The Cold Fields of Coldfield

[Coldfield]

One month later - November 2018
In Coldfield, the economy showed signs of recovery after the economic crisis that began in July. The unemployment rate would sink for the first time in months, the GDP grew again and police were starting to use new paraphernalia. The Coldfieldian Council, led by King Edmund Meyer, abolished some ridiculous regulations on imports. Taxes on imported products were cut and the ministeries were the target of a major overhaul to cut unnecessary spending. The Internal Affairs ministry began working on developing rural Coldfield infrastructure. However, the assassination of Internal Affairs minister John Townsend and two lieutenants of Coldfieldian Army stained the Coldfieldian Intelligence and Defense Forces' capacity of preventing such attacks. It is unknown if the "hits" are linked to the ICPA. Similiar assassinations took part in the Mountains, where a sole assassin killed the sub-commander of Mountainese National Police. The assassin was arrested and committed suicide a week later.

In the Icy Mountains, the training for six pilots for the four LIRCAS Sergeant planes began, the laptops were distributed, and several villages and small towns were visited by the Wardens, usually in the company of Allanean troops or the National Police. The intelligence work also developed in the apprehension of five ICPA installations in Siegecity, resulting in an all-time arrest of a hundred rebels. These rebels were preparing a huge attack against Warden and Police bases in the Mountainese capital outskirts, though their plan was frustrated with ease.

One month after the humiliating defeat in Snowshire where no rebel returned home, the ICPA completed their preparation for a new attack in Stronggate, the remotest town of the country, in the border with the Southern Ridge, separating the inhabited part of Newisland and the part dominated by wild, violent creatures. The town is home to ten thousand people, the second smallest town in the Republic. The rebels could invade the city at any time and the menace was unknown to both Wardens and the National Police - perhaps not to the Allanean Intelligence.

[Allanea]

The Allaneans, too, were preparing. At their camp in the Icy Mountains,, they stacked various types of ammunition for their rocket systems. The long trucks had a benefit for the Free Kingdom – their fire control systems could fit a broad variety of armaments of different sizes, practically anything that could fit the mounting brackets. MLRS rockets of various kinds, theater ballistic missiles in boxes, even anti-ship and cruise missiles. The twenty-four launchers were hidden within the camp among protective walls, and additionally inflatable mockups of the launchers were spread throughout the camp, to confuse the enemy. Similarly, the LIRCAS planes had been supplied with ammunition, and the artillery battalion in Coldfield moved to a forward position near the mountains.

Supplied by the information derived from the questioning of the rebel captives, the Allaneans now knew that the rebels’ underground hideouts were warmed and ventilated – and so, their reconnaissance drones were now seeking out and cataloguing hot air signatures over the mountains, pinpointing the ventilation shafts from the enemy tunnels.

And so at last, the day came.


As he looked out at his camp, Captain Jack Reinger saw the enormous, boxy launchers elevate at last on the trucks that were carrying them. Even now, it was hard to tell which of the launchers was which. He reached for a small microphone on his chest, and raised it to his lips. As he spoke, his words were patched into the network , and heard throughout the Allanean force. By satellite communications, they were beamed to every Allanean team, ship, ad weapon crew on the subcontinent.

"Freemen! Soldiers! I know you have wondered throughout these months, why we have not yet struck at the enemy. Why do we permit thirty thousand brigands to have camps, weapons platforms, tanks, even planes – all of this within dozens of miles of our force.

The fact is, we have been getting our ducks in a row. We have been collecting intelligence, gathering up our logistics, training our allied troops. In the past two months we have trained literally thousands of Mountainese personnel to resist the terrorists. We have accumulated ammunition for all our gun crews far beyond any of our needs. We have researched the enemy’s positions, his radio frequencies, his codes. Painstakingly, carefully, we have studied the enemy’s every move.

The Enemy thought himself invulnerable.

The Enemy thought us weak.

The Enemy thought his victory inevitable, brought forth by his class science.

Today we teach the Enemy that nowhere – not in the highest mountains, not in the deepest valleys, not in the strongest bunkers – nowhere is the safe from our wrath, and from the wrath of our allies.

Nowhere will the brigand and murderer find shelter from us.

Even now, the hammer is raised to strike him.

I, Captain Jack Reinger, Free Kingdom Armed Forces, hereby declare the beginning of Operation Pelennor.

All batteries – FIRE!”

First there was silence – literal silence, and silence on the radio. The EW ship off-shore switched its operations from listening to jamming, filling the frequencies that ICPA was known to use with crackling interference of its own. And then, after the silence, came the storm.

There was a wooshing, howling sound behind him, and several dozen roaring pillars of smoke and fire burst from the rocket launchers. As they rose towards the mountain, the weapons opened long winglets, like a street urchin opening their folding knife, and turned off their engines. These were aviation bombs refitted for ground launch. Their wings moving gently, they swooped through the mountains, flying low to the surface, until they reached the destination – where the enemy tunners were expected to be located. There they dove towards tunnel entrances and ventilation shafts, their ground-penetration warheads optimized to bite deep through the soil and rock itself.

Other munitions were already being let loose. Some launchers carried a box of a dozen theater ballistic missiles, which they fired at enemy targets far away. Over the terrorists’ vehicle parks and camps, the munitions would detonate, each unleashing hundreds of multi-purpose submunitions that homed in on vehicles, tanks, even on the heating stoves in tents. At shorter ranges, - really anything within eighty kilometers of the launcher – MRLS rockets, heavy devices almost ten inch wide and weighing a third of a ton – screamed down on the terrorist camps by the dozen. Many of these, too, carried submunitions too. Soon, the terrorist camps were subject to a rain of fire and steel. The skies came alive with the wooshing and roaring with which hundreds of rockets – sixty per launcher – that screamed down on the terror camps. Where a launcher had emptied itself, a second truck, carrying a crane, would hoist the empty launch box from its bracket, and mount a new one. In two dozen minutes, the machine would fire again.

The towed artillery guns on the Coldfield side of the border came alive too, dozens of shells were being fired. Some of them were high-tech, precision guided by satellite navigation to specific terrorist targets –headquarters, radios, radar sets, and so forth. Others fired regular shells, striking whatever target they could shell.

In the skies, the LIRCAS Sergeant planes flew. They carried anti-tank and air-to-air missiles with which they fired on the terrorists’ primitive aircraft and vehicles, and more importantly, they reported back on the results of the Allanean fire. Where the targets were too far to reach even for TBMs, the LIRCAS planes would strike, and where this was not appropriate, some of the launch trucks could also carry, and fire, long-range cruise missiles.

For two long, incredible hours, no point in the Mountains was truly safe. Everywhere, the fire rained, the ground shook. Every legitimate military target was struck. No, the Allaneans would not target hospitals in this operation, nor was pointless mass-murder of infants their cup of tea – but the tea they did brew for their enemies was a strong make.

[Coldfield]

The Aftermath

In two hours, the air force of the ICPA was on the brink of extinction. The Allanean shelling destroyed almost all of their airstrips and airports, dozens of helicopters and paratroopers' airplanes were either damaged or annihilated. Merely very few airfields inside the Astadana (the highest point in the Mountains) were safe - only because Amaranthinos wasted most of her arcane reserves to hide the ICPA's headquarters from the Allaneans; the old temple seems empty in human eyes, though it is just an illusion.

A part of so-called rebel mechanized units was obliterated in the far away Cleqaw Forest. The vehicle park also used to be a large gas storage, and after being hit by a long-range cruise missile, a fireball engulfed almost all of the snowy forest, incinerating everything in its blast radius. More vehicle parks in Plofkiu and Jimmytown outskirts were hit - the former contained half of the ICPA tanks.

Through all the Republic, dozens of rebel tunnels were damaged by the fire rain. Hundreds of terrorists are trapped inside the tunnels, their electricity and heating systems ruined. In the terrorists' camps groups of rebels ran for the caves, and their injured colleagues left for dead. They thought the caves were safe, but ground-penetrating missiles proved them wrong. Some even tried to escape by tank and technicals - just to be killed by anti-tank missiles from the LIRCAS Sergeant planes. In the remotest areas, satellite-guided missiles were fired at headquarters sparsed through the country and radios near Crystal Falls.

When the shelling ended, just silence and nothing else. The Allanean attack devasted the ICPA's air force and mechanized infantry and made most tunnels unusable, though human losses would take weeks to count.

[Allanea]

Allanean Camp, Republic of the Icy Mountains

Jack Reinger looked at the photographs of the vast devastation that was being wreaked by the forces under his command. Everywhere, the aerial and satellite imagery showed there had been success beyond the Allaneans’ most optimistic estimates. Burning vehicles, wrecked airfields, collapsed cave entrances. In a sense, he had been satisfied with the success of his men – but in another way, there was something horrible about the ease with which, within two hours of bombardment, this destruction had been brought down on people who, honestly, had no way to avert it. (In this thinking, Reinger did not know of Amaranthinos’ success of hiding her headquarters – but if he had known, the tragedy would not be lessened.)

Like most Allaneans, Reinger despised the Communists, this was of course known. But in another way, he realized that most of the rebel fighters were where they are due to their circumstances – hard lives, poverty, and so forth. Many have been manipulated, no doubt, or even forced into service. Even those who were in fact persuaded, fervent believers in the Maoist ideal – were they not men like himself, brave, intelligent, only persuaded in a set of ideas that were in fact evil?

“Captain, observation reports multiple detonations in these coordinates…” – as he opened the visual, he saw a brief video of a vast fuel explosion consuming dozens of ICPA vehicles. ’Unbelievable.’, he said, ’unbelievable.’ – then he smiled, understanding what this implied. “Smith, proceed to the second stage of the operation.”

The second stage operation was a more limited, careful variant of what happened before. The drones that became a common presence in the skies over the Icy Mountains continued to patrol. When they detected what appeared as a group of armed rebels, or armored vehicles, or a cave entrance, one of the rocket launchers or cannon would fire an appropriate munition – whether it was one of the ground-launched bombs, or a 220mm rocket, or something else, from the terrible arsenal that the Allaneans already displayed. On the whole, however, the tempo of the shooting had decreased vastly, simply because there had not been such a strong need.

A few hours later broadcasts began over rebel airwaves.

Comrades! Your organization is devastated. Many of your leaders have already surrendered. The Free Kingdom guarantees that you will be treated humanely and given the medical treatment you require. Please lay down your arms, and approach the nearest hospital, law enforcement facility, or government installation. We guarantee that you will be treated well and given medical treatment.

LIRCAS planes, rearmed with a new sort of munitions, also flew where rebel soldiers were known to be present. They dropped out leaflet bombs – like cluster bombs, but carrying thousands of leaflets on thin, sturdy paper . These were printed with the Allanean Ministry of War seal on one side, and said:

PASS

THE BEARER OF THIS PASS IS ENTITLED TO BE TREATED WITH HOSPITALITY AND REASON SHOULD HE ARRIVE AT ANY FREE KINGDOM MILITARY FACILITY OR POLICE INSTALLATION, FOLLOWING THE BELOW INSTRUCTIONS:

1. ARRIVE UNARMED.
2. UPON YOUR ARRIVAL, RAISE BOTH HANDS IN THE AIR, CARRYING THE PASS IN ONE HAND.
WE GUARANTEE HUMANE TREATMENT AND MEDICAL ASSISTANCE.

This was a psychological trick, although it was not clear if it would work on the Mountainese, given they were a somewhat different culture. The official nature of the ‘pass’ was meant to reinforce the belief (which, by the way, was true) that they would be treated reasonably upon their surrender. That the term ‘surrender’ was not invoked, as such, was also deliberate. It would, it was hoped, reduce the sense of humiliation in surrender to avoid mentioning the term, and make the rebels more willing to turn themselves in.

Finally, there was the last measure Capain Reinger undertook. He made a phonecall to Leeja Stali.

“Madam Stali, here’s what I’d like you to do. It’s likely that many more of the terrorists have been injured than we’d expected, and most likely more than they can treat. Now, we’re obviously using this to ask people to turn themselves in for care, but it’s likely that some will try to bypass it, and try to receive medical care under false identity, or under false pretenses. It would be best if we had someone at hospitals and clinics keep an eye out for suspicious men and women, or people whose wounds don’t match the profile of peacetime accidents. Is there a way we could organize this without violating the ethics codes of the various hospitals, and without being too open about it? Think of the investigative tools you use to track down a suspect who’s known to be injured – any of them apply here?””

[Coldfield]

"Do not worry, Sir Reinger. It will not violate ethics codes or the law. Proceed to the second stage."

---

As days gone by, two hundreds of rebels arrived at hospitals and police stations. Some told that the ICPA was hunting down those planning to escape, executing the deserters. Most of the surrendered terrorists were young and inexperienced. The reasons for joining the ICPA were mostly poverty and indoctrination in childhood. Some were forced by their parents to join the terrorists.

The most important information given by a rebel was a counterattack planned to happen in a week, which would obliterate half of Siegecity if the Allaneans weren't warned. The methods and how-to weren't explained as the rebel feared a sudden visit from Amaranthinos or one of her Demigod allies. "She's freaking angry and went on a hunt for President Cryo and the Demigod Artifacts, which would enhance her powers. Thanks to Astanorim she has an arcane limit, therefore Amaranthinos can't use her powers all day and must rest for a long period."

According to satellite imagery, the interference on the Astadana Mount - the once religious temple turned into the headquarters of the terrorists - ended, which means Amaranthinos left the place. Without her presence, the place is a lot more unprotected since it is possible to attack it now...

However, it could be a deadly, beautiful trap for the Allaneans and the Wardens.

[Allanea]

Jack Reinger’s office, Camp Stormnest

It had a name now, the Allanean camp. Camp Stormnest, for the terrible storms it had achieved. The Allaneans followed their doctrine, and their doctrine was clear: Continue working. Improve your camp every day you stay in it. Over the last month, the camp had grown in size, and was surrounded by thick gabion walls, some of them filled with sand and some with concrete. Concrete bollards blocked the access roads, requiring approaching vehicles to slow down before they approached Camp Stormnest’s gate. Inside it, more gabions and concrete walls would serve as internal layers of protection, both for the rocket vehicles and the various tents and containers in which the Allaneans slept, worked, or stored their weapons. Some of these were placed in pits, their roofs flush with the ground to protect from mortar attacks. Electric power warmed the tents and kept them lit at night. Outsides, barbed wire and minefields provided protection, with fences on the outside of the minefields serving to keep off wayward cows and innocent travelers.

In his office, a well-lit air-conditioned container, Jack Reinger was looking at his computer screen. He was in video conference with the incoming Minister of War. It was a brown-haired woman with large, brown eyes – Baroness Priscilla Conde. Formerly with the Air Force, she had just been elevated to lead the entire Ministry of War at the behest of Queen Cassiopeia.

“Captain Reinger, brief me on the situation, please.” – she said. She was, of course, looking at the camera on her desk, but that made it seem she was looking the Captain directly in the eye.

“In a pure military sense, we’ve succeeded beyond our wildest expectations,” – the Captain said. “We’ve inflicted a lot of damage on ICPA’s infrastructure, trashed their ground forces and air force and most of their training facilities. We’ve gotten better at tracking down terrorist movements, and now it’s pretty reasonable to say we effectively rule the skies. That said, there’s a complication.”

“There always is, isn’t there?” – the Baroness asked. “What happened, Captain?”

“We believe that there is about to be a vast, incredible attack on Siegecity. It is likely that thousands will be killed if we do not take action immediately. It is also believed that Amaranthinos intends to reclaim a group of objects known as the Demigod Artifacts, which are expected to grant her nearly unlimited arcane powers. Should this transpire, we’ve basically…”

“…fucked.” – the Baroness concluded with bluntness which was characteristic for an Allanean. “I’ve read The Lord of the Rings, Captain. I know how this one goes down. The notion of a super-powered chronomancer does not fill me with enthusiasm. Is there a time frame for the attack?”

“Seven days.”

“Pizdetz, nakhui,” – said the Baroness. Then she swore terribly. For a moment, her throat seemed to be enunciating literally dozens of swear-words within the second, in that terrible Allanean tongue that was known as The Free Speech, wherein the speaker harnessed an ability to swear and curse more rapidly, and terribly, than a human larynx and tongue would seem to allow. The woman’s voice no longer sounded sweet and kind, but rather harsh and full of anger, as more and more terrible oaths shook the air.

At last, her voice was sweet and calm once more.

“I will speak to Her Imperial Majesty. Amaranthinos will discover she broke into the wrong rec room.”

*

From: Baroness Priscilla Conde, Lady-Knight, Free Kingdom Minister of War[/b]
To: President Cryo
Encryption: One-time pad.

Dear Friend!

As my knowledge of the constitutional system of the Republic of the Icy Mountains is not complete, I am contacting you with some suggestions given the emergency situation. We must act immediately to resolve the crisis. Here are some actions that I must suggest in order of immediate priority:

1. Commence evacuation of all non-essential personnel from Siegecity, or at least instruct them on the use of basements etc. for safety. Organize immediately access to whatever transport is on hand for evacuation – school buses, transit buses, military trucks. We have a few days, and it is absolutely certain that literally thousands of people can be saved if we act swiftly. A dozen buses can move six hundred people thirty miles away from a city and come back, all of this in three hours. Properly organized, a city’s bus system can save many. Put hospitals on alert.

2. It is necessary to immediately work out a plan for the Demigod Artefacts. The obvious solution is their destruction (immediately, by whatever means), or their evacuation, by air, into the Free Kindgdom or into Menelmacar, for safekeeping. We recommend destruction, or shipping to Menelmacar. (While we are at destruction – delete this message after reading it.) It should be useful to spread multiple, and contradictory, messages regarding the exact fate of the artifacts, and the route they will be taking out of the country.

3. We are hereby requesting permission to operate long-range aviation assets, raiding from the nearest Allanean colony, to carry out strikes on terrorist assets with the clearance of the Icy Mountains Republic. While we are at it, digital copies of detailed data on the architecture of the Astadana Mount temple complex would be incredibly useful.

4. Given the large amount of terrorist captives, which will continue no doubt to increase given our operaions, we recommend that you discuss, with the Mountainese legislature, potential long-term plans to rehabilitate, and return to society, those who have been forced against their will, by their families or by terrorist kidnappers. Doing so would be highly useful for establishing lasting peace.

Yours, Priscilla.

*

From: Baroness Priscilla Conde, Lady-Knight, Free Kingdom Minister of War
To: King Edmund Meyer
Encryption: Secret

Your Royal Majesty!

I am requesting urgently you provide permission to operate two cargo aircraft (similar to the C-130 in size) which have been refitted to deliver a special (conventional) munition from airfields in your country. They are being prepared now and will arrive within 24 hours of your signing the approval. Further, for the same purpose, I request your permission to increase the presence of the Free Kingdom’s Armed Forces in the area by six armed drones (and their maintenance staff).

Moreover, I would like to offer your military additional aid, in the form of several dozen Buckler gun trucks, which will be useful for security against terrorist ambushes, and furthermore some funding for additional training for your operatives for specialized counterterrorist and mountain combat course.

I will be thankful for your rapid response.

Yours, Priscilla.

[Coldfield]

Cryo acted the way Baroness Priscilla Conde recommended. The first action Cryo took was to grant permission for the Allaneans to operate their aviation assets to carry out strikes on the terrorists. Cryo sent the Baroness digitalized blueprints of the Astadana Temple from an untraceable age. Meanwhile, people were evacuated from the city as the Wardens set up shelters in the cities of Bettyhill, Jimmytown, and Archcastle. The Coldfieldian government also took in a few Mountainese. Regarding the captives, the parliament is working on a solution, however, there seem to be no definitive plans until the dust settles. All captives are to be held in prisons and hospital-prisons until the war ends.

Presumably, most matters went as Priscilla expected - except on destroying or evacuating the artifacts. Cryo remained in absolute silence about the topic.

---

The King provided permission to the two cargo aircraft and to increase the presence of six armed drones and maintenance staff. Moreover, he resolutely accepted Baroness Priscilla Conde's offer of military additional aid.

[Allanea]

The Allaneans pitched in - to the best of their ability, at least - to build shelters for those who needed them. The Ministry of War disseminated guidelines on emergency preparedness, and bulldozers worked to dig emergency shelter. In addition, a multi-agency effort was worked out with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, to accept as many as five thousand refugees from the Mountainese Republic in Allanea - or at least, the Ministry issued a tentative agreement for this number of refugees, and it was made possible for them to board outgoing flights to Allanea.

Preparations were made for the coming fight - the Allaneans replenished their supplies of ammunition, Reinger and his men studied maps of the Siegecity. Back in the Allanean colonies, a group of large, multi-engined bombers were being armed put on alert. In Coldfield, two cargo aircraft landed, and immediately as they landed, Allaneans commenced refueling them. Their holds remained sealed, and the Allaneans posted a guard near each plane to prevent any locals entering the hold.

Meanwhile, Priscilla Conde sent a message to Cryo:

I am requesting your authorization to tear the temple down.

Yours,
Priscilla.

[Coldfield]

"Tear the temple down? I'm gonna tell you Tasu-roo, we shall teach that Priscilla a lesson." Cryo said angrily.

"It's the only option possible. The temple is nothing but a stronghold for the ICPA after you killed Astanorim. It's all your fault." Tasu Salsles replied.

"ZENA ANTU¹? Astadana is the pinnacle of our history. Any action against it will be an insult to our people, the biggest ever."

"Our people? What are you, a commie? Also, the biggest insult out there is taking someone's right to live."

"You wanna make things personal?" Cryo asked.

"No."

"Good. So, what are we goin' to achieve if the Allaneans attack the temple?"

"The war will be closer to an end. Personally, I would prefer sending a spy - or a squad of spies - to the temple than striking it outright. However, give Priscilla the authorization. The Free Kingdom personnel are more experienced in warfare than anyone on this island. Trust me, I'm a warden."

"If you say so..."

"We can rebuild it later. People built the Astadana with magic, which is an inherent part of some of us. Rebuilding it won't be a problem."

"You're right, but it would cost a lot of energy, which could cause permanent damages for some."

"The losses will be minimal and possible recoverable, very different if we don't attack ICPA's heart."

"Alright, you convinced me. I'll give Priscilla Conde the authorization. Are you happy?" Cryo asked again.

"Satisfied, but still not happy." Tasu Salsles retorted.

---

1 - "Are you nuts?"

[Allanea]

In Priscilla Conde’s office

“I have been deliberate in my decisionmaking, gentlemen,” - Priscilla said, as she looked out at the four men seated at her table - a representative of Strategic Air Command, one from Strategic Airlift Command, one from the Ground Forces and one from the Organization for Armed Shenanigans, Allanea’s military intelligence body. “I have pursued the letter and spirit of our agreement with both the Mountainese and the Coldfieldians, which clearly stipulates that the use of armed force within their territory is to be cleared with the respective governments. I have not only requested authorization before the deployment of any additional forces, but also before every major use of force.”

The Ground Forces representative, a bearded Army General, shook his head. “I don’t understand, Lady-Knight. What does it give us, to bend over backwards to abide by the treaty?”

“Legitimacy, General Connor.” - the Minister of War raised a finger with a dark-red, finely-manicured yet short, fingernail. “Legitimacy is the primary weapon we wield in this conflict, moreso than whatever armaments we have. If the ICPA is to be defeated, it is through enhancing our own legitimacy, and that of the governments of both countries. The strategy of most terrorists is to erode the legitimacy of both governments by both military and propaganda means. If we want to be viewed as friends of the people, we must seek out legitimacy for our actiions. Moreover, in seeking the approval of the local governments, we are enhancing also their legitimacy, because they are seen as the important player with which powerful foreign governments - that’s to say, us - come to deal.”

The representative from the OAS nodded, smirking ironically. “It is the reverse of a that old, foolish saying.”

“Which one, Colonel?” - General Connor asked.

“‘Any man who must say ‘I am king’ is no true king’,” - Morrison quoted. “It is a saying for fools and imbeciles. In truth, every king, every President, every government, has a thousand ways to say ‘I am king’. Some subtle, some less so. Kings have heralds to ride before them and shout: ‘Here rides-so-and-so, King of Such-and-Such!’, and of course they start their letters with ‘We, by the Grace of the Gods, King of This and That’. There are official seals, and national holidays, and anthems, and any number of subtle and less subtle ways to shout ‘I am King’, or ‘This is the Sovereign Parliament’. And in reverse, by choosing to recognize the legitimacy of a King, or a President, whether their name be Edmund or Cryo or whatever, we are propping them up even before we started firing the guided missiles.”

“This is exactly what I had in mind, Colonel.” - Priscilla nodded. “Now let us start planning Operation Brahmastra.”

Operation Brahmastra

The strategic bombers flew high, beyond the range of any weaponry the rebels were likely to still possess. They carried few weapons, most of their capacity dedicated to extra fuel to guarantee their safe passage. Only on their outer wings they carried several small, modest weapons - slender, relatively small, each of the weapons just about as long as the height of two very tall men. Of these, each of the six bombers carried about two dozen. As they approached, the Allanean ELINT ship switched off its jamming apparatus, and moved to listening only. About this time, the two cargo aircraft that were waiting their time in Coldfield took off.

At three minutes past midnight, local time, the first missiles came off their pylons, about a hundred miles away from the temple complex that was now the center of enemy activity. They locked on to whatever enemy radio and RADAr transmissions there still were, the hail of missiles targeting anything within a few miles of the temple that was still broadcasting on any kind of rebel-used frequency, as well as any radars there.

Minutes later, the cargo planes passed over the Astanada Temple complex, flying several miles up in the air. Their ramps opened, and, suddenly, there were barely-audible flapping sounds as two drogue parachutes opened behind them, yanking their cargos out of their bellies in a single motion - two heavy, grey objects, one for each plane, separated by only half a minute in their appearance.

Then, the first object detached from its parachute and fell down towards the ground. Four guidance fins, opening at its rear end, steered it - a large, heavy object with a rounded nose, a bit like a large barrel. The second one followed right behind it, the fins moving only slightly to steer the objects as they fell, the air screaming around them, towards the temple’s roof.

The sound of the explosions would be incredible - they were not nuclear, of course not, but the complex mix of high-explosive, ethylene oxide, and fine aluminum power produced in each of the bombs an explosion of vast might. The plan was simple - detonate a bomb with forty-four ton explosive equivalent directly in the temple, and drop another one right on top of that. Should the bombs work as designed, should the rebels not deploy some way to shoot down or divert the bombs, the fireball would devastate everything in the temple, the thermobaric blast wave would flow into the cave system below, and the blast wave would be strong enough to knock men off their feet over a mile a way. The sound alone would be heard for miles and miles away.

If it worked, it would be devastating.

At dawn, a photography satellite would pass over the area.

Its task was to check if this plan did, in fact, work.

[Coldfield]

The sun only rose at 0800 hours. Even so, the sky was not clear - the smoke from the bombing of the Allaneans, which not only attacked the temple but almost what remained of the terrorists. Radars and more tunnels were targeted by the missiles, which - if it were not for a weak internet network - would isolate the headquarters from the rest of the world. However, there is no trace that the temple and its precincts: the two bombs aimed at the temple not only caused a huge fireball but collapsed Astadana Mount. There was no chance that one day the greatest symbol of the mountain gods existed. The Astadana Mount, a result of nature's work in million years, did not resist human nature and its most devastating and favorite hobby, war.

The low temperature of -8° and the snowstorm of three consecutive days did not prevent the fire from spreading. Where, one day, the huge section of dungeons that the ICPA adopted as its base of intelligence operations in the heart of the mount was now destroyed, split in half: one that collapsed along with the top of the hill, and the part who stood in the open sky, a recipient of the freezing snow that painted white blocks of stone older than feudalism. The chances of someone surviving were nil, but not impossible.

In Coldfield, generals cursed themselves for not having destroyed the temple twenty years ago when the mysterious interference caused by Amaranthinos' magic destroyed all the bombs and missiles that were approaching Mount Astadana - after the incident, the Coldfieldians never returned to such place. Some Mountainese - especially the Wardens and their sympathizers - celebrated; most remained silent or frustrated by the destruction of the temple in an odd mixture of happiness and sadness.

However, an intercepted message would easily frighten the populace if leaked.

Some survivors in the tunnel network below the temple reported the attack and ordered a mass suicide attack. Across the country, the remaining terrorists - in a disorganized way - began preparations for the final attack - beginning with Siegecity. The victory certainly was no longer possible for them, and destroying the entire country was never an option to be followed in an eventual, inevitable defeat. Has the ICPA changed its position or is it an ace up their sleeve?

[Allanea]

From: Baroness Priscilla Conde, Lady-Knight, Free Kingdom Minister of War
To: President Cryo, King Edmund Meyer
Encryption: One-time pad.

Dear friends!

We have come very far in this, and it cannot be said that we have not all done hard work for victory. However, there are limits to what can be accomplished through force, whether brute, or not-so-brute. We’ve carried out many armed operations against the ICPA, and we have reduced its fighting force in a very significant way. But given intelligence reports we’ve received regarding an impending attack on Siegecity, we are going to arrive at a point where sheer physical force – that’s to say, military strikes on terrorist bases, compounds, etc. – are going to be of little help.

The prevention of terrorist attacks cannot be only dependent on artillery strikes and bombing runs, although as you have seen, in some circumstances they’re very useful. The task for the coming days cannot be accomplished by us, or at least, the Free Kingdom’s Armed Forces cannot take center stage in it. Wardens and Mountainese police, as well as Coldfield’s military and law enforcement intelligence, must be the principal actor in the next, and hopefully the final, act of our historical drama.

It is necessary to gather as much information as possible about coming ICPA actions, and collate it into a useful form. For this reason we recommend the following actions, where they have not been full implemented yet:

1. Utilize police patrols, Warden patrols, or whatever other such actions will be lawful, to carry out roving vehicle checks on the approaches to major cities, or where terrorist activity is suspected. Even where they do not outright [i]catch anyone, they might gather suspicious information, statistics of vehicle movement, and rumors.

2. Collate existing information from suspect questioning into a graphic form (either by hand or assisted by software), creating charts and graphs of internal relationships and structure about the ICPA terrorists. Where possible, use this information to arrest or at least detain more terrorists, and destroy their arms caches where possible.

3. Beef up security around potential targets as much as it is possible without creating panic. Possible cover for such operations would be a training exercise in Siegecity or in any parts of Coldfield where suspected terrorists are expected to strike. Note that if the terrorists learn we are expecting the attack and cancel it, we’re totally fine with that outcome.

Yours,
Priscilla.[/i]

[Coldfield]

Priscilla's message was read only by the King of Coldfield. Upon reading the message, the King immediately tried to communicate with the Mountainese president via telephone and encrypted internet conferences, but no one replied. Suspicious that something or someone had interfered in the telecommunications with the Mountains, Edmund called Johnny Gunderson, commander of Coldfieldian operations in the border with the young Mountainese republic. Johnny confirmed that all communication means with the country had been disrupted, and requested permission to cross the border.
"We have no other alternatives. Find out what's happening."

---

It was noon, but the sky in the republic was black as the void that surrounds this planet. The further Coldfieldian soldiers advanced, the stranger and deader the vegetation was. All plants were red and looking stuffed with something, probably a liquid; while structures built by humans were unaffected, the mountains and soil were abnormally brown, like if they were partially burnt. The satellites recorded nothing other than a huge red cloud, contradicting what the soldiers were witnessing. All the snow that covers the country's valleys and mountains has evaporated; if they had melted, the Coldfield border region would have become a lake. On the road in which the three thousand Coldfieldian soldiers were marching on way to Siegecity, many abandoned cars were found - all of them were entirely rusty, with doors open, and clothes drown in a puddle of a strange orange liquid similar to blood in both smell and taste. Examples of the liquid were collected and taken to analyze in Coldfield. Meanwhile, most soldiers were reluctant to move on, however, as under Coldfieldian law desertion will result in capital punishment, all soldiers managed to reach the Mountainese capital.

Once inside Siegecity, Johnny divided the battalion into three squads: the main squad would inspect the capital city under his command while the other squad would inspect nearby refugee camps.

Most of Siegecity were evacuated, however, the presence of puddles with that strange liquid was frightful. Not just clothes, but firearms and grenades were also drowned in those puddles. It was ICPA weaponry. If Gunderson suspicions are correct, the entire ICPA could be dead at this point.

The puddles were everywhere: streets, avenues, houses, banks, commercial skyscrapers, churches, police stations. However, when Gunderson's squad reached the Presidential Palace, there weren't any orange puddles - but a giant, albino aberration crawling out of the palace, heading for a shiny small box in the Presidential Square, inserted into a statue of Cryo.

The aberration, comparable to ancient paintings of Astanorim, was gasping, with its eyes wide open. The giant had blood-red eyes, black lips, and apparently no sexual organs. The entire squad paralyzed, astonished, watching the monster reaches the box. He lifted his arm and slapped the statue, breaking the box inside it and cracking the Presidential Square's ground. In few seconds, a strong blinding yellow light emanated from his chest. The giant began to melt - only his floating jumping heart didn't melt.

More seconds passed away, and the heart instantly flew faster than light. It simply disappeared - just to descend even faster and hit the ruins of the Presidential Palace. And in the blink of an eye, an enormous fireball slowly emerged from the palace. Scared, the soldiers began to run; Gunderson had no control of the situation anymore, and any orders he could give would be ignored. He stood still, watching the fireball slowly expanding until it reached him. He showed no resistance, and fell to his knees on the floor, smiling as he turned into ashes.

In half an hour, the entirety of the Mountains would be engulfed by the fireball - everything returned to oblivion.

---

What Happened

When Cryo refused to destroy or transport the demigod artifacts, she was planning to use them in an eventual duel against Amaranthinos. The duel did happen during a meeting of the parliament. Cryo stored the artifacts in the Palace's basement and sealed them using Astanorim's magic. However, Amaranthinos killed her demigod allies to absorb their powers and be capable of retrieving the artifacts. She used them to easily defeat Cryo and absorb her powers, commencing the Hive Mind project - every Mountainese and all those inside the Mountains' border will be assimilated into a single conscious giant aberration - part of her "If I can't win, everyone loses" philosophy.

The fireball was, in fact, a portal to another universe. What happened to everyone and everything in the Republic it is unknown. In Newisland there is no evidence that anything actually existed there - the mountains became a flat, snowy land.

What exactly happened nobody will ever know. But what the Mountains caused to Coldfield and how it potentially changed the world's history, will never be forgotten.

[Allanea]

Official Message from Queen Cassiopeia Blaken-Kazansky

To the citizens of the Icy Mountains abroad, of Coldfield, and the Freemen of Allanea, I, Queen Cassiopeia Blaken-Kazansky, speak.

In times of grave crisis, it is the duty of a Queen or King to speak to their people and their allies, to attempt to explain the meaning of the events, to lead. There are however, sometimes, situations so horrific where the…. Forgive me for a moment…. There are situations where even a Queen can do nothing but mourn with her people and allies.

This is such a situation. I cannot yet provide a full explanation of the events, events so bizarre and frightening that even our finest minds are still collecting…. Still attempting to understand what exactly went on. Only a few facts remain clear.

The reality on the ground is… what I mean to say is… we have received news that, early this morning in local time, a strange series of spells was triggered at Siegecity, the capital of the Mountainese Republic. We do not exactly understand the nature of these spells, but what is apparently clear that the majority of the Mountainese, and the majority of the Free Kingdom personnel in the country, are dead or missing. Of our own contingent, approximately twelve personnel survive, some of them with injuries. Of the Mountainese….

We believe as of this moment, that the majority of Mountainese citizens are dead or missing.

Let me be clear on this subject… I do not mean ‘the majority of the citizens in Siegecity’. I mean that, literally, as of this moment, the Mountainese nation is no more. It is not clear if its citizens have literally perished, have been kidnapped, or perhaps subsumed into an alien entity. But they are no longer with us.

Tomorrow, some of our finest scientists will travel to meet with representatives of King Edmund’s government, and do what, in these circumstances, is proper. They will attempt to comprehend what occurred, and whether it can be reversed, or at least whether it can be prevented in the future.

The Free Kingdom had been asked to assist the government of Coldfield – and later also the Mountainese – against the ICPA. It was our responsibility, then, to assist our allies, and to attempt to shield them from evildoers. In the future there will be debate whether, or not, we failed in our responsibility. There will be discussion of what went wrong, where, and how.

But for now, for the next day, at least, these events must take a back seat to the stark horror of the reality that an entire nation of people no longer exists, destroyed by evildoers for motivations we cannot fully grasp at this moment.

In the future, there will be blow-by-blow reports on what happened, what could have been done better, and who is to blame. We will figure out what happened today, and perhaps even – though I caution that this is very unlikely – some may be rescued. I do not want to create false hope with those who have been outside the Republic at the time of this terrifying disaster, and who may still be searching for relatives or loved ones. It is most likely that they will never see their loved ones again.

We will discuss – later on – explanations, precautions, and, of course, as always, we will attempt to assign, or accept, blame.

But I ask all those involved to treat the memory of our allies, and those who still survive, having lost friends, family, and loved ones across the border, with respect and dignity. For today we must make time for something beyond our differences, beyond our anger, beyond blame or guilt.

Today we mourn a nation of millions, who have struggled bravely for their rights, only to be taken from us in a single moment by the actions of a failed, malevolent tyrant.

It is now a time for tears.

May the Gods protect us all.