With monarchy behind us! [at-closed]

by **Kazerne** » Wed Aug 25, 2010 5:47 pm

21st Infantry Regiment
Beachhead landing grounds

Colonel Hans Ribost looked at the map before him and turned to look out over the lines of the regiment. Light infantrymen weren't equipped with very heavy weapons--indeed, the heaviest they had was the 120mm mortars attached to the regiment as a reinforced weapons company, with all the heavy armament expected of such a formation. No, the most each company got was an 81mm mortar section for close-fire support, as well as whatever anti-tank teams the battalion weapons company could give out.

He knew that the militia would attempt to make a charge against the Kazernian lines, but the lethality of modern firepower would make that suicide. Since the light infantry of Kazerne didn't have many organic heavy weapons, only those who had gained the ranking of Sharpshooter or above were allowed into the regiment. And such accuracy allowed for greater kill ratios.

Ribost didn't have to give the order to open fire; unlike some of his counterparts in Imertia's Foreign Task Force, he kept the operating tradition of the Kazernian BSK alive, which dictated that junior officers, not commanders away from the action, would be able to make the best judgement calls. As fire began to ripple out from the Kazernian lines into the militia, Ribost began to give orders to his HQ section. If there was any naval gunfire or air support available, he wanted it for this defense.

by **Lzar Naten** » Wed Aug 25, 2010 7:38 pm

Lz'ar Non-Human Regulars
Landing Craft, offshore

The bright conflicting colors of the Lz'ars in their craft looked almost like a rainbow in the churning sea. These large Lizards were ferocious creatures, fiercely independent, and untrustworthy of Mankind, and whom enjoyed a prosperous life back home in their homeland. So, what caused this group of Lz'ars to join the Imerian Royal Guard, where they were looked down upon for their non-Human state, given outdated equipment, not given gear like that of the Humans, are given miserable pay, and, to the chagrin of all the members of this Lizard unit, are often sent into the worst fighting, where they're expected to die so the Human troops would live.

However, while that would be a nightmare for other non-Humans, it would be not so for the Lz'ars, who were hardier and could take a considerable number of hits from bullets and shrapnel that would bring a Human or other non-Human down. This ensured that the Lz'ars had a feeling of secret superiority, that they would take a bullet to the chest that would kill or severely wound a Human. Thus, the Human Wave (or in this case, non-Human Wave) tactics the Imerians forced the non-Human troops to use would come to the Lz'ars' advantage as their large stature, bulky builds, and ability to deflect bullets would ensure that they would distract the enemy long enough for the Human forces to arrive on the beach.

Still, they weren't too choked up about this, especially when armed with obsolete weapons, but were confident they would stand their ground and take as many of the Human inferiors with them as possible!

"WHY did I join this rotten Human force?! I could be home right now with my mate and children!" a bright purple male complained in Rep'til, the native tongue of the Lz'ars.

"Heh, typical male: Boasting about his manliness and toughness and yet when he's faced with his first test in combat, he chickens out like a little hatchling!" hissed a feminine voice coming out of a tall and muscular, yet slightly feminine-looking Lz'ar with dark brown skin.

Despite the fact that most of the units in this multinational, multiethnic, and multispecies invasion force were all-male, the Lz'ar military had allowed both males and females, and the Lz'ar non-Human Regular unit was no different, there were several females in the boat, some of them were lean and rather feminine in appearance, while others were bigger, tougher, more muscular tomboy-types who one unfamiliar with the Lz'ars could barely tell were females until the individual spoke in her high feminine voice.

The Purple Male, annoyed by the female's remark, stormed over to her and pointed his clawed finger at her remarking "Listen-"

However, he was interrupted by the female, who grabbed the center of his shirt, and pulled him close to her face, hissing "YOU listen, I have served in the Ar'med Fr'ces for 6 years and I have seen battle after battle, and I DO NOT tolerate skinny newbie cry-hatchlings who get scared about doing battle before they are even IN battle!"

"ENOUGH!" a deep male voice cried out, the others parted ways, revealing a tall brawny Olive colored male, who walked over to the female and asked her "What's wrong?"

She pointed to the whimpering Male, whom the second asked "What's your name?"

"Ma've Kri'sta"

Nodding, the brawny male asked "This your first time, Ma've?"

The Purple male nodded

"Thought so, Re'yae and I have been together for six years, never separated!" the male, P'tar Vis'tz, Lz'ar leader of the unit, commented, holding hands with the female, Re'yae Ik'thal, his second-in-command and mate. The sight of the two caused Ma've to cry, causing another Lz'ar to grumble "Cry-hatchling!"

Patting his shoulder, P'tar commented "There, there, it's okay! You'll go home soon to see your mate and children again!"

"Yeah, in a casket!" mused Re'yae, causing Ma've to panic, and then say repeatedly "I don't wanna die! I don't wanna die!"

"Oh, you're not gonna die! Re'yae just likes to tease the rookies so as to toughen them up for battle. You'll survive, if you keep your courage, determination, and importantly your wits high."

He then paused, staring at the distant shore, hearing the faint rumblings of gunfire and explosions, for a long time as their craft neared the shore, before finally saying "May Rep'tea be with us..."

by **Ramsetia** » Thu Aug 26, 2010 1:16 am

Ramset Command Squadron, enemy lines
"Fix Bayonets!" came the hostile cry, Kubrick glancing up the hill to see a second wave of militiamen rapidly affixing the long spikes to the tips of their mismatched rifles.
"Load rifles, form line!!" Kubrick yelled, sword held out with the flats of the blade towards his troops and the opposition both. The ramset forces ejected empty magazines from their cut-down, paratrooper-like rifles as the militiamen rose up, stumbling to expose their inexperience and the desperation clouding their minds. the 40-round magazines locking into the shallow magwells, charging handles pulled back and weapons raised up with the barrels, still sporting scratches and chips in their finish from the brutal shaving down of many inches from the muzzle, angled towards the approaching force.

They must have seemed as golems, overconfident machines as their heavily-armoured boots shifted forth, a wedged line between the charging militiamen and the wolohanistani's right flank, with Kubrick and his command squad in the very middle. His straightblade rose up, glistening a red and sticky wetness along the blade "Take aim!" he called, as weapons were shouldered, those with the retractable stocks taking advantage of the thin wooden cheekrest, and those without locking and bracing their weapons forth with their armoured limbs. Every second taken was metres removed from the distance between the two forces, Kubrick glancing aside to see how the wolohanistani group would handle their own charging opponents as he ducked to his knees, sword flashing down in an unspoken signal.

The snap of hammers hitting home, the compacted hiss of igniting smokeless powder providing an acrid scent to cover the smell of death beginning to rise around the Ramset, their white uniforms showing off the blood of those killed in close combat with an odd sense of pride. The sudden rip and roar of shots, automatic fire laid into the charging opponent, the battle rifle rounds let loose, the noise of so many rapid-fire shots melting and sinking together into a single long buzz as the regiment's weapons were once again unloaded, thousands of spent casings being flung outwards from the Ramset auxillary's weapons.

by **Lemonius** » Thu Aug 26, 2010 4:58 am

Lemonian Non-Human Regulars,
Target Beach, In-combat

The Lemonians, and their Imerian counterpart, had been waiting for the better part of an hour.
The occasional potshot from a soldier, sent a machine gunner further up the beach flapping.

"This is squadron leader, 1st and 3rd squadrons are refuelled are rearmed, we're going to hit the guns up the beach. 2nd squadron is going to hit the flak guns on the hill." The buzz of the radio brought new hope to the stranded unit.

Sure enough, the black Raven bombers soared over them, at least 10 or so. That, was squadron 1, their payload hit home as the wooden barricades splintered in the fiery explosions the shockwave would decimate any enemies in the bunkers nearby.

The unit waited, they didn't want to get killed by the 3rd squadron as they made their run.

"Uh... S3 check your coordinates, your heading off course" The Squadron leader said, the radio still muffling his voice with static.

"What do they mean 'off-course'?" A soldier quizzed

"I'm not sure..." U7746 replied

They knew a few minutes later... The Ravens were heading toward their position, yet, they were too high. And the bomb-bay doors seemed to be open, way too early.

"Run"

The unit did so, one of the troopers having to almost drag the noble as they hopped over corpses, splintered wood, and wrecked fortifications.

There was a bunker ahead, less than twenty metres, but the bomber squadron behind was approaching fast. They dived through the firing slit as the first of the explosives hit the water.

The booming noise got closer, and closer and closer until it seemed like they were right on top of them.
The shockwave was deadly, they hadn't realised at first, but it had killed one Lemonian while they were running.

"Please, tell command, that the squadrons have screwed up" U7746 said to the noble, whom promptly produced the radio...

"One casualty, friendly fire. Beachhead secure. Relay the message" He said

"I'm in command here!" The noble shouted, thrusting the radio to the Lemonian.

"I'll do it myself" He said, beggining to tap into the command frequency.

"This isn't going to go well." A Lemonian soldier remarked...

by **Mikedor** » Thu Aug 26, 2010 5:01 am

Morning had come, and the rain eased off, much to DeLisle's relief. Riding a horse in the rain wasn't anyone's idea of fun, especially on modern roads. Before embarkation, there had been several falls when the horseshoes slipped on tarmac. He checked his carbine was secure in its saddle holster and hauled himself up onto Thor's back. The horse was a 4 year old Waler, 16 hands high, and DeLisle's best friend, particularly after the discharge or transfer of the other men he'd joined up with. They'd either changed from the cavalry or served their enlistments and gone home to Mikedor, leaving DeLisle, who had accidentally signed up for longer, alone in the regiment.

The Imerian noble looked round at the blue and white ranks of the regiment. The First, Second and Third Squadrons, 250 men in each, were in a line, each man a horse width apart from his neighbours. If the time came to attack, they would move closer and charge knee to knee. The Fourth Squadron divided into two, two troops of 50 men each spread out at the front of the force as scouts, and the other three troops 250m behind the first line, as a small reserve. He signalled to the trumpeter, who blew the 'march'. The regiment began to move forward across the valley. DeLisle felt happy for the first time in a long while. Never mind that he was from Northern Mikedor and the rest were from the South. Never mind that he was miles from home, fighting a 19th century war against 21st century equipment. Never mind that the new weapons were totally untried and could easily end up being the death of them all. The Regiment was on the move, and the one thousand Mikedorians and 3 Imerian senior officers were resplendent in their white faced blue uniforms, with pith helmets strapped tightly on their heads and pennants fluttering from their lances. He urged Thor to climb the valley side, slowly reaching the top and entering a wooded downward slope. As the regiment began to near the end of the wood, onto a long, open plain, he caught sight of two scouts galloping back, bent over their horses necks.

He was close enough to hear them report to the commander and officers who had grouped around him.
'Sir! There are enemy mechanised forces by a ford, three quarters of a mile ahead. I'm afraid they saw us, sir.'
The Imerian grinned.
'How many, and are there any tanks?'
'Around a battalion sir, with 10 tanks and about 30 APCs.'
'They saw you? Nevermind, can't be helped. Trumpeter, sound the assemble as soon as we're out of the woods.' Turning to the Mikedorian squadron commanders, he said, 'Gentlemen, I think it's time to try these new Pattern 5s.'
'Yes, sir!'

The squadrons filed out of the woods and formed into line, closing the gaps between the men until they were knee to knee. There was a saying at lancer barracks, 'Your flanking men in the charge should be closer than your wife. Even closer than your whore'. It had been drilled into the recruits until it was second nature. The Regiment began to trot towards the enemy force. They would increase speed as they got nearer.

by **Wolohanistan** » Thu Aug 26, 2010 6:43 am

OOC: Sorry I haven't been on folks, my ISP's messed up and I have no internet. I'm over at my friends house.

by **Imeriata** » Thu Aug 26, 2010 12:24 pm

FRALYSIA
Neo Prutenia/Ramsetia/ Orcoa/Wolohanistan/Lzar Naten landings

No matter how fast they charged no matter how hard they tried did not the militia stood a chance and where simply cut down by the fire and the furious charge from the madmen in wolf pelts. As the sergeant looked around could he see nothing but death and destruction in their own ranks as they came closer and closer to the enemy but then did it felt as the entire world simply stopped as a giant force pushed him backwards as his sight darkened. The last thing he ever saw in the darker and darker world where as the few of his last comrades where cut down by the enemy fire then did all turn black and he saw nothing more.

Kazerne landings

Explosions started ripping pieces of earth apart as mortar rounds struck all around them showering the men that laid in cower in earth and sometime even rocks and every cascade of earth where followed by both quiet grunts in pain or surprised cries as a bigger rock had followed the rain of dirt into the trench. But then did all change as a round struck home and this time where both blood, meat and bones part of the cascade immediately followed by pain filled cries. "RETURN FIRE! RETURN FIRE!" the lieutenant shouted and his order where quickly followed by the "thomp" sound mortars did when loaded then did their own mortars roared as the spitted death and destruction towards the enemy that had attacked them and murdered their comrades.

The 44th semi-mechanized battalion

"HOSTILES SPOTTED!" A panicking cry could be heard over the com, the reaction of the commanding officer where immediate as he rushed to the tower to see what where going on. What waited him where nothing he had ever been prepared for as a blue and white tide of horsemen rode down amongst the tight column of tanks. What made the problem worse where that as they touched the tanks with their lances did a massive blast follow and left a hole in the armoured side and after that did the tanks simply stop no reports where sent and no hail where answered. He jumped down to at least try to get the tanks to organize and fight back but the only had time to take up the radio before part of the wall disappeared and in its place did a huge flame cover the tank followed with glowing hot metal pieces that the explosion thrown into the small compartment inside the tank. He did not even had time to say something as flames engulfed him and he where ripped apart by the metal that bounced around when it hit the walls ensuring in that everyone where hit and ripped to shreds as even the command tank stopped dead in its tracks as no one told the metal beast what to do any more.

Villens (village in way of the Iron dragoons)

The men had all heard the noise as the first IFVs came riding over the hill just a kilometer or so outside the city. The sight of the armoured monsters where really horrifying and even if they had spent most of the day fortifying the city with sandbags and whatever they could get their hands on did most men and women in the militia feel the cold grip of terror get a hold on their hearts as they took their positions in the hopes that they would be able to hold of the oncoming wave of steel and iron.

Lemonian Non-Human Regulars

[i]"They took cover in that bunker sarge I saw it myself!" one of the men pointed to the bunker where he had seen the strange creature in the enemy uniform had slipped into.
"Then do we drive them out!" the sergeant smiled as he waved his hand towards the enemy held bunker "CHARGE!" he shouted as he rushed forth followed by the rest of his men ready to storm in with bayonets lowered to stick and cut down any enemy they would find inside

Imeriata
Neo Prutenia/Ramsetia/ Orcoa/Wolohanistan/Lzar Naten landings

"My jarl squire commander the shore seems to be cleared out!" the older man said to the young nobleman next to him "should we land then so your Jarlship could command your troops?" and while he had served as the military mentor of young jarl Marik auf Mandrik for his entire six years long officer training and now at the age of sixteen had first been given a command of his own, to oversee part of an army under the jarl commander in the middle of a full-blown invasion nonetheless
"Yes I believe that would be acceptable and a proper course of action for the time!" the young man said as he gave the landing ship they stood before a suspicious look "So I take it we are supposed to use this thing then?" he said as disapprovingly shook his head "well... yes my jarl squire commander, what is the problem my jarl squire commander?" the older man asked a bit surprised over the young man's seemingly dislike for the transport
"Nothing, I am fine!" the young man snapped at him "and where is that stupid servant elf? I sent her to get that meal almost five minutes ago!" he continued in the same irritated voice but as soon as those words had left his mouth as the young elven girl came running carrying a basket that where filled with cheeses, bread, a lot of grapes and a bottle of fine wine. "Ah splendid that will most likely take my mind of that cursed water!" the younger jarl said to no one in particular but the three other noblemen that served as his staff gave each other uncomfortable looks as the girl came closer with the basket
"My jarl squire commander?" did one of the more junior officers decided to cut in
"What is it your lordship?" the young man said as he where more busy studying the running elf than the officers behind him that seemed to do their best not to look "Well why do you have to keep her so lightly dressed if my Jarl squire commander do not have a problem with that question?" he said as he gave her dress that left the girl’s cleavage and arms widely exposed for the world to see "I mean that is not civilized, she is practically naked!" he finished his disapproving comment
"nonsense, as the highest ranking member both in linage and in military rank can I assure you that it is not a problem your lordship!" The young boy snapped at the lord that desperately looked both at the older man in the group and the other similar aged officer desperate to find some support against the young boy but both simply looked away seemingly admiring the higher decks of the ship, he even went so far to attempt to find some support from the superior squad of soldiers and the non-human servants behind him in an attempt to find at least some support even if a bunch of commoners would not be able to back him against a nobleman.
"Well of course my jarl squire commander, I only meant..." he began before being cut off by the boy as he waved away his explanation with a hand gesture as the young boy led his elf down to the transport while he gave the ocean a suspicious look before he sat down next to the elf, a bit to close if the junior officer where anything to judge by but he where a mere lord while the boy where both his commanding officer and a jarl and as the only thing he where superior in where experience so did he decide that it where for the best to simply ignore it and say to himself that the uncivilized act did not occur and simply try to enjoy the ride to the shore.

Five minutes did the ride to the shore took but when they arrived and the young lord Göran auf Gyllenhill could finally feel Terra Firma under his boots could he say that the inappropriate behaviour displayed by the young jarl where worth it. As he looked upon him did he look just as any normal man in his age as he sent away a couple of tomtar* to fetch the other foreign officers. He himself wore the white and yellow officer uniform just as any officer in the guard and even his fake moustache and side burn where according to what where appropriate for a young lord in his age, but the way he looked upon the almost naked elf did gave Göran shivers and he felt even a bit disgusted by it.

command ship relaying information to Lemonian Non-Human Regulars

The communication officer could not believe what he was hearing, a bomber hitting their own forces? Impossible
"That would not be a possibility as the calculations where and the orders to attack came from the air command itself! And the chain of command is never wrong!" the officer snapped at the voice at the other side of the line "or!" he continued as he took up a old book and turned up a page "to quote 'the battle doctrine of the royal guard'!" he said as he cleared his throat "'The chain of command no matter how strange their decisions may seem to you at the moment is naught wrong for they have their position granted not only by the right of their blood but also do they live with the blessing of his royal highness, this alone makes them worthy to follow to the end! their decisions may seem strange at times but fear not loyal and noble defender of the federation for you are not alone as hundreds upon hundreds comrades in arms fight next to you and as you are even they guided by the blessed hand of the high command who in turn are guided by the silver forged** himself as he guides our victorious forces to greater glory!" he finished his reading "Now continue to hold the beach until re-enforcements can arrive!" he finished the conversation

* a non-human creature from Scandinavian folklore which is more commonly known around the world as garden gnomes (or at least the creatures the garden gnomes represent).
** holy chronological (Imerian religion) god of war also known as Bel.

by **Orcoa** » Thu Aug 26, 2010 1:30 pm

Captain Hans Irontooth sees the boats coming to the shore and he smiles as he cuts off the leader of the rebels's head and takes it as a trophy. He finds a bottle of booze near a body and he takes it. Taking a long drink from it, he waits for orders from high command to go forward into the landmass with his troops

by **Kazerne** » Thu Aug 26, 2010 2:49 pm

21st Infantry Regiment
Contested landing grounds

The accuracy of the 21st could not be doubted. Pain filled shrieks ripped the air, and the dull thump of the mortars lent thier own flavor of destruction to the environment. In some places, the enemy was breaking, but in others, it was concentrating. Lieutenant Zoller, for all his efforts, found his platoon as one of the focal points.

"Contact left! They're breaking through!" A sergeant shouted before he threw a grenade to force the militiamen to keep their heads down. Zoller responded almost instantly.

"Canyon-One-One, engage targets as you see fit!" The young officer ordered calmly over his radio, and grinned in primal satisfaction as his first squad began to open up on the attackers. That smile faded, though, when he saw 'technicals', really just heavy-duty trucks with mounted weapons, come up against the platoon's lines.

"Ridge-Two-Five, technicals at one o'clock! Take 'em out!" The weapons team responded almost instantly, taking aim with thier Panzerfaust launchers and letting loose a volley. It wasn't enough, however, as the trucks were still too far away. Worse, it appeared that heavier vehicles were approaching.

"Werewolf, this is Canyon One. Request fire support on grid Papa Tango Five Three Niner. Target is enemy vehicles in the open, posing immediate threat to line Alpha. Do you copy, over?" A hush of static greeted the lieutenant, but he sighed in relief when the regimental FSO responded.

"Understood, Canyon One. We see it, the one-two-zero mikes are on it. Cover your ears, it's gonna be loud." Behind the FSO, the 120mm mortars began to thump, sending a larger breed of destruction down on the militia. We need to break these men, or else we won't break through to the objective.

by **Ramsetia** » Thu Aug 26, 2010 3:13 pm

((Don't worry, Wolo, You only missed out on repelling a bayonet charge.))

Ramset Auxillary force, secured bunkers near hilltop city
Kubrick dropped heavily against the base of the local fortifications, head resting back and eyes closed under the armoured plates over his face. He still held his straightblade, keeping it off the ground and out of it's sheathe for a while longer yet. He reached out a gauntleted hand towards his command unit, waving a radio operator closer
"Radio the Marshalls. Tell them the western beaches are secure, and that the support vessels and Orlkjestad can make landing and establish a supply zone. Inform him of the death of the Wolohanistani commander, and that I can take temporary command, if no replacement officers are available." Kubrick said, softly, reaching up beneath his right arm an slowly working at the straps that held his pauldrons in place "Then contact my officers, tell them to establish defensive positions until the supply camp is fitted, and we can request further munitions."
The radio operator nodded sharply, relaying the message as requested while the Ramset CO rested back against the makeshift wall, finally taking the time to relax and recover after staring down that desperate, wide-eyed bayonet charge the militia had performed, only to be cut down a metre at most from the Ramset line.

The white uniforms milled about, a few taking a seat on the rocky, gravely sand that gave way to the lush greens of grass beyond the line of fortifications. The kind of terrain the Arivadans loved to hide in, but that wasn't on their mind, shaky hands taking quick and furtive sips from water bottles, hand-loading expended magazines with the bulky rifle rounds, some taking a few moments to remove less essential pieces of armour and get comfortable as they waited.

Kubrick watched blade of his sword as he tracked it along a strip of terrytowel that lined the inside of his left gauntlet, cleaning the blood from his blade before it started to eat away at the metal. Leaving his pack and rifle behind, he stood up, sheathing his sword at his left hip, pressed against the sheathe of the short knife he was to carry as a member of the Imerian forces. Armour-shod boots walking slowly, making the sand and gravel rasp underfoot as he searched for 'Krugghat', and the Orcoan Commander, wanting to touch base with the other regiments deployed along this line, to see what each force had to work with and what they could bring to the table in the push into that city

by **Orcoa** » Thu Aug 26, 2010 6:31 pm

Ramsetia wrote:((Don't worry, Wolo, You only missed out on repelling a bayonet charge.))

Ramset Auxillary force, secured bunkers near hilltop city
Kubrick dropped heavily against the base of the local fortifications, head resting back and eyes closed under the armoured plates over his face. He still held his straightblade, keeping it off the ground and out of it's sheathe for a while longer yet. He reached out a gauntleted hand towards his command unit, waving a radio operator closer
"Radio the Marshalls. Tell them the western beaches are secure, and that the support vessels and Orlkjestad can make landing and establish a supply zone. Inform him of the death of the Wolohanistani commander, and that I can take temporary command, if no replacement officers are available." Kubrick said, softly, reaching up beneath his right arm an slowly working at the straps that held his pauldrons in place "Then contact my officers, tell them to establish defensive positions until the supply camp is fitted, and we can request further munitions."
The radio operator nodded sharply, relaying the message as requested while the Ramset CO rested back against the makeshift wall, finally taking the time to relax and recover after staring down that desperate, wide-eyed bayonet charge the militia had performed, only to be cut down a metre at most from the Ramset line.

The white uniforms milled about, a few taking a seat on the rocky, gravely sand that gave way to the lush greens of grass beyond the line of fortifications. The kind of terrain the Arivadans loved to hide in, but that wasn't on their mind, shaky hands taking quick and furtive sips from water bottles, hand-loading expended magazines with the bulky rifle rounds, some taking a few moments to remove less essential pieces of armour and get comfortable as they waited.

Kubrick watched blade of his sword as he tracked it along a strip of terrytowel that lined the inside of his left gauntlet, cleaning the blood from his blade before it started to eat away at the metal. Leaving his pack and rifle behind, he stood up, sheathing his sword at his left hip, pressed against the sheathe of the short knife he was to carry as a member of the Imerian forces. Armour-shod boots walking slowly, making the sand and gravel rasp underfoot as he searched for 'Krugghat', and the Orcoan Commander, wanting to touch base with the other regiments deployed along this line, to see what each force had to work with and what they could bring to the table in the push into that city

The Orcoan regiment stoped all they were where doing and saw the Ramset Auxillary force coming up the hill and down to them. Captain Hans Irontooth goes and meets the commander of the Ramset forces.
"Hail friend in arms, what can a son of Orcoa do for you?" said Hans, he smiles at Kubrick

by **Mikedor** » Fri Aug 27, 2010 4:06 am

DeLisle groaned and slowly checked his extremities. All there. Good. A small explosion startled him, and he turned to see a plume of smoke emerging from a tank that was covered in aerials. He cast his gaze over the ford and its environs. Mangled horses, men in stained blue and white uniforms and others, in drab clothing, pierced by lances. Then he heard the sounds of the aftermath, the groans and shrieks of wounded men, and the banshee wails of horses yet to be put out of their misery. A horse walked up to him and nuzzled against his arm. Thor had survived!

He hauled himself to his feet. The last he remembered of the battle was a a flame leaving a tank gun, the men on either side suddenly disappearing in a cacophony of screams, and heading alone for the command tank. He'd risen in the stirrups, thrust the lance home, and been hurled backwards off the horse as his world was filled with light and noise.

It appeared his new-fangled lance had hit something vital, or someone else's had.

Major Parker was standing by the Imerian Knight-Lieutenant. They turned when they saw DeLisle approach.
'DeLisle! I'm afraid we lost a few, even if we did wipe them out. Your troop has only 9 left'
9. Out of 50. Dear God.
'So, congratulations, Guidon-Sergeant'
It took a few seconds to sink in. Guidon Sergeant.
'Thank you, sir!'
'Its no problem, you deserve it. We'll move out in an hour, after we've buried the dead. There are 30, and 100 wounded, mostly from 1st Squadron. We surprised the enemy, but not well enough. And now we're out of Pattern 5s, we've only got carbines, revolvers, swords and standard lances, and not much ammunition for them. Luckily, there's a horse for every man that can ride, and the lightly wounded will escort the rest and the prisoners back to the landing beach.'
------
The Regiment moved into a small town 10 miles down the road. They were exhausted, and had fought a hard battle that morning, but they saw to their horses before eating their rations and bedding down. The town was deserted, with more than enough room for 870 cavalrymen and Major Parker and the Knight-Lieutenant decided to make it the base of their operations. From here, they could cause havoc, raiding the countryside and diverting enemy forces to help the other regiments.
That suited Guidon-Sergeant DeLisle. His squadron was assigned as a permanent guard on the town while the other three went of raiding. Warm bed, warm food, and a rest. What else could he ask for?

by **Kazerne** » Fri Aug 27, 2010 7:27 am

21st Infantry Regiment
Head of the peninsula

Colonel Ribost looked out over the wooded hills of the island as the regiment prepared to bivouac. The vehicles that had been requisitioned from Command had finally made it ashore, and the regiment had put them to good use in the breakout. Sadly, the 21st had lost twenty-two men to the militia's desperate charges, as well as thirty wounded. Despite this, reinforcements were due to arrive within the next few days in the form of a company of Kazernian Rangers, the unit that most in the Light Infantry advanced into. Regardless, the regiment was closer to its supposed objective than it had been.

"Herr Oberst. A word, if you would be so kind." The Kazernian turned to see an Imeriatan Knight-Lieutenant standing just outside the command tent. The man was the equivalent of a Staff Captain, to Ribost's way of thinking. He fulfilled a special liason role that also included fighting alongside foreign forces, and had become a de-facto member of the regiment due to his courage. Despite this, however, the Imeriatan was still an outsider, and painfully aware of it.

"No problem at all. What is it, Knight-Lieutenant?" Ribost waved the man in, and turned back to looking out across the countryside.

"Colonel, I know that your breakout was well executed, but I'm concerned that you are understrength here. I know the Twenty-First's reputation, but you need heavy armor to help you out here. I suggest that--" The Knight-Lieutenant was cut off by Ribost's hand.

"I know exactly what you want me to do. You want to fight this war the way that your commanders want it fought. I, for one, refuse to do that. The Twenty-First relies upon mobility, and that means using any terrain to our advantage. A vehicle train limits where we can fight. The light vehicles that we have serve the purpose of transporting us long distances, and the few armored vehicles are a nice security cordon. However, the Light Infantry, and the Rangers that will be here, like to fight in the woods and hills, not in the roads." Ribost paused to wave an arm across the expanse of the island. "We might be on the enemy's home ground, but we know how to fight him on it. I'm sure that your counterparts in the other formations are trying to do the same thing, but the different styles of fighting will throw the enemy off. Not establishing a pattern is a hallmark of a succesful commander, young man. It is best that you remember that." The Knight-Lieutenant was sufficiently shocked by Ribost's vehement argument that he had no ready reply. The Kazernian dismissed his objections from his mind, and got back to the task of advancing towards Objective X-ray, thier target on the island.

by **Castryan** » Fri Aug 27, 2010 9:35 am

Castryan forward scout regiment (Is it cool if I was to drop in before you guys invaded ? I am scouts, so this'd be useful)

The landings were not as difficult as originally thought. After dropping in the day before the invasion over a safer area of the country, the Castryans merely had to wait for the Mcconian 'Swamp rats' to make their way north to their position. By that point, Castryan scouts would have pushed further north, to the banks of the lake where the supply depot was positioned. They wouldn't attack though, that wasn't their mission. They only had to make sure that the pathway was secure enough for the push north. The Castryans expected as much. They were of course, communists in a monarchist army.

After the banks of the lake were secure they were going to head west, into enemy territory, away from the charge. From there they'd search for an apparent 'radio station' and begin trying to win the people over.

The troops packed up their parachutes and unpacked their rifles, a modified silenced submachine gun. Brought from the motherland. They placed their knives into their holsters across their chest and set off, heading north through the mangroves.

by **Ramsetia** » Fri Aug 27, 2010 7:07 pm

RWO-held beach, Command Section.

Kubrick looked to Hans impassively, then towards Krugghat. He was all business, for the time being.
"I've sent word to high command. We wait for the Orlkjestad and our supply train to move up to the shoreline and secure themselves, re-stock ammunition and grenades, and then move on the city the second we're re-armed" He said, calmly, looking to his side as one of his own soldiers approached. Roman numerals on his left pauldron, and a distinctive concentric triangle design marking his regiment and squadron, while the dull and unpolished steel of his throat guard made it known he was only a soldier. He held in his hand a series of reports. Kubrick accepted them without decorum, as was his normal manner, thanking the Ramset soldier like an equal.
"Casualty reports." He said, handing the Wolohanistani and Orcoan their own casualty lists. Kurbick had to smile inwardly, though, thankful for the large and prominent collar of his uniform for hiding his own relief. High casualties, as to be expected of an ocean front landing on hostile shores, but very few fatalities for the shieldless.

"That should give our less-badly wounded men time to recover, and let our fit soldiers eat and rest. Hans, your men should take the first watch, I don't think I heard a single rifle report from your side, so you should have the most ammunition left. The shieldless will take second watch, and Krugghat, your men can rest until we're done, you've been on the ground the longest, after all." It was only a suggestion, but the way Kubrick spoke, his voice heavy with experience and thick with his own history as a soldier, made it seem less a recommendation, and more an order. He looked down at his once-white tunic, and laughed a little bit as he dusted the gray and black flecks of dirt and gravel from the material.
"Well, perhaps it's best no Imerian nobles made it this far, I'm certain I'd be disciplined for letting my uniform get this bad" he said, a light, if slightly forced joke, trying to raise the mood a little for his comrades.

by **Orcoa** » Fri Aug 27, 2010 8:18 pm

Ramsetia wrote:RWO-held beach, Command Section.

Kubrick looked to Hans impassively, then towards Krugghat. He was all business, for the time being.
"I've sent word to high command. We wait for the Orlkjestad and our supply train to move up to the shoreline and secure themselves, re-stock ammunition and grenades, and then move on the city the second we're re-armed" He said, calmly, looking to his side as one of his own soldiers approached. Roman numerals on his left pauldron, and a distinctive concentric triangle design marking his regiment and squadron, while the dull and unpolished steel of his throat guard made it known he was only a soldier. He held in his hand a series of reports. Kubrick accepted them without decorum, as was his normal manner, thanking the Ramset soldier like an equal.
"Casualty reports." He said, handing the Wolohanistani and Orcoan their own casualty lists. Kurbick had to smile inwardly, though, thankful for the large and prominent collar of his uniform for hiding his own relief. High casualties, as to be expected of an ocean front landing on hostile shores, but very few fatalities for the shieldless.

"That should give our less-badly wounded men time to recover, and let our fit soldiers eat and rest. Hans, your men should take the first watch, I don't think I heard a single rifle report from your side, so you should have the most ammunition left. The shieldless will take second watch, and Krugghat, your men can rest until we're done, you've been on the ground the longest, after all." It was only a suggestion, but the way Kubrick spoke, his voice heavy with experience and thick with his own history as a soldier, made it seem less a recommendation, and more an order. He looked down at his once-white tunic, and laughed a little bit as he dusted the gray and black flecks of dirt and gravel from the material.
"Well, perhaps it's best no Imerian nobles made it this far, I'm certain I'd be disciplined for letting my uniform get this bad" he said, a light, if slightly forced joke, trying to raise the mood a little for his comrades.

"Good idea, I'll get some of my boys to watch our asses. LINK!!!" yelled Hans Irontooth, a smaller man with red hair comes and looks at Hans with fear
"Yes sir?" said Link, he holds a report in his hand. Hans takes and reads it, he smiles as he does.
"Looks like I got a report.....seems the lizard men are having trouble in their landing" said Hans, he turns to Kubrick as his men take first watch.
"You think we should help?" said Hans, his eyebrow rised

by **Mikedor** » Sat Aug 28, 2010 1:49 pm

The First Squadron was back on operations, unexpectedly. The Regiment was no longer to halt in the town, but rather carry on to fulfil their mission of advancing into the rear of the troops opposing the landings. They'd lost or used all their anti-tank lances, though, so any armour would be taken on 'Polish fashion', as a suicidal charge was known by the troopers.
Guidon Sergeant DeLisle was tired. He'd only got two hours sleep before the radio call to get moving again had forced the Regiment back out into the cold. Drooping slightly in Thor's saddle, he led the remnants of his troop into a loose formation. They would move ahead and scout. The regiment had to move along a thin track through a dense forest if it was to make up the time. They would be sitting ducks, so it was doubly important that he did his job well. Thor trotted along until DeLisle slowed him. Good to see someone had some energy.

The regiment was surrounded by a hostile, claustrophobic forest, when DeLisle began to drift in and out of sleep, still on horseback, oblivious to the world. The other lancers in the scouting troop were in a similar state, as was the regiment behind, even Major Parker, who had a reputation of being always awake, always watchful.

by **Imeriata** » Sat Aug 28, 2010 4:59 pm

Imeriata
RWO (amongst other)-held beach, Command Section.

True to Imerian fashion did a fanfare from one of the pages that had followed young jarl squire commander Marik auf Mandrik, the older and the two younger officers and the rest of the soldiers and non-human servants that followed the sixteen year old squire commander as he with as much determination his young face could muster walked into the command section
"I Have the honour of presenting his jarlship jarl squire commander Marik auf Mandrik, your commanding officer!" the page shouted in Imerian as soon as he had finished playing the trumpet "His Jarlship do also request the attention of all members of the rank knight lieutenant to immediately report for further orders!" he continued and did as a result received a approving nod from the young man whom had assumed what was supposed to be the most official and authority giving stance the young man could think of, however did the combination of the fake facial hair and his young face and body make it seem a bit ridiculous.

21st Infantry Regiment

"Now wait here one gods cursed minute!" The officer said in Imerian as he rushed after the Colonel as he waved a quite old looking leather book that time had not been so kind to.
"I do frankly not care how you run things in your army or country Colonel, But here in the royal guard do we both respect proper authority and we follows both the commands from our superiors and the teachings of the battle doctrine!" he continued as he tried not to fall in the high leather boots while running up to the officer "and in this instant so do the battle doctrine says that the right course of action is to either fortify or to call in air/artillery support and when the enemy is sufficient soften up so do you attack with the bayonet! IS THAT UNDERSTOOD COLONEL?" he finished the sentence a bit more angrily than he had anticipated.

FRALYSIA
Castryan forward scout regiment

The few men and women that served as guards for the special radio station didn't exactly take their duties in the most serious fashion as now where most of them more concerned about what hand they had in poker or if the officers would notice the many bottles of beer that lay around their position than actually guarding the damned thing. So it was like this they were unaware about the imminent danger that awaited them.

City of Marindria, southern front command

Marindira was a buzzing center of activities now-a-days as artillery and infantry marched into the city all the time while the soldiers that already where here did their best to build the trenches that where needed to defend the city and fortify them with both concrete and wood while both bunkers, artillery positions and mile after mile of barbed wire where taking shape to form a hopefully impregnable line to hold off the invaders. This where however not the only sound of commotion as the sound of marching and building men where all but drenched by the sound of crying children, worried mothers and panicking fathers as the entire civilian population did their best to get as far away from the coming battle as possible.

OOC: Will get to the rest of you tomorrow hopefully and I am sorry about the delay.

by **Wolohanistan** » Sat Aug 28, 2010 6:24 pm

Krugghat and the surviving Wolohanistani's trudged toward their Ramsetian counter-parts. Their assault had went well but you couldn't tell from the look on their faces. Emotionless as ever. The fact that their enemies were hastily formed militia didn't go down too well. Fighting and killing a desperate and Ill prepared enemy wasn't honourable by strict, Wolohanistani standards. A few sat down clumsily, tired legs giving way at the chance of a quick rest.
Krugghat, however, strode toward Kubrick.

After viewing the casualty list, Krugghat sighed. A few good soldiers had been lost. After handing the list to a nearby trooper, he turned his attention to Kubrick. He laughed slightly at Kubrick's comment. It was more of a wheeze than a laugh and it soon turned into a hacking cough. The general atmosphere of battle had irritated an old ailment. He regained his compusure and began to speak.
"I caught your message on the radio. The lads will be slightly more comfortable with an officer who's proven themself. They're a bit weary just now but some rest will do them a world of good. Give us a shout when we're up for watch and I'll send a few teams out."

by **Kazerne** » Sat Aug 28, 2010 6:28 pm

HQ Tent, 21st Infantry Regiment
MLR, Southern Island

Colonel Ribost looked harshly at the Imerian. I don't care if this jumped-up noble is my liaison between us and High Command, he deserves what he's getting. The colonel had served a tour as a Junior OCS instructor at a secondary school, and knew exactly how to speak to a pupil that had failed to measure up.

"In case you didn't notice, Knight-Lieutenant," he began, emphasizing the man's junior rank in an unmistakeable fashion, "The 21st Infantry has been seconded, not permanently assigned, to the Imerian Royal Guard. The difference between that, I hope you recognize, is like that between a suggestion and an order. As such, we respect what your Battle Doctrine states, but there is no reason for us to use our own tactics and doctrines in order to deal with a situation effectively.

"Second, the 21st has the role of light infantry. We cannot afford the logistic tail nor the vehicle train that heavier formations have organically. If we are to have heavy units, they must be attatched to us, with all the logistic support that goes along with it. We move fast, we move light, and we hit hard. The one hundred and twenty millimeter mortars attatched to the Regiment as a combat team is the heaviest concentration of firepower that we have, mandated by the requirements of our mission here. We fight with rifles and grenades, with knife and fist. We move and shoot with supporting fire, minimizing our exposure and maximizeing fire on target. If our tactics conflict with what your Imperial Battle Doctrine calls for, then I offer my humble apologies. However, if our tactics happen to save more of our men's lives and inflict more damage on the enemy than your tactics demand, then I am not going to use the more wasteful of the two!"

Colonel Ribost's outburst had by now attracted the attention of his staff, notably Stabshauptmann, or Staff Captain, Christian Gruebner. Gruebner was the regiment's assault officer, in charge of raids and special operations missions, and Ranger-qualified, to boot. He began to move towards his commanding officer, clearly seeing the volcano about to erupt.

"I want to make one last thing clear, Knight-Lieutenant. You can threaten and browbeat me as much as you want, but if you ever, ever try to do the same to one of my officers or men, I will make you wish you had never been born. Is that clear?" Ribost's voice now had the over-controlled, ice cold tone of a man on the brink of violence. Staff Captain Gruebner only hoped he had arrived in time.

by **Ramsetia** » Sat Aug 28, 2010 9:42 pm

RWO-Held beach, Command section
Kubrick nodded a bit "Get yourself some rest, too, Krugghat, I'll call when you're needed" The officer said, under the fanfare the page provided. Kubrick's un-armoured face turned towards the Imerian junior officer, and regarded him slowly, struggling to hide a laugh at the young man's false beard, and making a point of reaching his own hand up to stroke down along the tightly-braided beard that graced his own face, an attempt to make the Imerian nervous, paranoid about his beard accessory
"Knight-lieutenants Kubrick Anlee and Hans Irontooth reporting" he said, saluting in the Imerian manner, pointer finger to the rim of his oversized, poofy beret, sunlight filtering through a pair of lucky misses that had torn through the satin around his head.

His calm, weathered tone ran slowly through the more senior officers, helping to limit, if not remove any fears about the foreigner's skill and experience at command of a regiment. The long, straight-bladed sword resting at his left hip alongside the short Imerian Federal Dagger proudly display it's nonstandard style, the trigger-loop handguard, and hooped pommel with the almost flag-like hankerchief tied through it adding another splash of bright colour to the slate-gray backdrop presented by Kubrick's armour. His brown eyes remained on the superior officer, as though judging him, for just a moment longer, before gazing over the rest of the gathered officers
"With all due respect, Sirs. This beach may be secure, but perhaps the shoreline would be a safer location to have this talk. We wouldn't want the lady to be wounded, after all" Kubrick intoned, leveraging the Imerian reluctance to let women into warfare, as though he hardly even realised the woman was an elf.

by **St George of England** » Sun Aug 29, 2010 4:07 am

50,000 ft in the air

Sir Thomas Darvin looked at his men. There were two dozen in the plane and another 3 planes held the same amount. The Black Bowmen regiment had bee given orders three days before. There were to parachute in after the Coastlines had been secured by the men of the 94th.

He looked at his second-in-commander, a freeholder called Francis James, as he briefed the men, shouting over the roar of the engines.

"This is an artillery support mission. Our guns were on board the Imerian ships that arrived here. We're parachuting in, advancing forward and providing mortar and artillery support for Ramsetian forces. Intel says they've made a breach in the enemy fortifications, after we go in, our job is to pound their infantry into hiding. Killing the bastards is the job for regulars."

"Stand by, we're approaching the drop!" Came the shout from the cock-pit.

"Right then, Two Squad, you go first, next is Three Squad, with One Squad bringing up the rear. Ready?"

Francis pointed at the drop lights near the exit of the plane, the drop doors had already opened and, when the first light went green, the 8 men that made up two squad jumped into the sky. They were followed, two minutes later, by the men of three squad, before one squad, led by Sir Darvin, jumped three minutes after that.

by **Imeriata** » Sun Aug 29, 2010 6:43 am

Imeriata
HQ Tent, 21st Infantry Regiment MLR, Southern Island

"Do not take that tone with me my good sir!" the Imerian officer continued a bit to annoyed about his honour being questioned by this foreigner to take the hint "I am a high lord of the federation and specifically the blessed center of the federation herself, Imeriata proper! I can trace my lineage backwards for more than eighteen generations and have by birthright been educated in the royal military academy so you will take what I have to say under advisement" he continued a bit more angry at the man before him, how could he even think he had any right to talk in such a manner to him "I could have a attackwing of raven bomber or a battleship here in no time to support such an offensive especially since we got the order to attack from high command!"

RWO-Held beach, Command section

"Nonsense she is not even human so would she be hit would the bullet simply reveal the enemy forces for our own men without us losing anything important!" The young man simply dismissed the Ramsets comment as he was commenting a non-existing flaw in the most natural thing, which he then again where. The elf maid however seemed not as thrilled by her masters worlds so she did instead look down on her shoes in an attempt to focus her mind on something else. While the two younger officers exchanged a quick uncomfortable look between one another and one seemed about to say something when the other shook his head and the pair returned to look away and not make eye contact with the other foreign officers.
"However I do bring orders from high command knight lieutenant..." he said but hesitated for a moment "Kubrock auf Andree was it not?" he asked before he continued "I bring as stated orders from high command that you all are to form up your men in marching order for the advance on Marindria, on the way will we meet up with other forces and begin the first parts of the siege, while we await re-enforcements!"

by **Orcoa** » Sun Aug 29, 2010 8:12 am

Imeriata wrote:
Imeriata
HQ Tent, 21st Infantry Regiment MLR, Southern Island

"Do not take that tone with me my good sir!" the Imerian officer continued a bit to annoyed about his honour being questioned by this foreigner to take the hint "I am a high lord of the federation and specifically the blessed center of the federation herself, Imeriata proper! I can trace my lineage backwards for more than eighteen generations and have by birthright been educated in the royal military academy so you will take what I have to say under advisement" he continued a bit more angry at the man before him, how could he even think he had any right to talk in such a manner to him "I could have a attackwing of raven bomber or a battleship here in no time to support such an offensive especially since we got the order to attack from high command!"

RWO-Held beach, Command section

"Nonsense she is not even human so would she be hit would the bullet simply reveal the enemy forces for our own men without us losing anything important!" The young man simply dismissed the Ramsets comment as he was commenting a non-existing flaw in the most natural thing, which he then again where. The elf maid however seemed not as thrilled by her masters worlds so she did instead look down on her shoes in an attempt to focus her mind on something else. While the two younger officers exchanged a quick uncomfortable look between one another and one seemed about to say something when the other shook his head and the pair returned to look away and not make eye contact with the other foreign officers.
"However I do bring orders from high command knight lieutenant..." he said but hesitated for a moment "Kubrock auf Andree was it not?" he asked before he continued "I bring as stated orders from high command that you all are to form up your men in marching order for the advance on Marindria, on the way will we meet up with other forces and begin the first parts of the siege, while we await re-enforcements!"

Captain Hans sees the elf girl and he frowns, to have a women without a weapon is foolish and stupid. Its the same stupid tradtions that make Hans turn green when he is near one of his Imeriata commanders. He walks to the elf girl and pulls out a handgun.
"Take this...you will need it" said Hans, his old soul worried for this girl on the battlefield

by **Nocticula** » Sun Aug 29, 2010 8:15 am

City of Marindria, Eastern outskirts assault

Kakhath Graer and his merry band of Niermark legionaires of the 80th company, were holed up in what the map he was given had said was the outskirts of a military grouping near the city of Marindria. Glance around didnt require one to know when a map was inaccurate. He guessed that in the confusion of disembarking and deployment things happened. Still, with the sh*t hitting the fan of late, he didnt mind being out of the loop as it were. At least until a few hours ago.

Another Nalath Raithathath that he trusted had found him, with what was left of his company. Nalath Raithathath Dak had gathered the lads up, so that all eyes could rest on Khan Mekor of the Niermark 277th Regiment and listen to what was said. " We've found ourselves in a position, that as of the moment will put us in tandem with the Ramset Auxillary force, and some others massing in the southern territory. As it is, if we go now, we'll catch the defenders off guard. The downside, it'll probably only be us, and it'll be house to house fighting once in the city."

Graer nodded and then pulled out a laminated map, motioning to Merkor, Dak and Kan, using a pen to identify the terrain. At least the map hadnt been wrong about that." We need to cross the eastern gap, it's the quickest way to the nearest enemy lines. Militia were reported in the area, but I doubt they will be any real danger. Our biggest concern will be the armored vehicles reported in the area. We'll use the night's cover and head through the waterways, the fields and through the weakest part of the lines. Mekor nodded and pointed towards a point on the map.These canals are good cover, hard for the armor or emplaced guns to see us there. Might be foot patrols, we'll handle that as it comes."

A sigh and flick of the wooden match against the crumbling stone. It was a sign of bad luck to light a cigar with a zippo. Uncivilized it was. A light turn towards those of his company that had survived the zig zagging up until here. There had been roughly two hundred warriors at his command, now there was one hundred seventy five. Militia snipers, roving patrols and what not had withered his command down considerably. Tough place to hole up in to. Nalath Raithathath Dak, ever with his filterless Naji cigarettes, the sour tobacco smell permeating, the long term use reddened the teeth nearly crimson in the staining. Weary nod of head towards his newly promoted second, cracking a look through a roughly made peephole across to his opponents. Damn war was going to get him killed. As it had his previous second, Huran had died taking rifle fire in a burned out apartment buildings remains against militia.

Gesture towards his troop, each scurrying about. Vlosus Sargtlin Ekal crawled on his belly, carrying the heaviest weapon in their arsenal, the Imerian Heavy Machinegun. The machinegun had earned it's marks, reliable and just light enough to pack with the advanced legionaire scout units. Nod of head and Ekal began to burst fire towards the nearest Militia position. Cigar between clenching lips, wordless orders given to Kenyet Thak're who carried the trench shotgun to flank to the right with equally ranked Kenyet Ka'Zr who hefted the anti-tank rifle and took aim as Ekal provided the covering fire. The heavy thump sound from the AT rifle as it fired and there was a shatter of debris and plume of fire and dark smoke where it hit the grocery store ahead of their position. At least Graer had assumed that's what it was at one time. Now a bunker what with the sandbags and all.

Over the broken wall he used his right hand to aid in the leaping over process. Ducking down, and scurrying across the broken pavement and crumbling sidewalks. Lifting the CSG-01 Submachinegun overhead in a sideways fashion and peppering an area where he'd seen movement just a bit before their rush manuever. Their harsh tongue never to be forgotten by the people here, would be barely heard above the din of weapons fire. Clinking objects came in through the broken windows, bouncing against makeshift defense and exploded. Shrapnel grenades tore through defenders and makeshift defensive postion alike knowing no difference between the two.

A sharp crack signified at least a few surviving as Vlosus Sargtlin Faael clutched chest, a fist sized hole leaking a red river between gloved fingers as the sniper's blow had killed the young man. Slow, as if time had stopped, the unit now down to nine watched as Faael fell to knee's and then foreward to the pavement. Graer shouted to another, Sargtlin Kale to find cover as the rapid firing of an automatic rifle found Kale as he had attempted to find cover near a burned out civillian automobile.

Stitched up the left side, from thigh to neck, Kale was quite dead before hitting the ground without so much as a groan. Graer rolled and aimed upwards, at a ledge of the grocery store's second demolished level and depressed the secondary trigger to the 35mm grenade launcher attachment. A high whining whistle and rough recoil followed, split second later a body smoldering from the thermite explosive fell somewhat near Kale. The body looked like any other corpse when dead save the uniform, the rag tag look that it was for the militia.

One by one, several dozen voices responded as they cleared the grocery store. Once outside the now smoking bunker-fort, Graer checked his map and then in the cover of several burned out vehicles, pointed towards another apartment building down the street and continued forth. The goal of his unit was to head towards the communique tower that the artillery from another regiment had shelled some days ago and discern if it was truely out or if it was operable again. And if it was, to attempt to knock it back out while avoiding the main force of the militia military units. Scurrying once more, with his back against a low wall, and booted feet to the pavement, Graer led the way.

All the officers nodded and Graer rolled up the map, tucking it within his uniform. Grasping the CSG-01 in right hand, nodded to Dak and Merkor before taking a peek with goggles towards the road and then dashed foreward. Each man followed after a time, booted feet hitting puddles and dirt, mud and whatever else as zig zagging through the burned out vehicle remains of either side. The canal reached in short order as Graer made headcount and noted a number shorter then when they left. Merkor, face full of grime shook head some.

Apparently one of his Vlosus Sargtlin's had stepped on a landmine and was already on the path to ascension. The body was just an empty shell now. Tag pocketed, Graer closed eyes a moment and then with grief past, led the way into the canal.

OOC:
Niermark Ranking

With monarchy behind us! [at-closed]

Who is online