The Final Days of Firefoxania (IC)

by **Firefoxania** » Mon Oct 03, 2022 6:48 am

On October 3rd, Firefoxania entered a state of a civil war after a Coup d'Etet was announced when several political figures were taken hostage in the Capital Building in Central Vaven. The government has sent out a distress telegram to all nearby nations to help out. You can either side with Firefoxania, or the Children of Athena and other known resistance members.

(sorry if this sounds bad. this is my first forums rp.)

by **Firefoxania** » Tue Oct 04, 2022 7:00 am

Day 2:

The Political District has been turned to rubble. All that remains is a warzone known as the "Capital Exclusion Zone." The CEZ has been under siege ever since 6:48 am yesterday, shelled with artillery from resistance groups. The Economic and Welfare Districts have reformed into "Sector Bravo" in order to combat and control the situation in the nearby zones. Sector Bravo has sent out multiple distress beacons to try and receive help from any nation willing to lend a hand. Tensions are continuing to rise as the spread of insurgency heads towards the west.

by **Firefoxania** » Wed Oct 05, 2022 7:18 am

Day 3:

After no contact from any outside nations, the people of Firefoxania have seen a rapid rise in suicide and self-harm cases due to low self-esteem. Sector Bravo is currently sending aid to multiple districts across Firefoxania to try and mimic foreign supplies. The CEZ has slowly begun to rebuild, even with constant bombardments from the terror groups. Sector Bravo also banded with the Medical District to provide mental help during these trying times, which resulted in local militias being established. A statement from Empress Aurora has been released regarding this awful event.

---TRANSCRIPT: OCTOBER 5, 2022---

My loyal subjects, this is your Empress speaking. Do not fret, I am in a safe place, far from any danger. I am here to inform you to not give up. The Children will be eradicated and Central Vavan will return to it's original, maybe even more advanced, state. End communication.

With a final bleep of a radio tone, the people took arms in what is known as Operation: Metroid.

by **Firefoxania** » Thu Oct 06, 2022 7:21 am

Day 4:

After the launch of Operation: Metroid, the militias fought back the resistance in a multi-stage defense known as "Project: Restoration." The first phase was taken to action when Sector Bravo militias succeeded in retaking the Political District and beginning to rebuild the Capital building. However, with this victory, comes downsides, such as the resistance taking 70% of the Economic District, crippling the economy of Firefoxania. This forces Aurora to make major changes to her economy. There are multiple housing crisises and stock market crashes. Foriegn aid needs to arrive soon, otherwise Operation Metroid and Project: Restoration will fail...

by **Firefoxania** » Tue Oct 11, 2022 6:58 am

Week 1:

After a cease-fire was initiated, the people of Firefoxania successfully rebuilt the Political District and Sector Bravo returned to their natural state. The cease-fire will end on this Wednesday.

by **Langong** » Wed Oct 12, 2022 10:20 am

~~deleted~~

by **Polish Prussian Commonwealth** » Thu Oct 13, 2022 3:14 pm

Soon.

by **Polska Rzeczpospolita Robotnicza** » Thu Oct 13, 2022 5:11 pm

45th Fighter-Bomber Air Regiment
Airbase at unknown location
300km from Firefoxanian border

OPERATION GROM 22
14/10/22
0300

The pilots of the 45th Fighter-Bomber Air Regiment were rapidly scrambled for takeoff procedures, orders having come through from CHALICE to the Polish Airforce's advance element that the time to strike the filth that stood in opposition to them was now. Quickly seating themselves in their aircraft whilst the ground teams scuttled around preparing the aircraft for final flight preparations, the Polish pilots rapidly began flicking the switches in their cockpits, activating vital flight components and beginning the cold start procedure; APUs providing the power needed to activate the powerful Tumansky R25-300 engines within each MiG. Orders rapidly came through the radios on each pilot's aircraft as taxiing procedures were brought into effect, and ground crews finalized their work, leaving the MiGs glistening with high-end rocket pods poised to eradicate any foe brave or foolish enough to stand up to the airframe. Each aircraft was fitted with a 800l additional fuel tank under the fuselage, with the 4 other hardpoints taken up by UB-16-57 pods containing S-5 high explosive rockets. Countermeasure pods had also been mounted in the case of emergencies. As the first of the 36 aircraft began taxiing towards the runway, the ground crews rapidly evacuated the preparation area, scrambling to safety as more aircraft began moving to takeoff.

Three squadrons of MiG-21bis airframes loaded to the gills with high explosive ordnance and packing a significant unguided munitions package were to be supplemented by CHALICE allies, who supposedly would take care of SEAD and air superiority operations according to the regimental commander of the 45th. All the MiGs needed to do was get in close to their target, and loose their payloads upon those unholy, misbegotten beings that constituted the so-called nation of 'Firefoxania'. Surely they were nothing more than a sick joke -- surely this tide of mutant filth was not a nation, even if of some twisted form. As the last of the MiGs made it into the air, the three squadrons would form up their aircraft, climbing to an altitude of 6000m and then moving at a consistent airspeed of 700km/h towards their intended targets. Squadron leader Major Ignacy Konieczny of the lead squadron was uneasy during the flight, especially on the approach to enemy borders; the enemy radar could surely detect them at any moment and his cyclical glances at his SPO-3 RWR grew more and more frequent as the squadron approached 50km off the Firefoxanian border.

The final stretch was approaching, and the pilots of the 45th all knew the score. This enemy was simply too dangerous to be left alone and be allowed to fester, and it was up to them to deliver the hammer to the anvil and kick down the rotten door. Sweat dripped from Konieczny's brow, he hated unpredictability and unknown enemies, but yet he would perform his duty for his people and for his country - to wipe those that would ever become a threat to the Polish nation from the face of the Earth. The aircraft were now nearly within this bizarre land, and soon enough their firepower would be called upon to rain down the coming storm against the misfortunate down below.

by **Hammer Britannia** » Fri Oct 14, 2022 1:54 am

The 45th Oxford Brigade had always been an oddity amongst the Hammer Britannian forces. Unlike the standard-issue undershirt and sledgehammer, Oxford had been armed with advanced technology with a WW2-Era British spin. It was functionally its own army, with a squadron of multipurpose fighters, a support battalion, an artillery battalion, an armored battalion, and two infantry battalions. The soldiers were in the last stages of preparation for the war, with soldiers rushing to complete their tasks in their base. All except for their commander, a mercenary not from British lands, who was sitting in his office chair casually browsing the internet as if nothing important was going on. The man's attire was high medieval chainmail with a kettle helmet and a cloth tunic. The tunic was white, excluding a black frog in the center. His apparent weapon of choice was a simple spear. Despite this, he was apparently well-regarded enough by the British to not only hire him as a soldier - but also hiring as a commander of one of His Majesty's most prestigious units.

The man's escapades were interrupted by a soldier running into his office. "Colonel, our forces are almost ready. Do you wish to give them a speech?"

The Colonel chuckled. He spoke in an accent far more alien than what the soldier was used to. "This ain't our first rodeo, ya hear? Ol' Pinky wants us to fight for the good of CHALICE, and he sent his best to prove our willingness. When I give the order, the 12th Infantry Battalion and 551st Fighter Squadron are going to go through that portal to establish a base of operations. And for the love of your God - do not forget your gasmasks."

Nearly 3 hours later, the 12th Battalion and 551st Fighter Squadron gathered outside a massive rectangular frame made of a strange black material. The soldiers of the 12th put on their gas masks, some a bit more excitedly than others, as the 551st made their last checks before beginning to take off. The Colonel slowly marched towards the structure, arms behind his back. When he finally reached the structure, he seemingly turned the whole thing with a simple match. Before the 12th and 551st was a portal into the country of Firefoxania.

The 12th Battalion charged in an organized fashion, some of them shooting their firearms into the air as a display of dominance. The 12th secured the area, a small rural locality in the Southeast of Firefoxania, and radioed in for the 551st to begin to fly in. The fighters flew out, some of them just barely missing the soldiers below. The planes terrorized the local countryside, quickly both establishing air superiority in the region. Secure, the 12th Battalion began to construct a new base. This base, a temporary structure until the Engineers go through the portal, would become the base of operations for all future Hammer Britannian operations. Interestingly, the flag of Hammer Britannia was not present at this base. Instead, they only flew one flag - that of the CHALICE Alliance.

by **Eisenstern** » Fri Oct 14, 2022 4:14 am

【♜】The Tower【♜】
【Council Realms, The Brume】

GosT - Behemoth (Perturbator Remix)

⠀

Celena Notario, Seventh Councillor of Seven, reached down towards her desk and picked up the handset of an antique telephone. It was a work of art, built of delicately-engraved silver and ivory, and it perfectly matched her complexion. She was lounging atop a throne - one of many - in an expansive hall of her castle that she had built… to be honest, simply because she could. There were many such rooms. The Seventh Councillor had once found joy in constructing them, but then she had lost it. And now she was so very, dreadfully bored. But the phone was a spark of excitement, a potential avenue to entertain her. The phone could amount to something.

“Hullo. If you’re ringing this, you know-”

She stopped, and listened for a moment.

“Huh. Never thought it’d be you. Calling in the favour?”

Another few moments of silence saw her blank expression supplanted with one of mild bemusement.

“What, me? Personally? Hah, no. I don’t care about your little spat enough to bother. What novelty is there in this, for me? And besides, I set limits. This isn’t something you can request.”

The voice on the other end rambled on, until Celena herself interrupted it.

“Fine, fine, we can compromise. No, I won’t send the Thriceborn either. But- look, you need a vector, right? That’s it, that’s your criterion. Doesn’t have to be affiliated, you just want shit broken. Fine, we can do that. I can cook something up - I know a guy who’d actually love this gig. Right, mhm.”

There was annoyance in her voice, but her face gradually lit up with a smile. Anyone who knew her would hesitate to call this an improvement, and would in fact probably start worrying right around this point.

“Yeah, sure. You can have it right away. Mhm, alright. Yep. Toodles.”

With that, she set down the receiver, and rose from her seat. There were a number of distinctly un-bony clicks as she stretched, catlike. It sounded like she had vertebrae of glass.

“Right. This is doable, I guess. Ahem, I call upon-”

She frowned.

“Wait, this isn’t right. Shit, do I need to..? Ah, fine.”

Reaching into her cleavage, she withdrew a small felt bag. She undid the string holding it shut, and rather unceremoniously dumped a mound of sparkling white powder out onto one of the few uncrowded spaces on her desk. With her other hand, she drew out a small blue crystal, and promptly used it to shuffle the pile together into a more cohesive mass. Apparently satisfied, she stood back for a moment, before slamming her face directly into the pile. It vanished with a loud snorting sound - rising back up to her full height, she brushed the last few specks of powder from her nose, and promptly swallowed the crystal.

“Wasn’t I meant to smoke it? Whatever, this works. Now.”

Celena raised her hands up into the air, and the room responded. Small objects rose from the surfaces they had occupied, floating into the air as if borne aloft by invisible hands. The desk began to shudder and shake as the witch intoned; her voice was of ice, and of death.

”I call upon the demon Keg’dorath, Firstborn Shaman, Prince of Excess. I invoke his name, his being, and all that is beneath him - I draw from all the world’s indulgence, and the hubris of man. Eleventh tier magick-”

Lightning sparked between her fingers, raking arcs across the walls and floor. Somewhere, a bottle exploded. The grin on her face was manic, an expression that betrayed her utter inhumanity - it was the mark of an indulgence deeper than all of creation. Her next words were the roar of a tempest, the hammering of gods upon the fundament itself. They oozed with primal power, and the world bent to listen.

”SUMMON KETAMINE APE!”

【⬤】Firefoxania【⬤】
【Outskirts of Vaven】

Heaven Pierce Her - ORDER

⠀

It happened without warning.

A small suburban neighborhood, entirely spared from the brewing conflict. Its inhabitants, clueless of what was about to befall them - they had gone on with their lives, fearful of the future, but hopeful that lasting peace would come. And now, as the sky darkened and the air grew heavy with an indescribable, alien power, they were filled with an eerie feeling of dread. Of finality, in a way they could not describe. It built up like floodwaters behind a dam, to a breaking point that nobody could see coming. An eruption of light, of crackling force, immediately annihilating an entire street corner and most of the buildings around it, fusing concrete and asphalt into featureless black glass. Dozens of lives, extinguished in an instant - they were merely the beginning.

The thing that stood at the center of the blast zone, when the dust had finally cleared, was an ape. Or rather, some deranged lunatic’s hallucination of one - easily five meters tall, its size was further accentuated by the flattened wasteland pocket into which it had arrived. Its body was transparent, as if composed of pure congealed water, or perhaps a single flowing, unblemished diamond. Organs could be seen within - massed blood vessels, gleaming crimson, wreathing a massive heart. Its arms, colossal, serving as a second pair of legs, were wound about with a pair of crystalline serpents. Where its face should have been, there was only a gaping hole.

The creature looked around without eyes, sniffed without a nose. It had arrived with singular purpose - it was execution itself, immutable. The universe would bend to its will. It spoke to no one, and yet its words were directed to all.

”Ahh. Free at last. O Aurora… now dawns thy reckoning. And thy gore shall glisten before the temples of man!”

With a fluid, predatory grace, it moved from its site of arrival, and started its journey towards the city of Vaven proper.

Today was its day.

by **Firefoxania** » Fri Oct 14, 2022 6:40 am

OOC: Jesus I never expected this thread to blow up.

TRANSCRIPT: FRIDAY 14, 2022.

The Empress:
This is a broadcast to all of you who decided to take up arms against the rebellion. I am pleased to say that the Children have been pushed back into Eastern Vaven. This will be a mighty victory for Firefo-

BZZZZZZZZZZ.

As the radio transcript cut out, half of Central Vaven went completely dark. No backup power will be supplied until later this Saturday. The rebellion has gained a foothold in Eastern Vaven, turning it into an entire fortress known as the Eastern Stretch. It covered 13.5 miles (21 km), nearly half of the entire Berlin Wall. They were able to secure this foothold due to unrest in that region of Firefoxania, allowing the CoA to recruit members in EV (Eastern Vaven.) With the rise of militias steadily increasing, the entire military AND police force had to combine into one superbranch called The Capital Guard. They plan to move half of their troops near Eastern Vaven, entrenched in the Defense District, while the other half stayed in the Central Vaven capital building.

Complete darkness.
Silence.
Waiting...

by **Ignis States** » Fri Oct 14, 2022 9:31 am

Somewhere within the exosphere…
“Sir, are you sure about this?” The bridge of a rather non-descript Netkulykae carrier hovers over the planet. Specifically, it hovers over a country known as Firefoxania…
Two men stand at the bridge: An Akagaitan male in black and grey digital camouflage with a single silver bar on his rank tab, and a half-human, half-Tzakyuzan in the same type of uniform, but with two silver bars instead.

“Tribune, I was just ordered to bring my ship here by the Stratarch because…and I quote, ‘it’ll be fucking hilarious’.”
Upper Tribune Fletcher’s subordinate just…sits there, blinking. Ultimately, Lower Tribune Chang’E sighs.

“Just order the-“

“Order the Cataphracts to drop.” Chang’E pinches the bridge of his…nose, snout?…before his computerized contact flickers.
Orders to all Cataphracts: Drop!

Doors on the bottom of the NLS Europa slide open…just in time for thousands of drop pods to fall from the sky. Each one has a series of coordinates attached to it; All in all, they’re each aimed at strategic military locations, ranging from bases to industrial targets. The pods, as well, have a form of camouflage to prevent detection.

And as soon as they land, two 100 man Centuries each targeting around 50 military facilities. Each legionary is sporting sleek power armor equipped with energy shielding, designed to resist both energy and kinetic weaponry. Their rifles, however, are the truly scary part: Mizlrvekiza rifles thet fire beams of energy designed to disintegrate and transmute whatever matter they hit into a fragile, sandy material, effectively nullifying most magical, energy-based, and physical defenses.

Operation Chalice of Triumph has begun.

by **Firefoxania** » Fri Oct 14, 2022 9:53 am

.
.
.
Within the silence of the night, thousands of lights of anti-aircraft shot up into the sky at the incoming drop pods. With the rumble and roar of the flak cannons and the drop pods, it somehow managed to knock out all of the power in Central Vaven, leaving hundreds of thousands of Vulpixians without light. The flak only lasted for about a half an hour, before complete silence fell across Vaven territory. No engines roaring. No wildlife. Nothing. Just the lights of unknown entities across Vaven territory, waiting for the moment to strike...

by **Langong** » Fri Oct 14, 2022 11:09 am

~~deleted~~

by **Firefoxania** » Fri Oct 14, 2022 11:51 am

by **Ignis States** » Fri Oct 14, 2022 12:19 pm

Firefoxania wrote:.
.
.
Within the silence of the night, thousands of lights of anti-aircraft shot up into the sky at the incoming drop pods. With the rumble and roar of the flak cannons and the drop pods, it somehow managed to knock out all of the power in Central Vaven, leaving hundreds of thousands of Vulpixians without light. The flak only lasted for about a half an hour, before complete silence fell across Vaven territory. No engines roaring. No wildlife. Nothing. Just the lights of unknown entities across Vaven territory, waiting for the moment to strike...

The flak has a difficult time hitting the drop pods initially, due to the difficulty involved in detecting them, let alone hitting them.
But as soon as they enter the troposphere, less than 2 kilometers from the ground, the impacts begin.
Several drop pods are struck by the flak, approximately 50 out of the incoming 5,000. A majority of these are not outright destroyed, save for two. Rather, they’re simply knocked off course by a matter of miles.

The cataphracts that land in their destination, meanwhile, immediately take out their rifles. Over their helmet comms, their Cataphract Brigade Commander gives a single order: “Kill all enemy personnel”.
As soon as they register enemies, they begin to fire! Mizlrvekiza shots fly in the direction of the enemy with precise aim, aided by the software within both weapons and helmets.
The 96 Cataphracts who land off course, however…

“Centurion, where the fuck are we?” A human clad in full armor climbs forth from his burst-open pod. Rifle in hand, he listens closely to his comms. A gruff voice with a telltale Ignisian accent greets him in response.

“No clue, Legionary. Knocked off course, maintain communication with your squad, platoon, and century. Scout out the area, shoot to kill!”
Senior Legionary William Fisher silently lifts up his weapon before looking around. Wilderness, it seems…
95 other Cataphracts, spread out over 20 miles, find themselves in the same situation. All to do now is look for the enemy…

by **Firefoxania** » Fri Oct 14, 2022 12:45 pm

A small detachment of about 46 Capital Guardsmen named the 76th Vulpine Strike Force, located 64 miles away from Central Vaven, went to investigate the crash site.
.
.
.
The group encountered impact zones from the metal and drop pods falling from seemingly nowhere. They treaded lightly over the craters to located the source of them.

by **Polska Rzeczpospolita Robotnicza** » Fri Oct 14, 2022 1:16 pm

45th Fighter-Bomber Air Regiment
Within Firefoxanian airspace, 6000m altitude
Nearing Vaven City

OPERATION GROM 22
14/10/22
0400

Konieczny watched as his aircraft passed above the countryside below, rending the skies apart as it surged ahead on its path towards the designated target location. He thought to himself for a moment, bemused by the utter lack of radar detection thus far and entirely uncertain as to the capabilities of his new foe. Uncertainty. A feeling that he and many others considered worse than a kick in the balls, driving his mind into a frenzy of panic and self-correction; his aircraft and the familiarity of there being an Earth below were the only consistencies in this mission. His squadron followed behind him, spread out in a wedge to his left and right. Their aircraft streaked across the sky with an elegant grace, but he was sure this aptitude in flight merely masked the disconcertedness of his fellow pilots.

And there he spotted it, beyond the clouds and near the horizon, the city of Vaven itself - festering home of the Firefoxian creatures - truly a blight upon the face of the Earth. As the head of the lead squadron, he had a duty to report back to his regimental commander in order to prepare for the attack. He flicked his microphone on, conveying his confirmation to the others. The commander's headset crackled as Konieczny's words came through.

<<Visual contact with target, bearing 027.>>

There was no wait for the response, his commander's orders came through to the entire regiment with impetus and punctuality.

<<Copy that A-1. Maintain heading, weapon safeties off. Attack on my order.>>

With those words, Konieczny felt his skin crawl, knowing full well that his squadron could be entering into a trap along with the entire regiment. In compliance he prepared his weaponry, pylons hot and cannon loaded - formidable firepower if utilized correctly. With some luck, whatever other assets had been dispatched to the area would've surely dealt with or tied up enemy air defences. So he hoped anyway. He had never bargained on ever doing anything like this, but his allies needed assistance and his country demanded his confidence and success. His regiment shouldn't have even been within flight range of this perverse place, but yet here they were because of some unknowable fuckery, operating under the auspice of an association so esoteric that no mortal man could even remotely begin to comprehend the true mechanisms of its inner function.

If the enemy had a time to intercept their approach, it was now. But yet the RWR in Konieczny's MiG was eerily silent; no lights blinked nor sounds blared. The last stretch was within their sights after some 400 or so kilometres of flight, and though he may have had doubts about the plan he kept them to himself. He was a righteous servant of his country; he would never disgrace his people by disobeying his orders. Three squadrons of heavily armed airframes were a sight to behold in the skies above, but the true shock and awe was still to come. If this all went to plan, Firefoxania would never again be able to threaten the existence of the human race through its repugnant practices. Total devastation awaited.

by **Ignis States** » Fri Oct 14, 2022 1:21 pm

At the drop site...

Fisher's helmet begins to pick up heat signatures at around 500 meters away. Immediately, he shoulders his rifle before flicking off the safety. What're these bastards like?
"This is Fisher! Squad Delta, Platoon 2! Contact detected, potential enemy forces!" The signal broadcasts to all soldiers within his Century. In time...

"Contact spotted!" broadcasts within his helmet before shutting off. Time to hope they're doing their job correctly...Fisher dives behind the wreckage of his pod as soon as the heat signatures get closer.
The instant the heat signatures get past the 200 meters range, he doesn't hesitate; With a pull of the trigger, beams of white light leave the barrel of his black-and-gold rifle. An outline of black energy flickers around each beam that releases as he holds down the trigger, like one pulse transitions into another...and another, and another.

Each shot is aimed at a silhouette, all generally targeting center mass. As the detachment of the 76th Vulpine Strike Force advances forward, multiple members of Century 6 begin to fire upon the investigating soldiers.

Western Vaven

"You know, they look a lot like us, Sergeant!" In the middle of an engagement with militia forces, a 10-man squad fires upon their defending enemy with skilled, determined trigger pull after trigger pull. The leader of the squad listens to the comment from one of his enlisted men without stopping or slowing.

"Cheap imitations, Legionary. They sure as hell look like you and me, but look at the eyes. Look at the lack of magic. Far from us." Sergeant Taemte quickly shifts his gaze over to a Vulpixan militiamen, who takes careful aim with his rifle...

The kinetic round bounces off his energy shields before it can even hit his helmet; When Taemte raises his rifle to gun him down, an NCO from an entirely different squad aims his index and middle fingers from hundreds of yards away.
A bright blue bolt of electricity explodes from his fingertips before striking the poor infantryman right in the side of his chest; In an instant, he's left a smoking, charred heap.

"We can do that, they can't!"
All across the landing sites, this general scene plays out a thousand times...

by **Polish Prussian Commonwealth** » Fri Oct 14, 2022 2:52 pm

The Tatra Sejm - Mt. Rysy - 2 months prior
Ogniem i mieczem - Pan Onufry Zagłoba

A loud boom revebrerated through the air of the ancient chambers as a young man burst through the doors, panting as he did so. "News!" he cried. "The King calls for men!"

Two-hundred ancient eyes fixed upon the young officer. Two-hundred rose, and one among them spoke. A tall nature-spirit came forward, her cuirass clinking slightly as she approached the herald. "Calm yourself, boy." she grunted. "What does His Majesty require?"

"Firefoxania, Marshal Ryszana-" the herald gasped. "They've found them."

For a brief moment, the air seemed to chill. "I have never heard of this land." she said at last, though her eyes narrowed. "But if what you say is true, we shall answer. Has His Majesty provided proof?"

"Yes, Marshal, right here-" He fumbled slightly, and pulled a thick packet of red-inked and stamped papers, offering it to her. "This is all I could carry for now, but His Majesty is willing to provide more as requested.

"I see." She glanced down at the paper, taking it. Her eyes raced across the writing, widening more and more as she took in more and more. Her fingers shook, and finally, she looked up. "I see." she repeated in a quiet whisper. "I shall...send this to the Commitee on Vigilance, and they will deliberate before the day is out. You are...dismissed. Thank you."

OOC: I'm falling a bit behind so I hope you don't mind me rushing things along a little -- Pave Lows are designed to rapidly and stealthily insert small groups of troops anyway, so I hope you do not mind me assuming that, when used in combination of nape-of-the-earth flight, they can avoid air defenses and the like.

Firefoxania, Western Vaven - Host of Rabka-Zdrój, initial landing force - Present Day
Hostile Illusion - Escape from Tarkov OST

Amid the dark night, a hidden ally moved to aid the Ignase.

A small collection of Pave Low helicopters took off from the ORP Jadwiga of Poland. They swept through the air, flew low, and after a long while settled down in a field, disgorging a small force of light infantry, 36 strong. The platoon moved quickly and quietly through Western Vaven, avoiding the enemy where they could, ventilating them from afar where they couldn't, and noting down communications, power infrastructure, and encampments/fortifications.

As they approached the landing-zone of the drop pods, the Cataphract Commander would find his radio crackling.

"Oi, oi, is this on? This is Marcin Wrocimowic, Knight of the Tatras, commander of the Host of Rabka-Zdrój. Uh...I've got a small landing force near your position right now -- do you need any skulls cracked or have you seen an airfield we can steal?"

by **Ignis States** » Fri Oct 14, 2022 3:14 pm

Polish Prussian Commonwealth wrote:The Tatra Sejm - Mt. Rysy - 2 months prior
Ogniem i mieczem - Pan Onufry Zagłoba

A loud boom revebrerated through the air of the ancient chambers as a young man burst through the doors, panting as he did so. "News!" he cried. "The King calls for men!"

Two-hundred ancient eyes fixed upon the young officer. Two-hundred rose, and one among them spoke. A tall nature-spirit came forward, her cuirass clinking slightly as she approached the herald. "Calm yourself, boy." she grunted. "What does His Majesty require?"

"Firefoxania, Marshal Ryszana-" the herald gasped. "They've found them."

For a brief moment, the air seemed to chill. "I have never heard of this land." she said at last, though her eyes narrowed. "But if what you say is true, we shall answer. Has His Majesty provided proof?"

"Yes, Marshal, right here-" He fumbled slightly, and pulled a thick packet of red-inked and stamped papers, offering it to her. "This is all I could carry for now, but His Majesty is willing to provide more as requested.

"I see." She glanced down at the paper, taking it. Her eyes raced across the writing, widening more and more as she took in more and more. Her fingers shook, and finally, she looked up. "I see." she repeated in a quiet whisper. "I shall...send this to the Commitee on Vigilance, and they will deliberate before the day is out. You are...dismissed. Thank you."

OOC: I'm falling a bit behind so I hope you don't mind me rushing things along a little -- Pave Lows are designed to rapidly and stealthily insert small groups of troops anyway, so I hope you do not mind me assuming that, when used in combination of nape-of-the-earth flight, they can avoid air defenses and the like.

Firefoxania, Western Vaven - Host of Rabka-Zdrój, initial landing force - Present Day
Hostile Illusion - Escape from Tarkov OST

Amid the dark night, a hidden ally moved to aid the Ignase.

A small collection of Pave Low helicopters took off from the ORP Jadwiga of Poland. They swept through the air, flew low, and after a long while settled down in a field, disgorging a small force of light infantry, 36 strong. The platoon moved quickly and quietly through Western Vaven, avoiding the enemy where they could, ventilating them from afar where they couldn't, and noting down communications, power infrastructure, and encampments/fortifications.

As they approached the landing-zone of the drop pods, the Cataphract Commander would find his radio crackling.

"Oi, oi, is this on? This is Marcin Wrocimowic, Knight of the Tatras, commander of the Host of Rabka-Zdrój. Uh...I've got a small landing force near your position right now -- do you need any skulls cracked or have you seen an airfield we can steal?"

Drop Pod Site Alpha. Western Vaven

Standing in a plastic and metal structure about the size of a large tent, over a newly set up command console, is a curious looking individual. Wearing the trademark collared, faded scarlet shirt of a Ketelykae service uniform, Lieutenant Muklr Sitiruz listens to the audio being transmitted from a chip inserted in his ear.
From a distance, he could be compared to an Ignisian. But it's the up-close details that hint at a mixed heritage: His fur is evenly split between black and white, complete with one black spot over his right eye. His ears still stand straight up, but with a generally rounder, wider shape. The real difference lies in his tail, which is a short tuft about a third of the length of most Ignisian tails.

On his collar are three connected golden bars for each collar point.

"Lieutenant Muklr Sitiruz, Expeditionary Brigade. Small landing force...Tell you what. Drop down here and you can scout ahead with some of our own recon units. Fan out in all directions, take whatever targets aren't heavily fortified, report back to command on the targets that are, etcetera. Does that sit right with you?"

by **Elysian Treaty Organization** » Fri Oct 14, 2022 7:18 pm

Captain Matt Garner watched as 7 blue holes slowly grew in size, the portals to another plane of existence easily mistakable for black-holes. 7 ships roared into existence, the dark and angular ships crawling with assorted weapons mounts and a intimidating "maw", the home to the main weapon of the ships. The rest of the fleet joined the small recon element, thanks to the FTL coordinates the single frigate had transmitted through comms a hour before. They lazily orbited a single blue planet, the ships holding position for the single order to execute Operation Chancellors Dagger. Chancellors Dagger was an operation to behead the barbaric Firefoxanian Government through the liberal application of overwhelming force.

In Matt's view, the Firefoxanian government was an utterly barbaric foe. The intel reports he read noted that the government used some sort of "breeding gas", which made him sick with the implications of the accusation. They had to defang and purge this inhumane government from the universe, unless they be allowed to fester and expand. HICOM had ordered to not happen by any means possible. The barbarians had to be stopped.

A single lased message popped up on his console, the contents of which almost had him whoop in excitement.

<<OPORDER CHANCELLORS DAGGER CHALICE, CHALICE, CHALICE.>>

Matt slammed down on the general quarters button, allowing his voice to run through the entire ship with ease. "General Quarters, General Quarters. Execution order given, prepare for immediate combat. I repeat, general quarters, general quarters, general quarters. This is not a drill." His message fizzled out, allowing the distinctive klaxons to ring throughout the ship as sailors ran to their stations. Landeers locked down airlock after airlock as sailors manned fire-suppression stations, preparing for the impossible. The steel boots of officers stamped throughout the ship as he clicked his crash gear in place, the officers taking up positions within the internal bridge of the ship. His stomach started to churn as the ship descended into atmosphere. He couldn't suppress the feeling of stress, despite the fact that military intelligence had noted that the Firefoxans posed no threat to the formidable fleet deployed. It was a point of contention within the senate that a entire ECG was being deployed to fight against mere primitives, but footage of the breeding chambers and the final objective of the Firefoxan state shut up all opposition.

The ETS Danerville roared to life, descending into the atmosphere as it approached its objectives. The rest of the fleet followed it, the blue plumes of maneuvering engines lighting up atmosphere. The Danerville's heat shields flared up as it slowly descended in-atmo. The other ships of the fleets were barely visible at this range, with the slew of collision lights being the only thing giving their positions away.

A single order was lased to his ship - their objectives.
<<ETS Liberation of Afana will support the remmants of Rumei and their beachhead in the west. Precise location not known, use IFF transponders to find them. ETS Danerville will support the Polish Commonwealth. MACs and RKVs are forbidden. The rest of the fleet will move to deliver multiple Expeditionary brigades ground-side.>>

His sensors officer sent an affirm as the ship roared towards an uncertain future. While the fleet descended, the ETS Skrimisher sent a high-powered radio message to all friendly forces. It was simple, but communicated that the war would change in a major manner.

<<To all friendly forces in the nation of Firefoxania. Light orbital will be available within a few hours. The ETS Liberation of Afana and Danerville have been tasked to support your forces, with Elysian brigades landing groundside once we get locations of LZs. Please transmit coordinates for any flat location larger than 0.75 klicks. We need 5 of them.>>

by **The Dark Domain** » Fri Oct 14, 2022 8:02 pm

In the space over Firefoxania a pair of massive rectangular blocks of black stone, studded with runes, hatches and clusters of crystals lumbered into place In space over Firefoxania

In the sanctum of the Monolith Oblivion Mage-Captain Deranis Vil shifted on his throne and gestured at the wall of white crystal opposite, it instantly cleared into the black-robed image of the Mage-Captain of the Eternity

"Why are you here Avon" snarled the orange-robed Conjurer "did Xodalf truly think that The Conjuration School would need your help opening a Hellgate?"

The Necromancer shrugged and leant back in his own throne "clearly there was a failure in communication, we were sent to release a Necromantic Plague"

"Well clearly we can't do both, we will be swamped with undead Outsiders" Deranis Vil scowled "if we ask for clarification, by the time The Council comes to consensus the war will probably be over and we will have failed our obligation"

Avon leant forward on his throne and produced a large gold coin "flip you for it"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Five minutes later

On the main street of Firefoxia's capital city there was a burst of displaced air and thirty knights in armor and ten orange-robed Magi appeared

Immediately the knights locked shields and a dome of force burst into being, protecting the Magi as they began to draw runes in blood and place crystals at carefully measured points in the circle

One Mage nudged the one working next to him, his twin brother "Xanthion, did anyone ever tell us why we're unleashing the hordes of hell onto these people?"

"Chalice, Zethus, Chalice" came the reply

"AH, I see"

With a burst of Hellfire and the scream of ten thousand tortured souls reality tore and a gate a hundred metres high burst into existence, vomiting an unending tide of screaming Demons, Devils and Daemons onto the city, slaying, consuming and destroying everything in sight

A few hundred feet down the street a small convoy of tanker trucks was overtaken and breached, releasing a purple gas into the air

Zethus nudged his brother "what's that?"

Xanthion cast a simple divination "apparently it's some kind of 'breeding gas'"

"so we just-" began Zethus

"Imbued the Hordes of Hell with an overpowering mating urge, yes" finished Xanthion

The twins glanced at each other then the entire Domain force teleported away, leaving the Hellgate to continue spewing horror

by **Langong** » Sat Oct 15, 2022 11:30 am

~~deleted~~

by **Hallownest Eternal** » Sat Oct 15, 2022 9:10 pm

PRELUDE /// Come, Wayward Souls

-{The Pale King, God of Higher Thought}-

A stirring.
The vast mind of a vaster creature stretched and unfurled, uncoiling as it began to shift, a thousand-thousand prismatic reflections of uncertain futures flickering through its un-vision. Images of a strange, smug-faced man holding a goblet of white liquid. Of countless entities pledging allegiance to this creature...no, to an emblem of this creature...twice stricken down, twice risen again. A third rising, helmed by the Crown of Hallownest. The mind curled, folding and twisting as it began to pull at the fabric of the irreality it inhabited, sending a call, a Dream, an Omen to the far reaches of the Cosmos, and feeling the answers start to flood in. Contented, the great being began to curl in on itself, spiraling ever inward as it began to return to the puppet it called Form.

The Pale King slowly returned to lucidity as he pored over a set of documents at his desk. Idly, he scratched signatures with one claw, the many-horned God-King's Focus lying elsewhere as feedback from The Dream began to filter through his subconscious. Idly setting aside a document on excavation approval, he stood, gliding to a far corner of his study as he began to draw a symbol of glimmering white light, binding a seal of silk-scroll in it before dismissing it with a clap, the missive relayed through an immense warping of space to the office of his Clergy. This could be entrusted to them. Turning, he returned to his desk, picking up the document he had discarded. After some examination, he detected the flaws, corrected them, and idly cast it aside to be returned to its senders to be re-considered. The clock on his desk chimed, informing him that it was the end of his assigned duties for the Day, and he stood, making nary a sound as he demanifested from the Study, appearing elsewhere in his Palace to enjoy the evening with his Wife and Children.

~~~~

-{Coroor, Cleric of the Pale King}-

The sturdy Beetle hefted a crate of stone tablets over his shoulder, grunting somewhat at the effort as he joined another group of Clerics. The entire Chapter was abuzz with activity, having been gifted such an enormous task by the King Himself. To deliver aid, and bring new peoples to the Eternal Kingdom...it was no small task, and given these peoples were from another world entirely...! The Chapter was reasonably excited.

Worship of His Eternal Majesty was quite loose, as He had no need for the Devotional Energy of mortals, meaning that there were no proper sermons, simply small prayers and the handling of Idols to hopefully influence Fortune in their favor. The King had elaborated on the general situation of their locale of arrival, and it was...certainly quite unpleasant. Their 'allies' were causing immense damage, and the Chapter's duty was to provide aid and, where requested, bring people from this damaged world to the Eternal Kingdom. Contingents of Royal Guards stood idly, heavyset beetles, lithe dragonflies, and everything in between sharpening weapons and commenting on how they were finally seeing action. Setting his crate of Tablets on a nearby cart, Coroor settled with the Clerics of his particular creche, chatting and speculating on what exactly they would find.

The room went silent when the Great Knight entered.

She moved with haunting elegance, double-pair of antennae trailing behind her like silver wire. Her flowery cloak flowed about her like a living thing, the immense nail strapped to her back in stark contrast to her seeming fragility. Her faceless, flat mask betraying her blindness yet all-too-keen senses. Ze'mer. The Mysterious. The 5th Great Knight of The Pale King. And, more controversially, Lover of a Mantis.

The Kingdom-rocking Scandal that had arisen when it was discovered she was in courtship with a daughter of one of the Mantis Tribe's Lords was nigh-unprecedented, if only for the geopolitical tensions surrounding the two nations. The only worse affairs were where actual lives had been lost, such as with the discovery of illicit Noble circles funding the Colosseum of Fools, or the discovery of the Soul Sanctum's depraved practices. Yet, the Great Knight had not been stripped of her titles. Her deeds had far outweighed the burden of love, even if controversial. She had retreated to her estate in the Resting Grounds, living in seclusion ever since, rarely emerging to perform funerary practices and spiritual communes.

But now she had returned. And evidently, to provide protection against the threats of this foreign World.

The Royal Guards snapped to attention, briskly saluting the Knight as she passed them, gliding towards the Chapter Leader.

"Is le'mer's kin prepared?" She murmured, her voice sonorous and melodic, carrying elegant tones that belied a hidden sadness. The Chapter's Leader, a tall butterfly named Jalesen, bowed briefly, before responding. "Aye, Ser Knight. We've prepared the appropriate supplies. All that remains now is the opening of The Gate."
"Che' sees. Very well, ready le'mer's kin for the Journey." The Knight said, striding forward to a far wall. Several mages among the Clerics detached from their huddles, taking positions along her sides as they began to Focus, channeling Soul and Essence to bend to their will as a spiraling pattern began to manifest on the wall, filling the Cathedral with more light than it already had...

When The Gate fully formed, the first wave of Royal Guards strode through, Ze'mer included, and the Clergy of The Pale King entered a new World.

~~~~

-{Eastern Vaven, Foxania}-

People were afraid.

Beyond the revolutions, beyond the kidnappings by shadowy black ops, the soldiers raining from the sky, the rampaging ethereal primate and the most recent arrival of a tear into Hell itself, many civilians in Vaven wanted to leave, to escape, or worse were caught in the fighting and injured, killed. In this chaos the Eastern quarter of Vaven remained somewhat spared from the fighting, a shelter for people seeking egress from the Capital or shelter from the rain of soldiers in the countryside. With their Empress buried in her bunker, the Children of Athena nowhere to be found, and, of course, the neverending tide of Demons, Drug-fueled Apes, and orbital soldier drops, the situation seemed...grim, to say the least.

Until the Ones in White came.

They were a strange folk, of all shapes and sizes. Gaunt, seemingly insectile, they spoke in strange voices and wore stranger garbs, flowing white robes and an ivory mask. Certainly, they were met with apprehension, with fear, but they remained peaceful, with no weapons on their person. It was when their powers were discovered that they were welcomed wholeheartedly. With a mere touch, they could heal even the most grievous of wounds, brilliant pale silver light flowing around them. Their power had limits, yes, but they manifested in relief camps, providing aid and consolation, before vanishing to visit a new place. Eventually, they revealed their 'headquarters', a large library left empty by the war, and dozens flocked, in hopes of receiving aid.

It was there that the Ones in White described their nature, and their purpose. They were the followers of a Higher Being, themselves from another World, known as "The Pale King". A God. Their duty was to provide aid to the sick and wounded, destitute and starving, and if necessary, offer...relocation, from this world to the World of their origin. To an Eternal Kingdom. Hallownest. Many eagerly accepted, daring to risk an unknown frontier over the horrors this civil war had wrought, and they were escorted to the means by which the Ones in White came to this World, and passed through, traveling to the Eternal Kingdom.

Yet, relief and evacuation were not the only services the Ones in White provided. One notable incident was that of a contingent of demons, detached from the main horde and seeking suitable...partners, wandering into Eastern Vaven. The civilians had no means of defense beyond improvised weapons, but the potential horrors of the demonic incursion were cut short in a blur of white and the singing of metal, the dust clearing to reveal the cleanly-dismantled demons, and at the center of it a towering warrior. She was elegant but practiced, fragile yet strong. Her attire and build slim and decorative, while her blade was hefty and seemingly cumbersome, but twirled around her with the lightness of a feather. She spoke in a stranger, more elegant tongue than the other Ones in White, but had introduced herself as a Knight of the Pale King. One of his personal cohort of protectors. Her elegance in manner and strength of wit, alongside her overwhelming compassion, quickly ingratiated her to the people of East Vaven, and the rate of evacuees to the Library Gate increased, not a flood of refugees, but perhaps five or so a day, families, that would come to the gates of the Ones in White's stronghold, seeking passage to the Eternal Kingdom. The vast majority, however, sought passage out of the Capital, or hunkered down to wait out the war.