Expedition Myrobia [IC]

[Yohannes]

Eastern Myrobia Company - An Excerpt II


They put me in the garden to rake
My alternative baking a sweetened cake
Mutiny and revenge I start to formulate
Abdul the Sahib say must be my rightful name

The coming of the guilders^[1] was the last great wave of the flood of foreign influence that had steadily been consolidating their grip upon the trading settlement of Eastern Myrobia. Some were of the noble Lamonian sort, while others were of the sharp-witted Knootian, brutal Scandinvan and crusading Allanean - arrived they have done most assuredly from almost each and every single one of mother nations to which the nineteen countries was well acquainted to. After that the waters recede, leaving a rich sediment, while the wind shifts and blows from the hinterland. The settlement, instead of perpetually receiving, gives out her own plenty. She becomes profuse in the creation of native forms - of the rather uncivilised, tribal sort. And so the Governor and Company of the Realm were dictated, and she became but one of the many that would soon to follow upon His Majesty’s Law.

Her own people - the native people - were first discriminated against, and inevitably assimilated within; as well resist she could not, for the hundred of thousands were her people only in number, not a million or more. Meanwhile, the gentlemen of Lindblum slowly but steadily conquer the surrounding native land with the quintessential coastal hand of His Majesty’s floating steel; the Commonwealth and the Phlegethon, De Ruyter and the supposedly civilian Wiremu. The native, like so many of their kind, had come into the fate of the befallen - the uncivilised, and most certainly, backward. But His Majesty’s green and yellow banner was enough in and by itself, for the mere presence of the floating steels against the splash of blue and foam of white was enough to convince the damned that that would be true.

And so needless bloodshed was avoided, and the suzerainty was officiated. But the natives were quite simply the gentlemen’s sponges. They sucked up the settlements’ money with their vagabondry and rather lacking tendency. Neither could live, nor be enslaved. They bred in not just one or two, but seven and ten. But the sanctity of the market would surely be reserved for the white men, and so they predicted. And so they were right. Unemployed and bereft of opportunities; enslaved in all but formality and piece of paper they most certainly were. The white men ruled above the field, destiny on their few left hand, fate of the befallen on their few right. They supplied the sinews of that quintessential colonial elite standing, and reserved only the lowest of the low labour for the damned many.

Some of the colonials became very rich, like Hermann von Klautz, Sir Gregory Hildenborough, and of course, the future Premier-Chancellor herself, General Beatrix of Alexandria. Timber, rubber and spices were forcibly exported, and Lindblum machinery as well as Alexandrian fabric were imported gaggly, if not with the subtlety of His Majesty’s Law. Capital were brought in, and soon enough the spectre of the many Cid era houses for His settlement subject, palaces for his Governor-Generals and schools for the gifted were constructed. Branches were opened, the simplest of manufacturing were carved into reality. And the Regent had more prestige upon his hand than even Brahne during her height. From a backward trading outpost were made one of the many that would soon to shine their light for His Majesty’s Realm.

In the reign of Cid IV the famous chapter begin. It read;

“Eastern Myrobia Company - A Compilation”

---

1. The word ‘Guilder’ in Yohannes is the same as ‘merchant of foreign origin.’

[Servinta]

"Aye, you wish to exploit the regions resources?" John said looking onward at the man. "He seems tense" he thought to himself, quickly looking around to see if he was hiding anything he didnt see at first. "Well we are here to survey the land, and create a FOB for future operations in this theater, it may be mutually beneficial to work together?" he added to the other man. He held out his hand in a gesture of good will.

Back in the trucks his men were scrambling to get intel on this men, those who werent manning the guns of course. "Sir, the Servintans check out. BIS confirms their intent" piped up Sergeant Snow, the comms expert. The gunners waited in their trucks, fingers on the trigger, but now they were scanning the nearby forest and hilltops, there was a certain feeling these men were getting, and it didnt feel like a friendly one.

"Ah well ... what a coincidence I was just about to offer the same thing to you, as long as your men do not interfere with my operations then I'll be happy to assist you where ever I can." Khabarov shook the extended hand and was starting to see a partnership with these Birtonians as beneficial to the whole mission.

While the ten conscripts that had been given to him by the Servintan Expeditionary force were good men to have as guards, they were not exactly the brightest of the army, as they had proven earlier when one of them checked for dirt in his rifle by starring down the barrel and asking his comrade to cock it to make sure it worked correctly.Apart form the fact that many of the Birtonian rangers seemed a bit more well trained they also could provide a good basecamp from which the federation could send scouting teams or resource extraction units after securing rights with the locals of course.

Khabarov glanced back when he heard a commotion at the rear of his convoy and watched as Urla appeared followed by the gaggle of conscripts who were now caked in dust.Hurriedly they threw several small E-tools into the rear van and loaded up into the passenger vehicles that were still idling and ready to move on his command, Peprok just kept on smiling.Urla moved up the convoy and after checking with each driver he gave a slight nod to Khabarov and the Birtonian Ranger, signaling the problems had been disposed of and the expedition was ready to move.

"Well let us be off then, I'm heading towards this ruin in the midst of the map here if you and your men would care to join me?" Khabarov was certainly interested in moving into the center of the area where he could gain a foothold and spread the message of socialism far and wide.With the deal hammered out he hopped into the lead car and tapped his driver on the shoulder so that they would begin moving forward, with a sputter the car lurched forward and the Servintan convoy left in a cloud of dirt from the underlying sand.

[Myrobia]

PokraApep temple area, North-eastern jungles of Myrobia

The feral tribesmen were wild with excitement as they ran about the jungle around the slowly moving captors of the sun god Ra, they hooted and hollered as they ran about and shouted curses in the dark tongue that had been taught by the priests in their tribe.Though they had captured this creature they were weary of actually getting near it as the only one brave enough to carry the nets that held it in its unconscious state were Ta and Py, it was better this way as it was Ta who had found it and it was Py who had knocked it out.Py lead the way while holding the nets front in his left hand as he pushed his way past the low hanging vines and bushes with his right, Ta was holding the rear with one hand of the net and the other on his spear which was pointed with a trembling hand at the creature in the net.

"Why do you fear it Ta, it is out cold?" Py asked, pushing another vine tangle aside.

"You've heard the priest's stories, Ra is a god of the burning sun and other evil magics, its servants are likely no less evil." Ta said as he continued to eye the sleeping thing.

"It is asleep for now and once we have brought it to the priests then it will no longer be our problem." Py stated with a whack of his hand at a nearing feral tribesman who ventured to close to the captive.

"Idiot, do not get near the beast, only the warriors of Apep may handle such an evil." Py snorted at the foolish tribesman who whimpered as he ran back to rejoin the wild mob.

Finally the jungles grip around them lessened and the sun shown clearly through the trees as they entered the banks of the Tipo river, brown and muddy from the rains that visited the area often.Below them the boats were still under the guard of a few other lower temple guardsmen, their jaws dropped when they saw the figure in the netting and they quickly hurried to get a canoe clear for the captors to transport their loot over the river and to the other side.With little care they threw the net and its occupant into the dugout canoe then started to paddle across.They didn't know how to swim and the crocodiles that inhabited the rivers banks were a hungry sort, so the ride lasted as shortly as humanly possible.

Soon they reached the opposite bank along with the rest of the search party and they quickly moved out of the canoe, leaving it for the others to carry as they were of no use to the captors as they carried the netting.After a short walk through he footpaths that cris-crossed this area around the temple complex and the tribal village that surrounded it.They were stopped by a few patrolling guards who protected the temple grounds but upon seeing what they were doing they were allowed through with little argument.

In the temple ground a crowd of hundreds of villagers was amassed after hearing that something had been captured during the hunt, along with them stood the shadowy figures of the priests and the high temple guards.Out stepped the high priest Ar'aharsh his dislike of the sun resulting in his face being covered by a low hood that veiled his face in blackness, his arms outreached in a welcoming of his loyal warriors return with the greatest prize.Beside him his trusted chief of the guard and the tribes most feared warrior It'oka stood silent resolute with his skull mask covering his hateful glaring he gave to the lowly Py and Ta.

"Welcome home my children, you have done well in your task I see." Ar'aharsh greeted his followers who bowed at his mere presence.

"Yes your ever holiness, we have captured what must be a servant of the much reviled god Ra despite its attempt to cast a foul curse on us using these." Py pulled an assortment of items from his knapsack and presented them to the holy man while still bowing in reverence.

"Such is the evil of Ra that he would use these amulets to attack the chosen of Apep, but they are weak to our gods power." Ar'aharsh explained.

"Thank you your grace." Both Py and Ta said in unison.

"Come now we must prepare the prisoner for tonight's festival, everyone will be dying to be there." Ar'aharsh noted as he lead them into the torch lit temple entrance.

[Congreveopia]

Jay Horowitz, Orbital Skiff, over the Atlantic Ocean:

“Lifeguard One is ready to detach superfluous modules.” said Lynn.

“You are go to jettison all non-reentry sections, Lifeguard One.” said Sky Control.

“Roger that.” said Lynn, opening the cover on a button and preparing to press it. “Jettisoning in five… four… three…”

Their capsule shook as if something had hit it. The propulsion ring split into four sections, and explosive bolts on each detached it from the cargo module. Next the payload module broke away, and finally the cargo module separated. Each was cut away with explosive bolts, shaking the craft like it was a kernel in a popcorn machine.

“Automatic separation successful.” said Lynn, moving her finger off the button and letting the cover close. “Manual activation unnecessary.”

“Ungh.” said Jay. “I can see why we decided to move away from carrying everyone on these things.”

“Eh.” said Lynn “It’s a good design, it just doesn’t have exactly the gentlest ride.”

Jay looked over the landing procedure again. He was acting as the in-case-of-emergency pilot, so he’d be taking over flying if the automatic system failed and Lynn was incapacitated for some reason. He sat and quietly waited for a couple of minutes. Reentry was almost like his time in the Platinum Soldiers: long periods of boredom and reviewing procedures, punctuated by brief moments of excitement and terror.

Jay glanced out the window. He saw the ground, and then the sky, and then the ground again…

“Nexus, are we meant to be tumbling?” Jay asked, switching to communication with Nexus alone.

“It’s not ideal, but it’s barely a problem and it would take too much fuel to correct.” said Nexus.

“I didn’t think these things had an omnidirectional heat shield…” said Jay.

“It’ll naturally settle into its optimal reentry attitude before substantial heating occurs.” said Nexus “Er… I hope.”

“Oh shut up.” said Jay. he switched back to the main channel, and looked out the window again. He then noticed that a pen tied to the dashboard was pointing towards him rather than floating freely. He prodded it experimentally, and it slowly swung back to pointing at him.

“Gravity’s returning.” said Lynn. “Well, technically its acceleration from the drag the atmosphere’s exerting on us, but either way it’s time to get settled.”

Jay remembered this from astronaut training. Now was the point to get comfortable in the seat and tighten your restraints before the real acceleration kicked in. He shifted a bit, putting himself in the center of the seat, then began pulling on various belts, tighten the complex rig that would keep him in place during landing. After a bit of pulling, he felt like he was secure enough and glanced out the window. All he could see was the glowing cone of plasma that now enveloped the spacecraft. It was weird, though. As he watched, he could have sworn that the glow got dimmer not brighter.

“It’s the window.” said Nexus, answering his unspoken question “The outer layer of the window is burning and darkening.”

“Interesting.” Jay thought. He reached up and batted the pen again. This time it swung back to its position almost as fast as it would have normally. He batted it again, and it settled even faster. In fact, he noticed his arm was getting heavier and heavier. During a normal reentry, the Orbital Skiff would max out at a bit under four gees, but this wasn’t a normal reentry. He looked at the display in front of him, and saw that already they were at three gees and the number was still climbing. He already felt crushed into his seat as the number passed four and continued. He could only imagine what it would be like if he hadn’t been forced to regularly exercise in the ring and had to acclimatize to gravity again. Finally, after just passing six the number began to drop again. He was relieved as it gradually fell back to more manageable levels. He’d never imagined his watch could feel that heavy before.

“Lynn, please stand by to confirm drogue chute activation.” said Sky Control.

Jay sighed. Of course it wasn’t over yet.

“Standing by.” said Lynn “Expecting deployment in seven… six… five… four… three… two… one…”

*whump* The yank knocked the wind out of Jay. He struggled for breath as the chute slowed the capsule.

“Parachute… deployed successfully… Sky Control.” said Lynn, recovering far faster than Jay.

Jay closed his eyes and tried to think calm thoughts. The capsule tossed around on the end of the drogue chute’s cord like a yo-yo. He was knocked in every direction as they slowed down. He listened carefully and realized that he could hear wind outside. They were subsonic now, and he could hear the air rushing past the capsule. He opened his eyes and relaxed as the capsule calmed down. It would be a couple more minutes until the next stage.

“Lynn, please stand by to confirm main parachute deployment.” Sky Control said a couple minutes later.

“Roger that.” said Lynn “Do I need to do the count-off?”

“Not really.” said Sky Control “Just yell or something if it doesn’t deploy.”

They waited a few seconds and then felt another tug, more gentle than the drogue chute’s deployment.

“Success.” said Lynn “I repeat: main parachute deployment successful.”

Jay looked around the capsule. The main parachute had deployed. They were calmly drifting down to the surface. He’d been living on Destiny for a couple months, but now he was home. He was really back on Earth. Less an hour ago, he had been up in space: no air, no sound, just the Orbital Skiff, silently drifting through the void above a massive blue sphere. Now he was back home. He was in a tiny capsule floating down through the atmosphere, but he was really back on Earth.

Jay heard a *clunk* sound, followed by two more. Then the room brightened. Natural light flowed in. He looked out the window, marveling at the blue sky outside.

“Lynn, confirm separation of heat shield and outer window-glass.” said Sky Control.

“Confirmed.” said Lynn.

Scott saw a cloud of white stuff billow up from outside, covering the view out the window.

“Confirm jettisoning of fuel and other pressurized tanks.” said Sky Control.

“Confirmed.” said Lynn.

The seats suddenly shoved forwards. If Jay hadn’t been strapped in, he would have smashed into the control panel.

“Confirm seat shock-absorbers ready and armed.” said Sky Control.

“Confirmed.” said Lynn.

They waited a bit longer while the capsule completed the final leg of its decent. If they were landing in Congreveopia, helicopters would already be waiting nearby for them to land. They weren’t landing in Congreveopia, though.

Jay felt the pod hit the first branch and smash its way down through the canopy. Some branches tried to slow their fall, but they all instantly buckled under the weight two ton capsule. Just as the pod was about to hit the jungle floor, eight rockets in the base fired for a split second, slowing it further and then it smashed into the ground. The shock absorbers did their best to lessen the impact, but it still felt like the capsule was hit by a train as it slammed to the ground.

Jay was on solid ground, though. This was his domain. It had been three years, but he’d never forgotten his training from the Platinum Soldiers. The exit hatch was above him. He reached up and hit the emergency release button on the hatch, causing it to shoot off into the air. He sprang upwards, setting one foot on the control panel and the other on the top of a crate of supplies. Reaching down, he grabbed his rifle and then stuck his head out of the capsule. Setting his rifle on the rim of the hatch, he opened his helmet’s visor and took a deep breath of the fresh air. Space was awesome, but he couldn’t deny that being back on Earth was nice in its own way. As he took another deep breath he realised that he heard a rumbling sound approaching. He grabbed his rifle, and crouched a bit, taking cover half-way out of the capsule. It took him a moment to identify the sound, but then he realised it was a car’s engine. He intentionally kept his rifle lowered, but got ready. He wasn’t about to just open fire first, but he didn’t know who this might be. Finally, a distinctly military looking vehicle plowed through some bushes and emerged into view.

“Hello!” yelled Jay, waving with one hand and keeping a firm grip on the rifle with the other “Greetings from Congreveopia! Seen any of our astronauts around here?”

OOC: BTW, it is Saint Achille’s Whistler that found my capsule.

[Saint Achille]

LT Stephen Carlisle-Red Horn Actual
Allied States-Maraken University Joint Expedition
Lifeguard One LZ-Myrobia

The Whistler rolled over a particularly thick section of brush with a deep growl. Who the hell heard the sound this pig makes and thought, yeah, that sounds like a whistle, maybe we’ll call it the Whistler? Carlisle harbored a deep antipathy towards the mainstay of the Allied States Army motor pool. It was lightly armored and underpowered, originally meant for base security and light transport, not combat patrols. But during the war with the Free City it was what was available to them. He had been a sergeant then, before enrolling at Camperdown College and commissioning. His unit was on patrol, show the resistance movement who owns the streets, all that bullshit. The round from the AT4 sizzled through the side like it wasn’t even there. This was still early on in the insurgency, before Soldiers began welding slabs of scrap metal onto their Whistlers to add some modicum of protection. Carlisle was lucky, the rocket hit the driver and he was in the back. He only sustained shrapnel wounds to the face, leaving a network of scars across his tanned features. This Whistler was okay, however. It had been so thoroughly modified for special operations work that very few original parts still remained. It had a better engine, improved suspension, titanium plates, and one-way bulletproof glass.

As the noise from the engine and the crunching underbrush softened, he heard something else ahead. The sound brought back unbidden images: the driver struggling to hold his intestines inside, the fire spreading through the compartment, the gunner shrieking as automatic weapons tore through his armor. Carlisle dismissed these as soon as quickly as they came.

“Rocket, straight ahead.”

“I don’t see a trail.”

“Looks clear.”

“Alright, we move forward, but cautious-like, stay frosty.”

They crept forward, the men with their rifles in hand. Carlisle was ready to slide his out of the door panel at the first sign of trouble. The trees thinned somewhat ahead and Carlisle saw the source of the noise: a capsule with the nose buried in the ground, trailing lines above it like a marionette. A single man in a suit similar to the one of the astronaut they had found stood in front of the capsule, rifle tight in his hand. The armed astronaut raised his hand and waved,

“Hello! Greetings from Congreveopia! Seen any of our astronauts around here?”

The man seemed to be the genuine article. His uniform matched the other man’s, and there was little reason for anyone but a concerned nation looking for its own to be wasting money and time scattering astronauts across a jungle. Carlisle, however, did not live as many years as he has by making assumptions.

“Vincent, get Rover on the line. Tell them we have made contact with what appears to be another astronaut. Give them current time and your best fix on our location.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Kolinsky, Greaves, cover me. Keep your weapons down, but if he so much as looks at you wrong, you drop him.”

“Yes, sir.”

Carlisle grabbed his Tavor and swung the door open. He made sure to keep the titanium plating and one-way glass between himself and the astronaut as the door swung open. In his earpiece, he heard Vincent radio in their contact. As Carlisle stepped around the door, he set his conditions, an engrained behavior that came naturally to him now, even when he was on leave and back in the real world. Condition: Target raises weapon above waist. Action: Hammer pair to chest. Condition: Failure to stop. Action: Single shot, groin. Condition: Hostile is unaccompanied. Action: Move forward, secure weapon, assess target. Condition: More hostiles inside capsule. Action: Demand surrender. Condition: Refusal. Action: Take Mk. 5 fragmentation grenade, remove thumb safety, pull pin, release handle, count to four, toss into hatch.

The lieutenant’s earpiece crackled. The message was garbled and hard to understand, but he could pick out some words,

“…not copy…currently five…say aga…ot cop…peat last.”

Fuck jungles.

Carlisle locked eyes with the astronaut. He recognized in them the same look he saw in his own men. This man was a soldier, and an experienced one.

“Lieutenant Carlisle, Saint Achille Special Forces. We traced a GPS locator on one. He’s in the vehicle with a broken leg. We’re transporting him to our camp. We need to make it back before nightfall.”

Mansour Taha-Professor of Botany
Allied States-Maraken University Joint Expedition
Camp Jackknife-Myrobia

Mansour and Jack Inlay, the zoologist, were recording the local wildlife. They had not strayed far from the camp, and could still see it through the trees if they looked hard enough. Many of the plants and animals seemed to be previously undiscovered or unrecorded, and they bustled happily from tree to tree, taking pictures, recording videos, and making notes.

The two scientists had been friends at the university for many years. They had first met at an inter-departmental softball game. Mansour was natural shortstop and was one of the few fielders capable of handling the sharp hits from Inlay, a former baseball standout himself. That they were both chosen for the expedition spoke volumes about the quality of their work. Both were well published and well known figures in their respective circles. Neither of them were strangers to Africa, but what they saw here was unlike anything they had seen before. Their faces seemed to be frozen in expressions of astonishment as they cataloged each new specimen. The next day, they would come back, Taha with cutting tools, and Inlay with a small caliber rifle, and collect what specimens they could for further research. But for now, they were content to just marvel in the beauty of nature.

“Hey! Monty! Come over.”

Inlay shouted as loud as he could in a whisper, to avoid spooking the already skittish animals.

“What is it?”

Jack stood over a fallen branch, taking pictures of what appeared to be the largest praying mantis either of them had ever seen.

“It looks like an new species of mantis. You think they’ll name it after me?”

“I can see it now, Jack, right in the guidebooks. A picture of this mantis and below it Uglius motherfuckerus.”

Inlay laughed and kept taking pictures. A sharp crack made them look up. A small bushbuck was picking its way towards a fruit bearing bush and had stepped on a branch. It looked towards the two men, who kept perfectly still. Assuaged, it went back to the bush and began nibbling. As they watched, two massive fronds slowly swung shut around the bushbuck, enveloping it as if it were a fly in a Venus flytrap. They stood agape at what they were witnessing. The fronds finished their inward march and they could see no movement within. Monty started laughing,

“Oh my god. That is the most terrifying thing I think I have ever seen.”

Jack could not respond, he was still staring at the plant. Finally, after much thought and drawing from his years of scientific training and fieldwork experiences, he concluded,

“Holy fuck, that plant just ate a goddamn deer.”

The two professors began cautiously picking their way back out of the jungle, being sure to watch for plants sneaking up behind them.

[Capisaria]

Three Kilometers North of the Gates
The survey was going well. The uplink to a CGSS node was succesful, and Philip, the french scientist assigned to the mission, was currently augmenting the old map they had. The inside of the truck was about 10 feet wide and 14 feet long. He hated the Traditional measurements, but unfortunately it was made in the one state in Capisaria still using it. Metric was better. Meliké was sitting in the back, reading through the many books about Capisaria.

"It looks like there's a pass a few more kilometers north of here. The map is being augmented now, we should have a slightly better version of things tomorrow."

"Thats' cool. Wait, so there are THREE Official languages in Capisaria?"

"Well, technically there are four, but only french and english are official nationally. German and Old Capisarian are recognized minority languages"

He was as ignorant of the culture as the Myrobians no doubt were, the only difference being Meliké knew about other countries and had grown up with the modern world. They both sat up from their spots as they felt the vehicle slow down.

Leni had ordered the truck to a stop. "Meliké! Get out here". The there was no access to the truck's front from inside, but Meliké stepped outside from the door. Getting out, he saw a perfect straight line of dirt and a few singed vines, cut through the jungle. Then he looked the other direction, and in front of it where a bunch of tribal warriors, roughly 10 or so of them. A few of them had fallen to the ground, in shock.

"Put down your knives." Meliké orded Leni and John.
"But we won't be able-" started John
"Put them DOWN" Meliké reiterated.
"Follow his orders, John" Leni calmly stated.

Making eye contact with the tallest in the group, Meliké motioned for him to come closer. Meliké was wearing a white button up shirt, but underneath was a plate protecting his vital organs, and he knew how to fight if there was a miscommunication. He hoped to himself this would work. His Myrobian was a bit rusty, as he had picked up a bit from the few texts and accounts that somehow made it out of this place. "Hello." he began "We're not here to hurt you. Do you want to know what the beast is?" he finished, indicating the truck, not more than half a meter from him, its door ready to close behind him if he needed to dash inside the thick metal vehicle.

[Zunkwentania]

Day One
"We are landing now. Please sit down and buckle up immediately."
Thentas sighed in relief. He had felt nauseous on the rough trip to Myrobia. However, he knew that without effective communication, his crew could die. The Chilokverians were also there, so Thentas hoped to find them. Finally, the helicopter landed.The crew walked off the platform to feel the sun beating down on them, and the air drying their skin. They ran to the main vehicle, and they finally drove to the pass. They set up camp while observing the area.

[Atomic Utopia]

20 kilometers from the gates Nov. 8, 2014, 1200 hours
Theme Song of Post

The expedition continued on, now more fearful for their safety the soldiers carried their weapons loaded, and the expedition traveled much faster than before. The goal for the time being was no longer to conserve energy, or explore. The goal was to get as far away from that hell as possible before the enemy could strike. There had been no time to rest in the intervening night as they refueled using the HTPBR truck, nor had they had any rest since then. The images of that place still haunted them.

Now they were nearing the gate, and therefore Amsel was certain that their warlord problem was solved. He was wrong.

The halftracks and HTPBR truck penetrated the dense forest, with less than it was before, they could see nearly a kilometer in front of them.

Suddenly a person leaped in front of the second halftrack, and then an explosion was heard.

From the bushes gunfire came, the bullets wized overhead and around them, breaking glass and popping the tires on the vehicles. They took to cover from this sudden torrent of bullets and shards of broken glass by diving to the floor. However some were too late. One of the biologists, Odhrán Colum received a round to the head, dying instantly. Then Evelyn Waltraud, one of the engineers, was shot, she was wounded in her left shoulder. Amsel orderd a retreat, however that was largely unessacary as most were already running in the direction specified.

As they retreated deeper into the forest abandoning their half tracks and HTPBR truck, their exhaustion made itself felt as their tired legs began to feel like lead weights. They decided to regroup about six kilometers from the site of the attack and draw up a battle plan to retake the convoy.

“First we need to find who the enemy is, and how many attacked us. Due to the nature of our half tracks I think that they may have trouble starting them. I would like for a machine gunner and a scout to step forward.” Lt.Amsel said.

Silence reigned supreme among them after he said this as no one was willing to volunteer.

“I, Stoppelbein, volunteer for the advanced, and therefore highly dangerous machine gun position, sir!” said Kornelia Stoppelbein said enthusiastically.

“Do I have any volunteers for the scouting position?” asked Lt.Amsel

No one answered for nearly a minute

“Than I shall do that too” said Stoppelbein

She slowly crept through the forest, stopping to listen every ten paces. She soon reached the convoy, now taken by enemy troops. Her geiger counter had not detected any increased radiation near the HTPBR truck, therefore they had not done anything stupid with the truck. From her view it looked like there were only 12 or so enemy troops, so she multiplied it by two to account for those she could not see. Then she saw what she was looking for. The warlord was there, directing operations. Now that she had done some preliminary scouting she radioed back to the rest of the expedition, nearly two kilometers behind her.

I have seen the warlord, so we know it is him. I estimate there are 24 soldiers, armed with AK series weapons concentrated near the vehicles. No rad hazard has been detected, so it is probable that they have not began messing with the Het-Bur.

We will advance from the rear of the convoy, there is a dirt berm that we can use for cover. Get in front of the convoy and open fire when you see a flare fired, and please attempt to avoid hitting the half tracks. While they may be filled with bullets already, we do not need to fill them with some more. said Amsel in response.

She slowly moved to the front of the convoy, taking cover inside of the ditch alongside the road. Soon she saw a flare fired.

She fired her Automatischerakete 50 (A-50) assault rifle into the enemy position. Each round had a small gunpowder charge give it its initial velocity and ignited rockets that accelerated the bullets even faster, reaching a mach 1.5 at 30 meters from the barrel.

Then he rounds from Amsel and the rest of the soldiers flew into the crowd of enemy combatants. The enemy routed running from the halftracks and the HTPBR truck.

When she met up the rest of the expedition the events all came together.

First a forced laborer from the mine had C4 strapped to them. They used it to describe the person because corpse was sufficiently mutilated that they could not tell what gender it was. Then the ambush that was set opened fire, killing one person and leaving another wounded. When they had ran the warlord, Ihejirika, ordered his men to wait for our return. When the shooting began, he ran away from the combat zone. Waltraud had survived her wound, and was found in a nearby ditch, alive but severely injured, and therefore she would require intensive medical care. The other person shot in the skirmish, Colum, was dead, and would therefore require burial. It was determined that he would be buried at the gates, the first death on this expedition, It had also seemed that the censor had ran a different direction, away from the enemy, or at least he told them so.

Summary
One biologist dies, and the expedition advances to the gate after repelling the attack.

[Military Democracy of Birtonia]

"Aye, you wish to exploit the regions resources?" John said looking onward at the man. "He seems tense" he thought to himself, quickly looking around to see if he was hiding anything he didnt see at first. "Well we are here to survey the land, and create a FOB for future operations in this theater, it may be mutually beneficial to work together?" he added to the other man. He held out his hand in a gesture of good will.

Back in the trucks his men were scrambling to get intel on this men, those who werent manning the guns of course. "Sir, the Servintans check out. BIS confirms their intent" piped up Sergeant Snow, the comms expert. The gunners waited in their trucks, fingers on the trigger, but now they were scanning the nearby forest and hilltops, there was a certain feeling these men were getting, and it didnt feel like a friendly one.

"Ah well ... what a coincidence I was just about to offer the same thing to you, as long as your men do not interfere with my operations then I'll be happy to assist you where ever I can." Khabarov shook the extended hand and was starting to see a partnership with these Birtonians as beneficial to the whole mission.

While the ten conscripts that had been given to him by the Servintan Expeditionary force were good men to have as guards, they were not exactly the brightest of the army, as they had proven earlier when one of them checked for dirt in his rifle by starring down the barrel and asking his comrade to cock it to make sure it worked correctly.Apart form the fact that many of the Birtonian rangers seemed a bit more well trained they also could provide a good basecamp from which the federation could send scouting teams or resource extraction units after securing rights with the locals of course.

Khabarov glanced back when he heard a commotion at the rear of his convoy and watched as Urla appeared followed by the gaggle of conscripts who were now caked in dust.Hurriedly they threw several small E-tools into the rear van and loaded up into the passenger vehicles that were still idling and ready to move on his command, Peprok just kept on smiling.Urla moved up the convoy and after checking with each driver he gave a slight nod to Khabarov and the Birtonian Ranger, signaling the problems had been disposed of and the expedition was ready to move.

"Well let us be off then, I'm heading towards this ruin in the midst of the map here if you and your men would care to join me?" Khabarov was certainly interested in moving into the center of the area where he could gain a foothold and spread the message of socialism far and wide.With the deal hammered out he hopped into the lead car and tapped his driver on the shoulder so that they would begin moving forward, with a sputter the car lurched forward and the Servintan convoy left in a cloud of dirt from the underlying sand.

As John moved back towards his lead vehicle he put his fingers, extended and joined straight up in the air, and put it over his shoulder forwards. The hand signal to "Follow Me" as the Infantrymen put it. The three Birtonian Vehicles roared back to life and followed the Servintan convoy towards the heart of the jungle. "Keep the combat locks engaged" John piped up over the radio while pushing his lock to the rear, "gunners keep your harness secured and your head on a swivel, Kilo one out."

Inside the rather large ESV the scientists were brimming with anticipation of the new finds that they would unearth. Within the vehicle there were 20 non-combatants in total. Zoologists, Anthropoligist, all the works of an expedition for science were found in the ESV which remained in the center of the Birtonian vehicles. The ESV was not built to fight off an enemy, rather to hold against overwhelming odds until reinforcements could arrive. She boasted a twin diesel engine drive train, one engine powering the front wheels and one powering the powerful rear treads. The hull of the vehicle was V shaped to help deflect IED blasts, along with meter thick armor, bulletproof glass and combat locks on all doors and hatches. The vehicle was designed to keep running, although slower, without the front wheels.

[New Chilokver]

The shadows were long on the ground, the land shrouded in a veil of darkness when they finally found a suitable area to drop off after bypassing the cordon aerially. The Adler swung its bulky body over the outcrop and there it hung like a gigantic fly, neither in the heavens nor the earth. The cargo door opened with a whine of hydraulics and the APC slowly, cautiously moved onto this new land. The helicopter seemed equally nervous and bounced back into the air almost as soon as it had been released of its burden.

Shu breathed a sigh of relief and excitement as he undid his straps and made his way across to where the rest of colleagues on this trip were. Some he had heard about by reputation, most were unknown to him. Out of the total of twelve, five were academics, three were Special Forces soldiers sent to guard them, one doctor, a local guide and translator as well as a field mechanic and engineer. He muttered a greeting to them as he gestured for them to exit the opened door of their vehicle- a heavily modified Schildkrote APC, one of the best out there and in his opinion, Wolf Armaments’s greatest design. Like all Chilokveri vehicles, it had been reequipped with Apple software and for the purposes of this expedition, air-conditioned accommodations. Bunk beds and sleeping bags took up most of the interior, with a medical bay and small laboratory occupying the rest. The grenade launchers and missile system had been removed and replaced with more adequate flamethrowers, though the machine gun had been kept. What had once been used to store ammunition was replaced by storage compartments filled with the multitude of supplies and equipment they needed.

“We’ll set up camp tonight- there’s only going to be a few hours of daylight left. Professor Jiang and assistants, I would appreciate if you could help Makte’bak with the bunks and cooking. You three”, he gestured at the soldiers, “put up the electric fence and alarms. We don’t know what the local wildlife or natives are like, and better safe than sorry. Me and Kevin will be working on the Schildkrote. Get to it guys.”

The night went on, and even the jungle was silent save for the chirping of crickets by the time the dishes were finally cleared and people began to drowsily enter the Schildkrote for the night. There was However, when he finally managed to break through the thorny brush and saw the clearing, his heart abruptly skipped a few beats at the frightful sight that appeared before his eyes.

“What a f*cking shithole……” he muttered, for no other words adequately described the ruined camp before them. The carnage was incredibly horrific, bodies strewn about as far as the eye could see, blood and gore slicking the rock floor. One could only imagine who, or what had done this. The corpses were cold and stiff, the scorch marks on the tents long cold, so it was unlikely that anybody would have survived for this long. Still, one never knew.
“Hello? Is there anyone there? ”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It had been a few hours since they had dropped off the expedition. The Adler was a large helicopter, far more suited for transport than exploration and as such, had been ordered back after it had dropped off a few crates of supplies further in Myrobia. The transmission of one radio message changed all that however.

“Hey, I've got a transmission incoming. Putting on speaker. “

“As you may or may not be aware, Congreveopia recently lost a spacecraft. It disintegrated in mid-air over the middle of Africa during re-entry. We are unsure of the state of the seven astronauts aboard, but it is likely that at least one survived and is now in Myrobia. Congreveopia would be extremely grateful for any help that could be rendered in returning these people safely home. However, we understand that we may be asking you to sacrifice your shot at being the first to explore this new land, and our gratitude might not be compensation enough for you. Thusly, let us state than any group that helps return an astronaut will be extremely generously rewarded. For more information, or to offer your help, contact Space Command at…”

“Any idea where the poor sods might be?”
“Wasn't that a flare we saw on our way here?”

As they flew back in the stifling heat, it wasn't long before they returned to the site, the canopy now dark once more.
.
“If anyone’s down there, they’ll hear us”, said Squadron Leader Parry as he grabbed a megaphone. “HELLO?”

[Serrian]

[PERSONAL LOG]
[ANNE CHARENS]
[SUBJECT: "AIRDROP"]
I can't speak for the rest of the team, but my morning started rather rudely.

The Serrian-made Nomad transport planes, blessedly spacious and stable as they were, simply could not combat the plague of turbulence, that devilish fact of flying, and now I suffered for it when a bump in the air caused me to hit my head against the metal wall of the plane which I had been leaning my head on while I slept. The flight from the Serro Islands, sitting in the Alansia continent, to the middle of Africa, thousands of kilometres away, was certainly daunting, and even the Nomads and their advanced engines still set the travel time to about 10 hours. I had intended to spend eight of those catching some beauty sleep, but now it seemed that was cut short.

On reflection, it wasn't, because the man standing in front of me at the time seemed to have a facial expression both concerned and relieved. Clearly I had been meant to wake up now anyways.

"Doctor Charens," the man, who I recognized as one of Lieutenant Velor's soldiers, said, "I hope you're alright?" A quick nod from me while clutching the back of my head. The soldier nodded, continuing, "The Lieutenant wanted me to wake you either way. Says we're entering the airdrop zone."

I'd completely forgotten. We were to be parachuting out of the plane because apparently the pilot refused to land down there for a hundred different reasons, half of which I couldn't blame him for; I also wouldn't dare land in a tiny jungle clearing while a mass of AA guns from various militant groups fired on my plane. Thus, we and the two vehicles we were using had been equipped with parachutes, and were simply told to jump when needed. But hell, why am I complaining? The poor driver of our MECC had to stay inside the thing and hope to dear god that the massive parachutes attached to it actually activated, as the engineers assured us it would.

If we were approaching the airdrop zone, however, and it was time to jump, it was time to jump. I rose from my seat, grabbed the backpack next to me, and headed towards the back of the plane, where everyone else was already waiting, goggles and dustmasks on, the soldiers already in their tactical all-environment helmets. Some of us looked nervous, others determined, and the soldiers seemed to have no facial expression; the man who had awoken me before had already mounted his sealed helmet and reflective faceplate.

Lieutenant Velor, seeing me, motioned for me to join him at the front of the group right next to him. Silently, we both gave each other the thumbs-up, waiting for the light on the ceiling to turn red once the cargo door opened.

Minutes passed. The door opened. Whistling air. Light red. Falling. Free.

The jerk of the parachute unfolding, and suddenly I was gliding.

[Myrobia]

Three Kilometers North of the Gates
Leni had ordered the truck to a stop. "Meliké! Get out here". The there was no access to the truck's front from inside, but Meliké stepped outside from the door. Getting out, he saw a perfect straight line of dirt and a few singed vines, cut through the jungle. Then he looked the other direction, and in front of it where a bunch of tribal warriors, roughly 10 or so of them. A few of them had fallen to the ground, in shock.

"Put down your knives." Meliké orded Leni and John.
"But we won't be able-" started John
"Put them DOWN" Meliké reiterated.
"Follow his orders, John" Leni calmly stated.

Making eye contact with the tallest in the group, Meliké motioned for him to come closer. Meliké was wearing a white button up shirt, but underneath was a plate protecting his vital organs, and he knew how to fight if there was a miscommunication. He hoped to himself this would work. His Myrobian was a bit rusty, as he had picked up a bit from the few texts and accounts that somehow made it out of this place. "Hello." he began "We're not here to hurt you. Do you want to know what the beast is?" he finished, indicating the truck, not more than half a meter from him, its door ready to close behind him if he needed to dash inside the thick metal vehicle.

North of the Gates

Bak'mende was at the crossroads of fear and confusion, the man before him was speaking his language but yet he looked nothing like the average Myrobian peoples.He was pale, and his style of dress was similar to the invaders that Bak'mende had fought back at the Gateway but thankfully he wasn't brandishing any of the magical weapons that had been found with those invaders.The tribesmen behind Bak'mende were probably worse off as some had feinted from the shock or were preparing to die in the growling maw of the demon beast that starred at them with unnatural and unblinking eyes glowing yellow like fire.But despite the monsters appearance the pale man and the people behind him didn't look evil or warlike at all, they seemed to be just as frightened and confused as the Myrobi warriors were as they offered for them to come near.There were two options now, either these men were another type of foreigner who meant no harm, or they were luring Bak'mende into a trap near the slowly quieting metal beast.

"You are not here to hurt Myrobi?" Bak'mende asked in a rhetorical question of what he had just heard.he cautiously waved his hand to his men, signaling that they were to put their weapons away as an act of good intentions by the tribesmen.

He slowly stepped forward ahead of his group who were busy lifting their fellow tribesmen off the ground and sending someone to find the man who had ran into the jungle out of pure fright from the beast's appearance.With a trembling hand he reached forward toward the metal creature and in a flash he poked the front end, retracting his hand to a response that never came from the beast.

"Who are you and what is this magic thing you ride?" The questions poured from his mouth like a waterfall and his mind was awash with thousands more as he studied the strangers.

[Capisaria]

3km North of Gates
The group had put down their weapons.

Meliké answered in their tongue "No, of course we not here to hurt Myrobia."

"Tell them we're only explorers. And that the beast is made of metal" Leni requested. She was easing up as she noticed the tribesmen putting down their weapons too. John was visibly relieved too, leaning back on the front of the "truck", still standing on the metal grated platform.

"We are simply curious about these lands." Meliké answered, moving slowly toward the leader of the group. "They have fascinated the nation of Capisaria for some time. Thats the name of these people, Capisarians." There was a sound of the door opening on the side. Philip stepped out, with a tablet in hand, fervently tapping out notes on the surroundings. Seemingly unaware of the people around him, he simply started humming and looking at the fauna.

"Oh, right, sorry Meliké. just let them know I am helping myself remember what is around us." Philip said, in french. Meliké translated it for the Myrobians. "So, please is there anything else you'd like to know about my friends here.?" he added, extending his open hand out, as a gesture towards friendship. "Take my hand, its a sign of respect and friendship where we come from."

[Servinta]

The road on which they traveled wasn't a "road" by any sense of the word, instead it was simply the stretch of hard and compacted dirt that the previous expeditions had traveled only a few hours earlier.The tracks of vehicles, animals, and humans marked the road as a path for all sorts of beings going into and out of the region through the Gateway ruins.As they neared the end of the mountain collapse area they could see the vast jungles and surrounding ranges of mountains that made Myrobia the untamed land that everyone was so eager to explore and conquer.It seemed to stretch for miles as the unbroken green canopy reached fro the horizon to the north and assaulted the towering mountain ranges in every direction.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Urla said as he observed the majesty of the jungle.

"Yes, quite, to bad it will all be gone soon enough." Peprok noted.

"Not likely, this land may be up for grabs but the jungle will be a tough nut to crack." Urla responded.

"When we find something like gold, diamonds, or whatever nonsense you'll be amazed how quickly nature will capitulate to mans indomitable will." Peproks words where something to ponder as they approached the jungle below.

They continued on down the slope of the mountain range until they hit the jungles edge, there they stopped and patrolled along the edge on foot until they found a less vegetated animal path to travel through.It was only a few feet wide and considering the branches and vines that hung about it from the surrounding trees it would be slow going, but the lead vehicle was a military bought reinforce scout car so the damage would be minimal as it lead the way and cleared the debris for the following Servintan and Birtonian convoys.They entered but at a slowed pace as to allow the Britonians to catch up, this was to the annoyance of Peprok who desperately wanted to get to the central ruins as fast as possible before anyone else could have the chance.

"Follow us comrades, we will be at the ruins before sundown if there are no delays." Urla announced over the shortwave radio as they drove in.

The ride to the central ruins was a bumpy and uncomfortable one to say the least, as there had been many interruptions and stops that had to be made on the way.Everything from a detour around a massive fallen tree to avoiding a deep chasm that engulfed part of the jungle path ahead of them caused the expeditions movement to be hindered and slowed even further.Thankfully they finally arrived at the ruins unharmed and somewhat unscathed by the rough jungle ride they had taken to get there.

"Thank god, we're here." Peprok was grateful to whatever deity had felt the need to end his suffering on this journey through the green hell that was the Myrobi jungles.

"Good now we can make camp and escape this terrible nightmare for a few hours." Khabarov remarked.

Withing thirty minutes the men had made a rudimentary perimeter around the entrance to the crumbling remains of the walled off ruins.Though some of the more academic among them wanted to start the exploration that night the majority were too tired and uncomfortable around the ruins to concern themselves with he opinion of a few eggheads.Soon most of the expedition was asleep and the men that remained awake were to guard the camp from whatever lurked in these jungles until dawn.

[Fascist Republic Of Bermuda]

Newport's Rangers travelled deeper into the jungle, following the bumpy and partially overgrown path northeast. Colonel Robert Newport looked at his copy of the Centurion's Map, scanning for approximately where the convoy's position was. He glanced up, and through the windshield, he saw a river up ahead. "Stop the Jeep, Smith!" Newport yelled over the engine. The jeep and convoy shuttered to a halt just 100 feet shy of the river. The Colonel stepped out of the M151 and breathed in the humid air. Susie, Sgt. Jason Smith, and Capt. David Longhorn all stepped out of the jeep out as well, onto the muddy path, the river flowing a hundred feet away.

"Colonel, with all due respect, why did we stop?" Smith asked as they walked towards the river, his B-12 slung over his shoulder. "Because, Smith, this river, if this map is to be believed, this river runs right next to a mine of some sort and goes on to a village." "Colonel!" A voice rang out. "I'm coming!" Newport yelled back, walking in the direction of the voice. He found a scientist and a soldier staring into a primitive quarry of some sort, with crude pickaxes and shovels lying about. But there was nobody there.

Strange. Robert Newport told the team's geologist to prepare to examine the minerals on the site, and turned around walking briskly back to the M35 truck. He ordered the Rangers to set up camp, and, as the tents were propped up, sent a message back to the monitoring station 100 miles to the west. Newport's Rangers had truly began their expedition.

[Military Democracy of Birtonia]

Myrobia
Center Ruins
2300 Hours

John lay quietly in his cot. Not quite asleep yet however, the uncertainty of this entire expedition made him concerned. Not for the safety of his Rangers or even the Servintans, but because he knew damn well that the scientists were going to die, at least most of them would. He knew he would try everything in his power to keep them alive, but thinking about that massive chasm that was hidden in the underbrush made him realize the jungle would kill them, and he couldn't kill the jungle yet.

Footsteps approached him suddenly. "Sir" said his Comms Sergeant.

"What is it?" replied John Intently.

"I uh, i dont know sir? It's a pretty garbled signal, but i think i heard Congrevopia in there somewhere. We recorded it for you wanna check it out." he said as he walked back to the center of the camp.

The ESV was set up in the center of the small clearing with all the extensions out. The OE-254 comms antenna was out, along with the mess tent and barracks sticking out from either side of the vehicle. Though everyone had bedded down for the night a few select personnel were still carrying on.

The mechanic was tinkering with the ESV's engine, a few scholars were still up chatting about what they would discover in the ruins a short distance from them. John looked over to the JLTV's and made sure his men were still pulling their weight. The Rangers had the six to twelve while the Servintans pulled security on the twelve to six. Three men were on guard for the Birtonian's tonight, one in each JLTV on the gun with the other on the ESV scanning with NVG's on the perimeter.

John went inside the comms tent to listen to the Congrevopian message.

"Try and see if you could clean that up for me" he said to the sergeant

Suddenly, a burst of automatic fire rang out from somewhere on the line.

[Myrobia]

Newport's Rangers travelled deeper into the jungle, following the bumpy and partially overgrown path northeast. Colonel Robert Newport looked at his copy of the Centurion's Map, scanning for approximately where the convoy's position was. He glanced up, and through the windshield, he saw a river up ahead. "Stop the Jeep, Smith!" Newport yelled over the engine. The jeep and convoy shuttered to a halt just 100 feet shy of the river. The Colonel stepped out of the M151 and breathed in the humid air. Susie, Sgt. Jason Smith, and Capt. David Longhorn all stepped out of the jeep out as well, onto the muddy path, the river flowing a hundred feet away.

"Colonel, with all due respect, why did we stop?" Smith asked as they walked towards the river, his B-12 slung over his shoulder. "Because, Smith, this river, if this map is to be believed, this river runs right next to a mine of some sort and goes on to a village." "Colonel!" A voice rang out. "I'm coming!" Newport yelled back, walking in the direction of the voice. He found a scientist and a soldier staring into a primitive quarry of some sort, with crude pickaxes and shovels lying about. But there was nobody there.

Strange. Robert Newport told the team's geologist to prepare to examine the minerals on the site, and turned around walking briskly back to the M35 truck. He ordered the Rangers to set up camp, and, as the tents were propped up, sent a message back to the monitoring station 100 miles to the west. Newport's Rangers had truly began their expedition.

Almost a billion years ago the ever changing geology of the earths crust was added to by the sudden spurt of magma and volcanic activity across the region that would someday be called Myrobia.This combination of temperature, pressure, space, chemical elements, and time, on a geologically titanic scale created the very start of gems and other minerals that after millions of years would grow into diamonds. The.The landmass that spawned these natural wonders would change just as the inhabitants would, but only the newcomer species of homo-sapiens would recognize the value of the gems that had taken so long to ripen into well formed and nearly flawless diamonds.

The diamonds that formed in such great a number originated in the northern half of Myrobia's volcanic fault zone, an area that over time had collapsed upon itself allowing a large river to eat its way through the region.The diamonds contained within the long hardened lava quickly found themselves tossed into the strong currents of the river and after thousands of years they ended up pooling in a sunken area just south of the river bend.Discovery by humans was slow but once it had been discovered it was quickly taken by the native population.

Fast forward into a time that saw the land of Myrobia rise to become a small but powerful African kingdom that rivaled the Egyptian, Dʿmt, Nok cultures of the continent. the source of their power came not only through their civilizations advance understanding of sciences but also through their ease of access to large deposits of diamonds and minerals, giving them material wealth beyond measure.But as their civilization waned, their control and capability of diamond excavation waned with it and soon all that once was, became lost to the Myrobi people.

But still there are some who occasionally go to the ancient mining pits dug so deep by their forefathers before them, and after much digging and labor they will find a shiny rock or gem to make their efforts worth it.But these places like many others are feared and revered one in the same as they remind the native peoples of the sudden and unexplained fall of their ancestors kingdom.To many Myrobi this has spawned the telling of ghost stories surrounding the ruins that hold such riches.Inside these pits and mines there could be a thousand treasures awaiting, or it could very well be just as empty and desolate as the history of the land that it inhabits.

Who would dare face these fables and test weather the tales of long dead kings walking their former dominions are true or not.

Map of pit mines interior: http://www.pandius.com/AncientHukaatanCopperMine.jpg (should you dare to enter, 1 is entrance)