After the End (IC/Open)

[Imperial Idaho]

AFTER THE END

Based off CK2 mod After the End

Current Date: July 4th, 2666

The Nations of Old died long ago, their seemingly perpetual reigns finally ended as man almost followed suit. The plague that destroyed the society of old long since turned irrelevant with immunity, civilization has rebuilt itself, though not like its predecessors had. The descendants of Ancient America and its fellow North American nations have formed tribes, kingdoms, fledgling republics, and mighty Empires. The continent resembled Medieval Europe more than it had just a few centuries ago, and in many ways, it was.

Mankind had been kicked centuries down the stairway of progress, as the era of peace had ended as war covered the continent with bodies and bloodshed. The new cultures and religions took over the old. The Mountaineers in the Rockies formed tribes and warbands, defending against Mormon invaders from Utah who spread their faith at sword point. Rust Belt Cultists in the Midwest and Atomicists in the Southwest tinker with Old World technology, believing they are holy items. Americanist Kings defend monuments to the founders, built by the United States of the Old World, and try to bring it back from death. The Holy Columbian Confederation in the deep south is too large and splintered to do much to its neighbors, weakened by squabbling dukes and counts from within. Welcome, to After the End.

OOC

MAP

[Ithalian Empire]

The Baylands
City of Baycity

Nine years had past since the end of the Great Starving, over a hundred years of famine, incompetent rulers, plagues and the internecine warfare of rival jarls, the invasions of rival kingdoms. It was a time the Baylanders had suffered through and had come out at the end on top. Nine years ago they were on the verge of collapse, today they were at the height of their power.

The enemies of the Baylands lay trampled and crushed. The harvest were plentiful and trade flowed once more through the Bay. Raiders brought back there spoils. All had changed in such a short time. To most of the Baylanders there was a simple reason for this, they shouted up to the gods for deliverance, and the gods gave it to them. The salvation of the Baylands took the form of Oberjarl Erick Jeneson.

This was a reason that Oberjarl Erick Jeneson was called the Great. It was he who took the throne and used its power to unify the Jarls and turn their aggression against those who wished the Baylands ill. He encouraged trade to flow through his lands. It was he who directed his raiders to take the wealth of his enemies, for both the glory of the Baylands and for the honor of the gods.

And here the Baylands stood today. Wealthier and more powerful than any of the other Nordic countries. It had been a long a hard nine years to be sure, but the gods showed their mercy and it was time to show the gods reverence. In the capital of Baycity there stands an old world monolith to the gods. Called Lambu it is the holiest of sites, where ancient Packard heroes once trod. Were the greatest of men once stood supreme, Vince Lombardi, the Coach of Coaches, for most of the great heros in Baylander myth.

By decree of the Oberjarl a great Superbowl was to be held and all the Jarls from all across the land were to attend, bringing with them there housecarls for a week of feast and sport to commemorate the recent prosperity in the land. There was a twofold benefit to the superbowl, it kept the Jarls distracted from trying to gain power of each other and gave the lowborn something to do other than their constant work. It was also a great time to convince the council, as all members would be in the city.

Oberjarl Erick
Council Meeting

The games would start the following day and most of the Jarls were within the city or a few hours away. Thus it was that Erick's council was all in one place at one time. Normally all the Jarls of the council were off governing there one fiefdoms or on missions given to them by there Oberjarl. Of the eight Jarls on the council all but the Spymaster were present.

"As Oberjarl of the Baylands I hereby call the council in order." It was a tradition that the Oberjarl started the meeting. "As you all know, I have decided to hold a Superbowl to celebrate nine years of prosperity. But that is not the reason I have called you here today. We have never been more powerful in our history, yet my bones yearn for conquest and new wealth. I wish to do battle and wage war. The raiders grow restless with idle common work, the thirst to go forth upon the lakes and raid the wealth lands of Chicago. I have called this meeting to tell you to ready you men for a great raid, for tomorrow we will take the wealth of Chicago."

It was Jarl Balgruuf, the oldest and most wise member of the council was the first to speak. "Oberjarl, I am afraid of the consequences of raiding Chicago. The Gear has access to witchery and the magic of the old days, if they wish to get vengeance upon us we may be hard pressed defeat them."

Erick thought about the concern Balgruuf had. The old grey beard had lived for as long as he did for a reason, but in the end what was a tiny Cultist kingdom compared to the might of the Baylands?

"Balgruuf, I take your wisdom to heart for you are the oldest and most wise of my advisers, but on this point I say what you think is wisdom to be timidness. This small cultist land is barely strong enough to defend itself, the barely have the will to feed themselves, for this the will fall, and we will be the ones to do it."

The other six councilers gave their agreement to the Oberjarl's decision to raid the Cultists to the south. After the Superbowl was finished in a week the raiders would embark and a few days after that the would find themselves raiding the ancient land of Chicago.

[Tysoania]

The Tower, Shekako Holy Lands

It was a miracle that the Tower was still standing, the High Foreman thought as he walked towards the Hall of Efficiency. Yesterday, one of the younger Foremen had dropped a bowl of Holy Oil, and the Gods had signaled their anger with a vicious thunderstorm. Even though the High Foreman had had the traitor burnt for his insolence, he had secretly worried that the Gods would not forgive the transgression. Apparently, the offering had worked; the old Tower was still standing. Long ago, when the first Foreman had consecrated the Shekako Holy Lands, the Tower had been chosen as the main center for the housing of Foremen and pilgrims from throughout the recently-created Empire. Consequently, the lower levels of the Tower were constantly filled with pilgrims coming and going; the upper levels, however, were quiet and dark, each room filled with Holy Relics from long-abandoned temples throughout the Holy Lands. The top, however, was reserved for the High Foreman and the Union Reps, with each hall having the name of a sacred word from one of the Holy Books. Here, the most holy of relics were stored in massive wooden rooms, and the Empire's supply of Holy Oil was kept, as meager as it was.

As the High Foreman approached the door to the Hall, the two doormen pulled open the solid wooden double doors, bowing as they did so. Their metal breastplate and helmets were shined to gleaming, but their pikes, not so much. That was expected; bloodstains were harder to remove than dirt. The cacophany of the Union Reps fell silent as the High Foreman strode into the room, taking his seat at the head of the table. The High Foreman looked at all the faces gathered around the table before removing his ceremonial headpiece, a metal helmet with an aluminum cog mounted on the top. Placing it under his chair, he looked around again before speaking.

"What is on the List of Duties today, Secretary?", he said. The Union Reps turned to a small man with a notebook near the far end of the table.

"Today's List of Duties says that there is another pilgrimage group due in today, who will require accommodations. As well, preparations must be completed today for the Day of St. Roosevelt."

The High Foreman sighed. None of these required his attention. What a surprise. "Very well. See to it that they are completed. Are there any more items that require my attention?"

"Yes, um, I do, High Foreman", Union Rep Frigidaire said. "We have an issue with the heretics to the north that has not been discussed."

This might turn out to be useful, the High Foreman thought. About time. "Go on".

"Perhaps it is time to bundle the northern heretics into the Empire? We have many soldiers among the pilgrims here for St. Roosevelt's Day; perhaps we could send an expedition to determine the possibility of seizing their lands? It is possible they could attack us, if we do not know their strength".

"Out of the question", the High Foreman replied. "They are here for the Holy Day; we shall not force them to insult the Gods by ignoring the Holy Day".

"Yes, High Foreman", Frigidaire said and sank back down in his chair.

"Well, if that is all, council dismissed", the High Foreman announced; the Union Reps instantly began chatting among themselves again. Perhaps later today, he would visit the Shrine of G.E. He had to ensure the Holy Lands' shrines and temples were kept at a high standard of cleanliness in preparation for swarms of pilgrims in the Lands for the Holy Day.

[Imperial Idaho]

Richmond, The Old Dominion

The fourth of July was probably the favorite day of the year for all Americanists, it celebrated the Independence of the United States of old from England, and to Americanists it was one hell of a party. It was 890 years since the Declaration of Independence was signed by the Founders, an article keep under heavy guard in Washington. Farmers, blacksmiths, builders, merchants, many took the day off to celebrate with their friends and family. In the Capital of Richmond the King, as he did every year, held a grand celebration to prove his patriotism. He invited his courtiers, subjects, and prominent officials to a feast, some of the musketmen paraded down the grand roads of Richmond. There was a fireworks show at the end of the day, featuring a spectacular combination of red, white, and blue bursts.

The outlook for the Old Dominion was good. It held good relations with the President in the Potomac to its north, the superpower Confederacy to the south was to involved in internal squabbles and politics to offer too serious a threat, while the west was a combination of small nation of various religions and the mountain people of the Appalachians. Internally harvests were well and fish was plentiful, and Potomac Trade made many rich. Coal mines were forming along the Appalachians to feed smitheries and anything else that used coal. The Dominion would be prepared to conquer in the name of the Founders.

[Ameriganastan]

The Holy Colombian Confederation
Capital of Charleston, South Carolina
Estate of the High Duke


"Gentlemen, make yourselves at home! Always a treat to have such prestigious guests in my lovely residence!"

Dukes and Duchesses milled about the opulent home of High Duke Thibodeaux, wining, dining and conniving. Such was the way the bloated Confederation. Though this gathering was smaller than normal. The reason would be made clear very soon, as Jeremiah cleared his throat.

"Of course, this isn't just a social gathering. No, my fellow countrymen, we have business to attend to."

He snapped his fingers, a giant flag unfurling on the wall behind him.

"Our Holy Confederation must expand. Very soon, our righteous land will rise to conquer the fools both north and south of us. The Confederation shall rule!"

The gathered party members cheered and applauded.

"But, none of you will be there to see it happen."

And the clapping stopped dead.

"Usurpers. Spies. Sympathizers. You have all been found unworthy to see our coming Holy Crusade."

The doors to the estate swung open, a legion of musket men standing in the way of those trying to find an escape.

"The only thing I hate more than traitors, are traitors stupid enough to get themselves caught doing it. Seriously Frederick, poisoning my wine? You think I'd fall for that?"

He rolled his eyes and sipped from his assuredly not poisoned cup.

"Pitiful. Men, exterminate these vermin. And try not to get too much blood on the rug. It's my favorite."

The estate erupted in a cacophony of screams and gunfire, Jeremiah idly sipping his wine.

"I really should find more subtle ways to exterminate traitors. It's a waste of Hors d'oeuvres to keep throwing these parties...I said to not get any blood on the rug! Idiots."

[Democratic East-Asia]

Mt. Rodman
Functioning Capital of the United States of America.
Central Control Room.


The United States of America. Six hundred years ago it stood tall among other nations of the world, and wielded power greater than any nation before it. Then the plague hit. In the matter of a year, despite the govt.'s best efforts at containing the outbreak, America ceased to exist as a functioning entity. That's what everyone thought. Little did they know that the nation would live on, if ever smaller, somewhere in the Rockies.

Deep in the mountains, Mt. Rodman stood as the USA's last stronghold in a strange and desolate world. Built in 2045, it was equipped with state of the art technology, and designed to survive the longest nuclear winter. Far from civilization, the inhabitants of Mt. Rodman were fully prepared to resettle the world above once the clouds cleared. This had proven instrumental in Congress's plan of survival, and Mt. Rodman was quickly filled with those deemed acceptable for the new United States that would rise out of the ashes.

The necessity of maintaining the base's integrity unfortunately caused the losses of some things Americans dearly loved. The free market, elections, and even the freedom of speech disappeared in early years as the base hurried to prepare itself. The situation improved after 2 decades though, but Mt. Rodman remains quite different from the both the old USA and its old self. Six hundred years later, Mt. Rodman is 2 times larger than it once was, and the "Americans" it holds don't match up with those before the plague.

Composed mostly of the descendants of scientists, professionals, soldiers, and officials, Mt. Rodman is overwhelmingly Asian and Caucasian in demographic terms. Politics is also something that went sideways. Both the Democratic and Republican Parties exist, although both are so similar its hard to tell the difference most of the time. The economy is what the pre-plague world would describe as socialist, and relies heavily on professional / computer input to function.

Now, as of the modern day, America would rise once more. Drones had been dispatched every few months to observe the other "nations" in the North American continent. It wasn't particularly impressive. Everyone had regressed to medieval levels of technology, and were worshipping things never thought of before. And democracy was dead, the sole founding principle of the Union. Even so, it was well understood why.

Life in Mt. Rodman was rather boring for those who resided there too long. Watching old TV shows and playing the compiled lists of Virtual Reality games only got you that far. In turn, most people signed up for the military, which was well known for leaving the complex and visiting the outside world. Three days ago, Colonel Jackson and 18 other members of the army had taken three Armored Humvees (futuristic looking due to 2040s tech) and a stack of equipment. They drove south, seeking to explore lands and to meet the people of the various Californian states.

The Humvee of 2045 was a completely different monster than the one used back in the Iraq and Gulf Wars. It's armor was significantly improved, on par with that of mid cold-war era tanks, while the vehicle itself ran on primarily hydrogen fuel cells or solar power. There weren't many left in good condition when Jackson left, so losing the vehicles would be great losses to the US. Those inside the vehicles were no less intimidating. Bearing the US military's signature XR-2** rifles and wearing tactical suits of bullet proof body armor, the idea of big stick diplomacy hadn't exactly died down. As of now, they were somewhere in Southern California, looking for contact.

**COD gun, mainly because I needed something from 2020-2048 tech wise.

[Chewion]

Presidential Castle,Houston, New Republic of Texas

President Kiser was sitting in his bedroom when two men in suits busted in and said "Sir we just received word that the Alamo regiment is ready to march South to gain us some more land. They are requesting more specific orders."
Kiser leaned back in his chair and said "Tell them to go to Loredo and then East to Corpus Christie. Tell them to recruit anyone they can along the way. I also want a regiment dispatched to El Paso. We have reports of some military gear still usable there."
The men both said "Yes sir." Then they walked out.
Kiser then walked over to his desk and started writing a letter.

To: Confederate Leader
From: President Brandon Kiser

I am writing you today to inquire if you would like to form an alliance with the New Republic of Texas. Together we would be unstoppable.

Sincerely,
President Brandon Kiser

Kiser then got up and went downstairs. He found a messenger and gave him orders to deliver the letter ASAP.

[Imperial Idaho]

Middle of Nowhere, SoCal

Driving south, the American Humvees would see mostly sand and mountaintops for a long while, though eventually they came across something out of the ordinary. Over the horizon they saw a decently sized structure, and if they were to approach they would see a large flag waving over the top of it.

[Democratic East-Asia]

Southern California

It had been 3 days of travelling since Jackson and his expeditionary force had departed from Mt. Rodman. Travel had been slow due to the uneven terrain, and also the fact one of the Humvees somehow popped a tire. It had taken awhile to repair, but now everything was underway once more.

"Colonel! Unknown structure, 900 m!" A private shouted from the front vehicle.

"Observations private?"

"It appears inhabited. Also, there's a strange flag flying from it."

"Good. Alright everyone, prepare for contact. Ready your weapons in case this gets violent."

The humvees soon quickly approached the structure. The United States of America was back.

[Imperial Idaho]

Middle of Nowhere, Socal

As the soldiers approached the structure they could make it out clearer. It was a walled fort of sorts. Made of wood and scrap metal most likely it stood at the side of a paved road, the flag above it featured a seal of a ship in port on a blue background. As they got closer they could see a large group of people, around 6, 8 at most. Once within earshot they ran into the safety of the fort, unaware and fearful of what the sound of the Humvees truly was.

[Democratic East-Asia]

Middle of Nowhere, Socal

As the soldiers approached the structure they could make it out clearer. It was a walled fort of sorts. Made of wood and scrap metal most likely it stood at the side of a paved road, the flag above it featured a seal of a ship in port on a blue background. As they got closer they could see a large group of people, around 6, 8 at most. Once within earshot they ran into the safety of the fort, unaware and fearful of what the sound of the Humvees truly was.

SoCal

"Colonel, we have sightings of unknown individuals. They seem to have fled upon hearing us."
The same private reported.

"Alright then, everyone out. We'll greet them the old fashioned way.

Assembling his 17 soldiers, Colonel Jackson ordered everyone out of their humvees. Wearing their advanced suits of body armor and carrying weapons unknown to those outside of the bunker, Jackson's group is without a doubt strange to anyone looking on to them.

"Greetings! I'm Colonel Jackson of the United States of America. We come in peace, and seek no fight." Jackson said out loud. A gas masked soldier stood by his side carrying a US flag.

[Imperial Idaho]

Middle of Nowhere, SoCal

No sound returned from the fort for a few seconds, then a man's voice could be heard by the soldiers, nervously yelling "We don't want any trouble! I'm Lieutenant Frank Davis of the army of SoCal! Why are you here!?"

[Democratic East-Asia]

Southern California

"Well, we aren't here to give you any! Like I said, I'm Colonel Jackson, and I come in peace. My and my fellow soldiers are currently on a scouting mission from our govt, and we're looking for other nations and people around here."

Jackson paused. Can't risk scaring them too much.

"You've heard of the United States of America right? There has to be some sort of talk about the "Ancient Americans" as I've been hearing. Well, you happen to be talking with some right now."

Jackson gestured to the gas masked soldier, who in turn flew a white flag while Jackson dropped his weapons. The other soldiers put theirs away as well as a sign of good will.

"I'm unarmed, and my men are as well."

[Imperial Idaho]

Middle of Nowhere, SoCal

Frank briefly poked his head offer the wall and saw the men disarming themselves. Some talking could be heard, though only a few words here and there, and the gate opened and Frank and 9 other men walked out. A few were armed, though their weapons not pointed at the soldiers. "You want to make contact with our Nation?"

[Chewion]

Bunker X, Cypress, Texas

Dr. Fieldman smiled. His project was ready. For the past 3 years he had been working on something the President called the telegraph. He nervously typed a message saying "Test 01."

Presidential Castle

Kiser sat at his desk when the telegraph machine started clicking. He looked at what the ink sheet had written on it smiled as a deciphered the message. He quickly replied "Test 01 success."
Then he sent "Have the work began. Get the lines up ASAP."
Kiser smiled. He know could communicate much faster and he knew that he would now have an upper hand just like Honest Abe had.

[Biscaria]

The Great Castle, Orlando, Tribe of the Mouse

High Chief Elias Waltney
For High Chief Elias, today was a happy day. Although it had been overcast for the past week, the spirits of his countrymen, and loyal followers of the Mouse as he would add, could never be in better spirits. The dreaded pirates of Seminole, who had mocked The Mouse and raided it's shores for decades, had finally been brought to justice. Under Elias's orders, their cove of Tampa was invaded by The Mouse's forces, and their leaders were caught in an inebriated state after a successful raid on the burghers of Tallahassee. They were quickly subdued and brought to the Palace Complex in Orlando, where the pirates were put on trial in front of the holy figures of the Founding Fathers with the Chief Diviner of the Mouse serving as the most exalted judge. With Disney as his witness, the Chief Diviner quickly found the pirate leaders guilty of crimes against the Mouse. Their most fitting punishment would be to be indefinitely bound to posts in the gloomy and ancient hall of the Caribbean Pirates, where they would be appropriately mocked and observed for a
small price by the Disneyan faithful. Elias had toured the new pirate dungeon himself earlier in the day, and had found it most pleasing.

Now, Elias was holding a "ball" in the tradition of the Prophet Disney's writings to celebrate the victory. The wives of the chiefs of Ocala, Canaveral, and Daytona Beach, and of course his own wife Willow, were all decked out in their finest dyed cotton dresses, and the chiefs themselves were dressed in their finest suits. In addition, his warriors were permitted to bring local maidens to the function, creating a rousing scene in the Great Hall of his Great Palace. It was now the time of the "Dance of Aurora," and he and his wife Willow were presiding over the room in dignified fashion. Elias couldn't have been prouder to honor the Mouse's will, and he knew all others in the room must have been too.

Willow Waltney
For Willow Waltney, today's events couldn't have looked more stupid. Here she was sitting next to her buffoon of a husband, watching warriors and chiefs atrociously try to replicate long-forgotten dance moves in patched together clothes. There was no magic in it. Of course, she pretended to be a faithful Disneyan for the subjects, but Willow knew in her heart that the whole thing was a farce. Raised in the Evangelical religion by tutors from Jacksonville, "The Mouse" was an idol to her. She never would have ventured into the Tribe if she hadn't been the last living Waltney besides Elias. But she was, so against her will she was made to marry her distant cousin in an archaic tradition mixed with bizarre rituals. She was no "Snow White" or "Cinderella," as the prime Disneyan holy book told of, waiting to be carried off by a prince. She had mind of her own, and Elias was no prince. He was fat, jolly, and devoutly religious, more of a "Friar Tuck" than a "Prince Charming." Willow held her breath and produced an heir with him, a now 4 year old daughter named Ariel, who was the only other person in the world she somewhat cared about. But even she had some of him in him. That is why, starting 4 years ago, she set out to take realm for herself.

Using personal connections and large stash of hidden funds, Willow had hired a 3000 man mercenary band from Bermuda. They were presently surrounding the castle, while those inside were oblivious to their presence. On her orders, with a loyal retainer at her side, they could be ordered to storm the castle at any moment and take the dancing warriors by surprise. As for her dear husband, she had another thing planned for him...

As she witnessed the ballroom change from the "Dance of Aurora" to the "Dance of Snow White," Aurora listened for the right time to strike, as she knew this particular dance song well and had a certain note memorized. While waiting for this note, she looked about the room, and knew that all others in the room would ultimately bend to her rule of pay the price.

[Democratic East-Asia]

Middle of Nowhere, SoCal

Frank briefly poked his head offer the wall and saw the men disarming themselves. Some talking could be heard, though only a few words here and there, and the gate opened and Frank and 9 other men walked out. A few were armed, though their weapons not pointed at the soldiers. "You want to make contact with our Nation?"

SoCal

"Yes, we do indeed wish to." Jackson replied straight forwardly. There was no reason to hide anything, after all, if everything did go downhill, Jackson doubted his group would take any casualties in a straight up fight.

The gas masked soldier behind him moved to grab a crate. The contents still unknown to the Southern Californians.

The US govt. had made it a priority that contact be established with nearby nations. To ensure some sort of friendship, a gift of a sort would be given. Whether this be improved technology, firearms, or valuables was up to debate. The point was, there was something in the crate.

[Imperial Idaho]

Fort, SoCal

A few of the men eyed the crate. Frank responded saying "Well the capital is in Los Angeles. We don't do much out here, just monitor whatever trade goes through this desert. I can take you there if you like."

[Zostra]

Ville de Quebec, Order of Champlain

A high summer sun flooded the Hall of Frontenac with light, giving the twelve Sovereign Council members an almost holy glow. Seated in their center was Governor Marcel Berthier, head of the council, who called out over the din of dozens of assembled nobles of the Parlement, "Order in the Hall! By the authority vested in me, I hereby call the 132nd Parlement of Champlain to order!" A gavel banged and all were hushed. High Bishop Davout rose from next to Berthier and spoke in a calming voice, "let us give thanks to God and Saint Champlain, they who protect us and give us sustenance. It is from their benevolence we prosper." All assembled bowed their heads and gave the sign of the cross, quietly murmuring prayers. Then it was the turn of Intendant Masséna, "now, let justice be done. Those who wish to speak, do so now." Once again came the roar of voices shouting over each other.
"Lord Essling has once again infringed on my property!"
"My tenants have seen raiders coming from the Lakes!"
"If we want any hopes for improved weapons we need more steel"
"What of the devil-worshippers to our south?"

And so came the litany of complaints, requests, suggestions, and "advice." For the most part the council nodded politely and promised to look into this or that. Most of them were long experienced with enduring such affairs. By time debate had subsided, it was getting dark with lamps having to be lit to illuminate the chamber. The Council withdrew for some time to discuss what they had heard and decide on what would be done during the next year. They reemerged and called for order once again. Governor Berthier stood and spoke sternly, "actions have been decided on. I remind all of you that the matters of Parlement should concern all of Champlain's people, your personal squabbles are for the courts and militia if you cannot manage to resolve them." He glared at several members of the crowd who fidgeted nervously before continuing, "upon petition of the assembled 132nd Parlement of Champlain, Council shall undertake the following.
1. Reinforcement of Montreal garrison against banditry.
2. Dispatch of expedition to investigate resources of Toronto ruins with authority to proceed farther if circumstances permit.
3. Official embassy to seek true nature of so called 'New England Commonwealth.'
4. Increase in production of flintlock firearms to equip greater number of troops.
The Council thanks those assembled for their attendance. May god watch over you. The Parlement is now dismissed."

Montreal

Cheers rang out as the soldiers disembarked from their cogs and knarrs and began to march towards the fortified Mount Royal. An outer wooden palisade surrounded the town proper, but the mount itself had walls of stone, brick, and metal constructed from the ruins of the old city. These soldiers would provide additional protection against any attempt by the Great Lake Norse factions to raid the city. Several ships broke off from the main group and continued down the river on their way towards Toronto after receiving supplies. Several small island forts guarding the approaches to the city fired a cannon shot in salute as they passed. Toronto had of course been looted in the past, but now it was time for an organized, systematic search for technology and rare resources.

Fort Lesage, Isle La Motte

Three cogs cast off from the base of the fort and began their journey southwards towards the land of the New England Commonwealth. Although there had been some limited trade along the lakes, never had an official delegation met. Rumors abounded about the wild paganism of the southerners, disquieting much of Champlain's settlements in the area. Captain of the Militia for the South, Jean Sarrail, had been given powers of representation in order to meet with the "government" of New England such as it was. Sarrail had some three decades of combat experience under him, his ships were well equipped with cannon, and he was accompanied by battle-hardened troops. Despite this, he couldn't help but feel a pang of fear as Fort Lesage faded from sight and they became truly alone.

[New Minahasa]

Boston, Massachusetts.

Supreme Orient Caine Woods watched as the Great Temple of Cthulhu is being built. The temple is shaped in the form of Cthulhu himself, with an octopus-like head, a humanoid body, and a pair of wings. On top of the temple's entrance, the chant "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn" is engraved. Around the temple, slaves worked with great haste as the wardens whipped their backs. The situation got even worse when the Supreme Orient arrived. Slaves were told to double their efforts, lest they and their families would be offered as sacrifices to the Old Ones. Even the sick and the dying were forced to arise and do their work. In the eyes of Caine, the lives of the slaves didn't really matter. Each day, new groups of slaves would enter Boston, and truth be told, the city was already full of them. The rest that weren't needed were either sold or sacrificed to the Old Ones.

Caine was happy of his achievement. None of his predecessors were able to build such a wondrous tribute to their gods. True, there are other temples spread across the domain, but none such as this. There were rumours that he would conduct a mass sacrifice once the temple is completed, and some people were against it, but they knew better than to step in his way. Caine was notable as cruel and sinister, much like his predecessors, but not a great fighter. He made up to it by employing the best warriors he could find in his nation into his elite company of bodyguards, known as the Great Dreamers, or simply Dreamers. His bodyguards were a group of warrior-monks, for they would accompany the Supreme Orient as he leads a mass prayer, and would sometimes act on his behalf. Their looks were also menacing with their beak-like masks, similar to the ancient plague doctors, and robes worn over heavy metal armour.

Caine took a brief tour around the near-built temple before returning to his palace. He walked up to the balcony and looked over the city, pondering of his future plans. As he pondered, he couldn't help but feel his pride taking over. He felt the need to expand and grow his reign over the lands. The usual raidings and pit-fights could not contain his urge anymore. After all, where would he keep all of these slaves? His eyes laid north, over the lands of the Order of Champlain. But instead of using brute-force, he decided to do what he called "diplomatic methods", which are actually just extortion and threats; and after receiving word of three unknown ships sailing from the north towards New England, Caine immediately assumed that they were sent by the Order of Champlain, although their motives were still unknown to him. He sent a unit of scouts to keep an eye on the foreign ships and to inform him further of their status.

[Ithalian Empire]

[align=center]The Field of Lambu
Baycity[align]

The largest and most ancient structure in Baycity, Lambeau field as it was once called is a shell of its former self. Much of the once gargantuan had been cannibalized for metal for weapons and tools and the concrete was used in the construction of the part of the city walls. What remained had been replaced by wood and stone. The only portion of the old stadium that was left untouched was the statue of Vince Lombardi and the field proper.

Here was where the Jarls personal champions played the traditional sports of the Baylands. There were contests of strength, the throwing competition in which contestants threw pigs bladders filled with sand, there were races of foot and with horse. Sparring matches were also among the list of spectacles of martial skill. Alcohol form the Little Peninsula flowed into the cups of all that attended and meat was served to all who would attend.

It was at these super bowls that Jarls met and plotted with each other, military expeditions were planned and raids were contemplated. And this one was no less different. News of the Oberjarls wish to go on a raid quickly spread amongst the Jarls and the chattered amongst them selves in excitement. Each thought of how the raid would increase eachs own prestige in the eyes of the Oberjarl. Amongst the Jarls 17 longboats had been pledged to the raid party and nearly a thousand troops.

The Oberjarls himself was preparing his personal company of Housecarls, a hundred men armed with muskets and longswords prepared to die for whoever they were pledged to. Many of them were the second sons of other Jarls, there guns handed down over the centuries as family heirlooms. The Oberjarl himself carried a rifled musket and a great swords called Skull Bitter. It had been many years since a raid was lead by the Oberjarls himself.

As the final spectacle upon the grid the Oberjarl prepared his troops and when the horn sounded signaling the end of the superbowl the Housecarls marched out upon the field with the Erick at their head. The people were astonished, the only time the Housecarls came upon the field was when the Oderjarl was making a declaration of war.

"People of the Baylands, citizens of Baycity, hear me. As the Oberjarl of all the Baylands I have declared a great raid upon the weakling of Chicago. At dawn tomorrow a great host shall sail down the Great Lake and by the end of the week we will raid spinless cultist. We will desecrate their temples and gather for ourselves there magic metals and objects. This we will do in the name of the gods and with the blessings of the great Lombardi!"

As the Oberjarl finished the people cheered and stamped their feet. In a week's time the people who lived in Chicago will feel the sting of a Baylander raid.

[Chewion]

Ft. Stockton, Old Texas

The regiment had recently found what appeared to be an old military base. As they scavenged around one man, a private, of be something that looked like a shiny hand held stone but with glass on the front. He picked it up and took it to the field scientists.
Before continuing on their way to El Paso the regiment left 50 men behind and planted the Texas flag.
Corpus Christie, New Republic of Texas

The San Antonio based Alamo Regiment had finally reached their final destination. After dealing with a few pesky raiders they claimed the ancient city for Texas.

[Biscaria]

The Great Castle, Orlando, Tribe of the Mouse

Willow Waltney
About 30 seconds before the ending note of the Dance of Snow White, Willow sent her retainer to alert the mercenaries outside. It was time to act.

Of course, the whole plan would not incriminate her in the slightest. The mercenaries would march in, and hold the room hostage while seizing the weapons of the warriors. Willow would plan to be shocked, and would start to shout as the mercenaries took Elias from his throne per her earlier orders. Once the ballroom was nearly secured by the mercenaries, she would then "escape" and summon her personal retinue, who were waiting in the wings. She would then direct them to "go against" the mercenaries and "save everyone" in the ballroom. A mad fight would ensue, with her retinues being told to "take them alive." The warriors in the room would be encouraged by her to take their seized weapons and do the same, gaining their loyalty, and she would command the action until the mercenaries were "captured" by the Disneyan warriors.

"Unfortunately," High Chief Elias would be "killed" in the fighting after "bravely resisting." Then, just as she had done in the coordinated battle, she would take control of the situation. As the current heir Ariel was too young to take power, Willow would "be forced to take upon the burden" of ruling the realm. She would then send the mercenaries to be "put on trial" and have the chiefs getting down on their knees in honor to her. Then she could put her true plans for the realm in motion.

The plan went perfectly. At the end of the song, Bermudan mercenaries stormed in and started the bowing warriors. The chiefs' wives nearly fainted, and Willow herself played the part of fearful wife when her husband was taken. She then followed through with her plan, until she at last had the realm in the palm of her hands.

Elias Waltney
Elias Waltney had no idea what had just happened. One minute, he was enjoying a fabulous ball. The next minute, he was being kidnapped by strange soldiers in front of his entire court.

He was now in some sort of sack, which he had been in for quite some time, in some sort of dark place. He was being lowered down, into a hole. Elias briefly imagined that he was taken to the "Wonderland" of stories old, but found that premise unlikely as he had seen no white rabbit nor any mad hatters.

All of a sudden, the soldiers lifted the sack off of him with a rope. He found himself in an oubliette, with the trapdoor on top just slammed shut. Panic overtook him, and Elias started shouting. "Is there anyone out there?" he yelled. There was no response.

No response but a breeze in the air.

[Ameriganastan]

Confederation-Florida borderlands

A small region of neutral territory and a hastily written treaty was all that kept the Confederation and the Mouse worshipers a safe distance from one another. Well, a holy expansion tended to ignore treaties and such. Hence the moderate sized detachment skirting the outskirts of the tribal lands.

"I spy a group of the vermin praising savages now. We should wipe them all out right now."

A senior officer shook his head.

"In due time, youngster. They'll either come under our heel or be vanquished. Simple as that. For now, we're just here to send a message. That the neutral zone is neutral no more. Let them know, men."

A group of soldiers planted a pole in the ground, working surprisingly fast to hoist an enormous Confederation flag to billow in the wind.

"They can't miss this. Let's see how long it takes for them to send an envoy."

While they waited, one soldier nervously glanced around.

"I hope it's soon. I can feel him watching us..."

The guy beside him rolled his eyes.

"For the last time, James. They worship a mouse. Not this...what do you call him again?"

"The old literature calls him The Tebow. A mighty guardian who slew all who opposed him back in the ancient times. And then he would kneel on their bodies to rub it in. I'm telling you, he's watching us."

[Democratic East-Asia]

Fort, SoCal

A few of the men eyed the crate. Frank responded saying "Well the capital is in Los Angeles. We don't do much out here, just monitor whatever trade goes through this desert. I can take you there if you like."

SoCal

"Of course." Jackson replied. "I'll be more than glad to see what Los Angeles is like. Our last records date 600 years ago."

Pointing to his Humvees, he explains. "These vehicles I have here are quite fast. You could come along and lead the way if you like."

Somewhere in New England

It had been the goal of the United States to explore what had remained, and New England was no different. For around 2 weeks now, Sarah Palmer and her 17 other marines had been scouting the East Coast, and taking note of whatever they found. Nothing of interest in particular. For some reason, they had yet to meet a large group of people. Must be bad luck, She thought. The weather here was rather cold for her likes, but nevertheless the mission had to carry on.

"Spotted anything Sgt?" She asked to Sgt. Williams through intercoms, who was a few hundred meters up north.

"Nope. Although this area is definitely inhabited." Williams replied.

"Keep searching, we'll find someone." Palmer stated. Two weeks, and nobody. Actually, we found people, but command told us to go the East Coast. Goddamn govt. A similar group had departed to Texas 1 week ago. Led by Commander Obama (descendant of Barack), they had also yet to make contact. Chances were though that Obama would've found someone by now.

Mt. Rodman

"And our election results are in. President Howard of the Democratic Party has won by a slim margin, carrying 50.4% of the vote to Underwood's 49.6%. It was quite close, and just under 40 votes won the day." An announcement declared.

Politics post-disaster was something really only kept for cultural reasons. Both parties were quite similar in their stances on issues, and ultimately, it was the central committee of scientists and professionals that made the final decisions. Even so, president Howard had great influence, and also happened to be the central committee's head.

"So, plans for next year?" Howard asked the assembled group of scientists.

"We need to establish contact with the states that now make up America, possibly make some friends." One replied.

"We also need to claim resource points. What we have won't last forever." Another states.

"I recommend making our stake, possibly with a show of force." A military leader states. "We'll be able to show them some of our firepower, which will hopefully put us on a stronger foothold."

"Hmm." The president thinks. "We've already done most of these. Anyways, keep planning, I've been told Obama might've made contact in Texas."

The committee quickly broke up in the announcement of such an event. Contact had been considered of utmost importance.