NationStates Jolt Archive

"Let's go, let's go, let's go!"

The men stood up and rushed the building. The door was kicked in, and two men playing chess were shot. Another men went for a firearm, and was also killed. The group of men moved upstairs, where another five men were clustered around the door. A grenade took care of them, killing four and severely wounding the last. The rest of the garrison was promptly slaughtered as they blearily climbed or fell out of bed.
***
Molotov Mikael threw the bottle of expensive brandy up against the wall as he read the report. "That's it. I want this war over. But we need help..."
***
To Count JWolf
We desire your aid in ending a civil war in our nation. In return for you aid,
we will give you half of the nation to do as you please, asking only that we
be allowed to retain domain over the other half.

After receiving the message from a Molotov Mikael from the nation of Kologk, the Count did the best thing. Called his cabinet into a meeting, which was both blood and close friends of the Satan himself. The first question was who this nation of Kologk, which was quickly searched and found out as fast as it was asked. Lord Paris had everything printed out and made into folders for the rest of the cabinet to look at.

As the cabinet member looked through the folders, the Count sat back in his large leather chair with a large Cuban in his mouth.

It was quiet in the Count’s dark office until the big bad booty daddy himself said something. “Why should we help only one side? We should just take on both sides and add our forces into the mix.”

Lord Paris looked over at him. “A weird idea, my lord.” he said. “But we could always modified it to our liking.”

“What do you have in mind, Paris?” asked the Count, sitting up in his chair.

“We turn what Molotov Mikael wrote into something you would like.” said Lord Paris.

“The whole nation would be nice but having a Dominionite as their leader would not help anything.” said the Count with a smile only a evil person would made. “Bloods is what I want and I will get it.”

“I know how to get that for you.” said Lord Paris. He wrote something on a piece of paper and handed to the Count.

The smile on the JWolf grew wider. “I will send this right now. The cabinet can do what ever y’all want.” As he turned on his e-mail massager program thing, he watched out of the corner as his cabinet leave the room. The Crown Prince was the only on in the room. “Father, should I…” was all he could get out.

“Yes, I will need the Four Horsemen of Apocalypse in my planning of the attacks.” said the Count.

With that, the large man known as the Crown Prince of the Dominion heads out to call in the Four Horsemen. As his father typed the message to Molotov Mikael….

TO: Molotov Mikael
FROM: From you know who…

Half of the nation, no deal. If you want my forces on your side, you will have to agree to this. The whole nation, everything, becomes Dominion land. From use to do whatever we want. Put a large holes in the ground or whatever I come up with. But…I will allowed you to rule over the land as it is your own. So…you or whoever will be a Dominionite leader.

Or we could always side with the others in this war…

Damn them. Damn them to Hell. But I don't have a choice. I'm losing ground every day. If our cause is to prevail...

To: The Count
It is agreed.

Mikael poured himself a shot of Vodka, looked at it for a moment, and then threw it against the wall and drank deeply from the bottle. Anything to assauge the sudden feeling of guilt.

The Count smiled under the shadow of his black cowboy hat. He gets what he wants, now to make sure that he gets in.

TO: Molotov Mikael

Very well, you have just made a deal that will change your nation’s future. No civil wars will start anymore or those little punks will have to deal with me. If you have a large airport in your forces’ hand, hold it for fourteen hours and you will get the need help. And if you can't hold it for fourteen hours, Dominion cargo planes can land on long straight paved roads.

He send the message and relaxed back in his chair, inhaling the smoke of the cigar. “It is fun being my old self again.”

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

An hour later, there is a knock on the large dark wooden door to the office. The Count was looking at a live feed of Kologk on his thirty-five inch computer screen.

“Come in.” he said loudly.

The large door open with an eerily sound, in walked four men. The horsemen, the bringer of death, the best military minds of the Dominion Armed Force unless you don’t count the Crown Prince and his father.

The first to enter was Grand General Adolph McKnight (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/McKnight.jpg) A.K.A War, the current commander of all of the Dominion Armed Forces under the Grand Marshal, Crown Prince Khaldun. Next came in the current leader of the 1st Blood Wolves, General Ronald Dawson (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/Dawson.jpg) A.K.A Death. McKnight’s son, the current leader of the 4th Raptors, Lieutenant General Jaeger McKnight (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/McKnight2.jpg) A.K.A. Famine. And last of the four horsemen was Lieutenant General Derek 'Death's Hand' Jackson (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/DeathsHand.jpg) A.K.A Pestilence, the current leader of the 3rd Jackson's Roughnecks.

“Men, we have land that need to be taken in the name of the Dominion.” said the Count, standing up. “The nation is Kologk is in a civil war. I have made a deal with one Molotov Mikael that the Dominion gain full control on the land but Mr. Mikael will be Kologk’s government at the end of the war.”

“So…I need an army to be form.” said the Count.

The Count and the Four Horsemen began to create an army for this mission. One that will strike fear in both the enemy and the forces of Mikael. To do that you need both the Blood Wolves and the Shadow Foxes. And mutants always help, too.

God, what have I done? thought Mikael. The alcohol had done nothing to assauge his guilt. Nor had the harder drugs that followed it. Nor had the women that followed them.

Well, we both know what that means, don't we God? The barrel of the pistol was wavering, but it didn't really matter. It wasn't as if he was going to shoot anything at a terribly long range.

I wonder, God, should I be saying hello or goodbye? Well, we'll find out soon enough, eh?

There was a shot, and a thump, and then, after a moment, several feminine voices shrieking.

After thirty minutes or longer, the perfect army has been written on paper. An army that could do two things, kill and do it like a pro. An army mixed with crazy ass named army division, crazier commanders and misfits. Misfits are a group of mutants that live in the Dominion, a large group of the super power beings. They call themselves misfits because they do not looks like regular humans. Misfits are mutants with green scale all over their bodies, four armed tall men and women, male and females covered in fur, beings with angel like wings, and many more examples. They were not called misfits to be rude, it was the name the first true leader of the Misfits called his own kind. The mutant, which was born with short fur all over his body and canine teeth, worked close with the Count to unite his people. It took a year but his dream was real. Wolfclaw became the leader and the name stayed with this group. And that was over hundred year ago.

Back to the army…on the paper, which was laying on the small table, was the best of the best. A true powerhouse of an army. One that can fight and show who is the new master of the Kologk battlefield. General Jaeger McKnight looked over the list, making sure everything was there.

5,000 Blood Wolves
10,000 Dragon Slayers
30,000 Rayse Tigers
30,000 Mason's Wolves
100 Shadow Foxes

“Looks good. Twelve support soldiers to one Blood Wolf or six support soldiers to one Dragon Slayer.” said Jaeger.

“Good.” said the Count standing on the raised platform, having a drink with War. “Now Death, Famine, Pestilence, my horsemen, make this army into some other then paper.”

“Yes, my lord.” the three said at the same time. The three dropped to one knee and lower their head to the Count. A few second, they were standing up and heading off to get this army together.

The Grand General looked over at the Count. “Get a message back?” he asked.

“Nope, but we are landing in the farmlands. What is reported to be the land of People's Comitee for Glorious Revolution. The group of Molotov Mikael.” said the Count. “If his forces treat us as enemies, it will be the last thing they do.”

“Ah…” said the Grand General.

Twenty hours later…the first of the C-13 Jackrabbit supersonic cargo aircrafts neared the coast of Kologk. All black, flying under the RADAR and running with not light at late night, the transport planes would be surprise to anybody. There are only six of them, twenty feet apart from each other.

These Jackrabbits which can carry hundred soldier or 170,000 pounds (85 tons) (76,644 kg) of cargo or vehicles. The two planes outer edge were carrying hundred soldiers of the 7th Dragon Slayers. In the middle two planes, the soldiers of the 6th Blood Wolves waited as best as they could. The last two planes had a mix between both the support soldiers of the 10th Rayse Tigers and of 14th Mason's Wolves. No wheel transports, only ground soldiers.

There were two reasons, the vehicles of the PCGR could be used to transport and that the Dominion vehicles were coming about an half of hour behind the first wave.

The planes moved closer…

((Mind if I jump in? I AM a resident of Kologk! Oh, and JWolf will know this character very well. I hope you don't mind me having Murph say a few things.))
Earnest twirled the olive in his margarita. He normally didn;t drink. He was a prohibitionist and hated alcahol. But Earnest had fell into so many temptations...What's one more? Just a bit of booze...He's seen so many of his friends drink until they were shitheaded and have the time of their lives. Besides, Earnest was three hundred years old and was hit in the leg with a cannonball two hundred years ago and jumped on a grenade to defend his family. He has yet to die. There's not enough liquor in the world to make his liver fail.
"You jus' gunna stare at that fo' a while?" the bartender asked. Earnest guessed this was Murph, the owner and bartender of the bar, named Murph's. He didn't look back when two men walked into the bar, one wearing a large disguise. The other was a Persian about 33 years old and heavily armed. Murph looked at teh disguised man and sighed and looked back at the Persian.
"What'll it be?" Murph asked. The Persian held up two fingers.
"White Russians."
Two white Russians were placed on the table. The Persian looked at Earnest.
"You gonna drink that?"
"Probably not."
Murph turned on the TV. It was some news network of some obscure, internationally active nation whose media was well-reported. Basically, BBC.
"-And Kologk, after so many years of constant civil war, is now under the possibility of invasion by the Dominion of Trannsylvania. While some say this is an oppertunity of constant turmoil and war to be ended, the possibility is criticized as an illegal invasion by some. There are no actual-"
"Murph, turn it up."
The television became louder. It told mostly about Kologk's history and Trannsylvania's known military history and then went onto a report about the connection between the increase of explosive flatulants in dung beetles and the decreased effects of Global Warming, or something obscure that Earnest placed in the next report's place.
"JWolf, you crazy bastard," he snickered, "Once you realize I'm here, we're in for some good times."
It was the stares that told him that his comment wasn't completely to himself.

An experimental radar plane was the first to spot the incoming troop planes. A radio message was sent, "Transylvanian troops, we have prepared a runway for your use. We are transmitting coordinates now."
***
At the runway, a welcoming party was being prepared. Which was to say, several hundred men and fifty tanks. Someone had been having second thoughts, and wasn't at all sure if the Transylvanians came as liberators or conquerers, especially now that Molotov, with whom the actual deal had been maded, was dead. Better to be safe that sorry. So the concealed troops waited, prepared to make their presence known at the first sign of hostility.

OOC: Nice, you can be allowed VotG. FYI, the Count is not going to be fighting.

IC: The lead cargo plane, one carrying the commanders of this army, got the message first. “We copy that.” said the head pilot. He turned out the radio link to the PCGR forces. The co-pilot flipped to onboard radio channel. “We have runway to land on.” said the head pilot. “You can get your men ready.”

“Roger that.” came a deep voice back.

The co-pilot turned off the in plane channel and moved to the other planes’ radio channels. The message was send to the other planes, get into order to land on the runway.

The lead plane spotted the runway and began to lower toward it. The landing gear already lowed, everything was okay. The back tires touched first, followed by the front ones. As the plane slowed down, the Blood Wolves in the back were ready in full Transylvanian body armor. Before the planes entered into Kologk national airspace, the soldiers were ordered to get their shit together and get ready for anything. So…they were ready.

The plane stopped at the end of the runway and turned around. As the plane was fully turned around and facing the other way, the back door was opened. Out came soldiers in brick red and black Transylvania body armor, DR-83 tactical rifles in their hands and AMA7000 9mm sidearms at their hip hostlers. Their heads looked at the surrounding area, their helmets were on infrared.

Five figures walked out after the Blood Wolves created a defense barrier between the plane and them, a circle formation. The figures were all in brick red and black Transylvania body armor but they still did not fit in with the others. The lead two figures wore black leather dusters, to the middles man looked like he was wearing a white cloak on his armor, and the last two were had long black capes. One of the caped men had dark horns on his head.

“I need a view from the air.” said the deep voiced man.

“Yes, sir.” said the middle man, at that time his cloak moved like it was not a set of clothes. Something was strange about this man, his cloak began to form white angel like wings. The wingspan was twice the man's height, which was six foot two inches, meaning the wingspan was twelve feet four inches wide. The man's body lowers down then he pushs off into the air, flying like a bird over the surrounding area. His helmet on infrared vision.

“Clear a path for the plane to take off. I don’t see anything that would harm us.” said the deep voice man. The Blood Wolves in front of the plane moved to the sides and allowed the cargo plane to start down the runway. As the planed enter the air, the first group of Blood Wolves moved to the side of the runway in groups of fifty soldiers each. The four other soldiers, the angel still in the air, were on the right side of the runway.

The next cargo plane start to land…

"Sir, there's a Seraphim here!" Asrael muttered into his radar.

"No, son," spoke his controller, "There is not."

"I saw him. He flew, and he appeared to be scanning for threats."

"Are you under the thermal tent?"

"Yes, Father."

"Good. Now listen to me, he is a false angel. A genetic accident, nothing more. Intelligence suggests such things are common in The Transylvania. Now, Molotov made a deal with one of the devil's forms on the earth. I want you to stop it from being sealed."

"Then..."

"Yes, son. You have the Church's blessing to proceed."
***
Asrael flew over the runway, masking himself from visual and thermal sight with heat distortions in the air, and seeming nothing more than a slight shimmer. He raised his hands, and shot a stream of fire at the plane currently landing, hoping to fry the soldiers before they could exit.

An attack that was caught as a surprise, it was a big surprise to everybody. Fire coming from the sky, did this nation have mutants too? The fire head the top of the plane and began to loss control, but it was on the runway. So, no crashing from this plane. The soldiers in this plane, a 50/50 mix of soldiers the 10th Rayse Tigers and of 14th Mason's Wolves, began jumping out and hitting the runway. Their armor will save them from broke legs and arms because of the inner skeleton, which was made to help the wearer to use the heavy suit as best as he could. If some land on their head, they would just get a strong headache.

The Blood Wolves on the ground began firing at the location of fire attack, tracer rounds flew through the air.

“Hold your fucking fire!” yelled the deep voice man. “Bloodwing, take that fucker out!”

Bloodwing, the angel mutant, had a Wild Tiger Commando Knife (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/WildTigerCommandoKnife.jpg) in each hand, heading towards the location of the fire attack. Ready to gut the son of a bitch that attack the cargo plane.

On the runway, the cargo plane heads off the runway and the bodies of the soldiers were laying on the runway, the pilots were the last to jump out. Unlike the soldiers, they were not wearing Transylvanian body armor and they had broken legs or arms. A few of the Rayse Tigers ran over to the pilots and the rest of the cargo plane crew, laying on the edge of the runway. The cargo plane, which top was on fire, could be seen going on it way.

Asrael saw the false angel coming, a knife in each hand. Guessing that the helmet contained a thermal sensor, he created several thermal images of himself, while flying upwards. Quickly swooping so one of the thermal images is between them, he shot a fireball at his attacker, while almost lazily firing another stream of fire at the troops on the ground.

“Damn, smart mother fucker.” said Bloodwing as the attacker somehow created version of himself. They will find out later, how he did it. He flipped to night-vision with push of a button on the side of his helmet. The HUD turn from blue and red to green.

On the ground, the soldiers did the same thing. If the attacker wants to play games, then it is on. They all moved out, both the Blood Wolves and support soldiers, into small four men group. To create many targets and not a large target for the attacker. The soldiers from the attacked plane, were moving out of the open of the runway. They grabbed up cargo crew that had broken legs or arms and moved out, but two of the crew were dead. One with a broke neck and the other maybe hit his head on the ground to hard.

The soldiers on ground saw the fireball attack on Bloodwing, so he was warned about it. The fireball was coming fast on his six, so his wings moved inward and the barrel rolled out of the way. The fire attack on the ground was close to a small group. But they moved as the right time and were save.

The fireball passed to the right of Bloodwing, he had enough of this. His wing shot back and his body went straight up. He was hovering in the sky, looking for the attacker.

“There you are.” he said, threw one of that knives at the attacker. Then the other a few second later. Wild Tigers were not made to be throwing knives, so what was he doing. His DR-83 tactical rifle, which was on his back the whole time, spun around the angel’s body and targeted at the attacker.

Bloodwing aimed at the back and fired a shot. One that would hit the spine, if it hit the attacker. On the grounds, seeing that Bloodwing was far away. A Blood Wolf with a Maxeighteen sniper rifle (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/Maxeighteen.jpg), targeted the attacker, leading his target through the rifle’s scope, aiming at the attacker hip, the trigger was squeezed.

Asrael reacted with the lightning fast reflexes which had saved his life before, spinning in the air. The bullet aimed at his hip missed him, but the one aimed at his spine hit him in in the wing, near his shoulder. He grunted in pain and fell towards the earth, pulling up barely in time, and several more fireballs at both of the shooters.

Bloodwing, having his wings his whole life, all twenty-five years of it, can use them like an arm or legs on a normal person. He pushed himself downwards and rolled out of the way of the fireballs aimed at him. As the attacker changed back to the ground forces, more bullets left his rifle at the attacker.

The Blood Wolf sniper jumped out of the way of the incoming fireballs. But he did feel the heat of those attacks, he looked back at his feet to see them on fire. Before his feet became cooked, two other Blood Wolves threw blankets on the man’s feet.

The horned man was getting mad. He closed his right hand in a fist and opened it fast, creating a baseball sized fireball. He began to sending as many of them flying at the winged attacker.

Asreal laughed out loud. The bullet didn't seem to have done any major damage, and now this fool was trying to slay him with fire. Him? Asreal? Still, it wouldn't do to let his full talents be seen yet. Let them continue to think that he could only throw fire. He altered the path of the fireballs, but only slightly, to make certain none would hit him. A complicated aerial somersault placed him directly above a building, which he calmly bombed the roof off of, revealing the troops inside.

Let's see what the false angel makes of that, He thought, diving to place the building between him and the false angel, so that he would have to fly over the building to get to him.

He also began slowly heating up the concrete under the feet of the troops. Not enough to be noticed unless any of them were barefoot, but a mere prelude to what was to come.

The soldiers in the building were not Dominionites, the Dominionites were in the open. Better to see the attacker to see your target then to hide and not see your target. Maybe these soldiers were the Dominonites’ ally soldiers. Maybe soldiers of Molotov but they could die to spot this attacker.

At the same all Dominionites on the ground, one hundred ninety-nine soldiers, armed with a DR-83 tactical rifle (Blood Wolves) or a DAC-97 sub-machine gun for the support soldiers, began firing at the attacker as he hovered above the building. Bloodwing added to the mix. All guns were on semi-auto. It was a cool light shows as the tracer rounds flew through the air from each side at the winged attacker.

((Well, if you're flying and throwing fireballs at each other, I suppose an ice storm won't be too illegal. And I'm presuming it's night.

Oh, and if Earnest is here, he'll make sure JWolf will know it.))
Suddenly the dark sky became dark. The bright crescent moon was covered with thick, dark clouds and the air became chilled. The Dominion soldiers began to watch their breath and only the fireballs warmed teh air, it seemed. It was an unholy act that was being performed, and Asrael knew it. Suddenly, he felt something wet on his back. It began to rain, and cold. The rain got harder and colder as the freak storm continued, and eventually harsh, fast winds came about in teh storm, creating the need for most of the soldiers to find shelter from the wind. But anyone with any form of magical sensing could realize that this freak storm wasn't a natural one. Greater powers were behind it.

Asrael yelled with fury and pain as a bullet scraped his arm. A globe of fire sprung up around him, hot enough that the uniforms of the soldiers in the building began smoking, despite him being nowhere near them. The bullets melted before they hit him.

"Stop trying to kill me with your men, demon, and fight me!" Screamed Asrael, as the pavement began to bubble. It stopped soon, against the unnatural storm, Asrael decided not to risk expending the power. Instead, he focused on his fire shield, trusting the ice that was beginning to form to force the false angel to land.

The weapons stopped firing not because of what the attacker said, the freak ice storm made the soldiers stop firing. These place was getting weirder then the Dominion. The soldiers all looked at the attacker as a few took over some spotlight and pointed them at him. A mutant?

Bloodwing took his cue and flew towards the runway, he threw his rifle to a near by soldiers and undid his helmet. As he took it off, his blue eyes and blonde hair could seen. He hands the helmet to other soldier. His breath seen through the ice cold air.

The deep voiced man walked over to Bloodwing and undid his helmet, showing of his dark tanned skin and those horns on his head. Both his body armor and Bloodwing was custom made for them.

“That man is bad.” said Phoenix Rockwolf, the deep voiced man. “To take that much firepower and still being alive.”

“I know, sir” said Bloodwing.

“Bring him down here. I want to talk with him.” said Phoenix. He turned and back. “And somebody figure out something about this ice storm.” he yelled.

Bloodwing pushed himself into the air and flew to the attacker. He hovered ten feet in front of him. “Who are you and what are you?”

"I... am a Seraphim... in the service... of the Holy Kologkian Church." All but the first word was a scream, and he had to stop several times throughout it. It was obvious that he was having trouble keeping up this much power against the ice storm.

"You... are a false angel... and a demon!"

“No, I’m a mutant. I am a Misfit.” said Bloodwing, who could tell this attacker was having trouble talking and do something else. “I am not a false angel or demon. I have never call myself an angel or a demon.”

Bloodwing looked like he was having no trouble with the ice storm, he was but he was not showing it. “I was born this way. I’m a soldier in the service of the Dominion Armed Forces and nothing else. Now, land before you fall from the sky.”

With that, Bloodwing shot upward and turned back to the runway.

"Do it, Asrael."

"Father?"

"Do it. If what he says is so..."

"But you said..."

"I was wrong, son. Now land!"

"Yes, father."

Asrael slowly lowered himself to the runway, but kept the fire shield up.

Bloodwing land at the same time as the attacker. “Who are you talking to? Voices in your head?” he asked. Phoenix looked over at them and used his hand to tell Bloodwing to come over to him.

Bloodwing wrapped his wings around his body and looked back at the attacker. “My CO wants to talk to you.” he said. He started over a building that block the ice storm that Phoenix was in. “We will not harm you, if you tell us why you attacked our plane.” said Bloodwing.

Two of the support soldiers, both from the 10th Rayse Tigers, head off to find Molotov’s men. The runway was clear but there was ice on it now. The rest of the planes could not land, so the options is to Para-drop into the area. The soldiers on those planes began ready to start that.

As soon as Asrael landed, the ice storm stopped. The magical energy that could be felt by any hightened being could sense had disappeared. There was something amok, but it was difficult to place one's finger on it. The Drow were becoming more involved with their hosts. Now that the Dominion was invading, their increased involvement was inevitable. The Drow were here and here to stay.
The Trannsylvania would make sure of it, and the Matron Queen would make sure of that.
--
"Wait up!" the Persian called to Earnest as he walked away from Murph's. Earnest swung about and faced him.
"You're Earnest Equanant of Green Sun."
"Aye."
"You founded my fatehr against Emperor Pudu. General Stowes."
He put his hand out. Earnest shook it.
"He had a little one, I see. I didn't know Stowes aside from meeting him at Heidi's wedding. That whole thing was wierd."
"From what I heard. Cake ties and a cake dress?"
"Nevermind. Anyway, what do you want?"
"Pananab's boring now. Heard of Kologk and its turmoil and went back to being a Merc. No work at the most peaceful part of the country."
Earnest laughed.
"Of course not. I head of some deep, dark force and decided to check it out here. Haven't found a lick of evidence other than fanatical assholes. But it seems you could work for my old friend, it seems."
Stowes spat.
"JWolf? Pah. Wouldn't bother using the bullet on 'em. They're some crazy fuckers in their army. I avoid them."
"And their government. Hey, I'll pay you a hundred fifty a day if you help me find this...Thing I'm looking for."
Stowes thought.
"Nah, I smell a battle in western Kologk. I'm going to check it out."
"Well, it was nice seeing you. I'm going to go to the mountains for a bit."
"Fine. I'll see you later. Maybe."
"Maybe."
And so Stowes left in another direction. Earnest walked to the edge of town, where it became lavender dark. He couldn't see anything around him. He felt a blade in his back.
"You're teh dark presence, I presume?" Earnest asked. The startled Drow pulled the knife out and fled. Earnest laughed, dropped his bag, and made chase.

Now, this was getting weirder. The freak ice storm just stopped and everything that it did was slowing be taken care with. Using water truck on the airport, commandeered by some support soldiers, the runway was being cleared of the ice. What the fucking is going on here?

When the ice was off of the runway, the next in line cargo plane began to land. They would do that until the fourth planes lands. Something was up with this land and the Dominionites need to find out what or who was doing this stuff.

And the Count thought this was going to be a cake walk…

Asrael laughed as the ice storm ceased. Without having to maintain his flame against that he was sure he could slaughter the false angel and the soldiers. The other 'Misfits' might prove a problem, since he didn't know what they could do.

But Father Dominic had given him instructions to try and talk first, and so he would. "I am speaking to my handler. He gave me the instructions to attack your plane, and he instructed me to talk. So I will talk with your CO. Lead me to him."

“Well, follow me Mr. Seraphim male.” said Bloodwing. Maybe unknown to the attacker, the same Blood Wolf with the sniper rifle, which shot at him early, had his scope on the back of the attacker’s head.

Bloodwing lead the attacker to the building, where Phoenix and the three other Misfits were in.

“Sir, our attacker.” said Bloodwing as he walked into the building, which had a large opening on the side.

Phoenix just looked at Asrael. “What is your name, angel? And I thought angels were good beings not evil fire throwing beings.” He said.

The two Blood Wolves in black duster had their helmets off to show their green reptilian scales all over their face and unseen the scales were everywhereon their bodies. Both of their eyes were green with red pupils. The other one with a cape that match’s Phoenix, he still had his helmet on.

"I am Asrael. I attacked under orders from Father Dominic."

Asrael brought the fire shield closer to himself so as not to light the building on fire, but still did not lower it.

"And since all indications are that you are here to assist the so called Saviour of our Country Molotov, I feel no remorse."

He surveyed the other misfits. "Can they do anything, or do they just look strange?" He asked Phoenix.

“Well, Asrael, you are correct. The Dominion has made a deal with Molotov but he is not the savior of your nation.” said Phoenix, his name and rank, Lieutenant General, on the upper left side of the chest armor in true army style. “Molotov made a deal with the person that will make sure this godforsaken civil war ends.”

He looked over at the others in the room. “Why would I tell you their powers, if you are the enemy?”

At that time, the third cargo plane lands on the runway. The cargo plane, which was attack, was in a near by field. Still on fire…and it had enough fuel to make it go boom. In five minutes, the fire would hit the fuel and create a light show.

"Fair enough," granted the seraphim. "As for ending this war, that is all well and good, except for the fact that the man who made the deal would outlaw our religion, would crucify the Church Father himself. Would make this land over into a world in which all are equal, and all are worthless. And I swear, I will fight against that, even if it means standing against you and yours alone."

He crossed his arms, "So tell me, why shouldn't I fight you?"

“What man, Molotov or the Count?” asked Bloodwing, who cocked his head to the side..

“Why? To save your life.” said Phoenix. “If the church stays out of our way, they will be save. Get in the way of the Dominion, they will be targets. Understand?”

A large man stepped down the cargo plane’s back ramp, there was some strange about him. He had two extra arms, under his normal ones. His body looked like he was a body builder, a muscled hunk of a man. He was a Blood Wolf and Misfit. The man lifts all his arms and roars as he looks at the sky.

"Ask if he can guarentee the safety of the church."

"You can guarentee the safety of the church?" Asked Asrael increduously. "You have that authority, and your word can be trusted?"

“I do have that authority in this battlefield. If the church stays out of the way, they will not be harm by Dominion forces.” started Phoenix. “Trust me with I say this, any member or members of the church seen in a battle and not on our side. That is classified getting in the way. So…stay away and watch the battles from afar.”

Asrael stood stock still for several moments, except for tilting his head slightly. Finally, looking as if it was painful to him, he nodded. "What of when the battle is over? What of the church then?"

“We can figure that out after the war is over.” said Phoenix, looking Asrael in the eyes. Showing no fear. “It is too soon to agree to anything but stay out of our way and we can see what becomes of the church at the end of the war.”

"Very well, but I warn you now. The church will not go silently into the night."

“Stay out of our way and I don’t care what the church does.” said Phoenix. “Now, go back to where you came from.”

The third cargo plane was unloaded and entered the air. As the fourth one started towards the runway, when the second plane blew up. Creating a twenty to thirty foot fireball in the air. The Dominionites outside just looked over at the fire. “Damn, that was fucking cool.” one of them said.

The spell worked. The Angel had been forced to land both by his spell and by the Dominion forces. Granted, there was some damage to the runway, but that wasn't his intention, and the Dominion soldiers seemed to have improvised. The wizard turned to his brother, a skilled melee warrior but a horrible shot. He was there for 'Protection' but the wizard was among the best shots in the city and was more likely to get in ore kills than his brother. Neither feared teh other for their assurance in their abilities, the wizard for his ability to aim and his magics and the other for his incredible melee fighting experience and training and his experience against wizards, not to mention teh fact neither of them would gain anything from killing the other. It was wonderful ignorance that kept them both alive. As they walked down the hill, the fighter realized they were beign followed. The Wizard, now tired from his exposure to the sun, the use of a powerful spell outside of the caverns, and the long walk from the nearest friendly bed, assured his brother that the men following them were of no concern to them. They didn't know they were about to establish a first contact with the Dominion.

Asrael strode out of the building and took flight. As soon as he was out of range, a solid wall of blue fire sprang up about five hundred yards from the landing zone, stayed there for a full five seconds, and then disappeared.

bump

OOC: Sorry, it took so long. School and everything.

IC: With the attacker gone, the Dominion landed the last cargo plane and loaded the crew of the attacked cargo plane onto the last cargo plane. The Blood Wolves moved out and formed a defense barrier around the runway and the surrounding area.

Phoenix looked down at his watch and said “The other cargo planes should be here now.” He looked up to see the them in the sky. These six had vehicles on them. “Have we found Molotov’s men?”

The men in the room all said no.

A short, plump man bustled up to the group. "I'm very sorry for the delay," he said, "What with Mikael's suicide, everything's been thrown into chaos and I wasn't able to get here until just now. I trust you had a safe journey?"

Phoenix looked over at this short plump man, which had four assault rifles pointing at his head because you just don’t bustled up on armed soldiers. Phoenix gave the four soldiers a sign to low the rifles.

“We had a safe journey until one of our planes was attack by a flying demon angel thing that shot fire.” said Phoenix. “So… who are you?”

"I'm sorry. Where are my manners? Well, as I said it's been hectic. My name is Gerald Landrey, and I think I'm in charge at the moment. Or at least, I was when I left. Who knows what's happening now, eh?

Hold on, did you say that you were attacked by one of the Seraphim? That shouldn't have happened. They normally don't come anywhere near this far into our territory. Are you sure? No, stupid question, of course you are. Hard to mistake. They must have hear of Mikael's death, poor man."

“Oh…I‘m Lieutenant General Phoenix Rockwolf of the 1st Blood Wolves.” said man that looks like a demon. “And I made a deal with the attacker, an Asrael, the Dominion will not attack the church unless they get into the way. But that does not mean your forces can’t attack it on their own.” At that part, he smiled a evil grin showing off fanged teeth.

“As of now, my forces will stay until the whole forces of soldiers and vehicles arrive from the Dominion, which could take twenty-four hours. But I can send a small unit of Blood Wolves to go back with you and make sure you stay in charge of Mikael’s forces.” said Phoenix.

"I see you don't quite understand how things work around here. If I'm not in charge when I get back, I'll probably be dead by morning, whether or not your men are there. No insult to them. You see, no one would make a move against me if they hadn't compromised someone close to me. And, come to think of it, there's not really any reason you would support me over anybody who may try to overthrow me. I do thank you for the offer though."

Phoenix turned around and looked over at the runway as a cargo plane touched down and started to unload. From the cargo hold of the plane came a black M1 Abrams main battle tank with the symbol of the Dominion, which is the cobra and two Anubis figures on the Dominion flag, and the symbol (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/1st.jpg) of the 1st Blood Wolves. A show of power for a nation that can transport an Abrams in the air.

“I'll side with you, Mr. Landrey, for the fact you came here and said that you were in charge.” said Phoenix. “If you say that you are in charge then you will be in charge. Now, if you return and find out somebody took over, I will handle it. Unless you don’t want to be in control.”

"Well, it's your choice of course, but I wouldn't want the alliance to fall apart because of a little trouble with leadership. But then, I imagine if I wasn't in charge anymore, someone would have told me by now. Oh, well. If you want, I'll lead your men back to headquarters."

“The alliance has already fell because of the death of Mikael. But we did not know until you told me. So..it is still there. The news of Mikael's death will be a surprise to my lord but our deal will be fulfilled.” said Phoenix, his back still to Gerald. “Every piece of land I stand on in this island, I know it is Dominion control land. For us Dominionites to do whatever we want. To fulfill this deal, we will kill everybody that stand up against of us.”

Phoenix turned and faces him. “Good, twenty Blood Wolves will be waiting by some HMMWVs. These men will go with you to your headquarters.”

If Gerald looked, he would see these soldiers that would travel with him near where he was. The tall four armed man was with the small group that waited by four M1097A1 HMMWVs and two M1026A1 HMMWVs with M2 .50 caliber machine gun mounted on top. The vehicles would be crewed by soldiers of the 10th Rayse Tigers. The six vehicles were black and had the same symbols as the Abrams had.

“If you need to get in touch with me, one of the soldiers can call me.” said Phoenix.

The spell worked. The Angel had been forced to land both by his spell and by the Dominion forces. Granted, there was some damage to the runway, but that wasn't his intention, and the Dominion soldiers seemed to have improvised. The wizard turned to his brother, a skilled melee warrior but a horrible shot. He was there for 'Protection' but the wizard was among the best shots in the city and was more likely to get in ore kills than his brother. Neither feared teh other for their assurance in their abilities, the wizard for his ability to aim and his magics and the other for his incredible melee fighting experience and training and his experience against wizards, not to mention teh fact neither of them would gain anything from killing the other. It was wonderful ignorance that kept them both alive. As they walked down the hill, the fighter realized they were beign followed. The Wizard, now tired from his exposure to the sun, the use of a powerful spell outside of the caverns, and the long walk from the nearest friendly bed, assured his brother that the men following them were of no concern to them. They didn't know they were about to establish a first contact with the Dominion.
((Trans?))

((Trans?))

OOC: What? All my forces are at the runway and are not following anybody. For that fact, I never role-played it. So…no Dominionites are following the wizards.

((Okay, fine. Could we have Kologk capture them?))

((Okay, fine. Could we have Kologk capture them?))

OOC: Up to him, maybe that is who is following them. We will see, now no more OOC post please.

"All right, boys. Hold it right there. You just left Kologkian Real Estate Lmtd territory, and that means that Jerome's laws about preying on visitors don't apply. I'm gonna ask you to drop your weapons, and hand over any valuables you might have. If either of you goes for a gun, you'll both be dead by the time you can draw it, capiche?"

As if to prove his point, several laser sights played over both men.

Phoenix looked over at Gerald. "Are you staying or leaving?" He asked, the tone of way he asked was cold and dark.

Gerald shrugged and got into his small, armor plated car, driving off towards the headquarters.

The six Dominionite vehicles formed up behind Gerald‘s car. The two M1026A1 HMMWVs in lead of the four M1097A1 HMMWVs. Two soldiers of the 10th Rayse Tigers crew the M2 .50 caliber machine gun, their dark hard blue and white Transylvanian body armor looked strange in a battlefield but the helmet cold lifeless red lens did fit into a battlefield scene.

"All right, boys. Hold it right there. You just left Kologkian Real Estate Lmtd territory, and that means that Jerome's laws about preying on visitors don't apply. I'm gonna ask you to drop your weapons, and hand over any valuables you might have. If either of you goes for a gun, you'll both be dead by the time you can draw it, capiche?"

As if to prove his point, several laser sights played over both men.
The two Drow glared at his and then noticed the lasers. They looked at each other and tossed down their guns and a few blades (But not all of them, which were concealed in several places.) They raised their arms in the air, knowing this to be a sign of surrender. They both looked at each other and they chuckled together. A small orb fell to the ground, blinding everyone there, including the Drow Elves themselves, but they were not as surprised as the soldiers, and they used the oppertunity to flee back towards the airfield, where they guessed it was safer. When their eyesight returned (Albiet a bit painful still) they realized they had ran too far and were now standing on concrete in the middle of the parking lot.

The two Drow Elves would be surprise to found out they were looking down the barrel of M1 Abrams main battle tank, which was waiting the parking lot of the airfield. Ten Blood Wolves surround them a few seconds later, their DR-83 tactical rifles aimed at the two strange beings’ heads.

Then Bloodwing lands on top of the Abrams, his wings out and waiting to be used to enter the air again.

“And who may you two be?” he asked.

The bandits stayed a considerable distance away, watching.

"Is that a seraphy thingy?" One of them asked the leader, "Since when does the church come this far?"

"i don't see him doing anything with fire," responded the leader, "Most of them do. And that ain't no church symbol."

He pointed at the Dominionite symbol. "Jerome will pay good for info on this. Let's go."

The men stole away.

The two Drow Elves would be surprise to found out they were looking down the barrel of M1 Abrams main battle tank, which was waiting the parking lot of the airfield. Ten Blood Wolves surround them as few seconds later, their DR-83 tactical rifles aimed at the two strange beings’ heads.

Then Bloodwing lands on top of the Abrams, his wings out and waiting to be used to enter the air again.

“And who may you two be?” he asked.
"This is your fault," the wizard muttered to his brother in Drow.
"How is it my fault? You dropped the bombs!"
"If you had been AWARE of our surroundings, we wouldn't be looking at our first tank, now would we?"
"Shut up and answer him!"
The wizard cleared his throat.
"I am Molorvir, and this is my brother, Zekutrin. We represent another...I suppose you could call it a new arrival, in Kologk. We are relatively new, and wish to initiate...A deal of mutual value between our nations. Things didn't exactly go as planned, but my storm was useful, wasn't it?" the wizard said in German.

Bloodwing listened to the one called Molorvir but the rifles and the tank's barrel stay pointing at the two beings. He stayed quiet for a few seconds before the deep voice of Phoenix was heard.

“The storm was useful, real fucking useful.” he said in German. “For your info, you and your brother are standing on Dominion soil. A deal was make with my lord and a leader of one of the many factions of this nation.”

“Now, who are these other new arrivals?” he asked, climbing up the side of the tank.

Confident that German was the dominion's natural language now, he continued speaking in German.
"We are the Drow. Once feared throughout teh Realms, our city has mysteriously changed entire planes of exsistance. We have adapted well in this new world of vice and destruction. However, our power needs to be...Secured. Our city is located in a relatively peaceful area in Kologk, so it would quite safe to arrange a meeting between formal representitives, which, I assure you, my brother and I are not. Are you interested?"

“Interested?” said Phoenix in English then changed it to Spanish. “Arrange a meeting between formal representatives in the middle of a nation’s civil war? That is just stranger then you two.”

He changed back to speaking German, “Well, go back your city is located in a ‘relatively peaceful area’ in Kologk and tell them to send some to this airfield.”

“Understand?” he asked.

The mage sighed deeply and closed his eyes for a few moments, muttering every once in a while. Then he opened his eyes. He turned to his brother and said,
"Nin udos ph' wun degahr, lu' ol zhah jal DOSST xunin."
The brother just sighed and rolled his eyes. Molorvir looked back to the Trannsylvanian and said, this time in some strange African dialect,
"The city is a bit far. It's not as simple as flying over Kologk or using a boat around the nation, but they'll get here, I assure you. For us, it was really just a manner of luck."
He realized that he wasn't speaking a familiar language to them and said it again in English and added,
"My family is well-known for our linguistic abilities, it takes us a short time to learn different languages."

“Well, go now and maybe they will be here before I move out my army.” said Phoenix, as he looked at the two pointed ear beings.

They looked back to where they came from. The fighter sighed, and the wizard laughed as they walked away.
"I wish we had a War-Priestess with us..." the fighter muttered to his brother. The Wizard laughed harder.
"We never arranged for any form of pickup if we got into any shit. And I don't think that fellow will let us through alive if we tried going through again."
"Can I be of some assistance?" a new voice asked. The Persian, General Stowes, was sitting at a tree.
"What've you heard?" the fighter asked. The Persian laughed this time.
"Nothing I'd care to press into. You need to get back to your city, no?"
They nodded.
"I can get you there, under one condition."
"And that is?"
Stowes stood up and looked at them.
"You have to let me into your city."

The Dominionites watched as the two figure disappeared into the wood. Phoenix hopped down from the tank and looked at Bloodwing. “I’m tried of those fucking surprise.” said Phoenix. “First the attacker then those two.”

“I know what you mean, sir. It is getting old fast.” said Bloodwing. “Orders?

“Patrol the sky around the airfield.” said Phoenix.

“Yes, sir.” said Bloodwing, enters the sky again. Phoenix just walk over to a building that would act as C&C at the time. A run down looking building. What has the Count got himself into with this deal?

THUD!
"Oh, by Lolth's will that was close!"
Bullets whizzed by the truck and ricocheted off the armor as they drove like a bat out of hell. Zekutrin fired back at the Kologkians shooting at them, failing to hit them, and miserably, but it still kept them back.
"This really sucks!" Molorvir shouted.
"Would you rather have walked through this?" Stowes asked. Molorvir didn't say anything. A tank shell nearly missed them.
"Oh, that's it," Molorvir said. He started to cast a spell and launched a fireball out the window at the tank, but the magical spell was weakened in teh sun and it dissapated before hitting them. Molorvir said many unkind words.
"Oh, Jesus!" Stowes shouted, and was barely able to turn the Humvee before crashing into a Technical. Four bright orbs shot from Molorvir's fingertips, which caused the truck to explode.
"Hey, that worked rather well," Stowes said, "Keep doing it."
Molorvir started to cast the magical missiles at the rushing Kologkians as tehy drove through the desert, getting closer and closer to teh Waterfront mountains.

It was still a day's drive, though.