First Bearstinian Civil War (FoA Only)

by **Bearstin** » Sun Nov 26, 2017 3:24 pm

Achara Cold War Series: Episode I: The First Bearstinian Civil War

After the assassination of Darius Black in 1943 at the height of the Great Regional War, the Bearstinian nation slowly descended into a period of chaos. In the will of Darius Black, Frederick Wilson, the Grand Marshal of the Army, was named the heir to the empire, not Aayla Black, Darius' daughter. Darius said that should he die, he wanted Frederick Wilson to succeed him. His will was read aloud to the Royal Court and Frederick and Aayla were both shocked. Aayla acted quickly and ordered his arrest on chargers of doctoring the will and treason. Frederick escaped the building and fled the country, passing into the Second Aydinirian Empire where he was granted asylum secretly. Without their two most important leaders, the Bearstinian war machine fell apart and were pushed back. Bearstin entered into talks to end the war. A ten day ceasefire was agreed upon and five days later, they had a deal. Bearstin would pay serious war reparations, and would cease all further expansion. The reparations crippled the economy, and the military was split on who to support. In 1949, leaks from what happened in the Royal Court at the Will Reading emerged, and riots in Frederick's favor occurred. In 1951, Frederick was escorted by Coytian and Aydinirian forces to Bearstin, encountering little resistance along the way. After a brief skirmish, the palace was secure and Frederick established himself as the Grand Regent of Bearstin. He vowed to hand over the throne to Luke Black (Aayla's son) when he came of age. Aayla refused and established her capital at Cardinalo. Luke, who was fourteen at the time, was off studying abroad in a prestigious school in Aydinir as the Bearstinian Royal Academy wasn't safe for him. Unbeknownst to Aayla, Aydinir had been harboring Frederick and Frederick frequently spoke to Luke. Luke, like his grandfather, was very skilled in politics, and understood that his mother had no idea what she was doing. He loved hearing the stories of his grandfather and he enjoyed learning about military policy and tactics from Frederick. Frederick asked Luke to stay in Aydinir and not return to his mother, and Luke agreed. The battle lines for the Civil War were drawn, with the south supporting Aayla, and the north supporting Frederick. Aydinir lended their support to Frederick, and some of the Allies became nervous. War was to be avoided at all costs, but what was the limit of what could be done?

let me know in the rmb if I missed something. Notify me on the RMB if you wish to ally yourself with a faction. That way, we can keep this from becoming a mix of OC and IC stuff

by **Ruskland-Preuben** » Sun Nov 26, 2017 8:32 pm

Oy vey I'm here.

by **Kaitani** » Mon Nov 27, 2017 5:19 pm

Cannot partake
Kaitani is way to scared to do anything at this time period

by **The Imperial Warglorian Empire** » Mon Nov 27, 2017 6:01 pm

Wargloria is not the most trusted in the Regional Community at the moment, so we'd probably send some sort of mercenary company to intervene

by **Cruxa** » Mon Nov 27, 2017 6:24 pm

Okay. I'm in, because I just helped peck at Ruskland. I'm weak though, not much support probs.

by **Shahinay** » Tue Nov 28, 2017 4:48 am

I'm obviously in but I very buisy right now so I will post tomorrow at best

by **Cruxa** » Tue Nov 28, 2017 5:59 am

... Is there an IC???

by **Rannoria** » Wed Nov 29, 2017 8:35 am

Cruxa wrote:... Is there an IC???

this is the IC

by **Bearstin** » Thu Nov 30, 2017 10:05 pm

Imperial Palace, Bearstin
Frederick Wilson sat in his office, the one Darius was in when he was assassinated, and was currently looking up the telephone number to Aydinir. The war was on, that was a definite, and Aydinirian support would end the war quicker than it started. He needed to regain control of Bearstin and make the necessary reforms for Luke Black to take over. The assassination of Darius led to the ascension of the political disaster known as Aayla Black, and now the country was slowly going to dirt.

He dialed the number and sat on the phone, waiting for an answer.

Mayors House, Cardinalo
Aayla Black stood on the balcony of the mansion situated in the center of the city. She was overlooking her new capital, and hopefully temporary. She had the machinery, just not the manpower or tactical skill to win. She thought of her son in Aydinir and hoped he was well despite him turning against her. She needed to show him she was capable of ruling, maybe then would he return. She had tried to get some troops to infiltrate Bearstin for recon but they had been cut down really fast. She was in a tough spot, but she knew Frederick wouldn’t act yet. She would use this time to organize herself, and try to think of a strategy to beat one of the greatest military minds of her era. It would be tough, but she believed she could do it, and at the moment, that was all that mattered

by **Shahinay** » Fri Dec 01, 2017 8:38 am

Ezhid, winter capital of the Second Aydinirian Empire
Night of 20-21 December, 1951

It was a night of Winter Solstice, the longest and darkest night of the year - Cir̄as Ťaomāz, The Night of Magic. One of the 4 greatest Aydinirian festivals. Thousands of citizens of Ezhid went out from their homes, to the streets and roofs of the city, with torches in their hands, singing the holy chants - saying goodbye to the setting sun. The darkest of nights was nigh, as the Sun was slowly disappearing in waters of the Bay of Ciri.

Vaťéxanis Shanrhainhīri Vannéverhīri Ḱivarāxaren, Imperial Minister of Foreign Affairs, was also standing on the balcony of the Royal Palace, with a torch in his hand and a song on his lips. That was his sacred duty after all. The Sun almost completely gone, only a blood-red glow was visible at the western horizon while the stars started appearing in the sky.
It was when a sudden noise in his office interupted the ceremony. A phone - Vaťéxanis quickly concluded, ready to come back inside. But his secretary was quicker, she already answered the phone.
- Sir, it's Mr. Frederick Wilson - Rinavriťen told him, while he was still at the balcony. - Should I tell him to call later?
- No, it's alright. Thank you. - he told her, stepping inside the building. Vaťéxanis sighed. Heavenly duties were as important as the earthly ones.

- Hello, Mr. Wilson. - Vaťéxanis answered the call, with the move of his hand telling his secretary to leave him alone.
The last of the chants were ending in the city below.

by **Rannoria** » Fri Dec 01, 2017 3:16 pm

Rannoria, a Nation with Not Much Lost and Much to Gain

Zee Prlmnt, Rannkradle
It was a cold winters day. It was nearing Christmas, as it was close to the 25th of December, though Rannorians didn't really celebrate that as it was a Christian thing and only the Carinian population of Rannoria would do so. While it was night, and the streets were lively, the newly re-elected Grand Nevers Urander sat alone and isolated at his desk, with the blinds closed and the lights turned on. He had a drink on his table, but it was mostly untouched. What he was doing, though, was reading through a collection of reforms that would revolutionise Rannoria. It would change the Rannorian society forever, yet would make Rannoria a military powerhouse. A true force to be reckoned with. Although Rannoria had come out of the recent Great Regional War with a high reward and few losses, it was still shadowed by the might of the Warglorians, Bearstinians, or any other military or great power on the continent. It needed that push to get it up there. With these reforms, factory production will increase, the military's budget will double, and many things will kick into gear to help push Rannoria into a second Industrial Revolution, though there was one thing standing in his way, and that was-

"Mister Arait would like to see you now, Nevers." A man, Nevers' assistant, said to him as he opened the doors into his office.

"Bring him in, then." The man nodded and left. Soon, another man came into the room. "Theodore Arait," Nevers said, with what almost seemed like a forced smile, "a pleasure it is to see you again."

"A pleasure it is, too, Nevers," Theodore said, putting on the same expression Nevers did, "but how are the plans coming along for your, er, 'Phoenix Reforms?'"

"Just going swimmingly," Nevers responded, though when he spoke, his voice sounded strained, "and you're still going on about being against the reforms, aren't you?"

"As a matter-of-fact, I am, yes." Theodore smiled. Again, he seemed to mirror Nevers' actions and voice, though when he next spoke his voice was back to normal, "So, did you hear about the Bearstinian Civil War?"

"I have."

"And is Rannoria going to support any side?"

"Well not just yet, I mean I must pass these re-"

"You're serious, right?"

"About what?"

"Taking a side-seat in international politics and instead focusing on some reforms that will plunge Rannoria into disas-"

"Disaster?! You think these reforms will bring Rannoria into disaster?! The O.C believes that it's a great idea-"

"Whilst the L.C believes it's horrible! Have you not thought of the side-effects? These are reforms that will pass immediately, and it will literally topple Rannoria's government. When do you plan to pass them?"

"This year, of course."

"This year?! You're insane, Nevers. You need more time to plan, to quickly re-organise when everything's put in place, to-"

"I've had enough of your balderdash, Theodore! Ever since 1940, you've opposed my changes, my reforms! What do you have against me? What do you hold against my thoughts that makes you want to destroy them?!"

"It's because you've gotten everything easy, Nevers! I've been in this career my entire life, and you stroll along in one of Rannoria's darkest hours and storm the show. You've stolen the limelight, Nevers, my legacy! I should've been in your position! I am the capable one here, not you! Who advised you your entire two terms, eh?! Who has helped your every step? And instead of repaying me, you treat me with more and more distrust, and so I must do the same to you!"

The two of them stopped for a moment, until the silence was broken. "We used to be friends, Theodore," Nevers spoke, "but it seems your pride has gotten in the way of everything."

"My pride? Yours is the issue-"

"Out." Another silence.

"Pardon?"

"I. Said. OUT!"

"WELL IT SEEMS THAT YOU NEED TO SHOVE A BOOT RIGHT UP-"

"GET OUT, THEODORE!"

Theodore looked like he wanted to retaliate, but he didn't. Instead, he turned around and stormed out of the room. Nevers went back to his desk and sighed, putting his head in his hands. This was happening each night the past month. His old friend, now his bitterest rival. If only it could end.

by **Bearstin** » Sat Dec 02, 2017 1:24 pm

Imperial Palace, Bearstin
December 20th
"Mr. Ḱivarāxaren, it's a pleasure to talk to you again. If I remember correctly, the festival is ending just about now and I apologize if I interrupted. I just wished to talk to you about the civil war in my country. When I planned my return to Bearstin when I was still in Aydinir, you said you'd be willing to give us military support. A stronger Bearstin does equate to a stronger Aydinir given our close relations, and Aayla Black is a danger to Bearstinian prosperity. I don't know if anything has changed recently but I'd like to discuss how you can help us win this war, and ultimately restore the Bearstinian Empire to its former greatness," Frederick exclaimed as he paced around the office, looking at the paintings of his predecessors, including the ones of Aayla, Darius, and Derrick.

Shortly before he left Aydinir to retake control, they had discussed the possibility of Aydinirian support. With the Coytians backing him, Aydinirian military support would only be icing on the cake. The war could hopefully wrap up quickly and they could re-enter the world stage. Bearstin had taken a mighty fall after the war, and recovery would not be easy. Frederick had an agenda, a massive spending plan that he hoped would set Luke Black up for success. Restoring the Navy and keeping the Army caught up were his military priorities. Economically, he needed to find a way to bring the country out of economic ruin. He wanted to stimulate the economy by creating up to date war machinery, household appliances, and large building projects that would force contracting companies to hire more employees and create more jobs. This could only be done if he were to beat Aayla, and he knew foreign powers would be scared of a powerful Bearstin and might act against him, but he also didn't necessarily wish to continue the Imperialists tactics of Bearstin. He believed that they needed to fix the domestic problems before worrying about whats abroad.

by **Ruskland-Preuben** » Sun Dec 03, 2017 6:10 am

Ruskland-Preuben, December 21, 1951. Brutal Winter Winds be Blowing!
In Palas Fomalhaut...

Ordocvai Arron/Ordocva'il Aerron(current ruler, ruled 1943-1963) currently was enjoying political popcorn in his noggin, all the while being mesmerised by the brutal wind blowing outside. He could see alot from the tall tower he was in, and he saw people and cars with snowploughs powering through the thick layer of snow. Large public bonfires in the squares heated passers-by, and in the far distance, he barely saw the marshes begin to freeze over, yet it would never freeze fully, the marshes never did in all of Ruskland-Preubenr history. He saw the sun behind thick but transparent clouds dumping snow. It seemed to be sick, as instead of a bright yellow, it was pale instead.

He currently was enjoying a hot glass of sweet milky chocolate, made from mixing cocoa powder, powdered milk, sugar, and some marshmallows, due to the cold environment, his breath was made cold as well, perfect to cool down the milky chocolate to a hot but drinkable temperature. He delighted in the taste when it was cooled down to just perfect, and he thought of ways to make the drink even better and more accessible to the people. Of course, these weren't the only things the old emperor was thinking about.

About that political popcorn, it came in the form of the Bearstinian Civil War. He thought of the pros and cons of supporting either side. If he were to support Frederick, and if he came along with his promise to put the grandson of the deceased Darius Black, Luke, Ruskland-Preubenr support would earn him the favor of the Bearstinians, and that favor could be used to make a matrilineal marriage with a daughter of the house Fabler-Castell and therefore adding a crown under the yoke of the Ruskland-Preubenr. On the other hand, his son was single and without issue, and so he could wed him to Aayla Black, they would have to assassinate Luke Black for this one to work, but if it did work, a union of nations would be born.

This planning made him tired, and he decided to shake it off a bit by going on a high speed drive.

He got ready, and tuned up the radio as he began his acceleration through the city and into the nearby mountain roads. "Up next is a favorite amongst you speeders!" The host cheerily said, "It's none other than SpeedSongs' hit song, gas Gas GAS!". The old emperor nodded to that, and there were a bunch of turns in the part of the road he currently was in.

"Do you like... My car? My car... My car...". A sharp turn...
Drifted.

Here came the really sharp turns however, but it was no problem to the imperial speedster, and the beat helped too.....

"GAS GAS GAS!", and lo and behold, he drifted all of them...

by **Shahinay** » Mon Dec 04, 2017 9:32 am

- Yes, Mr. Wilson, I have to admit you have a very fine sense of time. The holy chants are about to end right now, so we have quite a few time to discuss matters of state. - Vaťéxanis answered.

He could hear the voices getting silent with every moment. People were slowly starting to leave the streets, balconies and roofs, returning to their houses, to prepatre a feast that will last the rest of night. When all seven of the Xiryāya Khshāyarani, the Royal Stars, will appear on the sky, people will join in family celebrations, eating and talking, awaiting the dawn. And in each house was a torch or fireplace, that will illuminate for them the darkness of this longest of nights. Cir̄as Ťaomāz was in fact very simmilar to the Christian Christmas - both celebrations happened in simmilar time and in both of them families were gathering behind the tables, to spend it with their beloved ones. Aydinirians liked to think that it was yet another thing the Younger Nations borrowed from them, their another cultural influences. Naturally, excluding the scientists and scholars, not many people outside the Empire liked that idea.

- Indeed, as I said before, our Divine Empress, praised will be Her name, is willing to lend your cause Her support. Aayla Black has proven to be an incompetent ruler. Even her own son has turned against her. If one cannot preserve order and unity in ones family, how could one bring order and stability to a whole country? The Empire believes that Bearstin needs a new ruler, nothing changed there. But there are some issues.
- In order to send our forces to Bearstin, we have to have a clear road, as we do not share any border. Arengin and Ruskland block the way, and I honestly doubt neither of their governments would allow to march of Aydinirian troops across their territory. Not willingly. But Arengin is weak, weakened by their civil war. Imperial forces could march through those mountain valleys, stright to Coytey. In case if Communists had the courage to protest on the international stage, you, the true ruler of Bearstin, would have to put a pressure on them. A threat for them, but not too much, as we don't want them to join the conflict.
- Your Excelency, let me be straightforward here, you must be aware thet Aydiniran support is not altruistic. Everything has its price. And although having our friend on Bearstin's throne is convienent in ith own, the Empire would also like to have several lucrative trade deals signed. Our companies could also invest in Bearstin,to help you rebuilt into your former glory. - Vaťéxanis concluded.

Freindly and strong Bearstin was in Aydinirian interest, that was true. But friendly and strong Bearstin, under Aydinirian influence and economical domination was even more in its interest. And Beartin needed help and funds to get up from its knees. Why not take use of it, concluded the Empress and Her advicors, by making Bearstin dependent on Aydinirian financial assistance and several trade deals, favorable for Aydinir.

by **Bearstin** » Wed Dec 06, 2017 7:56 pm

Imperial Palace, Bearstin
Frederick thought for a second as to what the Aydinirian minister had said. He was hesitant to have his nation on Aydinir's leash (though out of any nation he would prefer it to be them), but he had no choice in the matter. A prolonged civil war would only weaken Bearstin further, and Aydinir was the key to this all.
"Well Minister, I really don't have a choice. We can definitely get some trade deals signed, you may proceed with your investments, and I can guarantee that should any trouble encounter your troops in the mountains, I will make sure Arengin gets my message. I am very thankful for your help Minister. Have a nice night," he said.

An hour later
Frederick and his advisers stood around a detailed map of Bearstin. They were discussing attack plans for Riverington, the second largest city in Bearstin and an important foothold that allowed Aayla to maintain her defenses. It also where she drew most of her army from, and conquering Riverington would reduce her manpower and increase his troop morale.
"Minimal civilian casualties is the goal here," stated Frederick as he examined the map and the newly drawn in defenses that the scouts had picked up. So even though the east side would be easy to shell, she wants to bait us into killing the population and decreasing our support. We will have greater casualties, but the best route is to attack from the North."
"Your excellency, I strongly disagree," a general named Xavier Reed said, "we need to win this war fast, and civilian casualties can be worried about later. We will easily consolidate our power when we are the sole power in the region. I can understand refusing to make bombing runs on these cities, but surely we can't subject my forces to bloody sieges."
"General Reed, I understand you don't want to lose the amount of men you did during the Invasion of Kaitani, but I beg you to understand that these are our own people that have been brainwashed into thinking that I am a criminal. I need to regain my positive image so that when I am ruling, I can establish an empire that Luke Black can inherit and succeed in. This decision is final."
General Reed's face darkened and he sulked back and watched Frederick continue his plan.
"Once we breach the city, the first wave will clear the streets, and then we will send two more waves in to assist clearing and securing the buildings. After that, we will storm the Protectorate's manor and place him under arrest until his loyalty can be secured. If he doesn't cooperate, the Coytian's will deliver him to my palace. Is this second phase agreeable?"
"The second phase sounds good sir," General Reed grunted and the other Generals who had mainly stayed silent nodded their heads.
"Good, we may have Aydinirian backup for this attack so we may be able to overrun them quickly," Frederick said as he rolled up the map, and shoved it back into his desk. "General Reed, you are of course in charge of the attack as these are your men. Do not fail me. The rest of you, continue to maintain our defenses and have your forces on standby for a counter attack or if we can conquer the city quickly, a complete override of the Western side of the country."
And with that, the meeting was concluded and the Generals filed out of the office. As the FoA was entering a cold war, the Bearstinian Civil War was only heating up.

by **Afrikaanza** » Fri Dec 08, 2017 7:07 am

Brinton, Afrikaanza
December 18th, 1951

Thirteen suit-claden investors and a unique guest stepped into the laboratory, a utilitarianly decorated room which adorned wires and cables making their way to a large metallic board of circuits. It was here that Jonathan Tosling spent his life working on a concept that seemed foreign for the average man of the 1950s: the idea of an interactive computing device dubbed the "Whirlpool I". Tosling looked towards the guest and his potential allies, whose expressions laid a mesmerized yet confused sort of look that widened their pupils with intrigue. Tosling walked slowly with his hands behind his back towards the front of the device and presented it to the small audience of businessmen, telling tales of the future and demonstrating the power of its revolutionary core memory processing module. Of course, there were mixed reactions to this machine. Some of the potential investors failed to see what this could bring to the market, stating that the hunk of metal could never do any job as efficiently as a person could; while others quietly asserted that the idea of a "sorting and thinking" machine was of extraordinary value which only true visionaries such as themselves and Mr. Tosling could imagine. Willis Vandale, a man famous for breaking past the poverty line during the Great War and becoming one of the richest men in Afrikaanza, found himself a quiet supporter among the latter of the bunch.

After the presentation and a few words with everyone else in the room, Tosling found himself alone with Willis in his personal office. Curiously, Tosling asked if Mr. Vandale was willing to help fund the project towards the second generation of the computing system through investment.

Mr. Vandale responded with a smile, adjusting his watch before speaking.

-"Brilliant stuff you have here, my boy! I ain't never seen nothing like it, ever... Tell ya what, I got this side project in Bearstin that looks to be coming along real, real nicely. Work with whoever ya can for now, Tossy, but keep me in mind alright? Can't exactly tell ya what I'm up to but... provided it goes well, you ain't gonna hear about it until I bring you on. Understand?"

Willis stood up from his seat and reached into his pocket, casually pulling out his wallet handing a roll of money across the desk towards Tosling.

-"A little investment for now, Tossy. Work for any of those cats out there for the time being, I know 'em all and they's all fantastic people... just uh, make sure you don't get to working for the DuToit regime. That'd be bad business for everyone involved, believe me... So long my friend."

Tosling smiled and nodded to Vandale, waving his hand before watching him make his way down the hallway and out into the mild Afrikaanzan heat.

Tosling looked at the roll of money that was so generously given to him. He quickly counted his newly found wealth, and thought:
"Damn... he's a big guy."
before returning back to his lab and continuing his work.

_____________________________________________

Harwinsburg, Afrikaanza
December 20th, 1951

A loud crash indicated to the guards that it was their time to shine. In a single file line, they marched into the Harwinsburg Palace Library and took aim at the young man who had been laying battered on the floor. Across from this boy calmly stood Lord DuToit, who cracked his now bloodied knuckles with brutish zeal. He turned and narrowed his eyes at the beaten former... "associate", who screamed with fury towards his attacker.

-"You damn bastard, you're dead! You hear me?! My daddy's gonna be coming after you when he finds out you did this. You ain't gonna live another day as King you lying dirty prick! It's gonna be extremely painful when all hell breaks loose..."

Lord DuToit grabbed a pistol from one of his guards, who presented it in an ornately decorated box. Quickly turning and aiming at his former lover, Lord DuToit uttered the last words he would hear:

-"For you."

BANG

...
...
...

General Edwards stepped out from his office above the library and looked down towards the scene from the balcony.
Annoyed at the violence within the palace that had become a regular occurrence under the DuToit regime, he simply shrugged and stepped back into his office.

-"Excuse the loud noises, Mr. Vandale. Lord DuToit has been more concerned about 'taking care' of his own love affairs, rather than dealing with real ones. Interesting, how he used to be the Minister of Foreign Affairs... Please, continue with your offer though. I am intrigued."

Mr. Vandale nodded and took a shot of hard Afrikaanzan liquor, before restating his intent.

-"Forty of you's supply trucks, no more, no less. Tell me where your boys are going to 'accidentally' misplace the goods and I'll give you twenty percent of what we make."

-"Forty percent for forty trucks, Mr. Vandale."

-"Twenty."

-"Thirty five."

-"General Edwards... I ain't some sort of clown. Workin' with me guarantees you a profit, you workin' with anybody else is a gamble. You get this stuff for free, from the state y'know?"

General Edwards stared sternly at Mr. Vandale.

-"I'm risking my job and my life. How much would you say that's worth?"

Vandale paused for a moment and rolled his tongue against his cheek, annoyed by the hardheaded General who in all actuality was asking for an extremely low price, considering he'd be doing something illegal by agreeing to the arraignment. A thought passed Vandale's mind that forced him to hold back from smiling. He clicked his tongue and priced the General's life at:

-"Twenty seven percent."

-"...."

-"...."

-"... Deal."

by **Rannoria** » Sat Dec 09, 2017 7:08 am

The Crisis at Hand

Every night, arguments kept on occurring between Theodore Arait and Nevers Urander, and every night, it got worst. Soon, news spread out about these arguments, and, soon again, news spread around about how the arguments got more intense, and more dangerous. At one point, both Nevers and Theodore threatened death against each other, and everything started riling up. The arguments, though, were not the only things that riled up. The people started to take sides, and the longer they heard news of the arguments, the people started to get more rowdy, and at times, violent in pubs and other places like such. Nevers knew that these things were happening, but alas, Theodore still wouldn't stop coming his office every night. The one time Nevers tried to reconcile things between them was a drastic failure, and so neither party left the office satisfied. The end of the Great Regional War, although making the people glad, shook the people. Rannoria needed time to recover, which also included the government. Even though Nevers has proven to be a strong leader, people hearing him having fights with one of his trusted advisors did not assure them at all.

As the Great Regional War ended, this post-GRW age saw the rise of more far-left parties. Communists, syndicalists, and the like, started forming parties and gained a lot of popularity within the nation. No one really knows as to why these groups popped up, as Nevers showed to be a calculating and tactical man during the Regional War, though what may give these parties their power is the fact that Nevers' predecessors have ruined the nation at their times of leadership. The post-GRW age also saw the rise of more unsavoury parties, such as the United Syndicates, a party formed by Rannoria's biggest criminal organisations in a ploy to gain more influence. It also saw the introduction of highly reactionary parties, trying to bring Rannoria back into the age of Rannoria's theocracy and the Kader Dynasty. One thing was for certain, though, and that was the fact that Rannoria was not the most stable nation, as history may also tell.

Meanwhile, despite Nevers saying that he would rather get his reforms passed, High Marshal Jakub Felizetert and General Cassel van Heden started preparing for an engagement in the Bearstinian Civil War. Already, they had conferred with Rashid a'Merah, the newly appointed Minister of Foreign Affairs. They had even talked to Nevers himself, who stated that if they did join the war, they would support the new monarchists. Luke Black along with Frederick Wilson were the rightful heirs to the Bearstinian throne, and that some power-hungry daughter should not usurp it.

In the end, the nation might be readying for another war, despite what its already got.

by **Afrikaanza** » Sun Dec 10, 2017 10:20 am

Groenkreek, Afrikaanza
December 22nd, 1951

In a warehouse filled with the stench of gunpowder and the sight of men in ties bearing hardhats while unloading military hardware, a small group comprised only of the most luxurious and prestigious suits in Afrikaanza sat around a mahogany card table. At the head of the table, illuminated by the red and green ambience of Christmas lights, sat Mr. Vandale. Together, this collection of businessmen would scheme up a particularly historical deal while playing a friendly game of blackjack. Some would say that what they were doing was absolutely criminal; but had anyone asked the men who were there, it would've been nothing but a sign of the times. After the Great Regional War, things weren't exactly the same as they were for the businessmen of the past. With a change in leadership, Lord DuToit had essentially screwed over the consumers of Afrikaanza by mandating heavy taxes on the buying of pretty much any product that was imaginable... which made the new boss in charge guilty of a crime the suits just couldn't forgive. Didn't help in his defense either that everyone thought the "Great Lord DuToit" was a massive flamboyant prick too; so some among the group saw this meeting as a sign of rebellion, the start of a letter titled "screw you" in big capital letters to "the man"... whereas the others throwing money on the table saw it as nothing personal, just business. With tons of cash on the line, the proposal was hastily done within the hour. The clicks of the typewriter finally had ceased, and two letters emerged. Both letters were sent out with a mail courier and addressed to a single name. As for the exact contents of the letters and their destination... well, let's just say that there are a few certain people who owe Mr. Vandale many big favors.

Though the end results were uncertain, nobody could ever forget the smug look on Willis Vandale's face that night.
_____________________________________________

Harwinsburg, Afrikaanza
December 23rd, 1951

A man shadowed by his black overcoat and hat walked down the streets of Harwinsburg rather late into the evening. Considering the most recent circumstances of regime change, conditions for a simple midnight stroll were to be considered inadvisable. These conditions not only consisted of the humid rain which descended upon the homeless and publicly executed corpses, but also included the chance to become a victim of the roving Afrikaanzan death squads which stalked the night like hungry wolves. But certainly they left our shadowy figure alone, who happened to hold a place of diplomatic immunity that also granted an additional immunity from bullets too. As he reached the Bearstinian Embassy, now held by the New Monarchy, the shadowy figure quickly stopped and dropped an *outgoing letter* into a public mailbox. Eventually the man entered the warm interior of the embassy and walked up to the front desk. He flashed his credentials to the desk clerk, which identified himself as "Joseph Craine", and asked for a private meeting with Ambassador Cameron Ovit.

About an hour passed before the meeting had actually begun... and even then, the meeting was initially focused on "sweetening up" the Ambassador through a gift of a cigar and a simple conversation about automobiles - a longtime signature of Craine's diplomatic habits. They laughed and jested, but eventually Craine cleared his throat and started to cut to the chase.

-"Mr Ovit, if we may steer off our subject for a moment... It has come to my attention that things are beginning to become a little heated over in the homeland, yes? I'm sure you are starting to wonder how Afrikaanza is going to take part in this whole, dreaded affair; but to that I simply cannot speak clearly on the behalf of Lord DuToit and his intentions - which if I may clarify definitely does infact have leaning towards the real heir to the throne, your King Frederick Wilson. However, there is someone who I can speak for: a man who takes great interest in business with you and your military..."

Joseph paused momentarily to retrieve a business card.
Sliding it carefully across the table for Ambassador Ovit to read, he continued.

-"The gentleman on the card is quite the charismatic businessman. He delivers results quickly and efficiently. I would say that he's willing to open a special deal up for the army, including weapons, ammunition - the works really... though granted, he would need special approval from the right people with the right documents to officialize this sort of thing. I believe the company name my friend is operating under nowadays is Green Creek Contractual Services. If you have any questions or inquiries about this business they are interested in conducting, contact the number on the card. I'm sure you and your superiors will find a good use for them... As for me, I believe my business here is concluded. If you'll so kindly excuse me, I'm having dinner with the kids later this evening..."

Craine stood up and shook Cameron's hand before departing the office, taking one final puff of his cigar as he headed out into the tropical rainstorm of Harwinsburg at night.

"Happy Holidays, Mr. Ovit."
_____________________________________________

Outgoing Letter:
(To Ambassador Vincent Olzek)

by **Bearstin** » Sun Dec 10, 2017 3:36 pm

Harwinsburg, Afrikaanza
December 23rd,1951
In the insulated, mostly overheated Bearstinian Embassy, far away from the brutal war at home, Cameron Ovit, Chief Ambassador to Afrikaanza sat at his desk after a somewhat peculiar meeting. The man had been nice, and they had shared fun stories about automobiles, a love both men shared. He had then moved suddenly to trying to get an under the table weapons deal going. Cameron of course was an honest man, which in politics, was bullshit, so he decided he would inquire.
He dialed the number on the card and within a couple second, someone on the other side picked up. "Thank you for calling Green Creek Contractual Services, whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?" Asked a man on the other end of the line.
"My name is Cameron Ovit. I was referred to you by a man who walked into my office today. I have a couple questions," he answered.

Battle of Riverington
December 24th,1951
As some nations were having lunch and thinking about Christmas, the Bearstinians were waiting for news of victories or defeats. On the morning of December 24th, 1951, the sun had barely peaked above the hills when the sounds of artillery could be heard throughout the city of Riverington. General Xavier Reed stood on the hilltop, far beyond the Artillery with his heavy escort guard as he supervised the battle. The wall was made of strong material, but would fall with ease. The buildings behind the wall were what should be worried about. They were tall, which meant destroying them could impact the buildings around them, but they provided enough cover for a large amount of troops, and may make taking the city harder. And another factor, the city was called Riverington for a reason, it was surrounded by water on all sides. Taking this city was going to be hardest conquest of his career.
Grand Regent Wilson was a brilliant military leader, but he had too much in is head right now. He was taking in too many factors, including approval rating, and it was messing with his decision making. He was paranoid about a civilian assassinating him. They needed to win the war first, then worry about crushing the remaining resistance.
"Relay to the eastern most artillery unit to focus on the eastern walls."
"Sir, doesn't that contradic-" A commander to his right started to say.
"My orders are clear Commander," hissed General Reed, and he took some binoculars out of his pocket and started to asses the damage to the wall.

by **Crimetopolis** » Mon Dec 11, 2017 11:57 pm

The Imperial Warglorian Empire wrote:Wargloria is not the most trusted in the Regional Community at the moment, so we'd probably send some sort of mercenary company to intervene

Crimetopolis will send help....

by **Ruskland-Preuben** » Tue Dec 12, 2017 10:27 am

Usterheim, Ruskland-Preuben

It was a dreary day in that small but quaint suburb, although the skies were dreary, with thick clouds covering the moon, snow falling hard upon the streets and roofs of the town, and a cold, harsh wind blowing, the lights of the abodes in the settlement basked the should be dark area in a warm, happy, yellow light, and the dark billowing clouds from the chimneys of these individual homes, although sooty and black as they were, the red cinders still glowing within them heated up the areas where they went, a welcomed aspect by the homeless, who lived by the alleys near the large factories in the outskirts, where the large clouds of smoke and the coal being burnt inside warmed the areas near the manufactories.

The people didn't leave the streets desolate either, as they roamed about, going to their intended destinations, while others, without any goal in mind, simply enjoyed a walk in the sidewalk, the frigid wind blowing their scarfs to all four cardinal directions. They greeted each other in the streets with warm "Hello's" and "Salutations", spreading camaraderie all over the quaint feudal village turned into quaint manufacturing town.

As we wander about in flying 3rd person view, we come across a small house, its chimney modest, the yard occupied by a dog in a doghouse, and the grass covered by a glistening layer of sky ice. We take a look inside. Why, it is a happy family, a father talking to his children, singing songs and talking, the children listening to their father, playing with each other, and smelling the sweet scent emanating from the kitchen, in which the mother and grandmother occupied, they currently were cooking a delicious ham, as well as some warm and creamy soup, a cake too, was being baked in the oven, its flavor not defined yet, but was going to be a very creamy vanilla.

As the warm and positive emotions radiate from the house, a harbinger of negativity comes in the form of a recruiter. He had a monotonous face, though under that mask was a face of sadness, caused by his recent loss of his twin in the previous war. He hated his job, he hated the feeling of taking away fathers and sons from their loving homes to only thrust them into a disgusting affair of killing other men, who also were taken from their homes, all in the name of the state. But alas, he had a mother to tend to, as well as a kind and beautiful wife, and two young daughters, and so he trudged on in the snow, and into the happy abode which most likely will become a husk of its former self in the coming months.

The door was knocked, the father came, the two exchanged words, a sad face looks at an emotionless but equally as sad face. The father goes back into the home, explaining to the recruiter that he has some words to say to the family. Gasps come from the home, as the mother urges him not to go, but he explains, and slowly the resistance of the mother and grandmother are whittled down to almost nothing. He goes to the children, explaining that he has to go outside the house for quite some time, the children frown, confused and anxious. Where is papa going? What is war? Is it bad? Immediately rush out of their mouths, but the father silences them quickly and softly, and with a soft smile, he tells them: "Everything is going to be okay my little ones.". He changes his clothes after heading up to his and his wife's room, and putting on his trusty hat, he prepares to meet the recruiter outside, only to be stopped at the doorway by his youngest, a bright eyed, black haired son. He asks him, "Why?". And the father answers...

"Sometimes, we are like shooting stars," he intones, "We fall to make somebody else's dreams come true."

And with that, he leaves the home with the recruiter...
The home and the suburbs seem to be a bit duller now...

by **Bearstin** » Tue Dec 12, 2017 3:27 pm

Battle of Riverington: Part 2
December 26th, 1951
After two days of bombardment, the Eastern wall was the first to fall, and General Reed focused his forces their. In the darkest hour of the night, his troops crossed the frozen over river, hoping that it wouldn't crack. At dawn on December 26th, Reed's forces started to shoot at the defenders. It was the highest focus of Aayla's troops and the first wave of Bearstinian forces was cut down. Snipers in the Eastern towers were focusing their fire on the incoming troops, and the enemies artillery now had a clear shot at Reed's troops.
"Commander Venerette," General Reed called, "Do we have any bombers in the air?"
"Yes sir, but the Gra-."
"Will you f-ck off with this Grand Regent crap," scowled General Reed, "if he was here, he would see our forces getting cut down and realize he needs to change strategies."
"Yes sir, I will call them in, it'll probably be an hour. Should we hold off the troops?"
"No, we need a distraction to ensure our bombers get through. Radio the troops and tell them the plan, and get the coordinates of the artillery."
"Yes sir."
"Have our troops focus their attention on the anti-air guns. The more we can take out, the more successful the bombing run will be."
Around an hour later, the struggling troops at the wall heard the roar of engines and looked up to see an armada of bombers heading towards them. Enemy radar had picked them up too late and the enemy fighters were cut down by the bombers fighter escort. What remained of the enemy anti-air guns rained fire on the aircraft and fighter after fighter fell into the city, but the bombers were so far unaffected. The bombs rained down on the artillery and nearby buildings, decimating the artillery unit but damaging the buildings around them too. A couple buildings collapsed on themselves. General Reed was not concerned though. Yes they could have avoided it, but any civilians killed in that incident are in the line of fire and the city should have been evacuated. That was where Frederick struggled, he didn't realize that its not his fault. Yes they could blame him, but if civilians were in those buildings, the local government did a poor job of organizing an evacuation.
"Commander, you may authorize a storming of the city. All forces are a go. If we can capture the airfield on the western side, try to get our bombers and fighters landed there, try to capture any abandoned machinery. Once the city has been secured and the populace controlled, we will move in, but for now, we must remain at the command post."
The commander said nothing and just executed his orders. The Siege of Riverington was a success so far, and victory was all but assured. This was could possibly be quick and easy, and that is just what the Bearstinian people needed.

by **The Imperial Warglorian Empire** » Thu Dec 14, 2017 7:52 pm

Reichschancellery, New Berlin, Warglorian Reich
In the centre of a grand room, sitting at a desk, was Der Führer of the mighty Reich which the capital resided. Führer Heinrich Koberflisch-Allen sat, signing paperwork while thinking to himself. He had to admit, he'd never thought he would make it to Führer, but then again, perhaps it ran in the family? His grandfather was Führer before after that terrible Himmler incident, oh well. His mind also brought him to think about something else: Bearstin (he swore that last time it was called Sylbania). Currently in Civil War, many people expected Wargloria to support Fredrickson because of his military stature, however, that wasn't his aim at the moment.

The Great Regional War showed the Region that Wargloria was not a force to be trifled with, however, the war also resulted in international negotiations taking a down drop, only a few nations now willingly associated with the Reich. What Wargloria needed was influence, and they could establish that starting with Bearstin, Fredrickson would never agree to these terms, he's too intelligent and experienced to do so, however, Queen Aayla Black was both in a desperate situation and inexperienced. And with one of their only allies, Ruskland-Preuben, having interests in Bearstin territory....yes, their alliance would grow.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Koberflisch put on a smile. "Ah! Jack!" Koberflisch exclaimed. An elderly man walked in with a walking stick, an ornate sabre by his side, and a ceremonial officer uniform with several medals on it. "Mein Führer, it is gut to see you again," Suddenly, the elderly man went into a fit of coughs, taking out a handkerchief to cover his mouth. "Same to you Herr Landa," Koberflisch replied with a smile. This was retired war hero Jack Churchill-Landa, adopted son of the famous former Führer and Feldmarschal Hans Landa (Gott rest his soul). After the death of Erwin "The Iron Guardian" Karl, Jack was famed for being the last living man to have lived through the Golden Age of Europa.

The fact that he had supported Koberflisch in his bid for Führer was one of the main factors as to why he was in the position in the first place. "Sit down mein old freund," Koberflisch said, picking up a steaming kettle, "Would you like some tea?"

Emperor's Office, Palas Fomalhaut, R'lyeh, Ruskland-Preuben
A man wearing a suit, holding a suitcase by his side, and a swastika armband attached to his arm, stood outside the Emperor's Office. This was Friedrich Werner von der Schulenburg, diplomatic liaison between Wargloria and Ruskland-Preuben, he had been in the embassy at the time when he received a message from New Berlin itself to contact the Emperor concerning the....situation down south. Being the Ambassador to the country, it was obvious for him to be the one to talk about it.

Finally, a Ruskland Guard went up to Schulenburg. "The Emperor will see you now," the Guard said. Schulenburg nodded and opened the doors, entering the Emperor's office. He saw the man and proceeded to do a small bow, "My Emperor, I have business from Warglorian High Command to discuss with you,"

by **Crimetopolis** » Sat Dec 16, 2017 2:09 am

Fuhrer -President Helmut von Kruger
Government House
Little Chicago
Crimetopolis.

Fuhrer
ReichsChancellory
WarGlorian

Dear Fuhrer.
Crimetopolis offers help with your overseas efforts. As you know, the Panther L Tank with it's 110MM main cannon and 2 ZB50 machineguns has completely reequiped our armored force. We are willing to send you fifty of them for your usage. Addition , we can send you 20,000 barrels of oil monthly, Fifty tons of machine tools, Our newest assault rifle, The Grizzly, is a hybrid of our own, Ruskland-Prueben, and WarGlorian designs . it is in our new .303 Gladius short rifle round. .303 Murakami is now a sniping, machinegun, and hunting caliber. A picture show a Galil that A Ladder and hood ed front ramp sight.

In in return for this aid, we want fifty years no tariff on our trade, and first to business opportunities in zones you annex. Aid will start immediately upon your approval. What say you?

by **Ruskland-Preuben** » Sat Dec 16, 2017 11:01 am

Palas Fomalhaut, Emperor’s Office

The Warglorian ambassador was ushered in by the guard with a quick “The Emperor will see you now.” from him. And inside the ornate office, with bookshelves and works of art by the walls and an ornate chandelier on the ceiling, in the center of an ironwood table, was the ruling emperor, Ordocvai Arron, who was currently reading a newspaper. “My Emperor, I have business from Warglorian High Command to discuss with you.” The ambassador said to him, and with a quick nod of his head he acknowledged the Warglorian talking. “Ah, yes,” he said, monotonously, “About the situation in the south, that too is going south hmm?”. He took a deep breath before placing the paper down, and then he looked at the ambassador , “Well, before you say anything, coffee?” He asked the ambassador, “I assure you, this is Ruskland-Preuben’s finest.”.

First Bearstinian Civil War (FoA Only)

First Bearstinian Civil War (FoA Only)

IC: Enter Crimetopolis

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