NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Kili’kuk is pronounced “KIL-EE-KOOK” but with less emphasis on the “OO” noise of “Kuk”, have it a short “OO” sound!

*The sprawl is Kriegos slang for the poorer sections of the cities.

Important Notes: If you are interested in this RP, IM (instant message) me or T/G (telegram) me before joining in, especially if you are intending to help the loyalists. Thank you and hope you all enjoy reading/RPing this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Rules:-

1.) Ask me the amount of military units you can bring via MSN-AIM or T/G.

2.) All posts must be at least two paragraphs long.

3.) Whenever you introduce yourself in a new area, try and include a time-and-place headline like I've done below, you do not nessecarily need to put the time.

4.) Please keep tags at a minimum and only tag when you've got something to say, maximum of one tag per player. I want to keep this uncluttered.

Map, courtesy of Intelligent Neighbours. (http://www.freewebs.com/kriegorgrad/mapofkriegorgrad.htm)


IC:


The Calm Before the Storm

Kriegorgrad, Kili’kuk, 1900 Hours

The early evening twilight played over the bustling city of Kili’kuk, the sun crept over the horizon to cast it’s reddish glow over the brown, mucky city, the old 1800’s architecture of Kriegorgrad was a sight to behold – in most cities that is, Kili’kuk was still suffering from the last Communist Revolt, chunks of stone were missing from all but the most important of buildings and no matter how hard the repair crews tried, they could never completely get rid of the red hue of blood from the last revolt, when one enters the dead zone between the sprawl* and the Noble Quarter, one could almost hear the screams and gunfire of the brutal fights for the barricades, when all had gone wrong, the communists charged the barricades, dying bravely while trained Kriegos soldiers ruthlessly gunned them down in droves, this wasn’t to say that the Kriegos soldiers were well off, the noble quarter was stained with their blood as well as that of the communists.

Silas Derwunhev sat like a pale ghost in the shadows, cradling his massive sledgehammer, while the rest of them listened to Comrade Nikolai preach the wonders of a nation free from the barbaric rule of Kriegor Zan Varr, Nikolai told the workers the possible fruits that they could reap should Kriegor Zan Varr be deposed of. Comrade Nikolai stood atop the podium in the large yet cramped room buried somewhere in one of the sprawl’s numerous factories.

“My comrades! Too long have we toiled under the cruel whips of the Zan Varr regime, Kriegor Zan Varr shall realise his folly when the time comes that the proleriat rise up and claim the rich lands of Kriegorgrad for our own and believe me comrades, that time is nigh!”

A series of cheers erupted from this statement, Silas cheered the loudest of cause, Silas was an albino, a ghost of an outcast shunned by the Zan Varr regime, most people – particularly those who swallowed the Kriegos propaganda – were afraid of Silas, orphaned at a young age, he was feared and hated by those he accounted, however, he once came upon a man, a man named Nikolai Fedorenkov, this one soul was the only one to show Silas any hospitality, Silas quickly began to worship the man and Nikolai began to teach Silas about the wonders of Communism, Silas swallowed every word of it with wide-eyed enthusiasm. Silas was enticed by the promise of equality, a nation free from prejudice where everyone treated Silas like Nikolai did.

”…And that comrades, is why we must REBEL! Overthrow the oppressors, cast off the weights tying down the balloon of Communism and let us travel to a perfect world!”

More cheers erupted and soon a chant broke out, “Down with Zan Varr!”, Silas was once more at the height of the chanting, roaring the chant like there was no tomorrow. Silas was a veteran of the last rebellion, as was Nikolai Fedorenkov, the man who had orchestrated it, the first rebellion had failed but then again, it was too small scale, this rebellion would usher Kriegorgrad into a new era of prosperity.

”Now comrades, go and sleep, forget now of the hungriness in your stomachs, forget now of the cold, forget now of your dirty clothes for tomorrow, we shall have full stomachs, warm homes and clean clothes! Now my brothers! Go and rest, for tomorrow, the world shall change in our favour!”

The crowd descended into a mad cheering and yelling but this time, Silas simply sat back with his arms folded and gave a wide grin, his master was a very charismatic one.

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

The Thunder Before the Lightning

Kriegorgrad, Kili’kuk, 1100 Hours


The following day all over Kili’kuk, incidents started happening, patrols went missing, vandalism was rampant in the Noble Quarter, overall, it wasn’t too great, just some minor violence, not a particularly uncommon thing in a city as disputed as Kili’kuk, however, things quickly began to escalate, violence soon became very public, patrols were attacked in the streets and things took a turn for the worse, the emergency weapons caches, that were to be used in case of extreme crisis, were broken into, soon, groups were roaming the streets with D055/12 Bolt Action Rifles (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=7730298&posted=1#post7730298) as well MGHD05550 Heavy Machine Guns, both weapons were of Hogsweatian manufacture yet despite their dubious quality, they performed admirably at ambushing unsuspecting patrols.

Kriegorgrad, Kili’kuk, 1730 Hours

By now, Kili’kuk was in flames, open riots had consumed half the city and riot squads were beaten back, screams and gunfire echoed through the archaic metropolis. The weapons that had originally been intended to be used in Kriegorgrad’s defence would actually be her downfall, the D055/12s had been used by all the rebels while the MGHD05550 was used to rip apart the riot shields, brutally massacring a riot squad.

Kriegorgrad, Kili’kuk, 1930 Hours

This debacle at Kili’kuk hadn’t escaped Kriegor Zan Varr’s notice, he sent orders to Grand General Corzare Zaphiir and ordered him to mobilise the nearest military units, the Grand General did so but, to Kriegor’s unpleasant surprise, two thirds of the nearby military units had refused to obey the Corzare’s orders, this left the remaining loyalists in a predicament, they could await reinforcements and take the city – after it had been fortified – with the reinforcements or they could move in as soon as possible with less numbers against badly prepared rebels.

Kriegorgrad, Kili’kuk, 2000 Hours

At 8 PM, Kriegos time, the 13th and 14th Kriegos Shock Trooper divisions charged into Kili’kul, on the outskirts, resistance was light and you could find many hopeful loyalists looking out windows, too afraid to shout praise but you could tell but the looks on their faces that they were pleased to see the military in force but as the KST divisions made their way in further, they were beginning to take casualties at an alarming rate, the warren of twisted streets made the guardian angels of the Kriegos battlenet, the surveillance satellites, rather inept at guarding their charges.

Kriegos Shock Troopers were drawn into bloody melees, the rebels made expert use of Hogsweatian heavy machine guns, putting in alleyways, the machine gunners would wait for the Kriegos soldiers to pass and then would let off round after round of 12.7mm ammo, the huge rounds puncturing the VEPR NGCS suits (http://s6.invisionfree.com/International_Mall/index.php?showtopic=1053&st=0) with ease, the crackle of radio links abruptly ending echoed throughout the streets.

After much bloody combat, the massive city of 29 million people was only dented by the Kriegos Shock Troopers attack, the Kriegos Shock Troopers were forced to retreat in the end, the original number of forty thousand soldiers was now only a mere three thousand.

Kriegorgrad, Krieg, 1000 Hours

The following day, an edition of “The Times” was already hot off the press in Kriegorgrad, every city knew of the incident and each was shocked to it’s very core.



The Times

Kili’kuk Taken by Communist Devils!

Yesterday, communist rebels seized power of Kili’kuk, our brave soldiers, the men and women of the 13th and 14th Kriegos Shock Trooper divisions gave their lives selflessly trying to keep the devils off our of beloved cities but it was too no avail, the 13th and 14th were forced to make a tactical retreat but losses were light, it was only thanks to excellent tactics that not one of our brave soldiers lies dead in that tainted city, however, before our brave men were done, they saw over half of the rebel insurgence destroyed!

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

Kriegorgrad, Kili’kuk, 1600 Hours

See comrades, look at this paper! Nikolai said, holding up an issue of the times, from where it was found, no one knew, Nikolai’s figure was potent image against the grey sky overlooking the grand square and the podium Nikolai was stood atop.

”See, they must LIE about us in this flimsy publication, they claim HALF of us are dead! Do you see mounds of dead rebels comrades? NO! You see piles of dead Kriegos Shock Troopers, thanks to OUR superior tactics! Long live the rebellion comrades!”


Cheers erupted all around the massive square as Nikolai stepped down from the podium, he quickly surrounded by an entourage wielding the bolt action rifles, Silas, apart from his sledgehammer, that was slung across his back, walked next to the wiry Nikolai, Silas kept an eye out, wielding the Hogsweatian machinegun with ease, his large muscles held the weapon without much exertion, Silas has ripped off the guard and wheels so he could use the machinegun more easily.

Nikolai and his party arrived at the town hall, Nikolai’s new headquarters and the group made themselves welcome, many men lay down weapons and flopped down on the leather sofas of the official building, who’s original tenants had long since vacated. Silas followed Nikolai into what was the mayor’s office prior to the rebellion. Nikolai made his way to the phone and picked up the receiver, he quickly dialled a number and said simply.

”It has begun comrade.”

Nikolai put the phone back on it’s receiver and turned to silas.

”What will happen now Nikolai?”

“Why Silas, my old friend, we will enter a new golden age, that is what will happen.”

”As you say Nikolai, I’ve know you thirteen years and you’ve never steered me wrong.”

”I try my best silas, I try my best.”

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

The Thunder Strikes and the Fires Start

All over Kriegorgrad, similar revolts started up, the cities became warzones, the Loyalists were based in Krieg, the capital while the communists were based in Kili’kuk, the hard won head quarters of the communists was a buzzing hive and would be an excellent place for any communistic nations to have as a base for military aid.

Kriegorgrad changing, an old age was era was dying but it’s death throes would ensure that the birth pains of the new age were long and arduous.

The Times

War looms!

All over Kriegorgrad, war looms, communists and loyalists declare their allegiances, whether it be to the glorious regime of Kriegor Zan Varr or the tyrannical communists. All of us at The Times hope you pledge allegiance to your caring master, Kriegor Zan Varr and we hope you pledge to Kriegor Zan Varr, not only because he is the right side but because we don’t want many of our readers to be chucked upon the pyre that traitors are burnt on after the rebellion fails.

Martial Law Declared

After much careful debate, Kriegor Zan Varr has declared the current situation dire enough to declare Martial Law. All loyalist citizens are to report to the newest loyalist military or judicial presence, if you cannot do this, stay with your homes and arm yourselves with whatever you can, with patience, this red plague shall subside.

Have faith! Kriegor Zan Varr will sort this out.

OOC: I'm confuzzled now... you gonna do two versions, or are you gonna close the... uh... closed one?

OOC: I'm confuzzled now... you gonna do two versions, or are you gonna close the... uh... closed one?


OOC: Yes, will do.

Zarbian Military Headquarters
Krieg, Kriegorgrad

In the beginning, Major General Anatoli Leonov had not been worried. Protests were commonplace in the poorer areas of any city in any country. A few patrols and weapons missing was nothing to frighten a person, but it was enough to keep an eye on.

In a matter of hours, all hell had broken loose. What had begun as a small protest had evolved into a full scale revolution. Leonov was definitely alarmed now, the city of Kili'kuk had been overrun by the red menace and two Shock Trooper divisions had been beaten back. The Major General knew his duty, he had to contact mainland Zarbia.

***

Zarbia City

Georgi Khruk was the supervising officer in the control tower tonight. The only thing keeping him awake was the cup of coffee on his desk. He had a long shift ahead of him, if only he knew exactly how long...

A young man, Doprev, suddenly called out to him. "Mr. Khruk, I'm getting a distress signal from...our military station in Krieg, Kriegorgrad."

"Yes?" questioned Khruk, frowning.

Doprev's eyes traveled across the screen quickly. "It's from Major General Leonov, apparently Kriegorgrad has some communist trouble."

Mr. Khruk downed the rest of the coffee and walked over to Doprev's computer. He took his glasses out of the front pocket of his shirt and put them on. After he finished reading the distress message he sighed.

"Goddamnit," he spat and rubbed his temples, "Alright, alright, um...you know what to do. Contact General Kuprin, forward him the message...this is big. Kuprin's not going to like this, those reds are going to have on hell of a fight in front of them."

Doprev nodded, "What should I tell them in Krieg?"

"Tell them to sit tight and wait. We'll have more information for them soon. Now get to work."

Kriegor Zan Varr was sprawled out over the dais, head slumped into his chest, a sign of deep thought for the Master of Kriegorgrad, Matthias was stood somewhere to his right, head bowed as he held his warhammer, shaft up with the flat plane of the hammer head resting on the dark marble floor, the frightened murmurs of the advisors from their little lair in the corner of the room wafted towards Kriegor.

Master Zan Varr turned to the Grand Inquisitorial Lord, Matthias.

"Matthias, my friend, has the time grown dark enough to openly seek out allies?"

Kriegor's long time friend gave a slow nod to confirm Zan Varr's suspicions.

"Well, Matthias, go seek out our friends before our situation grows too dire."

"Yes Master."

Matthias left the throne room and went about his duty.

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

To whomever it may concern, we in Kriegorgrad, the loyalists, are under threat by the red menace, communist rebels have seized power in Kili'kuk and major riots are appearing in all cities except Krieg itself, we don't know how long we can hold out...please send help!

Yours fearfully,

Grand Inquisitorial Lord Matthias, Keeper of the Seal, Guardian of the Tome

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

Meanwhile, elsewhere, quite a different message was being prepared.

Comrades of the world, the glorious revolution has finally come to Kriegorgrad, the cowardly loyalists will quake and tremble before the fluttering red banners of the rebellion.

Send aid comrades and helps us bring Kriegorgrad into a new era!

Long live the rebellion!

-Comrade Nikolai

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

Transmission to Zarbian Military Headquarters,
Krieg, Kreigorgrad
From General Kuprin

Attention Major General Leonov,
Expect reinforcements within the next twenty-four hours in the form of five divisions and supporting tank and artillery corps. The communist scum will not take the nation by surprise. As I understand they have not reached the capital yet, hold out until our boys come for you. Good luck.

General A. Kuprin.

End of transmission.

***

Zarbian Military Headquarters
Krieg, Kriegorgrad

Major General Leonov had received the message fifteen minutes ago. This revolution was dangerous business, it was fragile and it could turn into civil war at any time. Reinforcements would be arriving soon; Zarbia and Kriegorgrad were in the same region. The Major General had ten thousand men under his command, they could hold off any attacks for a while, but if the fighting became serious then reinforcements would be needed. Leonov left his office, going to the base control room to check on what was happening.

***

En route to Kriegorgrad

The C-130's were flying over the eastern province of Zall, making good time. They had not yet left Zarbia but they expected to reach their destination in a few hours time. Surrounded by several MMA-A2 Hawks, this small convoy was only one of many that would be heading to Kriegorgrad. An entire corps had been ordered to mobilize; the whole force could not be transported in one journey. In charge of this mission was Lt. General Valentin, a well-respected leader and good friend of General Kuprin himself. If anyone was able to do the job, it was Valentin.

Another trend started by me! Typing newspaper articles

Consider this a tag, looks like a good read.

Comrade Nikolai strode through bloodied streets of Kili'kuk, followed by his entourage - and Silas - with a red banner fluttering within them midst as cruel winds whipped through the streets, cheers followed the Comrade wherever he went, sometimes the rebels would even let a few shots off in his honour, things were going well, especially now that the rebels had begun to get organised, sacks of cement, which were ample in quantity inside the factories, made excellent makeshift sandbags, the Town Hall had been fortified, some of the windows were boarded up, allowing only thin shafts of pale light to enter the once luxurious building.

Nikolai finally reached his destination - an inconspicuous sewer grate, Silas squatted down, thick arms ripping the grate out of the ground, allowing grey light to pour into the dark labyrinth. The green, stagnant water made a heavy splash as Silas's heavy boots landed in it, followed by a smaller splash, that of Nikolai, after a minute of successive splashes, Nikolai and his bodyguards were in the dark, circular sewers that formed the secret roadways beneath the city.

"Flash lights on Comrades, wouldn't want to slip, would we?"

A quick chorus of replies came; all confirmed with the sharp click of flashlights, high watt bulbs suddenly kicked into life as the group went about searching for their prize.

They had split up into groups, after a few hours of indignant searching, knee deep in human effluence: they found it.

"Comrade Nikolai, I have found the cache, praise be to the Rosians and their caches, we are the intersection below Glory Boulevard."

"Confirmed comrade, we'll be there as soon as possible."

After a few minutes of splashing and running, the group had rendezvoused at the aforementioned intersection and Comrade Nikolai let out a roar of pleasure.

"This is GOOD comrade! Very good! You have done us a great service!"

The torchlights played across the long metal crates, each one stamped with the text in Stencil: RPG-7s - Rosian Manufacture. The group opened grates nearby and began passing the crates up to the waiting hands of their comrades.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
It appears that our call has not gone unheeded, words alone cannot describe the gratitude that we show for Yr Widdfan and Zarbian support, we are eternally grateful and when this civil war ends - with Kriegor Zan Varr as the victor - your help will not go unrewarded.

Yours gratuitously,

Grand Inquisitorial Lord Matthias, Keeper

Matthias turned away from the console and made his way back to the throne room, he arrived, bowed his head and said.

"It is sent Master."

"You have done well Matthias but...there is one more task I have for you..."

Polgra, capital of Azharadon

...................

Incoming transmission...
Please stand by...

....................

Communist rebellion impeding in Kriegorgrad.
Kriegor himself has requested worldwide help to help defeat the rebels.
Nicolai Federov, one of the leaders of the rebellion has asked for help to all communist nations on Earth.
Expected time of attack is in 16 hours.

.....................

Transmission out

.....................

"How far away is Kriegorgrad, Pyotr?" Thomas Guttnek, the 20-year old High Marshal of Azharadon asked his advisor. Tomasz was a well build, tall, darkblonde haired young man. His life was destroyed by the former rulers so he decided to do something about it. At the age of 17 he had gathered a rebel force numbering 5000 men. At the age of 18 he and best friend and trusted advisor Pyotr Lushkín took the - at that point called Crallistan - capital Polgra and renamed the country Azharadon after the Goddess that was reputed to have send him visions of the enemy positions. These visions offcourse were just a façade to get his people into a trustable and controlable religion and thus having less pressure on his shoulder for a religious rebelion. Azhara was in fact the name of his dead girlfriend, the reason that made him a rebel against that dictator for it were his orders to kill her father and whole his family.

"About 500km, Sir!" Pyotr answered. He was shorter than Tomasz but stronger. His short black hair was cropped back and his brown eyes revealed absolutely nothing. He was the only other person that knows Azharas secret.

"It must have been two years hasn't it? When the black flag of Azharas faithfull was placed on top op the cathedral...Well the country is too close and is I believe rated by the UN as one of the top oppressive and agressive countries. "

"Correct, Sir!"

"Send out some scouts and get me some more information on this Kriegor. All these years I've been looking inside my own borders, putting down fires. Maybe it's time to check nearby countries aswell."

"Shall I send out Dieter?" Dieter Waver. The best spy in Azharadon, he was the one that gave away all enemy positions and that made victory possible for the rebellion. Once the positions were revealed Tomasz easily crushed the Cralistani troops with minimum casualties.

"Yes, good idea. Oh and put the Apocalypse squad on stand-by. Just in case."

"Sergeant Plotnikov was walking through the halls of Kremlin in Pushka's capitol, Voronej. In his hands he carried a yellow folder. A yellow folder.....it is ridiculus how many times through human history small things like that have sealed the fates of millions, forcing a nation to go on a path of war.

Sergeant Plotnikov stopped at the end of the whole and slowly opened the dark wood door. He entered in a square room, in the center of it was a wooden table, the sign on it read:"President of Pushkan Federation, Ivan V. Mishin"

President was looking at latest economic growth statistics. He put the papers down and faced Plotnikov then the young Sergeant entered. Plotnikov came to halt 3 steps from President's desk according to the regulations"

President: At ease

"Plotnikov made three more steps to President's desk and lay the folder down on it. After he done that, he reported"

Plotnikov: I am sent by the minister of foreign affairs comrade Pavil Andruhov. I was told to report to you the matter of outmost importance, within the folder you will find a news article, it speaks of success of the communist rebels in a nation of Kriegorgrad.

"President looked over the article"

Plotnikov: We have collected a lot of information on the rebel leader, Nikolai Fedorenkov.

"President looked over the files, after he read through them he turned his head back to Plotnikov"

President: Go get General Penikov. Hurry.

"Plotnikov left the room. Twenty minutes later General Penikov arrived at President's office"

President: You hear about that Kriegorgrad incident.

Penikov: Yes, i have, seems promising.

President: I have just ordered the pull out of our forces from Tsarskoye-Selo, those bastards don't deserve to be helped. This ones might be worthy.

Penikov: Whats the plan?

President: I want to keep this secret, no nation should know that we are involved. Send in the Red Devils.

"Penikov bowed with his head"

Penikov: Finally a good job for them. How many should i send?

President: All 50000 of them, no tanks or any other equipment needed, this will be a covert operation. They go in, they do their job, no body but few selected people know. I am sending a telegram to the rebel leader. You may go, ready your troops.

"General disappeared into the doorway. President began writing the telegram"

From: President Ivan V. Mishin, of Pushkan Federation
To: Nikolai Fedorenkov

I greet you comrade and wish you best luck in defeating the monarch scum. I am willing to aid you, but under few conditions. You do not ask questions, and you do not announce or tell anyone, or in anyway make it official that Pushka is helping you. Don't even tell the closest of your comrades, those are our conditions. We will send 300000 AK-74s for your troops, 12000 AT-16 anti-tank weapons, and a number of men which i am not going to talk about in here. Do not ask questions about our men, only contact us if you are sure that you can do so safely. Good luck. For communism!

-signed President Ivan V. Mishin of Pushkan Federation.

OOC: I'm skipping time a bit to quicken the RP.

Zarbian Military Headquarters,
Krieg, Kriegorgrad

Lt. General Valentin sat in the chair opposite from Leonov. Four hours had passed since the senior officer had arrived; the last transport convoys were arriving soon. There had been trouble with communist controlled SAM sites, but they had been taken out with some well placed cruise missiles.

The two officers were discussing the situation at hand, this would not be an easy war to win, that was certain.

"Sir, this is a delicate situation. It could escalate into something even bigger," said Leonov.

"I'm aware of this, but what I don't know is why the hell the local army can't take care of this?"

"A large portion of the armed forces had chosen to side with the reds, sir," replied Leonov.

"Do we know anything about their next target?" asked Valentin.

Leonov shook his head. "No, though many are saying Krieg is next. We cannot be completely certain, we should stay on the alert just the same."

Valentin nodded and stood up. "The final reinforcements should be arriving soon. Let's be there to greet them."

OOC: "kuk" in swedish is the same as p*nis and d*ck...... :p

Kriegorgrad, 3 Miles out from Krieg

Arbiter Zerkiel leant on the rim of the hatch way atop the SIV-25 IFV, he heard yelling from below and smacked the hull to keep them quiet.

"Silence, you sound like a bunch of neophytes!"

A series of cheerful insults wafted back up at the Arbiter from the merry infantry, Zerkiel only muttered something about the lack of discipline among his KMI (Kriegos mechanised Infantry). Zerkiel would've held a hand up to shield his eyes from the dim sun but his VEPR NGCS did that for him, the light was dampened by the inbuilt compensators, slowly but surely the Zarbian military base came into view, a few miles out of Krieg, he picked up the hand radio that was resting on the hatch rim, he raised the radio to his mouse and clicked it on, his entered the receiver, exiting at the Zarbian military base.

"This is the Kriegos Mechanised Infantry of the 49th and the 50th divisions, we are en-route to your base. Do NOT open fire, we are loyalists."

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

OOC Interval: Okay Zarbia, assume that the KMI are following you, post about them when you feel fit and feel free to overall control them for a while, they don't have to follow you if you don't want them too.

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

Kriegorgrad, Kili'kuk

Nikolai reclined over the large leather chair, what was once the mayor's chair was now the Comrade's chair, Silas was stood nearby, seemingly relaxed on a leather sofa but something in his eyes said that he was alert, the sparkling intelligence that told of someone who had endured things that should never need to be endured.

Nikolai began to drift into a light slumber, he then slipped into a pleasant dream in which he stormed into the palace that of Krieg, slaughtering the guards, striding into Kriegor Zan Varr's throne room, pulling out a pistol and unloading it into the oppressor's skull...

"...Nikolai! Comrade Nikolai!"

Nikolai awoke, rubbing his bleary eyes and pondering what it was Silas wanted, then he heard the loud bleep.

"Sorry comrade, I must have dozed off there, anyway, what is that beeping?"

"It's the machine, Comrade!"

"Indeed, so it is Silas, I apologise, I must be lethargic."

Nikolai hauled himself up out of the chair and made his way to the telegram machine that was situated on the other side of the room. Nikolai scanned the message and then quickly set about composing a reply.

From: Comrade Nikolai Fredorenkov
To: President Ivan V. Mishin, of Pushkan Federation

I thank you comrade for your kind donations towards the glorious rebellion, and
should secrecy be required regarding your men, then so be it, I shall speak of it to no one.

The weapons are greatly appreciated but we are doubtful as to the effectiveness of the AK47's due to ammunition, if were able send more in the way of sniper rifles and such*.

Anyway, thank you for your time.

Comrade Nikolai Fredorenkov

OOC: Those are AK-74s

"President received a telegram and mumbeled to himself"

President: Hmm, so they need sniped rifles.

"Then he yelled"

SASHA, FUCK YOUR MOTHER! WHERE ARE YOU?

"A bodyguard came into the room. President wrote something on a piece of paper and extended his hand to give it to the bodyguard"

President: Go give it to General Penikov, say its important

"Bodyguard took the paper, folded it and left the room"

----Few days later under the cover of the darkness 80 IL-76 transport planes landed near Kili'kuk, they unloaded soldiers and supplies and quickly took off. Leaving no trace.----------

"Newly appointed commander Kiril Bagrov was in chrage of the Red Devils and the whole operation. While his men were hiding the supplies and establishing a camp in a nearby forest he and 15 of his most trusted men went to meet the leader of the rebels himself. Making sure that no one else could spot them.

Then they aproached the city, they quickly passed through the defenses by simply avoiding the guards. Then they made their way through the city and to the building their rebel leader was located. The security was tight, they had to climb the wall of a nearby house and jump into the window of Nikolai's house.

Inside the room they saw Nikolai himself. All of Red Devils were wearing dark, long coats, their hands were hidden in those coats and no weapon could be seen. Nikolai did not look surprised, Kiril spoke"

Kiril: We delivered a total off 300000 AK-74 asault rifles, with 300000000 rounds of ammo, 12000 AT-16 ATGM weapons, with 700000 Ataka-V VIKhR 9M120 missiles, also on your request we brought 70000 Dragunov SVD sniper rifles, with 60000000 rounds. You will find all the supplies near the forest, close to the city. My men are guarding them right now.

I request any information you have concerning current enemy positions. Our spy satelite has not yet come into position to take pictures of this area.

There was an army of strong brazen steel,
Forged in fire and the hatred of war.
Death did fall, both on ally and foe,
And like Tamburlaine of old they toiled
Fourght thrice oft the worlds game.
And to the beat of the drums of war,
They fell upon the blooded fields of battle.
And when the flesh had rotted from soul,
The ravens had picked clean the bones.
Above the soul, and the human pain of war,
The great drums of battle kept their watch,
Oft the drum was the battle for the world done,
And into the hellfire of damnation we blindly run.

Meridrin, Warlord of Aragon - Christopher Henslowe, Momanguise playmaker

Those lines came to the old captains mind as the lulling sea pushed gently against the landing craft. He grasped he sturdy rifle against his chest, soothing his nerves with a swing of cold water. Not really a substitute for a fine ale of strong breed, but enough to steady a mans resolve. Flanked on all sides by the towering ships of the navy, the blaring blast of the horns, signalling the arrival of socialist aid. He lit his pipe, the herbal smoke wafting in front of his eyes, and obscuring his vision like a heavy fog. As the craft came closer and closer to landing, he scanned the horizen for any side of aid, or resistance, or both. "We come to liberate not conquer, nor for any reason of cold state" muttered his younger comrade, the captain nodding slowly. "Aye, not the cold affairs of state for blood is hot enough for the thaw of immortality", leaving his confederate to decode his encryptic reply as the port of Koo'le'ahn came into view. Somewhere, inside his head and within the spirit of the thirty thousand men, the drums of war were beating.

OOC: Everyone delete the OOC crap, we need an OOC thread for this...OOC THREAD! (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=7853564#post7853564)

IC:

Kriegorgrad, Kili'kuk

Nikolai felt his heart hammer in his chest, for a moment, he thought that they were a Kriegos Death Korp Kill Team for a second there but his heart slowly began to stop pounding when they announced themselves as the Red Devils, the fighting men of Pushka.

"Excellent comrades, I am deeply gladdened that you were able to come, I shall send men immediately to fetch the weapons."

Nikolai nodded towards Silas, who was watching the conversation with wide eyed curiosity but, as much as the talk intrigued him, Silas wasn't going to disobey his master, Silas turned and left, he quickly adressed half the men in the corridor to get some people together to fetch weapons from the nearby forest, the men promptly shot up and ran to their posts, merely thirty seconds had gone by since Silas had left the room but when Silas re-entered to join his master, the foreign special forces were gone.

"Who were they Comrade Nikolai?"

"Powerful friends comrade, powerful friends..."

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

Kriegorgrad, Koo'le'ahn Docks

"Papa! Look! Loyalist devils!" Said the small boy, tugging at his fathers coat.

"Yes Pipi, I see them!" replied Korgi, a middle aged man with stubble and a deep voice. He raised his Hogsweatian rifle and snapped a shot off at the boarding craft, one among many in the large fleet converging on Koo'le'ahn, he then yelled out.

"Take that you loyalist devils! You cannot defeat the Proleriat!"

"Oh papa...I didn't notice before but they are flying the flags of Momanguise!"

"Oh dear Pipi...Sorry out there!...come Pipi, we must greet our saviours and we must apologise in person!"

"I'm scared Papa!"

"Don't be, these men are our saviours! Welcome them like you'd welcome papa!"

"If you say so papa..." Said the boy, sounding doubtful.

They heard the soft thud of a single bullet against steel as the rifle round hit the side of the craft and there was an immediate scramble to hit the deck, save for the captain as he laughed heartedly, "Tush" he cried "Miserable men, who fear hobgoblins and bugs! What, brave soldiers of Momanguise? Zouns you fools, for the people of the people stand to greet us!" He laughed even more at the cowardice of the finest men that Momanguise could muster, as he stepped from the craft unto the decking of the pier, a song in his heart. As his comrades picked themselves muttering from the floor of the vessel, plush with mutral regret and embarresment. He extended a hand to the man and ran his fingers through the hair of his son, "Greetings friends, we come with love in our hearts for the people of Kriegorgrad, and the best intentions that our show of arms may permit."

Behind him spilled onto the cold, steady earth a stream of young men and women. They noted the Hogsweatian make of arms with a grudging respect to a known ally, and tanks of steel, heavy machines of lumbering death waited in hold. Though the security of the city, this vital foothold was of paramount importance, the support of the people was a greater cause. Food, good food of fine grain and the other vitals of the farms that yearly stuffs old Momanguise's treasury was handed out and the Momanguise flag was raised alongside that of the people. The marching soldliers sang jovially, waving to children, the Momanguise national anthem. As the song ended, the final refrain hung in the air like a friendly promise.

Not for the coins of the wanton world,
Nor the fire, that the furies hurled!
Not for the country we leave behind,
Or the glory of old times,
Not for the fight,
Or the almighty right,
Nor the streets, paved in gold,
But for the people I will fight,
And I will die absolved.

"Kiril and all the batalion commanders of Red Devil army met in a command tent, deep within the forest. On the table around which all 51 men were standing was a map of Kriegorgrad"

Kiril: He told me the location of our enemy. They are concentrated here and here.

"He pointed his finger at few spots on the map"

Kiril: Once our enemies attack the rebels or rebels attack our enemies we will move and attempt to take the capitol. We need to attract enemy forces on the rebels so we can do a clean job of killing the monarch without revealing our true identity which would happen if we engage with monarch's and his allie's armies head to head. For now lets dig in and wait. End of meeting.

"Everybody left the tent"

Zarbian Military Headquarters,
Krieg, Kriegorgrad

"Why do they have to come here?" asked Valentin angrily. "Isn't it enough that we're here helping them? Now we have to turn this base into a goddamn shelter."

This is what Leonov didn't like about Valentin; his racist views towards everyone who wasn't Zarbian. Although he had grown up in a fascist nation and had been force fed racist propaganda from a young age, Leonov was indifferent towards people of other nationalities. As long as they did not bother him, he would not bother them.

"Sir, it wouldn't hurt for us to have some extra men and tanks in here."

Lt. General Valentin closed his eyes briefly. "Fine. Let them in then."

Leonov nodded. It was a good thing to have allies, reinforcements were rarely a bad thing.

The Soviet Bloc Premier, after reading the report on the situation in Kriegorgrad, solemnly rested his head in his hands... "Why the hell does this have to happen now? I mean, shit, Kazakhstan is going crazy in rebellion, we're about to go to war with Acre Union, and now Kriegorgrad has to collapse into a Communist revolution?!" He shook his head in disgust. Viktor Dokhturov wondered how Chlevenkov had put up with all of this. Hell, he wasn't even settled into the Premier residence and already his world was crumbling. Just a test of leadership he thought, subduing his raging mind.

The aide, a foreign affairs advisor, shrugged ever so lightly, "Yes... They're asking for assistance. And so are the rebels." The advisor glanced at the premier, handing him a transcript from the Kriegos transmission.

Viktor lightly read through it and let it flutter to his desk, "Well, aid the government... I want to smash those filthy vermin. Chlevenkov may have held a soft spot for those tail-less bastards but I don't. They're all worthless scum." He shook in rage, for his entire family had been wiped out in the Communist revolution, all brutally executed in the streets before his own 17 year old eyes. Now he was a man of forty-odd some years but that memory played vividly across his mind each time he heard the word communist.

The advisor sighed, "But sir, we have to look at the possibilities. Our force commitments are too much, we're spread too thin right now aside from home defense forces. We can spare air forces and special forces but that's about it. Frankly, with the intelligence reports we're getting I don't think Kriegorgrad's government will last much longer, the Communists will likely seize power. And what are you going to do? Push away from one of our finest allies... Not to mention one of our economy's greatest supporters? Hmm? If we do we lose an ally and we lose alot of money, besides, they're filled with our technology, no sense in making an enemy that has technology of an equal playing field with our's. Besides, we do have other communist/socialist allies/friends."

The Premier grimaced at the word, "Dammit, that's only a possibility right, its not guaranteed that they'll be communist?" The advisor nodded, glancing at his watch. "Well, then, I suppose we'll try our damnedest to keep that from happening. Our MVD and OMON Intelligence Agency forces could deploy, no?"

The advisor nodded, "Aye, we can deploy as many as 1300 special forces with as many as 400 OMONIA Black Berets. We could scrounge up an airborne mechanized infantry regiment to assist operations by providing artillery, air defense, and anti-tank support." He glanced down at a folder he carried, letting it open, he scanned a document citing potential assets to be called up.

Dokhturov glanced at the pristine 'National Blue' of the flag that was draped across the room, his eyes moved to the fearsome eagle grasping arrows and a lightning bolt, with a shield across its breast and stars above its head. His eyes narrowed as he spoke, "Do it. This is a new era in Soviet Bloc diplomacy. Pro-active. Kick their asses and let them know it, I want you to give their collective ass back in a little package labeled "Processed and Spat Out by the Armed Republic of Soviet Bloc". And do it with no compassion, show those asses why we're fighting them off, let them know we don't intend to let them gain power."

The advisor grinned, this was the man he knew, "Will do sir..."

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

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

Within two hours, six hundred OMONIA Black Beret special forces operatives (only about 50 on the aircraft) and Airborne Infantry were aboard a dozen MC-214D Special Forces transport aircraft. Each was wearing their midnight-black VEPR NGCS combat systems with their newly produced RSR-56A Special Forces Assault Weapon (SFAW; 7.62x51mm and 5.56x45mm). Along with them the operatives carried tactical assault shields which hung on their back, and their 8 inch assault knifes which doubled as brass knuckles (hand-guard), blunt force trauma weapon (blunt end), and melee weapon (double-sided blade with gut hook).

Their faces were emotionless, hidden by layers of NBC protection, some armor, and a visor system. Each one had thoughts in his mind, thoughts of ripping apart his enemy... By hand, with his own two hands and with assistance from the Physical Attribute Acceleration System. In fact, the Black Berets had set up a local area network between themselves, excluding the airborne infantry, and bet on who would kill the most. Each one networked their combat cameras to the LAN so that the stored video and images could be viewed by all through the DNI. The Black Beret commanding officer agreed to be the judge and determine who, in fact, had killed the most. Special bonuses would be granted to those who killed with their own hands or with the knives. The Black Berets were a bunch of crazy sons of bitches, and were willing to prove it.

The aircraft had already taken off, with fighter escort and with numerous C-380 transports behind (carrying the airborne mechanized regiment's other soldiers and their vehicles/equipment), for they knew the Kriegorgrad government would let them in. The airborne infantry were apprehensious, rarely had they been sent to combat with special forces, something was amiss to many.

Their plans were simple, to land wherever Kriegorgrad told them to, then wreak complete and utter havoc on an enemy that had little more than bolt action rifles and the occasional rocket propelled grenade. The battle would be like putting a blind rodent into a pit of flames, there was no way the Communists would survive without at least getting a severe burn as they scurry amid the licking flames, most likely being incinerated by the awesome and relentless heat of the Soviet Bloc war machine. These men were ready to take the weighty boot of their superior strength and smash the communists into the dirt, where they belong, and grind their sorry asses into oblivion, mixing them with their brethren, dirt. Although alot of the people, including a large portion of the government, were sympathetic to communism, the special forces were not, most had seen the carnage wreaked by them in their last revolution attempt and they knew the earth was better off without them, and each one would do whatever they could in their power to do so. The communist rebels in Kriegorgrad would pay a heavy price for disturbing the ARSB and her ally.

Polgra, capital of Azharadon

"Sir, Dieter has landed safely in Kriegorgrad." Pyotr advised his Marshal.

"Excellent and the Apocalypse squad??"

"Ready for inspection, Sir"

"Excellent, keep me informed of Dieters movements. Should everything on Kriegorgrad escalate while I'm away, you know what to do."

"Yes, prepare a decent attacksquadron, send a helicopter to the Apocalypse squad and order Dieter to get out of there. Should I let them know you're coming?

"Yes and prepare a helicopter, they're leaving immediatly." Were his words before he walked towards the jeep that would bring him towards the military base just outside town.

The Apocalypse squad were Tomasz' four horsemen of the Apocalypse. They were trained and experienced during the rebellion. All four of them were givin high recommendations by their previous commanders and were all given the Flaming Angel medal, the highest medal a soldier can earn. Now Tomasz had taken command of them personaly and would send them into small missions like theft, assasination, ... Often he'd even come with them when a mission was easy. Now the mission wasn't easy or safe, it would be bloodserious. The conflict was slowly but steadily beginning to escalate and was dragging all countries nearby into war so didn't wish to get killed that easily and would just go with them in the helicopter.

Polgra military base, 5km outside Polgra

The squad was already lined up and ready to go. All four of them armed with an F-2000 assault rifle, a USP45 sidearm, 2 grenades and some C4. Tomasz decided to send these guys out rather than a full-scale military assaut for 2 reasons. One it's a whole lot cheaper and Azhara knows he's country aint that rich and because he wouldn't be suspected should they get caught. They wore no name tags and he would deny the existance of such a group. Should they get captured they were on their own and were expected to kill themselves.

"Heya, Sir!" Commander Franky Parati greeted him. He was tall, extremely muscular and he was wrapped in tight black clothes. His brown hair was long and put in a ponytale. Tomasz hated those clothes butt Franky was the boss of the squad and probably would do the right thing. The other members were Bob Thompson, Grigor Vasilov and Sergei Calincov. Bob had the same hair as Franky but it was a lot shorter, Grigor had black hair, a flat nose and a short - near bald - black hair. Sergei had short strawberry blond hair that was cropped back until only a few bangs were still on his forehead. All of them wore the same tight black suit.

"I see the helicopter already ready. I will brief you in on the chopper. Move Out!."

They walked towards the small chopper which had just enough space for all of them. It was build to remain as undetected as possible while as fast as possible. It was an older model but it was cheap and didn't use as much feul as most other choppers of that size and speed.

OOC: Yr Widdfa, if you don't start having AT LEAST two decent paragraphs, I'll have to eject you from the RP, there are other people who will put more effort in to to be a part of this RP.

IC:

Kriegorgrad, Krieg

Arbiter Zerkiel heard a crackle of confirmation through the radio and banged on the hull of the SIV-25 twice.

"Get moving ye lazy bastard"

More curses came up and assaulted the Arbiter but Zerkiel was used to it by now, it had descended into a playful game for both parties, the engine, previously content with a low humming, had now revved up to a mighty roar as the vehicle kicked into lifesuddenly, the Infantry Fighting Vehicle lurched forward, towards the Zarbian military base.

After some more insults and curses, the SIV-25s rumbled into the Zarbian base single column, a huge amount of vehicles holding an even greater number of men was now safely within the caring confines of the Zarbian military base, some of Kriegos soldiers were allowed to go and talk to off duty Zarbian soldiers, as well as make themselves useful in general while Arbiter Zerkiel, in full VEPR battle dress made his way to find the Zarbian leader, Valentin.

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

Kriegorgrad, Kili'kuk, 1000 Hours

The following day, Nikolai had just awoken, it was mid-morning, pale light poured in through the windows and the city lurched into life, noise began to fill the streets but despite this, the drone of planes could be heard, for a moment, Nikolai thought they were sending in the Kriegos Airborne Infantry but his suspicions were waved aside as soon as he saw the mass drop of communistic soldiers, he could not help but chuckle, his sadistic sense of humour kicked in.

What fools would try dropping on Kili'kuk! All the jagged points and spikes in the architecture would kill them!

Nikolai's thoughts were right, most of the streets were too narrow to safely, the roof tiles were more than dubious and it was quite likely the poor soldiers dropping overhead would be corpses to be looted within the hour...

'At twelve AM today, hundreds of thousands of Radlettarian millitia men stormed the docks unnoposed and made for the troubled state of Kalingrad...'
'Shut the woman up,' growled Harry Smith. Little Michael next to him obliged quickly and turned the radio off. He and thousands of other men were cramped into dated Higgins-Boats, all sailing towards Kriegorgrad in the turbulent seas surrounding the country.
'God in heaven,' moaned a man next to him, seconds before the poor soul threw up over the side of the vessel. Harry looked back at Michael.
'Think we'll get some weapons at shore?' He asked the nervous youngster. The only reply was his teeth chattering in the cold, their cheap furs barely adequate to keep them from pneumonia.
'Twenty seconds.' Shouted the pilot behind them. The 'soldiers' suddenly stopped talking and wretching. All eyes were on the gangplank. Harry lowered his head and prayed to the Executive that the loyalists were waiting for them on the other side.
'Releasing doors.'
The plank fell down onto the hard ground, followed by hundreds of others surrounding them. The men cheered and poured out of the confined space. Ahead of them was a hill of dead grass. As Harry followed it up, his eyes met the sihoulette of more men on the crown of the tall mound.
A men next to his left gurgled and fell over. Harry crouched down to inspect him. It was probably just the cold. Suddenly, the same noise occured again. Then, the sound of heavy-machine gun fire opened up. Men shouted and began to run around the place.
'Get down,' screamed Harry fruitlessly. Raising his head from the dirt, he could see armed soldiers advancing slowly towards them.
'God,' he moaned to himself. 'Why did I come here?'

Helicopter, 10 minutes from Kriegorgrad

"...Right and that is the current situation in Kreigorgrad." The High Marshal of Azharadon breifed his squad. "Your mission is to assist the rebel forces invisibily. Snipe and ambush loyalist patrols whenever possible. Make explosive traps but save some C4 for this: The breaching of the imperial vault. When the army storms the palace, join them but head to the vault rather than the leaders head." This plan could become Azharadons first international success and might even be very profitable. "Don't take any unneeded risks and dont take more than 5 bars of gold each to restrict the weight. You will be dropped 10 miles out of the town near the border and don't forget you stay hidden, you had nothing to do with Azharadon if you get caught. Destroy the transmitters when your in real deep shit so they can't detect us on frequency."

"Understood sir" The Apocalypse squad said in unison.

"5 Minutes to drop off point, Sir" The pilote informed them.

"Well good luck, have fun and for Azharas sake don't die. Contact Waver for a safehouse. Contact Polgra for a pickup right here should things go awry. Now GOGOGO!!!" The High Marshal called to his men to get them moving and they were off.

______________________________________________________________________________

Polgra, capitol of Azharadon

"General Salvator, the drop off of the Apocalypse Squad was a success." A soldier reported to Azharadons commander of the armors chambers,"The High Marshal is on his way back."

"Excellent, contact Krieg about this. Give him the safehouse position on the condition he won't declare war on Azharadon. This is to dangerous, I'll try and convince Tomasz to stay away of this war. I'm not betraying this country, I fully believe in Tomasz capabilities to rule this land but this is just to fast for us."

"I understand Sir, I will report to him at once."

Zarbian Military Headquarters
Krieg, Kriegorgrad

The Kriegos soldiers had entered the base safely, they had immediately begun speaking to the Zarbian soldiers that would communicate with them.

Lt. General Valentin had reluctantly shook hands and greeted the Kriegos leader. He wanted to know as much as he could, how bad this communist threat really was and what kind of fight he was going into.

"Come, we need to discuss the situation." he paused. "Leonov, you come too."

Leonov nodded and led the two men to his office. He walked around his desk and sat down in the leather chair. Motioning for the others to take their seats, he retrieved a bottle of whiskey from a desk drawer and poured three glasses.

Valentin began the discussion, addressing Zerkiel, "So, do we know anything about these communists? Who they are? What their definite goals are? What their next target is?"

It was very possible that Kriegos intelligence was keeping information from the Zarbians, and that was exactly what Valentin did not want to happen. If he was to assist the loyalists, he wanted to know everything.

All around Michael frantic men twisted and fell as they were hit. Their attackers still shrouded by darkness, but for the sporatic flashes of bullets being fired by the machine-guns. Corpses lay in the dirt with him, staring into space dreamily.
Suddenly, the roar of planes could be heard. Looking up, hundreds of spheres could be soon swaying down towards the battle. Paratroopers. Michael smiled and ducked down again. Soon, the men landed and began to set up defensive positions at the foot of the hill. On their arms they bore the crossed swords, the symbol of Radlett. The main bursts of fire were now coming from their allies. The comunists were in disaray, those that didn't flee quickly were killed. Michael hastily stood up and ran over to a wall of sandbags the soldiers had set up.
'Who the hell are you?' He asked a small man crouching behind the defences.
'Captain Major Jones. Elite forces squad. You bloody traitors are getting it once we clear out the enemy.

Watching the process from his flying fortress high above the battle, Field Marshal Pertesvurg signaled to General Jenkins.
'Get those commies out. I want the millitia armed and ready to assult the revolutionaries tomorrow.

----In Kremlin, Voronej general Penikov and few other generals were standing near President's desk as he was drinking his tea------

"President put his cup on the table and leaned towards the generals"

President: I hear that the situation is getting more extreme. More and more major players are kicking in. Since we have just developed our BME-01 satelite weapon and are growing a nuclear arsennal, i think we can move in and fully commit to this war. We make an official announcement and start supplying the rebels with more serious weapons. Red Devils will still work undercover, we will not send in our regular armies, at least not for now.

"President put his hands to his head and thought for a minute"

President: Osmanov what can we offer our freinds in terms of air force?

General Osmanov (commander of Pushkan airforce): We have a whole bunch of SU-47s and Mig-35s left over from our military build up after war with Crimsdale. They were never used but were maintained, we can give those to the rebels.

President: Good, good, we do that. Dubov, what about tanks and artillery?

Dubov (commander of 9th Pushkan mechanized army): Well we are using all we got but we can send some of our stuff and just make more for ourselves.

President: We shall do that. Yuo can go.

"Generals left"

To: Rebel leader, Nikolai
From: Pushkan President, Ivan V. Mishin

We will make it official, we still want you to hold your promise and not reveal the Red Devils to anyone. We will send many more supplies to you. They will be where to help you soon. For the revolution!

OOC: OOC THREAD HERE FFS! (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=386586)

IC: Nikolai took a deep drag of the recently procured cigar, he found a whole stash of them in the Mayor's desk, the smoke wafted around the room and Silas had a disapproving hand pinching his nose, Silas had always thought that smoking - smoking cigars anyway - was a product of the rich capitalists and never meant for the communists heroes.

Silas fell into a slumber, dreaming of the golden age that would follow the victorious rebellion and of all the happy, accepting faces greeting Silas, assistant to the grand Nikolai, on his contribution to the victory, the loyal man was awoken by a deep rumble, Nikolai leapt up from his new found spot on the chair and raced to the window, his face lit up with joy while the unusually warm sunlight gave his face a holy glow.

Nikolai stood there beaming, taking one more drag of his cigar before discarding it and roaring out the door, calling for Silas to follow who jumped up to follow his master, feet tapping on the stone slabs of the entrance hall, warm sunlight beaming through the windows mounted on the double doors, Silas's feet slow consumed the distance between the door and himself and finally Silas's hand felt for the gold door knob, he gave it a turn and the lock inside clicked, the door swung open and Silas made his way into the grand square as yells and cheers swallowed him...

Nikolai stood, beaming as the sunlight hit him in rays, atop the T-95 battle tank, the sound of cheering lent Nikolai an aura of confidence, his ego bolstered by the people - in the windows, the streets, the doorways, everywhere - cheering for "Comrade Leader Nikolai", after three hours of speeches and jubilation, the crowd finally died down and went for home for tomorrow would begin the great journey, the beginning of the end and the end of the beginning, for Kriegorgrad, a new era shall shattere the foundations that it was built on.

----in the forest nearby Kul'kuk------

"Kiril and his men were once again in a camuflaged tent deep within the forest, the same map of Kriegograd was lying on the desk in the center of the tent, and the same men with stone faces and camuflage uniform were leaning over and looking at the map."

Captain Oleg Borzoi: We can't wait here, we need to move, my soldiers are itching for combat. Kiril, we need to be doing something, or else this is just a dislocation of valuable military resources.

Kiril: I know Oleg, but we can't move, until the rebels move, we still can't reveal our existance, it is official that Pushka supports the rebels but our existance is still covered up. I need to meet with Nikolai, we need to discuss our moves. You me and Ohmarov will go to contact Nikolai, the rest just do what you are already doing. Don't show yourself, alright now, Oleg, Ohmarov, let go.

"Three of them, each armed with a different assualt rifles, Kiril carried his trusty OC-14 Groza, Ohmarov carried his AS Val and Oleg carried his all time favorite A-91 assault rifle, they went through the wood, going in the direction of Kul'kuk."

OOC: Alright people...last chance before the climax begins.

IC:

Kriegorgrad, Kili'kuk, 0800 Hours

Nikolai awoke, sprawled over the large leather sofa, covered by some salvaged blankets and some rather expensive pillows, Silas was sat nearby on a leather chair, his chin tucked into his chest, snoring lightly. Nikolai grinned as realisation swept over his face.

Today is the final day of the old days and the dawn of a new era.

By now, Silas had awoken, silently like always and his eyes scanned the room before following Nikolai as his leader paced about the room, smiling and occasionally muttering to himself while cheers filled the streets, Nikolai was content and so was Silas until the creak of doors opening alerted them both.

All the guards were out celebrating or making ready for the final blow against the loyalists who were fortified at Krieg and noone was there to guard the complacent Nikolai - apart from Silas. Silas leaped into action, instantly he had his sledgehammer limbered on his back and the 12.7mm Hogsweatian machine gun held in both hands, aimed at the only door into the mayor's office that Nikolai and Silas now occupied, oddly, what came next were two knocks on the door.

Silas lowered his weapon, an assassin wouldn't knock and sure enough, three soldiers came in, weapons lowered and the leader beckoned for Nikolai to talk.

"We have soldiers camped out in the forests near Kili'kuk."

"Very good, have them come into the city and link up with the rest of the revolutionary army."

"Very well, I must take my leave of you."

"Good luck comrade!"

And the conversation ended quickly, the footsteps in the corridor slowly began to fade away until they were consumed by the cheering of the crowds.

"Sir, who were they." Silas inquired.

"They were friends, comrade Silas, that is all we need to know."

The "Revolutionary Army", as it was dubbed, was preparing for war, tanks were being loaded up, final checks were made and at long last, the Revolutionary Army was ready and the people of Kili'kuk were ready for war...

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

Kriegorgrad, Krieg, 1000 Hours

Kriegor Zan Varr sat upon his dais, panic creeping in on the edges of his mind but he had kept them from touching his thought, if that happened, all would be lost, Kriegor tried to think but Matthias's entry interrupted the attempted brain storm.

"Master Zan Varr...we lost Koo'le'ahn." Matthias reported grimly.

Roars of rage could be heard throughout the palace.

"Kiril and the others exited the building, they talked in Pushkan so noone else would be able to understand them"

Ohmarov: So what now? We gonna bring our men into the city?

Kiril: Yes, we need to speed things up, men are a bit tired of SRNPs for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Wouldn't you agree?

Oleg: I can't take another bite of that self-growing fungus, thoughts of it sicken me.

Kiril: Don't worry soon it will be over.

"Once they reached the encampment, Krili gave an order for everyone to pick up their stuff and move into the city. He also gave an order for everyone to put their masks on, and put away any identification marks on their uniform. That way he hoped nobody would link them to PUshka, if Nikolai kept his mouth shut, and he'd better. A seemingly endless stream of soldiers moved into the city by foot, separating themselves from everybody else, setting up a camp scattered all over the city."

"...and in conclusion, it is obvious to my mind at least that cities are now the castles of warfare. The Germans were bled upon the Soviet sword of Stalingrad when Berlin fell, the fascist regime fell. The traitor Kreigos, the bastard Zarbians and all the forces of the enemy shall fall here in Koo'le'ahn, upon the righteous wrath of Momanguise and the Kreigos!"

There was a smattering of applause for the propoganda. A fiery speach could raise the morale of a defending contingent, but it could not raise barracades, build bunkers of catch the enemy under a withering firestorm. That was the real work, and evidence of it could be observed throughout Koo'le'ahn. From every crevice, no matter its symbolic value, machine guns and anti-tank emplacements scanned the horizen. Civilian rooftops were commandeered into hosting missile emplacements capable of swoting enemy aircraft from the skies, and flak and machine guns dragged into position. In the centre of the city lay the square, swarmed upon my hordes of tanks, angry in their black paint and aggressive and ugly as the squatted in neat rows. They they sat, silent and brooding, protected from the air and ready to repel any attack upon the city. Infantry too could be observed daily, and bunkers, foxholes and other fortified positions were in an abundance. Snipers existed in self contained worlds, cut off from the rest of the army by their camoflauge, and ready to exact a heavy toll upon the enemy.

When the battle came, when the fight for Kriegorgrad was decided, Koo'le'ahn would be ready.

Zarbian Military Headquarters
Krieg, Kriegorgrad

The Zarbians were uneasy, Koo'le'ahn had fallen to the communists and it was likely that Krieg would be the next target. All around the base, preparations were being made for any attack; the final battle would be a long and glorious one.

The conversation between Valentin, Leonov, and Zerkiel had been interrupted with the latest news. Koo'le'ahn, a port city, had been overwhelmed by local rebels as well as foreign communists.

Valentin had been most displeased after hearing of the rebel victory. He immediately called for a gathering of all military personnel to the main courtyard.

"My fellow soldiers, we will NOT bow down to the red filth! We will fight in the streets to defend our allies, the Kriegos need us now in this time of darkness; we will not fail them. Now ready yourselves for the final battle, fight with strong heart and mind. Zarbia has never given in to the disease of communism and we will NOT give in today!"

The soldiers began to applaude and cheer, their leader was right and he would lead them to victory. Valentin put his right hand over his heart before sticking the arm straight out in front of him, the old Nazi salute. The gathered soldiers followed suit, saluting the Lt. General back.

The final battle loomed closer...

OOC: Sorry Pushka, do you mind if we assume your men followed mine?

IC:

Kriegorgrad, Kili'kuk, 1000 Hours

Nikolai woke up, particularly late today as if to place emphasis on the importance of today, as if he needed more sleep than usual...today was the final day of the old era, this was the day that things would change and the cruel tyrants that once worked the people for all they had would be finally placed under the judgement of the people.

Nikolai had noticed that Silas was attentive, he sat in one of the other chairs that occupied the room, the rays of sunlight made Silas seem almost angelic, an avenging ghost sent by the gods to smite down the cruel bourgeoisie who had oppressed the people for so long.

"It is time comrade."

Silas simply nodded and opened the door.

"Is it really happening today?" Silas said as they made their way down the corridor, soon, the rest of Nikolai's entourage arrived and Silas was forced to add "Comrade Leader" after each sentence.

"It is indeed happening today, this is the hour of judgement."

They neared the two final doors, cheering began to waft over them.

"This is the hour of judgement in which those who sinned shall be brought to account for their crimes?"

"The very same."

The double doors burst open and sunlight engulfed the party surrounding Nikolai as they strode into the square.

It was magnificent, truly a sight to behold. Nikolai grinned as his eyes followed the lines of infantry, T72s and a smattering of BTR50s sprinkled throughout the huge army, it was quite astonishing the amount of training that could be wrought upon such a large group.

The revolutionary army was indeed ready for war. A holy war. The final war.

Nikolai cleared his throat and let out a breath before starting his speech.

"And comrades...the time has finally come..."

After about three seconds of talking, the cheering of the army had drowned out Nikolai's voice and Nikolai was forced to wait until the cheers died down. But this time, he decided to keep his message short.

"Go forth and reap the harvest that is the bourgeoisie oppressors!"

Cheers erupted and kept up long after the massive line of armour and infantry had left the city enroute for Krieg.

A marching soldier mused to himself, that it is a fantastic quality of war that the situation can be reversed completely within the space of just a day. One day ago they had been waiting in anticipation as the supposed enemy would fall upon Koo'le'ahn and it would have to be defended by his own blood. Cometh the new day, and the new morn and the war itself metamorphosed into an offensive, when the tools of defence were transformed into assault and the capture of the capital, Krieg, the objective. The column stretched for miles, the great hulking tanks, armoured beasts clad in steel flanking the singing lines of infantry. Overhead, jets passed over the line in a nervous defensive action, ready to ward off any aerial attack.

They were perhaps thirty miles from Krieg itself. Anti-tank guns that had been placed in bunkers were now strapped to jeeps and even civilian vehicles as their designation had changed. Mines had been altered simply so that they acted more as grenades, and so this makeshift army prepared to fall on Krieg with a vengeance. The hour comes, and as the sands of time trickle through the hands of men, the same reckoning awaits all in the bloodied streets of Krieg.

Kriegorgrad, Krieg, Zarbian Military Base, 1700 Hours

It was early evening, the red sky began to give way to clouds when the thunder shook the earth, the sound of trundling tanks, the stamp of feet, the whine of APC's all came back with a hint of nostalgia to the embittered Zerkiel, he broke off his conversation with Valentin and Leonev and ran to his SIV-25, clambering up the IFV and setting himself up in the hatch, he picked up a loudspeaker and a boom went out from the noise enhancing system.

"MOUNT UP! RETURN TO THE SIVs! RETURN TO THE SIVs!"

The base became a flurry of motion as VEPR armoured soldiers poured from all the crevices of the base, blue eyes trailing as the storm properly started, rain shot down earthward, drenching the soldiers and civilians in the city while in the distance, great drums boomed...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kriegorgrad, within sight of the walls of Krieg, 1710 Hours

Nikolai was stood in the open top of the BTR-50, Silas by his side and the rest of his retinue, who weren't leading groups of the Revolutionary Army, were stood behind Silas and Nikolai. Comrade Leader couldn't help but grin as cast a look left and right to see endless masses of infantry with a smattering of ancient tanks.

Nikolai still wore the devilish grin as the massive artillery guns were hauled into position.

Zarbian Military Headquarters
Krieg, Kriegorgrad

Intelligence reports had confirmed that Kriegos rebels, numbering many thousands, were marching on Krieg. The ragtag army wouldn't be too difficult to defeat, once they saw some of their dead comrades they would be running for the hills.

Then came the reports about the Kriegos military; a large portion of the armed forces had joined the communists with their cause. A professional army would prove a challenge, but with the combined efforts of the loyalist Kriegos the Reds would be destroyed.

The alarms were ringing as Zarbian troops were getting suited up and ready for battle. Split up into ten brigades, a total of fifty thousand soldiers were being mobilized to the city walls to meet the enemy. Eight tank corps with supporting artillery would be accompanying them on the battlefield.

All was ready, the coming storm had finally arrived...

Kriegorgrad, Within sight of the walls of Krieg, 0715

The torrential rain beat at Nikolai's small frame but it did nothing to dampen the Comrade Leader's mood, Nikolai still wore the cruel grin and the massive guns were still been hauled into position...

Silas looked to his left and right, he saw among the infantry, great titans of steel, hissing as steam escaped in the cracks, he knew not of their manufacture, nor their origin, all he did know was that the beasts of steel and iron carried with them 600mm mortars. He heard someone in the BTR-50 say something.

"Heh, now the real thunder comes, 'eh comrades!"

A small cheer arose among the leadership of the Revolutionary Army.

Nikolai's grin had faded away into childlike curiosity as he gazed in awe at the mammoth constructs of iron, he had not a clue how many men and women had toiled upon those vehicles but he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the people were those under the Zan Varr regime and therefore, not happy ones.

When the great war was over, when the blood of the oppressors was spilt and the whips of the overseers were cast down, there would be no unhappiness, people would give everything they had to their work and they would do so happily, because they were working for themselves and working to better themselves and their country, not on a nondescript product that will be shipped off to another country to fill the coffers of the capitalists at the apex of the pyramid of oppression.

Nikolai heard shouts of confirmation.

"The guns are ready, Comrade Leader!" could be heard through the downpour of torrential rain that battered at the army amassed outside of the city.

Nikolai rose his arm, visible in the rain and yelled, at the top of his voice.

"Let the thunder shake the walls of Krieg and let those who cower behind them quake in fear!"

There was a massive cheer that swept through the army, that of joy and deep happiness but that was quickly drowned out by the huge mortars firing, great plumes of flame that followed the shells out of the barrel, the ground was shook from the manmade thunder and men went deaf after the first shot, a few screams came out as ear drums burst in bloody displays of crimson.

There was smoke around the one hundred foot walls, ancient black brick that had stood impervious to all previous assaults yet when the smoke cleared, despite the fabled strength of Krieg's walls, there was nothing more than huge mountains of rubble.

With the command BTR-50 static, Nikolai smiled upon the walls, or more so, lack of as the armies poured forth, the old T-72s and rusty BTR-50s lurched forward in unison with the massed infantry, that now had a smattering FN L1A1s in their midst, from where, noone knew but they were there, Nikolai's beaming smile was pulled off it's resting place upon Nikolai's lips when a report reached his ears.

"Sir, one shell went wide...we have no idea where it went but we fear it may have landed in the industrial quarter, the realm of the proletariat!"

Nikolai offered up a prayer for those poor men and women who must have suffered from the mortar's blast...

Krieg, Zarbian Military Base, 0715

Most of the SIV-25s were in neat rows but the soldiers were still running left and right, searching for their IFVs and their commanders, the base was in a form of ironic orderly chaos, people knew where to go but with everyone going in different directions, it was hell.

Then it happened.

The sky seemed to distort around the one projectile spat forth from the clouds, a loud whistle caused many of the crowded Kriegos soldiers to look up with just enough time to scream.

Arbiter Zerkiel VEPR helmet gathered data on the projectile flying to, he had only enough time to have his jaw drop inside the confines of his armoured helm.

A great thunder shook the base as tanks and men were sent flying through the air like mere ragdolls as Zerkiel's IFV was tipped over, sending him clear out of the hatch as the SIV-25 exploded in a display of bright flame, Zerkiel heard no more of the chaos as he landed face down in the mud before drifting into unconsciousness...

Krieg, Zarbian Miltary Base, 0745

Zerkiel awoke slowly to a VEPR clad warrior stooped over him, speaking in a loud clear voice that drifted into a shout to someone outside of Zerkiel's field of vision.

"Sir...he's alive! We have another survivor...wow, we are damn lucky this one survived, it's Zerkiel"

"What has happened..." Zerkiel said hoarsely, he waited for the data to flash up on his HUD.

"Acolyte Zerik."

"Alot sir, the survivors have formed makeshift groups and are moving out, the combat has been pretty intense from what I've heard and we are already suffering casualties...many of which are in this base...It's a mess sir."

Zerik gestured around the base, bodies - and parts of - littered the battle field, as did the burnt out husks of tanks and IFVs.

"Help me up Acolyte."

"Yessir"

The acolyte helped the lightly wounded Zerkiel up while in the distance, the chatter of gunfire came and went between tank blasts which in turn came in between the echoing booms of the distant guns.

"Acolyte Zerik, you are relieved of your medic duties, your new job is to help me walk...and to find us a means of transport, now MOVE!"

The acolyte scampered off startled, Zerkiel fell to the ground and supported himself on an elbow as he scanned over the last shred of data that was in his HUD before the thing landed, it flashed up as his suit came onto full status again, imprinted in Zerkiel's retina in blue letters was the following.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Object located...

Type = munitions.

Status = moving.

Size = 600mm.

Likely hood of harm = 99.9%.

Tactical Suggestion = flee.

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

Zerkiel cast a look to the grey sky and offered up a prayer to the gods high above who had dealt a merciful hand towards the Arbiter.

Kriegorgrad, Krieg, 1435 Hours

Kriegor Zan Varr, for the first time in his life, was fleeing his own nation, a soldier called Zerkiel and his adjutant Zerik were among the few chosen to leave Kriegorgrad, things had gone wrong after the third volley of the big guns in the distance, the “600mm mortars” as Zerkiel explained, the proletarian soldiers of the Revolutionary Army had broken through the sprawl and deep into the heart of Krieg.

The Noble Quarter...

The once gleaming marble and white stone of the Noble Quarter was turned to a dark grey as the storm raged overhead, lightening arced down and illuminated the burnt out cityscape in a flash before throwing the veil of darkness back over the husks of buildings while brother and brother fought in a clash of ideals, the loyalists defending the pillar of authority while the proletarians held the sledgehammer

Another building exploded in a shower of stone and masonry as the 600mm mortar shell found it’s mark, screams could be heard in the distance among the chattering barks of gunfire, it was a wet, shattered city in which all the vices and cruelty of human nature prevailed, gone was the tolerance and love of communism, here was the cold anger of the oppressed proletariat.

…Kriegor was running in the mud of the destroyed city like a peasant, Matthias at his side, it was a true disgrace to see men of such stature running through their living nightmares made reality, there were only about thirty loyalists that were destined to leave Kriegorgrad alive.

Nikolai felt a smile tug at the corners of his face as his BTR-50 trundled over the broken rubble of the walls, most of which had been levelled by now, thanks to the 600mm mortars’ zeal, minutes flew by as the open topped vehicle made it’s way through the burnt out city, blackened char and ash smeared the walls of many a building until they arrived at the noble quarter, the sheer audacity of the white stone structures was astonishing, they had the bottle to remain undamaged despite all the chaos happening around them.

Normally, Nikolai would’ve been enraged but today he hadn’t the time to care for such trivial matters, minutes trickled by once more until the BTR-50 clambered up the steps of the Kriegos palace, not slowing down an iota as it crashed through the double oak doors into the black marble interior of the sinister palace, within seconds, two BTR-50s crashed through nearby walls, destroying some of the oldest and most beautiful architecture Kriegorgrad had to offer.

Nikolai hopped down from the APC and gave a grin of satisfaction as his brute squads leapt down from their own APCs, AK47s held high as they began to sweep through the palace, their camouflage BDUs were designed for the forests of Kriegorgrad and didn’t look right in the blackened confines of the palace.

Kriegor felt relief as he clambered aboard the 737 aircraft, the grill stairway protesting as some thirteen servants clambered up after Kriegor, headed by Matthias on Kriegor’s heels. The servants were followed by Zerkiel, Zerik, a few soldiers of Zerkiel’s division and some of the sages and scholars who surrounded Kriegor Zan Varr when he was ruling Kriegorgrad with an iron fist.

Nikolai let out a roar of rage as he unloaded his tokarov pistol into the empty black marble dais, Kriegor Zan Varr had fled the vengeance he so deserved to receive, the foul daemon of Kriegor had eluded Nikolai’s men and somehow broken through the ever tightening net of proletarian troops.

Nikolai was outraged.

Kriegorgrad, Kriegos air space, 1603 Hours

The 737 had long since left it’s earth bound origin as it soared through the cloudy sky, through gaps in the clouds Kriegor spied flames consuming the city of Krieg and within minutes, the aircraft was flying for Zarbia…

A new dawn

Kriegorgrad, Krieg, 1200 Hours the following day

Nikolai Fedorenkov strode out onto the makeshift podium while a silent crowd waited, the burnt out husk of a city gave an ironic start to the new era of “prosperity” and “peace” for the people of Kriegorgrad. Red banners tried to cover up the bombed out homes but no matter how many banners they decorated the grand square with, you would always see Kriegorgrad’s lowest hour, the bombed out streets, children and their body parts strewn about, the sobbing of widows and fatherless children echoed throughout the streets while “Comrade Leader” Nikolai began his speech through a heavily feedback affected microphone.

”Comrades, too long have we toiled under the cruel whips of oppression, too long have we toiled for a false leader, too long have we sacrificed our sweat and blood for the evil overseers!”

Cheers rippled throughout the crowd as the mood went from solemn to cheerful as the crowd went from a cheer as it burst into a roar of pride, even the soldiers from Nikolai’s brute squads ringing the entire square seemed relatively at ease by comparison to their standard, stony and alert agitation that seemed to flow off them in waves.

Nikolai made a calming gesture with his hands and asked for silence before resuming his speech.

“Now comrades…you do understand, that if we are to keep the Zan Varr regime from returning and enslaving us all…we need to…have certain powers.”

The crowd wasn’t as enthusiastic this time round, the crowd was stood listening intently all the same though.

”Comrades, we have entered a golden age of peace and prosperity, we will usher Kriegorgrad into a new era of equality…”

Cheers erupted once more, after being told to be silent and not complying, the brute squads moved in and smashed some stragglers to the floor with the butts of their rifles.

The crowd fell silent.

“…But all great things, such as equality, come at a price…I presume we are all followers, loosely or strictly on the great works of communism?”

A great roar of pleasure erupted once more, it was as if the heartless beatings by the brute squads had never happened, however, when told to be silent, they complied this time.

”Comrades, let’s look at the word COMMUNISM.

Most of the word [Communi] is short for community.

And the latter part of the word is commonly used in a word of belief.

Communism is one example of this, for it shows our BELIEF in COMMUNITY and in good communities, people don’t keep secrets, secrets are a foul concoction of the bourgeoisie! Do not fall into the vices of the capitalist for we are better than that! We are the chosen of the proletariat; we do not keep any secrets!

Privacy is also another deviant idea picked up from our former bourgeoisie masters! Remember comrades!

[I]Privacy is the first step towards heresy.”

With that, Nikolai stood down from the podium as the crowd roared but this time in anger, the people saw the shackles that were being placed upon them just after the old shackles were cast off.

While the crowds heaved and yelled for justice, the brute squads moved in, butts swinging in a frenzy…