Sylvarian Civil War [IC/MT APPLY TO ENTER]

[Hispaniola2]

18 April, 2024
Puerto Angeles, Hispaniolan National News Agency

A well-dressed woman sits at the table, a well-known news anchor by the name of Antonella Alvarez

"Good evening, this is Alvarez with the news: A emerging news story from the Civil war in Sylvaria has the leader of Sylvaria accuse our glorious country of espionage, in response our beloved leader had a productive phone call with Mister Kalden leading him to retract the accusations, with a joint investigation as to what actually happened being announced by the Chief of State. In other news our heroic soldiers on the frontlines are now ready to being the task of liberating the Sylvarian capitol of Sylvanthol, with support from the Eurasian Federation ground troops, will begin military operations sometime in the next week. To wrap up this breaking news report the Ministry of Foreign Affairs reports that it will be conducting a delegation visit to Sylvaria in the coming month, to both reassure the Sylvarian government of our resolve in the ongoing conflict, as well as to begin discussing the post-war situation. That is all we have for this report, next is Rojas with the weather, Rojas?" ....

Puerto Angeles, Ministry of Intelligence Headquarters

It was clear that El Jefe was not pleased at the failure of the operation to subvert Kalden. the Minister of Intelligence was poring over the records of the Agents currently deployed to Sylvaria, determining which to withdraw to become the lamb to be slaughtered, as El Jefe made it clear that they would have to produce something of substance in order to fully save face, they would spend a month or two conducting their investigation in order to let the public interest vanish into the background, before picking the already chosen sacrifice, someone expendable, to be stripped of their position and likely sent to a Labor camp. He looked at the pictures before him, before finally settling on one of the newer agents who had been sent to Sylvaria, someone who didn't possess any real actionable intel if he was to be extradited, and someone who wouldn't be missed.

18 April, 2024
Sylvanthol International Airport, Colonel Timothe Amaro

With the southern road through Innsholm opened, it was only a matter of time before 3/2 Marines were able to secure that route and thus a terrestial land supply route. With the Arakkhar having arrived on the northern edge of Sylvanthol a clear strategy began to develop in his mind. They needed to secure as much of the Capitol as possible, and they needed to do it quick.

4/4 Marines, consisting of a battalion of infantry and a battalion of tanks would be the primary thrust towards City Hall, hoping to secure the city center before either Arakkhar or the cannibals could dig in there, 1st Battalion 72. Air Assault will march to seize the National Library, and once they do that they'll push north to seize the Presidential Palace. 2nd Battalion 72. Air Assault will move in support of the Marines and seize the Clock tower, while the Ardenian paratroopers will move past them to secure the National Museum. It is hoped by this point that the 3/2 Marines will have arrived from the south, and they can begin by taking the Kapitalwerke Industries, before pushing to secure the Ministry of the Economy. The pace of advance will be rapid, normally in a urban environment the goal would be to maintain a steady pace, however with the threat of Arakkhar they were on a time crunch to claim as much of the capitol as possible. At the same time the Air Force will be conducting a mix of propaganda leaflet drops encouraging any remaining civilians or cannibals to surrender to Coalition forces, while others will conduct a series of airstrikes on the following targets: the 3 bridge spans west of the Capital island as it is now being called, and the Steel works on the northern bank, with the goal being maximum damage to deny their usage to the enemy. Satisfied with the plan, he gives the order to execute.

18 April, 2024
South Vvarreach (western road between Sylvanthol and Point Overlook

3rd battalion, 72. Air Assault Regiment has established a series of defensive positions guarding the western approach from Point Overlook, already there was several skirmishes between the patrolling Hispaniolans and elements of DSM fighters retreating eastwards from their failed siege of Point Overlook. Attack helicopters roamed the skies looking for targets of opportunity, engaging and destroying any moving vehicles on suspicion of them being DSM militants or VBIEDs, their ominous presence in the skies would terrify the locals, a reminder of the sheer destructive power and technological might of Hispaniola, and the Coalition.

Jundlandi Desert
Abdul, Divine Salvation Movement militant

The fall of Kulhold and the breaking of the siege of Point Overlook had been a turning point for him, as he trundled through the darkness, accompanied by a number of other militants, the harsh wind blasted the fine grains of sand like glass razors at them, covered head to toe in the clothing typical of the desert nomads, they wondered how they had reached this point. Only a few months ago they nearly ruled half of Sylvaria, but due to the infidel foreign devils they now were reduced to refugees in the desert. Abdul's heart had ached when he learned of the death of his brother, having been tortured to death, a martyr for the cause with absolute certainty, and he vowed that he would do the same, to resist the infidel to the end. He stopped and surveyed the column of stumbling robed figures past him, he reached down and patted his AK. He did not care how long it took, one day they will return, and one day they will have their Revenge.


OOC: Hello! sorry for the long delay, it was entirely due to Nationstates basically committing suicide these past week or so, and i wanted to give time for people to catch up, but yeah its beginning to look like the beginning of the end for the war in Sylvaria....or is it the end of the beginning?

[The Eur-asian Federation]

As the internet began ‘flooding’ with footage posted by Kremlinbots of coalition troops in Sylvanthol allegedly getting shot in the streets of the capital despite never leaving the airport, among many others, it stirred a reaction from Rhastov’s edgiest teenagers. These teenagers would begin a massive “counter-trolling campaign” - as they call it - against the Kremlinbots, posting memes making fun of the eurasians, mainly because they thought it would be funny.

(Image)

---

Moscow 'Web Brigade' Office

Comfortably far away from any fighting, the organization of the Kremlinbots stood in contrast to the army of teens. Anti-Eurasian posts? Downvoted and mass-reported into oblivion. Discussion about Sylvaria? Threads derailed with shock imagery spam and flamebait. Banned? Not a problem, simply deleting their cookies and hopping on another Tor-node or one of the thousands of IP-servers made specifically for this purpose and creating a new account would sidestep this. They had learnt well from the Washingtonbots of the 90's and 2000's, and with the creation of photo-realistic military simulators they could pump out mis-information regarding troop movements every single hour. As the saying goes: A Lie Is Halfway Round the World Before the Truth Has Got Its Boots On.

---

Eurasian Embassy, Havenbrook

"What now?" The Balt asked.

"I don't know..." The Uyghur replied, rubbing his eyes.

"Well, we've got three options: One, wait. Two, tell Kalden. Three, announce it ourselves." The Ukrainian said as he sipped from his flask.

"Let's get a rundown on each option. Brazas." The Uyghur said as he motioned to the Balt.

"Well, here's option one: Waiting. We are a 99% certain these are all the warheads the DSM had, but if that 1% is right... You know the rest. Pros: We get to avoid a major optics blunder if the DSM has more bombs. Cons: None, other than time wasted. Until we can crack those hard drives open, I'd suggest waiting." The Balt took a puff from his cigarette.

"Option number two: Tell Kalden. Simply inform him of our raid. The number of men we lost, the number of fanatics killed, and the number of warheads secured aswell as the drives. Pros: Winning Kalden's trust as his most stalwart allies, plus we can combine this with option one. Cons: If he announces it, we won't get all the praise and attention." Leaning back in his chair, the Uyghur replied to the Balt.

"And option three?" The Uyghur raised a brow.

"Simple. Give a press conference detailing everything. Pros: We get all the attention and glory, major optics win. Cons: If we're wrong about having captured all the warheads, it'll be our funeral. Kalden might be pissed too." The Balt wiped his right eye, continuing "Honestly. I'd say wait BUT tell Kalden about the raid. We wanna keep this on the down low, so he shouldn't announce this until we are 100% clear those are all the bombs." The Balt took another puff. "It's ultimately up to you."

The Uyghur stared down at the table, contemplating what to do for a good few moments before speaking up.

"Get Kalden on the line."

---

Joint Military Base Istomin, Sylvarian Mainland

While Innsholm had fallen and Kalden prepared for his push to Sylvanthol, the base continued expanding. From the heart of the barracks, its tendrils reached out to the surrounding grasslands, choking it with the hard concrete that would serve as the foundation. Space was needed for the airport that was to be attached to the base, and the engineers had begun tearing up the land inside the walls of the base, slowly replacing it with concrete and asphalt. The foundations for a control tower had been established, the metallic walls of the hangers were built, and talks of expanding the base to have an underground complex were thrown around.

Of course, Moscow wanted the base to be done with quickly, but to also have it been an impenetrable fortress, so they said they would only give the greenlight for an underground expansion once all surface construction was done. Plans were drawn up by the engineers for an underground hanger storage area, vast armories to supply several divisions, perhaps even a dedicated nuclear reactor to power the base! Still, they had to finish the surface, and aside from the airport they had to expand the port and facilities for the ground troops. Perhaps they would include civilian contractors from back home to help speed up the construction. All of these would be pipedreams if the facility wasn't modernized, however, so for now they would diligently work and wait.

[Great Kerguelen Islands]

Siladen City

The events taking place in Siladen city found, of course, some difficulty. The annihilation of the Republic had done wonders to advance the civil war further - it did not, however do any wonders for record-keeping, most of which was rather poor.

What was also necessary for consideration was the fact that the Arakhkhari government required meticulous record-keeping of its subjects - for both military affairs, and for economic ones. Simply put - the administration could not yet conduct a full census. They could, however, accurately gauge the population in the city centers - as they had been catalogued into the system when receiving their ration cards and identification papers.

This, coupled with the fact that the Republic had neglected entirely to give any sort of special denotation to nobility or former nobility, led there to be a great deal of confusion in the attempts to assemble the Concili Sylvarii.

Regardless, attempts continued - and several nobles, including the Daughter of a pre-revolutionary Duke had been found.
Something of a debate, of course, was brought to the attention of the Imperial Church. According to Arakhkhari law, only the Imperial Church could grant or revoke a title - and that foreign titles of nobility would be respected. However, in North Sylvaria, where there was little to distinguish it from a truly foreign, sovereign nation, things became somewhat muddled.

It was eventually decided, that under legal custom - that these individuals would be recognized as nobles under the de-jure Kingdom of Sylvaria, but not as such under the State of Northern Sylvaria.

It was, however, recognized that according to Arakhkhari doctrine - some form of aristocracy must be created in North Sylvaria. There had already been a framework for this - powerful corporate interests in Vaylenburgh that had been disenfranchised by the Revolution. However, these were not of the ‘quality’ necessary to grant titles of nobility. Thus, it was decided that they would follow the Arakhkhari model - that individuals who had rendered some great service to the state would be rewarded with land, laborers, and titles.

The creation of a so-called warrior aristocracy, one that was fiercely loyal to Arakhkhar, would go a significant ways towards at least a partial ‘legitimization.’

It was also, however, decided that North Sylvaria would not be ruled by a monarch - the Intendancy of Varos would continue, and that the State of Northern Sylvaria would remain an Intendancy - ruled as a dictatorship, with elements of the aristocracy, and with the inviting of Arakhkhari settlers.

The general and the GKI government was pleased to know that Sylvarians managed to become more tolerant.
Being himself an ancient monarchy is pretty difficult, so GKI proposed his help to manage this problem.

Siladen City

General MacKarthy tent

I decided to assiege Kalig, we must be prepared to go here in 48h
Here is the list of the units to prepare :
- 24th ande 25th artillery division to bombard the city
- 104th and 105th infantry division to besiege the city
- 95th and 96th infantry division to empeach that a rescue army reach the city / for the blocus
And 1/2 of the scout group
Also please inform Northern Sylvarian and Arakhkiri troops.

[Emerstari]

Emerstarian Newspaper

The Commons has passed the "Sylvarian Lottery" Resolution, capping a week of debate prompted by a special legislative session. The resolution passed (360-263-30) following five revisions and three votes. Representative Marc Sjonde (FSF, Erce-4), chair of the Committee on the Armed Forces, withheld the first three revisions from the floor, and subsequently, the fourth was defeated, while the fifth initially failed, owing to a large number of abstentions across party lines. The People's Social Union (FSF) saw the most abstentions among its members, accounting for nearly half of the total: 14.

The resolution calls for the initiation of a lottery to fund a force comprised of volunteers from the Royal Armed Forces that will be directed to aid the restoration of peace to the country under the government of Salaros III. Representative Agostina Lofve (FSF, Mar-9), FSF whip, has stated since the close of the session, "[C]ompromise...forced us towards what now seems to have been a better solution than the first. As divided as the vote turned out to be, the lottery makes the extent of public interest the extent of our involvement."

Additionally, the resolution, which contains a provision to join the World Assembly Coalition, as it was passed, does not include any declaration of war. In a joint statement, the Committee on the Armed Forces explained that the Foreign Office solely recognizes the government of Salaros III, and as such, the resolution was written with an internal insurgency in mind as opposed to conflicting states. The resolution, following its passing from the House, received the assent of the Lords Marshall and High Admiral as well as the royal assent.

Sylvaria

The lottery raised funds for an ad hoc force comprising 2,800 soldiers. The force was divided into three light infantry battalions and its several support companies. In charge, Colonel Johannes Bœrnholm. The man had retired a number of years ago. Retired, he had offered his services as an advisor to Thomes while he was a claimant to the throne of the Green Union. Then, he retired again to his family's old estate. Hearing of this command, he offered his services to the ad hoc committee created to organize it.

Accompanying the first group of the Sylvarian Rifles, as the unit was dubbed, aboard the transport KFS Olbrygge, the destroyer Åsvege was detached from the Expeditionary Fleet with the intent to join the Coalition blockade. The remainder of the Sylvarian Rifles would be transported by air.

Colonel Bœrnholm

The sound of bagpipes played far off, but it was fast approaching, approaching with the sight of the first of the Emerstarians to arrive to the coalition camp. The pipers led the unit, wrapped in blue ponchos adorned by the royal arms—white rivers and red hearts. They played a traditional tune, Stormning des Karlinares—a traditional tune but an odd one for an arrival. It was irregular, but these weren't regulars, which Emerstari had declined to send. They were former regulars—now reserves—who volunteered for Parliament's irregular expedition. Their irregularity and that of their piping crescendoed with their commander, Colonel Bœrnholm. Just behind the pipers and ahead of his men, he marched in the same blue poncho. Resting his pipe beneath his mustachioed lip, he entered the camp, preceded by the pipers, who slowed their tune to a stop. Bœrnholm stepped in front of them.

He looked around the camp. "God kje tos," he announced, greeting his onlookers in his own language. "The Emerstarians...we have arrived," he added, a thick accent covering his words...unless his mustache was to be blamed for that.

[Arakhkhar]

Camp Elaros
SIC:
Stalking.
Watching.
Eyes in the dark, softly glowing with a purple hue.

Enigma-2 had been provided, from the Ministry of State Security, a map of the complex - she would, of course, have to find a way in. An obstacle stood in her way - a 3.5 meter tall barrier - evidently, rather scrapped together - some of it was chainlink, some of it was, of course, concrete - all, of course, was topped with a rather generous amount of barbed wire.

She decided to, for the moment, continue to circle about - searching for an appropriate point for infiltration - for some gap in the barrier, or for some weak point.

Upon finding a part of it that seemed slightly poorer maintained - with some overgrown vegetation nearby, and relatively quickly put-together welds, she found a section which was made with chain-link.

The ground was somewhat uneven, here. Picking a small foldable trowel - she found that the dirt underneath it would not be particularly difficult to move.

Spending a short while simply digging, she had barely enough space to crawl under the fence - making it inside. From there, she simply used the trowel to cover the hole back up, making sure to note it in her mind as a possible point of exfiltration.

From there, she found herself within Camp Elaro’s outskirts.

---

Sylvanthol
The Arakhkhari troops in the capital received the message from their Rhastovian counterparts.

-snip

“Sir, we received a radio transmission from Arakhkhari troops. They’ve entered the capital.” the radio operator hands the rhastovian commander the transcript.
“Horrible news, but expected.” the commander takes a sip out of a beer bottle. “At least they are willing to cooperate. Tell them we should meet at the Iharos Memorial East-End Bridge tomorrow at nine o’ clock. And ask the carrier to dispatch some aircraft for cover, just in case.”
“Roger that.”

Code: Select all

=============================
SYLVANTHOL COALITION COMMAND
STANDARD-VII ENCRYPTION
============================
ADDRESSED TO ARAKHKARI AND N. SYLVARIAN FORCES IN SYLVANTHOL
=============================
WE AGREE TO THE MEETING. LOCATION AND TIME ARE IHAROS MEMORIAL EAST-END BRIDGE, TOMORROW AT 09:00 LOCAL TIME.
PLEASE CONFIRM LOCATION AND TIME, AND WE HOPE TO REACH A PEACEFUL AGREEMENT.
{END TRANSMISSION}

A short message was sent in response.

Code: Select all

=============================
ARAKHKHARI TSENTRALKOMMANT
STANDARD-VII ENCRYPTION
=============================
ADDRESSED TO COALITION FORCES IN SYLVANTHOL
=============================
THIS HAS BEEN CONFIRMED. DUPLICITY WILL NOT BE TOLERATED.
MAY WE FIND AMICABILITY.
{END TRANSMISSION}


As amicable as Arakhkhar could be with a Coalition with the express purpose of opposing them, of course. Arakhkhari forces would, in short order, manage to reach Victory Square - the heart of Sylvanthol. Cannibals had been cleared out ahead of time in a 4 hour operation involving nearly 400 shock infantry units - purging the rot from every crevice and building around Victory square. The purpose was, of course, to make a propaganda video - that being of Arakhkhari tanks arriving 'unopposed' to the heart of Sylvaria.

The video would be of a column of new Arakhkhari A-70 main battle tanks - 7 or so, followed by AIV-23 "Dagger" Infantry Fighting Vehicles, and just one of the newest editions - a single AIV-30 "Hammer" armored fighting vehicle - which would then be widely re-posted on North Sylvarian and Arakhkhari internet accounts online.

Accounts such as "NEW_ORDER_2024" would widely spread videos of Arakhkhari and North Sylvarian troops - often carefully editing out images of brutalization of civilians by Civil Protection, of course - however, widely showing other events - such as the aforementioned capture of Victory Square.

---

Nayden
The tense atmosphere in Nayden had given way to a number of... tense scenarios.
For one, the Green Union's soldiery had been... occasionally leaving their checkpoints, donning simple rags, and heading into the combat zone - looking for survivors from the ongoing battle, dragging them out of the rubble - with the hopes of returning them to the safe zone.

One such individual - a Green Union soldier, had donned ragged clothing - hiding his firearm underneath. It was in the dead of night. He had been, of course, separated from his squad - as he looked out for survivors in the rubble of Nayden.

As he crouched down into a crater of a bombed-out building, he checked his ammunition and the makeshift medical equipment that he had been given for this task.
"Citizen"
He froze - it was the vocoded voice of a Civil Protection officer. And, moreover, he didn't know a word of Sylvarian. He looked up, to see the Officer standing above him.
The officer gave a quick report.
"Central Command, be advised, civilians in the AO."
Civilians? Apparently, the Officer - in the darkness - was unable to distinguish him, as he wore dirty rags. He would have to attempt to play a Sylvarian - at least until he could draw his weapon.
"Do you require medical assistance?"
The Coalition soldier in rags looks somewhat nervous, then confused, then open his mouth before closing it again, realizing that he can't actually say a word or else this guy will know he's definitely not Sylvarian.
Noting the bandages being carried, the officer speaks, assuming he was injured and attempting to bandage himself, before going into shock.
"Listen - you are in shock. I mean you no harm."
A million thoughts were racing through the Markish soldier's head. Should he run? Should he shoot the officer? Should he try to pretend to be a Sylvarian?
He would not have to think long - as the sound of gunfire on the other side of the street was heard - the Officer's head turned on a swivel, as his distorted voice shouted at the civilian.
"Go! Get to cover. It is not safe."
The Metrocop rushes to cover, as he engages in a firefight with a number of Communist insurgents.
"Central Command, we have enemy assets in operation in Grid 4. Requesting dismounted element support."
The Markish soldier, seemingly astounded by his luck, scampers to his feet as the officer is distracted - running in the opposite direction as quickly as he could run.
When the officer returned to check on the 'civilian' after the firefight's conclusion, he found him conspicuously missing - he merely assumed that the civilian was scared of the fighting and ran off.

---

The Jundlandi desert
The High Kayffah had, finally, seen that this was the end - at least, a setback. He resolved that he would, someday, return to Sylvaria.
He began a speech, recorded somewhere in a cave.

"Brothers."
"It is with sadness in my heart, and with faith in my soul, that I must say this - that this battle is lost."
"The infidels, who have been thus far great in number against our warriors - in this time, we have felled a great many - as their men can attest. That they have brought all the technological terrors of their heresy upon us, as we fight with nothing but the strength in our hearts, the protection of the Gods, and the barrels of our rifles."
"This war - it is a cruel one, and our people have suffered countless indemnities. It is clear to me now - as the Gods have made clear to me in a vision - that they have wilt that we do not die here. That our faith, that true Sylvaria does not die here."
"I have been called - called to the great deserts."
"Follow me, my Brothers - and let it be known to all ye heretics. Be warned - for we shall return! Prepare, and it shall do you little."

However, the DSM did not aspire to leave without leaving behind a gift. Upon the road, a group of martyrs carried a truck - when the main group would cross the mountain pass, their cargo would be driven to a highway connecting Sylvanthol province to Point Overlook province - and detonated.

It was, in fact, the last of the DSM's dirty bombs.

---

Havenbrook
Kalden was a man who had been called rather often - and so yet another one from the Eurasians was not particularly unexpected. He had, of course, sincerely hoped it would go better than the last time he had been contacted - which was with Hispaniola, which very nearly dried up the foreign support - and crucially, almost deprived him of his supporter in the Coalition.

As the phone call was redirected by his secretary to his office, the phone rang, and he answered with due haste.
"Hello?"
After being explained the situation - he decided to sit back for a moment.
He was glad that there was a raid done - although, of course, he had expressed that he would have been informed beforehand.
He also stressed something else.
"Glory is not worth the price that shall come if you are wrong about the DSM's stockpile of Dirty Bombs. Keep this quiet. I have a feeling that the High Kayffah will not go quietly into the desert. Be on the watch for the next few days - they may prove critical."

Kalden also felt the need to give a speech - to be an address regarding the state of the war, and a roadmap to its end.

"My countrymen - my friends."
"With the fall of Point Overlook, with our ceasefire - and our troops now in the capital, it has become clear to me, and, perhaps, to you, that this war is drawing near a conclusion."
"My friends - this war has been taxing. Upon all of us - perhaps, more than you know."
He gave a pause.
"There have been questions pointed towards my leadership. Some... my detractors, and those abroad - they believe that I would make this country into a dictatorship - that I intend to remake this nation in my own image."
He let this statement hang in the air.
"What I have come here to say, is that these claims - I renounce them wholly."
"For one - Sylvaria has one dictator too many."
He said, of course, alluding to Intendant Varos.
"For the main part - such would be contrary to the nature of our struggle - it is the struggle of a nation against corruption. Against the decay of the Republic - against that which would threaten to tear out nation apart. Our struggle - my struggle - has been for you, and for you alone. There is a reason I do not spend my time wasting in luxury, as good men die to cannibal hands every day - it is because this country has needed a leader."
"I will not dictate unto you - nor have I ever done so. What I want - and what the people of Sylvaria want, both North and South, is peace."
"And what you want - as you have made so clear, in these past months - is that you wish the freedom to choose. To choose who shall lead you."
"My friends - I charged against this corruption on your behalf, as one of you. But soon, this war will be at an end."
He pauses for a moment, before speaking again.
"I remain committed - as I always have been - to your right to choose who shall lead you - I make my solemn oath unto you - that when this war ends, we shall hold an election - a fair election, not like the ones of petty criminals that had characterized the Republic."

[The Daeva]

A rather peculiar tune would find its way into Nayden - spreading among some of the Coalition troops. What started as something of a joke regarding the 11-nation army at Peking, became something of a tune to hum idly - something of a comment on their situation.

(To the tune of 55 Days at Peking)
Bom-bom-bom-bom-bom-bom
Bom-bom-bom-bom-bom-bom
Bom-bom, bom-bom-bom
Bom-bom-bom-bom-bom-bom-bom

The year was Two-thousand twenty four,
T'is worth remembering
The men who lived through
Fifty-five days at Nayden

T'was called the Sylvarian Civil War!
A bloody, Oriental war
Against all nations
Of the Democratic Coalition!

The flags of Soveinska and Takhur!
How they fluttered in the breeze
The Iyumian and the Rhastovian
And the flag of the Green Union!

Then came the sound of bugles
The rolling drums of doom
And the streets of Nayden
Were as empty as a tomb

Bom-bom-bom-bom-bom-bom
Bom-bom-bom-bom-bom-bom
Bom-bom, bom-bom-bom
Bom-bom-bom-bom-bom-bom-bom

The Vicereine of all Arakhkhar
Gave the signal to begin
Let the foreign devils
Be driven from Nayden!

They stormed the checkpoint!
They attacked with shot and shell
And they came in black-colored armor!
Shouting "Vi Imperark" as they fell!

The drums have long been muffled
The bugles cease to ring
But through the ages
You can hear them echoing

Bom-bom-bom-bom-bom-bom
Bom-bom-bom-bom-bom-bom
Bom-bom, bom-bom-bom
Fifty-five days at Nayden

Bom-bom-bom-bom-bom-bom
Bom-bom-bom-bom-bom-bom
Bom-bom, bom-bom-bom
Fifty-five days at Nayden

Bom-bom-bom-bom-bom-bom
Bom-bom-bom...

The song was, once heard by a Civil Protection officer, of course, banned in North Sylvaria.

---

Siladen City

The events taking place in Siladen city found, of course, some difficulty. The annihilation of the Republic had done wonders to advance the civil war further - it did not, however do any wonders for record-keeping, most of which was already rather poor.

What was also necessary for consideration was the fact that the Arakhkhari government required meticulous record-keeping of its subjects - for both military affairs, and for economic ones. Simply put - the administration could not yet conduct a full census. They could, however, accurately gauge the population in the city centers - as they had been catalogued into the system when receiving their ration cards and identification papers.

This, coupled with the fact that the Republic had neglected entirely to give any sort of special denotation to nobility or former nobility, led there to be a great deal of confusion in the attempts to assemble the Concili Sylvarii.

Regardless, attempts continued - and several nobles, including the Daughter of a pre-revolutionary Duke had been found.
Something of a debate, of course, was brought to the attention of the Imperial Church. According to Arakhkhari law, only the Imperial Church could grant or revoke a title - and that foreign titles of nobility would be respected. However, in North Sylvaria, where there was little to distinguish it from a truly foreign, sovereign nation, things became somewhat muddled.

It was eventually decided, that under legal custom - that these individuals would be recognized as nobles under the de-jure Kingdom of Sylvaria, but not as such under the State of Northern Sylvaria.

It was, however, recognized that according to Arakhkhari doctrine - some form of aristocracy must be created in North Sylvaria. There had already been a framework for this - powerful corporate interests in Vaylenburgh that had been disenfranchised by the Revolution. However, these were not of the ‘quality’ necessary to grant titles of nobility. Thus, it was decided that they would follow the Arakhkhari model - that individuals who had rendered some great service to the state would be rewarded with land, laborers, and titles.

The creation of a so-called warrior aristocracy, one that was fiercely loyal to Arakhkhar, would go a significant ways towards at least a partial ‘legitimization.’

It was also, however, decided that North Sylvaria would not be ruled by a monarch - the Intendancy of Varos would continue, and that the State of Northern Sylvaria would remain an Intendancy - ruled as a dictatorship, with elements of the aristocracy, and with the inviting of Arakhkhari settlers.

---

Urikstead
With the bodies found - charred, but with the strangest pieces of gold - it was determined that these were likely not Jundlandi raiders, as had been the opening hypothesis of the Civil Protection officers.

It was decided, however, that in the meantime - a system of checkpoints had to be established along roads in the Western regions. Order had come to western Sylvaria, and now, it would have to be here to stay.

In the coming days, more trucks would pull into the region - as Civil Protection slowly gained a grip on the region as a whole - taking key positions along road intersections, highways, and any other roads.

An important element would, of course, be to establish civil order in the other village - the one which had sent their textiles to trade.

Another Civil Protection team would, themselves, move into the rural areas.

Life under North Sylvarian rule was, in truth, not particularly harsh in the rural areas - not that central rule had ever truly effected life there. It was mostly a place insulated from the political instability deeper into the country.

People didn’t so much as dissent, because, frankly, they didn’t know or care enough to do so. The largest imposition thus far had been the issuance of identity papers to the locals, along with ration cards - incredibly useless, considering the nearest rationing center was at least a two-hour’s drive away, and the fact that the villages out here were mostly able to provide for themselves.

To be a Civil Protection officer stationed here was to live in proverbial luxury - compared to the hellish jobs of officers in Sylvanthol, who had to contend with cannibals emerging from the underground, or deal with inevitable dissent and confusion among the civilian populace - most of whom lacked basic provisions, for which the rationing system was only slowly remedying.

---

Sylvanthol
Indeed, the situation in the capital was unenviable.

Though the efforts to clear the Metro continued, it seemed as though the cannibals were unending. It was not so difficult to dispatch of them, of course - as they were unarmored, and poorly armed - often with only clubs. However, on occasion - ex-government troops, who had formed the core of Inrik the Devourer’s retinue, would appear - and then, they would have a fight on their hands.

Shock Infantry could rather easily eliminate then whenever they appeared - but Civil Protection officers, lightly armored and armed, would often struggle to deal with their attackers until Shock Infantry could arrive to relieve them.

In this atmosphere - where one constantly ran the risk of being ambushed by a crowd of barely-human cannibals, Civil Protection had to engage in a crackdown on the civilian populace.

Civilians, wherever found, were moved into designated camps - there, they could be watched, fed, and most importantly, isolated from the fighting.

The image, however, in practice - became that of Civil Protection officers charging down civilians, shock batons carried in hand, crackling with electricity.

However, there was other news. From the camera mounted in the helmet of a North Sylvarian Shock Trooper, a video was being recorded… stepping onto a pile of rubble.

A few steps more, as the camera panned up - and the scene became visible. In front of the trooper, was the former palace of the royals - which, after the revolution 50 years ago, had become a site of incredible importance - as Voss, although she had an official residency, often stayed here - and parliament had often met here.

In video footage posted online - the Trooper, with his squad, would enter through the grand wooden doors - clearing the building, room by room - shooting former government employees who had taken to cannibal diets.

He stepped into an office - the office of the president. A cannibal, practically foaming at the mouth, and wearing a ragged, torn, and bloody business suit, charged at him with a pen,
but the Trooper remained calm. Such were the easiest to deal with. One shot into the center of mass - and another into the head, to complete the liquidation. And, with practiced efficiency - something of a calculus to the chaos that was war - he executed the cannibal, then and there - whose body dropped to the ground with a thud.

He stepped forward, over the corpse - and examined his surroundings - this was, indeed, President Voss’s office. He took a moment to take it in - how he had got here, and to dwell on the implications of it.

He didn’t take long to do so, though.
Speaking into his radio, he uttered.
“Ordinal to my position.”
With that, his Ordinal entered the room - a Subordinal watching the door behind them, as they creeped to the balcony.

The balcony overlooked the river, and the southern bank - as they stepped out onto it, they could almost feel triumph exuding from it - as they looked out at the city after them, across the river - smoke rising from a number of places.

From the balcony’s railing - a North Sylvarian flag was hung over it - with the express purpose that it would be seen by the Coalition troops on the other side of the river.

---

Havenbrook
General Kalden was now left to consider the position of the Prince of Sylvaria. There were, he felt, two routes to him - they could either push through the remnants of the Communist forces in Havenbrook province, and thereafter end the Communists as a threat to Sylvaria and as a faction - or, he could push through the remnants of the DSM, to the west.

Ultimately, however, he faced a choice. Pressure from Fascist elements and from Patriotic Socialists had given him to both directions - the Socialists favored the Western strategy, and the Fascists favored a drive on the capital in the Eastern strategy.

Ultimately, however - he decided on something of a bold strategy. He would push through both. By focusing only on the road north of Innsholm, rather than on the remainder of the Communists in the province, they could secure an open route to the capital - something that would give him leverage in the inevitable peace negotiations.

Furthermore - by wiping out the remnants of the DSM, they could secure both a western access road to the capital, and a quick route to the royalists.

However, other matters continued in the darkness. Hispaniola had attempted to reach out to Kalden's subordinates - hoping, of course, to incite some treason within the ranks - to urge the Nationalists to break the ceasefire. The responses to this ranged... considerably. Some had politely declined - stating that they would prefer to keep their jobs, rather than wage an unwinnable war. Even the Fascists, at this time, had changed their official party line - staking the peace as a move that would be taken to reinforce Sylvaria in the meantime, and recognized that Sylvaria was simply not ready for total war - yet. However - some of these reactions went from polite declinations, to outrage - that a foreigner would attempt to incite treason within Sylvarian ranks, and to do so under the guise of being 'allies.'
This, naturally, found its way all the way to Kalden himself - who, privately, was infuriated by the attempt to go behind his back. He also knew, however, that his forces had, for the moment, relied upon Hispaniolan support.

As such - he could not make any public movement against the Hispaniolans. However, there were a flurry of orders made in the darkness - as propaganda posters featuring Hispaniolan soldiers were taken down, and any mentions of Hispaniolan efforts during the war were simply struck out from government owned media.

Furthermore, in the economic sector - officials were quietly told not to accept investment from the Hispaniolan economy.

---

New Vvarreach
The Prince's encounter with the strange man, cut short by his sudden exit, was, at first, of little consequence - as the note was stashed in one of his pockets for the time being, until they could meet at a later time.

As time went on, however - the Prince had grown more than a little paranoid - stories of ISI agents from rooftops, or of spies, had accompanied him - tales of doom and death projected onto him from a number of people, from travelers in the desert.

Regardless - he was an old man. He knew, at some point, he would face death - and so, worked within himself the bravery to overcome his paranoia and meet with the mysterious stranger.

With a retinue of 4 of his most trusted knights - those that had accompanied him on his exile, and 3 more of his desert mercenaries, he went out to the Bar - to meet with that strange man.

A Sophisticated Soirée
Theme: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=2AZOknKotVc
New Vvareach

The old abandoned bar was practically transformed. While on the outside it was the same, on the inside it had quite the makeover. It was generally much fancier due to Sir Roland’s immense luggage, with even such luxuries as a phonograph playing classical music. As the Royal approached, Hargrave and two of the Shamash Securities Operators approached him. The butler bowed deeply. “Hello, your highness. I am Hargrave, personal valet to the honorable Sir Roland.” He says. “If you will follow me, sir.” He says in his affable monotone as he leads the small party deeper into the bar.

A banquet table had been set up, with Sir Roland sitting at the head in his uniform. His medals gleamed with a coat of fresh polish, and his Sabre hung at his side giving him an altogether dashing and roguish look. He bowed in a rather dramatic manner. “Your majesty! I am so glad you were able to join me for my little get together.” He says affably as one of the porters begins placing table settings for the Princes troops, the delicious smells of steak and seasoning filling the room. “I am Sir Roland Acar, Gentleman Explorer. I hail from the Holy Empire of the Daeva, a rather powerful nation. And I have decided to lend my unique skill set to your cause, sir, in order to put you on the throne you deserve.” He says this so genuinely it is hard not to believe him. “You may have read my memoirs, although I won’t fault you if you haven’t. Champagne?”

[The Eur-asian Federation]

Eurasian Embassy, Havenbrook

"No, no, NO!" The Uyghur slammed the receiver onto the phone before grabbing it and smashing it at the wall. How could this happen? How could they have not known?

He stewed in his seething rage, Kalden would never be able to drive on to Sylvanthol from Point Overlook. They would never be able to announce the raid, the heroic efforts of those men would be buried deep in top secret government archives. He sat down in the chair near the table, holding his face in his hands. "Fuck."

He looked at the smashed phone, slamming his desk on the table. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his mobile phone and shakily dialed a number. Holding the phone up to his ear, he spoke "Get down here as soon as possible."

20 minutes later, the Balt sheepishly walked into the room. Taking his seat at the table, he kept his head down. For the Uyghur, there was no use in berating him, what's done is done. "What I want done is simple." He spoke.

"Get me the head of that fucking fanatic cocksucker. I don't care how it's done, poison, bullet to the head, getting bombed by one of his own warheads. Just do it." He stared the Balt down, gripping his fists tightly.

"Yes, sir."

---

Havenbrook

When news of the dirty bombs detonation came in, there was an almost agonizing silence throughout the city and even moreso in the ranks of the 202nd. Once the metaphorical fallout had reached HQ, they sent an order: Relocate to Joint Military Base 'Istomin'. The base was a short drive from Havenbrook, and so they would be able to still preform their original task if need-be. Better yet, the facilities there were of a much higher quality than a repurposed port, and the construction of a dedicated airport would allow for direct transportation of men and supplies to the base.

---

Joint Military Base Istomin, Sylvarian Mainland

With the 202nd's arrival, the 15th received new orders aswell: They were going to move north. With the DSM's last spiteful act, the only road to Sylvanthol from the north was closed, and now the road through the communists would be the only way they'd get in. This was their first combat assignment, they didn't know what to expect, the brass even moreso. Once they inevitably broke the communists and drove on to Sylvanthol, the possibilities for something to go wrong were endless. A mis-understanding here, a case of mis-identification there under the cover of night. If one Eurasian, Coalition or God-forbid an Arakhkhran trooper fell by any of eachothers bullets, the diplomatic fallout would be immense.

But as the 15th's engineers went on with them, the 202nd's engineers now picked up the slack. Their orders were the same, with a few minor adjustments to prioritize the airport here and there. The fence on the concrete walls had been completed, and the tunnel leading to and from the base was now sealed by a blast-door airlock. Of course, in the case that the tunnel was breached or any hostiles got trapped inside, there was a tank filled with chlorine gas attatched inside a hollow compartment inside of the roof of the tunnel. The entire layout of the base had been mapped out, they knew what they were going to build where and as such had completed construction of the road system of the base.

The brass knew leaving the job to the engineers would take forever, and so military contractors back from the Motherland were called in. High-paying contracts to foam from the mouth at were given to some of the top construction companies with a history of cooperation with the military. Of course they would have to go through the Northern Strait, the brass suspected that the Coalition would never let their ships pass through the Southern Strait even if the ships passing through were privately owned-cargo ships carrying construction equipment.

The arrival of these contractors would help speed up construction on the more advanced facilities as the engineers finished up modernization of the barracks, cafeterias, and whatnot. Of course, a side-effect of the engineers decision to hire private Sylvarian contractors for manual labor was the growing wealth of the region. See, the contractors were being paid with Rubles, and so had the ability to essentially afford anything in the country due to regional pricing. Better yet, they could afford goods from abroad. The Eurasians got manual labor, and the civilians were quickly becoming the richest in all of Sylvaria. A win-win for both sides.

[Arakhkhar]

From every television station, radio, and device in North Sylvaria - a blaring alarm would play.

Code: Select all

MINISTRY OF INFORMATION
CITIZEN ALERT
==============================
HEIGHTENED RADIATION DETECTED
DO NOT PANIC.
THIS IS NOT A DRILL.
SUSPECTED DEPLOYMENT OF RADIOLOGICAL WEAPONRY.
REMAIN INDOORS. CLOSE WINDOWS AND DOORS.

CIVIL PROTECTION WILL PROVIDE GAS MASKS. DO NOT PANIC.
THE SITUATION IS BEING CONTROLLED.

TRUST IN THE INTENDANT.
ORDER IS RETAINED.


New Vvarreach

A Sophisticated Soirée
Theme: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=2AZOknKotVc
New Vvareach

The old abandoned bar was practically transformed. While on the outside it was the same, on the inside it had quite the makeover. It was generally much fancier due to Sir Roland’s immense luggage, with even such luxuries as a phonograph playing classical music. As the Royal approached, Hargrave and two of the Shamash Securities Operators approached him. The butler bowed deeply. “Hello, your highness. I am Hargrave, personal valet to the honorable Sir Roland.” He says. “If you will follow me, sir.” He says in his affable monotone as he leads the small party deeper into the bar.

A banquet table had been set up, with Sir Roland sitting at the head in his uniform. His medals gleamed with a coat of fresh polish, and his Sabre hung at his side giving him an altogether dashing and roguish look. He bowed in a rather dramatic manner. “Your majesty! I am so glad you were able to join me for my little get together.” He says affably as one of the porters begins placing table settings for the Princes troops, the delicious smells of steak and seasoning filling the room. “I am Sir Roland Acar, Gentleman Explorer. I hail from the Holy Empire of the Daeva, a rather powerful nation. And I have decided to lend my unique skill set to your cause, sir, in order to put you on the throne you deserve.” He says this so genuinely it is hard not to believe him. “You may have read my memoirs, although I won’t fault you if you haven’t. Champagne?”

The Crown Prince was, by contrast, considerably less well dressed - he had worn the wear of the desert for so long, that to wear anything but that was rather strange to his sensibilities. It was, perhaps, one of the reasons he connected with the people - the only hint of his Sylvarian nobility being a silver necklace, and that of a torn, worn shirt that had once been plentiful fifty years prior. By all means, between the two men - Sir Roland was by far the better dressed.

He stands uncomfortably for a few moments - he was not used to being treated as his rank. He had spent the last fifty years in agonizing exile - meandering from place to place, and surviving off of alms, and by what he could trade. Caviar... champagne... these were things that were lost to him - lost to him, like his homeland and his crown.
"Sir Roland... of the Holy Empire of the Daeva."
He searches through his mind for a few moments.
"I am quite aware of your home country, of course. I visited it, as a young boy."
"Although I cannot quite recall reading your memoirs. It is, perhaps, as a result of the rather unfortunate exile which I have endured. The desert has few libraries, and the libraries that do exist are so thoroughly under-stocked. It seems, Sir Roland, that I indeed have much to 'catch-up' upon."
He sits down, somewhat uncomfortably - he was honestly more used to sitting upon a pillow to eat, as the Jundlandis did.
"And so, you have indeed come a long way, Sir Roland. The Daeva, as I recall, is rather distant from my... homeland. I would normally ask under what pretense you have arrived to my aid - but these are not normal times."
He looks around the room.
"Cannibal warlords... the country split apart... an Empire that isn't even human, kicking down the door. Madness."
He cautiously picked up a knife - waving it a little as to articulate his speech.
His soldiers as well, began to sit down in their allotted seats.
"I must admit, Sir, that upon seeing your invitation - I was, perhaps, more than a little suspicious. I am told of people vanishing in the night."
He smiles, as he speaks next.
"Regardless, it seems that has not yet come to pass."
"I must ask, of course, of what skill-set you offer? And, mind you - what do you perceive to be my intent?"

---

Havenbrook Province, along the border with Vaylenburgh Province
With the fall of Innsholm, the Innsholm Stalkers - now a part of Red Sektor - continued to abandon open positions, as they prepared to wage guerilla warfare - with some Communists having escaped the brutal Arakhkhari offensive into Vaylenburgh, these would join a burgeoning Communist haven along the coast. By mainly avoiding the highway, they could mostly avoid conflict for the time being - preparing to simply strike at logistical convoys, and to conduct partisan activities against both the Nationalists and against the North Sylvarians.

They were hard pressed, of course, to supply food, ammunition, anything of the sort - so they took to the most reasonable thing - raiding. By attacking logistics, one not only deprives the enemy of equipment, but attains it for oneself. When that wasn't an option, they would resolve to fishing along the coastline, or to hunting small game.

What was clear, however, was that Red Sektor planned to remain - creating a great many weapons caches, hidden safehouses dug into the Earth - the Revolution was not yet lost in their eyes, however, they did know that the wider war for the sake of Communism was likely over.

---

Siladen City
For another Communist, however, the Revolution was solely over.
The General Secretary of the People's Revolutionary Vanguard, Nebekanov, had languished in captivity. He had lost 20 pounds, withering away in a small 3 by 5 meter cell, with his only comforts being a metal slab as a bed, which also served as his table, and a single toilet.

He had frequently thought of why he had surrendered - why, oh why, had he cursed himself so? And always, it occurred to him that due to his surrender did mean the end of the war in Vaylenburgh - that civilians there had been fed - something more that he could humanly do.
The energy, however, had mostly vanished. He didn't so much as pace about his cell anymore - and all that had preoccupied the Communist was his diary. He had been provided with a small notebook, and a single pen. His early pages were mostly filled with anger - written upon the pages in bold, hateful strokes - but as the pages went on, they slowly grew pensive - guilty, even.

By the last few pages, he had fully lost his illusions of Revolution. Communism, in his view - it had only weakened the country, and rendered it vulnerable to the shackles now imposed upon it.
A pair of Civil Protection officers walked in the hallway outside - as they stopped at the simple steel door that formed the entrance to his 3x5 meter cell. With a callous hand, the lead officer slid open the metal viewport - watching the imprisoned communist.
"It is time for the trial."
Nebekanov paused from his writing, refusing to even look upon the collaborators.
But, soon enough, he would be forced to - as they opened the door, which turned with a creak.
The Officers wasted little time - before any trial of a war criminal, it was necessary to brutalize the prisoner. One officer got behind Nebekanov, in the same tired ritual which Nebekanov had grown used to - his many bruises being a reminder of that.
The other officer drew his Shock Baton - letting it extend, before striking the Communist directly in the belly - letting electricity course through his body.
Nebekanov screamed in agony with the strike - he had been more resilient in the past. Not now - not after he had been practically starved, repeatedly beaten, waken at ungodly hours of the night.

Afterwards - he was dragged - quite literally so, to a Prison transport van - the courthouse of the State of Northern Sylvaria was not far. It was a short drive, in the back of the windowless armored van - of course, fully restrained - Arakhkhari-made magnetically locked cuffs.

As the van pulled into the site for where the prisoners would be brought before trial - Nebekanov found himself resigned. Only mildly pushing against his restraints, before ceasing upon evidence of the futility of the matter.

After which case - the van doors were pulled open by Civil Protection - as he trudged out of the van, a Shock Baton to his back ushering him forwards. He looked up at the courthouse - once a symbol of Pre-War Sylvaria, before Sylvaria itself was ripped apart and - here - corrupted so thoroughly.

His approach was met with the scorn of the citizenry - it was, of course, only chosen 'loyal' citizens who were allowed to attend - hand picked by the ISI to create a demoralizing effect on the Communist, and to create a proper image for the video - as he trudged along, heckled by the crowd, and escorted by Civil Protection.

The courtroom itself was large - quite so, with marbled floors, and dark wooden walls and furniture - and the courtroom itself, kept rather dark. As he was ushered to sit down in the usual location for the defendant, notably, without any sort of legal representation. His prosecutors entered the room - carrying folders upon folders of 'evidence' of the wrongdoing of Nebekanov.
Nebekanov had no illusions of a fair trial - and all remaining doubt completely ended as the judge entered the room, and it became clear there would be no trial-by-jury - as the judge entered the room, her pale face and purple eyes visible even in the dark room.

Nebekanov didn't even care to look up, or to listen as her name was announced.
He already knew, from just that glance, that he was to be a dead man. It was a matter of time.

---

Southern Vaylenburgh
The rumbling in the forest could be heard for some distance - the shouts of the dying, and the last, choked words of the dead accompanying it - always followed by a gunshot - one for each anguished voice.

Shock Troopers - they were in the forests, gunning down the last remnants of the PRV in Vaylenburgh - capturing whoever surrendered, for a life held in 'community service' as reconstruction laborers to aid in the rebuilding of a broken Sylvaria.
Whoever else was simply shot - discarded as carelessly as could be.

However, the Shock Troopers, after having liquidated another small Communist group attempting to flee southwards came across a fence - it didn't take long to realize what this fence was. It was the provincial border. The implications were not difficult to feel - as they continued to march along the forest, keeping watch over the provincial border - at Havenbrook province, on the other side. This, they considered, was to be the border with 'free' Sylvaria. The South Vaylenburgh offensive was... complete.

It took several hours afterwards to sweep the remaining forest, and to secure the provincial border completely - as checkpoints would be established on every road leading south.

At last - with the exception of Nayden - the whole province was in North Sylvarian control.

---

Havenbrook
Kalden's hand shook, as he put down the phone. The DSM had done it.

Radiation had spilled across the lands North of Point Overlook - cutting access off to the western part of Sylvanthol, likely, for decades to come.
Preliminary probing, done via cheap RC cars with geiger counters strapped onto them, had measured radiation in lethal doses across the entire approach north. Whoever would go there - would die, in only a matter of time.

Something perhaps more critical, was the fact that there were Eurasians advance scouts, and several Nationalist advance scouts, who were now trapped on the other side of a very serious amount of radiation - not to mention any homes in the area.
An immediate evacuation order was issued by the Provisional Government for anyone still listening, for the entirety of northern Point Overlook province - with advisories put in place in Point Overlook itself, and for the entire province, constant radiation monitoring would be undertaken. This was, of course, damage control - but in truth, there was little he could do if the wind suddenly changed directions. Supplies of CNBR equipment would be shipped to the province, for soldiers - and civil defense gas masks, which had been cracked out of cold-war era storage sites - most of whom had expired filters, or torn rubber - would be distributed, for at least the appearance of doing something to protect the citizenry.

However, Kalden was not pleased. He picked up the phone once again - calling the Eurasian embassy in Havenbrook.
He didn't bother with a greeting, as he spoke angrily.

"I was given the distinct impression that the Dirty Bombs were dealt with."
"I understand you had committed to this raid. I understand that, I do - but this is a failure that Sylvaria will feel for centuries. I am glad, however, that at the least, you had eliminated their remaining stockpile. They played their last hand. Now, I am forced to play the only card I have left. I want you to commit to the drive on Sylvanthol - a redeployment is necessary. Time is of the essence - and I have no way of knowing how long we have to secure as much of the province as possible before we have to stop. My air units will assist."

[The Daeva]

From every television station, radio, and device in North Sylvaria - a blaring alarm would play.

Code: Select all

MINISTRY OF INFORMATION
CITIZEN ALERT
==============================
HEIGHTENED RADIATION DETECTED
DO NOT PANIC.
THIS IS NOT A DRILL.
SUSPECTED DEPLOYMENT OF RADIOLOGICAL WEAPONRY.
REMAIN INDOORS. CLOSE WINDOWS AND DOORS.

CIVIL PROTECTION WILL PROVIDE GAS MASKS. DO NOT PANIC.
THE SITUATION IS BEING CONTROLLED.

TRUST IN THE INTENDANT.
ORDER IS RETAINED.


New Vvarreach

A Sophisticated Soirée
Theme: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=2AZOknKotVc
New Vvareach

The old abandoned bar was practically transformed. While on the outside it was the same, on the inside it had quite the makeover. It was generally much fancier due to Sir Roland’s immense luggage, with even such luxuries as a phonograph playing classical music. As the Royal approached, Hargrave and two of the Shamash Securities Operators approached him. The butler bowed deeply. “Hello, your highness. I am Hargrave, personal valet to the honorable Sir Roland.” He says. “If you will follow me, sir.” He says in his affable monotone as he leads the small party deeper into the bar.

A banquet table had been set up, with Sir Roland sitting at the head in his uniform. His medals gleamed with a coat of fresh polish, and his Sabre hung at his side giving him an altogether dashing and roguish look. He bowed in a rather dramatic manner. “Your majesty! I am so glad you were able to join me for my little get together.” He says affably as one of the porters begins placing table settings for the Princes troops, the delicious smells of steak and seasoning filling the room. “I am Sir Roland Acar, Gentleman Explorer. I hail from the Holy Empire of the Daeva, a rather powerful nation. And I have decided to lend my unique skill set to your cause, sir, in order to put you on the throne you deserve.” He says this so genuinely it is hard not to believe him. “You may have read my memoirs, although I won’t fault you if you haven’t. Champagne?”

The Crown Prince was, by contrast, considerably less well dressed - he had worn the wear of the desert for so long, that to wear anything but that was rather strange to his sensibilities. It was, perhaps, one of the reasons he connected with the people - the only hint of his Sylvarian nobility being a silver necklace, and that of a torn, worn shirt that had once been plentiful fifty years prior. By all means, between the two men - Sir Roland was by far the better dressed.

He stands uncomfortably for a few moments - he was not used to being treated as his rank. He had spent the last fifty years in agonizing exile - meandering from place to place, and surviving off of alms, and by what he could trade. Caviar... champagne... these were things that were lost to him - lost to him, like his homeland and his crown.
"Sir Roland... of the Holy Empire of the Daeva."
He searches through his mind for a few moments.
"I am quite aware of your home country, of course. I visited it, as a young boy."
"Although I cannot quite recall reading your memoirs. It is, perhaps, as a result of the rather unfortunate exile which I have endured. The desert has few libraries, and the libraries that do exist are so thoroughly under-stocked. It seems, Sir Roland, that I indeed have much to 'catch-up' upon."
He sits down, somewhat uncomfortably - he was honestly more used to sitting upon a pillow to eat, as the Jundlandis did.
"And so, you have indeed come a long way, Sir Roland. The Daeva, as I recall, is rather distant from my... homeland. I would normally ask under what pretense you have arrived to my aid - but these are not normal times."
He looks around the room.
"Cannibal warlords... the country split apart... an Empire that isn't even human, kicking down the door. Madness."
He cautiously picked up a knife - waving it a little as to articulate his speech.
His soldiers as well, began to sit down in their allotted seats.
"I must admit, Sir, that upon seeing your invitation - I was, perhaps, more than a little suspicious. I am told of people vanishing in the night."
He smiles, as he speaks next.
"Regardless, it seems that has not yet come to pass."
"I must ask, of course, of what skill-set you offer? And, mind you - what do you perceive to be my intent?"

---

Havenbrook Province, along the border with Vaylenburgh Province
With the fall of Innsholm, the Innsholm Stalkers - now a part of Red Sektor - continued to abandon open positions, as they prepared to wage guerilla warfare - with some Communists having escaped the brutal Arakhkhari offensive into Vaylenburgh, these would join a burgeoning Communist haven along the coast. By mainly avoiding the highway, they could mostly avoid conflict for the time being - preparing to simply strike at logistical convoys, and to conduct partisan activities against both the Nationalists and against the North Sylvarians.

They were hard pressed, of course, to supply food, ammunition, anything of the sort - so they took to the most reasonable thing - raiding. By attacking logistics, one not only deprives the enemy of equipment, but attains it for oneself. When that wasn't an option, they would resolve to fishing along the coastline, or to hunting small game.

What was clear, however, was that Red Sektor planned to remain - creating a great many weapons caches, hidden safehouses dug into the Earth - the Revolution was not yet lost in their eyes, however, they did know that the wider war for the sake of Communism was likely over.

---

Siladen City
For another Communist, however, the Revolution was solely over.
The General Secretary of the People's Revolutionary Vanguard, Nebekanov, had languished in captivity. He had lost 20 pounds, withering away in a small 3 by 5 meter cell, with his only comforts being a metal slab as a bed, which also served as his table, and a single toilet.

He had frequently thought of why he had surrendered - why, oh why, had he cursed himself so? And always, it occurred to him that due to his surrender did mean the end of the war in Vaylenburgh - that civilians there had been fed - something more that he could humanly do.
The energy, however, had mostly vanished. He didn't so much as pace about his cell anymore - and all that had preoccupied the Communist was his diary. He had been provided with a small notebook, and a single pen. His early pages were mostly filled with anger - written upon the pages in bold, hateful strokes - but as the pages went on, they slowly grew pensive - guilty, even.

By the last few pages, he had fully lost his illusions of Revolution. Communism, in his view - it had only weakened the country, and rendered it vulnerable to the shackles now imposed upon it.
A pair of Civil Protection officers walked in the hallway outside - as they stopped at the simple steel door that formed the entrance to his 3x5 meter cell. With a callous hand, the lead officer slid open the metal viewport - watching the imprisoned communist.
"It is time for the trial."
Nebekanov paused from his writing, refusing to even look upon the collaborators.
But, soon enough, he would be forced to - as they opened the door, which turned with a creak.
The Officers wasted little time - before any trial of a war criminal, it was necessary to brutalize the prisoner. One officer got behind Nebekanov, in the same tired ritual which Nebekanov had grown used to - his many bruises being a reminder of that.
The other officer drew his Shock Baton - letting it extend, before striking the Communist directly in the belly - letting electricity course through his body.
Nebekanov screamed in agony with the strike - he had been more resilient in the past. Not now - not after he had been practically starved, repeatedly beaten, waken at ungodly hours of the night.

Afterwards - he was dragged - quite literally so, to a Prison transport van - the courthouse of the State of Northern Sylvaria was not far. It was a short drive, in the back of the windowless armored van - of course, fully restrained - Arakhkhari-made magnetically locked cuffs.

As the van pulled into the site for where the prisoners would be brought before trial - Nebekanov found himself resigned. Only mildly pushing against his restraints, before ceasing upon evidence of the futility of the matter.

After which case - the van doors were pulled open by Civil Protection - as he trudged out of the van, a Shock Baton to his back ushering him forwards. He looked up at the courthouse - once a symbol of Pre-War Sylvaria, before Sylvaria itself was ripped apart and - here - corrupted so thoroughly.

His approach was met with the scorn of the citizenry - it was, of course, only chosen 'loyal' citizens who were allowed to attend - hand picked by the ISI to create a demoralizing effect on the Communist, and to create a proper image for the video - as he trudged along, heckled by the crowd, and escorted by Civil Protection.

The courtroom itself was large - quite so, with marbled floors, and dark wooden walls and furniture - and the courtroom itself, kept rather dark. As he was ushered to sit down in the usual location for the defendant, notably, without any sort of legal representation. His prosecutors entered the room - carrying folders upon folders of 'evidence' of the wrongdoing of Nebekanov.
Nebekanov had no illusions of a fair trial - and all remaining doubt completely ended as the judge entered the room, and it became clear there would be no trial-by-jury - as the judge entered the room, her pale face and purple eyes visible even in the dark room.

Nebekanov didn't even care to look up, or to listen as her name was announced.
He already knew, from just that glance, that he was to be a dead man. It was a matter of time.

---

Southern Vaylenburgh
The rumbling in the forest could be heard for some distance - the shouts of the dying, and the last, choked words of the dead accompanying it - always followed by a gunshot - one for each anguished voice.

Shock Troopers - they were in the forests, gunning down the last remnants of the PRV in Vaylenburgh - capturing whoever surrendered, for a life held in 'community service' as reconstruction laborers to aid in the rebuilding of a broken Sylvaria.
Whoever else was simply shot - discarded as carelessly as could be.

However, the Shock Troopers, after having liquidated another small Communist group attempting to flee southwards came across a fence - it didn't take long to realize what this fence was. It was the provincial border. The implications were not difficult to feel - as they continued to march along the forest, keeping watch over the provincial border - at Havenbrook province, on the other side. This, they considered, was to be the border with 'free' Sylvaria. The South Vaylenburgh offensive was... complete.

It took several hours afterwards to sweep the remaining forest, and to secure the provincial border completely - as checkpoints would be established on every road leading south.

At last - with the exception of Nayden - the whole province was in North Sylvarian control.

---

Havenbrook
Kalden's hand shook, as he put down the phone. The DSM had done it.

Radiation had spilled across the lands North of Point Overlook - cutting access off to the western part of Sylvanthol, likely, for decades to come.
Preliminary probing, done via cheap RC cars with geiger counters strapped onto them, had measured radiation in lethal doses across the entire approach north. Whoever would go there - would die, in only a matter of time.

Something perhaps more critical, was the fact that there were Eurasians advance scouts, and several Nationalist advance scouts, who were now trapped on the other side of a very serious amount of radiation - not to mention any homes in the area.
An immediate evacuation order was issued by the Provisional Government for anyone still listening, for the entirety of northern Point Overlook province - with advisories put in place in Point Overlook itself, and for the entire province, constant radiation monitoring would be undertaken. This was, of course, damage control - but in truth, there was little he could do if the wind suddenly changed directions. Supplies of CNBR equipment would be shipped to the province, for soldiers - and civil defense gas masks, which had been cracked out of cold-war era storage sites - most of whom had expired filters, or torn rubber - would be distributed, for at least the appearance of doing something to protect the citizenry.

However, Kalden was not pleased. He picked up the phone once again - calling the Eurasian embassy in Havenbrook.
He didn't bother with a greeting, as he spoke angrily.

"I was given the distinct impression that the Dirty Bombs were dealt with."
"I understand you had committed to this raid. I understand that, I do - but this is a failure that Sylvaria will feel for centuries. I am glad, however, that at the least, you had eliminated their remaining stockpile. They played their last hand. Now, I am forced to play the only card I have left. I want you to commit to the drive on Sylvanthol - a redeployment is necessary. Time is of the essence - and I have no way of knowing how long we have to secure as much of the province as possible before we have to stop. My air units will assist."

New Vvarreach

Sir Roland studied his handsome features in his wine glass for a second, as if thinking of how best to respond.

“Coming a long way is my specialty, your highness.” He says finally, with a dashing smile. “You ask for my skill set. I must admit I was hoping my reputation would precede me, but…” he shrugs with a charmingly rueful look. “There is some benefits in obscurity, yes? I am something of an Omnidisciplinarian, one might say.” He says, standing up, his medals flashing. “I was declared a Hero of Daeva for a reason. I have climbed Mount Everest, fought warlords in Tibet, wrestled tigers in India, disbanded a cartoonishly evil spy ring operating in my own country, carved my way through opium smugglers. I have bagged tracked and stuffed every rare beast from here to Borneo. I have been from the highest peaks and the deepest caves, High Society to the seedy underbelly. So you ask for my skill set, sir?” He asks, and a porter carefully stacks a nearly four foot tall stack of books on the table in front of the prince.

“Consider this my resume.” He says with a smile. “All true, I hold myself to certain standards. I am sorry if this sounds pompous, but I am quite good at most things. I am an expert shot, award winning fencer, a deft hand in a cockpit, and have enough experience to successfully improvise if it comes to it. Besides, I have also brought some notably less lauded but still competent help along with me.” He says, gesturing to the Mercs. “All I ask for in return is the right to immortalize our story.”

He pauses. “I am truly the best Daeva has to offer. I am all your getting from the international community, as far as I can tell. Luckily for you… I am all you need.”

Shame he was wrong about that last part…

Greyhound Theme

The Pound, Converted Oil Rig, Mediterranean Sea

The Grigori helicopter roared towards the fortress of Greyhound. A quasi mercenary force, owned and operated by Shahzadeh Jehu. Still, that particular member of the royal family was only royal by the barest minimum, being an illegitimate.

The two Grigori in the helicopter were less than thrilled to be dealing with ‘The Mutt,’ a derogatory nickname for the young Shahzadeh. “So, is Greyhound really the best idea? Surely our own Special Operations Groups are more than sufficient.” The younger agent said nervously. “It’s perfect. They are elite operators with a sterling success record, are loyal to us, and who knows…” the older agent smiled. “Maybe the bastard bastard will die in that backwater and leave the succession of the throne a tad less chaotic.”

The chopper landed on the converted oil rig with a metallic thud. As the two agents disembarked, they passed by the Mercs training. Shooting at lifesized targets, sparring with knives, practicing a strange martial art… the Prodigal Son himself stood on a raised platform, watching his men’s growing prowess with a satisfied smile. His lower face hidden under a balaclava, his most striking feature is his two tone eyes. One Chakravarti grey, the other blue. A stark reminder of his heritage.

The older agent waves to him. “Your highness? The Scarred Eye requires your services.”

This day just got better and better.

Later

The Kingfisher was a nifty plane. Named after a smuggler acquaintance of Shahzadeh Jehu from his criminal days, the Kingfisher was a modified cargo plane that was designed to fool sensor technologies. While it could still be seen by line of sight, that was hardly a problem once one got high enough. Greyhound loaded the VTOL plane with ammunition and the various supplies needed to wage a war.

“Alright, boys. Ready to restore order to a war torn hellhole? Real heroic stuff, even though we got paid to do it.” The Shahzadeh says to his men as the plane takes off. Hopefully it will pass undetected through the several powers blockading Sylvaria…

[The Eur-asian Federation]

Eurasian Embassy, Havenbrook

Each of the men felt something different. Apathy, rage, despondence. The Balt sighed, rubbing his face. The Uyghur fumed in anger as he read the transcript of Kalden's call. The Ukrainian sifted through several folders.

"This is gonna be a nightmare." The Balt spat out.

"A nightmare? You think this is a nightmare? Are you fucking dumb!?" The Uyghur pounded his fists on the table.

"You know what this means?" He points to the transcript, throwing it on the table.

"This means our guys are gonna have to get as fast as possible to Sylvanthol. Just let themselves get massacred by those god damn commie partisans." He gritted his teeth, "Fuck. Me."

"It might not be after all." The Ukrainian said, continuing to sift through his folders.

"Our operatives have infiltrated Sylvanhaym thoroughly, we got guys working as people of power. Bureaucrats, journalists, people who control the flow of information who - if disloyal - could cause some serious damage." The Ukrainian placed down the folder he was holding, leaning in.

"What I'm saying is: We can begin operations. My guys have sent a few manila envelopes to a few guys we know for sure are corrupt and will take any chance they can get to get some cash. The cash is fake, of course, but we're asking them to do stuff that seems typical at the surface." He paused for a moment, taking out a document from his folder. "Take this guy for instance."

The Uyghur and Balt leaned in, looking at the attached photograph. "Middle-aged, married, 2 children, and manager of a meat packing plant. We sent him an envelope with some cash and told him this: Give us 50% of the chicken made at the plant and we'll give you a 75% cut on the profits. Of course, we aren't selling the chicken, we're dumping it in the ocean but he doesn't know since the money's coming in." The Ukrainian smirked.

"Now imagine this happening in several more plants for a plethora of other goods, and then people will start wondering why the shelves at their supermarkets are empty." The Uyghur was clearly less angry now, raising a brow at this statement.

"So you're trying to institutionalize corruption within society on the island to indirectly destabilize Vaul?" The Uyghur leaned back. "Clever."

"Exactly. Better yet, our guys who infiltrated the press are pumping out articles critiquing Vaul and the Coalition. It's a sentiment shared by many folks on the island, we're just adding fuel to the fire."

"We meet tomorrow. I'll send a request to HQ for more men. Same time, same place. Now go." The two other men got up out of their seats. The Ukrainians triumphant march out of the room was contrasted by the Balt's sheepish shuffle.

Sighing, the Uyghur sifted through some of the documents on the room. A picture caught his eye, it was a picture of that fanatic leader. He stewed in anger at the mans smug face before practically spitting venom at the photograph.

"Shithead."

---

Approach to Sylvanthol

As news of Kalden's demands came in, the brass knew they would need to push on to Sylvanthol at a dangerous pace to save face. The original plane to beat back the communists and secure their supply lines slowly wouldn't cut it, they had to hope and pray that Kalden's men would be able to secure the roads for their trucks. For the communist cells that preferred combat in open battle, the state of their equipment and numbers either led them to decimation when faced with cutting-edge modern equipment or to pursuing gureilla warfare.

For the troops on the ground, the constant harassment from gureillas led to a sustained deforestation campaign to deprive the partisans from cover especially near roadways. Yet as far as the brass were concerned, the supply issue was Kalden's to handle, not theirs. After all, he asked them to push onto Sylvanthol with haste, so he should be the one tackling the communists. As the battle on the ground raged, they got closer and closer to Sylvanthol by the hour, yet the aerial front was an entirely different beast.

With the communists having practically zero AA equipment, and with (command assuming that) the Coalition was unwilling to fire on an officially neutral aircraft, the lone Su-57 assisting the expedition found itself raining fire down on cannibal-controlled areas of Sylvanthol. However the Ministry of the Economy, National Library, and Ministry of Defense were all exempted from the bombing. Why? Well, any records left behind might prove useful to the operatives on Sylvanhaym, and those Mi-26's might come in handy in regards to ferrying troops from one end of the city to the other. If the Eurasian's could get those three buildings, they could turn them into impenetrable fortresses and bypass the grip that the Coalition had on the center of the city. Perhaps then they could use those records to reveal some scandalous info about the pre-war government.

---

Moscow

"They did what? To our allies? Well then get up down here, we ain't gonna let ourselves get kicked around!" The President yelled down the receiver and slammed it down as he waited for several minutes before his Minister of Defense walked inside.

"Sorry for the delay, Anatoly. Traffic and all." His minister grinned as he walked over to one of the chairs opposite the President's desk and took a seat.

"Ok, listen up. This is a big problem. Real big." The President leaned in, his face unchanging as stone.

"Noone messes with me, noone messes with our army, and more importantly noone messes with our allies. So here's what we gotta do." The President reached over for a 1.5 liter bottle of Minsk vodka. "But, before we talk about. Let's have a drink first." The President reached over, grabbing two shot glasses as he filled up both glasses.

"Cheers." His minister said as he grabbed a glass, guzzling it down as he did the same.

"Man, that's good. Ok! Now, that thing I wanted to talk to you about." The President closed the bottle, putting it on the side of the desk alongside the glasses.

"That bomb really fucked things up, so that Kalden must be pissed at us. We told him about the raid, right?" His minister replied, "Sure did."

"Ok, so here's what I'm thinking. We got some old MiG-23's and MiG-27's. He won't be needin' any interceptor aircraft since those commies don't have good anti-air." The President raised his brow in a well? expression. "See where I'm going with this?"

"Sure do, how many you wanna give him?" His minister reached for the glass of vodka, pouring himself another shot.

"We aren't giving him planes for free, Andrei. He needs to start paying up, just to make it seem like his government is the legitimate one. People need to see how we're treating him as another nation, how we're preforming monetary transactions, that kinda stuff." Clearing his throat a bit, he continued "It may not seem like it, but my political science degree isn't just for show."

His minister downed the vodka, "So, how many you wanna offer and at what price?"

"Simple. 50 units of each, we'll give him a real steep discount: 500,000 Rubles per plane since he's an ally. We can throw in instructors to teach his pilots, too."

"Sounds good to me, I'll tell the guys in Foreign Affairs to relay the offer." The President interrupted him as he was getting out of his seat, "Before you go, one last shot."

"Sounds good to me." He grabbed the bottle again, filling up their two glasses.

"Cheers."

[Arakhkhar]

Havenbrook
The disaster along the provincial border had, at the least, one positive side effect. With the complete withdrawal of the Divine Salvation Movement, all forces that had been accorded there could be rotated to the capital. For Colonel Guss, however, and for the Consortian marines that had been starving there - the war was over.

However, with a period of inactivity from the Consortian government - a silence that seemed to grow ever-present, and more deafening. After the collapse of jamming, nearly a month ago, many of those marines had wished desperately to receive messages from home.
But the silence was deafening. Agonizing, even - they had lost so many, to the DSM, or to cholera, or to simple hunger.

Colonel Guss, however, would finally return from his long vigil at Point Overlook - brought back to the capital, and hailed as a hero.
General Kalden spoke, as Colonel Guss stood beside him - a crowd had awaited them, to witness the 'sentinel of Point Overlook,' whose vigil did not break.

"My countrymen."
Kalden took a moment to take his breath, before speaking.
"I come before you now as your leader - but not as the man of the hour."
"My friends - this is a war. A brutal affair, in so many ways - that we have seen such horrors inflicted upon our nation - scars that, perhaps, may never fully heal."
"However, it is in these moments that the strength of a nation is tested, irrespective of ideology - it is in these dark days, that courage - honor - sacrifice, more than we could possibly know, light the way forward. Allow me to present to you one such torchbearer - who, with the aid of such fine men as the Consortians, and the Eurasians, helped light the path for a brighter future."
"May I present a hero of Sylvaria - Colonel Amin Vestaros Guss."
The crowd begins to clap, and cheer for the beleaguered colonel, who steps forward to address the crowd. The colonel himself was an older man - and was mere weeks from retirement before the Civil War broke out.
"Friends."
He took a moment to take in the sight of the crowd - as he closed his eyes for a moment - the cheering, in his mind, brought back memories only of screams of the suffering - the weeping over the dead. As he opened his eyes, he saw before him thousands of the Sylvarian living - and as he closed them, thousands more of the Sylvarian dead.
Shaking these images from his mind, he stood to address the crowd.
"I stand among you, as a man who has done little more than defend his home. This damnable war... it has cost so much."
He looks down a little.
"So much."
"I shall not speak of my own glory, today. I was just a man in the wrong place."
"Of those who died in Point Overlook's defense - I can not be certain. For those untold dead, I can offer only my gratitude - and, I wish for everlasting peace for those untold civilian dead who died under this most cruel effect of war."
"I shall ask for no monument, for I am wholly undeserving. The finest monument to the sacrifices we made, would be a monument to peace - that never again should so many die for so little."
He withdrew from the microphone. Kalden was surprisingly pleased with his impromptu speech - albeit, somewhat embarrassed by his seeming humility, as Kalden now came to speak once more.
"Moving words - from a man who has suffered a great loss. Yet, today, we stand here not in defeat - but in triumph. That the cowards who had attacked Point Overlook have now seen fit to disappear - it is a pity, only that they could not be punished for their crimes, of which there are a great many."
"Mister Guss - and his retinue, despite serving under the Republic's flag, have bled justly for their country. They did so without expectation of some reward, without any expectation of survival - they fought to save their home from a malicious force, and they held out, against all odds."
"To Colonel Guss - I, and all of Sylvaria, have no need to declare you a hero - for your actions have been heroic. Your heroic deeds, and the deeds of those men who died in the defense of Point Overlook will be known for eternity."
He produced a medal from his pocket - Colonel Guss hesitantly stepped forward.
"Amin Vastaros Guss - I hereby declare you, with the powers vested in me, to be a Hero of Sylvaria - and, it will be your mark, to bear the banner of a Defender of Point Overlook."
He turns to the crowd.
"To the defenders of Point Overlook - Consortian, Eurasian, Sylvarian, and those foreign nations in the Coalition which have aided in their struggle - I can offer my gratitude. And for those trapped in the city - your sacrifice will be recognized - each man shall receive such a mark, and his prosperity assured. For those men who are no longer with us - that they would bear this mark posthumously, and that their families would be granted a lien in memory of that sacrifice."

His promises would be fulfilled - but now, there remained a humanitarian crisis in the city of Point Overlook. Although many had been evacuated, many others remained in the city - people were still dying from cholera, and from malaria - food and clean water remained in short supply.

The Provisional Government, which had once been geared for war - now had to deal with its consequences. Havenbrook's capture was not nearly as bad, seeing as how it was not facing a lengthy siege, and was mostly developed - but this cruel affair had effectively destroyed Point Overlook.

In the aftermath of the war - and after the dust had settled - the city would have to be reconstructed in full.
For the moment, however, they had to contend with the epidemic - and attempt to prevent a famine.

---

New Vvarreach

New Vvarreach

Sir Roland studied his handsome features in his wine glass for a second, as if thinking of how best to respond.

“Coming a long way is my specialty, your highness.” He says finally, with a dashing smile. “You ask for my skill set. I must admit I was hoping my reputation would precede me, but…” he shrugs with a charmingly rueful look. “There is some benefits in obscurity, yes? I am something of an Omnidisciplinarian, one might say.” He says, standing up, his medals flashing. “I was declared a Hero of Daeva for a reason. I have climbed Mount Everest, fought warlords in Tibet, wrestled tigers in India, disbanded a cartoonishly evil spy ring operating in my own country, carved my way through opium smugglers. I have bagged tracked and stuffed every rare beast from here to Borneo. I have been from the highest peaks and the deepest caves, High Society to the seedy underbelly. So you ask for my skill set, sir?” He asks, and a porter carefully stacks a nearly four foot tall stack of books on the table in front of the prince.

“Consider this my resume.” He says with a smile. “All true, I hold myself to certain standards. I am sorry if this sounds pompous, but I am quite good at most things. I am an expert shot, award winning fencer, a deft hand in a cockpit, and have enough experience to successfully improvise if it comes to it. Besides, I have also brought some notably less lauded but still competent help along with me.” He says, gesturing to the Mercs. “All I ask for in return is the right to immortalize our story.”

He pauses. “I am truly the best Daeva has to offer. I am all your getting from the international community, as far as I can tell. Luckily for you… I am all you need.”

Shame he was wrong about that last part…

The Prince Salaros hmmphed.
"I do believe that 'as far as you can tell' is not very far indeed."
He spoke rather jokingly - perhaps, a vulgarity borne of his time in the desert.
"The Emerstari have so graciously offered riflemen to my cause, as have other members of the so-called Coalition."
He speaks more seriously.
"Although only you have come so far, to meet with me - that shows something - some form of devotion to your mission. That is something I can duly appreciate."
"The fact is, is that we are not facing opium smugglers, or a spy ring. We do face warlords, true, but certainly not Everest. Although it is, again, signs of your dedication - of your strength - I believe you fail to recognize what sort of war this is."
The Prince ate some of the steak.
"Tell me. At the moment, I have the guarantee of the Intendant Varos that he will not invade."
He pauses for but a moment.
"That guarantee is, at the moment, nothing but a set of words exchanged via a letter. If he - or his masters - earnestly decided that I be exterminated, and this city with it, he would waste no time in doing it."
He cut into a piece of steak.
"Tell me, Sir Roland. I have an army of around 1,000, give or take. There are 2,000 Emerstari light infantry who wish to come to my aid."
He eats a piece of steak.
"I have 2 aircraft, as well."
He swallows.
"By my estimates, North Sylvaria alone has 50,000 active duty infantry. Mechanized - and covered by over 200 Arakhkhari aircraft. And across the border, we estimate that there are 7 Arakhkhari divisions that are ready to cross the border - and one, that is already in."
"Setting aside that, I still do not know whether the leader of the so-called Provisional Government would prove amenable. What exists of our intelligence service claims 40,000 - with armor, mechanized, and air support. Inferior to Arakhkhar's interests, but infinitely superior to our own."
"The fact is, Sir Roland - this is not an affair that can be solved with but a single bullet, or with a sly smile - it is a war. A war unlike anything yet seen in Sylvaria. So tell me, Sir Roland - how would you prosecute such a war? Or, better yet - how would you... prosecute peace?"

---

Siladen City
The trial proceeded in a sort of grim procession.

Charge after charge - some faked, some earnest. He had been given so many charges - that the minimum sentence was death.
"Conspiracy to revolt... treason... murder... theft of private property... attack on a Civil Protection officer... conspiracy to riot... arson..."
The charges droned on and on, in a sort of monotony.

There seemed no end to them - each new charge being yet another stake into Nebekanov, until at last he could feel no more - letting them simply stab into him, without resistant. He offered not a word in his defense, beyond the occasional cold glare. There was little more he could do other than that, being the prisoner of such a regime - and there was indeed little he could accomplish but those stares.

He didn't even care to hear the sentence - he was already so convinced it would be death, that it was hardly worth listening to.
That was, of course, until he realized that 'execution' had never been stated.

As the judge finished reading the charges, she spoke aloud.
"It is the finding of this court that Ivan Nebakanov is guilty of all of the aforementioned charges."
She read from her paper.
"Sentence to be determined at a later date."

---

OOC
My apologies that I could not touch upon Sylvanthol or Sylvanhaym today - a number of IRL things got in the way of writing for everyone's favorite hellhole. I will address these locations tomorrow.

[The Eur-asian Federation]

Joint Military Base Istomin, Sylvarian Mainland

The sound of machinery thumped and twisted inside the walls of the base. The sweat of the workers mixed with the grime and soot of the soil and machinery. With the arrival of more jets from the Motherland as part of the expedition, getting the airport up and online was imperative. So much so that all work on the port was halted, now all the raw materials and workers were toiling to construct hangars, a dedicated chainlink fence to surround the runways to prevent ground collision incidents, and all the other amenities that an airbase might need.

In terms of the facilities for the troopers, they were largely done aside from a few minor adjustments. Garages for vehicles, barracks for the troops, a dedicated area of the base cordoned off exclusively for general training exercises and to simulate urban warfare, modeled off an area in Havenbrook. Now the 202nd could work on their contingency plans in case the worst happened to Kalden for any reason. Perhaps once the underground areas of the base were completed they could include full virtual reality training simulations.

Of course, Kalden's navy would get the short-end of the stick as the brass didn't see much immediate benefit in prioritizing the naval base. The port might as well have been a glorified shipyard from the 40's, but to the brass it would do for now. The port in its current state could - of course - preform minor repairs on small vessels, perhaps if operating at full efficiency it could service frigates or even a small carrier. For now the skeleton naval crew would have to make due with railing-less drydocks.

---

Approach to Sylvanthol

The shock and awe combined with a concentrated attack on the major roadways had secured the supply lines for now at the very least. Unless Kalden's men clamped down tight on the commie bastards, a withdrawal would be necessary in order not jeopardize the safety of the 5,000 or so men and their equipment. Depriving the communists of cover near the roadways would lessen the effectiveness of their ambushes, and frequent bombing of the communist held-countryside by those new jets would be imperative to slowing down their efforts for long enough.

The drive on Sylvanthol would be smooth-sailing from now on, but securing the city proper would be another challenge. One major advantage they had were in terms of logistics if Kalden was able to secure the supply lines, after all the Coalition was (according to their intelligence) using the airport to supply their troops. Meaning heavy equipment would flow in very slowly, and without any heavy equipment the Coalition would pay dearly if they made any wrong moves. Of course, that was to be avoided at all costs, they had their objectives and a headon fight with the Coalition would do nothing but strengthen Arakhkhar at the expense of both sides.

Once the Ministry of the Economy was secured, driving around the Coalition via the south-west or airborne operations to capture select buildings would be smooth sailing from there. Those stories of ex-soldiers turned cannibals were likely exaggerated anyways, and they'd be far away from any subways or metro tunnels. Even then, indiscriminate use of flamethrowers would be able to clear out the bastard even if it would be through nationalist troops as a proxy. For now their orders were simple, capture the eastern-Southside of the city and secure their other objectives from then on. Now or never.

[Arakhkhar]

Siladen City
The Principality of Arakhkhar was, of course, not one to rest on its laurels. The development of the captured territories was a growing necessity - as was the need to more closely integrate North Sylvaria into the framework of the Principality.

Although North Sylvaria was, legally, only a protectorate - plans were being put together to turn it into a full colony state - or, in Arakhkhari terminology, an Intendancy. And, already - these plans were being facilitated in part. The first part of this was, of course, establishing the jurisdiction of Imperial Inquisitors to prosecute at will. The second, of course, was the complete and utter reorganization of society to better accommodate Arakhkhari settlement.

This process had already begun, in truth - as an Intendant had already been installed. The next step was to begin to reconstruct the civil administration - to this end, the Intendant would appoint individuals to preside over numbered districts which would be comprised of territories from the old provincial model that had existed under the Republic. Each would be governed by a so-called 'Corrector,' who would answer to the Intendant. However, to prevent rebellion - Civil Protection and the military would remain independent of the districts, instead, answering to the Intendant as their commander-in-chief, although, in practice, answering to a general-staff comprised of North Sylvarian Commanders, with heavy 'advice' provided by Arakhkhari advisors.
Civil Protection would also answer to a similar General Staff - albeit, kept separate from the military - coordinated together by 'Central Command.'

The military, itself, was slowly being organized into one following the Arakhkhari model - as old ranks were effectively scrapped, as they instituted the Ordinal system at an infantry level.

But, all of these were mere institutional changes - what was to follow was cultural, and indeed, population changes.

In the northern part of the province - the first hundred Arakhkhari settlers arrived on North Sylvarian soil. They came with their families, and some, with their slaves - as they found homes already built for them in North Sylvaria. They would be necessary for managing the occupation - in the various economic projects that would prepare the nation for eventual sublimation and integration. Not to mention in the actual reconstruction of the country - or in the various massive profits that could be made from these tasks.

---

Veksilgorov
The last phases of the preparation of Operation Eminent Rise were nearing completion. Shock Troopers had been assigned their tasks, and exercises done well in advance - the Principality was preparing for a short, quick landing - one to quickly secure the site for a naval base and its immediate perimeter.

For this matter, aircraft that had been accorded to bombing cannibals in Sylvanthol, or doing close air-support in Nayden, had been redirected to support the naval landing. Artillery and ballistic missile units in the entire district were placed on high-alertness - as were airbases in Veksilgorov itself.

Throughout the operation, operational security had been something kept somewhat guarded - however, even with these measures, the Coalition would be unable to ignore the buildup. It was either that Arakhkhar planned some sort of escalation to the war - or, that they planned a naval landing, or that it might simply be to scare the Coalition. However, this too would have to be dispelled.
A large volume of communications would seem to indicate an invasion of some other small island country - Invaldia, to the southeast, which recently suffered from a famine brought on by the outbreak of some strange new blight that effectively ruined the entire year's harvest.

That was, of course, an entirely plausible result - and it would even have implications for Sylvaria. If Invaldia fell, which it surely would to an Arakhkhari invasion, it would give them the effective means and ports by which to cut off access entirely to Sylvaria - effective domination of every maritime route in or out of the bay.

The volume of communications would, of course, be seen as suspicious - so encryption was maintained. Rather, scouting aircraft would continue to fly off the Invaldian coast - as if to menace it. Every indication was to be made of an imminent invasion.
Although this was a ruse, they indeed intend to actually invade it later, so these preparations actually worked both ways.

---

Northern Sylvanthol
The reconstruction of civil order would have to wait in the capital - for the battle still raged on in a dozen places. For one, efforts would have to be made to secure the eastern end of the city - to finally end that front, and with it, to bring troops allocated there to bare against the west. And, although it had been struck by Hispaniolan airstrikes, the Steel Works would also be an important site for the future.

For the steel works, which were currently unoccupied, a token force would be sent - simple Civil Protection units, to secure the site - and to assess the damage to the site.
For the Eastern end, however, a much larger force would be allocated - as North Sylvarian Shock infantry would be used to wipe out resistance with extreme force. Arakhkhari Shock Troops, for their part, were delegated to secure the North-Western outskirts of the city - namely, Sylvaria's only 5-star restaurant - the 'Prince's Delight.'

It was a far more enviable job, of course, to take the Eastern end - which was far less dense in terms of the cannibal concentration.

Cannibals, however, were being killed by the thousands in the portions of the city under their control - as an aggressive campaign began to liquidate the cannibal presence. Bodies would be loaded onto trucks, and dug into mass-graves - often by cannibals, who would be forced at gunpoint to dig the graves, before becoming permanent residents of their labor.

---

Nayden
The evacuation of Nayden slowly continued - and the tension in the air was palpable. Civilians, wherever they could be found - were directed to refugee camps deeper into the province, where they could then become citizens - others, of course, made mad dashes for the checkpoints - begging to be let in, to avoid what they viewed to be a terrible fate.

For many Communists, however, there was no such luxury - only the hopeless fight they found themselves in.
They continued, in somewhat of a valiant struggle - they considered themselves valiant, anyways, but in truth, there was very little they could manage to do.

Shock Troopers would simply capture them by the dozen - line them against a wall, and prepare them for transport. Those that resisted were simply liquidated.

And, truth be told, the presence of the checkpoints significantly impeded their movement - that they could not pass, without disarming, meant that they could not operate effectively - rather than having a cohesive perimeter, they were left with but a few isolated city blocks.

[Rhastov]

At the airport, the situation would improve dramatically as the first IL-76 began making its way down towards the runway to drop off much needed supplies, including kerosene for aircraft and spare parts for the ground vehicles. As the ground troops were shuffling around all crates and tankers around, the cargo planes were coming and going like bees carrying pollen to their nest, delivering supplies, landing not only on the paved runway but also on the strips of land around it, to speed up the process. Among the usual food, clothing, and ammunition, there was a substantial amount of alcohol being dropped off as well. The airport started looking more and more like a proper airbase with each delivery.



At night, however, the most important asset would be finally delivered: air defense systems. Something the ground troops asked for for a long time, not wanting to rely on the carrier aircraft. An An-124 Ruslan carrying several S-300 launchers landed on the poorly lit runway. After it delivered its payload, the Ruslan took off again and disappeared into the night just as fast as it appeared. The deliveries would continue throughout the night, slower than expected, but able to deliver an entire S-300 battery along with half a dozen Pantsir-S1 medium range SPAA systems by morning. However the S-300 wouldn't be operational until well into the afternoon.

[North Sylvaria]

Official Communique of the State of Northern Sylvaria

---

---

Earlier this Evening, Intendant Varos declared his intent to transition the State of Northern Sylvaria to an Imperial Intendancy - thus, to become a full vassal of Arakhkhar. The move was made with the full consent of Arakhkhari authorities, who have since applauded the move as a - 'right step' towards the grander global goals of the Principality, and being an important step in the reconstruction of our nation from our brutal civil war. Already, efforts have begun to restructure the civil authority into that of a full Intendancy - and already, our benefactors have proven invaluable in this transition.

---

Statement of the Intendant Varos

"Citizens." "For too long, Sylvaria has suffered under the yoke of the Old Order. For too long, our people have lived and suffered under the consequences, of such incapability - of the crude bludgeoning instrument, in which they would beat 'democracy' into us." "It is with sadness that I see this country in today - that cannibals now occupy what was once the capital of this nation, or that foreign boots now occupy Sylvanhaym with the sole intent of turning it into a bastion of their vaunted Old Order." "A thousand indemnities have been inflicted on Sylvaria. And a thousand more will have been inflicted - were it not for the ventures of... our benefactors." "Today - the Old Order has been shaken off. What our Troopers have started can no longer be stopped - with courage in their hearts, and in armor of ceramic - with guns in their hands, and with a fire for a new Sylvaria - a Sylvaria tempered by war, and forged according to a new shared vision - a vision our Benefactors share." "Despite the attempts of the Old Order to split our bond with the benefactors - no such effort has yet met with any success. The friendship of North Sylvaria to Arakhkhar is unbreakable, and now, the world will come to see that." "As the dissolute struck us with cruise missiles - who was there to pick up the rubble? Who was there to feed our children, as we fought at war? Who clothed, rebuilt Sylvaria? In no measure are they not our benefactors - the truest of such." "It is with happiness in my heart that I must say, that today, the humiliation shall be shaken off. The yoke of the Old Order has been broken. We stand at the precipice of victory - and, now, we have someone - our benefactors - who have guided us there, in every step of the way." "It is for these reasons, that I have decided to begin the process of integration into Arakhkhar as an Intendancy." "I know this transition, for many, will be difficult - but change is never easy. And this, I am confident, is a change for the better. "Long live Sylvaria. And, by the Vicereine's Will."

[The Daeva]

Havenbrook
The disaster along the provincial border had, at the least, one positive side effect. With the complete withdrawal of the Divine Salvation Movement, all forces that had been accorded there could be rotated to the capital. For Colonel Guss, however, and for the Consortian marines that had been starving there - the war was over.

However, with a period of inactivity from the Consortian government - a silence that seemed to grow ever-present, and more deafening. After the collapse of jamming, nearly a month ago, many of those marines had wished desperately to receive messages from home.
But the silence was deafening. Agonizing, even - they had lost so many, to the DSM, or to cholera, or to simple hunger.

Colonel Guss, however, would finally return from his long vigil at Point Overlook - brought back to the capital, and hailed as a hero.
General Kalden spoke, as Colonel Guss stood beside him - a crowd had awaited them, to witness the 'sentinel of Point Overlook,' whose vigil did not break.

"My countrymen."
Kalden took a moment to take his breath, before speaking.
"I come before you now as your leader - but not as the man of the hour."
"My friends - this is a war. A brutal affair, in so many ways - that we have seen such horrors inflicted upon our nation - scars that, perhaps, may never fully heal."
"However, it is in these moments that the strength of a nation is tested, irrespective of ideology - it is in these dark days, that courage - honor - sacrifice, more than we could possibly know, light the way forward. Allow me to present to you one such torchbearer - who, with the aid of such fine men as the Consortians, and the Eurasians, helped light the path for a brighter future."
"May I present a hero of Sylvaria - Colonel Amin Vestaros Guss."
The crowd begins to clap, and cheer for the beleaguered colonel, who steps forward to address the crowd. The colonel himself was an older man - and was mere weeks from retirement before the Civil War broke out.
"Friends."
He took a moment to take in the sight of the crowd - as he closed his eyes for a moment - the cheering, in his mind, brought back memories only of screams of the suffering - the weeping over the dead. As he opened his eyes, he saw before him thousands of the Sylvarian living - and as he closed them, thousands more of the Sylvarian dead.
Shaking these images from his mind, he stood to address the crowd.
"I stand among you, as a man who has done little more than defend his home. This damnable war... it has cost so much."
He looks down a little.
"So much."
"I shall not speak of my own glory, today. I was just a man in the wrong place."
"Of those who died in Point Overlook's defense - I can not be certain. For those untold dead, I can offer only my gratitude - and, I wish for everlasting peace for those untold civilian dead who died under this most cruel effect of war."
"I shall ask for no monument, for I am wholly undeserving. The finest monument to the sacrifices we made, would be a monument to peace - that never again should so many die for so little."
He withdrew from the microphone. Kalden was surprisingly pleased with his impromptu speech - albeit, somewhat embarrassed by his seeming humility, as Kalden now came to speak once more.
"Moving words - from a man who has suffered a great loss. Yet, today, we stand here not in defeat - but in triumph. That the cowards who had attacked Point Overlook have now seen fit to disappear - it is a pity, only that they could not be punished for their crimes, of which there are a great many."
"Mister Guss - and his retinue, despite serving under the Republic's flag, have bled justly for their country. They did so without expectation of some reward, without any expectation of survival - they fought to save their home from a malicious force, and they held out, against all odds."
"To Colonel Guss - I, and all of Sylvaria, have no need to declare you a hero - for your actions have been heroic. Your heroic deeds, and the deeds of those men who died in the defense of Point Overlook will be known for eternity."
He produced a medal from his pocket - Colonel Guss hesitantly stepped forward.
"Amin Vastaros Guss - I hereby declare you, with the powers vested in me, to be a Hero of Sylvaria - and, it will be your mark, to bear the banner of a Defender of Point Overlook."
He turns to the crowd.
"To the defenders of Point Overlook - Consortian, Eurasian, Sylvarian, and those foreign nations in the Coalition which have aided in their struggle - I can offer my gratitude. And for those trapped in the city - your sacrifice will be recognized - each man shall receive such a mark, and his prosperity assured. For those men who are no longer with us - that they would bear this mark posthumously, and that their families would be granted a lien in memory of that sacrifice."

His promises would be fulfilled - but now, there remained a humanitarian crisis in the city of Point Overlook. Although many had been evacuated, many others remained in the city - people were still dying from cholera, and from malaria - food and clean water remained in short supply.

The Provisional Government, which had once been geared for war - now had to deal with its consequences. Havenbrook's capture was not nearly as bad, seeing as how it was not facing a lengthy siege, and was mostly developed - but this cruel affair had effectively destroyed Point Overlook.

In the aftermath of the war - and after the dust had settled - the city would have to be reconstructed in full.
For the moment, however, they had to contend with the epidemic - and attempt to prevent a famine.

---

New Vvarreach

New Vvarreach

Sir Roland studied his handsome features in his wine glass for a second, as if thinking of how best to respond.

“Coming a long way is my specialty, your highness.” He says finally, with a dashing smile. “You ask for my skill set. I must admit I was hoping my reputation would precede me, but…” he shrugs with a charmingly rueful look. “There is some benefits in obscurity, yes? I am something of an Omnidisciplinarian, one might say.” He says, standing up, his medals flashing. “I was declared a Hero of Daeva for a reason. I have climbed Mount Everest, fought warlords in Tibet, wrestled tigers in India, disbanded a cartoonishly evil spy ring operating in my own country, carved my way through opium smugglers. I have bagged tracked and stuffed every rare beast from here to Borneo. I have been from the highest peaks and the deepest caves, High Society to the seedy underbelly. So you ask for my skill set, sir?” He asks, and a porter carefully stacks a nearly four foot tall stack of books on the table in front of the prince.

“Consider this my resume.” He says with a smile. “All true, I hold myself to certain standards. I am sorry if this sounds pompous, but I am quite good at most things. I am an expert shot, award winning fencer, a deft hand in a cockpit, and have enough experience to successfully improvise if it comes to it. Besides, I have also brought some notably less lauded but still competent help along with me.” He says, gesturing to the Mercs. “All I ask for in return is the right to immortalize our story.”

He pauses. “I am truly the best Daeva has to offer. I am all your getting from the international community, as far as I can tell. Luckily for you… I am all you need.”

Shame he was wrong about that last part…

The Prince Salaros hmmphed.
"I do believe that 'as far as you can tell' is not very far indeed."
He spoke rather jokingly - perhaps, a vulgarity borne of his time in the desert.
"The Emerstari have so graciously offered riflemen to my cause, as have other members of the so-called Coalition."
He speaks more seriously.
"Although only you have come so far, to meet with me - that shows something - some form of devotion to your mission. That is something I can duly appreciate."
"The fact is, is that we are not facing opium smugglers, or a spy ring. We do face warlords, true, but certainly not Everest. Although it is, again, signs of your dedication - of your strength - I believe you fail to recognize what sort of war this is."
The Prince ate some of the steak.
"Tell me. At the moment, I have the guarantee of the Intendant Varos that he will not invade."
He pauses for but a moment.
"That guarantee is, at the moment, nothing but a set of words exchanged via a letter. If he - or his masters - earnestly decided that I be exterminated, and this city with it, he would waste no time in doing it."
He cut into a piece of steak.
"Tell me, Sir Roland. I have an army of around 1,000, give or take. There are 2,000 Emerstari light infantry who wish to come to my aid."
He eats a piece of steak.
"I have 2 aircraft, as well."
He swallows.
"By my estimates, North Sylvaria alone has 50,000 active duty infantry. Mechanized - and covered by over 200 Arakhkhari aircraft. And across the border, we estimate that there are 7 Arakhkhari divisions that are ready to cross the border - and one, that is already in."
"Setting aside that, I still do not know whether the leader of the so-called Provisional Government would prove amenable. What exists of our intelligence service claims 40,000 - with armor, mechanized, and air support. Inferior to Arakhkhar's interests, but infinitely superior to our own."
"The fact is, Sir Roland - this is not an affair that can be solved with but a single bullet, or with a sly smile - it is a war. A war unlike anything yet seen in Sylvaria. So tell me, Sir Roland - how would you prosecute such a war? Or, better yet - how would you... prosecute peace?"

---

Siladen City
The trial proceeded in a sort of grim procession.

Charge after charge - some faked, some earnest. He had been given so many charges - that the minimum sentence was death.
"Conspiracy to revolt... treason... murder... theft of private property... attack on a Civil Protection officer... conspiracy to riot... arson..."
The charges droned on and on, in a sort of monotony.

There seemed no end to them - each new charge being yet another stake into Nebekanov, until at last he could feel no more - letting them simply stab into him, without resistant. He offered not a word in his defense, beyond the occasional cold glare. There was little more he could do other than that, being the prisoner of such a regime - and there was indeed little he could accomplish but those stares.

He didn't even care to hear the sentence - he was already so convinced it would be death, that it was hardly worth listening to.
That was, of course, until he realized that 'execution' had never been stated.

As the judge finished reading the charges, she spoke aloud.
"It is the finding of this court that Ivan Nebakanov is guilty of all of the aforementioned charges."
She read from her paper.
"Sentence to be determined at a later date."

---

OOC
My apologies that I could not touch upon Sylvanthol or Sylvanhaym today - a number of IRL things got in the way of writing for everyone's favorite hellhole. I will address these locations tomorrow.

Sir Roland smiled affably, but inside he was seething. Who the hell did this desert rat think he was?! Here was Sir Roland, gallantly offering his services only to be questioned and doubted? Still, he needed the material…

“I think you are severely underestimating me, your highness. Just because I prefer champagne to beer and uniforms to rags doesn’t make me some useless fop.” He says, gesturing with his fork. “Besides, I am not the ruler of my country. It isn’t exactly fair to compare my own private and independent contribution to that of national armies.” He says with a raised eyebrow. “Besides, I am a highly skilled scout, spy and diplomat. I have written several constitutions after helping disparate rebels overthrow Sofian monarchs, which you can read about in volume six.” He says with a small chuckle.

“To administer war, I would not trust North Sylvaria and would fortify. I would pursue an alliance with the provisional government and subvert them to monarchism. In peace I would draw up a constitution that favors the monarchy while giving minor concessions to the nationalists, and then appoint competent administrators to begin industrializing to catch up with Arakhkhar.” He says, his brown eyes betraying a tad of wounded pride at his tactical skills being doubted by a desert ragamuffin.

“Do I pass? If you want a demonstration I could fight one of your bodyguards but that is hardly gentlemanly”

[Arakhkhar]

Sir Roland smiled affably, but inside he was seething. Who the hell did this desert rat think he was?! Here was Sir Roland, gallantly offering his services only to be questioned and doubted? Still, he needed the material…

“I think you are severely underestimating me, your highness. Just because I prefer champagne to beer and uniforms to rags doesn’t make me some useless fop.” He says, gesturing with his fork. “Besides, I am not the ruler of my country. It isn’t exactly fair to compare my own private and independent contribution to that of national armies.” He says with a raised eyebrow. “Besides, I am a highly skilled scout, spy and diplomat. I have written several constitutions after helping disparate rebels overthrow Sofian monarchs, which you can read about in volume six.” He says with a small chuckle.

“To administer war, I would not trust North Sylvaria and would fortify. I would pursue an alliance with the provisional government and subvert them to monarchism. In peace I would draw up a constitution that favors the monarchy while giving minor concessions to the nationalists, and then appoint competent administrators to begin industrializing to catch up with Arakhkhar.” He says, his brown eyes betraying a tad of wounded pride at his tactical skills being doubted by a desert ragamuffin.

“Do I pass? If you want a demonstration I could fight one of your bodyguards but that is hardly gentlemanly”

New Vvarreach
The Prince was, of course, testing Sir Roland - such served more as a gauge of his character, rather than anything else.

To be quick to anger at perceived criticism - such was not the hallmark of a calm, collected individual - to which would be necessary in the days and weeks to come. Yet still, he persisted on this note.

“A sound diplomatic strategy. The Provisional Government is, indeed, the main point on which security can be, in whole or in part, attained. However, I must urge you to consider more carefully the situation with regards to your… industrial plan.”
He licked his lips for a moment, as he took a sip of cold water.
“Tell me, earnestly. Sylvaria is a country that once had 40 million. Now, likely to be split in half. That is, of course, not counting those dead or displaced, or the undoubtedly many who are now permanently crippled as a result of injuries incurred during the war.”
“Keep in mind, then, that Point Overlook - Havenbrook - and most of all, Sylvanthol - the major cities that would form the core of any effort of Free Sylvaria, have all been destroyed by war.”
“Simply put, it will take us, with foreign investment, at least 10-20 years to recover from the war. Keep in mind, then, that North Sylvaria, when it captured Vaylenburgh, seized over 80% of the nation’s industrial capacity.”
“In the meantime, Arakhkhar will have had anywhere from 10 to six times our population, and will not be recovering from a total war. It is realistically impossible for Sylvaria to catch up in that regard. Barring an intervention from the Gods themselves, Sylvaria will by no means win a conventional war against Arakhkhar. No. We must focus our efforts into asymmetric warfare - guerilla tactics, or, barring that, defense in-depth."

“Regarding your first statement - yes, a capable spy, diplomat, and scout. But what I need, sir, is an army. I do not consider you useless, because you simply aren’t - and to say so would be an aberration. To believe that you are the sole savior of this country is also an aberration.”

“So, I suggest, then, that we work on the most crucial of these issues - at least, for securing national stability. Suppose, for a moment, that I had desired to send you to Havenbrook, to forge a lasting alliance with the Provisional Government - and more importantly, with Marcus Kalden, their interim president.”

“I would like you to explain to me, about how would you go about aligning mister Kalden. For instance, what concessions we would offer - what promises you would make - and more importantly, how to justify the transformation of this country into a monarchy.”
He said this, with the full knowledge that he was not an absolutist - and that was not, in fact, his intent. It was another test - to see if he had paid any attention to his various speeches.

---

Havenbrook
The news from North Sylvaria was not surprising. In truth, everyone knew full well that the State of Northern Sylvaria was a puppet state. This just confirmed those suspicions, with the State of Northern Sylvaria declaring its intent to become a full Intendancy.

Kalden, of course, would be called upon to speak in a short address.

"It is now, my countrymen, that our northern Neighbors have cast off the masquerade."
"Varos, the puppet-in-chief of the State of Northern Sylvaria, has announced his intent to integrate into the Arakhkhari command structure."
"As we all know, however, Varos has long since answered to Novalira for his instructions."
"What has occurred today is little more than the confirmation of what has been a state of affairs when the 'State' did not exist, and was just a band of traitorous militias standing for so called 'Unity and Progress."

Kalden looked somewhat calm - but with a hint of eminent anger, so prominent when addressing one's enemies.

"Let it be known, today - that the ceasefire will be upheld - only as a ceasefire with Arakhkhar, for North Sylvaria, under this Intendancy, is little more than an extension of it."

[The Daeva]

Sir Roland smiled affably, but inside he was seething. Who the hell did this desert rat think he was?! Here was Sir Roland, gallantly offering his services only to be questioned and doubted? Still, he needed the material…

“I think you are severely underestimating me, your highness. Just because I prefer champagne to beer and uniforms to rags doesn’t make me some useless fop.” He says, gesturing with his fork. “Besides, I am not the ruler of my country. It isn’t exactly fair to compare my own private and independent contribution to that of national armies.” He says with a raised eyebrow. “Besides, I am a highly skilled scout, spy and diplomat. I have written several constitutions after helping disparate rebels overthrow Sofian monarchs, which you can read about in volume six.” He says with a small chuckle.

“To administer war, I would not trust North Sylvaria and would fortify. I would pursue an alliance with the provisional government and subvert them to monarchism. In peace I would draw up a constitution that favors the monarchy while giving minor concessions to the nationalists, and then appoint competent administrators to begin industrializing to catch up with Arakhkhar.” He says, his brown eyes betraying a tad of wounded pride at his tactical skills being doubted by a desert ragamuffin.

“Do I pass? If you want a demonstration I could fight one of your bodyguards but that is hardly gentlemanly”

New Vvarreach
The Prince was, of course, testing Sir Roland - such served more as a gauge of his character, rather than anything else.

To be quick to anger at perceived criticism - such was not the hallmark of a calm, collected individual - to which would be necessary in the days and weeks to come. Yet still, he persisted on this note.

“A sound diplomatic strategy. The Provisional Government is, indeed, the main point on which security can be, in whole or in part, attained. However, I must urge you to consider more carefully the situation with regards to your… industrial plan.”
He licked his lips for a moment, as he took a sip of cold water.
“Tell me, earnestly. Sylvaria is a country that once had 40 million. Now, likely to be split in half. That is, of course, not counting those dead or displaced, or the undoubtedly many who are now permanently crippled as a result of injuries incurred during the war.”
“Keep in mind, then, that Point Overlook - Havenbrook - and most of all, Sylvanthol - the major cities that would form the core of any effort of Free Sylvaria, have all been destroyed by war.”
“Simply put, it will take us, with foreign investment, at least 10-20 years to recover from the war. Keep in mind, then, that North Sylvaria, when it captured Vaylenburgh, seized over 80% of the nation’s industrial capacity.”
“In the meantime, Arakhkhar will have had anywhere from 10 to six times our population, and will not be recovering from a total war. It is realistically impossible for Sylvaria to catch up in that regard. Barring an intervention from the Gods themselves, Sylvaria will by no means win a conventional war against Arakhkhar. No. We must focus our efforts into asymmetric warfare - guerilla tactics, or, barring that, defense in-depth."

“Regarding your first statement - yes, a capable spy, diplomat, and scout. But what I need, sir, is an army. I do not consider you useless, because you simply aren’t - and to say so would be an aberration. To believe that you are the sole savior of this country is also an aberration.”

“So, I suggest, then, that we work on the most crucial of these issues - at least, for securing national stability. Suppose, for a moment, that I had desired to send you to Havenbrook, to forge a lasting alliance with the Provisional Government - and more importantly, with Marcus Kalden, their interim president.”

“I would like you to explain to me, about how would you go about aligning mister Kalden. For instance, what concessions we would offer - what promises you would make - and more importantly, how to justify the transformation of this country into a monarchy.”
He said this, with the full knowledge that he was not an absolutist - and that was not, in fact, his intent. It was another test - to see if he had paid any attention to his various speeches.

---

Havenbrook
The news from North Sylvaria was not surprising. In truth, everyone knew full well that the State of Northern Sylvaria was a puppet state. This just confirmed those suspicions, with the State of Northern Sylvaria declaring its intent to become a full Intendancy.

Kalden, of course, would be called upon to speak in a short address.

"It is now, my countrymen, that our northern Neighbors have cast off the masquerade."
"Varos, the puppet-in-chief of the State of Northern Sylvaria, has announced his intent to integrate into the Arakhkhari command structure."
"As we all know, however, Varos has long since answered to Novalira for his instructions."
"What has occurred today is little more than the confirmation of what has been a state of affairs when the 'State' did not exist, and was just a band of traitorous militias standing for so called 'Unity and Progress."

Kalden looked somewhat calm - but with a hint of eminent anger, so prominent when addressing one's enemies.

"Let it be known, today - that the ceasefire will be upheld - only as a ceasefire with Arakhkhar, for North Sylvaria, under this Intendancy, is little more than an extension of it."

Sir Roland smiles genially, but inside he was a tad frustrated. The prince wasn’t the adoring native petty monarch he was supposed to be. Where was the gratitude? Instead he talked of politics and interrogated his savior. Still, Sir Roland was a skilled actor and hid his emotions well.

“Of course, guerrilla war is a wise strategy, your highness. However, just because you can’t out industrialize Arakhkhar doesn’t mean you shouldn’t begin the process. It is the key to not becoming a backwater that merely answers to some distant lands. Besides, the destruction of the old allows plenty of opportunity to make a better new. With the old cities demolished, you are free to not only rebuild but revolutionize, with more practical city designs.”

He says, then stops. The monarchs recent choice of words showed that he, indeed, was seeing Sir Roland as an asset. Marvelous.

“To convince General Kalden. Hm. Well, obviously you offer to make him first Prime Minister of South Sylvaria. I would promise that you would be a constitutional monarchy. The trick is to make sure you make said constitution. I would recommend a ‘royal assent’ system, where for a law to be passed the monarch must approve of it. Bury this clause in the depths of paperwork. Concessions, well, Kalden will need to keep some of his power. What is imperative is that he doesn’t have a monopoly on the army, or your position is endangered. I would also point out that it would lend his government legitimacy and it would make the religious more loyal to South Sylvaria.” He says.

“That is just the barebones, of course. It would require some panache and aplomb, and definite craftiness but it is doable.”

[Arakhkhar]

Sir Roland smiles genially, but inside he was a tad frustrated. The prince wasn’t the adoring native petty monarch he was supposed to be. Where was the gratitude? Instead he talked of politics and interrogated his savior. Still, Sir Roland was a skilled actor and hid his emotions well.

“Of course, guerrilla war is a wise strategy, your highness. However, just because you can’t out industrialize Arakhkhar doesn’t mean you shouldn’t begin the process. It is the key to not becoming a backwater that merely answers to some distant lands. Besides, the destruction of the old allows plenty of opportunity to make a better new. With the old cities demolished, you are free to not only rebuild but revolutionize, with more practical city designs.”

He says, then stops. The monarchs recent choice of words showed that he, indeed, was seeing Sir Roland as an asset. Marvelous.

“To convince General Kalden. Hm. Well, obviously you offer to make him first Prime Minister of South Sylvaria. I would promise that you would be a constitutional monarchy. The trick is to make sure you make said constitution. I would recommend a ‘royal assent’ system, where for a law to be passed the monarch must approve of it. Bury this clause in the depths of paperwork. Concessions, well, Kalden will need to keep some of his power. What is imperative is that he doesn’t have a monopoly on the army, or your position is endangered. I would also point out that it would lend his government legitimacy and it would make the religious more loyal to South Sylvaria.” He says.

“That is just the barebones, of course. It would require some panache and aplomb, and definite craftiness but it is doable.”

New Varreach

The Crown Prince chuckled a bit.
"Burying something deep into paperwork may work for the average consumer, but not so much for a head of state. Trust me, on this. During my exile, I visited Rionsergond. A land quite literally ruled by corporations, under only the barest of governments. Total corporate control over all civil services. Believe me - if you have ever visited, you would know to read every contract carefully. I've seen people apply for a job at a food-packing plant, only to have not read the little text, and end up indentured."
He shifted a bit.
"That trick works quite well against the ordinary consumer, of some crappy little city. People nowadays tend to be able to speak and read the language written in paperwork, especially something as crucial as that. Every comma would be scrutinized by a team of lawyers. And yes, Kalden still has lawyers."
He was, however, pleased with the response - although it is not what he would have said.
"The fact is, is that Kalden will not accept this... straight out of the gate, so to speak. We need, first, to establish a united front - with each of us held in equal. The immediate post-war will consist, then, of determining the form in which the government will take. For now, we should thus concern us purely with military, rather than political matters - and that a military alliance is an apolitical matter, due to the nature of the opposition."
He paused for a moment, taking a moment to eat.
"This really is quite good. My compliments to whomever prepared it."
He continues again.
"You did, however, correctly identify something rather crucial."
He gained a grim expression.
"The Republic, as many times as it is tried, will always fail - like the last one. Sylvaria, simply put, is too unstable. Kalden is a brilliant negotiator to get his army to work together - to even make Fascists work with Socialists without coercion is, simply, unimaginable with any other man."
"Kalden is no moron - he knows that, without a symbol, Sylvaria will fall again - only, the next time it falls, the only person willing or capable to pick it up will be the Intendant. Thus - he needs a symbol. In short - he needs me."
"Industrialization will be a slow process. Especially with the fact that, with the exception of the uranium deposits south of here, we have few natural resources to speak of. No coal, or iron - and crucially, no oil. My father had overseen the industrial works of Vaylenburgh under a royal company - something that had constituted decades of progress."
"I have no doubt that industry should be rebuilt - but what form it should take, is, indeed, still a matter to be decided."

---

OOC
Going to hold off on posting my usual length posts until Eurasia and GU start posting again.

---

[The Grand Economic Consortium]

snip.

POINT OVERLOOK
The 1200 Consortian marines, the first to be sent into Sylvarian teritorry, were still there. The siege had been broken, the city had been secured due to the help of the nationalists, which now formed the Provisional Government. Yet, despite the apparent victory, the regiment was still stuck in unfriendly land. The rest of the fleet was in Insolloth, while they were still miles west at the formal battleground. The cholera outbreak in the town did not make things any easier. The medical corpsmen which had established field clinics offering Doxycycline and electrolyte solutions to the citizens. Yet, supplies were running dry. After all, the few L-ATVs the medics had brought along could only carry a limited number of supplements.

Frankly, with the ceasfire between the North Sylvarians and the Provisional Government, it looked like the job of the Consortians was done. After all, they had stopped the spread of communism and managed to fend off the DSM fanatics. With this, the brigadier general who was in charge of the surviving marines, Johnathan Perry, had to negotiate safe passage with the nationalists. It was clear that the two battalions wouldn't be allowed to simply walk off. No, the nationalists would not allow a possible asset to escape their grasp. The only path to take in order to get gome was to talk their way out of this.

The general, along with two marines, began to search for any provisional government operating base or encampment in the city. If there were none, one of the communications officers would attempt to establish a secure line with the provisional government leadership and begin negotiating for safe passage. As of now, the objective of the two battalions changed. Their new goal would be regrouping with the fleet in Insolloth, ans that would require obtaining the permission to pass through nationalist land.

[Arakhkhar]

Siladii
The effects of the beginnings of integration as a full Intendancy were already being felt in Sylvaria.

With the restructuring of the government’s control zones into districts, the next step was beginning to rename and replace signage. Several towns would be renamed - made to suit the Arakhkhari language, in addition to the Sylvarian translations. The grip was, as Pellew predicted, slowly tightening.

More so, as Civil Protection had effectively established checkpoints at major roads and intersections. The free traffic of civilians was effectively revoked between cities. If one travelled somewhere outside of one’s designated city, one would have to be permitted to do so, and for a list of ‘permissible’ reasons that seemed to shrink daily.

The reliance on rationing, however, decreased - as small private enterprises would instead sell imported food from Arakhkhar.
However, so did the necessities of the state - and the rebuilding of the economy. Large-scale construction works had begun throughout the former province - focused on rebuilding infrastructure around Siladen City, now renamed ‘Siladii.’ This would serve to soak up any remaining unemployment, and provide a helpful boost to the local economy. In addition, the Sylvarwerke Military Industrial complex was expanded - with several new workshops established to facilitate the construction of weaponry for export and for military use - including copies of the MP-5, and licensed production of the RAK-62M.

But, with this, Communist prisoners of war would play a large part of ‘reconstructive labor,’ aimed at rebuilding North Sylvaria. This occurred both in the cities, and in a series of newly established labor camps - for both communists prisoners of war, criminals, and dissidents.

---

Camp 5
SIC:
It was a sad little camp, so much as it could be called as such. And for H-8002, formerly Private Kalos of the People’s Revolutionary Vanguard, that definition held more true to him than anything else in the world.

Rain gently pattered against his back - the tough material absorbing the drops of water somewhat, but not enough to make his tenure any less miserable.

He swung the axe provided to him - directly into the base of the tree. A small split could be seen, a few splinters falling from it. Like a machine, he drew his arms back, and made yet another swing - watching as the progress went by.

They were clearing out this part of the forest - the lumber, of course, sold both at home and abroad - upon which some new development would be made. What that was, he did not know.

As he chopped - a Civil Protection officer watched from atop a watchtower, watching at the proverbial ants scurrying below, meandering about the camp at the direction of the shock batons of taskmasters.

Chop.
Chop.
Crack.

The tree began to fall. Kalos moved out of the way half-heartedly. He wanted, sometimes, to simply not move - to let himself be crushed. Yet, for some reason - perhaps out of fear for what would happen if he attempted to do so, but survived - he kept working.

It had occurred to him, at one point, to try to strike against the Civil Protection officers. Only, the last person who tried was shot dead on the spot. At least, he imagined, he could have that as a suicide option.

Alas, as the sky darkened - the night becoming more evident, a buzzer sounded, filling the camp with its distinctive cacophony.

Kalos looked up - and began to meander towards the camp storage site. The axe was placed into a small slot, clamoring just a little as the metal struck against metal.

Each man after him placed his equipment in its proper place - supervised by Civil Protection, of course. However just as they left, and about to eat, the PA system sounded.
”ALL LABORERS ASSEMBLE IN COURTYARD A.”
It was not uncommon, of course - likely, he imagined, an impromptu inspection done to keep them on edge, as was so common. He was somewhat disappointed, though - he had wanted to at least eat, first.

As the prisoners assembled, in the rain - spotlights shone above them, turning on automatically with the shift to the nighttime. But, it soon became clear this was no ordinary inspection.

Black boots clicked upon the concrete ground - and a pair of glowing eyes made themselves evident. Their purple hue more than evident in the rain, creating something of a soft glow to the mist around them. There were 4 of them, in their distinctive black armor - walking alongside a man. He was of Sylvarian appearance, but he walked with the distinction and pomp of an Arakhkhari - a collaborator, and, evidently, a rather eminent one. He carried an umbrella, letting the rain patter against it as he walked in boots. His outfit was that of a grey, sterile coat - made in Arakhkhar, with a simple silver pin on the shoulder letting his allegiance be known to the world. His hair was cut short. The man was clean-shaven, and with eyes that seemed ever vigilant.

A rather distinctive scar sat just below his sharp blue eyes - crossing to his mouth from just under his eye.
He paced, back and forth, before speaking - his gait was as sharp as his eyes, as he watched each prisoner - seeming to be searching for... something.

He spoke clearly, to the Shock Troopers.
"Is this all of them?"
The Shock Trooper said nothing - giving a slight nod, to which he responded in turn.
He spoke louder, now, to address the full crowd - rows of jumpsuited prisoners, standing in rows of 10 each.
"The following laborers will step forward."
He said this, looking at the crowd - his eyes darting left and right like a hawk.
"D-9102. W-1491. C-9923. U-7219. A-2309."
Kalos prayed that his designation would not be called.
"H-8002."
Kalos felt his stomach sink. Was he being made an example of? Being executed?
"Line up."
The man's voice was sharp - like a drill instructor, almost.

The men lined up - in front of the other prisoners.
"The rest of the laborers are dismissed to their meal time. Go."
The other men seemed relieved, as they walked off to take what meager rations were spared to them.
Kalos, however, was terrified. He practically shook - unsure of what was planned for him. He did, however, notice something - the prisoners that had been chosen were the largest and strongest men of the labor camp. Each exhibiting favorable features.

The man stepped in front of each man - staring at all of them, examining... no, that was not the right word. Appraising them.
He seemed somewhat pleased with the batch.
"They will accompany us."

---

Point Overlook
With contact made with the Consortian marines - as regular radio communications would be made to the city, filling the airwaves - asking them to negotiate.

But, without even a word of these negotiations made, it had been clear what the Provisional Government, and what Kalden wanted. They wanted, craved legitimacy - and by glorifying the Consortians of defenders of Sylvaria, using the war-hero status of Colonel Guss to make them share in that glory - however, to do so with the caveat that that the Consortians recognized Kalden's government - or that otherwise, they would be forced to disarm as trespassers on Sylvarian land, and escorted to Primeva.

The situation in the city was, however, improving - as medical convoys and humanitarian aid came in from the south to ease the significant burden placed upon the population. They offered to extend this to the Consortians, out of compassion rather than out of any cynical ploys.

---

Sylvanthol
The treads of rubber, and the sound of a rumbling engine - such was what accompanied the black-colored armored vehicle, as it made its way. In the back, a number of Shock Troopers sat - but joining them, was the pale face of Subcommander Asina - the officer in charge of a full battalion, and the representative chosen to speak with the Rhastovians due to her limited knowledge in speaking Russian.

They were to meet with the Rhastovians on a bridge - and so, they approached the designated location with some anxiety.
After all, they had never met with members of the Coalition in person. Many had the impression that they would be shot on sight - yet, they had been given a task, and their sole mandate was to obey it.

And so - the IFV rolled onto the bridge - and the hatch opened, letting light fill the vehicle - as the Troopers dismounted, with a hard thud with each landing on her boots. The decision was made for the Subcommander to remain inside, with Shock troopers remaining to guard her, until the Rhastovians arrived.

[The Daeva]

Sir Roland smiles genially, but inside he was a tad frustrated. The prince wasn’t the adoring native petty monarch he was supposed to be. Where was the gratitude? Instead he talked of politics and interrogated his savior. Still, Sir Roland was a skilled actor and hid his emotions well.

“Of course, guerrilla war is a wise strategy, your highness. However, just because you can’t out industrialize Arakhkhar doesn’t mean you shouldn’t begin the process. It is the key to not becoming a backwater that merely answers to some distant lands. Besides, the destruction of the old allows plenty of opportunity to make a better new. With the old cities demolished, you are free to not only rebuild but revolutionize, with more practical city designs.”

He says, then stops. The monarchs recent choice of words showed that he, indeed, was seeing Sir Roland as an asset. Marvelous.

“To convince General Kalden. Hm. Well, obviously you offer to make him first Prime Minister of South Sylvaria. I would promise that you would be a constitutional monarchy. The trick is to make sure you make said constitution. I would recommend a ‘royal assent’ system, where for a law to be passed the monarch must approve of it. Bury this clause in the depths of paperwork. Concessions, well, Kalden will need to keep some of his power. What is imperative is that he doesn’t have a monopoly on the army, or your position is endangered. I would also point out that it would lend his government legitimacy and it would make the religious more loyal to South Sylvaria.” He says.

“That is just the barebones, of course. It would require some panache and aplomb, and definite craftiness but it is doable.”

New Varreach

The Crown Prince chuckled a bit.
"Burying something deep into paperwork may work for the average consumer, but not so much for a head of state. Trust me, on this. During my exile, I visited Rionsergond. A land quite literally ruled by corporations, under only the barest of governments. Total corporate control over all civil services. Believe me - if you have ever visited, you would know to read every contract carefully. I've seen people apply for a job at a food-packing plant, only to have not read the little text, and end up indentured."
He shifted a bit.
"That trick works quite well against the ordinary consumer, of some crappy little city. People nowadays tend to be able to speak and read the language written in paperwork, especially something as crucial as that. Every comma would be scrutinized by a team of lawyers. And yes, Kalden still has lawyers."
He was, however, pleased with the response - although it is not what he would have said.
"The fact is, is that Kalden will not accept this... straight out of the gate, so to speak. We need, first, to establish a united front - with each of us held in equal. The immediate post-war will consist, then, of determining the form in which the government will take. For now, we should thus concern us purely with military, rather than political matters - and that a military alliance is an apolitical matter, due to the nature of the opposition."
He paused for a moment, taking a moment to eat.
"This really is quite good. My compliments to whomever prepared it."
He continues again.
"You did, however, correctly identify something rather crucial."
He gained a grim expression.
"The Republic, as many times as it is tried, will always fail - like the last one. Sylvaria, simply put, is too unstable. Kalden is a brilliant negotiator to get his army to work together - to even make Fascists work with Socialists without coercion is, simply, unimaginable with any other man."
"Kalden is no moron - he knows that, without a symbol, Sylvaria will fall again - only, the next time it falls, the only person willing or capable to pick it up will be the Intendant. Thus - he needs a symbol. In short - he needs me."
"Industrialization will be a slow process. Especially with the fact that, with the exception of the uranium deposits south of here, we have few natural resources to speak of. No coal, or iron - and crucially, no oil. My father had overseen the industrial works of Vaylenburgh under a royal company - something that had constituted decades of progress."
"I have no doubt that industry should be rebuilt - but what form it should take, is, indeed, still a matter to be decided."

---

OOC
Going to hold off on posting my usual length posts until Eurasia and GU start posting again.

---

“Agreed, you are too important a symbol for him to do without.” Sir Roland says. The prince was supposed to be much more adoring…
“Kalden can be persuaded. Or if necessary, replaced.” He says, contemplating his wine glass. Then he had an idea. “You mentioned industrialization? I…” he chuckles. “I know a guy. Richest man in Daeva. He has access to steel, oil, iron, a private army, food. Anything one could want for a developing country.” He says with a smile. “Would you like me to make the call, your highness? He is a fellow royal.”

[The Eur-asian Federation]

Joint Military Base Istomin, Sylvarian Mainland

After a considerable investment of men, money, and materials, the airport had been finally finished. There was plenty of room left to expand should the need arise, nevermind the fact there would be an underground expansion, but the base was now largely in working condition. The sound of roaring machinery soon moved from the airport to the shoreside as construction on the naval base began, being replaced with the roaring of engines and barking of orders.

For the airforce, they couldn't have asked for more. An airbase in close range of both Havenbrook and Sylvanthol was going to do wonders, the fact that their planes over Havenbrook would be able to stay in the air longer to rain hellfire down on the cannibals was just a bonus. For the army, the speed at which they could get supplies and men to and from the frontlines was liberating as convoys of trucks drove to Sylvanthol, guarded by Kalden's men from any communist partisans.

Of course, the navy (or rather the attache they had sent over) were rather unconcerned with the state of the port. Kalden's navy wasn't top of the line afterall, and there wouldn't be any cargo ships or warships coming through the southern strait any time soon with the Coalition continuing to press down on their necks like that. Perhaps if an agreement was reached, they could cut out the hassle of going through North Sylvaria and just get men and supplies straight into the base. Of course, the situation in Sylvanthol was far different than the base.

---

Sylvanthol

The three men walked through the deserted street, carefully examining their surroundings. "This place is a ghost town, where are all the hostiles?"

"Will you keep it down? We're doing a simple sweep operation, nice and easy, no need for you to jinx it." The man let go of the PKM's barrel, wiping some sweat off his face.

"Georgy, how can you hold that thing with one arm?" The smaller man next to him asked, keeping his eyes locked on his surroundings.

"What do you think? I'm a 'roid monkey." The man holding the PKM signaled for them to take a left.

"I ain't ever seen nobody hold a PKM with one hand, even if they shredded." The man flipped to semi-auto firemode on his AK-12.

"Whatever, just keep your eyes on the environment. I don't want us getting jumped." The man sniffled, wiping his brow again.

"Wait. Over there." The man holding the Saiga-12 pointed to a metro entrance.

"Shit, those are cannibals aren't they?" The man raised his AK-12, aiming down the sight.

"Move up real slow, I'll set up an MG spot nearby." The man with the PKM signaled for them to move up, as he walked into a nearby dilapidated building.

Carefully examining the rooms as he walked through in the darkness, the floorboards on the stairs creaked. Spotting a room with a collapsed roof, he moved up. Seeing that the room was on the corner of the building, it was the perfect MG nest as it overlooked the entire street.

"CONTACT!" He heard as he snapped his attention to the source of the sound.

"Shit!" He spotted maybe, 5, 10 cannibals? Fuck, no time to waste. He began setting up the bipod taking aim at the band of cannibals.

"Dagh, fuck! I'm hit!" The man with the AK-12 fell down. He squeezed the trigger, Ratatatatata! The rounds ripped through the cannibals like Swiss cheese.

"They're taking Andrei!" He snapped his attention over, seeing that the animals were dragging his comrade into the metro. "HELP!" He unleashed a flurry of rounds at the metro entrance but to no avail.

"Shit, they took Andrei! Get down here, we gotta get him!" The man with the Saiga-12 yelled, "It's no use! We'll just get jumped ourselves down there!" He yelled back, swearing under his breath. How could he have let this happen?

The man on the street, formed his hand into a fist, holding his Saiga-12 by his side. Slinging it over his shoulder, he grabbed his walkie talkie and paused for a moment before speaking.

"Moskva-8-1-3 to Kvartet. Requesting flamethrower support."

---

Sylvarian Desert

Finally, that damned city was on the horizon. He'd finally get to talk with this Prince, it only took, oh, 3 or 4 near-death experiences? Dagh, unbelievable. Just airlift someone in and you'd get the situation down with. Maybe it was about keeping it low key, God knows what those slavers would do if they found out that Kalden or they were gonna talk with this Prince about an alliance. That border agreement would be torn up and they'd have to evacuate everyone by the end of the month.

Nevermind all that, he needed to get some rest. Good think he had a dictionary with him, helped pass the time as he learnt the language, and now he'd be able to use it to talk to this Prince or - better yet - Get a nice bed to sleep on away from the heat of the scorching sun. Shame he ran out of ammo for that AK, but he'd be able to sell it for cash now that it was of no use to him. His Makarov would do him just fine against whatever bandit or mugger he encountered out in the desert or in the city. Just gotta figure out how to get to him first.

---

Sylvarian Waters

"God damn! What was that!?" The mechanic put his fingers in his ears for a moment. Even he could hear the roaring of god knows what was topside.

Rushing over to one of the phones on the side of the wall, he held the receiver up to the side of his face. "Engine room to command. What's going on out there? We just heard something loud boom by!"

The officer who picked up the phone stuttered for a moment, "Uh, command to e-engine room. Two unidentified aerial objects flew over us, our radar failed to identify them. We don't have a full crew manning RADAR, but we have orders to not turn back under any c-circumstances."

The mechanic clenched his brow in disbelief, "Engine bay to command. Are we under attack?"

"Uh, command to engine room. Negative, stay calm. We are flying under the flag of the rightful government of uh, Sylvaria." The officer hung up on the mechanic, "Hey! Hey! Did you just hang up on me? Shit."

[Arakhkhar]

Another Day

•Havenbrook•

---

Kalden, was, of course, one of the most busy men in Sylvaria - the management of a country, mostly without foreigners to hold his hand as he did so, was an incredible feat for but a general. It is, however, perhaps evident that Kalden - more than anyone, had exhibited the qualities of a leader - that this be made evident in his handling of the war, of the nation, and of the political situation, was proof enough of that.

Yet, Kalden was a man that was also stuck in an unenviable position - attempting to rebuild the country, almost from scratch - and caught between superpowers, a rock and a hard place, with neither being friendly to the other.

And on that matter, what he would get an offer from the Eurasians - one offering the sale of fighter aircraft, for his own needs. Ultimately, however - Kalden could simply not afford such a deal - he knew, simply, he would not gain air supremacy in any future war. That was but a fact, and nothing would change that, in his view - with the war winding down to a close, he would not need close-air-support extensively.

Rather, he wished to conserve his money - of which he had a limited supply - for Surface-to-air missiles, and for investing into ways to better hide his infantry from aerial reconnaissance. This, he felt, would be far more successful than purchasing fighter aircraft, only to watch them get eviscerated by an Arakhkhari BVRAAM. Specifically, his men began to inquire about the potential of acquiring S-300s, or S-400s.

•Sylvanthol•

---

With Arakhkhar's interests at stake - the Shock Infantry continued its push. In that time, the North Sylvarian Shock infantry had begun to take on a reputation of their own. Their armor, distinctive from that of Arakhkhari Shock Infantry, commanded respect from their shorter, less capable countrymen - and it commanded fear into the hearts of cannibals, as they engaged in what was effectively a purge of the entire North-Eastern quarter,

They would break down doors in every house - going room to room, for traces of human flesh - purging anyone suspected of cannibalism. Kick down the door - look for the blood. When it is found, then there will be more added in a very short amount of time - as the culprit is dragged out, often screaming - lined up against a wall - and promptly liquidated. It was all rather pitiless work - these were, in their view, human monsters - the darkest impulses of humanity, concentrated in one insane cult.

So prevalent was the number of executions that dedicated squads had to be established for that role - overseeing the liquidation of suspected cannibals. In those men - watching row after row of cannibals, foaming at the mouth - lined against a grimy concrete wall, shot, loaded into the back of a truck, and to the next batch - it was desensitizing. Indeed - there was very little which they had not seen, at this point. Some of them couldn't quite take it - watching so many be killed, and loaded to be burnt in someplace else.

Yet - it was necessary. And, now, an order.

Code: Select all

TSENTRALKOMMANTORDAT #9012
VEKTOR VII ENCRYPTION
============================
OPERATION CODE: LIQUIDATE.
============================
ALL INDIVIDUALS IN THE VICINITY OF SYLVANTHOL SUSPECTED OF WILLFULLY ENGAGING IN CANNIBALISTIC ACTS ARE TO BE SUBJECT TO IMMEDIATE LIQUIDATION.
PROSECUTION TO BE COMMITTED AT WILL, AND AT DISCRETION.


Defiance was death. And so was the prosecution of such orders - in short, with that order, 30,000 people had been ordered liquidated - so much as they could be called people, that is. At this point, the line was rather unclear about whether or not the cannibals were even sane at all.

Yet, for Inrik the Devourer, he remained... well, insane, but conscious in his actions - and able to reason. He did recall how to plan a military campaign - and this would be the... 'defense' of Sylvanthol. Using a network of hand-powered rail cars, he could quickly relay messages and supplies inside the metro. Certain hermetic doors would be sealed, to close off avenues of advance for both Shock Infantry, Coalition Infantry, and the Nationalists. it was brutal work, of course - plotting ambushes at stations, from service tunnels, from anywhere and everywhere they could.

•New Vvarreach•

---

“Agreed, you are too important a symbol for him to do without.” Sir Roland says. The prince was supposed to be much more adoring…
“Kalden can be persuaded. Or if necessary, replaced.” He says, contemplating his wine glass. Then he had an idea. “You mentioned industrialization? I…” he chuckles. “I know a guy. Richest man in Daeva. He has access to steel, oil, iron, a private army, food. Anything one could want for a developing country.” He says with a smile. “Would you like me to make the call, your highness? He is a fellow royal.”

The Prince studied the face of Sir Roland. He saw in him the eyes of a weasel, despite his overall otherwise masculine appearance. It was something he had seen before - a predator on the stupidity of others. Nothing to be angry about - but, rather, a simple fact of life that such people are quite common.
"Replacing Kalden is out of the question. Kalden is, in and of himself, a symbol. He has led the country throughout this civil war, mostly to their benefit. No - he needs me for the future. Rather, the monarchy - to create a non-political position for the head of state that keeps the country from falling apart. Kalden, in that regard, is thinking ahead."
The Prince sips a wine tentatively - with surprising grace, considering his exile.
"He doesn't need me, so to speak. He needs what I represent. Kalden, however, is the only thing holding the Nationalists together. If he dies - so does free Sylvaria, and with it, we become another province of Arakhkhar. That is not an option."
He finishes one of the last portions of steak.
"What is offered for free, my friend, is usually for a price not monetary. I would presume, of course, that it is the offer. Even so, I control but a virtual hamlet on the edge of Sylvaria. I do not yet have the authority to make such a rash decision."
He decided to pontificate.
"Once, in the desert... I received a gift. A particularly powerful warlord, had wished to give me a truck full of gold."
He lets the thought sink into Roland's head for a moment, before continuing.
"I declined. I had suspected something was wrong then, which was later confirmed to be true - as another man accepted, and found out that the truck's interior indeed contained gold - along with several barrels of atomic waste, that had been opened."
He leaned back.
"The question is... what strings are attached, Sir Roland? No one offers so much, for so little in return - so, something will be demanded of us. State that which he would want, first."

•Black Site, Siladii Province, The Intendancy of Northern Sylvaria.•

---

The prisoners had been transported in silence - locked in the back of a van. Each, shackled to mounted bars inside the van - given some small recuperation in the form of a nutrient bar before the travel. For several hours, they drove. And in that windowless van - things seemed more bleak than ever.
The prisoners looked at each other in silence. Were they being sent to Arakhkhar? This, obviously, wasn't an execution - if it had been, they would be dead already.

The man who had selected them was none other than Doctor Tain Enaros. Prominent figure in the collaborationist North Sylvarian government, a doctor of psychology - and a pioneer of the emerging field of the integration of computers to the human brain. He had been a rather prominent member of the Sylvarian scientific community - and was often shunned due to his tendency towards eccentricity - particularly in the realm of cybernetics. However, another group had taken interest in his work - Arakhkhar.

He was offered a laboratory, staff, access to Arakhkhar's scientific database and effectively, a blank-check to carry out his research.
What he wanted with the prisoners was not yet known to any but him, and his superiors.

The van pulled into the checkpoint - a card was shown to the Civil Protection officer manning the post, and a great chainlink gate would open itself automatically, to permit the van entry. The compound had been constructed out of an older Ministry of State Security site - dating back to the 1940s, which had been fitted with automatic doors and security systems.

The van drove onto a vehicle elevator - a 'ka-chunk' was heard from the machinery, as the hydraulics began to descend - bringing the van into the ground. The ceiling closed above them - letting no light shine upon them but the dim red lights of the compound.

What was to become of those prisoners? That, of course, was something to be decided.

[Rhastov]

Sylvanthol
The treads of rubber, and the sound of a rumbling engine - such was what accompanied the black-colored armored vehicle, as it made its way. In the back, a number of Shock Troopers sat - but joining them, was the pale face of Subcommander Asina - the officer in charge of a full battalion, and the representative chosen to speak with the Rhastovians due to her limited knowledge in speaking Russian.

They were to meet with the Rhastovians on a bridge - and so, they approached the designated location with some anxiety.
After all, they had never met with members of the Coalition in person. Many had the impression that they would be shot on sight - yet, they had been given a task, and their sole mandate was to obey it.

And so - the IFV rolled onto the bridge - and the hatch opened, letting light fill the vehicle - as the Troopers dismounted, with a hard thud with each landing on her boots. The decision was made for the Subcommander to remain inside, with Shock troopers remaining to guard her, until the Rhastovians arrived.

Several minutes passed by before a loud rumble was heard from the other side of the bridge. A few BMP-2s followed by a couple BTR-80s appeared from behind a pile of rubble, the humming of the engines and the clacking of the treads drowning out any other noises. They stop just before the bridge, troops pouring out of the vehicles and taking positions around the perimeter.

The Rhastovian commander steps out of his BMP, holding a little notebook with useful phrases in Arakhkhari and some translations. Upon meeting Subcommander Asina, he salutes and opens the notebook.

"Good morning. I am Captain Ivan Niculae of the 7th Company of the 101st Marine Mechanized Infantry Brigade." he says in broken Arakhkhari.
"Do you speak russian, by any chance?" replies the subcommander in russian, hoping to find a common language to speak.
Ivan's face brightens up a little, relieved that he doesn't have to run everything through any sort of translator. "Oh, yes. I do."
The subcommander introduces herself and the discussion about the capital begins, focusing on establishing control zones, humanitarian corridors, the cannibal problem, and a direct telephone line between the two sides to avoid any confusion.

Sylvarian Waters

"God damn! What was that!?" The mechanic put his fingers in his ears for a moment. Even he could hear the roaring of god knows what was topside.

Rushing over to one of the phones on the side of the wall, he held the receiver up to the side of his face. "Engine room to command. What's going on out there? We just heard something loud boom by!"

The officer who picked up the phone stuttered for a moment, "Uh, command to e-engine room. Two unidentified aerial objects flew over us, our radar failed to identify them. We don't have a full crew manning RADAR, but we have orders to not turn back under any c-circumstances."

The mechanic clenched his brow in disbelief, "Engine bay to command. Are we under attack?"

After buzzing the ship, the aircraft began monitoring it, flying at higher altitude and relaying the information back to the coalition.

"Rostograd, Dolphin 1-1. The ship does not seem to stop. Requesting permission to sink it."
"Dolphin 1-1, this is Rostograd. Permission denied. Do NOT sink the ship unless it becomes hostile towards you."

On the bridge of the Rostograd, the radio operator contacted one of the Rhastovian battlecruiser to send it on an interception course to the Eurasian destroyer and deny it access to the gulf.