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Into Cold Darkness [Semi-Open]

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
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Automagfreek
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Into Cold Darkness [Semi-Open]

Postby Automagfreek » Thu Dec 01, 2011 2:53 pm

OOC: No posting will be permitted unless permission to join is granted in the OOC thread. This thread is primarily between Gholgoth and the pony factions.

*****************************************

The stone statue of Beherit had stood tall and proud within his ancient shrine at the Kra'gna necropolis for ten thousand years, weathering war, natural disaster, and the decay of time. Some forty feet in height, the massive centaur God of the Dead cast an ominous shadow over the resting place of the High Priests of the Vaalar, his imposing form rearing up and thrusting his spear downward with an eternal look of hatred upon his face. He was the God who commanded the lesser deities, though no less revered in Freekish culture; Eurynome, the Corpse God. Karnon, God of Darkness, and so on.

Some said that Damien Dreadfire, Supreme Warlord of the Freekish Empire, spoke to Beherit personally and on frequent occasion. Though largely hearsay, many would not put such an accusation past one as inherently evil and, as others say, mad as he. It was on the eve of the conclusion of the Bloodlust festival where pagan Freeks payed homage the dead and in many places, feasted with their departed ancestors, that Damien made his customary trip to Kra'gna. He had always made it a point to offer his prayers and thanks to the Gods that did not forsake him during this sacred time, for the boundaries between the realms of the living and the dead were diminished, albeit briefly.

Kneeling before the holy statue, Damien first offered forth a basket of fruits and raw meat, then a verse of prayers in the old Freekish tongues. With eyes closed and arms outstretched, he began reciting the incantations which would summon the essence of his God, the words rolling from his mouth like water on rock. It was when the harvest moon was highest in the sky that Dreadfire began to feel the power of Beherit emanating from the statue, his skin then growing cold and the hairs on his neck rising. He could feel the presence of a being not of this world, but alas the encounter was anti-climatic as no entity manifested, nor did any vision enter his mind.

After concluding his ritualistic prayers, Damien stood and began to start off towards the arched entrance of Kra'gna, when a sharp pain and sensation of fire bore deep into his mind, dropping the burly Lord to his knees. With fingers clasped against his skull in pain, his head turned slowly to the statue, which in his blurred and distorted vision appeared to be expelling flames from its eyes. A vision filled his mind...

Orange skies oversaw a field once lush and green, now tinged in red. The broken bodies of man and horsefolk strew the plain as black smoke rose from the twisted remnants of vehicles and shelter alike. In the distance the sound of clacking chains echoed throughout the now quiet battlefield, and the shackles bore the defeated and battered horse-creatures who were being marched under arms towards what could only be described as a mammoth furnace. Those who entered did not leave, and the smoke stacks of the incinerator belched its delight as flesh was turned to carbon. A deep, distorted voice rang out over it all, commanding the destruction of the light, and death to those who would spread it.

And then in an instant, it all disappeared, and Damien found himself laying on the stone floor of the shrine where he last found himself. He had not received such a startling vision for many years, and this was a sign most obvious that the God of Dead demanded sacrifice. Damien knew that Beherit's eye had befallen a race long isolated from the realm of men, those known to the Freeks as the horsefolk, or "ponies" as they were known elsewhere. This race of beings stood for everything that Dreadfire had come to detest, and the spreading of the light, of goodness and love, was as poison to him and flew in the face of everything his centaur God stood for. The mere mention of such things sickened him like a foul odor, and now his master had demanded a bloodletting of the unworthy, a sacrifice to be trampled under his hoof of war, darkness, and despair.

Back at the Great Hall, Damien had begun mulling over documents, maps, and dossiers he had requested from his generals who had gathered upon request. Long had the realm of men stood victorious over the hordes of lesser folk, of orcs and elves, of creatures both humanoid and not. But the pony hordes had grown like a cancer, spreading their vile blasphemies unchecked and unchallenged by a serious foe as of yet, a problem that Damien knew must be remedied. He could not allow the spread of such heresy by beings whom he saw as unworthy to inhabit the realm of men, a realm he saw as rightfully that of the Goths.

It would be a shame to discard them outright, ponies could perhaps be an excellent resource. Horseflesh, glues, and fine oils could be extracted and sold for profit, keeping our war chest well stocked. Suggested Marv Bonesplitter, who sat at the head of the War Ministry. This idea piqued Damien's interest, for he knew that a conflict against an entire race of beings was not something that could be won in a single campaign. Such an endeavor would likely take a generation or two, and require a series of engagements before a conclusion was to come about.

A bold idea, one that serves many a purpose. Perhaps a new industry may even come about from such a campaign, one that could help pay for our efforts to stamp out this menace. Damien was intrigued, and it would be quite easy to seek out the expertise of the Ralkovian slave traders in acquiring hordes of ponies to be turned into resources in the fires of industry. Contact the Ralkovian embassy, pitch them the idea and see if they are interested. Also put out the word to privateers and the other Gothic Lords, perhaps there are others who wish to cash in on this new initiative.
Last edited by Automagfreek on Thu Dec 01, 2011 3:01 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Crimmond
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Ex-Nation

Postby Crimmond » Thu Dec 01, 2011 3:45 pm

The private message sent to the Lords of Gholgoth from Damien reached Empress Mobuto in the early morning hours. The incessant buzzing from her computer terminal forced her to climb out of bed and cross her chambers to the computer. It was the same chamber that had served the sovereigns of Crimmond for centuries and was lavish and soft, having been built for a ruling class and not a woman such as herself... who was the polar opposite of the ruling class, though she was head of an Imperial House.

Reading the message, she smirked. "We're going to attack the horse nations? What are we, Baggerans chasing after cat people?" She sighs and turns away from the screen and starts back to bed, when she feels a chill over her bare skin, having not bothered to cover herself in her private chambers. She turns towards the large windows to find them closed. She looks around for the source of the cold air, realizing that it was cold and humid, as a mist slowly filled the room. Reaching into a drawer and drawing her service pistol, she eyes the room warily.

Baggerans wanted slaves for mines and companions for beds. The Destroyer is working for a more noble purpose...

Ursala flinched at the rumbling voice and could not locate the source. "Who are you? And how did you get-"

I am Gar... the Executioner. The voice answered and a form stepped from the mist. A male figure nearly seven and a half feet tall, covered in gnarled armor that was decorated with human bones and draped heavily with seaweed and plant material. He carried a scythe, but was holding it off to the side, nonthreateningly. "And I have come to tell you to follow Damien into the fire and to ensure he succeeds."

The Empress lowered her weapon. She knew of the Executioner and had even been in his presence once, two decades beforehand. "And you had to speak to me now? You couldn't have waited until sun up... or at least until I wasn't nude?" She demanded, while she reached for a silk robe and wrapped herself in it. "Or did you just want a free show?"

Gar chuckled. It was not a pleasant sound. "Such desires died in me many centuries before your birth, human. You must make preparations now, as this quest will be as massive as the crusades of old." He stated, as the mists in the room faded and only remained within a foot or so of his feet.

"How do you know what Damien is doing this for?" Ursala asked, motioning to the computer. "I only learned of this now and it was a direct message from Damien's council."

"He was spoken to directly by an elder creature. Beherit , their god of Death... he gave Damien this quest and demands it's completion. You think that such a communication between that realm and this one would not go unnoticed by those such as myself? I am the defender of Vrun Dryath... these lands you name Gholgoth. Any such incident is my business to investigate... I was granted an audience, however brief, with Beherit and was informed of Damien's quest. I have agreed to assist him and so shall you. Your Empire is weakening with age and this conflict will strengthen it. Do what you must do... become the Empress you were meant to become." he syayes, as the mists swirl around him.

And never again doubt the reality of Gods and Demons, mortal... for we exist and we are dangerous when slighted. As these intelligent equines shall soon discover.

And then the Empress was alone again. "Fucking hell... another war." Mobuto muttered and crossed back to her computer and sat at it, typing a reply, sent to the private account of Damien himself.

----

Damien,

I know why you are starting this quest. The centaur god you're so fond of has decided he's tired of the horse nations. How do I know? Our mutual acquaintance Gar the Executioner just payed me a visit in my private chambers... not exactly how I was expecting to be dressed when meeting such a being. He explained that this is not just a quest for territory and slave labor or any such trivial concerns, but a matter of religion and principle.

Your forces shall be bolstered by my own... and by the Executioner, apparently.

To quote the first Emperor: To have mercy on an enemy is to always have an enemy. Let not one survive.

-Ursala
Being More Awesome Than You Since March 26, 2003.

Third Founding Lord of Gholgoth

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The Naacal
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The Naacal » Fri Dec 02, 2011 12:34 pm

Foothills of Mount Anara.
Naacal Empire.


Excavation crews were working round the clock, uncovering something that had lain at rest for over two hundred years. While that was a small time compared to some... things in Naacal history this excavation was driven by purpose. Most things from the past were allowed to, prefered to, remain buried. But the recent action in Varathron did not allow such luxuries, so the crews and their machinery worked day and night on their monumental task.

The Imperial Pyramid
City of Alythren-Naras
Naacal Empire


Lerian XII, Emperor of the Naacal, Master of the Naacal Way, and holder of Enrial's Legacy, was tired. It had been an exhausting day. Planning the action against Azrael's Belphegorian forces, Since the enemy had deployed contragravity ships, all efforts had gone into getting the last of the ancient warships back into action, but the proceedure took so long... But for now Lerian XII slept, and his mind dreamed...if that was even the word, of strange things.

He saw hordes of what seemed to be cavalry, swarming over the Gothic lands. He saw Adraniel's Shadow firing its ancient weapon systems into the hordes. But while the horse fell, there were no horsemen. Lerian realised that these were not cavalry at all, but rather some form of odd non-human life. Waging war for the sake of peace.

Abomination. he thought to himself. Peace and friendship for all? What kind of sick joke is this? Not even Adraniel would put up with these animals... In that you are correct, Lerian. Lerian looked over to the 'sound' of the voice. A figure of beauty stood there, thigh-length black hair blowing in an etherial wind, eyes softly slowing amber. I was in the neighborhood, and decided to stop in and see how you were doing.

Lerian smiled. A Pleasant surprise indeed. What brings you to our pleasnt little land? Some...business in Abruzi. They seem to have adapted to some of our ways, digging up things that are better left buried. But while I am here, could you use any help with the Varathron situation? The being's voice semed to resonate with Lerian's very soul. Lerian smiled, No, I think we can handle the situation. But frankly I am concerned more about these...beings I sensed. Are we under attack from the other realms? I sensed nothing of that level...

Laughing, the man....for that is what he seemed to be, though as with all of the Mu it was sometimes difficult to tell genders apart, and reached out to lightly touch Lerian's shoulder. No... they are from this world, albeit having... non-conventional abilities. I can already sense in you mind...in your soul, what you wish to do, and want to say I support you in all things, as does our Third...

A smile came to Lerian's face. Extermination has never been a big thing with you...what changed now? The man laughed. I seek peace among all humans, True. And maybe a few other species... but horses? The fact that a non-human power would seek to impose anything on us, indeed on any humans, is an affront to all we hold dear. So slaughter them, Lerian. Remove them from this and any other world you find them!

Lerian approached the figure and the two embraced. Not as lovers, not as brothers, but in a way closer then either of those. Parting, the two looked at each other and as the figure began to fade away, Lerian said quietly Until we next meet, Anais.

Waking with a feeling of contentment, thoughts of grim purpose ran through Lerian's mind as he got up and got dressed. Morning already, I forgot what Communion was like. This 'time' shit takes getting used to. When dressed, he made his way down to the Imperial Pyramid's main situation room. The duty crew came to attention, and the senior watch officer came over with a sheet detailing the latest news from the Varathron battlefronts. And a second one, a message from Lord Dreadfire of the Freekish Empire.

Looking The first over, Lerian also looked at the room's main display table, hich showed the positions of all Gothic and Belphegorian forces. Looking over the second, Lerian thought to himself Damien Dreadfire may well have been inspired in the same way I was... Regardless, this bears dealing with. Then he spoke. "Attention everyone. New matters have come to our attention." slipping a small crystal into a special adapter on the display table's control console, the display shut down, and was replaced by a holographic world globe. Certain countries were highlighted in a lurid pink light.

"Begging your pardon, Majesty..." came the voice of the Watch Officer, Captain Merelen. "But what exactly are we looking at?" Lerian gave a small chuckle. "Nations ruled by non-human equine life, with non-convetional abilities. And no, this is not a joke. Non-conventional abilities combined with the sickening attitude and philosophy most of these 'nations' have, makes them in some ways a greater threat then Azrael."

"A greater... How, Emperor?" Merelen spoke. Lerian looked around the room as he explained. "Azrael sees things as we do, in terms of military power, national and personal Will... But these... creatures? They believe that they can impose not only their government, but their sickening way of life on all others. And possessed as they are of non-conventional abilities, they are capable of enforcing their beliefs on others, making a mockery of free will. With this in mind, I think we will be doing a favor to all human life on this world by removing them from the tapestry of reality." The various personel nodded. "Make no mistake though, the Varathron situation shall remain our primary theatre of operations. We can consider this more of a...hunting expedition." Lerian smiled as the room broke out in sardonic laughter. "Get me strategic and tactical plans, And have Imperial Intelligence select a choice target." Men and women started moving to various terminals and control boards, signalling the various apperati of the Empire to start them into motion at their Emperor's command, the taste of upcoming violence growing in all within the room.

"Lord Damien Dreadfire has announced that the Freekish Empire will be engaging these...things. It is my fullest intention that we shall do our part to ensure that the Purity of our world is maintained." Lerian said, to the nodding approval of all in the room.

Several of the Naacal Ministers, summoned by Imperial order, started to file into the room. Seeing the Minister of Energy, Lyren, Emperor Lerian went over to him. "Ah, Minister Lyren. I was wondering something." Minister Lyren saluted, and then said "What, your Majesty?" Lerian smiled, a dark sinister smile. "Could standard deploymerization units be adapted to produce glue?" Lyren thought it over. "Easily, Majesty. But the problem is not so much with the technology, it is with the 'resources'. For this to work you would need something like horses, not humans or ordinary organic waste."

Lerian's smile deepened as he showed Minister Lyren the display and the datalines under each pink-glowing nation. "Problem solved then. And so will begin Saint Elmer's Crusade. These equines shall be the Glue which binds all life together..."

The room erupted in laughter.
Last edited by The Naacal on Tue Dec 06, 2011 9:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Kylarnatia
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Postby Kylarnatia » Fri Dec 02, 2011 2:57 pm

The Fangthane, Ancient Capital of Krytopia
The Ancient Empire of Kylarnatia, Gholgoth
1:30pm Local Time


It was past midday, and prayers were to be made. The newly built complex known as the Fangthane or Fangthane Palace replaced the much older Winter Palace which still stood but was no longer the seat of the Caesar of the Imperium who used it not only as a residence but seat of power. This new monster of a building stretched out across the skyline and engulfed everything around it and behind it in a view of gold and purple, and of the grey bricks that rose from the foundations. A huge glass dome at the center of the complex gave a stage for the midday sunlight to dance. It was a glorious sight.

Tsarina Silvier IV, Caesar of the Imperium liked her new home. It was much more bigger, much more powerful; more dominant. Such as a seat of power should be. Walking through its wide halls which had paintings on every free space, some depicting monarchs others depicting proud moments in history, the Tsarina's footsteps echoed. Artifical light took over from natural after some time of walking, passing through many doors and into blacked out corridors. Apart of the new palace was a small chapel for the Tsarina to say her prayers to the Grand Mother - Silvier the First. The walls continued to dance with the colours of purple and red, dark blue and emerald green, and gold.

As she approached the small chapel at the far end of the palace complex, a small group of priests met with her. There was no sharing of words as the priests simply bowed before they carried on with her to the doors of the chapel, which they opened. They followed in the footsteps of their superior as she continued on into what was complete darkness, however, as they carried on in the priests began to light candles which were on tall spires they seemed to know the position of by memory. This brought the hall to life. As the light slowly filled the chapel, the stone of the expansion became clear. Though as they continued to burn, so did much else.

The row they walked up was carpeted with a red velvet and golden threaded carpet, cut clean at the base of row upon row of statues of medieval warriors set out in a representation of battle formation. All seemed to be in a battle pose, looks of anger and battle-rage transfixed on their stone faces. They went on until they came to the back wall where much bigger statues of much more menacing men stood. Fourteen mammoth-like men, seven either side, all with individal weapons and expressions. These were the fourteen Revered Fallen. These were the fourteen men who originally protected the Grand Mother. All these statues were said to be life size and that could be said for the statues of the men when stood toe-to-toe with a Kylarnatian male of average height (7"1'). The Revered Fallen statues were said to erect their natural height; they were much taller.

Silvier did not take a glance at these men. They discomforted her with their eternal stone eyes glaring down on her. That was their purpose in the life they had, to discomfort anyone they faced except the person they protected. Silvier kept her eyes fixed on the final statue at the end of the row which was of the Grand Mother herself. It was gold and encrusted with many diamonds of many colours. It depicted the Grand Mother, with arms outstretched, a cobra wrapped around the entire length of the left arm and in her right she held a sword. She wore battle armour and on the huge breastplate an eagle was enblazened on it. Tsarina Silvier stopped infront of it, looking her goddess straight in the eyes (as it was also life-sized, and they shared the same height of 6"8').

Going down on one knee, bowing her head and closing her eyes, she began to prey silently to herself, the priests looking on with their hands together and their heads bowed "Grand Mother, grant me your wisdom this day as I strive to continue our ancient nations dominance over those who are weak at the knees when faced with fear. With your blessing we shall be fearless in the eyes of even our greatest foes, and with your wisdom we shall not be--" Prayers cut short, time seemed to freeze. Silvier opened her eyes immediatly and looked around the chapel. The priests were motionless and the statues seemed to quake. Screams began to fill her head but only in a faint chorus.

Suddenly things snapped back to reality and Silvier returned her eyes to the Grand Mother. What happened was unearthly but on the other hand the young monarch seemed to know what she had seen and heard. Staying silent for a few more seconds, she then rose and took a match from a small box beside the statue. Striking it, she lit a row of four candles which were infront of the statue and almost immediatly after that she began to leave. The priests did not question this and quickly put out the candles they had lit before following their leader back out. They then followed her to where they had first met up with her then dispersed like a swarm of flies. She did not take notice as she continued on towards her study, where she knew something was waiting for her.

Deep in her mind the screams were still going. Strange thing about it was, they didn't sound human. "Non-human screams? Am I hearing the words of demons?" Silvier thought to herself as she then arrived at her study where her computer system was humming away on her desk, very little heat coming from its power source. Coming around to her computer screen she saw that she had recieved a message from Lord Damien Dreadfire of the Freekish Empire. It spoke of a 'purge' of all horsekind. Silvier wasn't surprised to see this message after what she had just experienced.

"So I've heard the screams of the horsekind..." The words escaped her lips. Pausing for only a second she didn't take long to pick up the phone on her desk and punch in the number of the Imperium Information Bureau that she seemed to know instinctively. The phone was answered "Bring me all information on the horsekind or quite simply, the ponies. Yes, I mean the ones with their own concious thought. I want it here immediatly." The cheek of the person who'd answered. She could have them fired and better yet, detained. However, there was no time. Sitting down and pulling forward the wireless keyboard, Silvier began a reply.

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

Lord Damien,

Your call against these 'horsekind' intreeges me. I do not know much about them, but I feel a calling has also been put upon me to respond to their kind with a strike of force. I've heard their screams, Lord, deep within the base of my mind...

The Imperium supports you.

- Silvier
Last edited by Kylarnatia on Fri Dec 02, 2011 3:37 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The Ancient Empire of Kylarnatia // Imperium Antiquum Kylarnatiae
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Orcalium
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Founded: Dec 03, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Orcalium » Sat Dec 03, 2011 2:13 pm

Vistagolv, Temple-Forge of the Battle God Ulfingar
The Fiefdom of Orcalium, Varathron
The Wrotgar Mountains
1:34 A.M. Local Time


Great plumes of black smoke rose from the blackened fortress, appearing as a great smudge on a canvas of snow and pine. All through the air the sound of hammers striking heated steel could be heard, as the cries of cooled metal clashed in tribute to the ancient Orcish God. One could call the Orcish people savages, no better than animals, but all claims where swept away when the full specter of Orcish culture and architecture was viewed by the outside people. For no animal could build a fortress atop the highest mountain in Varathron, and no animal could worship with such devotion as the Orcs.

Within the temple itself the greatest of sacrifices for the Battle God commenced, as the oldest heir of the great Orc King Ouruman battled his father in the ancient ways. They struck at each other masterfully, father and son engaged in a battle of wits and steel. Slashing, hacking, blocking, the two Orcs came at each other like wild animals, even as their blades broke in a mighty shutter when brought together. They fought on, with hands and steel gauntlets they pounded at each other, ripping at the eyes and throats of one another.

At last the the great father gave a terrible shutter, falling from the embrace his son he gave one final lurch like some possessed beast before sinking back to the ground. Above him stood the son, clutching the shattered hilt of the pathetically dull sword the great god demanded the lord right battle be fought with. "So I commit you to the eternal battle grounds of the Pulagium, may you find war never ending and pleasure forever enveloping on the fields of the great Battle God Ulfingar." The son spoke in a chorus tune, before stepping back from his father's shattered body and turning towards the great altar at the lead of the temple.

"So I commit the body and soul of my father to your service Great Ulfingar, God-Ancestor of the Orcs, purger of the Snake-tongued, carrier of the Ludwina blade and warrior of the Pantheon of Gods. May you shine your blessings upon my people and myself as I go forward from this temple, High King Fringar Ouruman, master of the Orcs!" In trance like state the son stepped forward, gripping a pair of blades set in the stone. With a great heave the blades came lose, and for a moment Fringar stood at the altar lost in his own glory as he twisted the blades.

Then his trance broke, the great doors of the temple flung open Fringar turned abruptly still brandishing the twin blades in his hands. In came a flood of Orcs, lead by a group of four men dressed in the tribal garb of old. For a moment the whole assembly simply looked on at the son in amazement until finally, the whole collection of Orcs dropped to a single knee and began the ominous chant that symbolized a change in lordship. "Hail Fringar, son of Ismatha, head of the house Ouruman, and lord King of the Orcs!"

A great cheer went up as the throne passed from one Orc to another, a great cheer that was halted only after a lone man made his way through the crowd. Coming to rest before the new great Orc king, the man dropped to one knee and offered out a lone scroll as he began to speak. "Hail Fringar, High King of Orcalium, your brothers the Battle-Born Human-Orcs of Kradenmark call upon you this day. Answer your obligations of fealty and bring great glory to Kradenmark, Orcalium, and the Great Battle God Ulfingar patron of our peoples."

The Great Orc king swung his blades, bringing them down in a furry of motion, letting them rest just above the Kradenmarken man's head. "Not even a flinch? Truly you are of the great Battle-born Orcs, welcome brother, what news do you bring to my Kingdom and court on this most glorious of days?" The great Orcish king laughed as he snatched the parchment the human carried. In a great flurry the parchment unraveled, and in a likewise manner the Orc king began to read aloud.

"On this day December the Third, 2011, the Great Kaiserreich of Kradenmark calls on the Orcish brethren of Orcalium to bring glory to the God-Ancestor Ulfingar on the fields of battle. The Freeks to our east have assembled a great deal of questers to bring glory to their eternal kingdom, now we call on the Orcish Kingdom to do the same. Assemble your force great brother Orc, and prepare for you shall go out on the great equestrian quest, and bring eternal glory to our people in old ways against the magic using beasts of the horse-realm."

There was silence in the Orcish court, then as if a great storm had overtaken them the Orcs fell to their knees in laughter. "Equestrian quest, magic horse-people? Is this some kind of joke?" The great King managed between bouts of laughter.

"I assure you great Orc king, while this matter is rather humorous the magic horse-people exist, the Freeks have seen the economic benefit from harvest them however, and now your lord calls you to join them in their endeavor."

"While," the Orc king stammered, "While I highly doubt this creatures will be much an opponent I shall as always answer my call to battle, great Orcs of Orcalium, hammer your swords, sharpen your axes, don your armor, for soon we march to the homeland of these ponies where a great deal of horse meat shall be consumed!"




Image
Missive from the Great Orcish Kingdom


Lord Damien Dreadfire you do not know of me, or my people I assume, so I shall bring you up to date. I represent the great Orcish Kingdom of Orcalium, a fief if you will of the Kradenmark Kaiserreich. My people, as you might have assumed are therefore Orcs, un-humans, the people of eternal warfare and reveres of death in battle. I do not know of your expirence with the un-human races but I have heard that you have launched a great expedition against the equestrian, and that my lord in Kradenmark has called me to join your expedition.

I do not know where you will have us go, but the great fleets of the Orcs are ready to carry the warriors of Orcalium onto the shores of any equestrian realm you deem fit.

XFringar Ouruman, High King of the Orcs and Descendant of the Great Battle God Ulfingar

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Princess Luna
Diplomat
 
Posts: 787
Founded: May 25, 2011
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Princess Luna » Sat Dec 03, 2011 8:39 pm

Moonlight Castle, Principality

The inner sanctum room used by Luna for her daily meditation was brightly lit, the six sides dominated by large stained glass windows let in plenty of light, and gave its golden walls a look of brilliant primary colours, the sun was in the west, shining through the window devoted to the element of laughter, and the pink pony whose likeness graced it surrounded by laughing, smiling friends gave the room a cherry shine.

It was accessible only via a spiral staircase, and dominated by a single comfortable round curlpad, on which the dark-furred winged unicorn knelt, her pose balanced leaning forward, toward the sun, her wings neatly folded, her hooves tucked in against the cream velvet beneath her.

Her eyes were closed, and her breathing slow, her ears comfortably folded back, as she concentrated on spreading her consciousness out, thoughts roaming through the present, the past and the future, from her own domain to the distant land of Crystal Spires, and beyond. The Princess was still coming into the fullness of her powers, and still learning to use them with the kind of subtlety that Celestia could, but they were nonetheless prodigious, and the association of the stars with foresight in many magical traditions was no coincidence, and she was a more than adequate prophet and soothsayer.

These days, she devoted almost all her energies to protecting and serving ponykind, all ponykind, from the most atheistic and militant, to her most devoted followers, she regarded as in her charge and care, and she could not help but love them, even those whose deeds strayed from the path of righteousness.

Many ponies had a talent for foresight, usually unconscious, and occasionally manifesting as bizarre twitching sensations, an aspect of the refined magic that flowed through them. The princess was nonetheless, exceptional.

Her thoughts roved over possible futures many centuries hence, in some cases. The possibilities were endless, and sometimes, things nearer at hand could surprise.

It was when she explored the fate of a single strand of the vast tapsesty weaved by fate, that represented by a single mare she had met a few days ago, that she saw one way that things could go.

Her violent death in the future was alarming, and Luna latched onto those who had killed her, working back, and exploring the events that had caused it. A sense of hatred – of ponies – and fear – the scent of fear that permeated the societies ruled by tyrants – pervaded the vision,

Sure enough she found a tyrant at the heart of the chain of cause and effect in her vision, one familiar to her. Damien Dreadfire, infamous leader of Automagfreek, a nation whose rulership of the region of Gholgoth and the Brimstone alliance was well known.

She knew him from her research before her ponies had intervened in the Empire of Shazbotdom, a member of Dreadfire's mutual defence Brimstone Pact. She was an avid reader and had consulted the vast quantities of data available on that alliance before ordering the strike.

Although she knew fear, and did not disdain the emotion as a motivator, she did not feel it yet.

But this was a matter of much greater magnitude, she soon discovered. A crusade devoted to the destruction of her ponies, an offensive of surpassing size and unusual quality, that she feared.

She guided her sight down the avenues of fate to behold the thosuandfold individual crimes that made up the great crime of genocide, with dispassionate detachment, the detachment born of long experience in foresight. The things she was seeing grieved her, but she did not allow them to sink into her heart, they were possibilities only. To witness the worst of fates was the burden of the seer, but to avert them was the joy that balanced it.

At length, as the sun drew down in the distance, she opened her eyes, an aura of unicorn magic glowing around a small chime nearby on the bed, which she rang several times.

“My Lady?” Sundance, her maid, called from the room below after a few rings, “is everything alright?”

“Yes, summon my cabinet, please, it is most urgent.”

“As you wish, your Highness.”


~~~


The Cabinet Room was lit by two dozen candles on the walls, and set around a round table of dark wood. At it sat members of half a dozen races. The majority ponies, but also zebras, griffins, and others. The Princess had finished laying out the vision she had beheld, none questioned, for such things were quite accepted in a realm where magic was entirely ubiquitous, and the trust in which those present held the Princess was second to none.

“Our question is,” Lady Gilda, Her Higness's “Minister for Slaver-Purging,” as the post was commonly known, “what should we do about it?”

“I think there's only one thing to do about it,” Captain-General Stormin' said, the earth pony looking positively wrothful, “we hit them where they live.”

“Think rationally, my friend,” Luna said, “we do not have the numbers to really make that workable, even if the entire Coalition were on board with the plan.”

“Then how are we supposed to fight this? We cannot protect all pony states, and we cannot stop the problem at the source.” Prime Minister Procyon said.

“This may sound radical,” Luna said quietly. “We bring them here.”

Jaws (and beaks) dropped around the bright room.

“We are,” Luna said, “best equipped to fight these forces. We should make it our duty to ensure that they come here, where our people are well drilled, well prepared, and our defences are laid in great store, rather than potentially more vulnerable states, where even the opening volleys of a confrontation could kill thousands. We can for example, easily evacuate every filly and foal in our nation to prepare for war.”

“What you are saying, Princess,” Procyon said, “could be construed as treason. You mean to draw hostile forces into attacking our citizens.”

“Quite, that is why I wish to consult with you all before I go to the people with this.”


~~~


The population were almost all present, thousands upon thousands of ponies gathered by the palace, in a broad assembly field. The princess stood on the battlements, her voice not needing the microphones that had been set up for other speakers, to carry, rather booming out across the land with unnatural volume.

“And in conclusion, we propose that the Principality vote to institute Martial Law, and call out the militia, immediately. We must be ready for total war, and we must know what to expect from this. This is no mean foe we face, but a vast number of hostile creatures. You all know that we would not propose this if there were any other choice. For we are always concerned about our own citizens first and foremost, and other ponies and ponyists, second. But we are certain that this is the right course of action.”

The debate and voting lasted into the night, anonymous ballots hastily set up. White stones to endorse the motion, black ones to oppose. By dawn, eight thousand three hundred and sixty four votes favoured, and one thousand and seventy nine opposed.

Amidst the crowd, Luna stood out afterwards, radiant and beatific, calming and serene.

“Everypony!” she said, her voice echoing loud for miles around, “We thank you for your support. We ask that in the morning, those who are in the milita assemble at your muster points, those who have children assemble with them at their schools, and those who don't know what to do, assemble here. Anyone wishing to evacuate should report to the post office.

“And anyone who knows where we can get seventy thousand horses – the non-sapient kind – report to me. May the Elements of Harmony be with you all!”
Last edited by Princess Luna on Sat Dec 03, 2011 8:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The Founding of the Principality of Princess Luna
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Postby Princess Luna » Sun Dec 04, 2011 4:02 pm

A PRINCESS ought to have no other aim or thought, nor select anything else for her study, than war and its rules and discipline; for this is the sole art that belongs to her who rules, and it is of such force that it not only upholds those who are born princesses, but it often enables ponies to rise from a private station to that rank.
- The Princess, Nicolt Marechiavelli


The schoolhouse was filled with two dozen young ponies, and their parents. Teacher Books was at the front of the room, distributing copies of a list he'd been sent by the Night Guard, this one was a list of things to assemble. The children weren't really scared, or upset, by the news of the coming of Golgoth, they knew enough to know that they would be safe, and their parents would too. “Auntie Daisy will be dealing with the invaders, don't worry,” they would say, whenever the children expressed any fear or doubt.

There were to be two evacuations, the first would be of the children and elderly ponies who were unable to do useful war work, and their carers and guardians. Seven hundred ponies young and old made up this evacuation, they would be going to the Greater Pony Herd, along with a small staff appointed to liaise with the homeland. The destination was chosen because it was culturally and ethnically pony, and while there was little doubt about other places, it was likely to be the best equipped to help continue pony-education.

With the safety of the vulnerable families secured, the rest of the population were beginning the work of war.


Even the animals of the Principality were being prepared for the coming of war.

One of the talents of ponykind not generally found elsewhere was that to speak to non-sapient animals, and if treated kindly, have them do one's bidding, with relatively complex instructions. Many of those without military inclinations or skills were busy calling forth birds and beasts by the thousand, giving them commands according to set directions under military guidance.

Birds would fly out and spread a net of intelligence assets across the wide lands of the Principality, and elsewhere, fish, seals, otters, rabbits and countless other animals were tasked with waiting and watching, told what to do when the enemy showed up.


Another talent that outsiders often didn't know was that pegasai could not only sit, walk upon, and interact with clouds, but make them into permanent structures, even cities. On the coastline, a huge cloud-built city was being rapidly constructed with the aid of magic evaporating water from the coast, the buildings were little more than shells, but they would serve their purpouse.
Last edited by Princess Luna on Sun Dec 04, 2011 5:06 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The Founding of the Principality of Princess Luna
"Luna is the most revered pony in the whole pony world." ~ Lanos
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Postby Princess Luna » Mon Dec 05, 2011 4:25 pm

When we join together in Harmony, we become stronger, stronger than we would be apart, and stronger than we would be if some spend their energies oppressing others and deny them opportunities, instead of building a free and fair society where all can contribute, and all may explore their talents, and benefit from opportunities to learn and grow and be free. That is what I and Equestria offer to you, my friends.
Attributed to Princess Celestia, at the Accession of the Gryphon Clans

Great Hall, Moonlight Palace

The pre-war party was swinging. Dozens of ponies were dancing, while others sat around talking. Younger ponies were hugging and playing, enjoying the attention they had prior to their evacuation. The music was of a less polished variety than some, as almost everyone was having a go at some kind of instrument, if they had any ability to play one (and even if they did not in some painful cases)

Woodstock was actually enjoying himself, for the last few days he'd been worried about the matter of his business not doing too well, there had been a surge in building work in wood, for he was a carpenter who specialised in buildings, when the settlement had been becoming established, but his business had over-expanded for the environment it operated in, and he had difficult choices to make about the work-force.

But with the advent of martial law, he didn't have to worry about such things for now. And the party was rather fun. He was looking forward to the feast that was to be the main event too, as it promised to be a sustained effort to scarf down as much perishable food in one day as the principality's population could. There was a point to this, beyond simple gluttony, for although rations were prepared in great store, and food could be imported, the majority of the food shops in town would not be operating, and therefore had both supplies and finished goods to liquidate. There was more than could be eaten, of course, but that would be used for feasts to celebrate the allies that would come, in time.

At this exact moment though, the business-pony was talking to Brilliant Bolt, a unicorn of substantial talents and the veritable heart of the Principality social scene. He entertained a circle of admirers as he demonstrated Allanean Shovel Fighting techniques. Though many imagined that ponies could not lift and grasp objects, that too was simply a misconception, although their hooves lacked fine manipulation ability, and their legs had a comparatively limited range of comfortable motion, they could pick up objects with their hooves, a trait of natural magic, along with those that for instance, allowed pegasai to break the sound barrier despite the obvious impossibility of that according to their biology. But biology was far less important in making a pony than magic.

Brilliant Bolt stopped and looked to one side, as the regal form of the princess (unaccompanied by her guards, who were drilling those who were on-shift, and far too busy to merely guard the Princess today) approached. Everyone bowed, but briefly, eager not to spoil the party atmosphere.

“Good evening everypony. There is no need to stand on formality, we simply have a special task to ask someone about.”

“Ah, you'll probably be leaving us, good night Brilliant Bolt,” Woodstock said, expressing a sentiment that spoke for the others. Brilliant put the shovel on his seat, and nodded.

“Actually, it's you, and your company, we want, Woodstock,” Luna said, “we have a project that you can help us with.”

If Brilliant had any sense of disappointment, he didn't show it, the large pegasus patting the earth pony on the side with a look of genuine goodwill. In fact, he was quite content with it, if the Princess needed someone for the war effort, well then, he was hardly going to interrupt. Woodstock, on the other hoof, was quite astonished, woodworking skills weren't in much demand, “My Lady? Anything!”

“Come with us, and we shall talk,” the princess said.
Last edited by Princess Luna on Mon Dec 05, 2011 4:30 pm, edited 3 times in total.
The Founding of the Principality of Princess Luna
"Luna is the most revered pony in the whole pony world." ~ Lanos
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Postby Princess Luna » Tue Dec 06, 2011 6:51 pm

Fëanor Palace, Menelmacar
Six Years Ago


Luna jumped aside from the bayonet as it stabbed toward her neck, gracefully leaping to one side and replying with a flurry of kineblades, small knives crafted to respond easily and swiftly to the levitation skills of unicorns. They had been commissioned by the bayonet’s wielder. They were constructed of dense alloys and ensorcelled to respond easily and swiftly to magic, and ridged along their edges after the first few inches of smooth, triangular point. They locked easily on other blades, and could be directed swiftly and easily, one deflecting the blow while another slid between the sword beyonet and the barrel of the rifle, the pony princess applying a turning force to twist the gun aside and wrench it upward from his hands.

Luna had more than one opponent however, and a broad, straight sword with a curving, graceful aspect drove toward her side, her other opponent a tall elven lady, long hair tied and pinned back, her sword blows practised with impeccable timing and precision to exploit the fractional gap created by Luna’s redirecting the small cloud of blades she fought with.

It was not a terribly vital spot on the flank that she hit, just forward of the dappled dark patch on her flank. The effect was quite unimpressive, for the blade was not only dull, it was ensorcelled to be quite useless as a weapon. One would need the force of a motor vehicle behind it to puncture a piece of paper, and it was barely something one could feel. But as a training tool, it served quite adequately. Luna’s weapons were similar props, rather than the matching bladed ones.

The woman, whose gold-trimmed cream coloured gymnasium-trousers and blouse shone in the morning light, flicked the blade back and up to a vertical position, in salute.

“Darn,” Luna muttered in irritation, swishing her tail from side to side. “Again?”

“You’re actually doing quite well at this,” Sirithil, Elentari of Menelmacar, said, sheathing the dummy weapon in its scabbard, which was used more to practice drawing a blade than it was to protect either the sword or others, “That was really much more difficult.

The Moon Princess had been practising self defence against humanoid opponents with her hosts for months. She had come to stay here mostly out of curiosity, but also to assist with things yet to come. Ranisath, Sirithil's husband, presently putting the practice-bayonet and rifle – an old Imeriatan piece – back on a rack of various imported and captured human weapons, dozens of nations' weapons present, both to demonstrate diversity of threats and to ensure that any desired threat could be modelled. “Yes. It's hardly as if even the best opponents are likely to be nearly as dangerous as Siri.”

Although she was not a soldier any more, Sirithil had incredible experience, accrued by dedicated study in over forty thousand years of life. The relationship that had led to Luna's status as the couple's guest had been related to the comparatively distant first contact between Equestria and the C'tan, although Equestria was comparatively isolationist, Luna's sister had relished having more true immortals who shared her own experiences, and both Ranisath and she had wide correspondence. Celestia was exceedingly good at making friends, and as a result, when the expansion of ponykind was predicted, the idea of Celestia's younger sister having the opportunity to learn about the world, and represent her kind in it, had quite naturally led here, a vastly-secure vantage point to learn more of other species and their ways. There was far more to it than teaching her how to fight humans, but it was mentioned.

The trio walked toward the floor to ceiling windows that dominated the huge sparring hall, looking out from Minas Tulkas, a minor tower in the huge complex.

“I find defensive fighting rather more of a challenge,” Luna said. She'd done rather better when instead of defending a fixed point in the room like this, she'd been able to fly and attack, and had won more bouts that way.

“Yes. But you never know when it will be essential,” Ranisath said.

“A strong offence, from my experience, tends to be preferable,” Luna said, with joking indignation, “a much more honest fight.”

“If you're going for preferable weapons, then there's always the most powerful weapon of all to keep in mind.”

“Most powerful weapon?” the Princess asked, “in what context?”

“Oh dear, you fell for it. You're onto one of his favourite topics,” Sirithil said, “I'm going to fetch some drinks while he bores you to tears. Anything you want?” Luna raised an eyebrow, asking for a glass of water.

Ranisath chuckled, “Why of course, in every context,” Ranisath said, “Deception.”

~~~


Moonlight Palace, Principality
The Present


The Princess's library was a large room, well stocked with rows of books filling the three storey room with a dome of glass above it that looked up at the stars and the slim crescent of the moon. On the top level was a small nook with a bed in it, a sleeping space for a single pony. A roaring fireplace, carefully isolated from the shelves, dominated a lowered area scattered with cushions before the grate. "Have a seat," Luna said, turning a kettle in a little nook on, levitating its brass form from an induction pad and pouring two cups of tea, sitting down nearby, "and tell me, Woodstock, what kind of experience do you have with statues?”

“Statues?” he said, bemused.

“Yes, I want to make a giant statue out of wood, and paint it up colourfully, to help the war effort. It needs to be a centaur. A half-human half pony. With a space inside.”

“I’ve... heard something like that before.”

“The Trojan Horse, yes, a well known ancient military ploy, fictionalised retellings are common. This will be quite different though. And it will serve a different purpose.”

“Okay, your highness, what kind of size are we talking about for this thing?”

“Big as you can manage with not more than a hundred ponies to build it,very rapidly. I leave it entirely in your hooves.”

~~~


Morning

“Company, fall in!” Midnight said,looking at the civilians before her. Their equipment was laid out before them. Packs and webbing designed to spread the weight across the body. The ponies were strong, and their equipment reflected that, for this kind of mobilisation bulky packs were used that would contain everything that the group would require.

They carried every kind of gear in the second ground militia batallion, but ultimately, they weren’t expecting to use most of it. In fact, things were going wrong if they had to use the grenades, for instance.

“Attention!” called Midnight. She would not command them for long but as a professional soldier in the Night Guard she was in charge of their drill. Hundreds of hooves pounded the dirt. “Okay. We’re not going to do much square bashing, you’ve all already seen it before and I have no time for that. What we are going to do though, is test the chain of command here. When I give the command to fall out, I want you to find your sections, and then your immediate superior in the milita.This is going to be important, because a lot of you will be operating as small unit as you know. Fall out.”

~~~


The equipment flowing into Coltchester was formidable, but there were plentiful supplies even after the feast. What could be tinned, was being tinned, and from where her food shop stood, Iwaro, the Zebra purveyor of the traditional foodstuffs of her homeland, had a view of several ponies digging in the park, a deep pit, then another, then another. Now and then the sound of excavators trundling could be heard in the park.

Eventually she could bear the curiosity no longer and went over to them on a break.

“Excuse me fine colts if I interject,
Your work today I did not expect
“Why is it you dig in the ground?
“It makes a most curious sound.”

She looked curious as she spoke the end of the verse, such things were common where she came from, even in everyday speech.

One of the ponies, wearing a steel helmet painted bright yellow turned. “I don’t rightly know. Rumour has it that the princess wants to make sheep-dip pools to dye things in. I have no idea why.”

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Postby Automagfreek » Tue Dec 06, 2011 9:26 pm

The Freekish War Ministry spent many hours studying in great detail the ways of the Ralkovian and Scandinvan slave traders in an effort to better understand the practice. Moving into a region and enslaving the natives was a concept quite foreign to the Freeks, as they simply slaughtered wholesale those whom they came into contact with in a hostile zone. The military simply was not equipped for this practice, for it did not have the proper hardware nor the training to accomplish the task that Dreadfire had ordered. Chairman Marv Bonesplitter thought it best to use outside sources in order to secure horsefolk for harvesting, though such options inside Gholgoth were fairly limited.

He could contact the Ralkovians, but their reputation for deceit and excess would quite possibly be more of a hindrance than a help. The famed operatives from Sniper Country had long fallen by the wayside, turning inward after the nuclear devastation that saw the demise of a population so very long ago. However there was one alternative, a small contractor group known as Black Century International had established itself recently and had proven themselves quite capable of performing a variety of tasks.Though it would inevitably raise some eyebrows, the rounding up of ponies, Bonesplitter had no doubt that BCI would be up to the task.

After some brief back and forth discussion, an agreement was reached and a team assembled, though BCI would not agree to use of its personnel for such a mission. Instead the team would be a mixed bag of mercenaries and other unsavory folk from across Gholgoth, privateers who were promised money in return for their services. It was an obvious choice for Bonesplitter, for he could not justify sending in regular military for an economic endeavor, because at the end of the day that is what the mission was; secure ponies from any viable source and transport them (dead or alive) back to the Empire where they would be used for a variety of products. Already corporations within Automagfreek were bidding on contracts to harvest the new resources, with some sending out mercenary forces of their own to gather ponies from other sites.

The fleet was small, but curiously enough, heavily armed. Negotiations between the various parties resulted in the privateers being supplied with top of the line military hardware, in return for a less expensive fee for their services. Shrewd they were, for such equipment could be used for future endeavors of their own, and some saw it as the only plus to this contract which was largely looked at as beneath them. Nonetheless, the armed convoy steamed off towards foreign lands, to gather beings which had not yet been seen inside the realm of Gholgoth. The privateers would likely be joined shortly by others from the Gothic sphere who had answered Damien's call, and together they would explore, conquer, and exploit in the name of profit and the will of Beherit.
Founded on March 24th, 2003
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Postby Princess Luna » Wed Dec 07, 2011 7:22 pm

The Lucid Sea was one of the waters abutting the Principality, a deep ocean merged into shallow continental shelf and a multitude of islands proliferated across the great bay that the Principality surrounded. Although the population was small, the lands that the Principality commanded were vast, and their borders controlled to the north and east by multitudinous automated munitions, but sea approaches were no different.

Excepting of course that now, there was an actual threat to be prepared for. The Principality had more anti-shipping mines deployed than it had citizens, courtesy of Menelmacari and C’tani war industries, but now, other mines flowed from the great Allanean city of Minograd, where countless factories produced every type of fused and automated device to defend. There was, to the Principality, no cost, the operations were bankrolled by others, and they enjoyed an almost unlimited amount of funds should they need it.

This was necessary, for the Principality was quite aware that regardless of the military or civilian nature of their attackers, their attention was still the same: Genocide, the worst of all crimes.

But they would not go quietly.

Deep under the ocean, submersibles, divers, and trained creatures such as dolphins and octopuses were busy at work, while over it traversed airships whose cargo bays carried equipment to the water. The Principality had relatively few of these, but it had enough to allow very large weights to be moved, especially with the aid of its aerial citizens.


~~~


Trenches and fortifications were being dug, not only by the inhabitants, but also by sizeable machines, a single remote-operated trench digger could lay miles in a day, the two dozen that were working at the site called Liberty’s Point were chewing up the ground at a rate far faster.

The entire area was being demolished with a speed and efficiency that the enemy would probably never imagine possible from the likes of them. Of course, even the logging to supply the vast quantities of lumber needed for wood-earth firing points and the great monument being constructed by Woodstock was a little different for them.

Apple Sweet looked at the treetop as she cantered through the forest, and clopped her hooves against the side of the tree, “Hello?” A starling's brown head popped out of the tree up above, looking down quizzically. “Err, never mind, just checking if there's anyone here we need to cut down trees, but not this one,” she said. She passed on, and asked again at another, then checked for nests and burrows, before painting a wide yellow mark on it.

Such was the way of logging for ponies; one didn’t take the easy trees, or the largest, but those that were not actively being used by animal life as homes. It made the whole business longer, but it was paid for in many ways by the cooperation they had from animals elsewhere, and for the most part, ponies were in favour of animal rights, while they recognised that predation happened in the wild, and that some sapient species ate meat, for instance, they were themselves staunch vegetarians, despite the propaganda that had been spread against them.

The wood they were harvesting went to the construction site to build firing points and of course, the huge structure that was beginning to rise on the peak of bare rock called Liberty Point.


~~~


Elsewhere a second wave of evacuation was taking place, for not all of the able-bodied ponies who were in the nation were prepared to fight. There was little shame in this, and indeed, the Princess loudly stated that the true dishonour would be to not examine one’s motives and thus endanger lives by being unwilling to face battle when it was upon them, rather than now.

Another thousand ponies departed, but these were given war work that could be done elsewhere, from setting up trade conacts to bring in supplies to delivering messages to allies.

Among the supplies were thousands of turret guns, including a modular model intended to mount anything up to guided missiles and mortars, and more besides. Yet more mines were deployed, these smaller sea-mines that clustered around the likely operation sites of larger ones, small affairs that were little more than a few inches across, but could punch a hole in a small boat, they were intended to destroy lifeboats; there would be little mercy in the tactics employed by the Lunar ponies, for the enemy were too wicked and numerous to show such overt kindness to.

Elsewhere, long-buried systems were augmented by air-deployment of large shipping containers, all along the relevant stretch of coast, in clearings in the woods, they were not however, simple boxes, but rather, under their camouflage netting, they were equipped as pre-built launch sites for missiles, large pieces fitted for anti-shipping work and more besides.

And in the nations of the Coalition of Ponyist States, those among the second evacuation who had been charged to act as messengers delivered scrolls to the governments of these friends.


Friends,

A dark time approaches ponydom, such I have forseen. Yea even now our enemies pour out the cauldrons of their malice against us, this I have farseen. A crisis quite unlike previous attacks threatens us all, pony and friend of ponydom alike. I have taken counsel with my ministers and my people, and determined a course of action that will best save the lives of ponies and their friends all across the world, and I have put that matter to my people.

In recent days we have seemed to go silent, as so many nations do. Do not despair my friends, for it is part of the plan I have devised to see the end of this threat. It is my intention to draw them into the Principality, that they do not strike more vulnerable lands, and this I have the full support of my people in implementing. We grow closer to readiness with each passing hour, and in a day Coltchester will be deserted but for a few lingering military liaison operations.

But we are not able to stand alone, and we hope that you will stand with us. Our plan requires little of your nations, but much of those who come to our side. We ask for a single battalion of light infantry from each realm of the Coalition of Ponyist States to travel to the C’tani City of Isasrach, and thence to Coltchester, and thence to the battlefront. We ask that these soldiers be placed under our nominal authority while they are in our lands and that they execute our war plan, for we have designed it with the aid of distinguished councillors of great experience in these matters and are confident of its success, we do not expect them to obey us as a ruler but merely to follow our own war instructions.

We have long worked to serve all ponies, and all those who would stand in Harmony with them, and pride ourselves that perhaps alone amongst the Coalition, there are none who have any quarrel with us. We do so again now, this enemy is the enemy of all of us, and we hope that their malice can be turned to the benefit of all, to forge a greater Harmony and help us rise above and draw strength from our differences. We ask that all prior disputes be unspoken.

I shall arrive in the Coalition of Ponyist States headquarters, soon, to hold a council of war, and all will be revealed.

I have the honour to remain, your obedient servant,
Luna,
Princess of Equestria and Mistress of the Night.


OOC: I ask that commitments to send aid go in the COPS IC thread, not this one, as otherwise it may get quite full, of posts that are very similar. I will post in the Cold Darkness OOC with a summary of what's being sent this weekend.
Last edited by Princess Luna on Wed Dec 07, 2011 7:31 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The Founding of the Principality of Princess Luna
"Luna is the most revered pony in the whole pony world." ~ Lanos
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Postby Princess Luna » Tue Dec 27, 2011 4:45 am

The portal opened, its green light casting shadows deep into the woods where it stood. The whole thing, one of several in the forests, looked almost like a pane of glass, a huge shard cast into the ground. Glowing with green light, it allowed the necrons to come and go to this site as they wished. Now however, it was not they that used it, nor their usual users.

The Moonlight Palace’s walls were high, made of a substance that marvellously reflected moonlight, making the whole building seem to shine under the wan light of the new moon.

There were few indeed who were within now, instead of the usual few dozen, only four guards were at home, and only one or two other staff, now drafted, along with but one guest.

“Take a look,” Midnight Slink said in the control room, reaching up and moving the image of the gateway from one screen to another. They’d known it was coming but it was nonetheless astounding to see thousands of ponies and humans marching in ranks from the main gateway, toward the main gate of the palace. The necrontyr logistics people had been careful to ensure that everyone was equipped with both summer and winter gear, and the mismatched looks of some of the battalions making that plain.

“Get the Princess,” Air Strike said, “she’ll want to greet them.”

Above the palace gates hung a fire of bright pink, shaped a little like a classical heart, but made of flames hanging in midair. The exact meaning of this beacon would be known to some but not others among the relief force.

As the troops arrived at the palace, the doors swung wide. The troops that marched through were too numerous to be immediately greeted by the princess, but she made a good effort at it anyway. The palace could actually barrack many thousands if necessary, part of the planning ahead inherent in its construction, but over the next two days there were both feasts to welcome their guests and assignments to deployment outside the town.

The day after, the last ponies left Coltchester, the most valuable items in the palace joining those from the town in a number of netted sites many miles away. Computer systems set to slumber, under dust covers, and other devices set to long term standby, the Princess closed the gates for the last time for some time.


__ __ __


The broadcast was from a satellite uplink by the shore.

The Princess stood on a podium made of pink wood, quite where they’d gotten pink wood from was a mystery, but it seemed like it was actually that colour rather than simply dyed, behind which a banner of The Defeat of Discord hung on a frame, swaying gently in the wind.

On either side of the Princess stood a snow white pegasus in golden armour, soldiers sent by her sister, who managed to effect an air of total disdain even as she leaned against a podium quite casually.

“Greetings to our friends worldwide on this marvellous crisp winter day,” she said, though as the Principality was at tropical latitudes it seemed to be quite warm nonetheless, “we would like to share our harmony on this fine day with the rest of the world.

“Rumours come to us that some of our human friends are particularly unhappy with us of late, and we would like to help allay their fears about the prospect of equine conquest, and to that end we have built a new icon of our friendship with humankind to better convey our warm feelings on this cold day!”

At this the two pegasuses lifted off on either side of her, catching the edges of the heavy tapestry in their hooves and lifting it up smoothly to unviel something behind the Princess. It was huge, and made of the same pink wood, a mixture of a pony and a human, a centaur, holding a huge bunch of flowers, happy and smiling and standing on three of his four hooves. Its eyes and the flowers it held were enamelled in white, and it had red rosy cheeks and rainbow coloured hair. A copper laurel wreath sat upon its head, not yet turned green in the rain.

“We understand that many humans worship a deity called Beherit, we are certain that this happy coincidence will allow all to see our intentions as they truly are, friendly. We see here a ponyform Beherit receiving a welcome gift of flowers of six cardinal types representing the primary virtues of our religion, such as Laughter and Honesty. We have no doubt that this creation and the values of kindness and Harmony that it represents will show to all that we mean no harm, and that we are quite happy to live and let live.

“We welcome any requests to relocate this statue to the land of Beherit, should that be wished, and have designed it for easy transport!

“May the fire of friendship burn within you, and the stars shine down upon you all.”


__ __ __


Camera off, Luna grinned like an idiot.

“Now what?” Morning Star asked.

“We run like the wind. I wouldn’t be too surprised if they nuke this thing. I mean... even I think it's tasteless...”

“I wasn't going to say it” Morning Star laughed, hoisting the camera up onto his back and running.
The Founding of the Principality of Princess Luna
"Luna is the most revered pony in the whole pony world." ~ Lanos
Capital:
Coltchester
Population:
Game-Stat/100,000
CoPS Ambassador:
Grandeur Diadem

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Automagfreek
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1090
Founded: Antiquity
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Automagfreek » Tue Jan 10, 2012 12:37 pm

The BCI subcontractors had contacted another PMC organization based out of a far off Freekish colony in the former "The Most Moral Order", known as Paragon International. They were better equipped for surveillance and intelligence gathering, though far fewer in number than their southeastern Gothic counterparts. As the operation to begin seizing and harvesting horsefolk was brought nearly to fruition, sweeps of the designated areas of operation were begun via satellite.

High resolution and thermal images of the areas revealed an unusual level of preparedness on behalf of beings considered to be far inferior, with an elaborate system of static fortifications and mobile defenses being introduced into the theater. Satellite magnetic detectors picked up a considerable disturbance in the seas surrounding the target zones, with so many anomalies appearing that it came as a bit of a mystery to the contractors how commercial shipping could even traverse such a minefield. Combined with the fact that trenches appeared to be under construction told them all they needed to know about the tactical know-how of the horsefolk.

It appeared that heavier assets would be needed for the campaign, and the defense subcontractors simply did not have adequate enough resources to operate in such an environment. So they began to look elsewhere throughout Gholgoth for support, seeing as the Empire was, at this point, unwilling to do any of the heavy lifting for themselves. The war in Varathron, threats from abroad, and conditions within the region meant that Freekish forces would be needed on the home front, but several others had privately pledged support for Damien's unholy quest.

What the contractors needed largely was fixed wing air support, heavy armor and better logistical infrastructure, as they already possessed adequate EW assets, helicopter gunships, and light armor. If they could not obtain these assets, then Lord Dreadfire would have to be informed that the mission would be a no-go, a frightening prospect in and of itself.

After some internal debate amongst the two companies, calls were made to the Great Hall urging them to provide direct assistance to their campaign, or face potential cancellation of the contract. The argument for full Freekish involvement centered around the fact that other Gothic nations were pledging support, and the Empire had a policy of never leaving an ally hanging. An agreement was reached to provide air and naval assistance, but Sentinel ground forces would not be supplied at this time. Not exactly what they were hoping for, but better than an outright refusal to commit regular military assets.

An armada which had been readied for the war in Varathron but instead placed on standby-alert was detached to The Most Moral Order where it would rendezvous with the ships of the various PMC's. After that, they would then rally in international waters outside of their designated target, and begin prepping strike packages to clear the LZ's for amphibious assault. The planning for theater wide operations was well underway as the Freekish ships began to slip out into Gothic waters, en route to meet up with the mercenary forces who would bring to heel the inferior horsefolk menace.
Founded on March 24th, 2003
Proud founder and Lord of Gholgoth
Condemned by Security Council Resolution #82
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The Naacal
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Posts: 432
Founded: Jun 23, 2009
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The Naacal » Tue Jan 10, 2012 1:11 pm

Imperial Pyramid
City of Alythren-Naras
Naacal Imperium


The Naacal High Command had consulted with EMperor Lerian XII and Damien Dreadfire's military command, and had worked out their first contribution. Lerian XII had at first been skeptical. "Recon? I wanted something a bit more lethal." he had said to the Cetral COmmand staff. He had however been very pleased when they showed him what their plan was. It took 36 hours to replace the rotary launcher payloads on three of the Imperium's greatest strategic weapons, but the results were promised to be worth it.

IMS Tenacious
Regional Oceanic Borders
Gholgoth


Seas were calm, which was a benefit to the unusual squadron as it moved into position to launch it's payload. IMS Tenacious was a heavy salvage tug, normally used to tow disabled warships back to port for repairs. Now it towed a massive barge on which rested an Le-500 nuclear-drive drone bomber. Two more tugs, IMS Energetic and IMS Forceful towed identical missile barges. The small and unlikely squadron was escorted by the missile destroyers IMS Night Angel and IMS Apparition. The barges necessary to move the missiles to the borders of Gholgoth so the drive systems would not pollute the lands and atmosphere.

The payloads of these three Le-500's were quite different from the norm however. Each carried three 9-round rotary launchers, normally carrying short-ranged nuclear missiles. In the case of these, two of the launcher son each missile carried recon drones. The third carried the standard payload of missiles, but instead of nuclear warheads they were loaded with Zal'Anet (Nightmare), a psychotropic war gas developed by the Imperium's scientists. The gas induced hallucinations, and also acted to supress activity in the prefrontal cortes of the brain, making it more likely that victims would give in to the violent impulses the gas would encourage in them.

On the bridge of IMS Tenacious, Captain X'rel-Lenarre got on ship to ship, and signalled the other two tugs and their two escorting destroyers. "Attention all crews, get below decks and secure all hatches. Decontamination crews prepare for action. Launch in five minutes!." Klaxons sounded as the crews got below decks, to be away from open air when the missiles launched. Then five minutes later, two massive high-impulse rocket boosters ignited, hurling the first Le-500 off its launch ramp and into the sky. A sullen red-orange glow then appeared in the drive exhausts as the four nuclear ramjets came online as the missile reached sustainer speed. The missile streaked off towards the Lunarian realm at Mach 3.4,

Shortly afterwards, the other two missiles launched, 30 seconds apart. Each would make it's approach over the Lunarian's lands at high speed and very low altitude, guided by some of the most advanced avionics in the Naacal inventory. They would each launch their recon drones and create a web of surveilance while they lasted, seeking out every detail possible about the land of Gholgoth's enemies. Where a high-population center was found, they would each fire one of their psychotropic gas missiles, to sow a bit of madness and chaos in the land of eternal happiness.

And meanwhile, the nuclear drives would keep the missiles in the air and scanning, also giving the land that special glow. One that was definately not from happiness...


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