NationStates Jolt Archive

[ooc: If you don't know what this is all about - best you keep out of this thread. Too much back-knowledge needed to catch up

This post was bought to you by the About Fucking Time Department]



The two armies, illuminated only by the massive spotlights placed around the battlefield, stood ridged, facing each other, ready to charge at the signal. And thus would the war be decided, finally. Oh, surely there would be another enemy for the Arani Kingdom to face shortly if they won, and there was of course the internal battle being waged within the city of Naraquil, but this was the last remaining external threat. Blyclaaf.

And it was likely that the threat would be neutralised, for the Blyclaafian army was armed with sword and spear and whatever other weapons of steel their enemy had managed to dig up from the Underdark. The Arani army was armed in a similar manner, identical, in fact, seeing that all weapons present on the field were owned by them. Their advantage was that most of them had trained extensively with these weapons, having had it as a compulsory course in school, and had other courses in it upon joining Arani's army. The majority of the Blyclaafian soldiers had first held these weapons five days ago, when the dark elves gave them a crash course in their use. They handled them with some trepidation now, that they were faced against those who knew better their use.

Normally they would be wielding guns, rather than weapons which they deemed outdated. But Annilon's offer had been agreed upon. In return for a safe landing, rest, and some basic training, the two armies would fight in the way which Arani deemed honourable. First, of course, there would be the final round of negotiations, which was little more than a formality. Once you'd gotten to this stage in a war, it was unlikely that either side was about to have a change of heart, yet protocol must be observed.

The leaders of both armies wade their way to the space in between, both looking weary and irritated. They dismounted from their lizard mounts, which had been provided only for the two leaders, and glared at each other.
"So," said the Aranian in fluent English. "Are we going to fight?"
"I do suppose we are."
"You don't sound so pleased with the prospect."
"And nor do you. I thought the drow were always after the chance to kill the surfacers?"
The weapon-master snorted, as if in laughter. "To be honest, I'd rather have nothing to do with your lot. But the great Lord Annilon," he spat. "Demands that we get on with the killing."
"I heard that Sinrë was going to kill Annilon. Wouldn't it be bad for you if this was true?"
"Well, I'm putting money on Annilon myself. He's got those Kalessini on his side."
"Well, how about we wait for news before we go to war? Surely you don't want to be fighting Sinrë's allies if he wins. And if Annilon wins, attack us and all's well."
"Sounds like a good deal to me. We'll wait and see then."



Smoke pervaded the city, it's smell was everywhere, the air filters being no match for the sheer amount of it which was left in the aftermath. From the palace it poured, and from several places in the city, especially where the rebels made their last stand, behind the barricades which were breached in several places.

In the tunnel leading up to the broken gates of the city, bodies were piled high, the many traps of the Llothites having taken their toll upon Sinrë's army. The Llothites had fought and died there too, and in great numbers. They were the fanatics, and had fought in the full knowledge that they were going to die, and that there was no way to escape with the adamantite gates closed.

These gates had been no great obstacle to the invaders, who had used a loaned plasma weapon from Menelmacar to throw them back and melt them into the pitiful mess which now lay several blocks away from where they started, having cleared the defensive structures entirely.

From there the invaders had poured into the solid wall of defenders, and a short truce had to be called after an hour to clear the bodies, which had piled so high that it was impossible to get at the enemy. Still more lie piled there now.

Holes in the city walls show where umberhulks had broken in, and rubble where umberhulks had been stopped. That had been the turning point of the battle, when they had arrived, and more troops able to enter. Slowly the Llothites had backed away from the battle, behind defensive barricades of their own, and the rebels were allowed access to the city, if not much of it.

There had been no time to clear away the dead, as their presence there proves. At once an assault was mounted upon the wall of the defenders, and in some places they fought their way over, but it did not last. With Sinrë absent from the field of battle, the one he left in charge decided to use the Menelmacari weapon again, breaching the wall, spraying rubble into the defending army. Retaliating to the dishonourable battle tactics, the Llothites used explosives to kill those who made it to the breach.

Again bodies mounted, now in and around the breach. More of the wall collapsed, and the Llothites poured back in a spontaneous counter attack, driving the rebels back. Despair came upon the invaders, and the plasma weapon was used thrice more before being destroyed in a torrent of retaliating fire. The Arani ideals of war were ignored entirely as the Llothites began to produce guns and slaughtered their enemy.

The other side of the city tells a different story, though the barricade is breached now, it was not then. Rebels within the city held them, with backup in the form of umberhulks who had tunneled through the all to aid their allies. Sinrë was apparently with them, as was Lithien, but when the situation turned desperate in the frontal attack, they disappeared, and weren't seen again amoung the rebel forces.

A little known fact is that Sinrë was an assassin long before a leader, and was thus able to make his way to the palace undetected, where no fighting had yet reached, yet where the security was the strongest. This he and his cousin had penetrated, and had made it to the audience chamber of King Annilon, who sat there and waited for news. The few servants who had escaped from there told of a duel between the two kings, and how Sinrë's life ended with a sword through his chest, and of Lithien drugged with hundreds of poisoned hand crossbow bolts fired into her.

Rumour says that Annilon left the audience chamber then, with servants bringing the unconscious Lithien with them. This is true, both had managed to escape the next battle, the ruins of the chamber attesting that none in there could possibly have survived. Di'yerni had appeared over the city then, alerted somehow to the dire situation. She had fought off the demons which the Kalessini summoned, and battled the figure who had risen in the air to face her, Nazgar, the advisor to the king.

Both had fallen, the body of Nazgar now adorns one of the steel spikes of the palace wall, that of Di'yerni facing the city ceiling in the courtyard, chunks of that ceiling collapsing under their power.

Within a partially collapsed spire of the palace there lies two corpses of significance, that of Annilon, draped over that of Lithien, a dagger protruding from her chest, facing a wound in his.

However, of course, none knew of this at the time of its happening, and the opposing forces continued to battle with each other. Eventually the barricade was breached and a street battle began, the rebels retreating to the cavern walls and into the umberhulk tunnels, escaping death by fleeing into the Underdark. Triggering many traps on their way out, more Llothites died than killed.

It took several hours, but the fighting began to wane, not so much due to the lack of will to fight, but rather the increasing lack of people able to. Both sides had been depleted from battle or traitors within their ranks, as well as deserters, and it seemed that no side was able to win. When they saw this, more and more faded away from the battle, until it became little more than a brawl.

A few scattered battles were fought, but they served no real purpose. Arani had lost, odd, considering that it was a civil war, but it had lost nonetheless. With all potential leaders dead, and no one willing to sieze the throne and inherit the mess left behind, anarchy began, the people fled the city and sought peaceful places to hide. A few mourned for their leaders, but most of those who cared enough to do so were already dead in their name.



The Arani weapon-master rode his lizard to the area between the two armies again, the Blyclaafian did likewise.
"So, what news?" asked the human.
"They're all dead."
"Who's all dead?"
"Everyone. Everyone who mattered in the war, anyway. Sinrë, Lithien, Annilon, and that Nazgar. No one left to rule."
"Shit. You sure?"
"No, but what I've heard is good enough for me. So, are we to have peace?"
"Hell yeah!"
The drow smiled bitterly. "Glad we could agree. Now excuse me, I must see to my own survival. Do as you will."



In the 666th layer of the abyss, a demon smiled.
It was a good deal, you know
"Oh of course," his half-drow slave replied. "I would have it no other way. So long as I see him suffer."
Of course[i] the demon mused [i]You shall see him suffer, alongside you. Your soul is mine for an eternity
"That I can deal with. In fact, I even thank you. Had you not possessed me, well, I can think of nothing worse than being his slave."
I shall rectify that
"Mayhap. I shall not regret my dealing with you."
As you say. I did swear to have your soul, now that I do have it, I shall enjoy it
"It is good you swore to take his soul too, and now you have that. Annilon had best suffer, I paid much for it."
Indeed

ooc: Well, thank you to the About F*cking Time Department for bringing us this wonderful conclusion to this story. But, it came unexpectedly (sort of not really) so now I'll have to write my part of this. So, if at all possible, no one post until I do please.

[ooc: Feel free to flesh out what happens in any part of this. I just feel like keeping things moving quickly]

The first year had been hellish for the badly fragmented Arani, anarchy just didn't agree with them. With the absence of deterrents for law-breaking, all manner of things went on unchecked. Many people decided to carve out a niche for only themselves and their families in the wild Underdark rather than put up with the chaos of ex-civilisation. Unsurprisingly, most of these died rather horrific deaths. Small towns were set up instead for protection in numbers, but small enough to not have to worry about law breakers.

However, anarchy was still largely the 'system' of choice, even in such towns. In some places religion took the place of government, but this was rare. The wave of faith prompted by Annilon's freedom of religion statement had collapsed quicker than it had began, those with large followings being hit especially hard as it became apparent that it was all bullshit.

A number of cults thrived in various places. Naraquil - or the ruins of it, for less than half of it was still occupied by midway through the year - became the centre point for the worship of Di'yerni, a figure that they new little about but were willing to fill in the gaps with much creative waffle. These cults were far less organised than the churches of the drow goddesses, the closest thing to gatherings of faith being when the Di'yernian holy book was first read to the masses. Worshippers tend to do their worshipping on their own, and sacrifices aren't generally thought of a necessity, or even as a good idea.

With the power vacuum, a few tried to rise up in the ranks in Naraquil and elsewhere to declare themselves king, but the people weren't interested. As such, nothing ever got going except in isolated colonies, where such rulership was inconsequential to the rest of Arani.

In Fardinia things were more desperate. Many of the troop concentrations there were left without supplies, and the creatures which used to be human competed with them for any food in the wasteland. Both ended up killing each other as their main source of nourishment.

Colonies here were successful for a while, the military training and discipline keeping them from fragmenting. Hostile conditions and the threat of both other colonies and the creatures wiped out many of them though, and few remain.

After Derto pulled back from, following the failed invasion of Faradinia and the cathastrophic chemical attack upon Derto itself from Arani, the country was in shambels. A palace coup occured, backed by the Defence Minister and many others, that believed that Henry LeMay no longer was fit to govern Derto. A junta took place instead of LeMay, the chairman was a hitherto mediocre General, but with some great skills in negotiation and persuading, manouvered him to the chairman of the junta. His name was Keill Randor. There was some resitance to the coup and the junta in the military, but officaly they were hastily suppresed. But in reality, they defected to now autonomous regions and continued their resitance.

With the major cities and many other areas been gased and a significant number of civilians perished, some areas that was not targeted or had chemical fallout decided to bail out and not contribute to the rebuilding the rest of the country. No more than three regions decleared independence from Derto. Two in the north and one in the west. The junta promised to not rest until the country is once more united and well. It is a daunting task.

OOC:

Aaaaaargh! I'm very keen indeed to join in with this - positively drooling, in fact, but I'm off on a two-week residential course this weekend. Would you good people be willing to hold off 'til August 8th? Pleeeeease?

'course I'm rather curious about what happened to Irlbilse in that whole mess in the capital. Shame about Annilon - I rather liked him. Fitting end to the whole thing though - if a bit short. ;)

[ooc: Mercifully short. May varied roleplaying goodness spout forth! Anyhow - when you come back maybe we could start a seperate thread to roleplay everything that happened here out in detail. Could be interesting to try and fit it all in with what we know must happen.
Otherwise - in this thread I hope to just give summaries of the following ... five or six years, maybe more depending on my painful drawing out technique. Things will probably turn out that nothing of great importance has happened in your absense :) ]

He sat in the near empty room, nothing but a desk and a lounge chair to take up space within the walls. His face was turned up at the light, the single globe that lit the whole room. His eyes were dry, no longer able to produce tears to show his sadness at the death of his daughter. His mind was in ruins, unable to grasp at the news that was brought to his door every morning. A knock at the large wooden door, which he left unanswered, brought different news. An older man, of an age around 55, stepped into the large room, with papers, books and other articles of the sort.
“Sir,” the older man said, which it echoed between the walls of the all-but empty room, “it’s all over. Annilon has died.”
Mr. Gafety blinked, the first time in weeks, and turned his head down towards the older man. “It is?”
“Ah, yes, sir, it ended this morning. Arani now wants peace with us once again.”
Gafety’s eyes began to focus on the older man, the large black blob which cause his sight to be limited disappearing.
“Well, I guess it’s no use moping around here any longer.” he said as he stood up, the first time in weeks. His legs were shaky, and he lent up against the wall until he regained his balance. “I better see what everyone has done in my absence.”


Mr. Gafety stood up on the balcony, his newly shaven face appearing glossy in the spotlights.
“My fellow Blyclaafians, today is a day that should be of celebration. We have founded peace with our neighbours, Arani, and Annilon…” he stopped. His arms were raised above his head, and he looked around the crowd at the bottom of the building. “However, today and every other day will be of mourning. Mourning for my daughter.”
The crowd fell silent, and the people began to talk among themselves.
“Also, all contact with other nations is to cease immediately, as to prevent anything like this happening again.”
He walked back inside the building, and the people left, stunned at the decisions made by the government.


“How do you fucking like that, huh?” was the main thing to be heard on the ships on the way home, “All that bloody training, and no fighting. This sucks royally.”
The armies destined for battle on Fardinia were returning home, on the same ships that bought them over there just weeks before hand. They were to return home, and be ordered by Mr. Gafety to patrol areas and ‘forcefully remove’ all foreigners from Blyclaafian soil. The other divisions that were still in training were disbanded and were allowed to go back to their lives.

Inside the bunkercomplex where the junta now resides the mood is not of the best. Reports has flowed in about of regions has decleared independence, about military units rebelling and defecting to those regions. But some good reports was also recieved about the tragic final battle in Arani, resulting in a draw and loss for all of Arani and the subsequent end of the Aranian wars. And another one saying that the toxin levels would be in three days virtually gone, but some pocket such as badly ventilated rooms and such would still be harmful.

Following conversation was held by the junta members.

One of the junta members - "Have y'all read this things the former governers of the regions Brylogry, Glyfh and Ertlide have in a joint message to pleaded that "We will always respect Derto and remember it as our mothercountry, let us live as we want and we will help you in the future." Isn't that the biggest load of BS y'all ever hear?"
Keill Randor - "Calm down now, won't you Willard. Steinman, exactly how is our military position and strenght near the rebelious regions?"
Steinman - "Well, our forces are decimated and undermanned as of now. We are in no position to take on all three regions right now."
A asian - "If we are not capable of attacking them, why not bide and gather strenght, clean up our beloved country and they minght see the wrongness of their path they've taken."
Willard - "Yeung, you're out of your mind, if we don't strike now and take back control, we show that we are weak and other regions might bail out."
Randor - "I think that Yang's on to something..."
Willard - "No Sir..."
Randor - "Let me speak, Willard...Steinman and Yeung are both right Willard, we have no power right now, we can't help it. We must deal with the problems at hand, the cleaning of our country."
Willard - "All right Sir, if you see that way, then I can't change it."
A messenger walks in and whispers something in Randors ear.
Randor - "We have a new situation. Blyclaaf is throwing our personell out of their country, it seems that President (hoping that's the correct title) Gafety have decleared that Blyclaaf is from now offlimits from any foreigners, including us."

Lines and lines of foreigners, of many nations excluding those from Fardinia, were marched up to the lifts that would carry them up to the surface. From there, they would be forced over the border of Blyclaaf and the gates would be shut on them. If they tried to get back in, they would be shot by the guards in the towers.

In Derto it was steady progress with the cleaning and rebuilding of the country. Many houses that was to contaminated to be usable, so they torn down and rebuilt with higher standards. Two of the renegade regions Brylogry and Glyfh have been more and more positive to a peacefully rejoining with the their motherland Derto. With the progress with the rebuilding more and more human aid material have stored as surplus.

Following conversation was held by the junta members.

Yeung - I have read report about the growing surplus of aid material, we could store but other could use it as well, right? Such as Arani?
Willlard - Sure, why not.....and give the enemy aid?
Randor - Willard, you have proved yourself many times before as a military strategist, but this is not military questions. Yeung, clarify yourself.
Yeung - Ofcourse Sir. You see, when a country is weak and in turmoil, a hellish mess. There could many possibilities for, let us say, dangerous elements to us. If we could stabilize Arani and get a regim, any regim, and not a anarchy, it would be better for us. Even if the regim that is hostile to us, atleast we would know it.
Willard - Right then, so your plan is to waltz in give aid material and hope for the best?
Yeung - That is correct.
Willard - But wouldn't that require for someone to actually accept it and wouldn't we have to deliver it to somewhere and someone in Arani?
Yeung - Yes. What we could do is to attempt to gain contact with some of the bigger fractions and offer them aid. Besides they are in a bigger than we.
Randor - Yeung, that is an excelent idea, and Willard, you made good points, but we'll try Yeung plan. Well then it's decided we'll try gain contact with them and send aid if they want to. How about coffee break now, yes?

The second year was much the same as the first, with the breakdown of even the newer communities, caused by battles against themselves in many cases. Most of the smaller enclaves managed to carry on, not having enough people for a breakdown of order. Most major issues could be decided upon by a vote, a completely alien idea to the Aranian, yet managed to catch on in certain areas.

Other places, of course, worked fine with the traditional dictatorship, though many shattered when the one in charge made a suitably bad decision. Not that the democratic communities made any less bad decisions, it's just that there were more people to blame it on, and thus the punishment became diluted. Sure, some of the larger democratic areas broke into full fledged fighting over several issues, but it all worked out in the end for the surviving side. An uprising in a dictatorship left them leaderless, or with a worse leader than before, leading to a vicious cycle.

Many of the militaristic surface colonies imploded upon themselves late in the year, tensions brimming over from too much prolonged contact with the same people and no way to escape it, as well as harsh living conditions and the constant threats from the outside, real and imagined. The only thing which had kept them together that long had been the shared fear of being destroyed by the creatures of Fardinia, and a distrust of Derto who had offered to aid them the previous year. Very few had accepted, or even had the means to accept that aid, communications being as they were. Distrust of the foreigners led to them shooting any that may have, for whatever odd reason, stumbled into Fardinia.

The remaining people of these failed settlements turned to preying upon the other healthier colonies and upon each other, with everyone out to serve their own goals, and no thought for reforming society. Being mobile allowed most of them to escape death at the hands of the military leaders or the creatures of the wasteland. Rarely did they have contact with each other, however, and them it was only looking over the top of an outstretched gun, as much of Arani found to be the best way of negotiation.