Jagada
04-02-2006, 07:12
(OOC: Yea, yea. Mac, I know your probably a bit annoyed that I turned BACK into Jagada. If you want we can consider that you pwned me in the Passion Play and that I just gave up in the Colonial Issue. I just invested too much into this nation to just give it up.)
The sky was red and black, and the earth itself cried out in agony and pain. The once proud forests of the Religious Imperium burned as battle raged across them. Suffering, once an unknown word, was a common place in this forgotten nation. The great monument call the "Tolerance Towers", where a one-hundred story steel and concrete Cross stood next to a giant Crecent, the symbol of Islam, these two titan structures now lay upon the ground, burning. Jagada, the Religious Imperium which once brought hope to the Christian Community, the shinning light in a world of darkness...was almost hell itself.
The capital city of Christendom lay in utter ruins, no building that was two stories or higher was left standing in one peice. The giantic skyscrappers which threaten the Stars themselves where hollow or half destroyed. Mass graves, and thousand of small across covered the lands of the Religious Imperium. When other nations had civil wars, their civil strifes were short and had a lot of destruction, but nothing like this. Jagada was known for its extremely harsh civil wars which could consume entire regions if not properly contained. The sun hadn't shined in close to a year in Jagada. The reason was due to all the smoke, as oxygen was slowly becoming drowned out, it was relatively hard to breath in this atmosphere. The sky red for unknown reasons, but many believed it was red because it now didn't reflect the once beatiful Jagadian oceans...now it reflected the blood which stained the once holy lands of Jagada. The great Religious nation the world had known...had fallen.
Field Marshall York sat in the backseat of his HMMV has his drivers drove him into the destroyed city of Chrisitendom. His mind was hardened, his once hansome jet black hair was not nothing but white, and his face which was once very fair, now was hardened and jagged like a stone--he was only thirty-five. He wanted to cry, he wanted to just let go and show his fear, but he knew he couldn't. The people were in utter agony, the Jagadian civilization was in utter chaos and pain. He reflected once more on the events which transpired in this great nation. The Colonial War between The Macabees and Jagada had left Jagada crippled in terms of international respect, the nation that could never win a war, lost the war yet again. Though something else spawned from the horrors of the Colonial War--the rise of the Fanatics. The Fanatics were the last line of defense, they defended the capital of the province of Essah and were massacred by the Macabee forces in a hailstorm of artillery shells. Though the Fanatics were much more entrenched than that, they have a nearly autonomous 'Order' in Jagada. Remington had let their leash get too loose and too long, and now they sought revenge and power.
A tear rolled down York's cheek has he remebered when the media reports streamed out that the Fanatics were in open revolt. He remebered how he took command of his army and went to attack the Fanatics only to learn that they controlled large chunks of the country and had already decemated the Air Force and had overrun the Navy. Killing Admiral Bradley and Air Marshall Hughes. He remebered how horrified he was about hearing that. He was even more horrified when he launched an assault on the capital in order to save Remington only to have his One-Hundred Thousand (100,000) man army get completely massacured and he barley escape with his life. He shuttered has he remebered how they executed Remington. He want to curl up in a ball and hide until the end of time, but he didn't. He rose up, he united the people in a fiery storm of hatred and bitterness towards the Fanatics. That message, along with an authoritarian nearly insane rule by the Fanatics led to the remnants of the Crusaders to rally behind York in a final last ditch chance to stop the Fanatics. In a bitter war which involved small-scale nuclear weapons and desperate attacks, the end finally came when the Fanatics were driven into the major cities and there they were simply shelled by overwhelming artillery into submission. When they surrendered the Crusaders rushed into the city and quickly execute all of them.
Now they entered the city of ruin, the capital of a once proud Imperium. York looked out the tinted windows of the HMMV and marching into the city in perfect formation were troops in dirty white uniforms and trenchcoats, they were the White Coats, the former Crusaders. They had fought so long for the long and bloody seven year civil war, and now this was their prize. The capital and an end to this savage civil war. They were battle-hardened, many of them had fought in the War against Norris, some had survived the massacre during Jagada's brief admission into the War of Golden Succession. He was being escorted to the Trinity Square, it had been hastily rebuild for his admission as "Lord Protector of Jagada". The HMMV rolled down a few more pothole roads, and down a few more streets where every building was rubble but finally it appeared the Trinity Square. The troops stood in perfect formation and the people cheered as his HMMV passed down the road and stopped in the middle of the square. There was a giant stone stage set up long ago, save it had blood stains and bullet shots in it. York exited the vehicle and lifted his hand into the air has he walked up onto the stone stage and to the podium placed upon it.
He looked at the masses, the troops stood in cynical fashion, they loved York, but their lives were just so screwed up it would be hard to show anything beyond a kind smile, the people were the same. York couldn't blame them, these days it was hard for him to even smile. So much horror, so much sufferings, and yet the people slugged it out with the Fanatics, and marched threw. York knew that God had truly created Humanity, for no evolution could spawn Humans, they were too complex, too realisant, too great a spieces. York lifted his hand in an order to be silent, and the population willing agreed.
"These last seven years have been hard. We are a broken Imperium, we have fought in wars and lost. We have tried to take on the great powers of this world, only to find ourselves cast aside. We paid for this with two of the worst Civil Wars humanity has even seen. The War against Norris costed us millions of lives, this war this Fanatical Civil War has costed us tens of millions of lives. But we have pulled threw, we have cast off the Fanatics and we are here today. We are alive! We have won! I ask that now the people of Jagada pick up their tools, pick up their lives, and begin to heal their souls. Now is the time to rebuild. Though this time we shall truly rebuild. We shall forge from the ashes of this hellish place a nation that all can be proud of. Let is be known today that from the ashes of the Religious Commonwealth and the Religious Imperium that the Trinity Empire of Jagada rose!"
The sky was red and black, and the earth itself cried out in agony and pain. The once proud forests of the Religious Imperium burned as battle raged across them. Suffering, once an unknown word, was a common place in this forgotten nation. The great monument call the "Tolerance Towers", where a one-hundred story steel and concrete Cross stood next to a giant Crecent, the symbol of Islam, these two titan structures now lay upon the ground, burning. Jagada, the Religious Imperium which once brought hope to the Christian Community, the shinning light in a world of darkness...was almost hell itself.
The capital city of Christendom lay in utter ruins, no building that was two stories or higher was left standing in one peice. The giantic skyscrappers which threaten the Stars themselves where hollow or half destroyed. Mass graves, and thousand of small across covered the lands of the Religious Imperium. When other nations had civil wars, their civil strifes were short and had a lot of destruction, but nothing like this. Jagada was known for its extremely harsh civil wars which could consume entire regions if not properly contained. The sun hadn't shined in close to a year in Jagada. The reason was due to all the smoke, as oxygen was slowly becoming drowned out, it was relatively hard to breath in this atmosphere. The sky red for unknown reasons, but many believed it was red because it now didn't reflect the once beatiful Jagadian oceans...now it reflected the blood which stained the once holy lands of Jagada. The great Religious nation the world had known...had fallen.
Field Marshall York sat in the backseat of his HMMV has his drivers drove him into the destroyed city of Chrisitendom. His mind was hardened, his once hansome jet black hair was not nothing but white, and his face which was once very fair, now was hardened and jagged like a stone--he was only thirty-five. He wanted to cry, he wanted to just let go and show his fear, but he knew he couldn't. The people were in utter agony, the Jagadian civilization was in utter chaos and pain. He reflected once more on the events which transpired in this great nation. The Colonial War between The Macabees and Jagada had left Jagada crippled in terms of international respect, the nation that could never win a war, lost the war yet again. Though something else spawned from the horrors of the Colonial War--the rise of the Fanatics. The Fanatics were the last line of defense, they defended the capital of the province of Essah and were massacred by the Macabee forces in a hailstorm of artillery shells. Though the Fanatics were much more entrenched than that, they have a nearly autonomous 'Order' in Jagada. Remington had let their leash get too loose and too long, and now they sought revenge and power.
A tear rolled down York's cheek has he remebered when the media reports streamed out that the Fanatics were in open revolt. He remebered how he took command of his army and went to attack the Fanatics only to learn that they controlled large chunks of the country and had already decemated the Air Force and had overrun the Navy. Killing Admiral Bradley and Air Marshall Hughes. He remebered how horrified he was about hearing that. He was even more horrified when he launched an assault on the capital in order to save Remington only to have his One-Hundred Thousand (100,000) man army get completely massacured and he barley escape with his life. He shuttered has he remebered how they executed Remington. He want to curl up in a ball and hide until the end of time, but he didn't. He rose up, he united the people in a fiery storm of hatred and bitterness towards the Fanatics. That message, along with an authoritarian nearly insane rule by the Fanatics led to the remnants of the Crusaders to rally behind York in a final last ditch chance to stop the Fanatics. In a bitter war which involved small-scale nuclear weapons and desperate attacks, the end finally came when the Fanatics were driven into the major cities and there they were simply shelled by overwhelming artillery into submission. When they surrendered the Crusaders rushed into the city and quickly execute all of them.
Now they entered the city of ruin, the capital of a once proud Imperium. York looked out the tinted windows of the HMMV and marching into the city in perfect formation were troops in dirty white uniforms and trenchcoats, they were the White Coats, the former Crusaders. They had fought so long for the long and bloody seven year civil war, and now this was their prize. The capital and an end to this savage civil war. They were battle-hardened, many of them had fought in the War against Norris, some had survived the massacre during Jagada's brief admission into the War of Golden Succession. He was being escorted to the Trinity Square, it had been hastily rebuild for his admission as "Lord Protector of Jagada". The HMMV rolled down a few more pothole roads, and down a few more streets where every building was rubble but finally it appeared the Trinity Square. The troops stood in perfect formation and the people cheered as his HMMV passed down the road and stopped in the middle of the square. There was a giant stone stage set up long ago, save it had blood stains and bullet shots in it. York exited the vehicle and lifted his hand into the air has he walked up onto the stone stage and to the podium placed upon it.
He looked at the masses, the troops stood in cynical fashion, they loved York, but their lives were just so screwed up it would be hard to show anything beyond a kind smile, the people were the same. York couldn't blame them, these days it was hard for him to even smile. So much horror, so much sufferings, and yet the people slugged it out with the Fanatics, and marched threw. York knew that God had truly created Humanity, for no evolution could spawn Humans, they were too complex, too realisant, too great a spieces. York lifted his hand in an order to be silent, and the population willing agreed.
"These last seven years have been hard. We are a broken Imperium, we have fought in wars and lost. We have tried to take on the great powers of this world, only to find ourselves cast aside. We paid for this with two of the worst Civil Wars humanity has even seen. The War against Norris costed us millions of lives, this war this Fanatical Civil War has costed us tens of millions of lives. But we have pulled threw, we have cast off the Fanatics and we are here today. We are alive! We have won! I ask that now the people of Jagada pick up their tools, pick up their lives, and begin to heal their souls. Now is the time to rebuild. Though this time we shall truly rebuild. We shall forge from the ashes of this hellish place a nation that all can be proud of. Let is be known today that from the ashes of the Religious Commonwealth and the Religious Imperium that the Trinity Empire of Jagada rose!"