NationStates Jolt Archive

The black suited man faced the map of Dougalich which lay on a large square table. On top of it, sat several figurines that were minature representations of his troops, his loyal military. There were tank battalions, military troops, D.O.G.S. (Dougalich Operations Ground Specialists), and several other types of military forces under his command.

Currently, his attention was on the obvious central purpose of a number of his troops surrounding the Lanamin Region, a region that was set aside for elves.

And they had pissed Raphael off enough...
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One Week Ago

Footsteps echoed in the overly extensive, and defensive fortress that sat on the highest point of land in the grand city of Corasina. Surrounding the city, there was an extended, heavily fortified wall that was the base of the City Dome, another defensive structure of magical and technological design. It truly was a masterful device, powered by only four generators that lay buried deep in the Earth, covered by the walls.

The city, known as Corasina was an elven stronghold in the western realm of Dougalich. The city provided for nearly nine-tenths of the total elven population in Tarlachia.

The door slammed open, allowing Torian to storm into the office of the elven governor. His office.

He cursed the dictator in his native language, his voice resonating in the office. Rarely did he get so angry, so flustered. Yet the dictator was one of those that had that absolute wonder ability to snap his patience.

The reason? The dictator had declined his agriculture proposal once again. All across Dougalich, many were suffering from extensive water rationing, thus also causing the agriculture to decline its productivity. And still, the dictator refused to listen to the delagates that came before him, pleading for his change in policy. Torian was among the most vocal of these delagates, even going so far as to dare accusing the dictator of being a heretic and unpatriotic to his country. The dictator had banished him from his sight and to remain in the elven city for the next one hundred days, his governatal powers stripped completely, the entire city placed in lockdown.

Now the city was experiencing its own version of a blockade, completely surrounded by the Dougalich N.E.M. troops, consisting of regular, exotic and magical beings, all there to simply prevent any elf to exit the city. Elves could enter the city, but they would not be allowed to exit, upon pain of death...
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Present Day

STS systems online. Fuel tanks at 34%...

...Fuel tanks at 45%, downloading targeting sequences...

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The air raid sirens suddenly broke the mundane city life of the Dougal national capital of Kraxonia. Immediately, citizens dropped their things and bolted toward the nearest entrance to the governmental bunkers. Anyone caught outside the bunkers after five minutes would be shot, or otherwise...eliminated. Such was the order, such was the national defense policy of Dougalich.

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...Fuel tanks at 88%, air raid systems engaged...

...Fuel tanks at 95%...

...Fuel tanks at 100%...Request activation codes and permission...

Two sets of hands, on opposite sides of the room, clicked in the two different fifty digit letter and number password.

...Please wait, checking authenticity...

...General Activation granted, stand by for final execution activation...

In the dictator's office, Raphael Clancy entered his own fifty digit and letter password, known only to himself, and hit the enter key.

...Final Authorization obtained. Stand by for launch...

The walls began to rumble as the silos opened up above the complex, exposing the Sphinx missles, Dougalich's pride of technological warfare. These missles were technological in design, but were enhanced in their deadly attacks by being capable of targeting specific magical forces, which would effectively overload any magical force, causing it to collapse, and thus allow for conventional attacks of choice. In this case, it would be followed by a pair of nuclear tipped Kismet missles, more commonly known as the Doom missles.

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Yet, in the capital city of Kraxonia, only one of the several large cities of Dougalich blaring it's air raid sirens (installed in every city and town), was left untouched.

In fact, many of the cities were left untouched. Except for the the elven city of Corasina. It's own air-raid sirens had been secretly deactivated throughout the city by D.O.G.S. squadrons the night before.

An immense red glow filled the skies of Corasina as the defense shield activated, struggled against the six Sphinx missles that pounded and collectively quickly obliterated the shield.

The city sat in shocked horror for several moments. Then, chaos reigned supreme as millions of elves suddenly found their lives to be quite precious...

They didn't get far.

Hardly three minutes later, a dual set of blinding explosions suddenly lit the skies of Corasina. A half a second later, an immense set of dual shock waves and heat suddenly and completely obliterated and flattened the entire city to ruins. Fires sprung up as the initial attack ended and the resounding shockwaves ensued.

All about the city, dead bodies lay still, the burned flesh completely melted and sucked into the heat-saturated atmosphere. The very hills of the city were also literally flattened by the inhumane destructive weapons of mass destruction.

Death lay in the air...

To be exact, approximately 150 million lives elven lives snuffed by inhumane design...

The words filtered across the DSI. There had been communication, had been warning, had been advice. But that was over now. Prime Minister Alysanndra Ellestrea, who normally could be counted on as a dove, had now turned hawk. Most of the other Ministers had long been advocating a... preventative war.

Now the time was come. When an offer of mediation is refused, there are two options. The honourable one, and retreat. Dougalich had crossed the proverbial rubicon.

May the Gods have mercy on that nation's people. Alexander Black said all this and more during his speech. He declared war.

But the creation of that war was left to the Patriarch, old Miklos coming up to the podium and raising his hand and in five minutes galvanizing an entire nation to war in the name of those gods.

A holy war.

A crusade.


~~

A salvo of stars shot from the skies over Blaxon. Buildings burned, women screamed, children died. It was of no matter to the navy. They were heretics and sinners, after all. The Inquisition could deal with the problem later. The Inquisition would deal with the problem later.

Right now, though, there were other things to deal with. A transport swooped down from the atmosphere, and a thousand little cotton puffs swayed in the air...

Raphael Clancy picked up the blue phone that sat on the corner of his desk.

"Speak."

A quick chattering of a voice on the other end was heard.

"Where the hell did they come from?!"

A pause. The voice continues on the other end.

"Well, quit sitting in your kiddie pool and go shit back on those idiots!--"

...More chattering...

"Of course I mean literally you dolt!"

...The chattering voice interrupted...

"You're an idiot you know that? Who the hell appointed you to office? Do you really think I meant for you to shit on the invaders? I want your resignation letter, and your head on my desk in an hour. If you don't, there will be hell to pay. Understood?"

He didn't wait for a response as he slammed the reciever down. "Roanian paratroopers attempting to take over Blaxon eh? Surely they don't understand that this is MY nation! MY OWN!"

He walked over to the map table and pulled out several blocks of red troop characters and placed them just outside the Blaxon fotress. He stood there, glaring at them, as if he could burn them to death with just his eyes alone.

He picked up his "Movment" stick and pushed several regiments toward Blaxon from just outside the nearby now-obliterated city of Corasina. He picked up the red phone, sitting right next to the other one on his desk, and spoke into it, "Send in the 84th and 423rd divisions to Blaxon. Set national threat level to Mincemeat Alert."

He slammed the phone down, and turned on the television. He flipped until he recieved a live military satellite feed that had already been directed toward Blaxon once the initial attack had commenced. He snarled at the screen.

The Lord Captain Commander raised an eyebrow at the report. "According to you, we have approximately 20,000 enemies coming towards us." he had taken over the mayor's residence in Blaxon. Putting his feet up on the desk, he continued. "Now, let's be honest with ourselves, hrmmm...? We need to get one of the pre-fabs up as quickly as possible, and set up an airfield."

"Sir, we have an estimated 4 hours until ETA of homeland defence forces."

"Then we need to move quickly, no? Don't worry...I'll talk to the admiral. He might be able to provide us with some aid from above... your men just need to get the pre-fabs up, and ensure that we can receive our armour and weapons systems."

~~

The defenders were unfortunate in their choice of targets. Blaxon was on mountainous terrain, forcing them to at some points to bunch together. Thus, when the Thunderbolt bombers shot down from the sky and dropped the Thermobaric weapons, it was essentially like sticking a shotgun in a barrel full of monkeys.

And, according to the pilots, far more entertaining. At any rate, at just a few metres above the helpless soldiers, the explosive detonated and fuel drifted through the air. Upon contact with oxygen, a second charge detonated. And the very air itself caught on fire.