberation squads’ by the honourable delegate from Oshibe, we believe such an initiative to be both impractical and unnecessary. And of course, share the concerns raised by the delegate from Batavie over issues of sovereignty.”

“To the request from Halleon that an inquiry into the refugee situation be established, I’m sure in due course the situation will become clearer, but at this early stage it is unclear what effect the crisis will have on displacement of peoples. If the situation develops in such a way that it would impact the international community, we will of course raise this.”

“Finally, we believe the proposals from Kherkov of a reduction in size of the TEZ, a week from now, to be a fair compromise.”

“However, whilst we share their concerns that the proposed new commission should not infringe upon the rights’ of states, we do not believe that to be the case here. We must disagree and ask that states do support this motion, as we believe it to be beneficial to the prosperity of the entire region.”

With that the Vice-Chair ceded the floor.

by **Batavie** » Mon Mar 08, 2021 5:02 am

Assembly Hall
The Commonwealth Society Building
Ida, Britcan

After listening to the Kherkovian delegate speak Noah wanted to once again stand up, but the Vice-Chair and Kaarlandian delegate had gained the floor before him. After he was done speaking Noah stood up and walked to the podium. This time he brought with him what seemed like a rolled-up canvas of some sort. As he stood at the podium to speak he was quiet for 5 minutes, appearing to simply look around. The chair spoke up ”Is the honourable delegate going to speak?”

”Of course, honourable chair, dear fellow delegates,

Today we see once again what this assembly is good for. It makes us act respectfully and kind to one another, even if our blood is boiling from hate and disgust. A truly wonderful mould for diplomatic discourse, but not one that gives us room for clear and efficient communication. So when I hear the Kherkovian delegate speaks of ‘a private fleet for the commissioner’ I get sick to my stomach and my blood starts to boil.

This is obviously not the intention of the Batavian government or the Saint-Augustine government, and I think today we showed quite clearly that we are beyond dedicated to national sovereignty. I know I speak for all my countrymen when I say that is the last thing we want. But as I already said earlier today piracy is not a national problem, piracy is an international problem. The honourable delegate of Kherkov seems to ignore Article G clause C, which states that any one nation can not make up more than 40% of a task-force. This means that any task-force needs at least three nations taking part, and thus prevents the commissioner from using it as a private fleet. Now the honourable delegate could definitely propose an amendment and we’d fully support any measures to make sure the commission can not be abused. I truly, and I mean this honestly, welcome any amendment from the Kherkovian delegate to make this Resolution acceptable for their nation, and if no amendment is sufficient then I’d love to hear that too. Furthermore, we thank Kaarland for their support of our Resolution.

Then on the Kherkovian delegate’s response to the TEZ situation. A time table of 1 week for the shrinking of the TEZ around Cimmeria is fully acceptable to Batavia. I am rescinding our proposal to keep the international community informed as it is clear to us now that not everyone universally condemns these terrorists. Typical for the terrorist collective Magubu. I wish to express to the chair and this assembly that when I made my proposal I forgot the illegal organisation Magubu would also get updates as the Batavian government doesn’t understand why any nation would recognise them as anything more than a group of thugs. I will now show how deep-seated our hatred for terrorists like Magubu, and those on Cimmeria too, is.”

Noah unfolds the item he brought with him to the stage, it is the flag of Magubu. His hand disappears into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and he pulls out a zippo lighter. His thumb strikes over the spark wheel and a small flame comes out of the lighter. As guards visibly look tense and ready to intervene, he holds the lighter next to the flag and holds it up as it burns.
”See, honourable delegates! Terrorists disgust us, we’d like to… auw auw”
Before he could finish speaking he had to throw the flag down as his hands started hurting from the heat. He stamped on it to put out the flames, now holding up a half-burned Magubuan flag he spoke: ”See, terrorists disgust us! We’re in full support of Krepost efforts to defeat the Cimmerian terrorists.”
The Magubuan delegate shouted out at Noah with obscenities, one even tried to stand up but was stopped by his fellow Magubuans. Noah did not seem to mind.
After the Magubuans had stopped shouting, Noah put down the flag and continued speaking in a normal tone.

”With that out of the way, I’d like to agree with the Kherkovian delegate on the matter of Britcan, I believe their current political crisis has left them unable to form an adequate response to this crisis and that is regrettable but understandable. We wish to express our best wishes to Britcan in their difficult times. That being said the rejection of this TEZ outright seems foolish, obviously, at the start of this operation, it was quite justified as a state of conflict existed around the island. With the clear and set out time table for the shrinking and eventual removal of the TEZ I think it unwise for any nation to pursue other solutions to this matter. Thank you for your attention.
Ceterum censeo Magubuem esse delendam.”

As Noah sat back down many people looked at him like he was crazy, his staff who had watched him burn the Magubuan flag looked at him with awe and fear. He was definitely going to get headlines now, he thought.

Oranje Kamer
Paleis Noordeinde
Willem stad, Batavia

Wilhelmina was seated next to Willem as they were informed by Erika of the flag burning committed by Noah in the commonwealth assembly. ”Thank you Erika.” Wilhelmina spoke barely able to contain her laughter. When Erika had left the room both she and Willem burst out in a fit of laughter. ”Oh my God” Willem spoke laughing in between words ”that kid really knows how to grab the attention.”

“He’s gonna get fame throughout the commonwealth with an action like this.” Wilhelmina spoke finally able to stop herself from laughing.

“Obviously, I assume that was his intention, he’s probably eyeing my position and he knows anti-Magubu rhetoric tracks well with the general populace.”

“We’ll have to see what the international response is, I assume it won’t be too bad as Magubu is quite isolated but we’ll have to see, regardless I think Noah definitely has the gusto for the position. Now it’s just hoping he’s also a competent executor.”

Studio 3
Media park
Willem stad, Batavia

”We interrupt your regularly scheduled programme with news from Ida, Britcan. The Batavian delegate has during a speech in the commonwealth assembly burned the Magabuan flag, we invited our regular political panel....”

by **Britcan** » Mon Mar 08, 2021 12:20 pm

Commonwealth Society Assembly
Ida, Britcan

Terrance Denton had been taking notes throughout the session, preparing to make his second intervention of the day. He’d appreciated the sentiment of the Delegate from Oshibe, but knew that the idea of ‘Liberation Squads’ wasn’t one to be seriously considered. A refugee policy would be welcomed and Britcan would naturally take in any refugees from Cimmeria, but Denton knew that trying to convince some of the nations present to care about refugees when the didn’t even care about their own citizens wouldn’t go far.

The contributions of the Halleonian delegate had been a pleasant surprise. The contrast between these proposals and the initial proclamation of Kaarite liability was stark. Denton couldn’t help but wonder if the delegate had received new instructions. If Halleon did choose to involve itself that would represent a major shift in the region.

Ackerman was exactly what you’d expect of the Kherkovians. He’d never have changed his tune even in the face of overwhelming evidence. The consequence of being high on your own propaganda supply, presumably. Denton couldn’t help but smile at the notion of Kaarite involvement in the blockade, knowing full well that the Kherkoviand would be surrounding the island irregardless of permission.

Sophos’s speech may as well have involved him prostrating himself before the Kherkovian delegation. The the blockade remaining was a strange thing for the Kaarites to be pressing, given it only served to entrench Kherkovian dominion. Denton wondered if this was a product of ignorance or cowardice.

As the delegate from Batavie gave his speech Denton glanced up from his notes, realising that the speech was going in an unusual direction. The Batavian, Denton remembered him being called Noah, was going on a rather angry tangent about Magubu. As he began brandishing the flag and the lighter it occurred to Denton what was about to happen. He stacked up his papers, slipped them into a folder, and stashed them in his briefcase. His aides followed suit as the delegate ignited the flag. Denton took a moment to wonder where Noah had got the flag. He'd certainly not purchased it in Britcan or it wouldn't have caught fire so easily. Denton wasn't even paying attention as the delegate railed against Britcan, instead watching the smoke rise towards the ceiling.

The sprinklers went off, including the one directly over the Batavian delegation, extinguishing the fire and soaking any papers left out on the desks. The fire alarm began to sound and people headed for the doors in an orderly fashion that the fire marshal would doubtlessly have loved to see. In the distance the sirens of fire engines could be heard.

The Press Room, Forten Regional Assembly
Oakwood, Britcan

Mere minutes after the vote in the National Assembly a press conference had been called in Oakwood. The MPs from the Agrarian Union had declined to talk to the press and it was expected that their party leader, Sarah Turner, would be answering questions from Oakwood. This odd setup was indicative of the Agrarian Union. They were the foremost party in Forten, Britcan's rural easternmost province, yet relatively small nationally. This meant that their party leader was not in fact an MP, but instead the Provincial Premier. Cameras flashed as she entered the room, taking her place behind the podium. She cleared her throat and began to read from her prepared statement, her distinctive local accent amplified through the microphones.

"After a period of long discussion I and the MPs from my party decided that we could not in good conscience support the Finance Bill proposed today. Though we agree with many of the provisions set out in the bill itself and will endeavour to pass them at a later date, the fact that the Prime Minister both framed it as a vote of confidence in his government and attempted to use underhanded tactics to get it passed meant that we couldn't vote alongside him." She paused, looking out over the gathered reporters.

"The actions of the Prime Minister are unacceptable to my values and to the values of my party. We have no confidence is his premiership."

Conservative Party Headquarters,
Lontwa, Britcan

Gregory Abbott, leader of the Conservative Caucus, watched Turner’s press conference intently with a small group of senior staff and party spokespersons. As the Leader of the Opposition, he was the individual best placed to take advantage of the current political chaos. He’d laid low so far, however, not wanting to distract from the Government’s ongoing troubles. “Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake.” Abbot couldn’t remember who’d said that, but it seemed apt for the current situation. Irregardless, the time for waiting was over: the Agrarian Union had fired the starting pistol.

"You should phone Turner today, Sir. Tell her you’ll support passing the bits of the finance bill she liked if she’s willing to help ditch Rooke." Said an advisor, his eyes shifting from the screen to Abbott.

"Hang on a minute. We can’t back a bill we just voted down. Especially not one chocked full of socialist nonsense." Interjected the finance spokesperson, looking to Abbott for support.

"Well we do need the Agrarians on side if we’re to have any hope of getting enough votes." Noted an aide to no one in particular. For a Prime Minister to be ejected under the Britcani governmental system a new Prime Ministerial candidate was required to win the conference of Parliament. Rooke losing was not enough: Abbott had to win.

"The Caucus might stomach the rural infrastructure provisions, but selling them on the grain price provisions? It’s not going to happen. Were we to force the issue you’d just be starting your premiership with an internal rebellion." Stated the chief whip, cooly.

"I'm not offering them anything." Stated Abbott, rising from his seat. "They've shown their hand. They've said they have no confidence in the Prime Minister. They can't reverse that. Once we make our move they'll fall into line."

by **Kaarland** » Mon Mar 08, 2021 2:18 pm

The Commonwealth Society Assembly - Ida, Britcan

Sophos quite enjoyed the display from the Batavian delegate; although he didn’t appreciate the drenching from the sprinkler system as he made his way swiftly to the exit as the fire alarm system blared out.

After a short interval, the delegates had filed back into the building, and taken their seats once more.

Sophos rose to the podium.

“Well, I don’t think anyone can doubt the delegate from Batavie’s enthusiasm for hunting pirates. But for the sake of our linen let’s hope he’s run out flags”. He pulled at his suit still dripping with water.

“Honourable delegates, I’m aware that we are coming to an end of this session. I would ask you all to present your closing arguments before we take a vote on any proposed motions”.

The Vice-Chair ceded the floor.

by **Magubu** » Mon Mar 08, 2021 4:27 pm

DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC OF MAGUBU

The Commonwealth Society Assembly - Ida, Britcan

Tamar Hagano, Magubu Ambassador to the CSA, had his blood boiling. He could not believe the disrespect the Batavie ambassador had showed to his motherland and to his people. He would have surley beaten the man if it wasn't for his comrades holding him back. As he began to reconcile himself he adjusted his tie and flag pin and quickly made his way to the Assembly floor, wiping some droplets off his coat. He took the podium with great confidence and began to speak to the world.

" This session is not close to end, not when the Batavie ambassador disrespects the honorable nation of Magubu. Mr. Noah has brought dishonor upon this building, it's laws and the occupants therin. He burned the flag of my home before you all today yet calls us the terrorist. How DARE Mr.Noah do such a thing. Trust me when I say that the President and Supreme Commander will be briefed on every single detail of the events that have been on full display today. Magubu motions and demands that the CSA strip Mr. Noah of his title of Ambassador, as well as an official condemnation of his behavior. Magubu will not be treated as a fools nation, we are a proud and strong people who have suffered and endured much. Believe me that any nation with ties to Magubu that does not harshly condemn this act will face the consequences determined by our President and people.

Mr. Noah...you're nation has enslaved many of the people of my continent. You fled like locusts to your "colony" because you couldn't get your hands upon more free thinking human beings. Your civilizations most world changing moment was the "Idigenous removal act" as you pioneered the art of brutality against your fellow man. So spare us your lectures on our support for Cimmerian independence. Your actions today are merely a innate reflection of your civilization, whatever god or gods you believe in, may they have mercy upon your soul and country..."

With that Mr. Hagano left the podium and headed back to his chair. His comrades patted him on the back, telling him that they would celebrate tonight for standing up to the great powers.

Kogabu, Magubu

President and Supreme Commander Magati was watching the television and cursing at the other nations and he almost spit out his drink when he saw the Batavie ambassador burn his nations flag, a flag designed by the regime and his original army that toppled the old great power backed monarchy. When his ambassador took the stage he cheered, pulled out a cigar and began puffing onto it. He picked up a phone and called his secretary.

" Get my ambassador something nice, he earned it today, oh and " He took a puff of the cigar, the medals dangling and shining on his chest " Bring me the Minister of Foreign Affairs..." He turned and looked back at high definition image of the Assembly...

by **Demesetelis** » Mon Mar 08, 2021 4:39 pm

Tarmac G
Grand Camel Rider City Airport
Camel Rider City, Demesetelis
The evening before the Commonwealth Society Assembly

As the sun slips behind the Skybone mountain range, the sultan removes his Maybach sunglasses and slips them into a pocket of his suit jacket. "And the nephews are all on the jets already?" Yells the sultan, straining to be heard over the wind rushing through the open cart. "Yes" Replies the driver. "We made sure there would be no delays, we wish to have you in Britcan as soon as possible." The sultan looked out towards the rapidly approaching jets. 3 black private jets stand in a line at one end of the runway, each retrofitted personally for use by the sultan's family. A fourth plane sits ahead waiting to takeoff. As they pass the first jet, the sultan notices airport crew struggling to carry large luggage onto the jet. "So the nephews are all on the jets, but of course all of their shit is another story." Exclaims the sultan. "I told them to pack light, this would not be very long of a stay. No one needs 14 tracksuits for a quick trip! When we land check the luggage, if Aseel has the most boxes again send him to me. I will send him home in a wooden sailboat!". The driver stared ahead at their destination, the fourth plane. A Boeing Airbus completely gutted and designed from the ground up by the sultan's finest designers. Painted perfectly to match the Demesetelian sand dunes, and with all exposed metal plated by 24caret rose gold, the plane blended in well with the surrounding desert, save for the twinkle of the sunset on gold. Stopping at the foot of the staircase to the plane, both passengers disembarked from the cart and began to climb the steps. Before the sultan's feet reached the door to the plane the cart was already being driven off the runway, and by the time he found himself in his seat the plane was moving down the runway. The sultan hated other people wasting his time, so this promptness was common when the sultan traveled.

Once a chime signaled to the plane it was safe to move about, an attendant, one of the sultan's many nieces, entered the office with a drink cart. "Your whisky coke, sir." After placing the drink on the mahogany desk, she turns to the other man in the room, "And anything for you, Uncle Caleb?" "Stoli and redbull, leave the can". Drinks dispensed, the attendant exits the office. As he takes his first sips of the whisky coke, the sultan studies his brother for a moment. Currently mixing his perfect drink, Caleb Demesetelis is years younger than the sultan, but by looking at them side by side you would not tell. His face lined with worry and scars of the past, he looks much older than his time. As the older brother, the sultan had protected Caleb in their childhood, but now Caleb protects the sultan. As his Minister of security, Caleb was tasked with keeping the sultan and his family safe from any potential dangers. This was not an easy job, as not only did the sultan travel often throughout his country, but the nature of the opposition meant that those who disagreed with the sultans actions would not simply write a blog or form a party, they would seek dramatic solutions. The head of security has not had many run ins in with danger recently, but the potential avenues of attack keep Caleb up at night. Even now, he will only have one drink, and the redbull will overpower any drowsiness he feels from the vodka. Or so he reasons. "We will arrive before breakfast, giving you plenty of time to prepare for the assembly" His words tore the sultan from his thoughts. "Yes" The sultan mused. "The assembly... I am eager to hear what the delegates say about the pirate plan. If they try to deny the Resolution they will hear quite a lot from me. My tangents will be unending!" Caleb looks to the sultan after sipping his drink. "There will be much more to discuss than the pirate Resolution. The Cimmerian exclusion zone has been causing a stir recently, and I am sure the economics of it all will have to be discussed as well." The sultan takes a large gulp of his own drink and says, "Yes, yes economics and zones and blah blah. I picked the most relevant nephews to come and listen to the assembly so they will care about the little details, and I will care about my being able to hunt pirates from a warship. Now, leave me to my work, I must gather my thoughts for the assembly.". By gather his thoughts, the sultan meant consume 4 more whisky cokes before going to bed. Later that night, as the Airbus soared 30,000 feet in the sky and the sultan snored, Minister Caleb poured over the plans for the sultan's route to and from the assembly.

Assembly Hall
The Commonwealth Society Building
Ida, Britcan

After the Magubu delegate sits down, The Sultan jumped out of his seat, Giorgio Armani cologne wafting throughout the assembly room, mixing with the acrid smoke to make quite the scent. The commotion had awoken a fire in the sultan, as he had seemed very lethargic before, doodling on his notepad as people spoke of Article G blah blah blah.

"My esteemed colleagues and their representatives, I am sure that as we are sitting here, your eyes have been on me. What does the sultan think of all this, you say? I have much to discuss, but first I know you have also been wondering who are those stunning folks sat behind the sultan? Well, to show how committed Demesetelis is to combating these pirates and terrorists, I have brought 48 of my nephews to observe the assembly and to make notes on how best they can serve the Commonwealth in these matters!"

The sultan turns his back to the assembly and begins naming his nephews and their titles. As each name is said, the nephew stands and performs the traditional Demesetelian greeting, a bow with one leg kicked back in the air. The men range in age and dress, most of the older men are wearing their ceremonial outfit, medals and all, some younger men wore tracksuits, with at least 12 men matching exactly down to the parts in their hair. The rest wore slacks and collard shirts, the youngest in the crowd could not have been older than 15 although even he sported some black facial hair.

"First we have Asad my Grand Head of Communication, my top advisor Adeel, Aayan the Grand Head of Foreign Affairs, Abdullah the Grand Head of Domestic Affairs, Abbas the Grand Head of commerce, Adnan the Grand Head of the Treasury, Afan the Grand Head of Air Defense, Ashar the Grand Head of Land Defense, Ashan the Grand Head of Sea Defense, Afreen the Grand Head of Space Defense, Ali the Grand Head of Imaginary Defense, Ahmed the Grand Head of Weapon Production, Anas the Grand Head of Wellbeing, Arif the Grand Head of Illbeing, Aqib the Grand Head of Agriculture, Arsalan the Grand Head of Commerce, Amir the Grand Head of Health, Aryan the Grand Head of Human Resources, boy is he a treat at parties! Arham the Grand Head of Non-Human Resources, Asif the Grand Head of Rural Housing, Arshad the Grand Head of City Housing, Asim the Grand Head of Royal Housing, Atif the Head of Transportation by Air, Ayaan the Head of Transportation by Land, Ayan the Head of Transportation by Sea, Ayaaan the Head of Transportation by Rocket, Azaan the Grand Head of Energy, Alid the Grand Head of Entropy, Abid the Head of Education, Aseld the Grand Head of Re-education, Aayel the Head of Veterans Affairs, Alane the Head of Drugs, Aseed the Grand Head of Drugs for use by the Sultan, Aren the Head of "Democratic" Affairs, Abed the Head of Big Business, Abod the Head of Small Business, Abbid the Head of Midsize to Moderate Business, Adelen the Grand Head of Water Distribution, Ashod the Head of Food Distribution, Aquel the Head of Air Distribution, Azel the Head Protector of Camel Rider City, Awan the Head of Waterway Security, Acen the Grand Head of Camel Affairs, Adod the Grand Head of Ocelot Affairs, Azazel the Grand Head of the Underworld, Allen the Head of Warship Manufacturing, Alqboob the Head of Peaceship Manufacturing, and finally the two nephews who I promoted just for this assembly, Awil the Head of Anti-Pirate Measures, and Alil the Head of Anti-Terrorist Measures."

Having seemingly not taken a breath in the last 15 minutes, the sultan turns back to the delegation and takes a quick sip of his drink. He had requested a whisky coke, but of course ice water was served instead. No matter, he will have plenty of time to drink after the assembly. Ignoring the pained look on some faces around the room, the sultan continued.

"Now that you have seen how committed I am to these causes, I must ask, how committed are the other nations around this room? While the representatives chosen to speak for their respective nations have been wonderful (the sultan slips a wink at Noah across the table, still slightly sweaty and red faced from the earlier debacle, immediately after scowling at the Magubu representative), I thought I would see more royal faces considering the grave nature of these recent events! I'm sure some of you may remember, but my father Bilal made it a point to be present at every Commonwealth assembly during his time, and I plan to do the same! Demesetelis' commitment to the Commonwealth is unwavering!" The sultan's tone rises as he speaks, a clear indication of an upcoming tangent. "We sit here and argue over semantics while these pirates and terrorists are pillaging our waters and working to ruin our nations! My grandfather did not sit and argue over words when he was faced with terroristic plots, no! He rose to action, even donning a disguise to infiltrate a plot to blow up his statue in Camel Rider City! Now yes, that plot ended up being comprised of other Demesetelian government members in disguise looking to catch terrorists, but that is not what mattered. No, what mattered is that he stood ready to make the ultimate sacrifice for his land! Would you do the same?" The sultan begins to pace around behind the podium. "That is what I plan to do if the proposal to fight pirates is agreed upon! You will see me on the bow of my best warship taking potshots myself!! You talk of a commonwealth police force, no! The sultan believes this initiative should be voluntary, both for those fighting the pirates and those who request help patrolling their waters. We do not want to step on toes, just those of pirates!" The sultan breaks out into laughter, his nephews quickly joining in. "To show our commitment to this cause, should it be accepted, Demesetelis promises 5 ships and 1 submarine to combat this growing threat!" The sultan takes a moment to flip through his doodles, looking for something specific. He lands on a drawing of an island surrounded by red squiggles. "Oh, yes! The matter of the TEZ. While we do not utilize many sea shipping lanes in the area, I want it to be known that I believe the compromise to shrink the zone within the week is a good arrangement for all. Now my original solution to this plan would be to paint all civilian and approved military ships a bright pink, so that even if they are traveling through the zone, the Kherkovians would clearly be able to see they were not pirates. I was hoping someone here would have ideas on how to stop the terrorists and pirates from painting their ships pink... but now the point is moot. If anyone is in need of any ship painting, please inquire with Ayan, as we have already begun testing on a new revolutionary method of painting. My idea is to line the ships up, and then drop paint from a plane flying overhead! We have already retrofitted 4 military planes with this paint technology, so please call him quickly as I feel we will be getting many new customers."

The sultan begins to walk back to his seat, but a thought grips him as he makes his way there. He begins to speak again, now halfway between the podium and his seat. There is no microphone for him to speak into, but his voice booms across the assembly hall anyway.

"And the terrorists! I have not even had a chance to discuss my thoughts on that matter." The sultan spits on the floor, suspiciously close to the Magubu representatives. "While I do not think any less of Kaarland for losing land to terrorists, I do not wish to see any further nations tainted by the scourge of terrorism. In Demesetelis, we have taken drastic measures to root out terrorists. We have also worked to support our sister nations from these inhumans." The sultan nods at Noah and Prince Pierre. "If you thought what I would do to pirates was harsh just wait until you see me alone in a room with a terrorist. I have a special *winks* set of tools to get them to disclose their plots. If Kaarland needs any assistance with intelligence gathering from prisoners I have just the set of nephews in mind! Now, if these terroristic actions begin to spread, I would have everyone think hard about what they can do personally to help. This society can not sit idly!"

As the sultan takes his seat, you could cut the relief in the air with a knife. Just as another member was expected to stand, the sultan jumps from his seat once more.

"And Magaboo! If you think you can sit here, in a position you have no right having, and call for the removal of other member's representatives you are sorely mistaken. I think you should worry about the issues at home before they spill outside of your borders. If the next assembly is in relation to your problems, you will not find any support from the great peoples of Demesetelis!"

With that, the sultan was finally finished. Already thinking of the spa he had booked out for his nephews and himself, the sultan also began to plot his reactions to the assembly's final votes.

by **Halleon** » Mon Mar 08, 2021 4:49 pm

Assembly Hall

Thomas Buren could feel the tension coming from the rest of the Imperial Delegation that sat around him, while he found the flag burning stunt to be amusing, the rest of those assigned to represent the Imperium were not amused at all. Knowing it was time to drive the point home for those gathered and hoping that matters wouldn't drag out any further. Thomas with a deep sigh rose from his seat to give his closing arguments while the thought crossed his mind that what else would happen at this meeting?

"Esteemed delegates of the Commonwealth Society, during the short recess that we found ourselves in, I was able to communicate directly with the Emperor and he has instructed me to state the following. The Imperium of Halleon reaffirms its belief that every sovereign power that is a member of the Commonwealth Society should be held accountable and responsible for the actions taken place in their sovereign territories on both land and sea, which in this matter at hand involves the piracy taking place in and around Cimmeria which is a recognized territory of the Hellenic League of Kaarland. The international community shouldn't be forced to take the responsibility of providing law and order to either sovereign land or waters that belong to any sovereign power gathered here today." Pausing for a few moments before continuing to speak.

"Under normal circumstances, the Imperium of Halleon wouldn't involve itself in the matters of another power but due to these circumstances involving international waters being restricted of movement and trade. I am compelled once again to propose that the Krepost Pact be given one week before the TEZ is shrunk from covering international waters to only covering the recognized sovereign waters around Cimmeria, which is considered to be 12 nautical miles of the sea around the island." Pausing again for a few moments before he started to speak again in the hopes that his words would have some impact.

"The Emperor wishes for me to state that the Imperium of Halleon has dispatched elements of the third and fourth fleets which is known as the Axium Naval Task Force to the Delph Sea, where they will operate in international waters to ensure that freedom of movement and trade can be guaranteed in the Delph Sea to the international community. We have no intention of challenging the Krepost Pact or interfering in their operations to liberate Cimmeria."

Pausing for the third time for a few seconds, Thomas Buren finished his statement strong by stating ,"The Imperium of Halleon again has to state its desire that in one weeks time that the TEZ only encircle 12 nautical miles of the sea around Cimmeria. For the time being the Imperium of Halleon and the fleet dispatched to the Delph Sea, will respect the TEZ in its current form."

Thomas Buren returned to his seat and wondered how much longer the dramatic stunts from the other delegates would drag the meeting out.

by **Saint-Auguste** » Tue Mar 09, 2021 11:11 am

Assembly Hall
The Commonwealth Society
Ida, Britcan

Prince Pierre was silently amused by the events that had unfolded during and after the Batavian delegate made his statement, including the flag burning. He knew he had to remain professional yet couldn't help but laugh in his head. "The man has balls" he thought to himself. Once everyone had re-entered the chamber, Pierre listened to the 30-minute listing of the Sultan of Demesetelis' nephews and was daydreaming about how much profit he could make if each of them bought a Saint-Augustine yacht, or perhaps how much money they would spend at the Anse La Raye Grand Casino. After the Sultan's passionate speech, Pierre thought it best he replied to the Kherkovian delegate to clear up a few matters they had mentioned.

"Ladies and gentlemen, colleagues and friends from across the Commonwealth, I most welcome the proposal by Kherkov to reduce the TEZ, of course I hope this would not disrupt their peacekeeping efforts in the region. On the topic of peacekeeping, my Kherkovian counterpart mentioned again the concept of 'Commonwealth Peacekeepers', which doesn't sound too different to how Kherkov has acted in this crisis, as international peacekeepers. I have no such ambitions, or desire, to form any kind of international peacekeeping commission. This commission is about security of maritime trade. In response to your private fleet comment, I already have my own private fleet good sir, of yachts, and that's the only fleet I'm interested in. I can't imagine for a moment that at any given time that all the ships that would be involved in the commission would ever have to all be in the same place. It would take a very large group of pirates with modern battleships before the commission would have to rally all of our volunteers together, which is a laughable scenario.

I am very happy to hear the other nations present that have shown their support for the new commission, and I must stress once again that all here consider their economic well-being when voting. I second the Batavian delegate's comment regarding implementing measures such that the commission could never be abused. I welcome the idea of having a more collaborative approach to how this particular commission would be run and monitored. I welcome Kherkov themselves to be a part of it and to see for themselves the good work that the commission would be able to do, without infringing on any nation's sovereignty, nor seeing itself become an international policing unit, which are rightly two things that must be regularly monitored. For the good of all of us, I hope you all decide to crack down on piracy, and allow our shipping lanes to run smoothly, thank you."

Pierre sat down, with a smile on his face, secretly still laughing at his own comment regarding his private fleet of yachts, and he was happy that after the vote he would be able to go home and take his yacht for a spin.

by **Viperia** » Wed Mar 10, 2021 12:42 pm

Asssembly Hall
The Commonwealth Society
Ida, Britcan

Re-entering the hall, still sopping wet, the Viperian delegate of the Assembly took the Kaarite delegate's request for closing statements as his cue to finally speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you would allow me to return this session to the matters at hand and put earlier antics behind us. I have listened to the honourable delegates from a number of nations, from all over the Commonwealth Society, respond in their own ways to this, the Cimmerian crisis. As has been said many times already, I express my deepest condolences to the Kaarite delegate, those caught up in the fighting on Cimmeria and Kaarland itself. It warms my heart and fills me with hope for this organisation to see such an outpouring of support from all who have gathered here today.

Please know that we, and our allies in the Krepost Alliance, are doing all we can to contain and resolve this situation as quickly and with as little disruption to the international community as possible. I accept and understand, however, the international response to the establishment of the Krepost TEZ and, as my esteemed Kherkovian colleague has explained, we will adjust its measures accordingly.

I am overjoyed, too, to see that the members of this community are not only committed to resolving this situation, but seek change to ensure similar situations may not happen again in the future. While I welcome the Commission for Maritime Security and anti-piracy, proposed by Batavie and Saint-Auguste, I cannot help but take issue with some of the specifics. The power of the Head of the Commission to decide the commander of any commission fleet is, in my eyes, a potentially abusable one. The people of my nation know all too well the problems too much power in too few hands can cause. I would propose, instead, that some council or committee composed of the participating and contributing nations decide the nation from which any task-force's commander is chosen, and that this position has a maximum term length. If these or similar changes were to be made, I see no reason why Viperia would not support the Commission for Maritime Security and anti-piracy.

I sincerely hope that we are able to resolve the matters raised today. If we, the Commonwealth Society, are able to come together, as we have before, I have no doubt that we will. Thank you, all, for your time"

by **Kherkov** » Thu Mar 11, 2021 11:29 am

Forward Operating Base Ordnung
11th Army, Imperial Expeditionary Force
North-western Kemaria, Kaarland

Generaloberst Count Albert von Tormarck looked out over the camp, surveying the troops. The last transport ships were offloading the remaining few divisions in the distance, troops marching toward the camp, vehicles speeding toward the northern gates. A large open parade square sported a tall flagpole in the middle, the Kherkovian flag proudly flying above the FOB. Smaller flags could also be seen flying above the corner watchtowers, as well as by each entrance of the base. Troops marched around the parade square constantly – keeping drill and discipline was of paramount importance to Kherkovian officers. A large fitness area was present for troops to exercise when off-duty, as well as a makeshift pub. Himmelfaust helicopters patrolled the skies around the base, with orders to attack any armed forces advancing on the FOB. Troops continued to fortify and develop the base, strengthening the walls, putting up more tents, and ferrying supplies around. Von Tormarck spotted a group of officers walking toward his headquarters building. Turning around and heading down the stairs, he greeted the men as they entered the building, and motioned them towards a separate room.

The planning room was simple and efficient: equipped with folding chairs, tables, and other collapsible furniture. The centre table, surrounded by a number of chairs that the officers now sat on, had on it a large screen displaying a map of Kemaria, with symbols representing the different ground divisions of the Imperial Expeditionary force and Volksreichsmarine naval assets dotted around the island. The officers were all dressed in their No.4 service dress uniforms, a step down from ceremonial uniform but still far more formal than normal combat dress. While high-ranking officers such as these did have combat dress uniforms, as they would not be seeing frontline combat, these were hardly ever worn. Placing their peaked caps down and lighting cigarettes, the officers turned to look at Von Tormarck to speak.

“Welcome, comrades. I trust you have all studied the briefings I sent you yesterday afternoon?” As the officers around the table nodded and murmured in confirmation, Von Tormarck continued. “Good. As such, I shall begin with a brief summary. Generalmajor Lord von Mardendorff shall spearhead the offensive toward Atmoni with the 4th Guards Panzer division, flanked and supported by the 11th and 12th Panzergrenadier divisions. The 2nd Fallschirmjäger will attempt to encircle the town and stop as many rebels retreating as possible. The 1st Panzergrenadier will punch through any rebel defences east of Atmoni to allow the Fallschirmjäger Division to begin their encirclement. After this they will push south-east to disallow any rebel reinforcements from Arrechi or Kemaria City after the attack has begun. I shall open the floor to discussion.”

* * * * *

After a lengthy discussion, with the officers editing the on-screen map using the touchscreen changing minor details, the plan was finalised. A copy of the finished plan was sent to the General Staff back in Gratberg, as well as the Colonels leading the regiments into battle. With the discussion over, the men stood up, taking their caps up and placing them on their heads. Drawing their swords in unison, they raised them to the ceiling. Clashing the ends of the sabres together over the centre of the table, they gave a rallying cry: “Land und blut!”

As the officers left, they separated to go and prepare their divisions for the movement southward to Atmoni. Soon the Kherkovian war machine would bring down its might upon the Cimmerian Liberation Front.

Assembly Hall
The Commonwealth Society Building
Ida, Britcan

Franz-Ackermann sat wide-eyed as the Batavian Representative set the Maguban flag alight, as junior aides rushed to shield him from the sprinklers raining down upon the room. While he certainly found the antics quite amusing, Franz-Ackermann could not help but shake his head at the stunt. Such actions had their place in domestic politics, but it was rather uncouth to do so in a diplomatic forum. Franz-Ackermann could only hope that the majority of the Batavian Government had some semblance of diplomatic maturity, unlike the Sultan, who seemed to ramble on without end.

As the Viperian Representative sat down, Franz-Ackermann nodded towards him in thanks for his support as the Kherkovian rose to give his closing statements.

“Mr. Chair, most honourable Representatives, I would like to thank all here for their comments and input into the crisis that faces our nations. I will keep my closing comments brief and to the point.

“To the honourable Representative for Batavie, I would like to provide assurance that we have indeed considered Article G clause C. But it does not go far enough in limiting the power of the Commissioner or providing oversight. The fact remains that, as the proposal stands, the Commissioner has the sole power to appoint the overall commander of any task force. Kherkov welcomes the proposals made by the Viperian Representative on this matter. I am sure that our two nations would be more than willing to discuss our ideas with the Batavian Representative before the vote takes place.

“To the honourable Representative for Saint-Auguste, I would like to remind him that Kherkovian forces have both the blessing of Kaarland and prior diplomatic relationship to intervene in Kemaria, as well as the issue affecting the Krepost Pact far more directly than others. We are sovereign nations dealing with our own crisis. We are not an armed force of an international organisation that was designed to act as a neutral diplomatic forum. I must also ask the Prince to consider Kherkov’s views as concerns over the power of the position of Commissioner, not a personal attack on the Prince, or the nation of Saint-Auguste. Ultimately, it is irrelevant what the Prince’s intentions are with the new Commission – indeed, I am sure they are passive, if the honourable Representative is only interested in his yachts. Kherkov is simply concerned about the new power this Commission would grant the office of Commissioner, granting powers that could potentially be abused in future.

“And, leading on from this, I turn to the honourable Representative for Halleon. While the Krepost Pact will indeed promise before all nations gathered here today to reduce the TEZ in a week’s time, I cannot help but dispute the legal authority of any such orders being imposed by this Assembly, as they would offend the core principles of the Charter. And, given your comments on sovereignty, Kherkov asks you to join us in calling for greater scrutiny of the newly proposed Commission. It is pleasing to hear another nation speaking in favour of sovereign nations solving their own problems. Kherkov would also like to thank the Halleonian Government for its cooperation on the TEZ. This will serve to enhance operational effectiveness, and ensure that loss of innocent life is reduced. Kherkov welcomes further cooperation with Halleon for the good of all our nations.

“I would like to finish by stating that Kherkov does not wish to vehemently oppose the proposal for an Anti-Piracy Commission, and I reaffirm our belief that the most honourable Saint-Augustine and Batavian Representatives surely have honourable intentions behind this proposal. Kherkov is simply calling for more oversight to ensure that this organisation does not morph into something none of our nations signed up to. And, with the agreement of my fellow Krepost Representatives, we pledge to reduce the TEZ around Kemaria to encompass only 12 nautical miles around the island’s coasts a week from the end of this Session. Mr. Chair, honourable Representatives, thank you.”

by **Batavie** » Thu Mar 11, 2021 5:44 pm

Assembly Hall
The Commonwealth Society Building
Ida, Britcan

After the daring stunt, Noah sat with a satisfied grin as no delegates besides the Magubuans condemned his actions or even recognised that his spectacle was not befitting of a diplomatic forum with most not even mentioning it at all. He mostly ignored the speeches of the delegates relying on his aides to get him up to speed the moment he was done reading the national media reactions to his flag-burning. The state broadcaster NOS was relatively positive, as they were legally required to be neutral no one outright supported his actions but it was clear most agreed with his anti-Magubuan sentiment. Most private news companies and those on social media outright supported his actions. Some such as the Marxist United Front Party with Swanziist Characteristics’ ‘Waarheid’ (truth) newspaper denounced his actions as ‘racist’. Those denouncing him were, however, small in number.
Noah’s plans seemed to be taking shape with his first political manoeuvre successfully gaining positive national attention propelling him into fame within Batavia and even the commonwealth. He had heard rumours that Wilhelmina planned on holding the nation’s first prime ministerial elections rather than appoint him herself and was making sure that not only did the Batavian establishment support him in the case the next prime-minister will still be appointed but also the Batavian people should it truly be an election. Although he personally was against an election he couldn’t help but be excited to take part in one. He had big plans for the country and himself.

He then asked his aides to quickly get him up to speed with what the other delegates had been saying. After having heard a quick summary of all the contributions thus far he believed it was time for his closing statements on the matter.

“Honourable chair, dear fellow delegates,

We profoundly apologise for getting all of you wet, I thought the fire of the flag would be small enough not to trigger the sprinklers. To speak to Viperia and Kherkov, although our government tends to disapprove of socialists in this case they speak constructively which we appreciate. We’re glad to hear that both nations have thought on how to improve the commission and we’re excited to engage in robust conversations with their delegations on the matter.

We agree with the Krepost nations on the matter of the TEZ, with their promise to decrease the size of the zone in 1 week to a perfectly reasonable 12 nautical miles we see no reason for this assembly to adopt a resolution on the matter. We appreciate their nations’ commitments to international peace.

Furthermore, we want to once again state Batavia’s support for Demesetelis. We listened with great joy to your speech most honourable Grand Ole Sultan. I assure you Queen Wilhelmina would have been here if she could, but unfortunately, some domestic issues took precedence for her personally to travel down here. A problem which we’re sure you understand. We want to use this podium here now to, as we do often, endorse Demesetelis for their friendship and support. Demesetelis has by far been our most important and oldest friend. On a personal note, if the Grand Ole Sultan is interested I invite him to drink whisky cokes with me after this summit to celebrate our nation’s shared history and friendship. I fully expect all the nephews to be there as I want to meet them all.

Lastly, we want to urge all honourable delegates in this assembly to vote in favour of the Commission for Maritime Security and Anti-Piracy regardless of which amendments are added into the final version.
Ceterum censeo Magubuem esse delendam.”

A bedroom
Korte Nieuwstraat 6
Nimwegen, Batavia

”Now that everyone has drinks I officially declare this weekly conference of the Marxist United Front Party with Swanziist Characteristics party committee opened. Who wishes to speak first?”

A young man wearing a barret smoking a cigar raised his hand, his name was ‘Ernst Geveren’ nicknamed ‘Broer’ (brother) and he was by far the most radical member of the party.

”I think, we, as communists, have but one goal in this capitalist society. To overthrow it by any means necessary and to oppose, in all ways available to us, those that wish to oppose the natural state of our socialist utopia. All the capitalist fat cats who live in Willem stad, those that rule Batavia, are our and the public’s enemy number one. Specifically, those who would abuse racial sentiment to further divide the working class. Solely through a united struggle may we establish our ‘sozialistische Weltrepublik’. Should we not choose to oppose those elements in society that undermine our efforts, should we act indifferent to them, we are silently complicit in their racist and predatory actions. Staying silent and not taking actions would make us no less worth contempt than the ignorant rabble on the street and arguably makes us worse than those who do the stealing from our working class. I propose we finally take radical action.”

by **Kaarland** » Fri Mar 12, 2021 4:08 am

The Commonwealth Society Assembly - Ida, Britcan

Sophos stood to the podium.

“Our session has come to an end. I thank you all for your invaluable deliberations and contributions. There will now be a short recess before a vote is taken on the motion from Batavie and Saint Auguste, of whether to establish new Commission for Maritime Security and Anti-Piracy”.

The clerks of the assembly worked to prepare the voting procedures, leaving delegates time for last minute off the table negotiations before the vote.

by **Kaarland** » Mon Mar 15, 2021 10:00 am

The Commonwealth Society Assembly - Ida, Britcan

Sophos stood to the podium a final time.

“For the motion to establish a new Commission for Maritime Security and Anti-Piracy, sponsored by the nations of Batavie and Saint-Auguste, the votes are as follows.”

“The aye’s are nine, the no’s are 2. The aye’s 9, the no’s 2. So, the aye’s have it, the aye’s have it.”

“Abstentions counted to 6.”

“Official figures, including specific nation’s votes are recorded on the publicly accessible assembly services.”

“This session is hereby closed.”

Sophos was relatively pleased with the course the session had taken, and the resulting enactment of a sensible commission he thought; but he now had to prepare himself for his private talks with the Kherkovian delegate Franz-Ackermann.

by **Kherkov** » Tue Mar 16, 2021 10:12 am

Northern outskirts of Atmoni
11th Army, Imperial Expeditionary Force
North-western Kemaria, Kaarland

Oberst Heinrich Tyrenbach, Imperial Knight, looked out from his command vehicle at his advancing tanks in the distance. Commander of the 1st Guards Panzer Brigade, it was his unit that was spearheading the advance toward Atmoni, an extremely important task. The man was no stranger to war. He had begun his career as a lowly tanker, fighting Osterling states in the Unification Wars – his loyalty, gallantry, and competence earning him a place in the Kherkovian Gardekorps, the most fanatic, zealous, and disciplined section of the Kherkovian Army, save for special forces units.

In the distance, Atmoni burned, with naval bombardments from the Kemarian fleet and artillery bombardments from PzH98s back at the FOB heavily damaging the town. Forward intelligence had reported that the CLF had conducted a mass evacuation of Atmoni, moving civilians out of the line of fire, and so the Generaloberst had given the all-clear for a mass bombardment. It was imperative that the IEF took this town quickly. Tyrenbach was a commander renowned for his tenacity, having studied the Prukovian blitzkrieg in the Great Patriotic War extensively at the Imperial Academy in Gratberg, publishing numerous theses on the tactic. He was personally responsible for a number of daring breakthrough actions against Osterling forces in the Unification Wars, earning him numerous medals for fearlessness in combat and devotion to the Kaiser.

Hoping to apply the same tactics here, he ordered his Brigade to begin firing as soon as they were in range, supplementing the shelling from the Navy and artillery. The plan was to overwhelm the mostly civilian militia of the CLF with intense speed and firepower, in order to break morale and sow confusion. As the Guards Panzer brigades approached the northern outskirts of the town, opening fire as they went, the mechanised infantry units began their speedy approach to the town. With the tanks securing the perimeter, and the rebels hopefully softened up from naval, artillery, and tank bombardments, the infantry disembarked to fight through the rubble and remaining buildings, with plans to use their mobility to hunt down any remaining hiding rebels. The Generaloberst was keen to drain the rebel manpower pool as much and as quickly as possible. Infantry vehicles provided covering fire, using their large machine guns to suppress enemy positions.

by **Saint-Auguste** » Thu Mar 18, 2021 2:16 pm

Beauharnais Palace, Beauharnais Island
Les Trois-Îlets, Saint-Auguste

It was a completely normal day. Prince Eugène watched the beginning of the new F1 season on TV in his palace with his wife. His three children, Princess Stephanié, Prince Pierre, and Prince Dominic, with their partners and Eugène's two grandchildren, all came over for dinner in the late-afternoon. Pierre had returned from Britcan after the emergency session to begin work on the new commission. Before sitting down to eat, Prince Eugène began coughing hysterically and collapsed. His whole family rushed to his aid, the children were screaming and crying. He was immediately taken to the Royal Hospital of Versailles via his private helicopter.

Hôpital Royal de Versailles,
Les Trois-Îlets, Saint-Auguste

After further scans and treatment from the hospital, it was revealed that Prince Eugène had lung cancer. It was no mystery that the Prince was a heavy smoker, an addiction shared by many in Saint-Auguste. Tears fell. His wife Grace, daughter Stephanié, and sons Pierre and Dominic were all completely devastated. Hours had passed, news had reached the press of the diagnosis. The Prince had woken up from a long sleep, he asked to speak to Princess Stephanié alone.

"Steph, my beautiful daughter, my time is coming to an end, and I need you to continue my work, our family's work, to rule our great nation. I want you to know that I'm proud of you and that I'm certain you will be a wonderful leader. Your brothers will support you in any way they can, but it's you who must lead this nation now. All of my duties will now be yours." Said the Prince, breathless and clearly struggling to talk.

Tears streamed down Stephanié's face. She had always known one day this would happen, but never truly realised the reality of not having her father. "Dad don't say things like that, you're going to be okay, you will get the best treatment and will be able to fight this!" She said, in denial.

"Stephanié, I'm old, I'm tired, regardless of if I survive this, it's time for me to end my reign. I'm so lucky that my daughter will be the first Princess on the throne, and I'm so happy that you are the person who you are, you are the best person to rule this nation and to take us into the next generation. I believe in your vision." A single tear rolled down the Prince's face.

Stephanié could do nothing but hug her father and cry. All but Eugène's wife then left the hospital, Grace could not be apart from him. It was only a matter of time before the world discovers that Princess Stephanié will soon become the reigning monarch of Saint-Auguste. Who knows what direction she would lead the nation?

by **Britcan** » Thu Mar 18, 2021 4:23 pm

Conservative Party Headquarters
Lontwa, Britcan

"I shall therefore be asking Parliament to support this motion and express their loss of confidence in the Prime Minister." Abbott looked directly into the camera as he made his speech. It had been carefully written and rewritten to frame the debate as about confidence in Rooke rather than in Abbott. Both the Liberals and the Agrarians had already pinned their anti-Rooke colours to the mast. If the Conservatives could set the narrative for the vote as a simple vote on Rooke then the Liberals and Agrarians would have little choice but to back Abbott. Neither wished to be the deciding vote that kept Rooke in office after publicly opposing his premiership.

The rest of the Conservative Caucus had enthusiastically supported Abbott when he'd suggested bringing the vote. After 19 years of SDP-led governments they were hungry for a win and with their polling looking mediocre a few months out from the election they were willing to make a bold move. Thus the key to victory was the Moderate Party. If Abbott got them on side then neither the Liberals or Agrarians would dare to be the deciding vote keeping Rooke in office.

Abbott had conversed with Sir John Clarke, the Moderate Party's leader last night. He'd evidently perceived some slight from Rooke, something about Cimmeria Abbott surmised, and was thus willing to entertain the prospect. Their discussion had ultimately come to the issue of a new nominee for Chair of the Commonwealth Assembly. Clarke had initially floated Heller and Kelly, clearly after a Chair who’d be hawkish on Kherkov and worried that Rooke would nominate someone politically beneficial rather than an experienced hand. Abbott had turned down both names, Heller lacked the diplomatic experience and Kelly was too valuable as a committee Chair. He’d instead floated Terrance Denton, the acting Chair. He wasn’t especially hawkish but was an experienced hand who had done admirably in the recent session. After some grumbling Clarke had reluctantly agreed, more out of a desire to stop an inferior nominee from the Prime Minister than any enthusiasm.

With the Moderates on side, Abbott knew it was time to strike.

Britcani First Fleet
Five miles outside the TEZ, Delph Sea

A digital clock on the bridge counted down the seconds until Kherkov officially relinquished their expansive TEZ claim - one week from the Commonwealth Assembly meeting. Britcan did not formally recognise the TEZ in international waters, but there was no desire to cause unnecessary provocation by entering it. Once the timer hit zero they would move to the edge of Kaarland's territorial waters, but for now their orders were to maintain position just outside the TEZ to monitor the situation as best as possible.

Britcani Naval intelligence had picked up movements of Halleonian forces in the area and had been monitoring them closely. The fleet, however, made no attempt to move towards them. Keeping a respectful distance was good practice if you didn’t want to accidentally start a war.

by **Demesetelis** » Thu Mar 18, 2021 9:36 pm

Penthouse Boardroom, 189th floor of The CM Tower
Camel Rider City, Demesetelis

Sat atop the CM Tower lies an opulently furnished boardroom. Gilded mahogany accents, a 360 degree view of Camel Rider City, with solid gold Ocelots leaping from the sparkling chandelier, this room perfectly matched the wealth of the men who sat in its chairs. Today, however, steel shutters seal the windows, blocking out any sunlight (and any potential prying eyes. Even sat atop the city, The Committee can not take any chances). Past the locked oak doors, down a long marble hallway, stood four men with automatic rifles trained on the elevator doors. The Committee meeting under such secretive conditions is made up of eleven men, ranging in age from 63 all the way to 104. Ten of the sultan's twelve uncles make up The Committee, with his great uncle rounding out the table. Sat to the right of each man is their chosen Representative. The Representatives of The Committee must be a child of a Committee member, with each typically choosing their eldest. Each representative is there to assist their member in whatever needs they may have. Sat at the head of the table was the 104 year old Amir Demesetelis Sr. Silver wolfs-head cane at his side, and with a full head of jet black hair (the family has gossiped about him dying his hair, but to this date no evidence of that has been found), Amir sat silently as the members argued over how to best respond to the Kherkovian incident. As the oldest member of the Demesetelis family, Amir held the title of Grand Protector. Youngest brother of Ayan Demesetelis, the founder of the nation, Amir's position put him in charge of all matters pertaining to the Demesetelis family. Acting as a mediator, confidant, and all around wisdom giver, Amir's respect within the family was unmatched. Even the Sultan usually takes his advice when it is given. That respect was shown when he silenced the room of bickering men by simply raising his hand.

"I will not hear one more word about this petty Kherkovian conflict, we have too much going on at home to waste our efforts on it. Caane will handle things fine."

He pressed a button on the glass table, and a screen rose from a slot in the floor. Pressing another button brought up a sloping downward graph.

"The family's approval ratings have fallen 6% over the last quarter. 6%!" His voice rising as he speaks. "Unless you have forgotten, we do not have the luxury of a divine right that some of our neighbors enjoy. Our power rests in the people's opinion of us."

"Uncle" Spoke Badier, head of the Demesetelian National bank (and secret head of 74% of the rest of Demesetelis' banks), "The family controls all aspects of Demesetelis. The people do not dictate our actions, we control them!"

"I have seen greater nations fall into disarray once they have lost the respect of the people" Amir quickly retorted. "and what happens once the nation is in chaos and the people are rioting in the streets? Power shifts. I am sure you all know what happens after the power shifts! Do you want to be hung in front of this tower Badier? Or perhaps sent into the desert naked tied to the back of a camel?"

Badier is silent, staring intently at his left thumbnail.

"No, you do not. So let us continue. We must work to improve our image, that is for certain. Cyrus, could you do that internet thing? It worked out so well last year. If you can bring those ratings up to beat our Q2 projections, I have a beach house in Cayene with your name on it."

At the mention of his name, Cyrus looked up from his tablet. The son of Bahi(who ran all of Demesetelian media), Cyrus was young for a Representative, only celebrating his 23rd birthday last month. He replied to his great uncle with a smile.

"Of course, uncle! I could have your projections doubled if uncle Babar increased the internet connection to my servers by 30 Gbps."

"I hope you know what he means Babar, can you make it happen?" Replies Amir.

Babar, head of Demesetelian communications, nods his head.

"It is settled then, go on Cyrus, get on it."

Cyrus stands from his seat and walks to the door, the microchip in his hand disengaging the lock, disabling the automated security, and calling the elevator to the penthouse floor.

"Alright" Amir presses another button and a rapidly increasing graph is shown on screen. "Badier, our Q1 income is looking great, what do you have planned to continue this upward trajectory?"

With that, Badier launches into a speech about stock market projections and interest rates. Ever since 1984 The Committee has been rapidly acquiring secret holdings in private companies across Demesetelis. The Demesetelian market has always been free, but prior to 1984 the government was satisfied with its tax income and generous kickbacks. After the market crash of 83' Caane's father, Bakur Demesetelis, enacted changes that allowed the Demesetelian family to work together with the top business owners(those who were not already in the family) to purchase stock in their company that was not reflected in the Demesetelian stock market. In exchange for political power, government favor, and the assurance of state assistance if the companies fell on hard times, these company owners allow the Demesetelian family accountants to alter their books to hide this funneling of wealth. The civilian shareholders are none the wiser to the potential dividends they are missing out on, and this policy has caused the Demesetelian family to rapidly gain wealth in the following years, also giving them increasing power over the 'free' market. This lets the family exert the same power over the nation as a dictatorship, while allowing the people to feel as they have some freedoms. Once Badier finished speaking, The Committee was served lunch, after which discussions resumed on topics ranging from loosening immigration laws to increasing military spending.

That Internet Thing
Sub-Level B3, CM Tower
Camel Rider City, Demesetelis

Cyrus sat in front of 12 monitors, all but 3 currently offline. Those three continuously scrolled with data gathered from various social media sites, all being stored on the humming servers below. His office was a glass cube sat atop a vast room of servers, about half of which are currently offline. The entire floor is cooled to a chilly 18c to assist the servers, accounting for the puffy coats worn by the desert-acclimated staff. As he is typing away, preparing for his tasks, Cyrus receives a ping from Babar's Representative. The server room's internet connection has been set to it's full potential, and with that Cyrus awakens The Beast. Typing furiously, each monitor pops on one by one. The dormant servers awaken, and the electrical hum rises to where it can be felt in your chest. Lights in the eight city blocks adjacent to the tower temporarily dim due to the massive power draw. After another ten minutes of typing, the servers are working at their full potential. Millions of packets are sent out per second, and all of Camel Rider City will be experiencing inexplicable internet slowdowns for the rest of the week. The Beast is what Cyrus calls his set of over 3000 programs, all working to promote the nation's interest and improve public image of the family. Some use their root access to Demesetelian communications to post pre-written pro Demesetelian propaganda across all domestic news sites. Others troll internet forums and post thousands of comments and posts. While The Beast only has power to alter what is written for Demesetelian traditional media, no social media site in the world is safe from it's vast network of bots, subtly working to shift public opinion. Throughout Demesetelian social media sites, including the vastly popular(and typically liberal, due to its illusion of privacy) OceChat, certain comments that are overtly negative to Demesetelian interests are shadow deleted and their authors placed on a list. Cyrus and his team have been working on this project for years now, tweaking the formula to just straddle the line to make their posts, comments, and news articles fool the population into further supporting the family without showing their true propaganda nature. Some of The Beast's work, like the pushing of pro-Demesetelian articles onto newspaper editors is currently done manually. Other aspects were ideas of Cyrus, such as the subtle infiltration of social media by fake users' comments and posts. He hopes that The Beast's improved success will convince his uncles to devote the resources necessary to run The Beast to its full potential at all times. With The Beast up and running at full power it needs little input, only requiring occasional altering of its directives. Its pre-written newspaper articles and television scripts are constantly provided automatically via the Department of Communication. Cyrus will stay in his office for the rest of the week to observe his work, sleeping on his pull-out sofa and having food delivered from his choice of the many 5-Star restaurants that call the tower home.

by **Kaarland** » Fri Mar 19, 2021 4:06 pm

Atmoni – Cimmer, Cimmeria

Upon his arrival at the town, General Abbas surveyed the troops, the equipment, and the defences in place. He also talked first hand with the few witnesses of the beech invasion who had managed to escape.

His assessment was forlorn, although he kept that to himself. He held himself with bravado and delivered speeches to rebel fighters across the town, speaking of courage, tenacity, and victory. But he knew himself that none of the faces he saw would live to see another month; or less, depending on when the Kherkovian troops make their advance. He had heard nothing from his scouts sent north of the town, fearing they were eliminated.

Although the General knew there was nothing to be done to keep hold of the town, a victory could be sought in slowing the enemy advance. If they could hold out, and provide a gritty defence for as long as possible, if they could shed as much Kherkovian blood and resources as possible, if they could let the Kherkov soldiers, and their commanders, know that every inch of this island will be hard-fought, then maybe the rebellion has a chance. Not here in Atmoni, but for the rebels elsewhere.

And so, he began his defences of the town. Civilians were evacuated for their safety, and to clear space. Basements, underground parking, and the military barracks bunkers were identified for the expected aerial bombardment. Barricades were set up to confuse enemy forces, leading them down dead ends, funnelling them through close streets, perfect for ambushes. MG nests were positioned at the ends of streets which were expecting high traffic of fighting. Snipers were positioned across the town, ordered to lay dormant until the enemy had passed by to cause confusion to the enemy of where the rebels where firing from. Finally, expecting much of the town to fall, booby traps were set across the town, IEDs were placed in cars, and at the entrances to indiscriminate buildings to cause as much damage they could to the invaders.

Satisfied, Abbas retired to his quarters and awaited the drums of battle.

* * * * * *

The drums of battle arrived with the crashing blows of ordinance bombardment of the town. Confusion and panic began to rise, but the rebel commanders rallied their men to the underground defences. Most were saved, but a good amount died in the initial blows of fighting.

The bombardment continued for some time, with no break. And still the rebels remained hidden and protected underground, save for the unlucky ones whose shelters received direct hits. Word reached the General of advancing infantrymen, and so the order was given to assume their positions. MG nests were manned, snipers hid at their locations, small units were assigned to ambush dead end streets, and the main force prepared for the advancing army to be funnelled down the main streets.

The General himself was set just back from the main contingent of rebels. Stood with his command, he prepared himself for death, but promised his gods he would take as many men as he could with him.

The Senate House - Athiteia, Kaarland

Inside the cool marble chamber the members of the Senate had been discussing the matters of the state, and in particular, the unfolding crisis in Cimmeria.

The senators were informed of the developments at the Commonwealth Assembly, and of the blockade.

A soldier suddenly burst through the doors, all eyes turned to the man whose epaulette identified him as a member of military intelligence. He went straight to Aeolus' side and relayed a message privately to him.

Aeolus then turned to the room.

"We have news of the Archon, information our intelligence has just now corroborated. Contact has been made with a small group of loyalist paramilitaries, who claim to have the Archon and his family under their protection. They've held refuge in a farm compound, just south of the town of Nisa. I believe if we act fast, we can extract them safely to our fleet anchored off shore.”

The stunned silence was broken by Eris, a senator of Laerta, “Are you sure of the validity of this information?” he questioned the councillor.

“As sure as we can be” replied Aeolus.

“Then we must proceed with haste, and send who we can”, said the senator.

“Who we can send may be the issue” interjected Aeolus, “for without unanimous support we cannot send our own soldiers, we will have to inform Kherkov of the situation”.

“Why of course there will be unanimous support”, said senator Zephyr of Argomon, “who could argue against the Archon and his family’s rescue” he said in his smarmy tone, his voice hanging like a thick sickly syrup in the air.

“Is this the same Zephyr that immobilised our armies, vetoed any military action?” interjected the senator of Ithiki.

“Brother, you hurt me with your unkind barbs. I wanted us to act with caution.”

Unconvinced by Zephyr’s words, but eager to dispatch forces to Cimmeria, Aeolus tabled a motion and held a vote. The vote was unanimous in favour of sending Kaarite forces to the island. The Strategos Strabo was called upon to plan and launch the operation, with immediate haste.

The council was adjourned, and Aeolus retired to his study, asking not to be disturbed as he refreshed himself in his literature. He picked up a heavy book, dusting off it’s face, and read the title ‘various works of the Roman statesman Marcus Tullius Cicero’. He opened its pages, and began to read:

“A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at the gates is less formidable, for he is known and carries his banner openly. But the traitor moves amongst those within the gate freely, his sly whispers rustling through all the alleys, heard in the very halls of government itself.”

* * * * * *

Away from the Archon's palace, and the grand columns of the Senate House, the senator from Argomon, Zephyr, sat in a dimly lit room, full with cigar smoke and the smell of whisky. Opposite sat his chief of staff, a tall and thin man, with a sickly pale complexion.

“How goes the business of the state” asked the tall man, referring to the council session held earlier.

“Insufferable. Aeolus is as pompous as ever. Seems he's appointed himself as the Archon in Alexanders absence. But there is interesting news for our friends in Cimmeria. Draft a letter for me, titled ‘from friends of democracy and the great liberation army’”.

by **Kherkov** » Mon Mar 22, 2021 9:05 am

Atmoni
11th Army, Imperial Expeditionary Force
North-western Kemaria, Kaarland

The cacophony of explosions, gunfire, and screams were enough to drive any normal man insane, but the soldiers of the Kherkovian 11th Army pressed on stony-faced through the town. Even as Atmoni burned around them, they fought on with vigour, driven by a combination of ingrained discipline, intense training, and nationalistic zeal. While the Kherkovian General Staff considered the rebels an untrained bunch of rabble compared to the proud and professional Kherkovian Volksreichsheer, by no means was it an easy fight. Most of the older officers had fought during the Unification Wars, and had seen guerrilla fighting and improvised weapons, and so knew what to expect to an extent. However, orders from above required the troops to take the town as quickly as possible, the officer class knowing full well that this – combined with a zealous younger generation of field officers - would likely lead to an increased loss of life. Nevertheless, the priority of taking Atmoni quickly was vital, not just for strategic reasons, but propaganda ones as well.

The traps laid for the Kherkovian troops were initially met with surprise due to the quick advance. IEDs shredded door-kickers, snipers took out troops from the rubble, and hidden machine-gun nests decimated whole squads as they were funnelled through the narrow streets. In response, rebel prisoners or bodies were thrown through doors to trigger any IEDs, suspected sniper positions were met with grenades and machine gun fire, and the APCs of the Panzergrenadier divisions were used as shields in the streets, their MG armaments fired in response to any rebel emplacements. Losses were fairly high, but mitigated through such improvised methods.

The discipline, brute force, tenacity, and sheer firepower of the Kherkovian 11th Army allowed them a bloody victory. Any captured rebels or those who surrendered were used to locate and destroy remaining IEDs, often against their will. The Fallschirmjäger were poised south of the town, ready to capture or eliminate as many fleeing rebels as possible. After the clean-up operation of the town was completed, only a handful of rebel prisoners remained, including the Strategos and some of his staff. As the rebel officers were taken back to the FOB for imprisonment, the remaining prisoners were executed in the streets by firing squads, Imperial Chaplains condemning them to eternal damnation. As each body slumped lifelessly to the floor, cheers and applause came from the gathered soldiers who had come to watch their revenge enacted on the enemy.

SRMS Wilhelm der Große
The Kemarian Fleet, Imperial Expeditionary Force
Seas off of Kemaria

Admiral Count von Korberg coordinated his efforts with the Viperian and Kaarite fleets to begin reducing the TEZ to the agreed upon size in the Commonwealth Assembly. With the capture of Atmoni, rebel naval activity had decreased significantly as they began to concentrate their forces on repelling the ground assault. Von Korberg had received reports of foreign fleets beginning to press the TEZ. While his orders were to continually broadcast advance warnings of the TEZ and avoid combat if at all possible, any incursion of the zone was to be met with the full force of the Volksreichsmarine.

by **Batavie** » Wed Mar 24, 2021 4:45 pm

Dark backroom
Taste of Deme
Ida, Britcan
5 Hours after the Commonwealth Society Assembly

“I fold”

“Ah haha can’t take the heat, can you? Noah?”

“I’ve already got enough heat to deal with back home after my little stunt at the assembly, but I know when to hold ‘em and I know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away and know when to run.”

“Did you see the look on the Magubu guys face? He was just standing there under the sprinkler, giving you the death stare.”

“The only thing I saw were the headlines on the news praising me to high heaven, I was personally surprised at how the other delegates just did not care about the stunt.”

“Yeah, it has me thinking about the next stunt I’m going to pull. I have found that making yourself memorable goes a long way towards getting what you want done.”
The Sultan turns to the waiter, standing by. “Bring us another round of whisky cokes, would ya?”

The waiter turns with a curt nod. Walking through the double doors of the back room, he weaves his way through the packed dining room to the bar. Tonight was a busy night for the Taste of Deme, one of the most popular Demesetelian restaurants in Britcan.

Batavian offices
The Commonwealth Society Assembly building
Ida, Britcan
3 hours after the Commonwealth Society Assembly

“Linda, make sure to communicate with Willem Stad about my drinks with the Grand Ole Sultan, I want Drees to know. Also, leak to the media where we’re going. I want there to be reporters outside ready to ask me questions when I am done playing with Caane.”

As Noah looks around to make sure he got all his items his phone buzzes with a text message. ‘Meet me in front. - Athena’. Noah walked outside, to where a woman passed a black briefcase into his hand seamlessly while walking across the street. It was obvious both had done this many times. The Demestelian delegation then rolled up in their state-owned party bus. “Hey Noah, get in the car man, we’ve got champagne and hella baddies!” said Aseed while hanging out of the window, bottle in hand drinking like his life depended on it. Noah opened the door and was welcomed by the smell of weed, alcohol, and pussy. With the sound of Katy Perry’s dark horse booming from the subwoofers as naked black ladies with the biggest breasts and largest asses he’d ever seen curl their legs around the stripper poles spaced around the bus. He stepped inside. His eyes look for the Grand Ole Sultan but with the pungent smells and a room filled with smoke, he was unable to find him and just sat down as the bus began to move. The moment his buttocks touched the cushions a lady dressed in a bikini sat on top of him. Noah noticed a bulge in the girl’s bikini bottoms and immediately stood back up and pushed the ladyboy off of him. “Kanker flikkers” he mumbled as he walked to the back of the bus where he found Caane with his signature whiskey coke spectating his family’s hedonistic behaviours.

“This must be quite the culture shock for a Batavian man such as yourself Noah.”

“You can say that again, I have to admit I’ve never had sex with anyone but my wife and I don’t intend to change that. But as far as drugs and alcohol are concerned I’ll allow myself some freedoms today. They’re more common then you’d think among the Batavian elite. Our drug of choice is cocaine, just to unbore the whole politics thing.”

“Cocaine? I love coke, but I prefer whiskey cokes. Speaking of those, Tanisha! Get me another whiskey coke will you? And take off that bra, we wanna see those big mommy milkers!”

When the bus arrived at the Taste of Deme, a place for the Demesetelian ex-pats and business travellers to eat, drink and feel at home, the whole entourage of the Grand Ole Sultan passed through the restaurant to a backroom. The group of tracksuit wearing nephews, breast showing black ladies, and to top it all off the Grand Ole Sultan himself walking next to the Batavian permanent delegate to the Commonwealth society caused all the people in the restaurant to look up, mainly because of the melange of smells reaching their noses, grabbing their attention. Claps could be heard throughout as the Demesetelian elite was proud to see their leader party.

Once arrived in the backroom Fakim Camélé, the nouveau riche man who owns the restaurant, welcomed the large group of people to his semi-legal but definitely shady gambling den. 4 midgets in full velcro body suits stood ready with a large velcro dartboard placed on the floor. Fakim knew about the nephews liking of dwarf-tossing and wished to get in the family’s good graces. The nephews were clearly excited and immediately dared one another who could throw midgets the farthest.

On the other side of the room, a Russian mobster and an old Chinese man with his translator were sat at a table with poker cards. Caane, Noah, Adeel and Adnan took their seats at the table. As the men got seated and ordered their whiskey cokes, Sultan’s treat, Fakim placed himself at the head of the table and started dealing the cards.

“The Ante is 50 thousand cash.”

“I can loan you the money if you need Noah.” Caane spoke

“No need to my friend.” Noah said as he whipped out the briefcase he’d been hauling since leaving the commonwealth assembly building. Opening it, he revealed 1 million pounar in 50 pounar bills. Visibly shocked, Caane said: “Alright then, let’s get this party started.”

Dark backroom
Taste of Deme
Ida, Britcan
5 Hours and 5 minutes after the Commonwealth Society Assembly

Tray loaded with drinks, the waiter returns to the backroom. As he passes through the double doors the sound of yelling and loud music intensifies. To his left are six of the sultan’s nephews, competing in a game of midget toss. Split into two teams, they hoist the midget up on their shoulders and toss him at a velcro target. Closest midget to the bullseye wins a point. As the waiter passes by, one of the nephews Ayaaan (Head of Transportation by Rocket) shoves his cousin, Arif (Grand Head of Illbeing) believing him to have cheated by whispering instructions in the midget’s ear. Arif stumbles back into the waiter, causing the entire tray of drinks to fall right into the sultan’s lap. Drenched in whisky coke, the sultan rises to his feet, an equally drenched woman crawls out from under the table as well, wiping her mouth. “Sorry about that, love. Go off and clean yourself up, I’ll require more of your… services... later.” All charm leaving his voice, the sultan turns toward the gaggle of nephews tossing dwarves.

“God fucking damnit Arif look what you have done.” The sultan looks at the waiter, who is visibly shaking at the thought of being on the sultan’s bad side. “So sorry for that, my nephews are ABSOLUTELY FUCKING INCOMPETENT” The sultan turns to stare a hole into the silent Arif. “Please, go grab us some more drinks” Turning back to the waiter, he slips a 100 pounar bill into the waiters pocket for the trouble. “Ali” (Head of Imaginary Defence) “drop that midget at once and bring me a change of robes.” Looking back to the poker table. “Please excuse me, gentlemen, I will be right back.

The sultan walks through the backroom to an even more backroom backroom. At the poker table, Adnan (Grand Head of the Treasury) took the lull in playing as a chance to count his winnings.

“You bastards are getting hosed!”

“Oh shut up Adnan” blurted out Adeel “Your father is a poker champion, of course, you have to tryhard and show everyone up.”

“Hey, we are just having fun here Adeel, it’s not my fault you never know when to fold, you should take some tips from Noah over here.” Adnan winks towards the Batavian delegate.
“Everything the light touches will be mine before the night is over!” he shouts, gesturing to the stacks of cash piled up on the table.

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” Replies Noah.

Soon after, the sultan returns to the table in fresh robes, the waiter enters with their drinks as he takes his seat.

“I’m afraid I must take my leave, I have a table reserved at the underground bar down the street.” Said Dimitri, the shady portly Russian.

“Of course, thank you for joining us Dimitri, we will discuss our business arrangement at another time.”
The sultan gestures towards the scantily clad women at each of his arms. “This is not the best environment to commit to plans in, I understand.”

After the Russian mobster collected his remaining cash and left the table, Noah called out to Caleb (The Sultan’s head of security) who had up until this point been posted at the door, hand in his jacket pocket.

“Caleb, please come join us! You look so serious, standing there as if terrorists were about to burst through the door at any minute, Britcan is safe! You can come live a little.”

“Well, I guess a few hands would not hurt.” Said Caleb, walking towards the open seat at the table.

As he reached his seat, a commotion was heard from the dining room, suddenly, two shots sounded from behind the backroom door. Before anyone had a chance to react, 4 armed men burst into the room.
“Death to tyrants!” Shouted the men in Arabic, aiming their weapons at the group. The sultan immediately took action, flipping the poker table and taking refuge behind it as the men began to open fire. In one fluid motion, the sultan pulled dual desert eagles from within his robes, and wildly shot over the edge of the poker table at the men, catching one in the temple with a .357 magnum round. Noah, crouched behind the serving cart to the left of the poker table, kicked at a table leg until it broke, awarding him a crude weapon to fight with. Taking advantage of a lull in the shooting, he charged at the men with his makeshift weapon, taking the closest gunman by surprise. He rammed his table leg deep into his jugular and blood sprayed across the room drenching the carpet and everyone’s clothes. Caane, after reloading his dual gold plated desert eagles, shot another gunman. As the final terrorist struggled to put a new clip in his rifle, Caleb, having been shot in the leg, pushed himself up with all his power and pistol-whipped the man, knocking him out cold.

As a deafening silence filled the room, Noah turned to look towards the nephews, who were currently cowering behind the midgets.

“Goddamn MORONS! YOU HAVE FUCKING GUNS AND YOU CAN’T EVEN PULL THEM OUT? I STABBED THIS MOTHERFUCKER WITH A TABLE LEG AND YOUR DUMB ASSES CAN’T EVEN HIDE WELL!” Noah begins to pace. “YOUR STUPID ASS BRAINS THOUGHT HIDING BEHIND A MIDGET WOULD COVER YOU! YOU MONGOLOIDS AREN’T JUST COWARDLY, YOU ALL ARE FUCKING IDIOTS TOO!!!!!”

Caane places his hand on Noah’s shoulder, stopping the pacing.
“Number one, let’s all chill the fuck out. Number two he’s right you fucks what use are you if you can’t even protect us from some two-bit terrorists? Number three…..”
Caane pauses, deep in thought. (whispering) “What was number three?”
The groans of the terrorist on the ground break him from his thoughts. (shouting) “Oh yes! Caleb, are you okay? Is anyone else hurt? Is that bastard tied up yet?”
The sultan grabs a tablecloth from the floor and ties the terrorist’s legs together.

“I’m fine” Groans Caleb, using silk napkins to stem the bleeding in his leg. “It’s in there deep but didn’t go through, I have it under control.”
Caleb pulls his walkie talkie from his jacket, leaving bloody fingerprints wherever he touches. “Code Orange, we have a Code Orange. There has been an attack on the life of the Sultan. Report to your established posts and follow Code Orange procedures.”
Caleb switches frequencies. “Adara, get an ambulance to the restaurant immediately. Then, call the Ida police commissioner, tell them what’s happened. Have ambassador Nakim contact the Britcan government to send someone over”
As Caleb was calling in the calvary, Caane turned to inspect the room, looking behind the bullet-ridden furniture. Lying in a pool of blood was the server, very obviously dead. Before the sultan could speak, the nephews’ phones pinged in unison.

Breaking them from their silence, each of the nephews pulls out their phone and begins to furiously type. More Discord pings could be heard as they relayed information back to their teams.

“Turn those fucking phones on silent, I can’t even hear myself think.” Shouts Caane, still staring at the dead waiter.
“I liked that guy... Mr. Cheng, are you ok?”

Looking to the back of the room Caane can see the old man cowering in a corner, who yells “他妈的到底发生了什么？他们杀了佐佐木!” in return.

Caane stares in confusion. “Mr. Cheng where is your tran… oh” He notices the translator slumped against the wall. Turning quickly, the sultan walks back to his brother’s side and notices Fakim still sitting in his dealer’s chair, mouth agape.
“Fakim go out there and lock down the restaurant, only let in the police and our people. It seems a crowd is gathering.”

“Let me come with you Fakim,” Noah spoke looking excited for some reason, ”the press love a good hero story.”

As Fakim and Noah walked outside a crowd of reporters who were already on scene due to the leak of the group’s whereabouts rushed when they saw the Batavian man walk out. While Noah told the story of what happened, stressing the Sultan’s heroism, Fakim chimes in: “Tell them about the guy you stabbed Noah, you’re a hero too!”

“Oh Fakim you flatter me, but yes, while the terrorist scum were reloading their weapons I saw a chance to take one out. I broke off the leg of our poker table and rushed at one of them stabbing him in his throat. It’s his blood that all over my suit. But really the true hero is Caane took out two of them while not even aiming!”

“Noah you undersell your actions! It was profoundly brave what you did for your fellow man!”

“Thank you Fakim, that’s all guys I have to talk to the cops and help out inside, I am sure Fakim can tell you the rest.”

Written in collaboration with Ilwilc01-Ian

by **Saint-Auguste** » Fri Mar 26, 2021 8:53 am

Funeral of Prince Eugène III
Saint Auguste's Cathedral
Ville du Saint, Saint-Auguste

Thousands gathered outside Saint Auguste's Cathedral in Ville du Saint, the traditional resting place of all of Saint-Auguste's royal family, and the resting place of Saint Auguste himself. The extended royal family, politicians, and military generals waited by the entrance of the cathedral for the arrival of the immediate family of Prince Eugène. The sky was grey with light rain, which matched the emotion of all present. Eventually, Prince Eugène's body arrived in a large black limousine hearse covered in royal decorations, the royal family were in a separate limousine behind, along with the military police on motorcycles. As the coffin was taken into the cathedral, the military band played their trumpets and drums in honour of the Prince. The Archbishop of Sawyer performed the ceremony.

Prince Pierre's Yacht
Augustine Sea

Prince Pierre found himself immediately on his yacht as soon as he returned from his father's funeral. Accompanied by his wife, children, and close friends, he took time to reflect on the future of his home nation with his older sister now on the throne. However, being the current Commonwealth Commissioner his thoughts quickly returned to the formation of the newest commission, the Commission for Maritime Security and Anti-Piracy (MSAP). Pierre already knew who he wanted to appoint as the commission head, Noah of Batavia. Pierre knew that Noah had championed the formation of the commission from the very beginning, and knew he was the right person to lead it. While on his yacht, away from the group drinking the finest Saint-Augustine wine, his father's favourite, Pierre decided to call Noah to inform him of the decision to make Noah the head of the commission.

"Noah. It's Pierre, I have some news for you."

"Bonjour Pierre, I'm sorry to hear of the terrible news about your father, I am praying for you and your family. What is this news?"

"Noah, you've been the only clear person from the beginning that can lead the new commission, I am assigning you as the head of MSAP if you accept this position. It comes with a lot of responsibility and I'm sure a lot of prestige on the international stage, along with the headlines. You will be criticised for your every move, but I have a feeling you of all people will be able to handle that."

"Pierre, that's most wonderful. I am honoured that you've chosen me. We should drink some of that famous Saint-Augustine wine soon to celebrate our cooperation."

"I'm delighted. We will meet soon to secure the details, I'm drinking my father's favourite wine right now, I will bring some when we next meet Noah!"

Les Trois-Îlets International Airport
Saint-Auguste

Princess Stephanié's first appearance in public as the new monarch was to greet her friend back home from fighting with the Women's Defence Legion in Ségou against terrorism. Her friend's family were originally from Ségou but they have lived in Saint-Auguste for a few generations. The Princess was dressed in very causal clothing and was holding her son, Jean-Luc. It hadn't sunk in that she was the leader of the nation yet, she was still recovering from the loss of her father and couldn't even think about her responsibilities just yet. She had always had paparazzi taking photos of her in public but this time there were twice as many. More questions than she could possibly answer were shouted at her direction. She ignored them all, only talking with her friend as they entered Stephanié's car with the chauffeur ready to take luggage into the boot.

"Steph, you wouldn't believe how the people of Ségou are reacting to you becoming Quee- I mean becoming the monarch of Saint-Auguste. They love you. They're calling you Queen!"

Stephanié laughed but liked the sound of being called Queen. "The people of Ségou are wonderful, and it warms my heart that they are happy with me. I want to thank you for your service in fighting the terrorism that plagues Ségou, I want to continue my father's work in removing all terrorist groups from Ségou."

"I'm serious, if there was a vote, they would want you as their monarch. Your father was popular there, but you are a sensation."

"Well if that's true how could I possibly say no?" She said, jokingly, laughing it off. "I will definitely make it my priority to have my first international visit to Ségou as soon as possible, I need some time to adjust to everything, it's been a tough few weeks." She said more seriously.

"You will see for yourself when you visit! Let's get you some lunch, do you still have the same chief?"

"I do, she makes the best crêpes in the world!" Stephanié said, happy to talk about anything other than her royal duties.

by **Kaarland** » Sat Mar 27, 2021 1:49 pm

South of Nisa - Cimmeria

Prince Lysander, at age 13, was the youngest son of Alexander, and third inline to the throne of Aphus. He and his family had been on an official visit to the Cimmerian territory when the troubles broke out; they were evacuated from the Governor’s Palace, fleeing the capital, under the protection of a small loyalist group.

They had fled to rural land, south of Nisa, and hid within an abandoned farm complex. Here they had so far remained hidden and unscathed; and what’s more, contact had just been made with the Kaarite government. Communication was difficult, but they expected to be extracted soon.

Two of the loyalist fighters had gone to hunt for food in the nearby forest, and with permission from his father, had taken the young Prince Lysander with them. On their way back, as they carried the trophies of their success across their shoulders, they heard gunfire in the near distance. At first one, then two shots. Then a flurry more. Then nothing. The loyalists reassured Lysander, but he saw they were visibly alarmed. They hurried back to the encampment, taking a different route than their outward path, in case their tracks had been followed.

Upon reaching the outskirts of the farm they heard a flurry of shots again, and cries of pain. They told the prince to stay hidden in the undergrowth as they investigated the scene.

Approaching the door to the farmhouse, one stood ready with his rifle cocked, the other flung open the door. What greeted them inside was a scene of devastation. Bodies lay strewn across the room, pools of blood seeped through the wooden floorboards. And they were also met by five men clad in black, head to toe, with gear and rifles identifying themselves clearly as special operations forces.

The fighters dropped their arms and identified themselves to the soldiers. One of them stepped forward, appearing to be the commander, asking where the prince was. A gasp was heard and they turned, seeing the young Prince Lysander standing upon the threshold. His eyes were fixed upon the far side of the room. The plaster had been blown to pieces, with bullet holes across the wall. Slumped beneath were the bodies of the Aphenian royal family; his father King Alexander, his mother Queen Katerina, his elder sister Princess Anastasia, and elder brothers Prince Alexias, and Prince Hector. Fixed in a state of shock and trauma he was unable to move. When the soldiers tried to move him towards their waiting vehicle he fought to stay with his family; they had to drag him to the truck against his will.

The drive to the evacuation spot was remarkably easy, compared to the madness of the farm. As the helicopter whirred its engines, the sole surviving child of the Archon, Prince Lysander, was flown to safety.

Atmoni - Cimmeria

The battle for Atmoni had been a bloody encounter. At first the rebels had held out well, but the sheer number of invaders overwhelmed their defences; once rebel positions had been identified, MG nests and sniper towers were easily targeted; and when Kherkovian APCs joined the fight, the rebels were steadily pushed back.

The rebel leader in Atmoni, General Abbas, was captured along with several of his staff. Awaiting interrogation, and certain death, he stood in a holding cell. He spoke to his surviving officers, attempting to lift their spirits. And reminding them of their duty, he saluted the rebellion, and cracked the cyanide capsule held between his teeth. His officers soon followed him.

CLF Command Centre - Cimmer, Cimmeria

The rebel leader Akkadian stood amongst his generals, receiving the reports from the fall of Atmoni. Whilst he had known this was the likely outcome, the news, which included the fall of his brother Abbas, came hard. But banishing any personal feelings, he set about organising the next level of defence with his high command.

The town of Arrechi was to be strengthened as the last defence in between the Kherkovian troops and Cimmer. This would hopefully buy time for the capital’s defences to be secured, and prepared for a lengthy siege.

Just as the meeting was adjourned, the noise of sirens began filling the air. Followed by the sound of explosions throughout the city. They quickly made their way to the city’s bomb shelters.

They had expected an air bombardment before the attack on the city, but this seemed far too premature to be the Kherkovian advance.

Beach Landings – South of Cimmer, Cimmeria

The beaches around the capital had been heavily fortified, but the overnight bombardment, both from air and sea, had done much to weaken the defences. Although many rebels had managed to shelter from the bombardment.

The Kaarite invasion forces suffered heavy losses in the first wave, but close air support from the uncontested skies began to target the now exposed rebel positions.

Every inch of sand was hard fought, until the rebel line was broken, and they began an unorganised retreat into the city.

The Kaarite forces didn’t give chase, instead taking the opportunity to secure the area, and establish a forward operating base for the impeding thrust into Cimmer.

The Archon’s Palace – Athiteia, Kaarland

Aeolus stood staring out of his office window, a forlorn expression across his aged face.

Hermaeus and Helio entered.

“You asked for us?” Helio said.

Aeolus kept looking through the window, his back to them. “How is the invasion progressing?”

“Good, we’ve taken the beaches. We’re establishing a foothold before we drive the bastards out of the city”, responded Hermaeus in a jubilant mood from their recent success.

Aeolus turned to face them both.

“I have news. From the party we sent to Cimmeria”.

They both could see the pained expression on Aeolus’ face.

“What’s happened?”, asked Helio.

“We were too late. The rebels got to them first.”

Aeolus gave them both a moment to absorb the traumatic news.

“That’s impossible! We only just heard from them! Our men were already in the country!” exclaimed Hermaeus fraught with grief and rage.

“My brother?” asked Helio.

“The King is dead. But the youngest child, Lysander, lives”.

“Lysander’s alive?” asked the boy’s uncle.

“He’s being taken directly to Aphus”.

“The others?”

Aeolus shook his head.

“Wait. Why Aphus? Why isn’t he being brought here?” Hermaeus interjected.

“Only a select few knew of the Archon’s location. Several high ups in military intelligence, and those present at the Senate session”.

“You don’t think?” asked Hermaeus.

“Who else?”

“But this is more than political manoeuvring – this would mean”.

“I know. Which is why we need more than just suspicions. When Cimmer has fallen, we must investigate where they were getting their support from. Clearly, they haven’t acted alone. In the meantime, we must assume there is still a threat to the prince’s life”.

“And if the finger does point back to Zephyr. What then?” asked Helio.

“I’ve already told Agis to battle ready his forces. Argomon must be doing the same”.

“Civil War?” Hermaeus said in disbelief.

Aeolus nodded.

The Senate House – Athiteia, Kaarland

Aeolus had called for the Senate to convene. An update on the successful beach landings was given by Strategos Strabo, supported by both Strategoi Hermaeus and Helio.

Aeolus then informed them all of the murder of the Archon and his family, save Prince Lysander. The room was hit by a stunned silence, with senators in shock. Then followed spontaneous condolences and tributes given out to the dead Archon by senators from all states.

Aeolus looked intently at Zephyr to gauge his reaction, of which there seemed to be little. It was when he revealed the youngest child Lysander had survived, that he noted Zephyr’s expression turn the most to that of concern.

Aeolus then addressed them again, stating an election would be held for the new archon in due course, once the crisis in Cimmeria had been resolved. And in the meantime, as was precedent, he would assume the position of Acting Archon.

Zephyr made a half-hearted attempt to block this, but was outnumbered on the floor, and didn’t pursue his case any further.

by **Kherkov** » Wed Mar 31, 2021 6:18 pm

Atmoni
Kherkovian Administrative Zone
Kemaria, Kaarland

The banners of Kherkov fluttered gently from Atmoni City Hall, a stark reminder of who was now de facto in charge to the city’s populace. The building had become the new centre of operations for the Kherkovian forces. With the capture of one of the major population centres of the island, the Kaiser and the General Staff were keen to erase the traces of battle that still remained. Regiments of the Reichsvolksgendarmerie were assigned to the island to serve as a police force, and bring order and security to the city and surrounding countryside. The rebuilding process had begun in earnest, with workers from the Reichskommisariat for the Interior shipped over to come and aid the rebuilding of destroyed property. With the functions of state essentially collapsed after the intense fighting, the Kherkovian Army was fulfilling the role of the police, fire service, transportation, and operating hospitals. Kherkovian professional civilians were also brought in – teachers, nurses, doctors, and the like were all imported to the island from mainland Kherkov. Native Kemarians were paid generously with Kherkrovian money to continue working, and assist in the rebuilding and continued administration of the island. Being paid the Kherkovian average wage, and with the vast majority of services now rendered free thanks to the arms of the Kherkovian State, many found themselves with much more disposable income than before. Those that wished to were encouraged to flee to the Kherkovian zone of occupation, who were registered with the Army upon arrival.

However, for the Kemarian people, these new benefits came with their caveats. In the name of security, personal liberty was stripped to an extent that they had never seen before. While the Kaarite government was hardly liberal or democratic, the lengths the Army went were extreme even for them. Teachers were forced to teach a Kherkovian curriculum, and introduce mandatory German lessons. Army Chaplains began attempting to convert people to the Kherkovian Church. Workers were paid in Kherkovian Khermarks, and shops were essentially forced to accept this new money, leading to many abandoning the Krakne. The double-edged sword of Kherkovian occupation led many to question what Kherkovian occupation would ultimately mean for them, but many were at least thankful that their homeland had ceased being a warzone, for now. As the burdens of administration began to grow, it was clear to the Kaiser that more serious infrastructure would have to be set up to ensure the smooth running of day-to-day business on the island. A contingent of military police agents were assigned to the island in order to provide a secret police function, however this was conducted in the utmost secrecy. To allow Von Tormarck to focus on tactical matters, the Kaiser had deigned to appoint a new administrator of the island.

The flags on the building began to fly wildly as a tiltrotor aircraft began its descent to the square outside. Troops rushed to clear civilians from the area and form a protective square around the landing zone as the aircraft touched town. The roar of aircraft and attack helicopters could be heard overhead as the vehicle’s escort peeled off to return to their normal patrol duties. Dust and debris were thrown up as the spinning rotors slowly came to a halt, the troops remaining silent and steadfast as they continued to watch for any interlopers without distraction. Soldiers from surrounding buildings and vantage points gave the all-clear signal as the door of the aircraft opened slowly, with a stream of yet more soldiers emerging, dressed in the same garb as the soldiers of the Gardekorps at the Kriegerberg in Gratberg. Generaloberst Von Tormarck, dressed in full parade dress, descended the staircase of the town hall, approaching the aircraft. Finally, a tall, stocky man emerged from the tiltrotor. Grinning widely, he threw the lit cigarette from his mouth as he began to survey his surroundings. Spotting Von Tormarck, he exited the vehicle, walking towards the Generaloberst. Like the commander, this man was also sporting full military parade dress, adorned in medals and various honours. The Generaloberst gave a sharp salute as the man approached, with the officers accompanying Von Tormarck doing the same.

“Kronprinz Adolphus!” exclaimed the Generaloberst, “It is an honour to welcome you to Atmoni, Your Imperial Highness.”

Adolphus returned the salute before laughing vociferously and shaking the Generaloberst’s hand. “An honour to be here, Von Tormarck, and an honour to meet again! But, let us not waste time. Drinks and business are very much in order!”

The two men sat nursing their glasses of alcohol as they discussed the ongoing situation on the island. The meeting was to serve as a handover of administrative responsibility to Adolphus. Attendants entered and exited the room hurriedly to fulfil the Crown Prince’s requests for refills, more drinks, cigars, and cigarettes. For some reason, it appeared that all of the attendants on duty were female. This led to Adolphus unreservedly flirting with nearly every single one of them, grinning and laughing as he did. Most of them could not help but giggle or smile as they left. Publicly, the Prince was as his father was: an untouchable, god-like figure detached from wider society to lead Kherkov in divine wisdom. But, in private, the Prince was undoubtedly a charismatic character, enjoying the company of drink and others when not attending to matters of state. Most - if not all – people could not help but enjoy his charms and company when they met him. While Adolphus’s responsibilities were currently fairly minimal, most of his time devoted to the study of warfare and statecraft, the Kaiser saw Kemaria as the perfect opportunity to grant Adolphus some real, hands-on practice, something the Prince had been clamouring for in recent years. As the meeting wrapped up, the men laughing, finishing their drinks, and shaking hands as it did, Adolphus turned to the Generaloberst for one final request.

“Oh, Tormarck, one more thing. I understand you keep some rebel prisoners in the basement here? Officers and the like? My policy is to know the enemy, through and through. I would very much like to talk with some of them.”

The Generaloberst was puzzled as such a request, but it was certainly not his place to question the Prince. After all, he had to see to the advance. “Of course, sir,” he replied, motioning to one of the guards, “the Sergeant here will take you to them.”

Captain Hubaia squinted as the door to his cell opened, light flooding the room as guards entered, secured him to a chair, and placed standing work lights inside. He had been mostly left alone since his capture at sea by the SRMS Lanzenreiter, save for the clattering of a metal tray every so often signifying the provision of a meal. Standing in the doorway was Adolphus, whose build nearly filled the entire doorframe, and his smile nearly filling his entire face. He was holding a bottle of whiskey and two glasses as he entered, placing them on the table in front of Hubaia, filling them both.

“Captain Hubaia. I am Crown Prince Adolphus of the Kherkovian People’s Empire.” Hubaia stared at the Prince in silence. Undeterred, Adolphus continued. “Firstly, I feel compelled to ask you… what makes you fight? Your life, as far as we have gathered, was secure and content before the rebellion. You are educated. Indeed, you are able to understand me now as I speak in English. Yet, you still take up arms. What is your reason? What drives you?”

Hubaia grimaced. He was not about to be charmed after days of solitary confinement. “Is this a serious question, anóitos? To free my people, my homeland, from the yoke of the oppressor! The Kaarite boot has been pressed down on Cimmeria for too long. Their rule has stripped Cimmeria of its liberty! You truly believe that we would lie down and submit to Kaarite rule forever? Is your ivory tower that high in the clouds?” He spat at Adolphus, who had stopped pacing around the room to approach one of the guards, and then motioned for them to leave the room. Hubaia, angered at Adolphus’s apparent lack of care, continued his seething rant. “And if you think that the Kherkovian boot will be different, think again! I know all about your family, Prukovian oppressor. Cimmeria will fight for her freedom until the end of time! We will resist tyranny whatever mask it wears, be it Kaarite, or Kherkovian! That is what drives me, Kherkovian. Freedom.”

The smile on Adolphus’s face had now disappeared. “I believe the expression in English is… ‘out of the frying pan, and into the fire’, Captain.” Adolphus said calmly, as he brandished the bayonet he had detached from the guard’s rifle, and slammed it into the clenched fist of the Cimmerian. He twisted it as he poured the second glass of whiskey over the prisoner’s hand, before kicking the chair that the Captain was affixed to, causing it to crash the bleeding man onto the floor, still bound to the metal seat. “If we are to have productive discussions, Captain, let us clarify some things. You cannot claim to comprehend the Kherkovian mind, or the Zohlburg dynasty, just as the ant cannot claim to understand the human being. Our race is so far above your pathetic ideals that you will never understand us, or the reasons for our success. This is why you believe your fruitless struggle to be worth it. However, the Fatherland will educate this godforsaken island.” Adolphus began to pace around the room once again as the Captain writhed in pain. “You, and your people, will learn to cooperate with the gracious hand of the Kherkovian State, and you will be glad. As animals, we shall treat you, and train you, as such. You will be shown the carrot, and you will be shown the stick.” Adolphus slammed his boot into the Captain’s face, teeth scattering across the floor of the cell. “You will all be disciplined like dogs. Unlike the pitiful Kaarites and their sub-standard rule, you will be properly taught how to fear the Kherkovian boot. And you will learn to thank God for the grace of the Fatherland.” The Prince paused to wipe the blood of the bayonet on the Captain’s clothes. “Perhaps you know the story of Emperor Oskar - the Kherian Flayer-Emperor – from your studies. Unfortunately, many of his enemies would perish far too quickly after the process was complete, a tragedy. Don’t you agree? But you must not fret over this, Captain. Thanks to the twin miracles of modern medicine and technology, the wonderous process can be prolonged in this day and age! I am, however, yet to perfect this. More research is required. If you do not learn to give me the information I need, you, and indeed as many Kemarians as necessary – your family and comrades among them - will be referred to my colleagues in the Imperial Scientific Bureau. Kemaria will learn, through fear and favour, the truth. The truth that it is Kherkov’s destiny - my destiny - to take its place as master, leader, and overlord of this world. I look forward to our next meeting, Captain. I hope that you pray for your countrymen’s sake that it is more productive.”

The Crown Prince exited the room and addressed the guards. “Send in the medical staff immediately.” He looked down to find his jacket stained with blood. “And have a new uniform prepared for me. It will likely prove necessary soon!” Adolphus chuckled boisterously, his wide grin returning as he walked over to the next cell.

Outskirts of Arrechi and Nisa
11th Army, Imperial Expeditionary Force
Kemaria, Kaarland

With the news of Kaarite landings in Cimmer, Kherkovian forces had hastened their plans of advance. Bombing of the towns of Arrechi, Nisa, and any known nearby rebel positions had been conducted. Aircraft assets from the Navy and the Kherkovian mainland had been the main components of this, but more traditional methods of bombardment from ships and ground-based artillery had also been employed. The terrain of western Kemaria was remarkably easy for Kherkovian vehicles to navigate, and with the rebel forces in retreat and disarray in the west, the speeding up of the advance met little resistance. Some positions had even been fully overrun by Kherkovian troops. By the end of March, Kherkovian tanks had begun firing upon the towns of Arrechi and Nisa, the Army preparing for full frontal infantry assaults.

by **Kaarland** » Tue Apr 13, 2021 9:42 am

Cimmer - Cimmeria

An uneasy silence filled the streets of Cimmer; the smell of gunpowder, heat and death clung to the city, like flies on a corpse.

The siege of Cimmer had been won by the Kaarite invasion forces the night prior; a violent urban battle, fought house to house, door to door, claiming the lives of combatants and civilians alike.

The forward command of the Kaarite forces now planned the pursuit of the retreating CLF forces.

The CLF leader himself, Akkadian, had fallen in the battle, and his second in command, General Batis, had taken control of the remaining rebel forces, organising a mass retreat from the city into the Ghizil Forest.

A discreet and special taskforce, assigned by acting-Archon Aeolus himself, had been sent to the city to investigate CLF records, attempting to establish if they had been receiving external support.

Southern Cimmeria

In the days and weeks that followed the capture of Cimmer, the Kaarite forward command focused their efforts on securing the other southern towns of Cimmeria, pushing the rebels further into the Ghizil Forest.

When news of Akkadian’s death reached the rebel towns, some chose to abandon the cause, but most chose to join up with the forces led by General Batis, with only a small number remaining to defend the towns.

Consequently, the remaining southern settlements fell quickly: first Gara and Nezak, then Zaria and Comi.

The Kaarite forces then began to pursue General Batis' army into the Ghizil Forest, to eliminate any final presence of the CLF in Cimmeria.

by **Kherkov** » Sat Apr 17, 2021 2:55 pm

Arrechi and Nisa
11th Army, Imperial Expeditionary Force
Kemaria, Kaarland

The advance into Arrechi and Nisa had cost the Reichsvolksmacht money and blood, but after days of hard fighting, the areas had been secured, and the Kherkovian flag was flying in the streets of each settlement. Military intelligence had brought back reports of rebel troops retreating into Ghizil forest, with their southern retreat cut off by the Kaarite capture of Cimmer. Eager to secure footholds in the forest, the Kherkovian General Staff had ordered a further, rapid advance into the forest in pursuit of the rebel army.

Meanwhile, other elements of the Kherkovian Army had begun to advance more slowly along the roads towards Cimmer. Their mission was to secure fortifiable positions, eliminate any rebel troops attempting to use these routes for retreat, and make contact with Kaarite land forces.

As before, rebel prisoners were publicly shot in the plazas of Arrechi and Nisa as a show of force to any would-be rebel sympathisers. Army Chaplains preached about the holy virtues and divine benevolence of the Kherkovian State beneath waving banners of black and white as the sound of rifles cracked through the city streets. Gendarmerie officers offered lucrative monetary deals to any collaborators who chose to inform on their neighbours. Using seized pre-rebellion documents, agents of the secretive Military Police worked to mercilessly hunt down any who had even light ties to the CLF, on the orders of the Crown Prince.

The Ides of March [IC|MT|COMPLETED]

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