NationStates Jolt Archive

Some time ago, as Melkoran ground forces attacked Vascilia

Despite its large size, the submersible transport was dwarfed by the buildings along the shoreline of Wazzu. Indeed, the buildings made 27 story wall here, out in what used to be ocean. It was an impressive site even for Private Maloi, who had spent most of his life either inside the city-state or driving military vehicles on the roof of what was commonly called "the mall", the 20-30 story ground building that covered the entire nation.

He spared as many glances as he could as he rolled his mule down the docking ramp, the large vehicle riding quite smoothly. It didn't last long, he was soon inside.

"Joe, where are we going."

"Right, to lot Red-C."

"No, I mean, where are we all going. You made the briefing...."

Joe was silent for a bit, but spoke up, "Command wouldn't say."

"Oh hell."


Wazzu Government Secure Link, Recently

Defense Minister Helena Meyer (Ph.D)was the first to speak up. "Chief, Admiral Wang reports we are ready to go. He wants to know how we are going in."

"As far as I see it," Brian Walton replied, "we have two options. Either we spout propaganda to the Ardans that we have finally arrived under their Lord's grant, or we try and sneak in while attention is still focused on Mars. Either way, the governments of the area know we are comming, it would only be a play for the people."

"And for the governments outside Arda." Dr. James Messer replied. "We don't want to give them the wrong impression."

Meyer spoke up again, "Either way, we're not going to be secure once refugees start arriving...and they will arrive, in force. Escaped slaves, political dissidents, runaway prisoners, freethinkers, and anyone else who is caught under the oppressive thumb on the contenent. We'll get the spies hidden in among them, and the terrorists, fanatics, and other undesireables. Even in Arda, some prisoners deserve to be there."

"And what of the refugees themselves?" asked Education Minister Dr. Zanzi. "They will be an undereducated drain on even our unsocial economy. If we don't take care of them, they will rise up, if we do...thats throwing an awful lot of beggars down the toilet."

"We'll have to deal with that later." Walton decided, "I want everyone to be working on solving those problems as soon as possible, but first we have to secure the territory." Electronic nods filled the virtual room. "Lets sneak in. We can put the propaganda to the Ardans when it becomes a problem, but for now, I don't want to shake the boat. Lets get to it."

And with that, the meeting ended.


Currently, off the coastline of Arda, a land granted by Melkor to spite Wazzu.

The smooth, flat tops of five submersibles broke the surface of the water. Activity was quickly visible to the Ardan forces who doubtlessly tracked the underwater fleet as it approached their coastline...

With the mechanical shove of conveyer belts, Sergeant Mack's APC was the first out of his landing ship's moonpool. 1, 2, 3... he counted the seconds as his vehicle surfaced. *splash* A quick peak out the periscope told the story...the APCs of his group were surfacing behind him, their turrets barely above the water like ironclads of old. On the landing ships themselves, helecopters and VTOL transports were already lifting off after being carried to the deck through elevator hatches.

His computer beeped, his squadron of 10 had all surfaced. A click later and they started moving. Water pressure on the angled front brought the APCs up out of the water, Exposed. he thought. But it was faster this way, 50 knots was better then 10 when you didn't mind being seen.

------

Private Maloi's mule was a large vehicle, and by no means amphibous. That meant he got a VTOL ride to shore. I was right, Hell he thought as the Ardan coastline approached. But at least no one was shooting at him, he could appretiate the view...

...swarms of helecopters, VTOLs, and amphibous APCs rushing to shore from 5 huge landing ships surrounded by a few surfaced support ships. God. I know I've never been religious. But I'll start any church you want Monday if you get me through the next 18 years alive.

*Tagged, response pending*

<Mark for alliance and territorial purposes>

Tag

.::THIS POST FOR RENT::.

[OOC: Honestly, this tag thing has gotten out of hand!]

That's
A
Good point, Nanakaland. :wink:

This is not a tag... this is a pre-emptive bump. :D

*bump*

I want to give Ardan nations a chance to respond (or do nothing) before I advance the timeline.

*bump*

I want to give Ardan nations a chance to respond (or do nothing) before I advance the timeline.

Oh, in that case what tech level are you? For you see I would be happy to come to Lord Melkor's aid.

*bump*

I want to give Ardan nations a chance to respond (or do nothing) before I advance the timeline.

Oh, in that case what tech level are you? For you see I would be happy to come to Lord Melkor's aid.

OOC: About 2364.

Except that you don't understand. Melkor granted this land to Wazzu. This was partly a deal to let him assault Vascilia without Wazzu interference, and partly to spite Wazzu (with the inevitable terrorism that will result against this eventual colony). Of course, thats all OOC information unless you have a reason to know it ICly (not all of it is secret, though some of it is secret even from Wazzu).

So Wazzu isn't attacking Arda...it is securing a land granted to it by Melkor...so that land can be capitalized on.

You have a point but all the same I may end up sending troops if only to observe... As for knowing any of that IC, well I should know about as much as any other Arda member who pays attention to the goings on.

You mis-interpreted aid, by the by. Simply by watching and looking for potential points of weakness in what you built I would be aiding him should a conflict happen later, but that is a different tale.

On refelection though I will probably have to wait to do anything.

OOC: Ahh, I see. So you aren't invading or attempting to liberate anyone-at least in a direct fashion. I guess I didn't read your initial post carefully enough, and was a little confused as to what you were actually doing.

IC:
A messenger of little importance comes before the Overlord in his throne room, and drops to one knee.

"My leige, transports and forces from the nation of Wazzu have arrived at the small piece of Ardan soil that Lord Melkor had granted them," the messenger reported.

"Ahh. Well, although it is tempting to send a flight of bombers over for a pass at them, we shall be levelheaded and leave them be for now," the Overlord mused. "Very well. You are dismissed."

With the messenger gone, the Overlord summoned for his son, the High Justicar Thanos Steelblood, and the head of the armed forces, Warlord Baldur Grimwald. When the two Lords had arrived, the quickly bowed before their sovereign and awaited for him to speak.

"By now you are both surely aware of the arrival of this occupation force from Wazzu," the Overlord said. "They do not share our interests, or the interests of Arda, and cannot be trusted. It would be rash, however, to simply wipe them out in a display of military power. Still, we must be cautious. This is where you two come in. We will blacklist this colony; no one enters Wretchengard from the colony, no one departs Wretchengard for the colony. We will not allow spies to root themselves among us, and we do not need our own people running to the lands of one whom we cannot trust. You, Thanos, will make the legal changes to make it thus. We will use propaganda to blacken the name of Wazzu within Wretchengard, and in time no one will desire to go to this new colony. At this time, we could allow travel to this colony and attempt to infiltrate our own spies. Baldur, you will look into contacting third parties for conducting terrorist raids on this colony. Third parties that cannot be traced back to us directly. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Overlord," the men answered in unison.

"Good," the Overlord said. "Tend to your duties then."

The men left, leaving Overlord Bradley Steelblood alone with his thoughts.

--------------------------------------------

As for an official response from the government, there was none. It was almost as if the Wretchengard administration hadn't noticed their arrival at all...

Future Ardan Colonial Zone

The tracks of Sergeant Mack's APC hit the coastline of the barren land with a dull thud, but the vehicle kept on going. He led his group to the nearest high point of land, a shallow hill that hardly qualified for the name. Then he stopped.

Behind him, the other 9 armored vehicles of his squadron stopped kicking up dust and open their doors...part time soldiers came out. This wasn't a fighting mission, it was a secure and build mission. The weekend warriors of this small squadron were to start an aerospace port. Nearby, another group started a vertiport that would eventually serve the colony.

With the engineers and techs out, Mack took a look around from atop the bump in the landscape.

Thunder transports were landing Mules nearby, large vehicles like Private Maloi's that were set up for any number of functions...including carrying supplies.

More APCs and not a few guided artillary varients were still crossing the sea to shore...yet two large groups of them were already forming up to move inland. They must be going near the boarders, poor bastards.

"Sir, I think we're in the way." came a call from below. A few dirty looks from the construction workers seemed to confirm it.

"Alright Joe, head to the far side of the shore, we'll start putting together a perimeter."

"OK Boss!" The emptied APC kicked into gear, turned, and headed off...the others of the squadron hurried to catch up. We're not engineers but we may as well build that bit ourselves.[i] Mack thought. [i]It may be our lives on the line there one day, and besides, we aren't exactly scheduled for anything else. 'Hurry up and wait.'


Deep under Mt. Cyan

Minister Meyer pocketphone buzzed quietly. Who could this be? She picked it up. Walton. "Yes Chief? -- Quiet so far. It looks like the Ardans are unwilling to resist their Lords will, even with him indisposed for the moment. -- Yes, I'd say they are expecting him back. -- Yes, I'm expecting him back too, not sure when though, he is supposedly immortal. -- Yes, one change. I'd reccomend starting support flights there now. We don't need to violate airspaces, and I don't think it is unexpected. -- Right, VTOLs only until the port is constructed. We might also want so send the ships now too, looks like Arda itself will be calm. The sats show they are mobilizing to fight elsewhere. -- Yes, it seems like on Earth. -- Will do Chief. Out."

Meyer hung up, slipped her phone back into her pocket, and looked again at the 3D display. "As soon as the ports are up, I want stratosbases at all three locations. Keep me informed." A tech nodded, Meyer stalked off.

http://members.cox.net/davage/images/ArdaBadlands.jpg

Private Banage hated patrols in the Wazzu territory in Arda. The badlands were so uneven that armored vehicles were mostly useless here; Banage was on foot. Hiking it wouldn't be too bad if the territory were somewhat good, but instead it was dry, hot, and bare of vegitation. What the hell were the diplomats and politicians thinking? Of course we'd get the worst territory. We would have been better off protecting the Vascilians. But Banage was just a gropo, his decisions didn't matter much.

Two Hawk (http://members.cox.net/davage/images/makeway(DavidCiprian).jpg) fighters appeared from over the next ridge and sped almost directly overhead almost soundlessly. Banage's gaze followed them almost all the way, but his eyes locked onto their source. A barely perceptable mushroom-shaped shadow was all that came through the Ardan smog that collected here.

Skywatch was a floating base, of sorts. High in the stratosphere, the small, few hundread man 'tower' was directly over the Northern-most property Wazzu owned here. It wouldn't last in a fight, but it wasn't meant to. There wasn't anything in Arda it could see that the sats couldn't. No, it was more like a prison guard tower. It probably housed those two Hawks, and it almost certainly contained quite a bit of equipment for monitering and controlling people here.

"Hey Sarge?" he asked, "Tell me again why they won't give us civis to patrol in?"

"You like being a fireball when shot at Banage?"

"No Sarge."

"Good. Look, if we have to defend this place one day, or find people out here," God knows why they would wan't to be out here. "then we have to know the area. If you fly about like those jockys, you miss just about everything. Now pipe down and keep your ears open."

It was good advise. Not five minutes later the squad heard voices comming from around a rather large outcropping of volcanic rock. The patrol went into action, Banage taking the right.

Heart racing, he kept careful track of his footing. Slipping wouldn't tear his uniform even on these sharp rocks, but it would alert whoever was on the other side. His radio spoke into his ear, "Now." and he spun around the final edge of the rock.

The patrol took the group of 7 by suprise. More transients. Banage cursed silently to himself as the shocked refugees huddled in some amount of fear. In the long, hard travel here with almost nothing, being caught by their own governments would invaribly mean death or slavery. Banage wasn't sure why they tried, or how they made it, he just hated how it made his job harder.

His sergeant sighed, "Alright Maddit, call home, let them know to send a van. The rest of you, you know what to do."

Banage found a lookout atop the rock to wait for the civilian's transport thinking Bastards get to fly back to Northtown, and I'm stuck here looking for more.

Sam Ikonal was what you might call an immigrant, or at least he wanted to be. But since arriving in the rumored "Free Zone" he couldn't find a way to become a citizen. Oh, he was free all right. Free to wander about how he pleased. Free to try to find non-existant jobs. Free to try and swim across the vast ocean to a better life. Free to starve to death in this god forbidden barren landscape.

Yea, free. he thought. At least I had enough food in my stomache to worry about starving then. Something caught his eye, a crowd was gathering.

A few quick steps and he was across the dirt street that seperated rows of homemade tents of the shantytown he called home. He pushed his way forward as much as he could, close enough to see two armored figures pushing their own way out. Close enough to see that a sign had been posted to a pole at the center of the group.

"Whats it say? Whats it say?" many of the crowd asked out of order, interupting each other. Like Sam, the others were illiterate. Ardan nations didn't exactly offer the best of education to their lower-class citizens. Someone else spoke up, the crowd hushed.

"It says that Brian Walton is comming here to give a speech."

"Who?" Sam asked in chorous with several others.

"It says he is the leader of Wazzu. 'Cheif Executive Board Member' or some such nonsense."

There was a burst of activity to Sam's right. Pushing, then armored hands clasping around the shoulders of a tall nearby stranger. For a second, the strangers long grimy face showed from underneath his hood, and Sam got a glimpse of his ears. An elf he thought shockingly as he watched the captive be drug out to a waiting hovervan and shoved in the back. The two armored figures stepped onto platforms on the side, grabbed handhelds, and were lifted into the air with the vehicle.

Yea, free. Sam didn't bother watching the black van fly off towards the restricted zone, he knew what awaited people there. Everyone did, no one spoke about it. Instead he turned his attention back to matters at hand...like how he was going to get this weeks meal.

well another overrated tag.

---Post deleted by NationStates Moderators---

Pam had worked hard for her life here. One of the first slaves to sucessfully escape captivity, elude boarder patrols, and endure the badlands, she was also one of the first new 'citizens' of this new colony. The title awarded her a close and crowded spot to Brian Walton, Wazzu's executive as he gave a speach to those like her.

"...and we realize, I realize the hardships that people here are going through. That is why I am among you now and not hidden in some European office. That is why I am overjoyed to announce that we are finally able to get large amounts of aid into this nation."

As a citizen, Pam had gone through her manditory 6 months of military training, and 2 years of military technical training aimed at civilian life. It was enough education to get her a job in the nearby small but growing aeroponics farm. While these people still lived in makeshift tents, she was living somewhat comfortably in an absolutely tiny but private apartment in town. She had luxuries never known as a slave, but that wasn't enough to make up for her loss.

"Begining Tuesday, large numbers of Wazzu reservists will arrive here to build homes and schools and farms and hospitals and powerplants. But they don't come to build it themselves, they come to show you, to teach you, to help you build it for yourselves. They will come in large numbers so that we can more then quadruple the speed at which we can train recruits, quadruple the speed at which we can grant you citizenship."

When Pam first came, she had found comfort in another soul. That man wasn't a man, was an elf, had been an elf. But they took him away. Pam rubbed her growing belly, the tiny life inside was all she had left of him. She knew they would take her baby too, there was only one thing left for it. The two would die together, and her child would never have to know this hell before he was taken away too. She tightened her grip on the plastic knife inside her pocket.

"The first steps will be some better but temporary structures. Public restrooms and showers, real tents and cots, fresh water and plentiful food." Cheers sprang up. "The second will be the faster acceptance of people for training at new bases, to start their two and a half year march towards citizenship. And as the first group finishes their six month training, they will start building the first schools for your children and hospitals for your sick.

"My soon to be countrymen, we are this close to a better life for everyone. Have courage, have hope, have endurance in this, the end of the begining of the rest of your lives."

More cheers rang out as the national leader stepped down from his small podeum, escorted by only a small guard. Pam took the knife from her pocket and...dropped it as the crowd shoved and squished her hoping to clasp the hand of Walton. Through the moving bodies and stomping feet, she could catch glimpses of it laying dully on the dry ground. But even were she not pregnant, she could not reach it. Her oppertunity passed, likely never to show itself so well again.

******
******

Half an hour later, the crowd was still exiting the dusty lot being called a fairground. In the distance she could see a lone elevator snaking it's way up a thin cable towards the base in the sky. She was so close, had been so close, and now her quary was so far away.

Above the elevator a light flashed, steadied a hot, glowing red. The cable parted, the elevator plummited hundreads of meters to its doom. Pam had not gotten Walton, but someone else had. The leader of Wazzu was dead. Pam cursed. The Gods had conspired to take away her beloved, were conspiring to take away her child, and had now taken away her revenge.

:twisted: *TaG* :twisted:

ooc: See, I make it creative! Now its not out of hand, its just difficult to write.

"How could he be so stupid? There has been terrorism there almost since the first refugees crossed the boarders. Hell, I'm suprised he didn't catch a bullet earlier. It sure as well would have been less tracable!"

Dr. Messer sighed. "Look Helen, I know-"

"No, you don't. It was Stupid. The days of popular canidates out among the people is centuries old, we don't even go out here. The man hadn't been in a crowd since he was 16, what was he thinking at 186?"

"He was thinking that unless some changes were made fast, all those people there were about to rebel, kick us out, and fall back under Melkor's thumb."

"Changes?" Helena Meyer responded, "We had planned those changes since day one."

"Yea, but the people there didn't know about it. And do you think they would have believed anyone else? Even you or me?"

"No, no they wouldn't. But he didn't have to Martyr himself."

"I don't think he meant to. We didn't even think we may have handed citizenship to a turncoat, who could have predicted the laser?"

"A traiter, or a terrorist."

Silence was observed on the secure line for a moment.

"What were those changes James?"

"Trade."

"With Arda, are you insane?"

"Insane? Not yet, at least not according to my doctor. Look, we want to stick around a while, yes? If we start trading, then suddenly we become a valued part of their economy. Moreover, they know that they become a valued part of ours. If we start trading, suddenly the prospect of war with them becomes a little less likely."

"Do you have any idea the rift this could cause with our normal trading partners? Neither the MFTA nor Yut is likely to be happy."

"Helen, who are you talking to?"

"Minister of Diplomacy, right." Helena sighed.

"Look, we don't trade weapons to anyone anyway, so we are not going to send them to Arda. We'll concentrate in other areas, areas they are lacking. Say, consumer goods? How many humans have to clean up after the orcs, I'll bet they would love to get their hands on Sunset electronic insect repellers...and I'll bet the orcs themselves will fall over themselves buying S&M gear."

"Your sick."

"Yea, but I'm right. We could also get into other markets, like skyscrapers. You can't tell me that anyone builds more or better then we do."

"So we organize a diplomatic session?"

"Hell no! Do you want to go to that god forbidden place? Besides, if we take it to too high a level, your right, there will be international outcry. No, instead we let the corps do the bargining, on a buisness level."

"Let?"

"Who do you think convinced me?"

"Nike of course. Where is he anyway?"

"Donno, haven't heard from him in a week. Back to buisness, did we catch the bastard?"

"Yea, dead. He suicided before we could stun him."

"Damn. Helen, your people are supposed to be better then this."

"So are yours, shuddup. Look, with Walton gone, I'm in. I'm instituting loyalty checks for any new citizen there wishing to stay in secure government."

"Loyalty checks? How?"

"Therians."

"The lizzards? Your going to psych people with lizzards?"

"Better now let anyone here you say that Mr. Diplomacy. Yea, I'll offer good pay. Maybe we can build them an outpost with some of the defense budget."

"Well Ms. Defense, I may make us look more like Ardans, but your making us more like Ardans."

"Shuddup James, I'm saving your skin."

The securenet session ended.

******
******

"We've all seen the scene several times." Behind the newscaster, amature video shows the Executive's elevator crashing into the ground. "And we all know who did it." Shot of a dead guy, who upon being rushed by federal agents, 'cut' himself with the military solid-state laser vehicle. "But what we don't know is who will be taking his place. Walton's place that is.

"With Minister of Defense Helena Meyer sitting in, Wazzu's corporations are already showing signs of getting ready for the first major elections in 170 years. Stay with South Northmen News in the comming days to see who the lead canidates are, what they think, and who polls say will win."

It's too bad Wang isn't around anymore, he would have gotten a kick out of this. Jeff Smidges, the CEO of Oren Moore Inc. looked around at the other atendees. With few exceptions, most were old men, their hair growing white as their bodies developed immunity to that wonderous life-preserving drug, Rejuv. Not that he would have liked the situation better then any of us do.

"So we've lost a fair amount of profit and a considerable amount of investment in Mars." Brandon James was by far Lifework's largest shareholder. "So as I see it, we have two questions to answer. Do we seek revenge? And if so, how?"

Smidges responded, "If we answer the second question, then by default we have answered the first."

"We all know the first question is retorical." That was Bob Sanow respondeding, CEO of Hermes Spacelines. Nods followed hiw point of view throughout the room. One big rule of buisness was, you don't let other people get away with hurting your buisness. It just invited more people to try.

"OK then, how?" Smidges brought the question back to the forefront.

"Is there a way that makes a profit?" Sanow answered the question with a question.

"No." everyone said in unison. This revenge would cost, but it would be all the sweeter for that hurt.

"An economic strike?" Smidges asked.

"Too risky." TransCorp CEO Richard Nayes stated. "Wazzu Arda is too vulnerable."

"Hmmm, yes, vulnerable." Sanow agreed. "Whatever it is, it has to be denyable."

"How about the invitations?" Smidges offered.

"Thats not the same kind of denyability!" Sanow responded in shock. Hermes Spacelines wasn't on the executive board, its open to international trading stock didn't allow it to be. It didn't come as a suprise that it's CEO wasn't used to this.

"Yes." James answered grinning menacingly, "But what a move!" More nods. "A vote?"

Only two hands remained down. "It is tallied, we strongly reccomend the move to Meyer."

http://members.cox.net/sincityraiders/images/ArdaBase.jpg

Recruit Student Rachel Moore hiked in silence around a portion of a newly expanded base in Wazzu Arda. Something was going down, the facts all added to it.

After her full six months of boot camp, something weird had happened. She was given a test, a mental test, in front if a huge alien lizzard. They said it, no he was psychic. She passed, but Rachel sure as hell didn't like having someone, some thing else roaming in her mind. She didn't think the alien liked it either, it looked pretty depressed...for a reptile.

Then there was this whole patrol thing. Hundreads of recent graduates had been put on security training. Rachel looked over to her partner, her mentor of at least a few more years experiance then she. The woman was certainly friendly enough, but discouraged talking about what was going on. That was unusual. On the other hand, her hyperalertness at the moment said it all. The base had been expanded for a reason, something was happening.

Maybe its the food and aid Walton promised. she thought. The poor bastard. Wasn't all that smart to be comming here in person though.

http://members.cox.net/sincityraiders/images/Delta1.jpg

Rachel's gaze drifted upwards as a CG freighter flew overhead, and her eyes tracked it until she felt an elbow in her ribs. "Ouch!"

"Don't get distracted honey." RT Deborah chided.

Rachel smiled, but brought her gaze back down to Earth. At least I'm not one of the poor technician blokes. she thought, word had it that they had a lot to build over the next couple weeks. Rachel made sure not to spread that word...she had passed her security test, she was determined to pass the next.

******
******

Aboard the (space) escort carrier Firestar, Commander April west was getting ready for her flight. The briefing had been short, a mere recap of what was known about Ardan space forces. "There will be no attacking by any ship," the captain's voice rung in her ears, "but you'll be fully outfitted in case they want to cause any trouble."

West shuddered, as she slid her hand along her 15 billion dollar machine. "Yes Rex, you and I again. Lets be safe and hope no one wants to play hard, huh?" she wispered lovingly.

******
******

The Wazzu First Fleet, Wazzu's oldest but still reliable wet navy ships, sailed slowly towards port in Wazzu Arda. It was a fine day, and out here the sea breeze still allowed fresh air near the accursed continent. That was good, it helped to relax the crew.

"Sonar, how's the search going?"

"Captain, I can't see a damn thing...we're making too much noise."

The Captain smiled in satisfaction and looked out the window at the civilian cargo ships being escorted. Excellent.

"Roger WATAC - ETA is 30."

The air-freighter skimmed along the water, borrowing some surface effect. That lowered operating costs and made corporate happy. It might mean a nice bonus at the end of the year too if she kept the efficiency up.

The coast approached and she cut the engines for a nice glide in-land towards the pads. She could see other freighters down below, as well as yards of cargo modules of various shapes and sizes. Everything from wooden crates to the newest RO/RO could be spotted if she had cared, but she just wanted to get the bird on the ground and get a drink.

As soon as it hit the tarmak Captain Eisenherz stepped off the air-freighter and strode rapidly across the tarmak. There was a port official there of course, and she thumbed the cargo manifest as she passed. She knew what was on her bird - she had walked the length of the bay before taking off. Computer hardware, machine parts, medical equipment, basically a lot of high tech gear.

Her butt hit the stool in the pilot's lounge and her finger was up. "Cold one, right here."

Menelmacari freighters began to arrive as well, in rather large numbers... carrying much the same sort of equipment as the Sunset ships. It was anyone's guess why so many random numbered shell-corps would want to send so much of...well, everything... to this horrid place in the shadow of the Enemy at the ass-end of the earth. But send it they did, and the freighters went, because the jobs paid well. Very well. Well enough not to ask questions.

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/sirithil/sirithilnosfeanor.gifLady Sirithil nos Fëanor
Elentári of the Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar
High Queen and Lady-Protector of Elvenkind
"We have known freedom's price. We have shown freedom's power. We will see freedom's victory."
~US President George W. Bush
We Love the Iraqi Information Minister (http://www.welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com)
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A strange atmospheric disturbance occured when a renegade air current launched itself in the opposing direction of the Wazzu Arda base at nearly Mach 5, causing a serious shift in cloud patterns which could be seen from a global standpoint. The Invisible Air Elemental, used as perfect scouts, ripped through the sky, almost without friction, over the mountains, rivers, and forests of Central Arda, which had grown to be an actually beautiful place, rich in fertile earth, and growing a number of animal life and food for all. This was especially apparent on the newly inhabited mountain sides, where the High Step clan was involved in agricultural business, peacefully growing and tending crops to send throughout the region of Arda to feed the Orcish masses. They had been assisted by the Golden Sky Clan's Earth Elementals, whom had changed the rotten soil into prime dirt for growing the ripest and freshest crops in the region. The Rivers and lakes had turned from a disgusting swill to a purified drinking water due to the Water Elementals which kept it fresh and lived inside it, advancing life in those biomes as well. The weather was consistantly controlled by Kalessin and Elemental Forces, so every day was a planned day and through magic, there'd be no natural disasters. It rained when they needed it to rain, it was sunny when they wanted it to be sunny. On hot summer nights, they'd invoke a calm thunderstorm to watch with a primitive amazement. Life in Arda, though stressful to it's leaders, was a pretty nice place to live on if you were Orc-friendly. The High Orcish Clans, deeply imbued with ancient magicks from their Second Age of Creation, kept it very stable. Unfortunately, due to their sparsed civilization throughout the region, they've really not been able to affect the coasts of Arda, which still appear to be monstrous and horribly intimidating.

Within the Sacred Grove of the Golden Sky, the Air Elemental Landed. A covern of Six always were present in the Grove. The First among Air, the First among Fire, the First Among Soil, the First among Water, the First among Animals, and the First among Nature. These were the titles given to the most powerful Warlocks, Druid, and Beastmaster. As the Invisible Being touched down, only the Air Warlock could see it until the High Orc commanded that it made itself be known. The Air turned frosty, so it's form appeared as steam. A being measuring 10 feet tall, and roughly humanoid. It spoke in a tongue that only Warlocks could ever hope to figure out, as it was the language of the Elemental Planes. The Elemental informed the Coven of the Grove about the Wazzu Arda base and formation. As well as the ships docking into it from that side.

The First among Air dismissed the Elemental to its scouting duties. He then informed the Coven about what was reported. This news was dire indeed. With the EnheilRas and the High Council of the High Fist Clan away to Aelosia at the moment, there'd be little in the way of an official request. However, there'd be no logic in not letting this thing go unchecked. The council called forth a Courier from the Nearby Dorn Forest, where the Clan of Dorn Riders had settled, growing and domesticating the animals for transportation and high calvalry use. The messenger, Seviraloth Kedietram, was to ride high to the Hills toward the Dark Circle to get to the Shrine of Lopnel, where Riga was seated. Riga was the head of the Elite Squad of Juggernauts, a cadre of Paladins, Crusaders, Inquisitors, Cavaliers, and Priests of the Clan of the Red Blade, Lopnel's finest. The hot race over Arda's fertile valley took a few days. Though it would have been easier to send an Air Elemental, as every clan carried an Air Warlock for the purposes of translation and messaging, the Golden Grove felt that this message would carry more drama if told through the wisping breaths of a tired and ridden Orcish Calvalry Unit.

As the dorn, nearly driven to death with travel, collapsed at the base of the Hill, Seviraloth leapt down, and rushed up toward the Temple. His splint mail chinged and his battle boots clanged. His Battle Axe and shield dragged him down with each step as their weight increased with his fatigue. Yet, his High Orcish will be done, and his primitive Orcish stamina and physical endurance kicked in. He felt his adrenaline rush through his veins, and in a sprint, carried himself through the doors of the Religious Temple where Riga sat and surveyed.

"Sir, there's a new settlement on the coasts of our region," Seviraloth reported. "It's getting some pretty heavy backup from nations commonly thought of to be enemy forces. The Grove of the Golden Sky has gotten scout reports and feels that action must be taken by the clans to secure this installation to our own intelligence."

Riga looked up slowly, and grinned maliciously. The High Lord Inquisitor stood up, and walked from the ThroneShrine to the middle floor. He looked directly at Seviraloth, pointing at him, his finger stretching out as a 4 foot long skell elongated from his gauntlet. "The Juggernauts shall ride, but tell those hippies that I am not their slave to do their bidding. Lopnel exists for conquest, not for reconnaissane. The Red God does not follow the words of nature-loving elementalists. We will check this settlement, and make contact. But I want 20 Elementals on our back in hiding in case things become hostile. Give me some big ones too, not those pussyfooters that I could fend off with an iron pipe."

Riga looked around the glorious temple dedicated to the God of Conquest. He shouted, "Arm Up! Call forth the Dorns! We ride at Sundown!" The Holy Knights rushed around for their armories.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took 20 hours to get to the boundries of Wazzu Arda. Riga had picked 400 High Orcish Knights and 30 High Orcish Priests to attend him in this endevour. A Dozen Warlocks and a few Druids and a couple Beastmasters from the Golden Sky accompanied their Red Bladed companions. Most were dressed in Blood-Red Armor with the Sigil of a Great Sword dripping blood over the world embossed on their armor. The robes were red as well, though in a different color than the Fire Warlocks. Those who carried shields carried with them the Guards of Lopnel. The Knights rested before arriving to Wazzu Arda in the Mid-Afternoon. The region was overcast, and humidity was high. It felt like a severe thunderstorm was but a few hours away. Nearly 500 Dorns appeared before the territory, marching slowly. They sould stop but 200 feet from the Gates of the Base, and wait for acknowledgement from whomsoever had jurisdiction to do such a thing.

Approaching atmosphere... reducing relative velocity... touchdown predicted in 3 hours...

The Scarab thought to itself as its black form drifted through space towards Earth and Arda. Flipping on its back, the schip bounced over the top of the atmosphere on its shell once, twice before sinking into the atmosphere and beginning final descent.

60 kilometers altitude... 52 kilometers altitude... 45 kilometers altitude... 39 kilometers altitude... 34 kilometers altitude... 30 kilometers altitude...

As it approached land, the ship inverted again as splshed down into the sea forward-edge first, sending up ten foot surface waves as it decelerated in the water, finally sinking into the ocean 1.5 kilometers offshore, the shiny blue-black shell just below the surface.

In his throne room deep within Blackstone Fortress, the Overlord Bradley Steelblood seethed. Wretchengard had been watching the Wazzu colony very closely and very quietly since its creation, and Intelligence was very quickly aware of the Menelmacari presence there. Furthermore, they had detected readings that were very similar to those of the Snel. This was not good at all. Arda had never had a friendly relationship with Wazzu, but neither were they openly hostile. The same could not be said of the Snel (who attacked Melkor's forces on Mars), and certainly not of Menelmacar. The logical conclusion to the Overlord was that Wazzu was allowing the enemies of Arda to establish a stronghold so that they could invade in the near future. The audacity of it made him growl.

"I want a transmission sent to the Imperium informing them of these events, in the strange event that they did not notice," he ordered an underling. "Highest encryption. See if Melkor can explain what the hell is going on..."

The servant bowed and scurried off, and the Overlord slouched back in his throne, brooding to himself as he stroked his beard. While we won't make a move on the enemy yet, we will be ready, he thought. If our enemies expect to catch us by surprise, they will be sorely disappointed.

The big Wretchan ruler rose from his throne and made the long descent to the war room deep below Blackstone Fortress. From there he contacted High Admiral Ammarcus Dolmont of the Crimson Navy and Sky Marshall Morduk Tur-Garad of Sky Command, informing them of the situation. Both commanders assured him that both Wretchengard's blossoming gravfleets and it's gravitic aircraft would be ready to lay waste to all of Wazzu colony at his command.

"Good," the Overlord concluded simply, dismissing the men.

The Overlord sat in the war room for quite some time after he had finished talking to the commanders, puzzling over every possible reason he could think of that the enemy would so blatantly come to Arda...

It only took a few hours. Vast sensor arrays of nearly unparalleled power - equivalent, in fact, to those aboard the massive Menelmacari exploration ship Elrandir, and lots of them - bloomed all along the border like great trees. The huge arrays were modular in nature, and owned by the MIDF... some of the 'computer equipment' brought aboard the freighters. They could be put up and taken down in hours, and were pointed outwards, towards Angband... almost all that the Enemy had not taken especial care to hide, they would be able to see...

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/sirithil/sirithilnosfeanor.gifLady Sirithil nos Fëanor
Elentári of the Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar
High Queen and Lady-Protector of Elvenkind
"We have known freedom's price. We have shown freedom's power. We will see freedom's victory."
~US President George W. Bush
We Love the Iraqi Information Minister (http://www.welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com)
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Wazzu is a technological nation. There are few citizens with psychic abilities (About 0.001%), and even fewer practice magic (almost always secretly). Without such mystic programs, and the few Therians (from their protectorate) operating chiefly for loyalty tests, no one knew about any elementals. For that matter, terribly few Wazzuians or non-naturalized refugees had any concept of what an elemental was, or that such a thing existed. And so it was that these spies remained unnoticed.

But a peculiur weather event was noticed, both by people on the ground and by an extensive real-time satelite monitering network. Rumor spread quickly. "Magic." people said, "The Melkoran's come to get us." some guessed, "The Menelmacari come to urusp us." guessed others. No one knew, and that made it all the more frightning. People were scared.

Word reached Wazzu's leaders....

******
******

It took 20 hours to get to the boundries of Wazzu Arda. Riga had picked 400 High Orcish Knights and 30 High Orcish Priests to attend him in this endevour. A Dozen Warlocks and a few Druids and a couple Beastmasters from the Golden Sky accompanied their Red Bladed companions. Most were dressed in Blood-Red Armor with the Sigil of a Great Sword dripping blood over the world embossed on their armor. The robes were red as well, though in a different color than the Fire Warlocks. Those who carried shields carried with them the Guards of Lopnel. The Knights rested before arriving to Wazzu Arda in the Mid-Afternoon. The region was overcast, and humidity was high. It felt like a severe thunderstorm was but a few hours away. Nearly 500 Dorns appeared before the territory, marching slowly. They sould stop but 200 feet from the Gates of the Base, and wait for acknowledgement from whomsoever had jurisdiction to do such a thing.

OOC: I guess this means the nation of High Orcs boarders Wazzu Arda too? Or are you hiking through Melkoran land? It doesn't really matter which, as long as not every claims to have a boarder with the tiny, resource depleated, barren parcil of land that Melkor granted Wazzu. That would simply make for too weird a map.

Also, Wazzu Arda is not surrounded by any kind of fence/gate. The first 5.5 miles or so is completely barren, dirty/sandy sorta land. There are defensive structures behind that buffer, but no wall. There are about 5 floating bases (much like futuristic, stratosphere-level oversized blimps...no gravtech involved, just hot air and vacuum).


IC: Lieutenant Hernandez Masao flew second in his sub-squadrun of 5 Hawk fighters, patroling the wastelands. They had been given orders to intercept a small, marching (yes, marching!) order of troops approaching the boarder. Flying low over rocky outcroppings, Masao noticed a change in the outside environment. "Commander," he spoke up through the radio, "looks a bit humid outside today."

Indeed it was. Wazzu Arda was typically dry, extremely dry. It was rare to get humidity over 5%, outside it was quickly approaching 100%.

"The briefing said it wasn't mechanized, what did you expect?" The Commander shot back, "Now quiet down, we are getting near."

Right, Lt. Hernandez thought, Magic. A well educated Wazzu citizen and trained pilot, the thought of magic didn't have the same effect on him as it did the refugees, but it still sent a shiver down his back.

The five fighters broke over a rough hillock and came to a very quick stop in front of the orcish troops. They hovered, turned towards the nearest Wazzu base, and moved slowly...at about a marching troops' speed. An invitation?

******
******

Far away, along the shoreline of Wazzu Arda (where humidity WAS normally a bit higher), the military convoy of merchant ships arrived. And as the freighters and tankers moved into port, the flat tops of 10 huge submersibles broke the surface of the calm seas behind them. Still only half the length of the much more massive Menelmacari grav transports, they were still quite large for troop ships, and were double the number of Wazzu's initial securing forces. With their appearance, the reason for the loud, active pinging of the surface ships became apparant. Such large submarines move too much water to be quiet, they needed noise to hide.

But despite their nature, relatively few combat vehicles disembarked. The amphibous assault ships unloaded troops via large air carriers.

Over the next 24 hours, their purpose became evident. Those troops worked with those recently, locally trained to build. Apartments were built, aeroponic greenhouses, schools and government buildings and buisness complexes took shape on the port city of Freegate, and to a lesser extent in the central city of Walton (renamed). Few appeared elsewhere in the small nation.

And citizens moved into the new apartments while Wazzu construction troops moved into shiny new barracks. The not-yet-naturalized stayed in their camps...but the camps were improved with tents, artificial springs, and aid huts.

1943 Zulu
Drakonian Intelligence Agency Headquarters
Drakonia, Drakonian Imperium
Near Augustus

"Sir?" The aide rushed into the office of the Assistant Director of the Drakonian Intelligence Agency (DIA). "You might want to see this."

The Assistant Director dropped the Resi Gameboy had been holding as his head shot up. It took him a second to realize it was just a subordinated.

The aide produced a manilla folder. "You better take a look for yourself, Sir." There was an odd tone to the aide's voice, as he plopped down the folder on the Assistant Director's desk.

Annoyed the Assistant Director reached for the folder after picking up his Gameboy off the floor. He opened the folder and started reading, then stopped. He looked up. "Wazzu," he asked.

The aide nodded.

"Wazzu Arda?"

The aide nodded.

Assistant Director dismissed the aide, grabbing his Gameboy the Assistant Director wondered if there was some way the Imperium could use this it's advantage. Maybe there was some way to use this to save Rukemia. There was a cry of anger as the Assistant Director realized he had lost the level of Super Mario: Arda when he had dropped the Gameboy.

OOC: Glorified Total WAste of Grammer.

OOC: I guess this means the nation of High Orcs boarders Wazzu Arda too? Or are you hiking through Melkoran land? It doesn't really matter which, as long as not every claims to have a boarder with the tiny, resource depleated, barren parcil of land that Melkor granted Wazzu. That would simply make for too weird a map.

Also, Wazzu Arda is not surrounded by any kind of fence/gate. The first 5.5 miles or so is completely barren, dirty/sandy sorta land. There are defensive structures behind that buffer, but no wall. There are about 5 floating bases (much like futuristic, stratosphere-level oversized blimps...no gravtech involved, just hot air and vacuum).

OOC: The "Nation," per se, of the High Orcs is but a word. It is empty and Hallow. It is the combination of 13 Clans, led by the race called the "High Orc," maintained by the strict, disciplined manners of the species. The nation is constructed of mainly "lesser" Orcs, but contains dozens upon dozens of different species, and different races of those species. The clans themselves act as independant nations, and are located in various places within the entire region. Thus, the "Nation" of the High Orcs is actually more of an Empire, where the head of the Empire would be the Clan of the High Fist, led by Manus Trebelium, whom holds the title of EnheilRas, which is an extinct language only the High Orcs speak (actually called Orcish, comes from the Palladium Dimension [WHOO! RIFTER #13!]), means WarMaster (Actually "Master of War"). Thus, it's very simple for them to send a force almost anywhere in the entire region pretty quickly for a nation who's technological level is pre-renaissance.

About the fence thing: There's a Fence on your picture of your base. I meant that fence. Then again, if it doesn't exist and it was just *there* on the picture, then my bad. I felt (Or assumed) that they'd have relative ease in just "coming in." As a force of Orcs riding on Dorns (which could easily be mistaken by Warg Riders), would probably scare the hell out of any scouts and have them rushing back in hysteria about a Melkor Reaction. However, the force is indeed an intimidation factor, and in case things go awry, to insure that *someone* survives to tell the other clans. They, however, have no hostility, other then their visual appearance, toward anyone. They're really just curious...though Riga wouldn't've been the best person that could have been selected.

On the weather: It's currently being controlled within the Golden Grove. They're slowly raising the humidity through minor air elementals and have sent a few water elementals into the neighboring sea. They're attempting to invoke a thunderstorm, as it's time to wash the crops. For efficiency's sake, they just do a very very large one (Over 100 Elementals are used to keep it surviving), and let it sweep the entire region and disappate it afterwards.

I heard you left for a trip somewhere. Hope you had fun. I haven't been on IRC since Sunday due to exam week. I'll come on late one morning ('cuz that seems to be when you show up).

IC: Lieutenant Hernandez Masao flew second in his sub-squadrun of 5 Hawk fighters, patroling the wastelands. They had been given orders to intercept a small, marching (yes, marching!) order of troops approaching the boarder. Flying low over rocky outcroppings, Masao noticed a change in the outside environment. "Commander," he spoke up through the radio, "looks a bit humid outside today."

Indeed it was. Wazzu Arda was typically dry, extremely dry. It was rare to get humidity over 5%, outside it was quickly approaching 100%.

"The briefing said it wasn't mechanized, what did you expect?" The Commander shot back, "Now quiet down, we are getting near."

Right, Lt. Hernandez thought, Magic. A well educated Wazzu citizen and trained pilot, the thought of magic didn't have the same effect on him as it did the refugees, but it still sent a shiver down his back.

The five fighters broke over a rough hillock and came to a very quick stop in front of the orcish troops. They hovered, turned towards the nearest Wazzu base, and moved slowly...at about a marching troops' speed. An invitation?

"What do you make of that Riga?" Zaliseth Lothigo, High Rider and Minor Inquisitor of Lopnel asked. Zaliseth adjusted his helmet. "Great Birds of Steel, spewing fire from their collective arses."

Riga, Grand Inquisitor and Mad Paladin, Chief of the Clan of the Red Blade, laughed heartily. "They must have quite the diet. They certainly do move quite fast. That's perhaps the fastest thing I've seen fly."

"Aye, but what about the Elementals? They're twice as fast as that I bet."

"Fastest thing I've seen," Riga said in quick retort. He then shoved Zaliseth, whom tumbled down the side of the dorn, his foot caught in a stirrup. "I tire of your quibbles. Off you go!" Riga slapped the hind side of the Dorn, and it rushed along the side of the line, dragging Zaliseth along with it. Riga laughed aloud, the other knights took amusement in Zaliseth's embarrassment. The tough armor would protect the High Rider from any injury, save minor bruises, but it was quite a sad thing to come to socially, being b!tchslapped by the chief.

Voerd Onalin roared outward, "Lord Riga, should we take chase?" 'Forward!' Voerd Onalin was a Thruster, which was a title given to those High Orcish Knights whom lead melee charges into the Battle's fray. They were indeed very courageous, and those whom come out alive were celebrated as heroes. Voerd was a bit too adoring of the title, hence his Nickname. It'd get him killed eventually. . . He'd already taken almost two dozen arrows from his body. A couple of times he's even been magically resurrected. Three of his limbs had also been restored. He's even had a replacement eye. That was a hell of a story too, though it never seemed to impress the females. 'Forward!' was indeed married to the army, and it's quite the harsh woman in which to come home.

Riga thought for a moment. It was clear that their presence was noted. But he couldn't count on any parlay unless he met with those in charge. He assumed that they'd be regarded as a threat, which is why Riga chose to stop here. It wasn't as if Nimro Siege Weaponry was being brought out behind them. Riga made sure to leave the trebuchers at home (High Orcs have the design mastered. Yay for Trebuchers!). If it was meant to be a sign to come inside, Riga would make sure to knock on the door first. "Let us go closer, then we will--"

A loud clang interrupted the High Inquisitor as Zaliseth's helmet struck against a pointed rock.

"Someone grab that asshole and sit him up right!" Riga growled. "We have work to do. Onward!" He pointed his skell forward, and gripped the reigns on the dorn, moving ahead. The Hordes followed.

OOC: Ahh, distributed nation, OK.

The fence was just the perimeter of a base inside the territory, much like you would find around any military base. But I understand why you thought so.

A quick note on continuity: As I understand it, this should all take place just before the war between Arda and Yut heats up. Menelmacar has just finished putting up its big sensors (hasn't even turned them on yet), Sunset and the Snel (and Wazzu "engineering" personnel) are all just getting settled in, etc.

In the interest of matching continuity between threads, I think it is best that we just speed things up, eh?

******
******

The five "metal birds" led the orcish contingent straight towards the nearest Wazzu base. Fewer then 10 miles were covered from the boarder. The troops of the site that greeted them were...not that impressive.

Vehicles on treads didn't do too well in the rocky badlands granted Wazzu, so they were sparse in number. Wazzu also had a disdain for both large robots (seen as large, thinly armored targets) and (grav-style) hover-tanks (seen as expensive and a waste of resources), so neither were present.

Troops were present in large number, most of them wearing no more then sidearms as they went about construction and support buisness. There was a small airfield and several buildings. More then likely, this was more of a forward logistics base then any type of fortress.

Standing not 500 meters from the base stood an older man, an officer by the looks of his silver trimmed flat black uniform. He carried only a simple sidearm, but was braced by four (only four!) well armed soldiers that appeared to be wearing some sort of heavy armor...or was it a light powered armor? Regardless, the group could not hope to stand alone against the 500 incomming soldiers.

The ground attack aircraft flew directly over the groups head, then made quickly for the small airfield. The officer and his guard stood vigil as the hoard bore down.

OOC: Ahh, distributed nation, OK.

The fence was just the perimeter of a base inside the territory, much like you would find around any military base. But I understand why you thought so.

A quick note on continuity: As I understand it, this should all take place just before the war between Arda and Yut heats up. Menelmacar has just finished putting up its big sensors (hasn't even turned them on yet), Sunset and the Snel (and Wazzu "engineering" personnel) are all just getting settled in, etc.

In the interest of matching continuity between threads, I think it is best that we just speed things up, eh?

Well, I'd have disagreed with the sensors already being built yet. It's sort of like Menelmacar's on haste and getting two turns per round. Not to mention that the Orcs arrived at the territory before she began to build them. I'd rather them be *in construction* personally. Most likely because if they're finished, Riga will want to know what the hell they are (On a primitive technology level, they'd really have no idea what the hell they are, as they look like large boards. He'd have guessed they were Jinto Beds [A kind of Giant]). If Riga finds out what they are, he probably won't enjoy the Spying on the region.

The five "metal birds" led the orcish contingent straight towards the nearest Wazzu base. Fewer then 10 miles were covered from the boarder. The troops of the site that greeted them were...not that impressive.

Vehicles on treads didn't do too well in the rocky badlands granted Wazzu, so they were sparse in number. Wazzu also had a disdain for both large robots (seen as large, thinly armored targets) and (grav-style) hover-tanks (seen as expensive and a waste of resources), so neither were present.

Troops were present in large number, most of them wearing no more then sidearms as they went about construction and support buisness. There was a small airfield and several buildings. More then likely, this was more of a forward logistics base then any type of fortress.

Standing not 500 meters from the base stood an older man, an officer by the looks of his silver trimmed flat black uniform. He carried only a simple sidearm, but was braced by four (only four!) well armed soldiers that appeared to be wearing some sort of heavy armor...or was it a light powered armor? Regardless, the group could not hope to stand alone against the 500 incomming soldiers.

The ground attack aircraft flew directly over the groups head, then made quickly for the small airfield. The officer and his guard stood vigil as the hoard bore down.

The expeditiary troupe did not gallop toward it, but instead took them time. Lines of 100 were formed behind Riga, which slowly degenerated into a near perfect square in a block of 22x22. This was done without command or question, and if seen from an aerial perspective, would seem quite impressive from a visual standpoint. They stopped but a few meters infront of the base. The blood red helmets of the Knights taking in the visual aspects of the shabby base, Riga dismounted, his thick plated boots mashing against the dirt. The First Line did the same, a few of them reaching into the feed bags and taking out a small piece of carrion, most likely an incapacitated or slain rabbit, small fox, or bird, and fed it to the dorn.

"Pretty sad looking settlement," Voerd noted. "Humans aren't exactly military geniuses when it comes to efficiency." Several of the Red Blade clansmen grinned and nodded to his words. In the experiences of razing huge Defensive Citadels and Fortresses built in the Apex of Magic and Elf-Dwarf Civilization (which at the time reached hundreds of millions on both sides, and those were the forces), most of the Battle-Hardened High Orcs had seen a large variety of encampments. This was laughable at most. Perhaps their reasoning was flawed in that technology did indeed make things better.

"I, Grand Inquisitor Riga of the Red Blade, call out he who calls himself leader of this settlement!" Riga demanded. "He who calls himself stranger to the region of Arda, homeland of the Orcs! Show yourself so I may know your face!"

The sky was quickly becoming overcast. The sea was beginning to get unruly, when waves and tides gaining strength and losing it's pacifism.

OOC: This takes place right after Menelmacar's fleets appear over Arda in orbit, and their ill intentions become clear. I'm posting it now because I've got nothing better to do, but you guys (Wazzu and High Orcs) can go ahead and finish up whatever interaction you're going to do, since it's taking place before this happens, if I understand correctly.

Wretchan air units, so everyone understands what I'm talking about:
Air Corps = 4 divisions, 256 squadrons or 3072 craft
Division = 4 wargroups, 64 squadrons or 768 craft
Wargroup = 4 wings, 16 squadrons or 192 craft
Wing = 4 squadrons, 2 groups or 48 craft
Group = 2 squadrons or 24 craft
Squadron = 12 craft
Flight = 6 craft or 1/2 squadron
Raid = 3 craft or 1/4 squadron

All craft are gravitic and top of the line.


IC: At one of Wretchengard's largest airfields outside the capital of Vhaldruin, pilots scrambled to their craft, prepping them for launch. They had been given the go ahead; the Menelmacari presence in Wazzu's Arda colony was to be...exorcised.

A whole Wargroup was being sent, consisting of a group of WB-16 Seraph-class heavy bombers, a group of WI-6 Warlock-class interceptors, a wing of WF-12 Wraith-class air superiority fighters, and two full wings of WF-10 Wyvern-class fighter/bombers. It might turn out to be overkill against the elves, who as far as they knew had no defenses in Wazzu colony, but a quick victory was imperative. The airfleet left Wretchan soil and soared through the air towards the small portion of land that Wazzu had been granted. As the airfleet drew near, the Wargroup's commanding officer opened communication with the Wazzu bases there.

"This is Wargroup commander hailing Wazzu bases. Enemy forces have been detected entering and operating within the colony's boundaries," the commander said in a harsh tone. "We are forced to remove this threat to national security. Despite your collaboration with the enemy, we are willing to offer you the chance to surrender. Stand down your weapons and wait for processing by Wretchan ground forces, and you will all live to see your homes again. We will only ask you once, and you had best respond quickly."

The Wargroup continued sailing through the skies, and the pilots and other crew calmed themselves in preparation for the thrill of battle. No communication was sent to the elves; in fact, command had made it quite clear that no elves were to leave Wazzu colony alive, no matter how many little white flags they might wave...

OOC:
Wretchengard, could you please put it into a new thread. I'll gladly RP this with you, but I am worried that it will mess with continuity. {{EDIT: Maybe you could simply start the "Arda Front" thread of the Yut/Arda war...there is bound to be one eventually anyway, at least then, when it happens, people will have a thread for it....}}

High Orcs, the invitation to Menelmacar to put troops into Wazzu Arda came out sometime last week. There was plenty of time for that nation to set up large sensors, have them ready to work, and put them in boxes. It should take relatively little time to simply deploy them after all the previous setup.

Also, Melkor said he first noticed the thread 5 days ago (I thought it was much longer ago), that was plenty of time to ask for a slowdown of events. It's kinda late now.

But as I understand it, Menelmacar only put sensors there, not troops/fighters/gravships. Sunset and the Snel on the other hand have troops and equipment in Wazzu Arda now.

I'll try to get together with Melkor and make a basic map, then with Siri, Sunset, and Snel to see where their assets are located. That ought to help us out a bit.


IC:

Standing not too far in front of the hoard, their leader's words were quite easy to hear. The lone officer took one step foreward and waited.

Upon second look, he was small for a human male, 5 foot 4. Come to think of it, so were those four armored troopers. [[OOC: RP note, most people in Wazzu are a good 6-10 inches shorter then most others around the world.]]

OOC: Alright, I will start a new thread later tonight or tomorrow.

The Emperor, Gorrm, takes notice of his father's acquaintances of the nation Wazzu and their activities. The data-streamer is locked in to all channels showcasing this string of events.

(IE, tag)

--edit--

High Orcs, the invitation to Menelmacar to put troops into Wazzu Arda came out sometime last week. There was plenty of time for that nation to set up large sensors, have them ready to work, and put them in boxes. It should take relatively little time to simply deploy them after all the previous setup.

OOC: It really didn't matter to me either way. I just gave you the choice, which would really help conversation go away. Riga means the base no harm, nor any of these new "Ardans."

Standing not too far in front of the hoard, their leader's words were quite easy to hear. The lone officer took one step foreward and waited.

Upon second look, he was small for a human male, 5 foot 4. Come to think of it, so were those four armored troopers. [[OOC: RP note, most people in Wazzu are a good 6-10 inches shorter then most others around the world.]]

(OOC: High Orcs are average 6-8 feet tall. So they will be 1-2 feet taller. Riga is a small guy, only 5'10". This is opposite of Teel, whom is 8'6". He's a stereotypical "Hot-Headed Midgit")

"Give your name human," Riga demanded. "I have come from the Temple of Lopnel within the Mountains of the Dark Circle. I have come to see what you wish to make upon this wretched part of our beautiful and sacred region. We've seen what humans do to their environment, so we're quite concerned over how quickly you may attempt to destroy the land." Riga would look for any reason to legitimately bully these people. The Golden Sky's concerns were good enough for the moment.

Zaliseth took off his battered helmet, and tossed it to the ground. His gauntleted hands felt across his forehead. He shook his head and looked up, seeing an array of large white beds. "What in Tark's bosom are those?" he exclaimed.

Voerd looked at Zaliseth in a glance, then turned his attention to the objects of which he was questioning, and looked back at the b!tch-Knight again. "They look like siege shields to protect from boulders and bastilla spears. This place would need a lot of defense, with their metal birds and all." It was a fair reasoning behind Voerd's guess, and very believable.

Etorekath Brelavudd, a leading Cavalier of Lopnel, drank from his canteen, screwing it back and setting it into the travel satchel. He wiped his mouth, and shook his hand once to splatter water and drool from his silvery skell. "I don't trust 'em. It looks like they're preparin' for somethin'. It can't be good for the region's stability."

"Quiet!" Riga cried. "Let the human speak for his settlement. What is this place and why have you come? I only see humans within your gates. Why are you to be within Arda and be without Orcish allies? Do you not understand that this region is ours and that it's purpose is to serve our kind? What have you say?"

The officer cocked his head to the left, as if trying to understand a strange dialect. "You think this land is yours? It, and you exist for one purpose, one being. But that does not matter." With no time left to answer earlier questions, the man concentrated on the last. It would be the most important.

"Your smart, for a..." the black clad man squinted his eyes, "whatever you are. Your answers lie in a hypothetical. That big goon besides you hits you, would you back down?"

The officer cocked his head to the left, as if trying to understand a strange dialect. "You think this land is yours? It, and you exist for one purpose, one being. But that does not matter." With no time left to answer earlier questions, the man concentrated on the last. It would be the most important.

Riga laughed. "Yes, that's quite true. Our Clans do exist for one purpose, the ChumRas Orka. My Clan does exist for one Being, the Red God Lopnel. You must have done your homework, or taken a very lucky guess."

"Your smart, for a..." the black clad man squinted his eyes, "whatever you are. Your answers lie in a hypothetical. That big goon besides you hits you, would you back down?"

Riga turned to the left, where Voerd stood. Voerd gave Riga a very confused expression and shrugged. "He wouldn't have the balls to hit me, because he knew he'd be slaughtered by the reprocussions." The High Orc's eyes rolled toward the back of his head for a moment in cerebral assession. His lips curled slightly, his jowels curving in a devilish grin. "You mean to admit this place is a staging point for an invasion or our region? You mean to roll your machines of destruction towards a nation here? You certainly must be kidding." Riga turned around and shouted out, "My Clan! This Human has spoken words of battle towards our lands!"

The normal thing to do would be to laugh at it, but the High Orcish race are not boastful. They are a noble and proud people. So when such a phrase was muttered throughout the ranks of the squad, all went silent. After precisely three seconds, every single Knight pounded his gauntleted fist against his breastplate in an extremely loud clash. Then, the psinking sound of each gauntlet, most carrying two, extending a thin, sharpened, curved 4 foot blade, and a double-finned axe-like buckler springing from it as their Skells shifted form into that of battle. The Simultaneous action of this occuring to the few hundred Knights was indeed a sight of true military discipline at the core.

Riga looked back at the man. His voice was lower in tone, carrying with it every hint of warning, "I'll say this once more. This is a region of Orcs. I could give a dragon's fat ass whether or not some self-proclaimed God or Demi-God chose to sit here and gripe about his fucked-up face or not and build boats that could fly in the Heavens to compensate for not having a penis. I could care less what other races have chosen to decide that there's such a thing as good or such a thing as evil and began to label everything as they saw fit. I could care less that the likes of humans have the gall to begin to build on this coast in this deadland miles and miles away from anything and die of starvation or monster attack.

"But what I do care about, is Orcs. Orcs that have chosen to ignore your petty rivals and battles for the superiority of stupidity. Orcs that have chosen to live their lives for their own kind, to work selflessly and tirelessly to change this land from something of Hell, to something that most human languages could never describe with their dull adjectives. Orcs that have chosen to stay within their devout circles of Faith, believing in themselves as a Race, rather than sinking into the slavery and fear of those of greater power. I care about these Orcs. As long as you respect those boundries and insure that I don't need to care about you because you learn to care about these same Orcs, I surmise that we may be getting together rather nicely, and you may earn yourself a rather nice chance at survival.

"However, if I am to learn that you indeed are to be using this as a base of operations to begin the destruction and dismantlement of this region which OUR clans, and NO ONE else has worked for years to put together and fix, then I must apologize, for I don't much approve of your settlement's existance."

Riga took a step back. "So what is your word, human?"

As the high orc spoke, the officer's face betrayed a moment of suprise, a moment of introspection, and a moment of realization. And when the leader finished, the human officer grinned and laughed, lightly, almost to himself. "I like you orc! Your rage and pride blind your intelligence, but you control them anyway. And now, you have opened my eyes.

"You asked my name before, I am Captain John McIntire. I assure you destruction is not our intent. Come, let me return your sight-giving favor." he continues joyfully, jesturing towards the base, "Bring a...an entourage if you like. Your company may set up camp where they like."

This is disturbing....
As news of events on Mars reached the newly established Ardan Node, production stepped up- photovoltaic sheets were raised to float on the ocean's surface as fast as they could be fabricated from the sand sucked from the ocean floor, tendrils of neuromuscular web sank deep into the seabed sucking up nutrients and providing anchorage, and eggs and spores were released into the water- along with some useful viroids. Streams of oxygen bubbles rose to give the illusion that the ocean boiled as hydrogen was stripped from the water. Combat readiness would be reached in the minimal time necessary, and then Melkor would pay.

As the high orc spoke, the officer's face betrayed a moment of suprise, a moment of introspection, and a moment of realization. And when the leader finished, the human officer grinned and laughed, lightly, almost to himself. "I like you orc! Your rage and pride blind your intelligence, but you control them anyway. And now, you have opened my eyes.

Riga wasn't sure of that comment about blinding his intelligence was a compliment or an insult. It confused him. He didn't want to express the matters over that, and used some common sense to regard it as a compliment. This human wasn't petty enough to use sarcasm to entice the Grand Inquisitor into razing the entire base. Lopnel kept guard and assured Riga that the humans had no idea about the two gigantic Earth Elementals resting under their feet. If Conquest over this land was put in question, no clan would do it better than Riga's Clan of the Red Blade.

"You asked my name before, I am Captain John McIntire. I assure you destruction is not our intent. Come, let me return your sight-giving favor." he continues joyfully, jesturing towards the base, "Bring a...an entourage if you like. Your company may set up camp where they like."


"John eh?" Riga said, while thinking, What a weird name, even for a human. Riga had never seen a human before. They didn't look too much to boast about. He felt he could snap them in twine over his knee and never break a sweat. "I will take your offer, human John." He turned towards the Clansmen. "At ease! This Human has offered harbor." The hundreds of Orcs slid their skells into a gauntlet position, and many dismounted. They headed for the extra Dorns, which were used as pack animals, carrying tools, extra provisions, arrows, camping equipment, and generic items.

"Zaliseth, Voerd, Etorek, Seviraloth and Zigokor, you five shall accompany me." Four of the Five were Knights, wearing armor and such, but the fifth, Zigokor Cerikin, was a Priest & Healer of Lopnel, whom carried a 7' Staff of hard teak, with a flawless ruby gem incrested as an Orb into the pole. He wore no armor, save the standard dress of a red robe, sleeveless, and hide mocassins. Zigokor's hair had been dyed black, which was different from the natural orange hair of the Palladium Orcs, as well as the High Orcish race. It slung around his right shoulder, resting on his chest.

"Show us this rudmentary base, human John."

This is disturbing....
As news of events on Mars reached the newly established Ardan Node, production stepped up- photovoltaic sheets were raised to float on the ocean's surface as fast as they could be fabricated from the sand sucked from the ocean floor, tendrils of neuromuscular web sank deep into the seabed sucking up nutrients and providing anchorage, and eggs and spores were released into the water- along with some useful viroids. Streams of oxygen bubbles rose to give the illusion that the ocean boiled as hydrogen was stripped from the water. Combat readiness would be reached in the minimal time necessary, and then Melkor would pay.

Water Elementals reported the massive damage to the Ocean Floor as they streamed through the rivers of Arda that spilled into the Sea. They would turn into giant golems of Ice and march through the land as they approached the Golden Grove. THe Natural world would ignore this phenomenon, and the Clans all knew what they were. Only those ignorant of Magic, or those whom would illegally spy upon the land would question the sight of an Ice Giant walking upon the world.

A council was met within the Clan of the Golden Sky to decide what to do about this threat to the Oceanic Environment. The Intelligence informed the First among Water that the being seemed Organic, and noted to the Warlock of what was occuring molecularly around it, as the Elemental had the ability to sense everything that was happening underwater in a small range.

"We have no Navy, we cannot assault this entity," spoke the First among Nature. "We should inform other nations of its existance and persuade them to assail the situation."
(Accept)

"It's not too hard to build a boat and jam a blade into it, is it?" rhetorically asked the First among Fire. "A single Fire Elemental could rain Hades upon it until it shriveled into ash and floated away. You said it yourself that the Elemental spoke of its organic qualities. Flesh into Cinder, my brothers!"
(Accept)

"There's another way," suggested the First among Animals. "We can use that which has been granted to the Brotherhood of Water, and entice the Animals of the Sea to fight for themselves. If it were to defend itself, we will have a case about this destroying the biomes plant and animal life. With environmental support, it will be simple to blow out of the water, no pun intended. If it refuses to, then the animal life will cut off it's nutrients and it will die without anything to sustain it. It's win-win."
(Accept)

(Click here to Dismiss this issue)

The half kilometer walk back to the base was short, and on the way Captain McIntire launched into a fairly lengthy 'eye opener.'

"Are you familiar with the group conflict principle?" John didn't wait for a reply, "Maybe not by that name, but, it states that given two groups of people in conflict, each will see themselves as devided and their enemies as united. Until a moment ago, I believed you to be minions of Melkor."

John paused and began on a seemingly unrelated subject. "You said your people were motivated towards making a paradise unimaginable to me." he said, thinking magic to himself, "That much I believe.

"My own people are motivated by greed, it comes from a survival instinct. The caveman with a bearskin slept better then one without, and the caveman with a bow ate better then one with only a knife. To this day, our heritage screams materialism!"

He hesitated again for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "We traded this plot of land by turning our heads when the dark lord choose to attack a nation on another world. Our intent was trade. Trade brings profit, creates wealth, and Arda is an untapped market. But before we could open negotiations, Melkor betrayed us. He attacked that other world again and did a lot of damage to its young nature. At least we thought it was a lot at the time.

"In his destruction, he hurt our wealth and our pride. We sought revenge, so we opened this land to host the militaries of his most hated enemies. The effort proved mostly futile. We had hoped elvish troops would stay as an insult, but they did not come. They left only equipment, and Morgoth betrayed us and struck again.

"The biosphere, the young, delecate nature of that other world has been all but destroyed. The plants wither and die, the sparse animals suffocate, and many who did not pass on in the first war now lie in painful disease and anguish. Many of my people are dying, as are millions of others on that world. We sought paradise and trade, and he destroyed it."

McIntire paused to breath now, but not for too long. "Morgoth has angered many people, not just my own. Many governments lust for his blood, and others for his power." John looked at his guest, being sure to make eye contact, "They may come here, and they won't care for your land, or for ours."

The short chain-link gate ahead opened before the group arrived, and the armored Wazzu troopers took station around the embasy appearing more worried about keeping people away, then keeping their guests in check.

"Those others, and even my people still see Arda as one force united, and themselves divided. Unless we find a solution to punish only those responsible, your people and your land may suffer."

OOC: I haven't posted the Arda/trium and co earth war thread. I am a little bit confused as to what to include in it. IIRC Wazzu, did you not say in the OOC thread that you were no longer going to be a part in the war? If so, that would mean that you would be retconning the Menelmacari and Snel landings at Wazzu colony, and I would have no need to bomb them (or you). Is that what you meant? That's kinda my understanding of how it would work...

OOC: I haven't posted the Arda/trium and co earth war thread. I am a little bit confused as to what to include in it. IIRC Wazzu, did you not say in the OOC thread that you were no longer going to be a part in the war? If so, that would mean that you would be retconning the Menelmacari and Snel landings at Wazzu colony, and I would have no need to bomb them (or you). Is that what you meant? That's kinda my understanding of how it would work...

OOC: The Menelmacari, Snel, and Sunset landings in Wazzu Arda have nothing to do with with Yut/Arda war. They are a direct result of Melkor's first use of groundburst fissionables on Mars (see the Operation Roundhammer (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=120396&highlight=) thread).

I have not been invited into the Yut/Arda war thread, have not asked for an invite, and do not want an invite. The petty immature egowanking that has gone on their has disgusted me, and I've lost a lot of respect for a fair few players (though I have not ignored anyone).

If you attack Wazzu Arda, then any response by Wazzu, Wazzu Ally, or nation based in Wazzu Arda will take place outside the Yut/Arda storyline/RP thread. I suggest you be very aware of this if you really wish to attack.

If you do decide to attack, then again, please make a new thread/topic. I created Wazzu Arda partly as an OOC (and IC) compromise with Melkor, and partly because of RP value. I don't want to destroy that (though I welcome and will adapt to any changes).

OOC: Oh I read Operation: Roundhammer, I just thought that the action in Wazzu colony was to be included in with the Arda front of the Arda/Trium war, as you suggested before.

Maybe you could simply start the "Arda Front" thread of the Yut/Arda war...there is bound to be one eventually anyway, at least then, when it happens, people will have a thread for it....

If you want it seperate from the Arda/Trium plotline, that is fine. The fact is I don't really have any choice in the matter; Arda is at war, and if the enemy is blatantly setting up shop so close to home it would be completely out of character for me to not drop the hammer on them. So yeah, I'll go ahead with my attack regardless. The extent of the violence and destruction against Wazzu colony itself is largely left up to you; the Wretchan's are more concerned about the Menelmacari and co than Wazzu, who has made no directly hostile moves.

I will post the thread tomorrow. I would do it now, but I really should get studying.

Ciao,
Brad (Wretchengard's player)

Like a fungus, the metamorphing ship sent out tendrils growing through the seafloor, occasionally sending up off-white fern-like plumes supported by a sponge-like silica fiber skeleton like a fungus would send up mushrooms. Faster than the original could grow, however, eggs took root on rocks, sand, and seashells and began to grow out towards each other, building optical-quality silica fibers along the way.

While the original was contained within its black ceramic shell, the offspring remained purposefully exposed. The occasional fish came along to examine the new growths, only to find itself pulled in and trapped in neuromuscular fibers that slowly drew away the nutrients contained in its body while assimilating the fish's neural system into its own. The spores and bits of web broken off by struggling fish floated freely until latching onto seafloor crustaceans, providing not only new neurons and nutrients but also a shell for the webs' own neuromuscular fibers to pull on, as well as other fish and even the occasional seaweed.

Oren Moore Inc. Tech Jerry Sands breathed a sigh of relief as the last scan showed up on the monitor...nothing was under the soil.

Not many people knew, but Wazzu officials had been extremely worried of late. The titanic nuclear detonation in Angmar not a week ago was bad enough in its own state...but what if the Imperium had hidden one under the soil here?! It had been something that could not be risked, and Sands had been flown out to this hellhole without a chance to say goodbye to his family.

Even with the extensive range of modern seismic and magnetic imagers, it had taken time to comb through all of Wazzu's Ardan colony. But it was done. Melkor had spared no expense, and Wazzu Arda was at least safe from internal explosion.

Sands wasted no time writing up his report, the sooner it was in, the sooner he could go home. Right?

******
******

"So whats that Cheif?" One of the local guards asked Madine Pran.

"Couldn't tell you."

"Oh common, I know we aren't supposed to talk and all, but I'm cleared. Besides, if I'm going to risk my life for it, I want to know."

"Couldn't tell you."

"You mean you won't."

"No." Cheif Pran answered, "Psychological block. I can't."

"Oh." the sentry replied. That suited that. If high command was willing to instil mental blocks, it must be important. The soldier turned back to standing watch as the more senior Pran finished working.

Etorek & Seviraloth pulled the reins of two Dorns behind them, mostly carrying light provisions and tools, as they trailed behind Zaliseth & Voerd, whom stood out on the sides of the mighty Riga, sternly catching the eye of any who would look upon the leader of the Clan of the Red Blade with a grim expression of a single, plain-as-day phrase: Get Away. Zigokor paced along on the back of the Grand Inquisitor, his keen staff pumping up and down as he walked. The orb fluctuated lightly in hues of blue to red, across the light spectrum, reverberating every 30 seconds or so.

Riga seemed to laugh at the speed given by the human-John. "Spare me your bleeding heart Human-John. You think any of us actually care what the one named 'Melkor' does? The only thing that displeases us is his enslavement of Orcs to do it. If anything was left to my decision, a Great Liberation would take place and allow all Orcs throughout the World under their one True Orcish Leader, the EnheilRas. As I understand it, he only uses his Orcs to die. Ours tend not only to live longer, but live happier, and are much more proud of their heritage, This is due in fact that millions of Orcs and other demihumans have successfully fled from their nations. Well, fled isn't the right word. They've been accepted into the Clans under the jurisdiction of the Orcish Doctrine.

"Yet again, your sense of wealth is misplaced. Would you believe that in our Pure Orcish Society, we have no sense of wealth?" Riga turned behind him, and shouted at Zaliseth, "Retrieve the gold bag." The Orcish Knight nodded, and went to Etorek's Dorn, and picked up a rather hefty bag. He sped up and gave it to Riga, whom handed the large leather sack to McIntyre. It weighted about 50 lbs, and was filled with gold coins and dubloons, where if a carbon dating were to take place, would file them as being millions of years old, and containing elements that were nonexistant. "How much value would you put into this bag human? It has no value to our society. It's not strong to make weapons or armor. It's barely enough to use as a conductor of electricity, only when purified by the Fires of the Blazing Hammer. Take it as a gift, as I'm sure you'll find a much greater pleasure of making trinkets with it," Riga grinned.

"Am I to understand that you would justify the destruction of our peoples and our land solely due to one who has used it to live? Where our time habited us, our leaders were on the frontlines, carrying their weapons with us. Even now, the EnheilRas is one of the strongest and most skilled Warriors in all 13 Clans. Would not you rather consider your dispute in a melee with the very leader whom you would call enemy. No better defeat is that than one more direct yes? This thought the EnheilRas has taken on many occassions, and dozens of Dwarven Kingdoms fell to our domain, or shall we say the Elves' domain," Riga said in a quirked brow and a mild grin, "when the EnheilRas slaughtered the Dwarven Kings in one-on-one combat. Times were much simpler then, and men much braver. . .If you could call them men, I knew your kind wouldn't.

"As I understand it," Riga began. "This world was dead to begin with. It was broken up between different nations of different thoughts with very sketchy and easily shattered alliances. Any clear thought would have predicted it's inevitable destruction. Why get upset of it's Fate predestined? The only way to secure a paradise is to do so alone. The only way an Eden can be reached is by one creator. If you don't realize that accepting other trains of thought is a self-destructive behavior leading to the corrosion of the single main idea is truth, then yet again, there's still a lot of evolution your kind must reach.

"Oooh, do not believe the region not to be united. Our 13 Clans are very united, and that's more than enough to repel any single invasion. I do not doubt that the other flags herein would raise to defend their own borders, but ours fly higher to the protection of the region. Do not you receive the kinmanship of our kind? Orcs do not quabble with each other nearly as much as humans. We realize that we are dying away like the Elves and Dwarves before us, but we do so in a much more dignified way."

Like a fungus, the metamorphing ship sent out tendrils growing through the seafloor, occasionally sending up off-white fern-like plumes supported by a sponge-like silica fiber skeleton like a fungus would send up mushrooms. Faster than the original could grow, however, eggs took root on rocks, sand, and seashells and began to grow out towards each other, building optical-quality silica fibers along the way.

While the original was contained within its black ceramic shell, the offspring remained purposefully exposed. The occasional fish came along to examine the new growths, only to find itself pulled in and trapped in neuromuscular fibers that slowly drew away the nutrients contained in its body while assimilating the fish's neural system into its own. The spores and bits of web broken off by struggling fish floated freely until latching onto seafloor crustaceans, providing not only new neurons and nutrients but also a shell for the webs' own neuromuscular fibers to pull on, as well as other fish and even the occasional seaweed.

A baker's dozen tribesmen from the Golden Sky had arrived on the shores, following the coastline to bypass the borderline security forces of Wazzu Arda. These were druids, warlocks, and beastmasters, with a single Knight with deep azure blue hair, wearing armor colored the darkest of navy. The Orcs stopped on the beach to look at the node. This was their enemy, an enemy to the environment, and an enemy to the region. This was a parasite, a virus. A barnacle growing on the hull of their vessel. It was to be removed. The two Water Warlocks, the two druids, and the two beastmasters stepped into the water to a level of near submergion. The other six warlocks of earth, fire, and air, began to inscribe Circles of Summoning within the sand, grabbing tools from their dorns'. The Orc from the Blue Hair Clan kneeled to sit down, observing the horizon for any human or elf threat that would have the gall to stop them.

After a long moment of thought, with a heavy bag weighing down his hand, the Captain finally spoke up. "You do not understand, let me be plain.

"Wazzu is the last attacked Martian nation not wishing to destroy these lands." His hand went wide, indicating the barren landscape. Giant mechanical 'trolls' were constructing a building in one area, while hovercraft zoomed outwards from the small verti-port towards parts unknown. "But the lust for vengence is growing."

Capt. McIntire looked up into the orcs eyes, "You know that feeling, that urge. We will not stop our friends revenge on one who has killed us."

McIntire waved in a soldier watching the group pass from the wayside. "Order our finest, have it delevered in the hanger." He ordered, and got a prompt "Yessir!" The messenger ran off towards a low-hung building.

"We are interested only in wealth. Trade brings our Eden, not war. We don't care about racial mixing or purity, our shared goal drives us. And still, we are independent, free. In our culture, honor belongs to each person, not to their master.

"My honor is at risk. To keep it, I must give this back." The Captain handed back the bag of gold. "But to appologize for my insult, I offer my hospitality."

McIntire stopped in front of a large hanger door, prompting the others do do likewise. With only the slightest of sounds, it opened. Workers inside took the hint, and left their projects as they were.

Suits of armor lined the walls, and one of the metalic birds sat gutted on a rack in a corner. But the middle of the room held a table with a fair amount of food and drink and enough chairs for all.


EDIT:

A baker's dozen tribesmen from the Golden Sky had arrived on the shores, following the coastline to bypass the borderline security forces of Wazzu Arda. These were druids, warlocks, and beastmasters, with a single Knight with deep azure blue hair, wearing armor colored the darkest of navy. The Orcs stopped on the beach to look at the node. This was their enemy, an enemy to the environment, and an enemy to the region. This was a parasite, a virus. A barnacle growing on the hull of their vessel. It was to be removed. The two Water Warlocks, the two druids, and the two beastmasters stepped into the water to a level of near submergion. The other six warlocks of earth, fire, and air, began to inscribe Circles of Summoning within the sand, grabbing tools from their dorns'. The Orc from the Blue Hair Clan kneeled to sit down, observing the horizon for any human or elf threat that would have the gall to stop them.

OOC: Care to tell me how you slipped on some of the most inhabited parts of Wazzu's territory in Arda without passing it by me either OOCly or ICly first?

High in Earth orbit, several space warcraft break off their protected roles and speed towards Mars.

OOC: Care to tell me how you slipped on some of the most inhabited parts of Wazzu's territory in Arda without passing it by me either OOCly or ICly first?

OOC: If you'd like to confront them, you're welcome to do so, but they WILL assault that node eventually, whether you like it or not.

After a long moment of thought, with a heavy bag weighing down his hand, the Captain finally spoke up. "You do not understand, let me be plain.

"Wazzu is the last attacked Martian nation not wishing to destroy these lands." His hand went wide, indicating the barren landscape. Giant mechanical 'trolls' were constructing a building in one area, while hovercraft zoomed outwards from the small verti-port towards parts unknown. "But the lust for vengence is growing."

Capt. McIntire looked up into the orcs eyes, "You know that feeling, that urge. We will not stop our friends revenge on one who has killed us."

Riga grinned. His points had been made, and he could tell that the human agreed on a lot of things Riga had brought up, hence not acknowledging that he was right and going on with whatever he wanted to talk about. It was strategic, yes, but Riga could see through the facade. "I do not know of such a feeling. My experiences have only taught me the values of freedom from the bondages of slavery and how far the pride of one's people can bring it from extinction at the hands of Giants, as well as the Blessings of Lopnel to the ChumRas Orka. We never quabbled with revenge. It was much too petty. We also never held much alliances, as beings always had their own selfish means, unless the EnheilRas fealt that such a contract would give us a firm upper hand of the affairs. Do not mistake us for our lesser kind which follows us, for we are leaders of a potency unknown to history."


"We are interested only in wealth. Trade brings our Eden, not war. We don't care about racial mixing or purity, our shared goal drives us. And still, we are independent, free. In our culture, honor belongs to each person, not to their master.

"My honor is at risk. To keep it, I must give this back." The Captain handed back the bag of gold. "But to appologize for my insult, I offer my hospitality."

Riga caught the bag, but shrugged, and dropped it on the ground. It meant that little to him, and he hadn't planned on bringing it back. Etorek, behind him, didn't notice it falling and kicked it as he was walking, almost stumbling over it, and its contents spilled upon the ground, spreading the glittering gold and priceless dubloons. Etorek growled as his clumsiness afterward, but did nothing to clean the mess.

"You believe you'll get trade here human? Laughable," said Seviraloth out of turn, who was then shoved by Voerd.

"I disagree. Honor does not belong to each person, though a chance at achieving it does. Dishonor is still a course granted to those without courage and bravery to face their fate. There is to be no honor for those without the Might to seize it," Riga answered.

Etorek and Seviraloth tied the reigns of their dorns together so they wouldn't run from the humans as they followed Zaliseth and Voerd with Riga and Zigokor into the hangar. They spied over the minor banquet with a feeling of discontent and awkwardness.

Riga stared at McIntire, as if expecting some direction. He was somewhat suspicious.

OOC: Damn You Wazzu! Come back!

OOC: It's going to be a while - another 2 months maybe.

OOC: Keep alive bump - Haven't seen hide or hair of Wazzu yet.

IC:

Another addition to Wazzu Arda was in the works - grass. Workers fenced off a wide area close to the border and tilled the earth with a large industrial tiller that ground rock and gravel down to soil. Fertilizer was sprayed over the new soil and it was tilled again and another layer of fertilizer was laid down over the top. Finally seed was scattered and was left to take root.

Signs were posted on all of the posts: 'Warning: Modified Crop' and a hired hand patrolled the fenceline. A shed and gate was constructed at one end and sheep were turned lose inside. Imported from Mars they were used to hostile environments and were content with hay until the rapidly growing grass sprouted.