NationStates Jolt Archive

There is a legend amongst the Uratha; the Forsaken Werewolves of Old Chronosia; regarding the creation of the world. In their myth; the Earth had only one continent once; the grand paradise of Pangaea; lorded over by the Guardian of the Border Marches; Urfarah; Father Wolf. On this day; this day of days; a fleet; codenamed Urfarah; tore into being in the region known as the Crucis; an essential portion of the Starenall Empire; One thousand ships; stood ready to fight for the glory of the Imperium; and at their centre; the Metamorphoses; the flagship of Radu Vykos; master of the Rabid Seraphim.

Snarling, hissing, Wolfen Marines glared up at their Lord; who whistled a jaunty tune even as his blade cut flesh; let blood dribble down to them; whet their lips; before kicking the body down; letting his most vicious of warriors feast.

Snivelling Worms; You aid our enemies; you assault our allies; so to shall death touch you. This day we are tooth and claw; we are blood set to boiling and skin set to smoulder. We are masters of the Border Marches; guardians between spirit and flesh; we have come to feed.

FTLi fields sprung into life as the fleet advanced; intent upon Avalon, the Capital world; and the doom of Arc-Royal

~~~Open space, one jump from the coming battle~~~

Admiral Tom Gevren drummed his fingers impatiently on the console as scouts brought in the data needed to calculate the next - and final - jump. Fortunately, the oddly named fleet Plum Jam had been ready and waiting when the call for help arrived, but there was only so quickly that portals could be formed, and he was worried that he would arrive too late to do any good.

Twenty scouts gather information quickly, and soon the fleet's location was known with enough precision to calculate a rough jump. Gevren gave the orders at once, and cursed as the continuing delay made it clear that the first attempt had encountered a FTLi field, and failed to break through. Finally, several minutes later, a cast reached the space near the edge of the field, and a hole in space began to widen.

Even when in this much of a hurry, one never makes a blind jump. While ships and soldiers both made last-minute preparations for battle, an MA-43 scout probe was sent through the portal to scan the immediate vicinity.

OOC: Chronosia, you did you research. What system are you in now?

OOC: Headed for Arc-Royal and Avalon

OOC: Okay. I will post my map soon.

OOC: Map: http://img63.imageshack.us/img63/7278/mapsmall7vi.th.png (http://img63.imageshack.us/my.php?image=mapsmall7vi.png)

OOC: That names nothing...I already told you; I'm headed towards Avalon and Arc Royal; from the east of the top bubble....

OOC: Sorry, but you had not told me where from before. So you will probably hit Rasalhague? Or are you going straight for Avalon and Arc-Royal?

OOC: Do you have MSN? It'd really make this easier.

No, sorry. I have email, and in theory GoogleIM, but nothing else.