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A War on the Continent (IC/FanT/Signups Required)

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
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Phaenix
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A War on the Continent (IC/FanT/Signups Required)

Postby Phaenix » Sun Aug 30, 2020 10:23 am

Image


OOC

Map Room, Imperial Palace

As the Magustyr sent to Kalmarnavia was awaiting an audience with King Jaeharys, Emperor Titus was coordinating a naval invasion at Ushund, a naval base off the coast of Southern Durikad. With him was High Admiral Nonus Hosidius Zoile, High General Numeri Antistium Septimi, and Dyke Skamdar Drakefinger, Dyke of Carburg Isle, the island North of Ushund. The three leaders all surrounded a map, enhanced with magic to allow them to see real-time movements. Dyke Skamdar placed a finger on a Union fleet docked at Ushund.
"If we can destroy these ships, it'll cripple th' Union bastards oan th' Orientis Maur, an' allaw us tae move a fleit tae relieve th' Nrali."
Numeri shook his head, however and pointed to the Southern Durikadi coast.
"That won't work. See all these bases? More than likely one of these has an airship equipped with choppers, and possibly even this 'mechanical dragon' we've been hearing about. I say we launch a full on invasion of the city, allowing us to have a foothold in the South."
Emperor Titus nodded and made a move on the map. Suddenly, at the Imperial port city of Modnicto, the Third Fleet, a hundred and forty-five ships, along with the First Phaerix Marines Regiment, a force of almost fifty-thousand men. Titus nodded and yawned before speaking to the two men.
"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I believe I must rest. Planning into the long hours of the night is tiring."
Numeri bowed while the Dyke just nodded his head as Titus returned to his quarters.


Delkopi, Union Senate House

Premier Salmaan al-Ali raised his hands to quiet the incredibly loud Senate House, which was full of Union senators, lawmakers, and various Federation members. Salmaan spoke in a voice that commanded respect.
"My fellow men and women of the Senate, liubarikuk jalib alfajr."
His fellow Abdulahiqayi returned the greeting, while the Mehmediqayi in the Senate scowled, and everyone else just nodded, not knowing what the Premier had just said. Continuing on, Salmaan gestured to a tall Sayoni standing next to him, elegant in a red kimono, and armed with a sharp, well-honed blade.
"We have the honor to bear witness to Shōgun Ishinomaki Atsuyuki, Shōgun of the Kenshi no Emerarudo Shima for Ten'nō Akidzuki Terumoro, until he comes of age!"
The Senate House filled with polite clapping, as everyone knew that Ishinomaki had no intention of giving up control to Akidzuki when he came of age, just like he had done with the previous Ten'nō. Ishinomaki nodded his head before speaking.
"My allies, we are faced with the grave threat of the Empire! Their decadence, their wastefulness, their lack of regard for life! Their lack of honor! This is why we must destroy them, and destroy them we will! For they are not only savages, but heathens, who worship a strange bird of fire and sacrifice unfortunates to it!"
There were gasps amongst the crowd, but for the most part it was all acting. Human sacrifice had been banned in the Empire for centuries. Continuing, Ishinomaki spoke once more.
"What is worse, is that some of the outside world have sided with the Empire! Therefore, their lives are forfeit! Just here, we have one who sides with the Empire and claims that we are in the wrong!"
Motioning behind him, Ishinomaki stepped aside to allow the crowd to see who was brought before them. Badly bloodied and malnourished, the man hardly looked like the fearsome knight that had accompanied the Prince of Kalmarnavia to the Imperial capital. Ishinomaki laughed and spoke once more.
"This one calls himself a knight! As if such a pathetic creature can have honor! Look upon his face! This is the fate of all the Empire!"
Cheers echoed throughout the Senate House, along with taunting of Ser Gerold, but one man stepped out. After sending a small scroll with the words, "Union has one of your knights. Will attempt to rescue. U," to the King of Kalmarnavia via portal, the man reentered the Senate House to join the taunting.
Last edited by Phaenix on Fri Sep 04, 2020 9:04 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Kalmarnavia » Sun Aug 30, 2020 11:23 am

King Jaeharys sat upon the dragon throne, crumpling the missive received from the agent within the Union in his fist. The bastards, those savage bastards, had captured the commander of his personal guard. He knew Ser Gerold was likely doomed, but he would be avenged.

Argalaic stood at foot of the throne as the Emperor's emissary was ushered in. A hush fell over the crowd of nobles gathered within as two guards escorted him in.

"Father."

Argalaic turned to address the King, his voice boomed through the cavernous throne room.
Jaeharys lifted a hand to bid him speak.

"I have told of the horrors Union forces have unleashed upon the people of the Empire. Emperor Titus needs our aid, aid I assured him would be provided. I urge you now, especially in light of the fate of Ser Gerold, to call your councillors and decide to act. We have the greatest smiths and armourers, our mechanised artillery is the greatest in the world. Our fleets are to be feared. And we are Children of the Blood. "

He went to his knee drawing his sword.

"If you and your Lords in Council wish it be done, I shall lead our armies. Glory, honour and the rights to the riches of the East await us. As the Twelve are my witnesses, Kalmarnavia will have victory!"

A roar went up from the nobles. Argalaic saw Lord Foley and Lord Vasa, his soon to be father by law, raising their swords. His sisters and cousins joined them. One word echoed.

"WAR! WAR! WAR! WAR! WAR! WAR!"

Jaeharys stood, and nodded to his son. He and the rest of the Great Council made for their chamber as the roars rebounded off the stone roof.

Several days later

Ser Dontas stood at the bow of the ship, the spray kicking up into his face. Of all the places he had imagined himself being when he fell off the back of Styrax in the yard of the Kungshallen in Roskilde some three weeks earlier, heading back to Phaenix was at the bottom of the list.

It had taken a full day of debate and sixteen guards to break up the several attempts at fighting each other on behalf of the siblings of House Wend before King Jaeharys announced that he would honour the pledge of his second son, Prince Argalaic, to stand with Emperor Titus. The Crown Prince had taken his wife and his dragon, the great beast Teraxes, and stalked off in a sulk to the Dragon's Keep.

Not that it mattered much. As Argalaic had predicted, a great many of his kin were keen to seek glory in battle. Their army had 12 dragons at its disposal, enough to conquer a sizeable portion of the known world. Dontas looked skywards, and saw Argalaic's own mount Styrax streaking forward. At her tail snapped the great turquoise Chiron- Princess Helena had been the first of the scions of House Wend to draw steel in support of her brother's endeavours. Above them swooped Valerion, a flash of purple on the clouds- Princess Ollena had been next to cast her lot in with Argalaic and Emperor Titus. Casting shadow on the three of them, however, was Victarion. The giant bronze monster had been claimed at last by a new rider whilst Argalaic and Dontas were abroad, the young Prince Raenor (Argalaic's cousin, son of Prince Aaron). Raenor was eager to take his chances to prove himself worthy of his new mount.

The dragons flew riderless, for their riders were scattered across the vast fleet of ships the King and his Lords had dispatched. Close to 250,000 men had answered the call to arms from the standing force raised in the wake of Styrax flying off to find Argalaic, mostly from the forces of House Foley, House Vasa and House Knarlson as well as their vassals. Only 5000 were stood ready in the capital, and were thus sent off as an advance party. The majority of the large army, easily the largest amassed since the Conqueror’s arrival centuries earlier, would follow within weeks. Numerous younger sons had been sent to command their forces, but overall command lay with those of the Blood of House Wend. The men were carried along with their arms and supplies by close to 100 ships and 2 helocarriers, enormous airships which glided through the air providing sport for the dragons to soar above and around. The carriers were only intended as transport, and would make for home once the army was landed.

At the rear of the fleet, dragged through the seas by a fleet of tugs, were the dragon carriers. These enormous floating pens were designed to give the dragons lairs to use while in transit, and the other dragons were housed there avoiding the mid afternoon heat. They were restless and eager to get off the sea.

They were Sunsmoke, the great gold behemoth of Prince Aemond, Argalaic's eldest uncle and second in command. His sons Makar, Radnor and Samson had brought their mounts too- Mermadin whose great white wings reflected the beating sun, Zanthar who was the smallest of the dragons of the army but who's green jaws packed a fierce flame, and Betazar whose blue tinged fire could occasionally be seen firing into the air in frustration. Argalaic's uncle Ajax had also opted to come with his mighty black dragon Starflame. The Princes Viserys and Aegon and their twin silver coloured dragons Romulus and Remus occupied a carrier of their own. Princess Rhaena, only child of the King's sister, had brought her dragon Jacobus- one of medium sized dragons born around a century prior, his cream and gold wings could carry Rhaena at speeds which rivalled Styrax. Lastly was Prince Ajax's daughter Xenia and her pink dragon Orion- whilst she was pink and only slightly larger than Jacobus, Orion was a veteran of a hundred battles of the war against ice pirates.

"We have amassed quite a force, have we not Ser Dontas?"
Dontas turned, and bowed low. Argalaic stood before him in red armour, Prince Aemond and Prince Makar by his side.
"Your Grace, this will be a great and glorious undertaking."

Aemond looked up at the dragons.

"I pray the Twelve grant us three more days of weather like this. We land at dawn four days from now, Dontas Greenbow. We shall be counting on you and your fellow knights to marshal our men as we march to meet the Emperor."
"I thank you again, Prince Aemond and you Prince Makar. As much as Argalaic's word carries weight, I know my place in the chain of command owes much to your trust.

Argalaic clapped him on the shoulder.

"Twelve Hells, Don. Stop flattering these two old cods you've got yourself a command already!"

Makar's hearty laughed boomed off the deck.

"Aye man, you had the reference of a Child of the Blood and an Emperor. You are most worthy."

Aemond turned away.

"Come now Ser Dontas- lunch and warcraft await."

The four of them walked off, as the fleet steamed closer to Phaenix and the war.

The Union Senate Building

Ser Gerold mustered all of his strength and ripped himself free of his guards. He lunged towards the podium knocking the Union Premier aside. He bellowed, his voice hoarse and cracking, into the microphone.

"I am Ser Gerold Hogg, of House Hogg of Leanside Hill, vassals to House Vasa the Lords Paramount of Sethenland. I am Lord Commander of the Knights of the Nine, protectors of His Grace King Jaeharys the First of his Name, King of Kalmarnavia. You will listen to me, if you have any ambitions of seeing the dawn…You know not what is coming for you now. You have stirred more than a hornets nest by attacking an ally of the Dragon Throne. Your cities will burn. Your crops will burn. Your people will burn. Your land will be bathed in fire and blood and our armies will grind the ashes beneath their boots. No magic you possess, no weapon you unleash, shall match what now comes. The Children of the Blood will take all you hold dear. You have missed your chance to negotiate and save yourself from this fate. Dragons do not negotiate. Dragons roar, and you will. All. Burn."
Last edited by Kalmarnavia on Sun Aug 30, 2020 11:24 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Phaenix » Sun Aug 30, 2020 12:35 pm

Kalmarnavia wrote:King Jaeharys sat upon the dragon throne, crumpling the missive received from the agent within the Union in his fist. The bastards, those savage bastards, had captured the commander of his personal guard. He knew Ser Gerold was likely doomed, but he would be avenged.

Argalaic stood at foot of the throne as the Emperor's emissary was ushered in. A hush fell over the crowd of nobles gathered within as two guards escorted him in.

"Father."

Argalaic turned to address the King, his voice boomed through the cavernous throne room.
Jaeharys lifted a hand to bid him speak.

"I have told of the horrors Union forces have unleashed upon the people of the Empire. Emperor Titus needs our aid, aid I assured him would be provided. I urge you now, especially in light of the fate of Ser Gerold, to call your councillors and decide to act. We have the greatest smiths and armourers, our mechanised artillery is the greatest in the world. Our fleets are to be feared. And we are Children of the Blood. "

He went to his knee drawing his sword.

"If you and your Lords in Council wish it be done, I shall lead our armies. Glory, honour and the rights to the riches of the East await us. As the Twelve are my witnesses, Kalmarnavia will have victory!"

A roar went up from the nobles. Argalaic saw Lord Foley and Lord Vasa, his soon to be father by law, raising their swords. His sisters and cousins joined them. One word echoed.

"WAR! WAR! WAR! WAR! WAR! WAR!"

Jaeharys stood, and nodded to his son. He and the rest of the Great Council made for their chamber as the roars rebounded off the stone roof.

Several days later

Ser Dontas stood at the bow of the ship, the spray kicking up into his face. Of all the places he had imagined himself being when he fell off the back of Styrax in the yard of the Kungshallen in Roskilde some three weeks earlier, heading back to Phaenix was at the bottom of the list.

It had taken a full day of debate and sixteen guards to break up the several attempts at fighting each other on behalf of the siblings of House Wend before King Jaeharys announced that he would honour the pledge of his second son, Prince Argalaic, to stand with Emperor Titus. The Crown Prince had taken his wife and his dragon, the great beast Teraxes, and stalked off in a sulk to the Dragon's Keep.

Not that it mattered much. As Argalaic had predicted, a great many of his kin were keen to seek glory in battle. Their army had 12 dragons at its disposal, enough to conquer a sizeable portion of the known world. Dontas looked skywards, and saw Argalaic's own mount Styrax streaking forward. At her tail snapped the great turquoise Chiron- Princess Helena had been the first of the scions of House Wend to draw steel in support of her brother's endeavours. Above them swooped Valerion, a flash of purple on the clouds- Princess Ollena had been next to cast her lot in with Argalaic and Emperor Titus. Casting shadow on the three of them, however, was Victarion. The giant bronze monster had been claimed at last by a new rider whilst Argalaic and Dontas were abroad, the young Prince Raenor (Argalaic's cousin, son of Prince Aaron). Raenor was eager to take his chances to prove himself worthy of his new mount.

The dragons flew riderless, for their riders were scattered across the vast fleet of ships the King and his Lords had dispatched. Close to 250,000 men had answered the call to arms from the standing force raised in the wake of Styrax flying off to find Argalaic, mostly from the forces of House Foley, House Vasa and House Knarlson as well as their vassals. Only 5000 were stood ready in the capital, and were thus sent off as an advance party. The majority of the large army, easily the largest amassed since the Conqueror’s arrival centuries earlier, would follow within weeks. Numerous younger sons had been sent to command their forces, but overall command lay with those of the Blood of House Wend. The men were carried along with their arms and supplies by close to 100 ships and 2 helocarriers, enormous airships which glided through the air providing sport for the dragons to soar above and around. The carriers were only intended as transport, and would make for home once the army was landed.

At the rear of the fleet, dragged through the seas by a fleet of tugs, were the dragon carriers. These enormous floating pens were designed to give the dragons lairs to use while in transit, and the other dragons were housed there avoiding the mid afternoon heat. They were restless and eager to get off the sea.

They were Sunsmoke, the great gold behemoth of Prince Aemond, Argalaic's eldest uncle and second in command. His sons Makar, Radnor and Samson had brought their mounts too- Mermadin whose great white wings reflected the beating sun, Zanthar who was the smallest of the dragons of the army but who's green jaws packed a fierce flame, and Betazar whose blue tinged fire could occasionally be seen firing into the air in frustration. Argalaic's uncle Ajax had also opted to come with his mighty black dragon Starflame. The Princes Viserys and Aegon and their twin silver coloured dragons Romulus and Remus occupied a carrier of their own. Princess Rhaena, only child of the King's sister, had brought her dragon Jacobus- one of medium sized dragons born around a century prior, his cream and gold wings could carry Rhaena at speeds which rivalled Styrax. Lastly was Prince Ajax's daughter Xenia and her pink dragon Orion- whilst she was pink and only slightly larger than Jacobus, Orion was a veteran of a hundred battles of the war against ice pirates.

"We have amassed quite a force, have we not Ser Dontas?"
Dontas turned, and bowed low. Argalaic stood before him in red armour, Prince Aemond and Prince Makar by his side.
"Your Grace, this will be a great and glorious undertaking."

Aemond looked up at the dragons.

"I pray the Twelve grant us three more days of weather like this. We land at dawn four days from now, Dontas Greenbow. We shall be counting on you and your fellow knights to marshal our men as we march to meet the Emperor."
"I thank you again, Prince Aemond and you Prince Makar. As much as Argalaic's word carries weight, I know my place in the chain of command owes much to your trust.

Argalaic clapped him on the shoulder.

"Twelve Hells, Don. Stop flattering these two old cods you've got yourself a command already!"

Makar's hearty laughed boomed off the deck.

"Aye man, you had the reference of a Child of the Blood and an Emperor. You are most worthy."

Aemond turned away.

"Come now Ser Dontas- lunch and warcraft await."

The four of them walked off, as the fleet steamed closer to Phaenix and the war.

The Union Senate Building

Ser Gerold mustered all of his strength and ripped himself free of his guards. He lunged towards the podium knocking the Union Premier aside. He bellowed, his voice hoarse and cracking, into the microphone.

"I am Ser Gerold Hogg, of House Hogg of Leanside Hill, vassals to House Vasa the Lords Paramount of Sethenland. I am Lord Commander of the Knights of the Nine, protectors of His Grace King Jaeharys the First of his Name, King of Kalmarnavia. You will listen to me, if you have any ambitions of seeing the dawn…You know not what is coming for you now. You have stirred more than a hornets nest by attacking an ally of the Dragon Throne. Your cities will burn. Your crops will burn. Your people will burn. Your land will be bathed in fire and blood and our armies will grind the ashes beneath their boots. No magic you possess, no weapon you unleash, shall match what now comes. The Children of the Blood will take all you hold dear. You have missed your chance to negotiate and save yourself from this fate. Dragons do not negotiate. Dragons roar, and you will. All. Burn."

Delkopi, Union Senate House

For a moment no one spoke, until Union Premier Salmaan laughed. The rest of the crowd also began to laugh, and Ishinomaki smirked. A Southern Durikadi envoy stepped forward and spat.
"Yeah, yoo've got dragons, but ur they gart ay metal? Can ye mass produce them? Can they crush soldiers beneath th' feit?"
Salmaan turned to Ser Gerold and grinned.
"My friend, you have a unique honor. You will be the first to see the Harbinger, our dragon."
With that, Salmaan motioned for a man in a white coat to open a large door. Once the door was opened, metallic clanking could be heard, along with the hissing of steam. The crowd gasped when the contraption came into view. Its movements were janky, stiff, but the mech's body was covered in durinian plates, a rare metal found only in Durikad that is ten times stronger then steel, and fireproof. The ten-foot long mech was in the shape of a dragon, and when it stopped it let out a small amount of fire. The crowd cheered and Salmaan turned to Ser Gerold.
"You see? We have dragons, and soon, we will hold Aurania. And then we will look towards your Kingdom. Perhaps we will see how it looks after we burn it to the ground?"
Image


On the Orientis Mare

As the Kalmarnavian forces entered into the Orientis Mare, the Eastern sea of Aurania, they might have heard an SOS over their radios, if they had them.
"This is the Free Trading Ship Lascivibundus! We are under attack by Union privateers, and we can't hold out much longer!" The sound of a door can be heard over the transmission, along with gunshots.
The SOS ends, but the sailor managed to send their coordinates over the radio before communications were lost.
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Kalmarnavia
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Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Kalmarnavia » Sun Aug 30, 2020 12:58 pm

Ser Gerold smiled, his broken teeth still shining brightly. He threw his head back and roared with laughter, shocking the entire room into silence once more.

"That? THAT? That is what you are pinning your hopes on. The foundries of Roskilde and the metallurgists of Sethenland produce self driving artillery pieces bigger than that in their sleep!"

He shuffled forward for a better look.

"I've been inside the Great Stables, deep within the Kungshallen. I've seen piles of dragon shit scarier. You'd need to stack 4 of those nose to tail on top of each other to reach the chin of the smallest ridden dragon. Styrax, Mermadin, Sunsmoke, hell even Chiron and Valerion- they'll take one look at this and flatten it with their paws. You really have no idea what you're dealing with here."

He turned to the Premier, and spat blood in his face.

"I piss on your Harbringer, and so shall Prince Argalaic. Perhaps once he and Styrax have burned this place to the ground he'll show you pictures of Roskilde, of Nine Towers, the Dragons Keep, the Mountains of Frondheim. That's the closest you'll get to our lands."

At Sea

Ser Jason Knarlson, the fifth and youngest son of the Lord of Firecrown and one of the officers on Argalaic's flagship the battleship Conqueror’s Wroth, almost kicked the door to the Officer's Mess off it's hinges.

"Your Grace, we've received a distress signal from a merchant ship under attack by the Union fleet. We can alter course to assist but would need to do so now."

Argalaic looked up from the map he was pouring over.

"Uncle Aemond, is Victarion aloft?"
"No nephew, he returned to one of the carriers some time ago."
"Splendid."

Argalaic looked at the young noble.

"Ser Jason, you have my permission to direct a cruiser and two destroyers to make for the scene. And signal my cousin... Raenor, that is I recognise there are a few here. Let him have first blood, it's a chance to price himself.


Within moments, one of the heavily armed cruisers and two destroyers peeled off from the fleet. From their mainmasts flew the flag of Kalmarnavia but flapping below on its jet black sea was the golden kraken on House Knarlson. A roar shattered the sea air. Victarion took to the skies, his gigantic bronze wings pulling him higher. On his back clad in red armour was Prince Raenor. 17 years old with a clean shaven face and cropped red hair, Raenor had managed to claim the oldest still battle worthy dragon in House Wend's possession. This was his first opportunity to prove himself worthy of the bronze beast, known to history as The Scourge.

Within an hour and only a few miles ahead of the ships escorting him, Raenor spied the smoking merchant ship surrounded by sleek Union cruisers. He smiled, and whistled.

Victarion gave a great shaking roar, and lurched forward into a dive over two of the Union ships. About a hundred feet up, Victarion opened his massive jaws, and flame as black as night to tinged with amber fire poured forth.

The great guns of the ships started pounding away, dropping heavy explosive shells on the other Union ships.

The first Kalmarnavian intervention in the war had begun.
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Moralistic Democracy

Postby Atlantian Dominions » Sun Aug 30, 2020 1:31 pm

On the Mare Novissimum

The Mercy of Jesus had made one journey to Phaenix, with a hull full of cargo and two important dignitaries. It had sat in the harbor of Phaerix while a battle raged around it, and the two dignitaries had similarly passed the chaotic events of the wedding doing little beyond trying to stay alive and away from the fighting. Adam Barber had done his job as a Gunslinger and protected John Henry Primrose, but the situation had rapidly escalated and gotten vastly...weirder. So the two Atlantians had stayed out of sight until things had settled down, and then the heir to the Primrose family business had done what he'd been sent by his father to do. He'd negotiated for the entrance of International Traders from the Atlantian Dominions to the ports of the Empire, to buy and sell goods. Then he'd departed aboard the Mercy of Jesus. The ship had returned to Grand Harbor, sold off its cargo of foreign exotics, and loaded up again with more goods to sell in the port of Phaerix. War was good for business, after all.

War also meant risks, however. The Mercy of Jesus was armed with a number of 3-inch Mitz guns for defense against pirates, but these were rarely used and the crew only barely trained in their operation. A large ship such as the Mercy could not rely on speed, and the Primrose family had decided that arming the ship more thoroughly would be too expensive and time-consuming, so its captain had to simply hope that the Imperial Navy had the sealanes under control, or that their enemies would do no more than relieve the vessel of its cargo if they decided to violate the neutrality of the Atlantian flag.
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Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Phaenix » Sun Aug 30, 2020 1:44 pm

Kalmarnavia wrote:Ser Gerold smiled, his broken teeth still shining brightly. He threw his head back and roared with laughter, shocking the entire room into silence once more.

"That? THAT? That is what you are pinning your hopes on. The foundries of Roskilde and the metallurgists of Sethenland produce self driving artillery pieces bigger than that in their sleep!"

He shuffled forward for a better look.

"I've been inside the Great Stables, deep within the Kungshallen. I've seen piles of dragon shit scarier. You'd need to stack 4 of those nose to tail on top of each other to reach the chin of the smallest ridden dragon. Styrax, Mermadin, Sunsmoke, hell even Chiron and Valerion- they'll take one look at this and flatten it with their paws. You really have no idea what you're dealing with here."

He turned to the Premier, and spat blood in his face.

"I piss on your Harbringer, and so shall Prince Argalaic. Perhaps once he and Styrax have burned this place to the ground he'll show you pictures of Roskilde, of Nine Towers, the Dragons Keep, the Mountains of Frondheim. That's the closest you'll get to our lands."

At Sea

Ser Jason Knarlson, the fifth and youngest son of the Lord of Firecrown and one of the officers on Argalaic's flagship the battleship Conqueror’s Wroth, almost kicked the door to the Officer's Mess off it's hinges.

"Your Grace, we've received a distress signal from a merchant ship under attack by the Union fleet. We can alter course to assist but would need to do so now."

Argalaic looked up from the map he was pouring over.

"Uncle Aemond, is Victarion aloft?"
"No nephew, he returned to one of the carriers some time ago."
"Splendid."

Argalaic looked at the young noble.

"Ser Jason, you have my permission to direct a cruiser and two destroyers to make for the scene. And signal my cousin... Raenor, that is I recognise there are a few here. Let him have first blood, it's a chance to price himself.


Within moments, one of the heavily armed cruisers and two destroyers peeled off from the fleet. From their mainmasts flew the flag of Kalmarnavia but flapping below on its jet black sea was the golden kraken on House Knarlson. A roar shattered the sea air. Victarion took to the skies, his gigantic bronze wings pulling him higher. On his back clad in red armour was Prince Raenor. 17 years old with a clean shaven face and cropped red hair, Raenor had managed to claim the oldest still battle worthy dragon in House Wend's possession. This was his first opportunity to prove himself worthy of the bronze beast, known to history as The Scourge.

Within an hour and only a few miles ahead of the ships escorting him, Raenor spied the smoking merchant ship surrounded by sleek Union cruisers. He smiled, and whistled.

Victarion gave a great shaking roar, and lurched forward into a dive over two of the Union ships. About a hundred feet up, Victarion opened his massive jaws, and flame as black as night to tinged with amber fire poured forth.

The great guns of the ships started pounding away, dropping heavy explosive shells on the other Union ships.

The first Kalmarnavian intervention in the war had begun.

Delkopi, Union Senate House

Premier Salmaan scowled and used a handkerchief to wipe the blood from his face.
"You should not have done that."
The Premier looked at the man in the white coat and nodded. The man pulled out a rod and aimed it at Gerold, causing the Harbinger to rear back its claws, revealing razor sharp talons, and swung, intending to rip the knight to shreds.

On the Orientis Mare

The two Union ships that Victarion attacked first were caught off-guard, and their crews desperately sought to jump overboard, but none survived as the fire ignited the ships' magazines, causing an enormous explosion that threw shrapnel into the air. The two other ships, faced with overwhelming numbers, sought to take Victarion down, and began firing flak at the dragon, while opening fire on the Kalmarnavian ships with their two four-inch guns. The merchant ship, seeing a chance to escape, began limping away towards Carburg Isle, a day away from its current position and sight of the Imperial assault on Ushund.

Shatharhur, Carburg Isle

Legatus Opiter Camillius Salinatori sat in his tent, furiously writing a response to a letter from his cousin, when he heard someone enter. Looking up, he saw that it was a member of the Third Fleet. The man said nothing, so Opiter spoke first.
"Well, what is it? Can't you see I'm bu-"
"It's gone."
Opiter froze before probing farther.
"What's gone?"
The sailor sank to the floor and began shaking.
"The entire Third Fleet. Not a single ship survived. We had almost annihilated their fleet, when a metal wyrm or something began jumping from boat to boat, tearing into it and killing men. I only survived because a shell blew me into the water."
Opiter sunk into his chair. Without the Third Fleet, the simple invasion of Ushund could be turned into a massacre, as the First Phaerix Regiment would be forced to cross the Carburg Strait on rafts and landing boats, without naval supremacy. Dismissing the sailor, Opiter wrote up a telegram and sent it to the naval base in Prelibani, asking for the Second Fleet, almost two-hundred ships in all, to assist them, but he knew the telegram would not arrive for days, and the fleet for a month.

On the Mare Novissimum

As the Mercy of Jesus passed the port city of Talint in Northern Rhoda, two Union cruisers approached the ship, weapons at the ready. The captain of the first, the name Pomsta painted on the side, shouted over to the merchant vessel.
"State your name and business, along with your cargo and where you are headed."
As the captain said this, a small boat with ten Rhodari gendarmerie pulled up alongside the Mercy of Jesus and began to board it.
"Failure to cooperate with officials will be considered an act of espionage, and you will be shot."
Roma Aeterna!

PRO: Autocracy, secularism, socialism, meritocracy, freedom of speech
ANTI: Electoral College, Trump, Democrats, Republicans, Nazism, imperialism, libertarianism, communism, CCP

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Kalmarnavia
Attaché
 
Posts: 88
Founded: Jul 10, 2020
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Kalmarnavia » Sun Aug 30, 2020 1:58 pm

Ser Gerold flung himself backwards as the claws of the Harbinger ripped through his shirt and left fresh cuts on his stomach. Blood started oozing out as he headbutted one guard, booted the other in the unmentionables and looped his bound wrists over the neck of the stunned Shogun.

"Call it off or he dies, Premier."

Off the coast of Carburg Isle

The captain of the Unending Storm, the cruiser sent with Raenor and Victarion, ordered the ship to port so as to bring all 6 45mm cannons to bear. They roared into action with a full broadside against the remaining Union ships as the destroyers moved to defend the retreating merchant ship.

Victarion roared with discomfort- the flak had no hope of getting through the thick scales of his underbelly but they were causing pain. Unbidden he swooped down, forcing Raenor to grab his saddle lines tightly. Victarion poured flame onto one of the ships before grasping the superstructure of another with his taloned front paws. He pulled him, hammering away with his wings and hauled the small cruiser out of the water before dropping it down again. Raenor whistled in a low pitch, and Victarion swooped down for yet another pass.
Scottish and European
The great appear great because we are on our knees: Let us rise. James Larkin
Men perish, but principles live. James Connolly

Black Lives Matter, Trans Lives Matter

Trans Rights Are Human Rights


Alba gu Brath, Erin go Bragh, Cymru am Byth, Visca Catalunya

¡No Pasaran!
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Alegeharia
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1899
Founded: Jul 20, 2013
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Alegeharia » Sun Aug 30, 2020 2:52 pm

Somewhere in Alegeharia



The king was visiting one of his older hangars and military barracks. It was a site to behold, despite all the advanced technology and magic they had at their disposal, these machinations were from a time that seemed out of place. Malik inspected the name plates gathering dust, having to blow on a few of them to read them. Indeed, this were out of time, as they came from a different era that his kingdom has never witness, at least not officially.

A messenger disturbed the royal tour of the military equipment as a letter came in. It was time for another era his kingdom would hopefully skirt by. He nodded at his messenger and drew runes in the air using his enochian powers to teleport to the war council. The war council was a sleek room it was completely different from the medieval walls his country was familiar with. Here it was sterile, white, and had monitors everywhere. Inside here was almost a new world entirely. He walked over the table and used a step stool get up to a better height.

Malik pressed a few invisible buttons on the table creating several holographic images, it was a profile of each team member he had assigned to himself. He clicked each button on the image to call them in, first Aither, his brother; Robert, an “indentured” demon; Valen, his old teacher, and finally Thorik, a great friend and bigger drunk, Alecia’s personal guard. He waited in his highchair till the others came to discuss what was happening.

As the group came trickling in Malik was pressing holo buttons and bring up different maps, plans, and intel, anything they had on the situation. He waved as each on came in looking suspiciously at Robert.



Malik:
Image

“Robert…” Malik started eying him harder. “Just because this is war does not mean you will get to go wild here, we must respect wartime laws and rules.” Before Robert could interject he pressed on with the meeting showing the visuals with the holo display. “As you know, Valens lil’ trio is already there with god knows who, if Valen gives you some sort of indication please be aware there might be a friendly in that group.” Malik Pointed to a small section of HVTs “Here we have my friend Arge, the emperor, and the Asianic empire. There is also the opposing team calling themselves the Union, I don’t have much info on them I do apologize for that.

He paused some as he looked at the map. Thinking about powers, Valen and Thorik, were the only “Normal” people he knew, Thorik was completely human, but he sure held his own against the unnatural; Valen however is an owl, he can fly and has done much maritime battles, but he had stayed away from supernatural fights, it worried him some. “Aither, Robert, there is another demon out there, Aither you know who I am talking about, Robert…” He sighed. “Robert this demon is different, he is about as chaotic as you, but he is not ‘bad’, he certainly does not wreak havoc ‘just cause’.

Malik paused before moving on. “Aither, since you are our, military commander, you will be posted with me, I will copilot your plane and we will meet up with the prince and the emperor.” He turned to the bird. “Take the old war ships and link up with asianic boats. We might have to expand the river, or have them transported over to Coastal Ridge, but we got to get these rustbuckets wet sooner.” He finally turned to Robert and Thorik huffing. “You guys… Thorik… Jeeze…”

Malik hopped out of the chair, it was almost as tall as he was. “Thorik find us a small city, start fortications and create a defendable neutrals and refugees. “Robert, take some explosives, and create diversions around the area. You and Thorik make use of the tanks, and start creating some no man’s land for Aithers ground forces to start breaking grounds for trenches.”




Malik and Aither were geared up and ready for take off, their plane escorts were set up and ready to go as well, the naval units were either on transports or already set to sea enroute with the infantry. The rest of the planes were getting set up, but should be able to be in the area shortly. He softly chanted in enochian to make a portal start growing, this use of the power was draining cause he was not a portal maker, he was a magical fighter and this was technically out of his scope, but he managed to sustain it for a long enough time to get his plane and 4 others through before it shut down.




Aither:
Image

Flying through portals was crazy, but thankfully his air team was trained in such tight conditions, they had wrapped up tight in a single line, slowly expanding outward once crossing expanding into a tradition ‘V’ formation spreading out some more, with alternating altitudes to make for harder targets. He looked over to malik, he was asleep, tired from the extra exertion. Aither sighed, he hated the thought of such a young thing going to war but it was his kingly duty, to protect his allies, they landed on the authorized war strip taxing to the approved hangar before he gently shook Malik letting him know they were ready.

Aither hopped out of the plane first, leaning against the warmed metal as he waited for the welcoming party, he pulled out a 1911, holstering it to his hip, and grabbed an 1903 Springfield slinging it across his chest, holding passively a BAR M1918. He also had a sword attached and strapped down to his left side. He knocked the side of the plane again smirking at an angry bark to let him know he was awake.



The rest of the Alegeharian forces were making way over to the conflict with staggering effects. Valens naval fleet made it over to a place called Carburg Isle, the owl sighed seeing the flag with his telescope belong to the phearix, his submarine team confirmed friendly targets and they approached, hailing the island over the radio.

Robert and Thorik had “commandeered” a transport boat with a small convoy, making ground somewhere, they sent the ships back to the main fleet as they started fortifying the landing point, they would take care of finding a city later but for now they needed to figure out where they were. Robert took first shift of watching looking at the different formations and geography, they set up on some of the higher rocks, and set more men in the bushes on the lower ground, setting a few more to be on flanking areas. He joined the “ground” team that had created a choke point on the road coming to their area and waited.
Leader Information:
Name: Malik Donovan Velkari
Age: 8 years old
Height: 4 Foot 3
Colors: Beige w/Gold, and Dark Red
Species: Tescorosso
Appearance: Here
Specials: Magical / Weapons
Story Information:
Country: Alegeharia
Politics: Democratic Kingdom
Current Time: Modern
Mottos:
Alegeharia wrote:"Il Tempo Reclama Tutto." - "Time Claims All"
Velkari wrote:"L'amore Resiste A Tutti" - "Love Endures Everythingl"
Leaders Equipment:
Head: Red Hood, Leather straps on top
Torso: Leather Curiass/Metal Strips
Hands: Leather Gloves
Legs: Knee-Cut Slacks
Paws: Leather Boots
Wings: Bare
Tail: Bare
Weapons:
Short Sword
Standard Sword
Crossbow
Hidden Blades

User avatar
SF n F
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1043
Founded: Jan 16, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby SF n F » Sun Aug 30, 2020 3:07 pm

"You ready, brother?" the former demon asked.

Brother Flatus smiled. "Of course...and to think that you were once a diplomat for the Abyss."

As with most of the office space within the Etherial Realm, this Operations Chamber was made from the inside of a cloud. Damnage still wasn't completely used to literally walking on air, but he did have to admit that there was nothing softer on the feet than a fluffy carpet of vapor. Etherial Mages were good enough to sculpt virtually any room from the stuff, and they could easily make it bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. Hence the 20-meter expanse, complete with waiting chairs against the back wall and a sunbeam portal in the center of the room.

"Mmmmm," Damnage said, a bit of amusement creeping into his voice. "Are you sure you go there? I mean, I could tell some stories..."

"Bet you could. But no, I just wanted to point out that your handling of your last assignment was noticed. You did good."

"Well, thanks, but it isn't really over yet. There's a war brewing down there and--."

"We've been over this," Brother Flatus cut in. "We don't DO wars."

"Just listen to what the Emperor has to say about that. I know I couldn't convince you, but...just give him a few minutes."

"Yeah. I know. We've had this conversation a dozen times."

Damnage smiled.

"Alright, kiddies, time to take it downstairs." This was from another Angel, Brother Buzby, who made the portals go. Buzby was a short, bespectacled Angel, with a mop of dark hair that made the thick black frame of his glasses disappear as they reached back into his head.

"Right," the other two said in unison.

They stood side-by-side and, as a safety precaution, spread their wings and joined hands. And Damnage closed his eyes.

It was the only way he could keep from being blinded. Somewhere in the roof, a small hole opened up and down came a sunbeam. Damnage's eyes were tuned for a nocturnal existence--had he kept them open, it would have been some hours before he could see again once he reached the far end of the portal. Flatus didn't have this problem. So, unlike the Angel, Damnage could only feel the air waft around his body and the ground become more firm under his feet as he and his companion appeared--it seemed like out of nowhere to the people at

Empire of Phaenix, Imperial Palace, Throne Room

Damnage and Brother Flatus each took a knee just after they materialized. As they did, the security came down from the high alert that they had assumed moments before—all but one, anyway. One of them was young and had not witnessed the events of the previous week or two. His supervisor quickly corrected him, however.

“Put it down, Toidi.”

“But that's a...”

The seargent laughed. “And if you'd seen him a week ago, you'd be glad.”

By then, initial pleasantries had been exchanged, including a greeting gift from the Etherial Realm: a monicle which, when worn, could distinguish not just truth from lies, but fine shades of disingenuity. It was simple in appearance—a silver ring with a lense—but it was so well-made as to be priceless. It spoke of the respect that not just Damnage, but his higher-ups in the Etherial Realm felt for the Emperor.

“This is Brother Flatus,” Damnage was in the middle of saying, “my immediate supervisor.” Some of the guards chortled at the mention of the Angel's name. This prompted a hissing sound to issue forth from Flatus, soon after which the throneroom began to take on a slight odor of the finest lavender purfume to be found in the Empire. “Let me be blunt: we're at an impasse. I've seen some of the things that this Union you're squaring off against has done, and I say we should commit to direct support in this war. Flatus wants to remain neutral, provide humanitarian aid and leave it at that. But I've seen the way that you can motivate, and that's why I've managed to get my boss here to have the authority to speak for the Realm on this matter. Please, your majesty, what can you tell him that will sway his heart?”

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Atlantian Dominions
Envoy
 
Posts: 337
Founded: Sep 04, 2012
Moralistic Democracy

Postby Atlantian Dominions » Mon Aug 31, 2020 8:40 am

Phaenix wrote:As the Mercy of Jesus passed the port city of Talint in Northern Rhoda, two Union cruisers approached the ship, weapons at the ready. The captain of the first, the name Pomsta painted on the side, shouted over to the merchant vessel.
"State your name and business, along with your cargo and where you are headed."
As the captain said this, a small boat with ten Rhodari gendarmerie pulled up alongside the Mercy of Jesus and began to board it.
"Failure to cooperate with officials will be considered an act of espionage, and you will be shot."

Aboard the Mercy of Jesus
"Captain! Ships starboard!"

Captain William Moore turned, and followed the outstretched pointing arm of the deck hand to the horizon. Sure enough, two vessels were bearing down on the International Trader ship, and though he could only see their outlines at this distance they did not have the look of freighters or pleasure craft. Captain Moore called for a spyglass and his first mate pressed one into his waiting hand. Sure enough, those were warships. William Moore had not served in the Navy, and had little understanding of the terminology that differentiated one type of warship from another, but he marked their size and speed and guessed that these were ships designed for pursuit, not the big blundering battleships that always took up so much room when they docked in Grand Harbor. And he dimly recalled seeing the same flag fluttering from the ships of the armada that had stormed into Phaerix harbor not too long ago.

"Can we outrun them, Mister Halloway?"

"If they're steam, then we ain't got a chance, cap'n." The ship's helmsman had a faced of grim concern.

"Very well." Moore collapsed the telescope and handed it back to the first mate. "Sound the alert," he ordered. "Man the guns and break open the armory." Then he turned back to the helm. "Bring us to stop, Mister Halloway! Let's see what these heathens want from us."

The Mercy of Jesus came to a gradual stop as its crew rushed to a crude approximation of battle stations. The men who had been trained on the Mitz guns hurried to their positions, while a small armory provided a handful of other sailors with Army surplus carbine repeaters and pistols. Captain Moore loaded his own personal revolver, locked the chamber into position, and strode to the gunwhale of the ship and listened to the shouted commands from the captain of the Pomsta.

"We are merchants, sailing for Phaenix under the Atlantian flag," Moore replied, his shouting amplified to cross the distance between the ships with a brass megaphone. "We carry no warlike stores. You may come aboard to inspect our wares but I warn you that my country will not tolerate any harm to its citizens or ships."
The Confederation of Atlantian Dominions
Using Past Tech in Modern Tech RP
My nation can be referred to as "the Atlantian Dominions" or "Atlantia"
Red Dead Redemption & Red Dead Redemption 2, Bastion, Julian Comstock: A Story of 22nd-Century America by Robert Charles Wilson, Fitzpatrick’s War by Theodore Judson, The Peshawar Lancers by S.M. Stirling, The Stand by Stephen King

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Shwe Tu Colony
Senator
 
Posts: 4227
Founded: Sep 27, 2016
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Shwe Tu Colony » Mon Aug 31, 2020 2:15 pm

Announcement of Support

Jhora Mendica and Pedro Rafir
Psytronius
Golden Capital
10 Desyllians (maximum safety | OOC: Must be OOCly agreed upon)

To: Emperor Titus

We will keep our introductions brief: while we here in Psytronius are displeased with your system of slavery, we are equally unwilling to side with those who attack our own Domeses. As such, we will later work with your civilization to help remove this, but for now, we will only employ Golems wherever we operate, who, rest assured, will far outpace the abilities of any slave, so that your populace will be able to focus on their own endeavors while we manage incoming refugees and soldiers without draining your resources. While our Golemancy is unable to integrate well with other civilizations' magic and worlds and thus can not replace large-scale agricultural operations, we will nonetheless aim to improve your native systems following the war's conclusion, whether by improving your Golemancy or giving vocational training to your lower social classes.

Our goal, as always, is ensuring sustainable peace and prosperity for as many as we can. With the altruism of the Parfuhmerians on our side, do entrust us with these duties. Do inform us where you wish for us to be. As our duties will primarily be in managing refugees and the like, we would prefer to have a position nearby a major road, so that we can help them rest en route to safer positions or otherwise care for them. Rest assured that we will be able to supply and protect ourselves, as we will be linking a portal to our realm; we will deal with the consequences if this goes poorly. Below is our list of units.

Psytrine Forces
Psytrine Expeditionary Platform: A floating stone circle with a Dometic Reactor in the bottom, used to supply more magical energy for when the Psytrines must venture out to Foreign realms.
Psytrine Eglantyne Baestia, Domeses Arsum of Genetics and the Domeses Polikun of The Youth, The Hearth, and The Heart.
Psytrine Keiunkan M. Bellhop, Domeses Arsum of Earth and Domese Polikun of Hospitality.
Psytrine Kaspar Poppy, Domeses Arsum of Medication and Domeses Polikun of Health.
Psytrine Elijah Phee Loew, Domeses of Dollmaking, alongside his servants My Saccharine Prince, The Fragrance Series, My Scout, My Glorious King, My Endless Domain, My Soul's Infinite Mirror, My Father's Suspended Wishes, and Aericree Daws.
Caleb, the Domeses Polikun of Fiber Production.
100x basic Golems.

Parfuhmerian Forces
Parfuhmerian Store. This will be adjacent to the platform, and will aid in supplying food, drinks, and other such amenities to refugee, foreigner, and soldier alike.
Gravity-Sorceress Coszcatl.
Warden-Bishop Richelieu.
Parfuhmerian MV Crossbar, Rank 4 Assassin. Also a humanitarian-aid worker.
Gorzvora "Vargas" Kra'at. Leader of the Hound Gang and pharmacist.
Katyu Za'v, Diplomat of Geshrigu. Specialized in sniping.
3x medics.
10x rank-3 Assassins.

Other
Baerwan Chun-Kodama of Huang-Penglai. Skirmisher/scout/arborist.
5x Driadic Ranger Captains. Skirmishers/scouts/arborist.
Nor Su-Xiāo of Huang-Penglai. Skirmisher/scout/mycologist
5x Purple Ranger Captains. Skirmishers/scouts/mycologists.
Bo Yīng-Guzhei of Huang-Penglai. Musician.


Image

Image

Image
Cherissime amis! Behold, Shwe Tu Colony/World Machine, the paracosm of a spoiled brat, taking everything, sparing nothing, mingling the childhood incroyable with the angst of a teen lad.
Current status: "Honing one’s abilities through rivalry… no, through strife, to attain the best answer. Repeating that, and evolving into a much more wonderful being. I think that’s something to be affirmed. No—that’s a natural desire all living beings hold. But it all makes me sad. If stagnation equals death, and it’s all living being’s fate to bite at each other and kill… Then I want to escape…"The summer grass is getting in the way
Extension

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Phaenix
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 364
Founded: Jun 19, 2020
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Phaenix » Mon Aug 31, 2020 2:55 pm

On the Mare Novissimum

The captain of the Pomsta scowled, and made a motion to the gendarmerie on the Mercy of Jesus.
"Since you are taking goods to that disgusting land they call an empire, we'll have to take a tax, of say, half of all your goods."
The gendarmerie began to move boxes of Atlantian wares from the merchant ship to their boat, growling at any crew who stepped in their way. The captain of the Pomsta smiled.
"And let me remind you. This tax will support the Union and the Federation in bringing freedom and democracy to the continent!"

Throne Hall, Imperial Palace

Emperor Titus, who had been playing with his pet direwolf puppy, promptly placed the pup on the floor and cleared his throat.
"Ah, yes. The Union. While I am...unknowledgeable in the politics and policies of the Etherial Realm, I am sure you will agree that what the Union and its allies do in the name of progress is down right cruel."
Emperor Titus stood and began to pace in front of his throne, occasionally stopping to pet his pup.
"Well I will not claim to be perfect, aye, I've been ruthless at times, but the Union seems to have no moral compass. They crush souls, denying those they subject to their experiments places in the afterlife, capture souls to power the constructs, enslave crews of neutral freighters, and seem to completely disregard the basic rights of mankind. The Empire is not perfect, that I will not deny, but surely a realm that regularly uses its subjects as nothing more than guinea pigs is flawed beyond repair."
Stopping, Titus turned to Flatus and gave a small half-bow, an immense sign of respect from one declared an almost living god.
"So I beseech you, Brother Flatus, will you assist me in ending this horrific threat?"

Eastern Carburg Isle, Statio Vigilia Orientis

Sergeant Gordius Luctacus was drinking a steaming hot cup of capulus, a drink that would prevent him from dozing off, when the radio buzzed, causing him to spill the drink all over his legs. Cursing, the sergeant answered the radio.
"This is Sergeant Gordius Luctacus, First Phaerix Marines Regiment, Fourth Cohort of the Tenth Legion of the Exercitus Coetus Orientalem. Who am I speaking with?"

Delkopi, Union Senate House

The Harbinger was about to strike once more, about to cut through Ishinomaki, when Salmaan raised his hand, allowing the metal creature to sniff it. Now that it had loosened up, the Harbinger could almost pass for a living creature. Once it had finished sniffing Salmaan's hand, it sat like a dog. Ishinomaki laughed, or tried to, and spoke.
"Go ahead, savage. Kill me. It will not save you from the Union's scientists, from the Durikadi metallurgists, from the Rhodari firing squad. Kill me. I will be happy to witness the torments the scientists put you through to see if they can create a metal man, for the metallurgists to take bits of you away and replace it with metal, for the firing squad to kill you. Kill me, or submit. You might even get to live if you just surrender now."
The hall was quiet. No one spoke, and no one moved. They all were waiting to see how Ser Gerold would react.

Off the Coast of Carburg Isle

The Union ship smashed into the water, splintering and sending its crew to the deep. The final ship, deciding it wished to live, fled at full speed, rapidly vanishing from sight as its engines almost exploded from the duress. The merchantman came over the radio once more.
"Thank you, strangers. If you had come a second later, we'd be at the bottom of the Mare Orientis."

Response to Letter of Support

To: Jhora Mendica of Psytronius
From: Camerarius Lartem Auxentius Vorenius, on behalf of His Imperial Majesty Emperor Titus Helvius Venatius

His Imperial Majesty has asked me to convey his thanks and to accept your offer of support. He has gifted you the hinterlands surrounding the Imperial capital, a collection of plains and farmland, as you main operating base. Any other requests should be directed to the Ministerio Achaici Morsus Mihi.

Ut ad regnum suum victrix augebat Imperii!


Shatharhur, Carburg Isle

A small contingent of marines approached Malik and Aither's plane. Their leader nodded his head and spoke over the torrential downpour.
"Your Majesty, Your Highness, please follow me to the Legatus!"
As thunder cracked in the sky, the captain spoke once more.
"And I'd suggest we hurry! This rain is coming down hard!"
Roma Aeterna!

PRO: Autocracy, secularism, socialism, meritocracy, freedom of speech
ANTI: Electoral College, Trump, Democrats, Republicans, Nazism, imperialism, libertarianism, communism, CCP

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Kalmarnavia
Attaché
 
Posts: 88
Founded: Jul 10, 2020
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Kalmarnavia » Mon Aug 31, 2020 3:49 pm

Off the coast of Carburg Isle

Raenor briefly thought about giving chase, but seeing the ships peel off to rejoin the fleet he opted against it. Victarion roared in triumph, circling over the burning splintered wrecks and the dying men in the water. It was a triumphant display, designed to let any Union forces nearby see the fate that awaited them should they dare challenge a dragon.

Eventually, Raenor gave a high whistle and Victarion pulled up and away into the clouds, making for the ships.

Argalaic stood on the open deck and watched as Victarion soared into view as he rounded one of the floating pens. He smiled, grabbing the metal rails tightly.

"A first victory. Minor as it may be, it is a crucial step. The Union will now tremble at our power."

Aemond and Makar frowned.

"Nephew it was a few ships, not a full battalion of well armed Rodari riflemen. It is a significant signal of our power true but sinking a few privateers won't win this war. We had best direct our forces to this Carburg place, it seems an ideal staging point for early intervention in the war."

Dontas nodded.

"It's true, Arge. It may not be large enough for our whole army when it arrives but it will serve as a starting point. We can use it to establish a beachhead and strike right at the heartlands of the enemy."

Argalaic turned.

"The die is cast then... Signal the fleet. We make landfall at Carburg. I want every dragon and rider prepped once wr have established a camp. We must plan our early strikes."

Aboard the carrier

Chiron and Valerion snarled and retreated from Victarion as he prowled their shared lair. Raenor strode up the stairs to the small superstructure housing his and his cousin's quarters. They were not as well appointed as the Dragon's Keep or Kungshallen, but they were no doubt comfier than the living arrangements that awaited.

"Ah! The hero returns!" Ollena sprung off the divan she had been sprawling out on and rushed to meet her younger cousin. Her golden silk dress flailed in the air as she hugged Raenor, her long red hair catching in his mouth.

*Pffddt... Thanks, Lena. It was a rush... Seeing those savages burnt by Victarion's flame. The Twelve bless me, I long to burn the enemy again."

A small laugh came from the corner of the room. Princess Helena was garbled in brown breeches and a loose white shirt, her long red braid down her back, cleaning her bolt action rifle.

"It was what, a handful of ships? When can we anticipate the surrender ceremony? Feet on the ground, Rae, like we told you. We've only just begun."


The Union Senate

Gerold tightened his grip on the Shogun.

"Surrender?? I am a Knight of the Nine, I am the premier knight in all Six Realms. I know what fate awaits me, you savage dog, and that fate is the warm embrace of The Father Above. He has blessed me all my years. The mercy of the Mother, the kindness of the Maiden, the guiding light of the Mage will welcome me. The Warrior guarded me, the Sage guided me through life. The Smith forged me, the Scribe wrote me a story of precise and just length. The Ploughman fed me and watered me all my days. The Riverman channeled blessed life giving water whenever I asked. And now, if the One Below sends the Stranger to take me to my eternal rest. The Twelve gave me life, and welcome me at its close. Long live House Hogg, and Gods Save the King!"

With that, Gerold unhooked his binds, and kicked the Shogun straight at the Harbringer. He tore his bonds open, grabbed the fallen sword of one of his guards, and rounded on the Premier.

"You shall have no right to judge or hold me. As the Twelve are my witnesses I shall fight for my freedom. Sword against sword. Name your champion, I demand a trial by combat."
Last edited by Kalmarnavia on Mon Aug 31, 2020 3:53 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Scottish and European
The great appear great because we are on our knees: Let us rise. James Larkin
Men perish, but principles live. James Connolly

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Alba gu Brath, Erin go Bragh, Cymru am Byth, Visca Catalunya

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SF n F
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Posts: 1043
Founded: Jan 16, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby SF n F » Mon Aug 31, 2020 5:14 pm

Flatus waited until Emperor Titus stood up again to speak. “Thank you, your highness,” he said at length. “Forgive me, but, although I believe every word you said, we must verify.” As he spoke, his dirty blonde hair began to glow. “Buzby,” he said, “we need Aurumula.”

As they stood there, another sunbeam shown down from the roof, and from its light appeared two Angels. They were like a study in contrasts. The one closest to the edge of the beam was thin and blonde with brown eyes, full lips and a body draped in the accoutraments of an easy life—a fur boa, a pink vest, leopard skin pants and black boots. Next to her stood an Angel who might as well have been an oak. Unlike her companion, her body barely moved as her steely blue eyes surveyed the throneroom with cold precision under a winged helm.

“Your highness,” Damnage said, “these are Sister Aurumula,” Damnage indicated the thinner Angel, “patron of generocity and Sister Abacus, patron of discipline. Aurumula is, among other things, a gifted diviner.” Aurumula lifted a pair of rose colored glasses to her eyes. As she did, Abacus raised her hand and put it on Aurumula's shoulder. In a moment, the glasses took on a pink glow, and Aurumula tensed and drew in a sharp breath. For a moment, it looked as though she was going to faint, but she turned, took Abacus' hand in her own and steadied herself, though a crazy, paniced look never left her face.

“Aurumula?” Flatus asked. Damnage reached out his arm and Aurumula took it along with Abacus'.

“Brother Flatus!” she said, gasping in horror, “The Emperor wasn't trumping up his charges, he was UNDERSTATING them! These aren't just necromancers, they're,” she choked for a moment, “necrovores! They devour the souls of their own living!” Upon hearing this, Sister Abacus squeezed her sister's hand in anger.

Damnage looked at Flatus again, and the intense compassion in his gaze almost made the demon-no-more start.

“Alright,” he said at length. “As truth prevails, you've convinced me. You can bring in the patrons.”

Damnage squeezed his and and drew his arm back. “Yesssss!” he said.

“Damnage,” Flatus continued, “each can perform ONE assignment for you, and we will allow Angelica to remain with you throughout the duration of these events. Thank you once again for your time, your highness. We will now avoid taking more than our just share.”

And as he finished, another sunbeam portal came down from the roof and when it left, Damnage was the only of the Etherial beings left in the room.

“Necrovores, eh?” he said. “I have a keen dislike for those.” As he spoke with the emperor, his dark brown eyes began to glow red. “Please see to it that I am fully briefed.”

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Alegeharia
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Posts: 1899
Founded: Jul 20, 2013
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Alegeharia » Mon Aug 31, 2020 5:26 pm

Eastern Carbug Isle



Valen:
Valen looked over to the box asking questions as he continued pressing forward. “I am Valen Maicroft, of Alegeharia captain of this Battleship of the A.W.C. Veltoss.” He paused for a short time before continuing. “I have small battalion of ships and ground units to aid in the empires side, I come with some supplies and fortification upgrades. In a few minutes We should be in view if not already.” Valen put the radio down and resumed course handing the helm over to his first map and exiting the command cabin to stand on the deck looking over the growing island, oh how the owl loved the salty air, it warmed his old pirate bones.




Robert:
Robert’s Crew had successfully created trenches 20 feet away from the main base they had constructed. His crew started working on gun placements as the rest of them were working on land mine finishing touches. Thorik’s much larger team had finished constructing the wire fences and had created a solid perimeter, all that was left to do was wait. Robert laid back on a nearby stone they had pushed to create some natural defense. Robert sipped at a canteen, despite being a demon the human body still had needs and he needed to pay attention to it. He took a small ration and ate slowly as he scanned the horizon, Thorik had sent a small force of 10 to scout the nearby area, and it was terribly slow. Malik ordered no magic use till they knew what the enemy’s powers was. He huffed before moving to a watch tower to take a shift.




Thorik:
Thorik, was talking with 5 of his warriors, they were having a hearty chuckle as they drunk ale and talked “shop”. He heard on the radio of a village or town being nearby and gave the permission to scout around it, ask the locals what is happening and see if anyone needs aid. He warned them to not give any details about their location till the people could trusted, he also instructed them to set up a small relay hub.

The 5 man team, Jaris, Vieri, Patch, Brogan, and Stuum had made their way over to the village center. The were a little off putting lumbering around between 5 foot 12 and and 6 foot 4, Vieri being the tallest. They stood out wearing the traditional AWC Army attire of dark reds and golds, if one didnt know better these bearded trees could have been mistaken for nobles. Each man was kitted with the standard issued M1A1s and 1911s, each had a sword or dagger of some varying degree to match their personality.

Vieri who seemed to take lead on most of these excursions was a brown skinned man, as most of his nation was, had long brown hair, tied in a style similar to a samurai with the hair swept back and tied together with a black ribbon. He had some bars under his military patch as he looked around to talk with the locals, the dialect was a little strange but thankfully they had enough intel to speak conversation well enough. It didn’t take long till they found a café to hole up in, and start making a communications and relay post. They hid some of it form prying eyes and started a secret surveillance to watch the area on rotation. This would be the foot hold for incoming and outgoing communications.

Jaris, manned the relay devices starting to send online pings to the other units, he nodded at Vieri as he began to get several positive pings back. He was waiting to hear from valen still, and Malik hadn’t pinged, but he wasn’t too worried since Aither pinged twice. The pings were coded were for such reasons, and he had the codex practically engraved in his head.



Shatharhur, Carbug Isle


Malik:
Image


Malik yawned as he realized he was being toted on the back of aither, he promptly hopped off in embarrassment as he greeted the convoy. “Well, apologies, but glad we finally linked up, hopefully we can get things rolling quickly, I got a lot of movement going at the moment and we need to get some updates going.” He stretched some as he looked around, he groaned realizing it was going to rain soon and huffed. Malik missed his hood, this time he was wearing something a little more modern rather than his medieval attire. Malik was dressed in a way that truly showed just how young he looked.

The cub had hair that parted at the front of his face, a strand cutting in the middle, he was wearing a dark steel button up shirt, with patches on either side of his shoulder, he was still wearing his gauntlets, a staple of his attire, along with the metal tail band. For pants he had on khaki capris, he was wearing his leather “digi” boots with the the metal plating. Despite the more “relaxed” looked that showed his tiny frame he still looked heavily armed, and something fierce to mess with. If people did not just assume, he was a “cute puppy”, as Robert would put it.

Maliks Ear fluttered as his comm piece chirped, the relay station was up good, he couldn’t respond to the ping, but Aither could for him, he kept up with the soldiers eyeing them up and down, he figured he came up to about their hip, himself only being 4 feet and 3 inches.




Aither:
Image


Aither smirked. He let Malik slide off his back and fished in his pocket to retrieve a metal tin, pulling a bamboo stalk out and started idly chewing as they walked. It was good the Malik got to sleep some and now things could finally get moving. His ear fluttered from a chirp, he tapped twice on a button on his left gauntlet, then adjust his olive-green jacket, he pinged the confirmation for himself and Malik to the relay center. Good, progress seemed to be going smooth so far. He looked around. “It feels like it has been forever since we last came down, but it only has been a few weeks hasn’t it?” He wasn’t asking anyone in particular just a general question to everyone here.
Last edited by Alegeharia on Mon Aug 31, 2020 5:26 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Leader Information:
Name: Malik Donovan Velkari
Age: 8 years old
Height: 4 Foot 3
Colors: Beige w/Gold, and Dark Red
Species: Tescorosso
Appearance: Here
Specials: Magical / Weapons
Story Information:
Country: Alegeharia
Politics: Democratic Kingdom
Current Time: Modern
Mottos:
Alegeharia wrote:"Il Tempo Reclama Tutto." - "Time Claims All"
Velkari wrote:"L'amore Resiste A Tutti" - "Love Endures Everythingl"
Leaders Equipment:
Head: Red Hood, Leather straps on top
Torso: Leather Curiass/Metal Strips
Hands: Leather Gloves
Legs: Knee-Cut Slacks
Paws: Leather Boots
Wings: Bare
Tail: Bare
Weapons:
Short Sword
Standard Sword
Crossbow
Hidden Blades

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Zhenshiwa
Secretary
 
Posts: 27
Founded: Mar 20, 2020
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Zhenshiwa » Mon Aug 31, 2020 8:59 pm

Makinami Palace, the Imperial Capital

Within the halls of the Imperial Palace, a small crowd of people had amassed. Business men and women, soldiers and generals, nobles and commoners... Diverse in their make up as they were in their age, all had come with one purpose in mind. One of paramount import to the Empire's future and perhaps the future of the world. Meanwhile, beyond the palatial walls, the Imperial citizens also awaited the news of what was to transpire there. The main hall was adorned with tapestries and paintings, monuments to history long otherwise forgotten. The faces of all the leaders that came before were enshrined here, and it was here that history would take place.

At the center of the room, kneeling before one another, Empress Kashiwa Fuyutsuki and her daughter were resplendent in all the finery demanded of them by Imperial tradition. All in the room had likewise taken knee, all save one... The Executor of the ceremony about to take place, a man of some ninety years of age. He too was decadently dressed in silken robes and golden jewelry, yet within his grasp he held but a simple strip of jade green silk.

"Kashiwa Fuyutsuki, Leader of all the Zhenshiwanese Peoples, it is your wish that we hold this ceremony today. You have not been pressured, nor coaxed." The man stated in that shaking tremulous voice of his, the Empress nodded her head in agreement. Her face, covered in the traditional thick white makeup, still bore a faint expression of trepidation... But the course was already set, there was nothing to do but see it through to the end. "Very well, if you would both extend your arms..." Shikinami and Fuyutsuki did so, holding their arms out before them, palms up and hands open. Delicately, the aged man set in both their hands an end of the silken strip. "Kashiwa Shikinami, please close your hand." Once more, the request was granted, and the Princess closed a trembling hand around her end of the strip. "By the powers of the Star Makers and the Goddess of the Moon, let she who shall lead our nation from henceforth take into her possession the Binding of Leadership."

Shikinami gently pulled the silk from her mother's palm, there was no resistance. When it was finally free, she grasped the other end of the silken strip and pulled it tightly around her forehead. Tying both ends together behind her head, it became clear that the front of the silk strip had been decorated with a white dragon figure.

"I, Kashiwa Shikinami, take unto my shoulders the mantle of White Dragon. In so doing, I become Leader of all Zhenshiwanese Peoples." Shikinami stated with clear resolve. The Executor bowed deeply, as did the others present in the room, including Shikinami's mother. "Let the scribes make note, that on this day, I hold accountable those that brought the death of our soldiers in that far away Empire of Phaenix. We do not rise to their defense because we share their values, but because we seek to ensure a world free of threats to our way of life... Zhenshiwa will eliminate any threat to its sovereignty, and ensure its place in the global order to follow. As of this moment, the Empire is at War."

The Open Ocean, 2 Weeks Later...

Seated in his state room aboard the Imperial Flagship, IZN Obsidian Dragon, Admiral Sakura Sato resided in silent contemplation. The gentle sway of the Dragon Carrier as it knifed through the waves was one that he had known for almost the entirety of his life. Indeed, there were some among the General Staff that felt if his finger were pricked, he'd bleed naught but sea water. He wished he could say he wasn't as pleased to be chosen by her Imperial Majesty to command such an armada. While the force under his control by no means constituted the entirety of the Imperial Navy, it was nonetheless the largest expeditionary fleet to ever leave the shores of Josai in centuries... Indeed, the Empress herself was aboard one of the battleships in his armada, on her way to hopefully convene a war summit to discuss a combined strategy of defeating the enemy... And to make clear, in no uncertain terms, the goals of Zhenshiwa at the war's conclusion.

Sato's eyes currently resided on a map of the 'Continent of Outlanders', as it had come to be called in the Zhenshiwanese navigation community. Much of it had been updated in recent weeks, and while now the enigmatic landmass bore the names of countries, it was just as much a strange and foreboding land in the minds of the Zhenshiwanese people. It was best, therefore, that Empress Shikinami had decreed the Imperial Navy would bear the brunt of conflict.

The sea was vast, certainly, but its nature was likely better known to the island nation of Zhenshiwa than any other power upon the waves. Sato shook his head, he could not allow himself to become so arrogant as to believe he was the sea's master... The Goddess of the Moon would bring a wrathful storm upon any so foolish as to assert claim to her domain. His attention to the map was drawn specifically to a series of small clay tokens, numbered one through twenty, fanned out around his grand armada in a crescent shape... So far, no word had come from any of the flights these tokens represented, but that could change at any moment. He had to wonder, when that message finally did come, would the sighted ships be friend or foe...?

Flight 18, Approx. 100 Nautical Miles North-North East of the Imperial Armada...

There was a chill in the air that came with flying that even the thickest of flight jackets could not fully conceal. Enchanted to give off some extra warmth, they managed to keep the wearer from freezing to death, but did little in the way of ensuring comfort. Adjusting the fluttering white scarf that therefore shielded his nose from the icy wind, Lieutenant Joshi Takeo could only wish he shared the inner fire so generously afforded to his mount. Small and nimble, the blue scaled feral dragon had little problem covering distances, and its comparatively minuscule size allowed it better management of its body heat. The size also helped in concealing it against the blue of the sky, in the unlikely event someone was looking for him.

Without much warning, the mighty beast suddenly lunged its talons upwards and released something it had held there. Effectively strapped into his saddle, Takeo wasn't altogether put off by this, he'd expected it to happen sooner in all honesty. The object in question was a mix of water, fish, and meat offal. Stuffed into an easily digestible casing, it had bulged to the size of an exceptionally large pumpkin. With instinctive reflex, his mount caught the disgusting packet of protein midair and gobbled the thing down whole... That would yield Takeo another two or three hours of flight time before he needed to return to his home carrier.

With a tired sigh the man tightened the straps of his wool lined flight cap and made sure that his goggles were still squarely seated on his nose. It wouldn't do to have them fly off, he wouldn't be able to see much of anything with the wind in his eyes. He stopped momentarily to tighten the jade green headband, depicting the Zhenshiwanese flag, and several characters denoting his rank and assigned ship. Losing that would be just as bad, if only for reasons of his own pride. Reaching into a pouch affixed on the right portion of the saddle, Takeo withdrew a pair of binoculars which were in turn secured to the interior of the bag by a small lanyard... Far too many riders had let their binoculars fall into the sea before such things became mandatory.

Bringing the binoculars to his eyes, the Lieutenant panned his view over the horizon, expecting as usual not to see much of anything. What he saw, however, prompted him to yank a small yellow flare gun from the saddle and pop it open. There were runes imprinted on the side of the flare shell, runes that Takeo fumbled to make use of with his thick leather gloves. Regardless of the difficulty, however, he managed to inscribe the message simply enough. Radios were still too cumbersome to be fitted to dragons, at least, those of the reconnaissance variety. Perhaps if the talk of fixed wing aircraft came to anything, a radio might be more practical then... For now, he would rely on that which was at his disposal. Squeezing the trigger, a bright flare of light arched skywards before abruptly fizzling out. The arcane signature of the flare would relay a message back to the fleet.

"Spotted large naval force on horizon. / Burning wreckage in water. / Apparent aftermath of naval action. / Participants unknown. / Objective unknown. / Dragons among them. /"

Slipping the flare gun back into its assigned holster, Takeo leaned forwards in the saddle. He'd be no match for the dragons he saw in a one on one fight, but his mount was small and maneuverable enough that he could likely outrun and out fly them. Tightening his headband while simultaneously praying that the Goddess would see him to victory, Takeo took hold of the reins and cautiously moved closer in hopes of gaining a better view. Any further intelligence he could send back to the fleet would surely prove useful, and if he could see nothing else, there was still a good chance he could make a tactical escape.

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Piikala
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Founded: May 15, 2018
Democratic Socialists

Postby Piikala » Tue Sep 01, 2020 12:31 am

In the Diet assembly building of Piikala in the Imperial Capitol of Piikala:

It was chaos in the diet as the Piikalan diet members where heard yelling across the room. The diet divided on the decision on an invasion of the Aurania landmass the two parties the Calm Water and Ku'u parties yelling at each other. As each of the parties questioned the different points and justifications to invade or not. When the two large doors on the diet chamber suddenly slid open, and the two groups suddenly stopped talking and faced the door and kowtowed. As a woman in her mid-thirties dressed from head to toe in a sparkling silk kimono stepped into the room. She then proceeded to walk to the head of the room and sat down behind a simple wooden sitting table. As the ministers slowly looked up and turned to face their empress. Who cleared her throat and said in Piikalan, "So what're we arguing about today?" Then one of the ministers at the front said, "My empress, we're debating the proposed invasion of the Aurania region. Specifically, the empire of Phaenix, my empress." "So are we going to or not?" said the empress. "We're going to the empress. But who should command the fleet and where do we get the supplies. As we're spread too thin fighting revolutions and western invaders to send in a large force." said one of the ministers. So the empress stood up and said, "So send in Tua, and I'll make sure he wins." as she walked out of the room and the doors closed behind.

The next day at the Piikalan naval yards in Koh Samui Thailand:

Tua Kamehameha stood twenty stories up on the command deck of the Manumalo, a massive super Kami Kaze class battleship. Where he overlooked his fleet of thirteen warships that stood in the harbour and wondered how the empress managed to get all the supplies needed for their mission overnight, as he watched the sun rising over the ocean he suddenly could hear the blow of a kong shell over the ship's voice pipes followed by the noise of the Piikalan fleet bursting out into song as they sang the Piikalan national anthem. At the same time, a large 5 meter by 12-meter flag was hoisted up one of the Manumalos two, thirty story high conning towers. Upon the ending of the rising of the flag, the Piikalan troops continued preparations to depart as the Piikalan supply ships loaded with supplies pulled into port. At the same time, the rest of the Piikalan ships were coaled up or filled up with oil. Then soon after the Piikalan ships departed leaving Koh Samui and heading out.

Meanwhile at a Piikalan naval air station in eastern Celebritydude:

The sound of eight large propeller engines could be heard starting up as a large flying boat left it's mooring and started to taxi to the end of the bay. As waves and spray were left in its wake by the large propellers began to spin ever-increasingly faster, and the flying boat started to lift off the surface and climb slowly into the sky. As another even larger flying boat started up and left it's mooring and taxied down and took off. The two then went into a delta formation. As they headed towards the Auraina with bombs, gas canisters, and canisters filled with Zika carrying mosquitos; plague-carrying rats; and food injected with swine flu of sorts.

At the same time in a Piikalan AirStation in Lesser Australia:

The sound of the fifty man strong mechanized airborne division could be heard as they screamed, "BANZAI!!! BANZAI!!! BANZAI!!!!" With each scream, they stabbed the air with their Katanas, their bodies filled with adrenaline as they watched the Piikalan and the Self Administrative state of Homely Home flags rise together to the backdrop of the sun rising over the lesser Australian outback. As the Imperial Piikalan state anthem played in the background the troops, most of them ethnically Peranikin then proceeded into their heavy tanks and drove aboard the five airships parked in the grass field. The large mechanized tanks were then secured down to the deck with rope, and the crews then proceeded to sit beside their vehicle. As the five gigantic airships started up their large overhead propellers started to spin as they rose off the ground with the assistance of helium lifting gas. They quickly got airborne and proceeded to their destination, the Auraina landmass.

Somewhere in the ocean onboard the IPNS #894 en route to Auraina on a routine intelligence gathering mission:

"Captain! I see an enemy fleet on the periscope, sir!" "Appears to be eleven vessels at two rays to the northwest of our position, sir!" said the driver of the IPNS #894 a slim Thai boy in his late teens. The Captain standing on the subs metal deck walked over to the periscope and looked into it then mumbled, "Aaahhh good job…. Let see it appears to be three dragon carriers, five cruisers, and ten small surface vessels… RADIO OPERATOR!!! Once we get to transmission depth, send a message." "Yes, sir." said the radio operator, an ethnically Catlandian woman in her late teens who was busy writing the info down onto a small notepad for future transmission. "Driver good work now let us see if we can follow this fleet. See if they'll lead us to their friends?" said the Captain as he stepped away from the periscope and the driver resumed the subs course.

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Kalmarnavia
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Founded: Jul 10, 2020
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Kalmarnavia » Tue Sep 01, 2020 2:26 am

The bridge crew of the battlecruiser Kraken VI were busy managing the course adjustments necessary to take the fleet to Carburg Isle. There was a low buzz in the room, suddenly interrupted by a high pitch ping.

The radar operator snapped to attention, his eyes darting across his screens.

"Report?"
"Sir, our aerial radar... It's picked up a signal. It's so small it could be an anomaly but it's moving rather fast.... And high."
"Is it a missile?"
"No sir... I honestly don't know what it is."
"All stations at full alert. Radio! Contact the flagship and broadcast fleet-wide. We should be ready just in case."

Aboard the flagship

Argalaic scanned the skies with his binoculars alongside Dontas and Prince Makar.

"I can't bloody see anything from here, did they say how high it was?"
"Several hundred feet at least, but closing on our position. It seems to have followed the ships that accompanied Victarion and Raenor."

Argalaic took the binoculars away from his eyes, and leaned on the railings.

Aemond spoken from behind him.

"It may be best to dispatch a scouting party, Nephew. Send up a couple of riders to cover the area and locate this mystery tail we appear to have picked up."
"Who do I send? Some of the bigger dragons would cover the area quicker, but they're so massive they're not really built for a mission like this."
"Radnor, Rhaena and Xenia all have the smallest of the dragons, and are all less experienced. We need to build their experiences of flying in a war zone, this is a gentle start."

Argalaic considered his, stroking his beard.

"Very well. Cousin Makar? Signal for your brother and our dear cousins. It's past time they learned to hunt."

Carrier 4, moments later

Orion tore upwards, roaring with delight to be in the skies again. She spun and tumbled, causing Xenia to shriek with fear.

"You'll need to keep a strong grip on your lines there, Xenia!"
Over her left shoulder, Xenia glanced Rhaena and Jacobus, whose green-grey wings shone almost translucent in the sun. Rhaena smiled, her eyes covered by her flying goggles while her red and gold cape flapped behind her.

"She's not had a proper flight in weeks!" shouted Xenia as Orion flapped her wings in circles to remain almost hovering, "Have you seen Radnor?"

As if on cue, a bright green flash swooped up in between Jacobus and Orion sending the two dragons reeling backwards screeching with indignation.

Prince Radnor held on with one had, tumbling with his small mount as Zanthar completed a lazy loop. Zanthar was barely fifty feet long and 30 feet from the ground to his jaws- big, but dwarfed by almost every other dragon.

"Come now ladies, to work!" Radnor was clad in the same ted and gold flying armour as his kin, augmented with the white cape of his mother's House, the Orjordens of Frondheim.

The three young riders fanned out in a search formation, staggered at 100 foot altitude intervals. For well over an hour they swooped over their large search area before Radnor and Xenia heard their cousin's voice crackle over the radios built into their armour.

"I've got it, I've got it! It's another dragon with a rider- it's tiny but still. I'm circling above through cloud and haven't been spotted."

With that, Jacobus dove through the clouds and pulled alongside the strange dragon. Rhaena pulled her sidearm from its holster, levelled it on the stranger and bellowed over the howling winds.

"I am Rhaena, of the House Wend, a princess of Kalmarnavia! Friend or foe, you are to follow me into the custody of our fleet! Set your mount down upon the dragon platform and surrender your arms!"
Last edited by Kalmarnavia on Tue Sep 01, 2020 2:32 am, edited 1 time in total.
Scottish and European
The great appear great because we are on our knees: Let us rise. James Larkin
Men perish, but principles live. James Connolly

Black Lives Matter, Trans Lives Matter

Trans Rights Are Human Rights


Alba gu Brath, Erin go Bragh, Cymru am Byth, Visca Catalunya

¡No Pasaran!
#indyref2 #leavealighton

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Zhenshiwa
Secretary
 
Posts: 27
Founded: Mar 20, 2020
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Zhenshiwa » Wed Sep 02, 2020 3:46 pm

Flight 18, Approx. 100 Nautical Miles North-North East of the Imperial Armada...

Takeo stared at the other dragon rider with a mixture of surprise and confusion, primarily because he couldn't understand a single word they had said. Briefly glancing between the barrel of the gun pointed at his head and the holster on his saddle that housed his own sidearm, Takeo doubted he'd be able to draw the weapon without being shot in the process. Odds were he was facing a hostile force, but the fact he'd not been shot at left some chance this rider wasn't one of the hostile powers. Setting his jaw, he gripped the reins of his mount with one hand and raised the other to tap at the fabric tied around his head, clearly displaying the Zhenshiwanese emblem.

"You are interfering in the military reconnaissance of the Imperial Zhenshiwanese Navy!" He shouted back in Zhenshiwanese, though he doubted this foreigner would understand. "Lower your weapon and divert course immediately!"

IZN Obsidian Dragon, Approx. 100 Nautical Miles South-South West of Flight 18...

Admiral Sakura Sato stood on the bridge of the mighty Dragon Carrier, as he had ever since first receiving news of contact with a possibly hostile force. The Imperial Armada had diverted course towards the estimated location of the as yet unknown fleet, save for a single battleship and detachment of two heavy cruisers. These were near the center of the fleet, well within protective range of the rest of the fleet, but far less likely to be struck in the event of combat. Such precautions were necessary, as the aforementioned battleship carried the very important personage of Her Imperial Majesty Kashiwa Shikinami.

No further word had come from Flight 18, so orders had been dispatched to Flights 17 and 16 to divert in an effort to gain better intelligence. It was very likely Flight 18 had been downed, Recon Dragons weren't known for their combat survivability after all... As the other fleet was likely hostile the entire fleet had been placed on heightened alert. Several destroyers employed their SubTarDet (Submerged Target Detection) sets in search of possible leviathans or other threats lurking beneath the waves, while others made use of SurTarDet (Surface Target Detection) sets to seek any threats above the waves and in the air. None had been detected thus far, but it didn't hurt to be cautious.

Sato had to wonder just what nature the likely coming engagement was to entail, dragon fighting was still a widely untested field when it came to 'Foreign Dragons'. As intelligence had shown, Foreign bread dragons were smarter, larger, and generally more difficult to kill. Imperial Dragons were fast breeding creatures, something that loaned itself well to use as weapons of war, but it was theorized it would take up to 5 Imperial Dragons to down 1 Foreign Dragon... This was an aspect where he wished the Navy had invested in fixed winged aircraft ahead of time... Fixed wing aircraft could be better equipped, better repaired, and didn't carry with them that rare but ever present threat of a 'Rogue Dragon'.

The man shook his head, once more Sato was getting too far into the details of things. The problem was simple. There was an unknown fleet, likely a hostile one, some hundred miles away... Well within range of the larger 'Strike Dragons' and 'Escort Dragons' at his disposal. The number of enemy ships remained unknown, their exact course heading also remained unknown. They couldn't launch a strike without more information, and having his dragons sitting around with ordnance mounted was asking to have his mighty carrier destroyed if a hostile attack were to appear... It would be a veritable powder keg. He'd wait, for now, until either more intelligence arrived or the enemy fleet drew closer.

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Kalmarnavia
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Founded: Jul 10, 2020
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Kalmarnavia » Wed Sep 02, 2020 4:32 pm

Rhaena strained to see the emblem the mystery dragon rider was trying very hard to show her whilst prattling in a language that even without the howling winds she would struggle to comprehend. She vaguely recognised it, but was distracted by a screeching roar.

From the clouds above, Zanthar burst through and swooped to the other side of the other dragon. As the clouds cleared, Orion appeared above. Radnor drew his pistol, using it to jab and gesture quite clearly towards the ships below.

"This is Radnor to command. Unknown object is a dragon and rider. Not one of ours. Very very foreign. Attempting to force compliance."

Aboard the flagship

Argalaic spun round at the word dragon. A sudden flush of realisation struck him like a brick wall. He shoved a radio operator aside and answered his cousins.

"Do not engage, I repeat to do not engage. Escort over our fleet but do not invoke hostile action. It's a friendly- I REPEAT, A FRIENDLY!"

Prince Makar and Prince Aemond looked stunned.

"Nephew how in the name of the Twelve can you be so certain??"

Dontas interjected.

"There's only one other power that would intervene here with dragons, Prince Aemond. And Arge is quite fond of their Crown Princess, eh?"
"Hold your tongue! Stand the Fleet down, and broadcast this."

He handed a scrap of paper to one of the operators who switched a few dials, and began talking slowly and clearly into the radio in the Common Tongue of Kalmarnavia.

"This is the Advanced Task Force of the Royal Kalmarnavian Fleet, hailing all vessels sailing under the Zhenshiwanese banner. We are a friendly force. Repeat. We are a friendly force. Please stay clear to avoid mistaken identity and accidental fire. Repeat. Stay well clear."
Scottish and European
The great appear great because we are on our knees: Let us rise. James Larkin
Men perish, but principles live. James Connolly

Black Lives Matter, Trans Lives Matter

Trans Rights Are Human Rights


Alba gu Brath, Erin go Bragh, Cymru am Byth, Visca Catalunya

¡No Pasaran!
#indyref2 #leavealighton

User avatar
Piikala
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 150
Founded: May 15, 2018
Democratic Socialists

Postby Piikala » Wed Sep 02, 2020 4:49 pm

Somewhere in the Ocean:

The large formation of Piikalan ships slowly cruising across the calm seas. The large formation of forty-three large ships sailing in a large rectangular formation. With the Manumalo and the two Piikalan aircraft carriers, the Ha'e and Shinigami sailing at the centre of the formation in a straight line. The Manumalos two large towering bows cut through the water with ease as the fleet commander stood on the top of one of the Manumalos towering conning towers looking below at the rest of his fleet through a pair of binoculars. Then said in a soft voice, "Fire."

"BBBBOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!"

The Manumalo suddenly fired her main guns in a full broadside shooting all twenty-four of her 1 meter in diameter guns. Causing Tua to lean to the side as the large Manumalo was suddenly pushed several centimetres to the side by the firing of her main armament as Tua watched with his binoculars and saw that the twelve shells all hit the desired target a small barrel thirty kilometres away that Tua had sent adrift several hours ago. As he watched the small wooden barrel suddenly be turned into pulp, he ordered the ship's captain to make sure the men got an extra ration of Sake for their good work. As Tua looked through his binoculars at the torpedo boats as they violently rocked from the wake of the shells, then Tua said, "Make sure those torpedo guys get an extra ration toooo… opps."

Somewhere else in the ocean IPNS# 894:

The sub commander watched what was happening above the surface through his periscope. He saw several ships divert their course and he watched as two large surface ships seemed to form around the dragon cruiser. As he looked through his pericope he said, “Radio operator fleet is breaking up three ships heading on the original course appears to be two cruisers and a dragon cruiser. Second fleet of remaining ships including carriers heading away towards sector nana qui! Driver bring us to radio depth!” “YES SIR!” said the driver as he turned a series of valves causing the ship to rise till it had its ten foot high radio antena sticking above the surface. “At transmission depth SIR!” shouted the driver. “Very good driver. Now radio operator send the message to the Imperial fleet command!” shouted the captain. “Yes sir...” said the radio operator in a soft voice. She then turned on the radio and transmitted a message over an AM frequency that took nearly half an hour:

- .... .. ... / .. ... / .. .--. -. ... / ---.. ----. ....- / - .... .. ... / .. ... / .. .--. -. ... / ---.. ....- / - --- / .-- .- .-. / .--. .- --. --- -.. .- / - --- / .-- .- .-. / .--. .- --. --- -.. .- / -.-. .- .-. -.. ---... / ..--- --... -.... ---.. / -.-. .- .-. -.. ---... / ..--- --... -.... ---.. / -.-. .- .-. -.. ---... / ..--- --... -.... ---.. / .---- ..--- -.... ..--- --... ....- -.... ...-- ---.. ----- ..--- ----. --... ....- ...-- --... ....- -.... ...-- --... ..... ---.. ...-- ..--- .---- ----- ----. ...-- ---.. ...-- ----- --... ..... ----- ...-- ----. ----. ..--- ----- ...-- --... ---.. ....- ---.. ....- ..... ----. ...-- -.... ---.. .---- ----- ..--- --... ....- ..--- --... ...-- ..... ....- -.... ..--- ----. ---.. ..--- --... ...-- ---.. ..--- ....- -.... ---.. ----. ...-- ..--- --... ....- -.... ...-- ---.. ..--- .---- ----. ....- ...-- ---.. -.... ..... --... ...-- .---- ..--- --... -.... ..--- ...-- ..--- ---.. ---.. ---.. ...-- --... ..--- ---.. --... ---.. ...-- -.... ...-- ---.. ....- ..--- ----. ...-- ..--- ----. --... ....- ...-- ---.. ----. ..--- .---- ----. ....- ---.. ----- ...-- ..--- ----. ---.. ..--- --... ....- ----- ...-- ---.. ----. ----- ..--- ...-- ----. ---.. ....- -.... ....- --... ---.. ...-- ---.. ---.. ----. / .-. . .--. . .- - / .---- ..--- -.... ..--- --... ....- -.... ...-- ---.. ----- ..--- ----. --... ....- ...-- --... ....- -.... ...-- --... ..... ---.. ...-- ..--- .---- ----- ----. ...-- ---.. ...-- ----- --... ..... ----- ...-- ----. ----. ..--- ----- ...-- --... ---.. ....- ---.. ....- ..... ----. ...-- -.... ---.. .---- ----- ..--- --... ....- ..--- --... ...-- ..... ....- -.... ..--- ----. ---.. ..--- --... ...-- ---.. ..--- ....- -.... ---.. ----. ...-- ..--- --... ....- -.... ...-- ---.. ..--- .---- ----. ....- ...-- ---.. -.... ..... --... ...-- .---- ..--- --... -.... ..--- ...-- ..--- ---.. ---.. ---.. ...-- --... ..--- ---.. --... ---.. ...-- -.... ...-- ---.. ....- ..--- ----. ...-- ..--- ----. --... ....- ...-- ---.. ----. ..--- .---- ----. ....- ---.. ----- ...-- ..--- ----. ---.. ..--- --... ....- ----- ...-- ---.. ----. ----- ..--- ...-- ----. ---.. ....- -.... ....- --... ---.. ...-- ---.. ---.. ----. / .-. . .--. . .- - / .---- ..--- -.... ..--- --... ....- -.... ...-- ---.. ----- ..--- ----. --... ....- ...-- --... ....- -.... ...-- --... ..... ---.. ...-- ..--- .---- ----- ----. ...-- ---.. ...-- ----- --... ..... ----- ...-- ----. ----. ..--- ----- ...-- --... ---.. ....- ---.. ....- ..... ----. ...-- -.... ---.. .---- ----- ..--- --... ....- ..--- --... ...-- ..... ....- -.... ..--- ----. ---.. ..--- --... ...-- ---.. ..--- ....- -.... ---.. ----. ...-- ..--- --... ....- -.... ...-- ---.. ..--- .---- ----. ....- ...-- ---.. -.... ..... --... ...-- .---- ..--- --... -.... ..--- ...-- ..--- ---.. ---.. ---.. ...-- --... ..--- ---.. --... ---.. ...-- -.... ...-- ---.. ....- ..--- ----. ...-- ..--- ----. --... ....- ...-- ---.. ----. ..--- .---- ----. ....- ---.. ----- ...-- ..--- ----. ---.. ..--- --... ....- ----- ...-- ---.. ----. ----- ..--- ...-- ----. ---.. ....- -.... ....- --... ---.. ...-- ---.. ---.. ----. / .-. . .--. . .- - / .---- ..--- -.... ..--- --... ....- -.... ...-- ---.. ----- ..--- ----. --... ....- ...-- --... ....- -.... ...-- --... ..... ---.. ...-- ..--- .---- ----- ----. ...-- ---.. ...-- ----- --... ..... ----- ...-- ----. ----. ..--- ----- ...-- --... ---.. ....- ---.. ....- ..... ----. ...-- -.... ---.. .---- ----- ..--- --... ....- ..--- --... ...-- ..... ....- -.... ..--- ----. ---.. ..--- --... ...-- ---.. ..--- ....- -.... ---.. ----. ...-- ..--- --... ....- -.... ...-- ---.. ..--- .---- ----. ....- ...-- ---.. -.... ..... --... ...-- .---- ..--- --... -.... ..--- ...-- ..--- ---.. ---.. ---.. ...-- --... ..--- ---.. --... ---.. ...-- -.... ...-- ---.. ....- ..--- ----. ...-- ..--- ----. --... ....- ...-- ---.. ----. ..--- .---- ----. ....- ---.. ----- ...-- ..--- ----. ---.. ..--- --... ....- ----- ...-- ---.. ----. ----- ..--- ...-- ----. ---.. ....- -.... ....- --... ---.. ...-- ---.. ---.. ----.

Message translation from number card:

IPNS 894 has spotted an enemy fleet three dragon carriers, five cruisers, and ten small surface ships. We're at point BC on map G enemy fleet now splitting up, remaining one dragon carrier and two cruisers permission to fire on dragon carrier command. Note other enemy is moving towards Nana qui.

"Transmission sent sir!" said the radio operator. "Very good. Now we wait for a response from high command. Driver cut power to the propellers" said the captain as he sat back onto one of the metal benches in the operations room onboard the sub. "Yes, sir." said the driver as the sub stopped 15 km away from the three remaining ships.

Thirty minutes later:

"Sir we're getting a transmission from the War pagoda! I am now recording the message, Sir!" said the radio operator. "Very good." said the captain as he shifted his weight back and forth, waiting for the message to be fully translated. (thirty minutes later) "Message in full has been received from command! Request card 2769 sir!" "Ok, give me a minute." said the captain as he stood up, walked to a small safe in the back of the room and opened it up. Then pulled out a little paper card that the radio operator quickly filled in that read:

Front:
ON(original number set on card)
1
2
4
5
6
7
7
8
8
8
4
5
6
3
5
6
7
2
TN+(add transmission numbers)
72
33
44
76
47
88
23
35
24
45
67
34
56
66
56
12
34
56
NN(New numbers that link to certain words in the Piikalan naval codes)
73
35
48
81
53
95
30
43
32
53
71
39
62
69
61
18
41
58

Back (Message translated from Piikalan to English):
Permission to attack. Note Tua is sending a fleet to attack the area. Please send additional information. Long live the empire!

So the captain stood up and permitted to fire once the target was in sight. As the sub increased speed, the sub's periscope started to cut through the water. Increasing it's distance till it was three kilometres away from a battleship(the perceived dragon carrier) and fired all ten of its torpedoes and then dived down to its max depth of two kilometres and waited for the enemy to pass. As they heard, the sound of their torpedos failing and waited for their eventual demise. The captain ordered most of his crew onto the command deck and passed around a cup of Sake that they each took a sip from. Then waited for their demise with all of them smiling knowing they did a service to their motherland. Then they all shouted, "See you at the Shrine family! BANZAI!!! BANZAI!!! BANZAI!!!"
Last edited by Piikala on Fri Sep 04, 2020 2:15 am, edited 4 times in total.

User avatar
Atlantian Dominions
Envoy
 
Posts: 337
Founded: Sep 04, 2012
Moralistic Democracy

Postby Atlantian Dominions » Fri Sep 04, 2020 7:36 am

Phaenix wrote:The captain of the Pomsta scowled, and made a motion to the gendarmerie on the Mercy of Jesus.
"Since you are taking goods to that disgusting land they call an empire, we'll have to take a tax, of say, half of all your goods."
The gendarmerie began to move boxes of Atlantian wares from the merchant ship to their boat, growling at any crew who stepped in their way. The captain of the Pomsta smiled.
"And let me remind you. This tax will support the Union and the Federation in bringing freedom and democracy to the continent!"

Aboard the Mercy of Jesus

"This is outrageous!"

Captain William Moore fumed as the gendarmes began carrying off portions of the ship's cargo. The vast hold was filled with containers of varying size and shape. The Mercy of Jesus was hauling goods to fill the shortages that had no doubt been made worse by the demands of the war machine: wheat and other staple crops from Sylvania and Yankton, basic clothing woven from Marydale cotton in the mills of Delmarva, and other goods that weren't especially profitable in small quantities but would bring a good return when sold in bulk. But now these damned pirates were carrying off half his stock!

"Captain, what you are doing runs against all the laws of the sea," Moore said. "This ships flies a neutral flag. You are violating Atlantian sovereignty with your actions, and such deeds have consequences."

The rest of the crew stood by and let the gendarmes conduct their robbery, but an astute observer could see knuckles turning white as angry men tightened their grip on rifles. A few men refused to move when growled at, standing firm in their place and daring the foreigners to move them some other way.
Last edited by Atlantian Dominions on Fri Sep 04, 2020 7:38 am, edited 1 time in total.
The Confederation of Atlantian Dominions
Using Past Tech in Modern Tech RP
My nation can be referred to as "the Atlantian Dominions" or "Atlantia"
Red Dead Redemption & Red Dead Redemption 2, Bastion, Julian Comstock: A Story of 22nd-Century America by Robert Charles Wilson, Fitzpatrick’s War by Theodore Judson, The Peshawar Lancers by S.M. Stirling, The Stand by Stephen King

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Phaenix
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 364
Founded: Jun 19, 2020
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Phaenix » Fri Sep 04, 2020 9:37 am

Atlantian Dominions wrote:
Phaenix wrote:The captain of the Pomsta scowled, and made a motion to the gendarmerie on the Mercy of Jesus.
"Since you are taking goods to that disgusting land they call an empire, we'll have to take a tax, of say, half of all your goods."
The gendarmerie began to move boxes of Atlantian wares from the merchant ship to their boat, growling at any crew who stepped in their way. The captain of the Pomsta smiled.
"And let me remind you. This tax will support the Union and the Federation in bringing freedom and democracy to the continent!"

Aboard the Mercy of Jesus

"This is outrageous!"

Captain William Moore fumed as the gendarmes began carrying off portions of the ship's cargo. The vast hold was filled with containers of varying size and shape. The Mercy of Jesus was hauling goods to fill the shortages that had no doubt been made worse by the demands of the war machine: wheat and other staple crops from Sylvania and Yankton, basic clothing woven from Marydale cotton in the mills of Delmarva, and other goods that weren't especially profitable in small quantities but would bring a good return when sold in bulk. But now these damned pirates were carrying off half his stock!

"Captain, what you are doing runs against all the laws of the sea," Moore said. "This ships flies a neutral flag. You are violating Atlantian sovereignty with your actions, and such deeds have consequences."

The rest of the crew stood by and let the gendarmes conduct their robbery, but an astute observer could see knuckles turning white as angry men tightened their grip on rifles. A few men refused to move when growled at, standing firm in their place and daring the foreigners to move them some other way.

On the Mercy of Jesus

The captain merely laughed as his men, more akin to bears then men, pushed the Atlantians out of the way with ease.
"Well, if you hate democracy so much that you want to sell goods to the Empire, perhaps you'll just run into a pirate at sea. And since you didn't want to pay the tax, maybe the Union Navy won't come to your aid. We'll still take half your cargo, but if you keep making trouble, we'll take your life, got it?"
As two more smaller crafts docked next to the Mercy of Jesus, the hold of the merchant ship gradually emptied, until the once full cargo hold now held only half of its cargo. As the smaller crafts returned to their ships, the captain smiled.
"Be about your business, foreigner, and have a pleasant visit to Aurania!"

Delkopi, Union Senate House

Premier Salmaan laughed and shrugged his shoulders, allowing his ceremonial robes to slip off, revealing a muscular frame and scars from many battles. Clapping his hands, a servant appeared and handed Salmaan a ornate saber, which he wielded with deadly proficiency. Looking up at Gerold, the Premier smiled.
"Ah, so you wish to die by my blade? So be it. I wished to test the prowess of the Harbinger, but a little practice never harmed anyone, did it?"
With that, Salmaan lunged at Gerold's chest with startling speed while the Union senators cheered.
Roma Aeterna!

PRO: Autocracy, secularism, socialism, meritocracy, freedom of speech
ANTI: Electoral College, Trump, Democrats, Republicans, Nazism, imperialism, libertarianism, communism, CCP

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Kalmarnavia
Attaché
 
Posts: 88
Founded: Jul 10, 2020
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Kalmarnavia » Fri Sep 04, 2020 11:10 am

The Union Senate

As beaten up as he was, Gerold was still the finest knight in the 6 Realms. He had fought scarier looking men than this foreign devil before, and he would again.

The Premier had made a rookie error. A lunge like that, at the centre of mass of an opponent, always left you off balance. A balance that could be totally undone by a strong stiff parry.

The sword in his hand was not his usual two handed broadsword, but it would suffice.

He knocked the sword of the Premier off its course towards his chest with a smile. He spun round, bringing his sword down towards the leading leg of his opponent.

He knew his injuries would reduce his stamina. A quick, decisive blow to the artery in the leg would end this affair.


The Kungshallen, Roskilde

The skies of Roskilde were dark with smoke, darkening the evening sky further. Every factory in the city was working for the war effort. Armour, guns, artillery, ammunition. Medical supplies and food poured into the docks, and outside the furtherest external walls of the city sat a growing war camp. Men were pouring in from Sethenland, Norvalia and Dormvark, with the banners of House Vasa, House Heelstein and House Foley mingling with dozens of their vassals. Thousands were camped waiting for the battleships and cruisers to return from escorting the advanced force, with more ships on their way courtesy of House Knarlson.

High above on its two hills, the towers of the Kungshallen loomed over all. A veritable wall of steel had been flung up around the Royal fortress, with some of the extended royal family drafted in with their dragons to bolster security. Checkpoints ringed the main streets leading to the hills, and only essential workers were permitted beyond the last line of heavily armed guards.

The defences of the fortress were not impregnable, however.

As two guards made their rounds through the corridors of the sleeping fortress, a shadowy figure dressed all in black slipped out from behind a carved column. Carefully, the stranger slipped open the enormous doors to the throne room.

Sticking firmly to the shadows, the lone figure snuck through the dimly lit room passed the shimmering Dragon Throne. The ruby eyes of the carved golden creatures seemed to search out as the figure slipped through the door to the Great Council Chamber.

A pale stream of moonlight shone through the windows of the chamber, illuminating the gargantuan table within. Silently, the figure moved to search the great locked cabinets and chests within. They rummaged as noiselessly as possible.

"Oh, looking for something in particular?"

The figure spun round, drawing a gun from within their cloak. From the dark recesses of the room strode a bald headed, scarfaced monster of a man. Clad in the jet black armour of the Knights of the Nine, Ser Alain Goldsborough cut a distinct figure. Just shy of six feet and eight inches in height, blind in one eye from a scar across the right side of his face, and a with a disarmingly dazzling smile, Ser Alain was the second son of a house from the far south of Nunaatland, sworn to House Varyn. He had been a legendary warrior before being raised to the most high order of the Nine, and was the King's personal enforcer.

He glanced at the gun, and whistled. From behind pillars and thick, gold cloth curtains stepped forth armoured guards. The shadowy figure was vastly outnumbered.

"Time's come for us to have a chat." Ser Alain chuckled, as he drove his mailed fist into the stranger's face.


The next morning

A huge throng of people had packed into Conqueror’s Square in front of the Civil Palace. Hundreds of thousands of ordinary people, merchants, travellers and soldiers were jammed in, jostling for a view. On a wooden platform next to the balcony, crude gallows had been raised. Soldiers lined the streets controlling the crowd, with sharpshooters on every rooftop.

A deafening, thunderous roar went up from the crowd as the crowned dragon banner of House Wend dropped from the balcony, and trumpets heralded the arrival of King Jaeharys.

Dressed in his finest red robe, and wearing the black steel crown of the Conqueror himself, Jaeharys stepped onto the balcony surrounded by guards. He held his hands up for quiet, and started speaking into the microphone in front of him.

"My people, Twelve blessings upon you all, and by the blessings of the Twelve may we be granted swift and glorious victory! My people... The war we engage upon now to assist our gallant allies is not merely being waged overseas. It is being waged at home! Last night, my brave guards apprehended an agent, a Union agent in the pay of those Rodari scum!"

Screams, shouts of fury and alarm went up from the jostling crowd. The King again raised his hands.

"He sought to uncover state secrets...he sought to kill your King!"

The screams rose again, and Jaeharys shouted into his microphone.

"Gaze now, dear people, on the face of the enemy!"

From out of a window, two guards emerged onto the rudimentary gallows dragging a shatteted figure. His evening with Ser Alain had taken its toll. His hair was matted with blood, his face cracked and swollen.

The screams of fear turned into a cacophony of rage, as bottles, stones and shit flew through the air. The crowd bayed for blood as the guards lifted their shields to defend the prisoner from the onslaught.

The King pointed furiously at the prisoner.

"This foul creature is Jack Ninehands. A cloth merchant, married to a wealthy man from the Union's daughter. Not satisfied with the money made from his trade, he turned his cloak. He took a thousand gold pieces to steal our state secrets, our war plans to deliver your sons and brothers and fathers into the hands of the enemy, and to slit my throat. He is a low dog, an enemy of the Crown, and a traitor. And this, to anyone from the Union present, is what we do to enemies and traitors!"

In a deft movement, one guard looped the noose over the man's head, and the other kicked the leaver to drop the floor. He fell straight through, and an audible crack was greeted by roars of joy from the crowd.

The King was wild eyed, his long red hair flapping as he leaned into the microphone.

"Our enemies will know the true power of the dragon! We shall not cease. We shall not falter. We shall wage total war, and have total victory! Total victory, or nothing!"

He raised his fist in the air as the crowd cheered. One word reverberated from every wall around the square, as the crowds roared as one.

"WAR! WAR! WAR! WAR! WAR! WAR!"
Scottish and European
The great appear great because we are on our knees: Let us rise. James Larkin
Men perish, but principles live. James Connolly

Black Lives Matter, Trans Lives Matter

Trans Rights Are Human Rights


Alba gu Brath, Erin go Bragh, Cymru am Byth, Visca Catalunya

¡No Pasaran!
#indyref2 #leavealighton

User avatar
Phaenix
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 364
Founded: Jun 19, 2020
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Phaenix » Fri Sep 04, 2020 11:59 am

Kalmarnavia wrote:The Union Senate

As beaten up as he was, Gerold was still the finest knight in the 6 Realms. He had fought scarier looking men than this foreign devil before, and he would again.

The Premier had made a rookie error. A lunge like that, at the centre of mass of an opponent, always left you off balance. A balance that could be totally undone by a strong stiff parry.

The sword in his hand was not his usual two handed broadsword, but it would suffice.

He knocked the sword of the Premier off its course towards his chest with a smile. He spun round, bringing his sword down towards the leading leg of his opponent.

He knew his injuries would reduce his stamina. A quick, decisive blow to the artery in the leg would end this affair.


The Kungshallen, Roskilde

The skies of Roskilde were dark with smoke, darkening the evening sky further. Every factory in the city was working for the war effort. Armour, guns, artillery, ammunition. Medical supplies and food poured into the docks, and outside the furtherest external walls of the city sat a growing war camp. Men were pouring in from Sethenland, Norvalia and Dormvark, with the banners of House Vasa, House Heelstein and House Foley mingling with dozens of their vassals. Thousands were camped waiting for the battleships and cruisers to return from escorting the advanced force, with more ships on their way courtesy of House Knarlson.

High above on its two hills, the towers of the Kungshallen loomed over all. A veritable wall of steel had been flung up around the Royal fortress, with some of the extended royal family drafted in with their dragons to bolster security. Checkpoints ringed the main streets leading to the hills, and only essential workers were permitted beyond the last line of heavily armed guards.

The defences of the fortress were not impregnable, however.

As two guards made their rounds through the corridors of the sleeping fortress, a shadowy figure dressed all in black slipped out from behind a carved column. Carefully, the stranger slipped open the enormous doors to the throne room.

Sticking firmly to the shadows, the lone figure snuck through the dimly lit room passed the shimmering Dragon Throne. The ruby eyes of the carved golden creatures seemed to search out as the figure slipped through the door to the Great Council Chamber.

A pale stream of moonlight shone through the windows of the chamber, illuminating the gargantuan table within. Silently, the figure moved to search the great locked cabinets and chests within. They rummaged as noiselessly as possible.

"Oh, looking for something in particular?"

The figure spun round, drawing a gun from within their cloak. From the dark recesses of the room strode a bald headed, scarfaced monster of a man. Clad in the jet black armour of the Knights of the Nine, Ser Alain Goldsborough cut a distinct figure. Just shy of six feet and eight inches in height, blind in one eye from a scar across the right side of his face, and a with a disarmingly dazzling smile, Ser Alain was the second son of a house from the far south of Nunaatland, sworn to House Varyn. He had been a legendary warrior before being raised to the most high order of the Nine, and was the King's personal enforcer.

He glanced at the gun, and whistled. From behind pillars and thick, gold cloth curtains stepped forth armoured guards. The shadowy figure was vastly outnumbered.

"Time's come for us to have a chat." Ser Alain chuckled, as he drove his mailed fist into the stranger's face.


The next morning

A huge throng of people had packed into Conqueror’s Square in front of the Civil Palace. Hundreds of thousands of ordinary people, merchants, travellers and soldiers were jammed in, jostling for a view. On a wooden platform next to the balcony, crude gallows had been raised. Soldiers lined the streets controlling the crowd, with sharpshooters on every rooftop.

A deafening, thunderous roar went up from the crowd as the crowned dragon banner of House Wend dropped from the balcony, and trumpets heralded the arrival of King Jaeharys.

Dressed in his finest red robe, and wearing the black steel crown of the Conqueror himself, Jaeharys stepped onto the balcony surrounded by guards. He held his hands up for quiet, and started speaking into the microphone in front of him.

"My people, Twelve blessings upon you all, and by the blessings of the Twelve may we be granted swift and glorious victory! My people... The war we engage upon now to assist our gallant allies is not merely being waged overseas. It is being waged at home! Last night, my brave guards apprehended an agent, a Union agent in the pay of those Rodari scum!"

Screams, shouts of fury and alarm went up from the jostling crowd. The King again raised his hands.

"He sought to uncover state secrets...he sought to kill your King!"

The screams rose again, and Jaeharys shouted into his microphone.

"Gaze now, dear people, on the face of the enemy!"

From out of a window, two guards emerged onto the rudimentary gallows dragging a shatteted figure. His evening with Ser Alain had taken its toll. His hair was matted with blood, his face cracked and swollen.

The screams of fear turned into a cacophony of rage, as bottles, stones and shit flew through the air. The crowd bayed for blood as the guards lifted their shields to defend the prisoner from the onslaught.

The King pointed furiously at the prisoner.

"This foul creature is Jack Ninehands. A cloth merchant, married to a wealthy man from the Union's daughter. Not satisfied with the money made from his trade, he turned his cloak. He took a thousand gold pieces to steal our state secrets, our war plans to deliver your sons and brothers and fathers into the hands of the enemy, and to slit my throat. He is a low dog, an enemy of the Crown, and a traitor. And this, to anyone from the Union present, is what we do to enemies and traitors!"

In a deft movement, one guard looped the noose over the man's head, and the other kicked the leaver to drop the floor. He fell straight through, and an audible crack was greeted by roars of joy from the crowd.

The King was wild eyed, his long red hair flapping as he leaned into the microphone.

"Our enemies will know the true power of the dragon! We shall not cease. We shall not falter. We shall wage total war, and have total victory! Total victory, or nothing!"

He raised his fist in the air as the crowd cheered. One word reverberated from every wall around the square, as the crowds roared as one.

"WAR! WAR! WAR! WAR! WAR! WAR!"

Delkopi, Union Senate House

Though the blade cut into the Premier's leg, the man did not even grunt in pain. Instead, Ser Gerold would find that it was stuck in Salmaan's leg. The premier smiled.
"I forgot to mention this. The Union Commission for the Genetic Sciences has granted me a prototype of their TS-SHAEI DNA editor. Thousands of years ahead of its time, we never would have been able to replicate the effects if it were not for our Benefactor, who has assured us that within a decade He will grant us enough to supply our entire army."
The wound healed quickly, and Gerold's blade slipped out of the wound. Salmaan turned to face Gerold and balled his fist. Throwing a punch with the force of ten Rhodari zápasníci, if it landed would easily throw Ser Gerold back into the wall.

Roskilde, the Waterfront

Although Dennas Hayne cheered just as loud as anyone else when Ninehands was hanged, inside he was worried. Ninehands had been of unknown loyalty to the Union cause in Roskilde, but Dennas hoped the former merchant had not spoken of the Roskilde Unionists, Dennas' little organization. Though small, the Unionists were steadily growing. The discontent, the impoverished, and the richest merchants all flocked to Dennas' message of democracy and worker's rights. As Dennas entered the small tavern that acted as the Unionist headquarters, the crowd inside grew quiet. Dennas cleared his throat and spoke.
"Alright everyone. We all know what happened to Ninehands, so here's a warning. Stay clear of Kungshallen for a few weeks, and stay low. The Union has promised another shipment of rifles and ammo in a month, but until then, use your weapons sparingly during raids. The revolution is almost upon us!"
As the crowd cheered, Dennas kept his worries to himself about what would happen if the king caught wind of this.
Roma Aeterna!

PRO: Autocracy, secularism, socialism, meritocracy, freedom of speech
ANTI: Electoral College, Trump, Democrats, Republicans, Nazism, imperialism, libertarianism, communism, CCP

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