NationStates Jolt Archive

Oh, my offence is rank. It smells to heaven.
It hath the primal eldest curse upon 't,
A brother's murder. Pray can I not.

Silence. That was a tantalizing thing to consider as a long haired brown woman stood in the warm, strong, basking sunlight, her face glittered by the refracting rays as her neck was sore and soft, rubbing it slightly as her back cracked silently in relief. The long edges of the large dark library caught her with interest, as she looked around and perused at her leisure without worry. Outside, clattering of broken war machines dotted the dune sea like black hands of the devil Himself grasping to regain his lost kingdom. She sighed, looking for it once more, her emerald eyes piercing around with discontent. "Where is it?" She asked herself aloud, as a figure rose up behind her.

"Where is what?" It asked - it had a slightly parched, hoarse voice, yet it showed distinct softness in its warmth, a large and gloved white hand touching her shoulder in tenderness and care rather than loving caress. "What are you looking for, Haikara?" He asked.

She turned; a swift sigh came upon her face and her voice. It was a fairly tall, medium built man of impeccable beauty - handsome, to say the very least. He had a silver mat of somewhat short hair that still went down to his bottom edges of his jaw, his bangs tilted slightly to the side as he smiled a beautiful, shimmering smile. Remains of a scar was visible upon his visible neck, a long thin black line like some sort of malicious vein. Nevertheless, he was stunning, gracious, his uniform a sharp, crisp silver suit as it stretched down to his feet like a felt tail of a coat, split at the front to reveal the small shine of a sword. "Brother." She said with respect, and possibly more.

He smiled again, this time wider and much more engagingly warm. "Haikara, what are you doing here so late at this time? It's nearly sundown soon." He said, his hand atop her head, patting it slightly as she closed her eyes in quiet triumph.

"I was looking for my diary." She said, blushing slightly every single time her head came in contact with his hand. "Have you seen it?" She rose in her voice, a sense of urgency audible and clear to the dullest of beings. He shook his head. "Oh well." Tears began to well.

He bent slightly so his face was level with hers, looking deeply into her eyes as he slowly touched her cheek - warm, smooth, soft, full of flesh and radiance. His hand was cold, indifferent, yet a faint sliver of care was evident in the way he softly dried the wells of salty water pouring from her eyes. "You have a bad heart, Haikara. You need your rest. I will do what is in my power to find your diary, and I promise my soul that I will not take a single look into it." He said, as she hugged him tightly in thanks.

"Please do, dearest brother." She said, grabbing a random book from the library. "I'll read this in the meantime."

"Of course." He smiled again, leading her out of the library.

That night the cicadas in her bedroom garden chattered loudly, the nightfall of the sickle silver moon like a ghostly ship gently hallowed through her room. She felt uneasy, not knowing where her precious diary was, so she took upon the tattered black book at her dresser door to ease her already breaking and worried mind. She had a strong sense for lore and literature, ever since she had been raised by her dearest brother. Although she and him were not related, he saw her nothing more than his precious little sister whom he had lost so long ago. In her love for him, she had replied back as such. He cared for her, and did not enjoy her walks upon the garden in the backyards, her eyes scanning across the television screen or her arguing with the servants - they all caused her mind to break bit by bit, her heart to tremble in uncertainty and many blackouts and faints usually began that way for her. Although she was used to it, he was not.

Opening the book, she saw little dust, if not no dust upon its water splattered pages. It was loud, cracking, and none of it was typed up; someone had written it by hand, and judging by the deteriorating quality of their handwriting, it seemed it this person's hand was deathly hurt at the time. Without any other choice, she began, in hopes of finding some interest in such a forgotten opus.

Here lies the true story of the ninth Jenrakian Civil War, and the last Civil War to be brought upon these lands. I was told myself by none other than Suriga to keep all events that were pertaining in this to be a secret, but alas! How can I come to the acceptance of the grievances of my people? How can I face the demons upon which I have been such an instrument of so greatly? So fondly? So, in hopes that I reap not eternal damnation, I will write the truth behind this all, the real reason why the war broke into two brothers of the ancient God Enkur.

I was born in Sentiauhk, a country off the edge of the western Haugrok sea, hundreds of miles from the Jenrakian border. It had the soft smell of misty ocean water rising as you could hear the crash of the waves upon the lighthouse walls. Although refreshing to tourists, those of us who grew upon this mist covered country found it sometimes annoying. I never did. When I moved to Jenrak, I was already seven, and my mother was unimpressed with me, despite my ripe age. She chastised and hated me with incredible loathing, and I believed the Jenrakians had such to do with it. Hence, for scarring my mother's love for me, I hated the Jenrakians and their pagan religion. Until I met Suriga Kataask and Mekumunos Haruim.

It was winter upon the Sandurian borders, when the first splash of snowfall just dribbled and sprinkled down like shattered icing upon a concrete jungle upon the river Kakkus. I, sadly, did not have the time nor the nutrition to enjoy such a vividly gorgeous sight. I sat under the 4th metropolitan train, trying to lit a fire in hopes of keeping myself warm a little longer. It was not longer before Suriga came to be, offering me a house, a place to live, food, and most importantly, love. Although he said that he himself could not give love, the woman beside him did. She had such a beautiful expression. She had a soft smile, her lips thin and slightly white and her hair a soft mahogany shade. She was beautiful, with golden streaks running through her hair. Her name, she told me, was 'Serrin'. She was married to man named Arcarum, and he was the king of Jenrak. I was slightly saddened. Hah, such an impetuous child I was.

I moved in, and the catch was that I train in the art of murder. To lengthen my life, I must take others. I had no qualms about others, I did only what I could to gain the love and respect of Serrin Dreskisk, a woman I had considered to be my real mother, not the terror that had loomed over my life for so long before. When she disappeared after Arcarum's apparent death, I had no other emotion than sadness, and in my disappearance, I sought to find any trace of her, bringing me to a world of demons and monsters and men who were more bloodthirsty than I could have ever hoped to be. I still bear the scars of my first encounter with the Eroivizuun, as horrid as it was.
When I heard Serrin returned, she was not herself - she was different, a woman who went by the name 'Mekumunos Haruim'. Although she could not remember me, and although her mind did not bother to treasure me, her heart did. She felt a certain sense of affinity and pity for me, methinks, for her love was as strong as ever, and for that, I was grateful that my lovely mother did not disappear forever. I would not know what I would have done if she did. Her warmth remained. However, although her memories of me could not survive, her husband did. Arcarum Dreskisk did survive, and he was very much alive and full of wrath. My dearest mother had remarried to Suriga Kataask in her love for him, and I was as happy as ever. I was ecstatic, until it all happened.

Arcarum, in a blinding fit of rage, found it impossible that Haruim should have married her brother in law, calling her 'an incestuous whore'. Nothing hurt me more. I wanted to make the former king suffer like he never had, but it was too late.

2 weeks after Arcarum's filthy and shameful comment on Haruim, the sky lit on fire. Rephalim, a city of 18 million people, disappeared in a single, destructive night. All that was left were the skeletons of a thriving, booming economy, now a silent ghost town. A metropolis of torn spirits still bound to this earth by their hatred for their killer. In the center of this, shifting fallout caused acid rain to blast the Viraigius with poison, and many soon after began to suffer from all a manner of incurable diseases. My dear sister Nekemura amongst them. Although I did not want to admit it, it was what happened. Arcarum Dreskisk had made his move. He wanted his Serrin back. Suriga did not refuse, giving her to Arcarum in hopes that he would stop the horrific bloodshed. But Arcarum wanted more than just a woman. He wanted the head of those who had opposed him, and anyone who lived under Suriga's rule was seen as an enemy.

And so here begins my tale, my story, for it is long, arduous, and full of sorrow. Should you find this, please tell it to the world, tell it for I cannot. I am likely not living in this world anymore, and dead cannot speak the words of the living.

She flipped the page. More drops of dried water were visible. They were tears. The man who had written this book had cried while he recorded the horror around him.

Upon the news, the images of Rephalim flickered onto the screen; a desolate, barren wasteland of wastelands, not a single soul alive whom had once called it home. Suriga stood upon his podium, the remains of tear marks upon his eyes, his teeth clenched as reporters flanked around him. "Today my brother has taken it upon himself to fight me like a coward. And so, I will muster every single piece of military I have in East Jenrak, and I will bring swift retribution against the jackboot of the truncheon of this religious maniac! All nations, please assist me in getting the head of this horrific man. I care not if he is my brother; a murderer is a murderer." He said, a vein throbbing in his head.

Chaos loomed over the horizon. The jackboots of the truncheon marched upon the blackened ashes of Rephalim, the quiet laughter of children a ghostly screech throughout the breaking day. Large, ominous and furious thunderheads loomed like anvils of retribution upon the scenery, the overlooking hills revealing an endless maze of shattered steel and concrete, cars still in their driveways, the shadows of people still walking as the blackened figure of a mother, burnt to an immediate crisp, stilling holding hands with her minuscule child. Laughter, children's laughter, could still be heard eerily throughout the black alleyways, as if they mocking the men that marched onwards. It was wheel of destructive horror, a dark hellhole in the golden dune sea, a giant burning crater on the Earth. 18 million people, gone.

Today, a boy would be going to a movie with his girlfriend, watching as they held hands, her head silently and softly resting on his broad, strong and yet warm shoulder, the lonely man sitting beside them smiling in slightly jealously yet pompous relief. Today, an elderly woman be taking out her trash, complaining about her back as she somewhat playfully shooed the neighbor's dog away from her, her glasses dangling by mini golden shambles. Today, a worker would take a few extra minutes of his break off to finish up a friendly poke game he had played with coworkers during lunch, in hopes of getting enough money from the game so he could buy something for his wife on their twentieth anniversary. However, none it happened today. Only ghosts could partake in such activities now.

The Sadicistra moved in, as the wailing of angry thunderstorms, disgusted at the atrocity, flashed a fork of warning lightning across the sheets with vivid impunity and fury, raining splashing down like a grieving mist in tandem sorrowful silence. Still, the Sadicistra moved on, their fangs bared like rabid wolves, their fingernails nothing more than knives, rifles held carefully as their waists were decorated by a dress of blades. They could not feast upon the corpses that laid here, for they were all too burnt and broken to be good food, so they moved on, obediently, with a beast like hatred. The rain continued, a foggy gray mist developing in the midst before enemy gunfire engulfed the gray darkness in a flash of red and yellow light, blood and fire working in tandem to illuminate the darkness. From the shadows, a childlike figure smashed through a Sadicistra, his sword spraying down in a fountain of blood as he smiled, somewhat in satisfied revenge, another in sheer sadism. Gunfire roared as a spray of black smoke engulfed them in the rain, the water making the gas sticky as the Sadicistra sneered with amusement.

From the rooftops, vanguards prepared their rockets, their javelins readied as they nodded. "Get ready." One said, a man with stark black hair, his eyes squinting carefully. Immediately, fingers of destruction engulfed the once busy streets in chaos, flames splashing through as a trail of fire opened the gates of hell itself. "Get ready again." He said, another soldier reloading his gun as they fired another volley, gunfire spraying in the background as the Sadicistra began to flank around, taking up groups. They were edging to the side of the building, crawling through the many floors to reach them.

"Keep your -" The vanguard began, before a smash of multiple rocket fire collapsed the building they were on, the shifting of the concrete causing them to tip. In the distance, Vizi-turrets pummeled breadth upon breadth of unholy infernos laced in devilish gas, the mist turning a slight pungent yellow as their throats thickened and their eyes began to bleed. "Fall back!" He could hoarsely yell, before fell down dead, his comrades following his ideas, running before their building collapsed, crushing them under tons of steel.

"More flesh to feast upon." The Sadicistra said, their roars in tandem, rushing as their rifles covered them, barely missing the relentless artillery fire from the brutal Vizi-turrets smashing craters into the ground. They paved a way using the watery graves, a bridge of already rotting bodies as the swordsman back off slightly. "New flesh."

"Not mine." Genkon said, slashing forwards as he bent down, a phalanx of gunfire from Haruim supporting him tore through the first ranks before Genkon fell back to the inner lines of his divisions. "Haruim, we'll retreat for now, and set the mines." He said, as Haruim nodded.

APCs smashed through the broken stores, the windows shattering under the spray of misty yellow glass-covered gas, turret gunfire useless against oncoming Temsplace armor, providing a moving wall for the rocket toting behemoths. They opened fire, a stream of destructive fingers etching ever so closely before the dust rose up in excitement, a blossoming shear of flames licked and kicked about merrily in the wake. Four APC shards flung out violently, yet it was of no danger to the heavily armored holy warriors. Behind them, Vizi turret fire still continued.

"How long can we hold until the reinforcements arrive?" Genkon asked, his snipers trying their best to fire from the rooftops amidst the mist covered world, the heat signatures erratic as the other sights were just as useless. Rockets from the choppers flying above were nothing compared to the pounding gunfire from the Temsplace, their rockets able to rip through tanks and shatter ships with little difficulty. "Damn it, we need more time." He said, nodding. "Launch the Seismic Turret." He said, as Haruim frowned.

"That'll kill your snipers." She complained, as Genkon frowned again.

"Damn it, damn those numbers." He said, Lancers firing wildly like laughing tigers as they sprayed gunfire around, slashing apart the retreating infantry with impunity. "We'll fall back for a bit." He said.

Dresden, Thrashia 5 hours after the destruction of Rephalim

Money was something that nearly every man desired and could be used for uncounted things. One of them was for the gaining of information, a job at which the veiled organization of Sector 3 did well. Never using the same source twice, or even spies from the same country twice, it managed to never be traced and more often than not, better informed by several different points of view of a situation.

The situation Sector 3 stumbled across this time however did not require a second source. The pictures sent along in the report told more than any number of contacts could. Their authenticity was undeniable as well. And the one group of people who could do something about, and enjoy getting "mucked in", had already been informed. After all, it wasn't wise to upset a Field Marshal with unsurmountable power.

* * * * *

General Stefan Friedrick (http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b184/Upum/Modern%20Tech%20Thrashia/devilmaycry_dante_nazi.jpg) sat in the fading light of the day upon his balcony, contemplating the reason why he put up with the belligerent, cocky, and outright genius old man who sat in front of him. The reasoning of course escaped him and therefore he forwent continuing to contemplate a way to shut the old man up.

"You know Victor, you are perhaps the most omnipotent impotent man I've ever met," remarked Friedrick, he picked up his tea and took a sip of the warm soothing liquid. The man next him was perhaps in his fifties yet looked as old as Father Time.

The aging, and some would say too wise, chaplain of the 3rd Korp Waffen SV nodded. "Indeed! What is a man but a stupid creature that simply learned to stand upright? Oh wait...yes, there it is! It's the fact that I am the most knowledgeable in a group of the most womanizing military outfit in the empire. Thank god for my celibacy or else I fear I might have turned out into an imbecile. Like some present company."

"You certainly know how to keep a man in fear of god," sighed Friedrick.

"So what's this news I hear?" inquired the curious chaplain. Victor was not a part of the official command structure of Friedrick's staff, thus he was aloud to ask all the interesting and sometimes too smart-assed questions. "Another mucked up place that requires my dear stupid boys to fight in?"

"How easily you mock them yet at the same time care," Friedrick rolled his eyes. "And I'm not telling you anything."

"Why not?"

"Because you'll find out soon enough."

"How soon?"

"God! Your like a curious child!"

"Only a truly wise old man is able to pursue knowledge like that of a child," smiled Victor brightly. "Now tell me. Or else I will force a thousand 'Hail Trivalds' on you. And I believe your about 8 million, five hundred thousand, six hundred and eighty two behind in that-"

"Alright!" Friedrick gave up. "Absolve me of that ridiculous number and I will tell you."

"Good. Done. Now tell."

How did this man ever become a priest thought Friedrick. He sighed again, openly, and drank down the rest of his tea. He considered taking a shot of his vodka flask, but then decided not to. He'd burn his throat out later. He turned his attention to the eagerly waiting chaplain, whose face looked like a young cadet student wanting to know if he'd passed the bar.

"We've received intelligence that a city was entirely destroyed today in a foreign country by its own indigenous ruler. A nuclear one," began Friedrick. The bright look left Victor's face.

"The reports coming in tell us of massive death tolls. In the tens of millions perhaps, its still a bit sketchy. But this attack was started by the ruling king of Jenrak. Have you heard of the place?"

"No...but why did he do it?"

"We think for his wife. It seems he was gone for sometime, thought dead, came back to discover that his wife had married his brother in his absence. The brother naturally at first did not wish to give her up, but now this...we've heard that their divorce papers were signed soon after the bombing and that the younger brother wished for peace. However the king seems to not have slated his lust for blood quite yet," continued Friedrick. "News of Jenrakian troops marching on the ruins of Rephalim has been intercepted by our sources. The younger brother, goes by the name Suriga, has mounted a defence and is presently on the international news broadcast, asking for support and justice at the travesty."

"This is horrible," said Victor. "As if the world has not known enough...and her face sent forth a thousand ships of war upon to retake her. This will not end well."

"No, war never does though I admit I enjoy it," said Friedrick. "Its what I was bred upon, taught, and practice as an occupation. Anyhow, Field Marshal Wittmann has seen fit to active the 3rd Korp with the Emperor's blessing. We're going over to fight for this Suriga fellow."

"How do you do it?" asked Victor, shockingly straightforward, his eyes borrowing into Friedrick's. The general didn't blink.

"I do it because I must."

"What about your soul?"

"I'll let you worry about that Chaplain Victor. In the mean time I will worry about war."

* * * * *

The 3rd Korp of the Waffen SV was made up of three divisions, commanded by General Friedrick, each composed of 20,000 men. Because the korp was on a span of R&R it took about a day before most of the soldiers who had gone off into the cities to return after the public broadcast for marshaling was sent out. Black uniforms were put on, combat jackboots thumped the ground, and weapons were cleaned and checked. The silver lighting "SV" shone brightly upon every collar and helmet. Artillery was taken out of their housing and prepped. Armoured Personnel Carriers were put through tests and checks. Tanks rumbled across their training fields. The sounds and commotion of war played its merry yet foreboding tune.


Secret Message
To: Suriga Kataask
From: Field Marshal Micheal Wittmann

Dear sir,
It has come to the attention of my organization that you're within a desperate plight at this time. News via different yet reliable sources has informed us that your brother the king of Jenrak has inaugurated civil war by destroying one of your cities. Such a reason is enough for me and mine to join you, yet we are also not without the conscious knowledge as to the reason behind such an atrocity. You may count on a korp sized group of my soldiers to come to your aid soon.

Signed,
Micheal Wittmann
Waffen Shutzel Vipers, Commander
Empire of Thrashia

"Excuse me gentlemen," said the secretary.

"Yes?" asked the Four Princes, heads of state for the VDB.

"What we have feared has come. Suriga has come under attack in Jenrak." She then promptly left the room.

"Oh no," said Prince Thomas Vanek. "I knew it wasn't a good idea signing that alliance!"

"Well, we got money out of it," said Prince Daniel Briere. "Getting economic activity always helps." He then turned on the TV monitor in the corner of the room.

"Hello, I'm Bob Sprouse from BTV, reporting to you from our Princial Palace, where the Princes have barricaded themselves in their study room to discuss a new turn of events. Jenrak, a highly volatile country with eight civil wars in the last thirty years, has been split as Arcarum Dreskisk has attacked a city owned by his brother, Suriga Kataask. The Princes, a year earlier, signed an alliance with Mr. Kataask after being assured that Jenrak was safe. The alliance was both military and economical, which is why the Princes should declare war within the hour. You parents out there, prepare to listen to days of news of bloodshed in this new war.

Meanwhile, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows....."

OOC: I read it already.

"Yes, you're right." said Chris Drury.

"I always am," said Ryan Getzlaf. "I'll make the announcement."

"And, we've been sitting here for an hour," said Bob Sprouse. "Oh, no, wait, Prince Ryan Getzlaf is coming out!"

"The Four Princes, after congregating at approximately forty-four minutes past, that the Allied States of Vanek Drury Briere has declared war on Jenrak's Arcarum Arborgard Serptine Dreskisk corporation after their events in attacking his younger brother's city at approximately 4:49 MT. We are in a state of war." He walked off the stairs back into the building.

"Well, there you have it folks," said Bob Sprouse. "We are in a state of war."

Confidential Letter written a couple of hours later-


Dear Suriga Kataask,

We are appalled to hear of the events occuring at 4:49 VDB MT. This is a disgrace. And, we are allianced with you to provide military aid. You will be receiving it this week in the form of a million troops deployed where you ask.

Please Reply,

Signed,

Daniel Briere
Christopher Drury
Thomas Vanek
Ryan Getzlaf

Princes of the VDB

Dear,

Daniel Briere
Christopher Drury
Thomas Vanek
Ryan Getzlaf

These turn of events have caught me off guard. I have spent many long nights trying to find a peaceful solution to stop Arcarum's bloodthirsty rampage, but I have not found a way. So, I have opted for the quickest solution; his death. If you can, please send them over to Haasdra. I will provide escort aircraft to ensure nothing happens. My Mekekrungo will need to brief them on the situation.

From,

Suriga Kataask

- - -

Dear,

Field Marshal Micheal Wittmann

Assistance is greatly appreciated. Perhaps we can accelerate the judgment of this rabid brat of a king before it becomes apocalyptic.

From,

Suriga Kataask

- - -

Although Genkon and Haruim provided significant defense against the incoming Temsplace armies augmented by the vicious Sadicistra, there was little they could do against the overwhelming artillery fire that replaced the cold rain with luminous ash. They fought, for so very long, as I have witnessed, so very long under the yellow flames of doom, a pandemonium ensuing as the Sly'lioth clashed blades against Genkon. He had a soft smile on his face, as if enjoying the fight, yet trying to be humble. Genkon, did not.

I have never seen the hiratsuki in action before. I have heard rumors that Hezhoku Genkon, despite being called an airhead of a man with nothing more than good looks under his belt, was without a doubt a powerful, calculating and cunning fighter. Any man who could wipe out divisions alone with nothing more than a browning machine gun was certainly worthy of my respect; especially when you run out of bullets. But today, I saw a treat indeed - his hiratsuki. Have you ever heard of it, dearest reader? It was a technique of swordsmanship that was rumored to cut through swords, men, shield and cannons alike, as if they were nothing more than cardboard. The line of sight was very narrow, but in a narrow hallway it did more damage than any gun could ever do to a man. Here, I saw, against the brunt and steel raw power of the muscular Sly'lioth the Cultured.

Sly'lioth swung upon his heathen head of frolicking feathers, his fur wracked shoulders pushing up his shield as he fired off a blast of rocket fire at what seemed to be point blank, yet it did nothing more than miss, sending an inferno of a shockwave through the muddy ash fields. Genkon replied with his hiratsuki, an elegance pose where his back was arched, his head bent slightly forwards to brace his spine for the shock of the impact. He charged, stabbing deep into Sly'lioth's shield, yet it could not pierce. Sly'lioth pushed him back, his soldiers firing madly to support their Temsplace lord as Genkon did the unthinkable. He put East Jenrak's military technology to use.

Let me explain; each Menekrungo Vizithkanju is given a special sword - and they carry beacons. Beacons could be deployed automatically to allow a strong link of imagery upon the location, which in turn deploys unmanned aerial vehicles to spray the area in a thick, disgusting liquid. It was highly corrosive, highly volatile and highly toxic. By the the vehicles had come, Genkon had already left. I could not see what became of Sly'lioth, but I did not believe a man who was rumored to be the strongest of the Temsplace would be bested so easily.

At 6:33 PM that night, Rephalim had fallen. The last remains of Suriga's defenses within that city have died.

Ergos was a different story. Suriga was powerful here. Arcarum found it out the hard way. East Jenrakians were all highly advanced and intelligent in comparison to West Jenrakians, and they were supplied well with war tactics as per their education. In Ergos, a man could still walk freely and frolic about the streets without worry. Defended by a complicated grid of police forces and military, Ergos was unbreakable as rocket fire merely bounced off from the many splashed electromagnetic waves flickering about.

Suriga was serious now. He was tired of being pushed around by his elder sibling. He was tired of being given the shit end of the stick in everything; the smaller domain, the lesser respect, the younger age. When people referred to the king of Jenrak, they thought of Arcarum, but Suriga, by law, was the legitimate king. Now, with Haruim under threat, he would no longer allow himself to be pushed to the edge. He made sure of that.

Stealth soldiers, Suriga's own covert ops, quietly ran throughout the night gale, the tall grass flashing slowly as the Temsplace camp chattered slightly. They were as they described; invisible soldiers, seen with incredibly by the naked eye, and although it did not protect them against thermal detectors, not everyone wore one. Especially the already heavily packed Temsplace. They were tall, lithe soldiers who had strong acrobatic and flexible bodies, able to squeeze tightly through corridors and communicated through actions. They were equipped with thermal sensors, and they carried dispensers; small grenade like objects that instead of ejecting chemicals or force, burst the air around them into an outer ring, creating nothing more than a pleasant cold breeze. While at first seemingly useless, it prevented them from being detected in smoky or misty areas. They moved fast.

The commander, a man with long, Sadicistra-like fingers, touched the edge of the metal barricade, tapping it slightly as he nodded, another pulling up as it creaked open, a Siren standing on guard with his rifle cocked. There was nothing, to him. Silence, a blackness or void of sound.

Until, however, he saw a small splinter of light fall carefully upon a floating piece of mud, before he frowned. "Fuck!" He yelled, pulling for his radio as the division Captain stabbed a series of small sharp teeth into his neck, snapping it as he splashed about his entrails with his bare hands. He had used another dispenser to clear the stench of blood from him, and sprayed it vigorously with antitoxin to clear his hand of all trace of blood. If he didn't, the Sadicistra would. They crept back into the night, leaving the Temsplace gate ajar.

In the morning, a Siren captain - a man with somewhat full long hair and beard, walked upon the corpse of the man, seeing the bite marks in his throat as the particular way the body was disemboweled, the long, slender magenta softness of his stomach hanging out as his pelvis was crushed, his intestines left behind by a trail of filthy blood. It was the work of Suriga's stealth soldiers, yet he didn't know that. "Fucking Sadicistra." He cursed. "Jhennex, get me Captain Herkruax. He has a lot to answer for." He said, as a thin, white clad man behind him stood, his face a long, wry sorrowful frown, his eyes opal white and his face thin. He carried fang like dog teeth, and the brown dried blood under his long fingernails gave away his Sadicistra image. The captain frowned.

"Look at what your boys did." He said, pointing to the gruesome corpse, blood still flowing freely as flies began to already nurse their maggots upon it. He grabbed him by the collar, lifting him up. "Keep your beasts in line."

"Don't touch me." The Sadicistra said, slapping it away as the Siren captain drew his fist in a fury, smashing him in the face, before the Sadicistra captain fired off his gun into his foe's left eye. The army marching upon Ergos was falling apart.

Haasdra was without order. Sekai was hard pressed keeping the capital city in order, reading reports, signing papers and sometimes rolling heads when local ringleaders would try to rise up and take a piece of the city. He would not allow any sort of disorder in the capital of the one of the largest religions in the world; the Tsellia. Haasdra had an image to maintain, and he was working damn hard in co-operation with Denise to finish it. Many long nights they spent, trying to figure out how to deal with this, before Denise would remind Sekai that her husband was worrying about her, upon which he shooed her out for her excessive complaining. He was devoid of sleep.

Suriga was serious, he had noticed. Dead serious. The deploy stealth soldiers at Ergos, Suriga wasn't going to let Arcarum go, but then again, why should he? The bastard tried to ransom his younger brother's life and achievements away. After a few years of economic prosperity, Arcarum had to act like a little shit and go ballistic on 18 million people. Rubbing his forehead in stressful contemplation, Sekai rose up. He had a Menekrungo meeting to attend.

Dear Suriga,

Our Commando Force is landing where you ask. They are leaving as I write, for they are always alert to be deployed in minutes. However, the rest of our military will take awhile. Everyone should be deployed in a week if we're ahead of schedule. Also, Daniel Briere, Grande-General Ryan Miller (head of Army and overall operations), General Bartholomew Sykora (Head of the Navy), and Admiral Eric Belanger (head of the Navy) wish to land with their troops and then go to an arranged point for strategizing.

If you have a job for the Commando Force as they land, you will need to talk to Captain Alexander Steen, head of the Commando Force.

Sincerely Yours,

Signed:

Daniel, Ryan Miller and Getzlaf, Chris, Thomas, Alex, Bart, and Eric (OOC: Keep it Short)

Haasdra…the adopted home to the White Temsplace, whom was trying to deal with the mayhem of this civil war the best he could do. He was White Captain, but was a Temsplace at heart and was having a hard time dealing with being under the command of a man, whom is anti-religion. Farkas, a son of royal blood both in his mother‘s lands and his father‘s land, was a crossroad at the time. He used his White Captain rank to gain power throughout the Temspalce ranks, he even started to work with the other Temsplace Lord in start his own church. That’s why his father bought the land on the outer edge of Haasdra.

Throughout the Temspalce ranks, there were only three Lords that held the power and respect of all of the holy warriors. Lord Sly'lioth, Farkas’ first trainer in the arts and ways of a Temsplace, was one of them and through reports that Farkas got in the last hour or so, Lord Sly'lioth was at Rephalim. Lord Authaulus, another one of his trainers, is one of the top Temsplace Lords and also the uncle of the Green Viper, Saerus Darkholme-Annirak, whom was most likely leading his Lancer on the side of Arcarum. And the last Temsplace Lord that the holy warrior said was one of the top was the White Temsplace himself.

Getting up, the White Temsplace (url=http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/FarkasDarkholme.jpg) looked out at the city and questioned himself what the reason was to join with an anti-religion leader. Maybe it was his weakness to the power he would gain, but he hoped this was his down fall. With a large number of Temsplace siding with Arcarum, maybe they will not see him as traitor to the Tsellia. Maybe he wished that his former trainers and lord would give him a chance to show that loyally.

Looking at the clock on the wall, he smiled and placed his sword at his side. He had a Menekrungo meeting to attend. “Lovely…” he said as he left his home in Haasdra.

As Farkas questioned if he was truly on the right side, one of his blood knew he was on the right side. The side of Arcarum, the rightful King of Jenrak. The irony of it, the young man was the King of Jenrak once, but he wasn’t that now. He was a Lancer General, answering only to his father and the other Lancer Generals. Right now, the young man moved out of the ghost city of Rephalim with his hordes of Lancers in tow.

Riding what was classified as the faster Lancer bike as of the age, the Green Viper smiled under his dark green helmet. The rest of his armor matched in color of the helmet, which in it’s own self was a Dominionite design. Through Timber Wolf Incorporated, Saerus (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/SaerusDarkholme-Annirak.jpg) was given his dark green armor after becoming a Lancer General by his grandfather, the man known as the Count. The armor was virtually a set of Transylvanian Body Armor Series I MOD V in a different shell.

The sin light flashed over the dark green paint job on the bike as the Green Viper speeds towards the next target of Arcarum’s war.

Meanwhile some six hours after the destruction of Rephalim…there was a meeting happening in the United Dominion about the matter of the Jenrakian civil war. It was at the United Senate building located in Bucharest, Romania. Almost every seat was filled with a body for this meeting, but six seat were empty in the areas for Habrigberg and Wolfsburg. Those six people were need more in the protectorates then at this meeting. Plus, Chairman Paris already knew their votes on the matter.

“I know that, Baron Longinus!” yelled the Count, raising from his seat in the baloney above the seat of the Chairmen of the United Senate. Some of people stopped themselves form laughing, but the Count couldn’t help it that he was called to this meeting during a photo shoot for his video game ‘The Pirate Lord of the Black Sea.’ So… he was dress in his black long coat with gold assets, under that was black shirt and black pants with gold assets in them. “I know that nuclear weapon was used on Rephalim, but that isn’t something new to people from that region. Use your fucking brain for once in your life, what caused us to gain Habrigberg?” The Caesar was extremely pissed off at this matter, he knew where the United Dominion should stand in this civil war.

He didn’t get an answer and retook his seat. He looked down at Bennet du Paris (http://www.freewebs.com/thetransylvania/Lord%20Paris.JPG) and said “You may carry on.”

“Thank you, milord.” said Lord Paris, whom looked like he came from a opera as he had the playbill in front pocket of his jacket. “We knew why this meeting was called together. To vote on should we join the Jenrakian civil war or sit back and watch the United Dominion’s longest ally destroy itself.”

His eyes scanned the men and women in front of him, all staring at him or above him. He stopped on the red light on the desk of the Regional Governor of Georgia, Baron William Sabertooth (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/WilliamSabertooth.jpg). The red light took the Chairman that somebody had a question.

“Yes, Baron Sabertooth, what is it you want to say?” asked Lord Paris, taking a drink a water.

Raising from his seat, Baron Sabertooth bowed to the Caesar before moving on. [I]“Milord, and the other United senate members, I’m more worried about the civil war moving into Dominion soil as my sons serve Habrigberg as proud soldiers of the United Dominion.” he started, his voice filled with pride. “I fear that if we don’t step in one on side, the war will move into our lands. I think Suriga would want our land for some reason.”

“Like retaking land that his brother gave us.” said the Count, a small smile appeared on his lips.

“Correct.” said Baron Sabertooth retaking his seat.

“Thank you, Baron Sabertooth.” said Lord Paris, scanning the room again.

He stopped at another red light on another desk. It was on the desk of the Lord Governor of Pannonia, the lands known as Hungary, Slovakia, and Slovenia. “Yes, Lord Governor Maximus?” asked Lord Paris.

The Lord Governor (http://img156.echo.cx/img156/335/lobo9zl.jpg), whom was wearing a high dollar suit, only smiled and tip his hat at the Count. They were former enemies after all.

“I say we join this civil war like we have done in the past. Forget what caused the war and aid our ally in their time of need.” said Maximus after he rose from his seat. There was clapping from those whom were for the joining the war. “Hell, we’re Dominionites, war is in our blood.” More clapping followed before it was quieted by the Caesar.

“I think it is time to vote.” said the Chairman. “Raise your hand, if you vote to join the civil war.” Every hand was in the air by the last one entered the air. The Count smiled and rose. “Well, the next thing is to find out whom side we will aid.” He eyed the men and women. “One brother or the other. “

At the end of the voting, it was Arcarum whom beat Suriga by twenty votes. “Then it’s settled. The United Dominion is official moving into the Jenrakian civil war on Arcarum’s side.” said the Count. “This meeting is over, you may go back to whatever you were doing. I‘ll send message to Arcarum and tell him the good news.”

He rose from his chair. “We’ll side with him and kill those whom side with Suriga. I hope that doesn’t mean the death of a member of my family, but I know the boy knows what is right.” said the Count. “Go, go back to your family and don’t tell them anything. Chairman Paris or Sir Daniels will tell the world and the United Dominion later.”

With that, the United Senate was cleared of Lord Governors, Regional Governors, and Senators. Only leaving the Count, Lord Paris, Baron William Bekkener and a few others stayed in the cambers of the United Senate. These men started sending message to the Lord Marshals of the United Dominion about the coming war. The Lords of war looked like they would be need.

Habrigberg Prime, the second largest city of Habrigberg, was nothing more then mountain fortress as it was build into the mountain. It was beautiful medieval looking side that rested on the stone of the mountain. At the center of the city was a large caste, which was known as the Black Castle to the locals in the city and around Habrigberg. The reason behind it was the very dark stone that used to build it.

Duke Sektor Kroenen (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/SektorKroenen.jpg), looked out at his city, his red eyes watching the doings of the city. “Maybe they’ll vote the right way.” he said to himself out loud. “Maybe they will.”

“I hope Cassandra is safe right now.” he adds before taking a seat behind his desk. He looked across as a blue haired man in front of him.

“I think she’ll be okay.” said the blue haired man. He was Caleb Von Doom (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/CalebVonDoom.jpg), the Lord Governor of Habrigberg. “We’ve both dated her and know she can fight for herself.”

“Anyways, is the military ready for a fight?” asked Duke Kroenen, his mind still focused on the health of Cassandra.

“Yes, I just came from a meeting with some of the commanders.” said an older looking man. He was the father of Caleb and the current Lord Marshal of Wolfsburg and Habrigberg, Sir Vladimir Von Doom (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/VladimirVonDoom.jpg). “They’re ready.”

The three men talk to themselves about what this war would do to Jenrak and even what it would do to the United Dominion.

The rotunda had never been more violent, a spittle flying here and there as nothing but furious men in metal armor splashed each other with heated saliva in their heated arguments. 442 men. It was enough to make men mad. Upon them, Denise Territurari, a pretty and cute long haired girl with burgundy hair, one of the chief tacticians for the Advance Sword Police; another, Saerus Annirak, a slightly pale, yet handsome short haired man with a small trickle of black tattoos beneath his neck, a general in the Lancer armies and a devastating Golden Patriarch. Across from the side sat the smiling, plastic grimace of Gengur Ushuimaru, a young man with an eerie aura and an almost guaranteed thirst for blood, beside Gengur sat a horn rimmed, proper and prim looking man with black leather gloves upon his seemingly fragile hands, his hair in a mess; Karakorun Mengiko. There were more, oh so many more.

Upon the two seats, across from each other, Arcarum sat, his head a large silver falcon of a crown with a series of beautiful clashes of stunning silver and gold, his eyes as emerald with fury as the rings on his fingers, his slithering tongue a ruby shade that rivaled his jewel studded shoulders. He rose up, an elegant, dominating figure without challenge, his presence overwhelming and his stance careful. "So, it comes to this, Suriga?" He asked to the man across him.

There, he sat, my great master. Suriga Kataask; a man drenched in bandages, as if he were embalmed alive, slits visible for his eyes, his nostrils, the small clippings that were his ears. His mouth was not visible, yet a darkened spot of dried saliva clearly showed where it was. He sat there, his chin resting upon his hand, as if Arcarum's threatening demeanor bored him. His eyes were vicious, however, beneath that laid back body and exterior there was a strong sense of fury and justice upon his shoulders, and he felt as if he was laid back with a heavy burden. I have never seen such anger from him, yet it would certainly be the least of Suriga's sanity.

Arcarum shook his head. "You dissappoint me, Suriga. To have used such cowardly tactics as to deploy invisible men to cause disruption in my ranks. Fight me head on, coward." Arcarum goaded him, as Authaulus frowned.

Authaulus was a large brute of a man, who despite being so immense, even by Jenrakian standards, carried himself proudly and with flexibility. He had a well chiseled face, yet it was covered by a large contingent of steel and metal. "Arcarum, you were the one who struck Rephalim. 18 million dead, Arcarum. Both of our economies nearly shattered. Do you know the setback it would be for us?" Authaulus said, as Arcarum glared at him.

"I know what worth Rephalim is, and I know its nothing compared to Haasdra's 68 million people and its technological firm. Suriga, relinquish your crown before you face humiliation." Arcarum said, his hand outstretched like some devilish trick. Suriga smiled wickedly.

"Oh? Arcarum, you're too predictable." Suriga said, finally in full swing, preparing himself. "Learn to wage war properly before you bare your fangs. I know of your alliances long ago with the Wolf that lives north and south to us, and I enjoy the company of the Dominionites. However, you fail to understand where you lay. 18 million on your head, Arcarum. 18 fucking million people, without a doubt at least 17 million innocent civilians who had nothing to do with politics. Do you know what news coverage that gets?" He asked, as Arcarum smiled back.

"You think can break me using the media? You can't win against me and the Dominionites, whom either one of us alone can break you easily." He said, his arms folded as if already in victory.

"You fail to understand, Arcarum." Suriga retorted. "The market value for kindness and freedom is high now that dictatorships are running amok. What kindness can you offer in your deranged state? Your cannibalistic sadicistra? Your roughneck Sirens? Hmm?" He rose, as others rose as well in his defense. "A man who hurts his own people is merely eating his own leg to quell his hunger. Arcarum, you are not fit to be a ruler because you do not know how to rule." He said, as Arcarum frowned.

Vijun rose. He was a laidback man, bandaged much like Suriga, though in less spots and his clothes were less proper. "Lord Suriga, Arcarum has a point. You did not take this country's independence. Arcarum did. He had fought for the rebellions, and placed his life on the line many times. We cannot forget that." Karakorun rose, nodding.

"Suriga, I cannot be a part of you when you fail to expand your interests further." He said, Gengur having his hand on his sword, ready to slice Karakorun's neck if he moved. "See? Such is the primitive system you employed."

"You show your true face, Mengiko?" Geriuusk asked, smiling. "To dishonor lord Suriga when he has given us so much. I cannot forgive that."

"Neither can I." Gengur agreed.

"The assembly is falling apart." Ashili said, a long haired red headed woman with golden streaks within her hair, her face calm and distinct, her face fierce and prepared. "We must not stop this order."

"Ashili is right." Suriga spoke. "We must stay disciplined and as one." He said, before Arcarum spat upon the rotunda clock; a symbol of heretical dishonor, and most importantly, abdication from the family. Suriga was shocked, the surprise lining his already lined face. "Arcarum, you cannot mean..."

"I will rip you from your throne, Suriga." Arcarum said, rising. "Those who follow me, follow me." With that, he walked out. Following, Maiko Vijun, Karakorun Mengiko and Ferruga Orodome walked out, their traitorous backs nothing more than shadows in the blackness of the candlelit encircled rotunda. Suriga's face fell deep into his hands, and it was difficult to discern whether tears or sweat came from his face. Ashili turned to Authaulus.

"Why didn't you leave? Isn't Arcarum the high priest of Tsellia?" Ashili asked, as Authaulus shook his head.

"Although Lord Suriga isn't a practitioner of the Tsellia, the Temsplace funding has never been higher. Despite not believing in Enkur, Suriga increased the Temsplace funding in hopes of spreading the Jenrakian culture, and for that, I am grateful that he would endorse the Temsplace with his own money when he had no need to." Authaulus said appreciatively. "Arcarum preached, but he did not back up his promises."

"I'm staying because Suriga brought me back from the dead. Tezekilth told me that Suriga wanted me back alive because he could not see my wife hurt any more." Saerus said, smiling. "I got released from that eternal damnation, and so I will protect the man who gave me my life and happiness back. What about you, Ashili?" He asked, as Ashili looked up at the open, starry glass sky.

"He saved my ass countless times during the second, third and fourth civil war. Arcarum only sat safely in his bunker, commanding from afar, but I felt a connection with you, my Lord, since you had put your life on the line for mine." She said, smiling brightly, as Denise chuckled. "What's so funny?"

"It's just, we all owe our Lord something, don't we?." She said, looking up at the hollow form of Suriga Kataask, who was now obviously stressed, bent over in concentration, trying to figure out what to do. "I will defend East Jenrak with my life. No one will make me think otherwise."

"Of course." Gengur said, rising up. "Those with loyalty to Lord Suriga, us, the Mekerungo Vizithkanju, will follow him unto hell and beyond." Genkon and Geriuusk nodded, as Sekai smiled slightly. "We will do what we can to rectify this error, or at worst, delete it."

"Thank you." Suriga to them all. "Thank you so much." He tried to smile, but couldn't. Somewhere, Arcarum was fielding his armies, and they were marching. Fast.

Dear,
Daniel, Ryan Miller and Getzlaf, Chris, Thomas, Alex, Bart, and Eric

Please send your forces to the castle of the Necromarnen. They will be given their briefing there.

Signed,
Ishidun Geriuusk, 3rd Menekrungo Vizithkanju

Outside, a slightly melancholic man stood with his hands in his pockets, a song playing in his head, his head thumping slightly to the rhythm as he waited for the VDB commandos to arrive.

If anyone could motivate the Supply & Support Commissariat enough to make it possible to transfer three entire divisions, their equipment, and their support apparatus all within and at the same time, it would be Lord Sturm (http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b184/Upum/Modern%20Tech%20Thrashia/Blacksash_Knight_Marius.jpg), the Emperor's Hand, a Knight of the Empire, the one of a select few of an elite warrior cadre drawn from the imperial line. A man who could inspire either fear of valor with a mere short word and carefully drawn stare. General Friedrick had to hand it to the man, he was a motivator for sure. Within only a day after the 3rd Korp had mustered the 8th Transport Air Fleet had been entirely activated and put to his use. Thanks in part to Sturm's implacable will and to the preparedness of the air fleets crews, several hundred 'Yarglov' Jumbo High Altitude Transport Planes (http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b184/Upum/Modern%20Tech%20Thrashia/Polar_Giant__by_vlda.jpg) had been prepped and all of the 3rd Korps men and equipment stowed onboard.

To some the deployment was a feat of near magical proportions. To Field Marshal Wittmann it was simply a "feat that is a requirement of my patience in regards to the Supply Commissariat". Before he'd boarded his own Yarglov for the flight the field marshal had suddenly appeared in his staff car beside Friedrick.

The engines roared like the belch of some titanic giant. For a moment Friedrick couldn't hear a word his superior was saying. "-and I want you to be sure of that," said Field Marshal Wittmann (http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b184/Upum/Modern%20Tech%20Thrashia/0083_23.jpg).

"What was that sir?" Friedrick shouted over the torrent of sound.

"I said," Wittmann shouted back, "Don't get yourself shot. I don't want to lose any of my korp commanders. Its in your contract that I have to care about that sort of thing."

Friedrick smiled. "Of course you know sir," he shouted in reply, "that my contract has been invalid for a few years now."

"I know, its just for form. Bloody damned jets are loud."

"Well sir," Yaglov transports were taking off on the different strips now. "I believe its time I have to go. I'll be sure to write home and tell you about the weather."

Wittmann nodded. "If you need more support, be sure to run it in fast. I don't know if I can get this type of massed and quick response as we are doing right now my friend, but be assured that you won't be left to die if it comes to that extreme."

"You forget sir, we're the Waffen SV, we're use to being outnumbered and alone."

"Right, I'll keep that in mind for your epithet."

Major General Stefan Friedrick snapped his black boot's heels together and saluted his commanding officer. His slight smile remained on his face, but it was a grim one; the face he reserved for the start of operations. Field Marshal Wittmann returned the salute just as smartly. "Trivold keep your safe and speed you."

"You too sir," replied Friedrick. He turned and climbed up into the belly of the massive transport that towered over him. The Yarglov's engines roared to a higher pitch and outside a small view port Friedrick saw that the field marshal kept his position, prepared to watch his men leave their native soil.

Beside Friedrick, strapped in with every seat belt available in the general vicinity of his seat, sat Chaplain Victor. The older man sniffed the pressurizing air and wiggled his nose in slight discomfort. He noticed Friedrick's look and shrugged. "I never liked flying much."

"We've got about seven hours of it," smiled Friedrick.

"Good, thats just long enough the regale you of the time I went to Evensbrook and met this pretty las..."

"Please priest," sighed Lord Sturm, who sat on the other side of Victor, "try to keep your tongue tight between your teeth for the first few hours. I'd like to enjoy some sleep if possible."

Landing area outside Azuk City | 2 days 8 hours after Rephalim's fall

Most pilots preferred to land on "hard, nice tarmack" or "anything flat and without lethal projectiles coming from everywhere". In case of the 8th Air Fleet, they were given the latter. The area southeast of the East Jenrakian city of Azuk was the most promising spot at which to land, and after a short radio conversation with Suriga's nearest commanding officer it was decided it would work.

Within two hours all of the gargantuan planes had landed safely. The flight had gone high above normal plane traffic, allowing the air group to avoid most detection except from perhaps bare sight from planes as high as 14,000 feet, who were below the Yarglovs flying height. The accompanying flight of Razorback Fighters landed as well, though more than a few were damaged due to unexpected details of terrain.



Friedrick stood as his personal staff worked like a hive of thriving bees around their queen mother, trying to quickly set up a command headquarters. In front of the major general was a table with a map of Jenrak set upon it. It wasn't very accurate, but for the moment it would serve its purpose. Around the table clustered a group of Friedrick's officers. His three division commanders: General Heidrich, General Muller, General Horren; their brigade commanders; and Colonel Steele, commander of the 28th Air Group (the 3rd korps support air force group), and last but not least: Lord Sturm.

Noise from outside the enclosed tent area was like a thunderstorm as the 8th Air Group began to fly off in small groups, their cargo disgorged onto the Jenrakian plains. "As you know," Friedrick spoke above the hub-bub, "we're in Jenrak. From what intelligence we've garnered, forces belonging to Arcarum have taken the ruins of what was once Rephalim. Thats at a long distance from us at present. So for the moment we have no enemy in the vicinity."

"What about terrain between us? What of Azuk?" asked General Heidrich, commander of the 7th Panzer Division. "Do we have details on it?"

"Not as yet," answered Friedrick, he frowned. "But we're working on getting into contact directly with either Lord Suriga or one of his generals to get that information."

"Supply lines?" questioned General Muller.

"We're going to carve up the land here into an air field, for both Colonel Steele's air craft and for our own Yarglov transports. The field marshal has promised that the Supply Commissariat will fly weekly with enough supplies to keep us in business...though we know that old story," replied Friedrick with a humorous smile. The officers smile, with the exception of Sturm.

"What are we to do at present then?" asked General Horren.

"Set up a base camp here," said Friedrick, pointing on the map at their present location. "We'll also be sending you, General Muller into the city asap. It will most likely be the place where we meet the enemy."

"Let us hope they like surprises," smirked General Horren.

"We brought plenty along," added Colonel Steele. "Even gift baskets...filled with napalm."

Senate Building, South Passage
Illesia
Alversia

The Foreign Minister scribbled impatiently at the wad of paper sitting on his desk. He had a lot of paperwork to clear and so he wrote like mad, not even pausing to listen to the River Iddius as it trickled below his office or to see the people commutting to work in the marble and glass buidlings. He was busy in his own little world and god help any sod who attempted to disturb him.

A small knock on the panelled door. Minister ignored it, hoping against hope that the visiter would just go away and leave him be. It hadn't been the Minister's social skills that had seen him promoted to highest levels of government, but his remarkable ability to sense when Alversian Troops should be deployed and when a peaceful end would be more advantageous.

Another knock, this time louder. "Enter!" the Minister said gruffly and threw his pen down. The young Under-Secratary walked into a room of oak panelling and ancient photos of long dead heroes sitting on the walls. He also the large Minister behind an even larger desk and cautiously moved towards it. "Well?" the Minister barked impatiently.

"Sir, this memo came through from Marshall Cavourna at Burgenstaff..." the Minister acknowledged grudgingly, Burgenstaff was the Army's headquarters in Illesia"...he thought you might like to see this" the Secratary handed the letter to the Minister and waited for a few moments for him to digest the information. He finally spoke, slowly and thoughtfully "So Suriga of Jenrak has been attacked?" the Secratary nodded "Yes, Sir it would appear so"
"By Whom?"
"His Brother"
The Minister let out a little groan, Civil Wars were always grim "thank you, John" He watched the relieved man back out and shut the door silently behind him.

The Minister thought for a moment before picking up the phone "Get me Marshall Cavourna, Burgenstaff" he waited "Alex? What's all this about a Civil war in Jenrak?"
"Ah yes" the voice at the other end was crisp and belonged to the youngest Field Marshall in Alversian history "It would appear the brothers have fallen out"
"Evidently, what is the currant situation?"
Cavourna paused and the Minister could hear him flicking through papers. He could also hear a faint low runble of a tank down the phone. It was drowned out by Cavourna "Here we are!" he said triumphantly "this is the update we recieved:

This morning a few hours ago, Rephalim, an Jenrakian City was destroyed in an apparently unprovoked attack by forces loyal to Arcarum. Casualties are estimated to be around 18 million..." The Minister swore "...and the area is now under his control. Several countries have declared support for Suriga and are moving to reinforce him"

"Begin a build-up" was the Minister said before he put the phone down and picked it up again "Charlotte? take down this offical memo and send it to Suriga of Jenrak"...

To: Suriga of Jenrak

The Alversian people are greatly aggrieved and saddened by the devastating
and unprovoked destruction of Rephalim. We know there are no words that
will aid the passing of so many countrymen although we would like you to
know our thoughts and prayers are with you. We would also like to pledge
military support to aid you in the defeat of this most vile and unhonourable
enemy.

Yours Respectfully

Thomas McEnroe
Foreign Minister
Illesia
Alversia

To

Thomas McEnroe
Foreign Minister
Illesia
Alversia

I thank you for your consideration and willingness to help. It would certainly make it much easier for me to repair this issue.

From, Suriga

- - -

Have you ever seen the sunset in Jenrak? It's beautiful, it is. The wafting spires of smoke that climbed from the tall stacks as the pollution, although horrid to say the least, gave off a shining azure shade to the sun as it dipped below our already low horizon. It was a velvet color with a small hint of delicious cherry red around its fiery rim. A large disc of blue, purple and red all in one neat package as its last vestige warmth and heat could be felt at such a sight. I have grown used to it, for I see it everyday now, and it still etches in my mind how beautiful it was. However, this beauty, tonight, hid something horrid.

A black line could be seen slightly above the ground line of the small horizon as I stood outside on my apartment balcony in Azku. A small, tiny, black line in the distance like locusts, before long it turned out it wasn't. It was a stream, a line, a long contingent of fighters and bombers as they rushed past the outer line and let loose hellfire. Arcarum had come to Azku, the source of Suriga's power, and more dangerously, the source of his technology.

Suriga cursed loudly, his curse ringing through the halls of the large Necromarnen. It was a massive castle, built to honor the dead, home to the living, a haunted mansion in its own sense as the presence of eyes followed, the snicker of silent cries and voices as children's tapping feet were heard eerily in the empty rooms. But here, he did not let that bother him; something bothered him much, much more in his wary library. Arcarum had taken another plunge into unreasonable actions. Now, hundreds of bombers and fighters were moving swiftly upon Azku with impunity, without mercy, no qualms of any sort against his fellow man. He stood up, his eyes wandering to the Menekrungo with him.

"Arcarum has once more taken another leap in brutality and insensibility. He is bombing Azku. I don't know how many will die, but deploy the SAM missiles." He sighed, Haruim standing up. "What is it?" He asked gently, yet behind his soft voice there was an obvious stressful tone trapped dangerously beneath it. She said nothing, merely walking over to his side as she hugged him tightly, his teeth clenched in sorrow and pain. "Thank you." He said silently, his arms wrapping around her, the sunlight blazing through with beauty as the shimmering glitter shined.

Genkon smiled, and so did Geriuusk. Gengur was nowhere to be found.

In Sanduras, Viraranaar frowned, reading from his inventory as his aides rose to assist him. He was getting old; too old for this occupation - he could not continued any more. "What's the diagnosis on him?" Viraranaar asked, as the aides nodded. "Another branch?" He said, a wide smile breaking on his bare and beardless face. Although he looked young, he wasn't - inside, he was a shriveled old man, breaking apart. His face was wrapped in a careful black mask, preserving what little youth he carried now, his hand weakly wrapped around his staff.

"Damn you, Arcarum. What has gotten into you?" He said, sighing, looking out the snowy windows. Sanduras bustled about, uncaring nor pondering about the conditions of their Jenrakian brothers to the south. They were relishing, quite evilly, in the deaths of so many Tsellian, and yet Viraranaar felt a strong disgust within their attitudes. If he could, he would mobilize, but he couldn't. "Arcarum Dreskisk, formerly Arborgard Serptine." Viraranaar croaked, the windows still cluttered with silver frost, the breeze of the winter chill fresh and beautiful, shining with utmost elegance. It fit him nicely.

In Ouridna, Arcarum sat silently, thinking over his actions. Was it right? Was it truly a good thing to do this? He asked, contemplating as the voice behind him smiled, a small series of beads were juggled slightly around in his hands. "Tell me, Ahkariel." Arcarum said, croaking in pain and silent sorrow. "What good does massacring my own people do? What benefit does it give me? I don't want to hurt Haruim, or my brother Suriga, but why must I keep up this facade?" He asked, his tears falling down like opal stones onto the soft marble floor within his cold and soulless bunker. "Will this really make Jenrak a better place? Killing?" He asked, his face slowly contorting, his muscles fighting off the urge to burst into tears. "I killed them. All of them." He said, trying to stay proper, prim, disciplined, yet the rush of sorrow was overwhelming. He burst.

"Don't worry." Ahkariel said. "There are sacrifices in the world all the time, and this one sacrifice will be needed to rid the world of the unsavory. Do you understand, Arcarum?" Ahkariel said, his hand on his shoulder, his right hand still fiddling with the small black marbles in his hand. "This has to be done."

"I don't want to do it." Arcarum complained, his chest gripped tightly in his sorrow. "It hurts, Ahkariel. It hurts, with nothing to quell its pain, and my heart shatters and breaks." He spoke coarsely, softly, his burns simmering and flaring up in devastating heat. "I can't handle this kind of deception. I can't." He said, before Ahkariel tightened his grip on his shoulder.

"You need to bear it, Arcarum." He said, silently. "You need to bear the weight of your sins, your sorrow, and your faith, and in the end you will be what you want to be - the man who saved your people. This is for Haruim, for Suriga, for Viraranaar and Ashili and Saerus. Don't end up in the bottom of a hole, Arcarum. Don't run, don't hide, but face your fears and your pains. Do what must be done." A soft pat followed, before Arcarum gripped his knees in sorrow, tears falling down softly like a tiny storm of torment.

"F-Fine." Arcarum confided, trying to get a grip on himself. "Then I'll have to get rid of Azku. Get the ICBMs ready." He frowned.

Azku, a city of technology, was in its sights. 67 million innocent civilians.

Dear,
Daniel, Ryan Miller and Getzlaf, Chris, Thomas, Alex, Bart, and Eric

Please send your forces to the castle of the Necromarnen. They will be given their briefing there.

Signed,
Ishidun Geriuusk, 3rd Menekrungo Vizithkanju

OOC: Need to make my people who sign even shorter.


IC:

Captain Alexander Steen arrived at the castle along with his commandos. "Pitch up tents!" he said to them. "Be ready to move." He noticed a man standing there listening to music. "Hello," he said. "Are you my welcoming delegation?"

Miriana nodded. "You could say that." He spoke, looking up at the wandering sky. "It's a bit of a hassle for me to come here in person, however." He held out his hand. "My name is Miriana Treyuko, leader of the Genkon, a group within Lord Suriga's elite strike teams."

To
Thomas McEnroe
Foreign Minister
Illesia
Alversia

I thank you for your consideration and willingness to help. It would certainly
make it much easier for me to repair this issue.

From, Suriga

Senate Building, South Passage
Illesia
Alversia

Minister McEnroe read the memo as it appeared from Suriga and was instantly on the phone to Cavourna, "I'm sending you his rely now" He watched as the paper buzzed into the Fax Machine. He waited patiently, noticing that two doves were nestling in the window box outside his office. He waited for another few moments before Cavourna's voice returned "I'm back"

"What can you send?" he asked tensly and listened as Cavourna gave him the basic details, his hand rushing across the paper on his desk in a crummy and basic shorthand. After a while he made his thanks and hung up.

He had permission from Suriga to deploy, he had the assurances from Cavourna that they could deploy. All he needed was to convince the Prime Minister.

The meeting at the rotunda didn’t only have Jenrakian there. Farkas was there, standing with the Menekrungo Vizithkanju, but his eye were disturbed as the lost of sleep he had got. He was still question why he stood with the Menekrungo Vizithkanju and not joining Arcarum like he just saw Maiko Vijun, Karakorun Mengiko and Ferruga Orodome do. He was quiet, but his face stood everything.

Prince Edward Darkholme (http://www.freewebs.com/thetransylvania/Edward%20Darkholme.JPG), his father, show the mayhem his son was in. He looked into his eyes, but didn’t try to change Farkas to one side or the other.

“This is nuts…” he said finally. “There shouldn’t be a war. Well…not over nonsense like this.” He ran his hands threw his hair and looked at Farkas. “Look at my son, he looks like he about to blow as maybe he thinks he joining the Menekrungo Vizithkanju wasn’t the right thing.”

Farkas eyed his father, but didn’t say a single thing. “I know my wife knows this, but I’ll tell the rest of you here. I’m going to back whatever my father does in this war.: said Edward, looking more at Suriga then anybody else. “I know we’re joining this war even without knowing the vote of the United Senate. Dominionites have almost been in ever war that Jenrakians have been in. Whatever side the United Dominion picks, I’ll back up my Dominionites.”

That statement wasn’t good for Suriga to hear. If the vote goes against Suriga, he will be screwed in this war. “Now, I have to go to Habrigberg Prime and mean with some people.” he turned to Ashili and kissed her with almost passion he had. “Keep yourself safe.” he whispered in her ear before leaving the Necromarnen to head to Dominionite soil.

Princess Selene (http://www.freewebs.com/thetransylvania/Selene%20Darkholme.JPG), whom was seating in her husband‘s, Saerus, lap, only watched her brother leave. Maybe the last time Suriga would see him as an ally. “I do thank Lord Suriga for bring my dear husband back, but I’m like my brother as this is war is nonsense. It’s hurting my empire.” she said, playing with Saerus’ hair. “My own son is fighting against you. I have even taken in my hands to get Cassandra out of here. I can place her life on the line in this foolish war.”

“I’m close to pulling all funds that my empire given to the Jenrakian Government until this war is over. I’m not making money when this shit is going on.” she said, putting her foot down in this matter. “I don’t have power of my son and y’all know how he acts. There will be many lives lost in this war and none of them need to be lost.”

That’s how the meeting end with Farkas still confused in what to do, Edward showing his loyally to the United Dominion, Selene not taking a side and nobody knew what Remy or Akila were up to. A thief and an assassin in the middle of civil war.

Maybe five hours after that meeting, the United Dominion was about to declare where they stood in this civil war. Suriga wouldn’t like it one bit.

Official Statement of the United Dominion

After the voting of the United Senate, it has been voted on that the United Dominion will join into the Jenrakian civil war as the war itself threatens the safety of the Dominionite Protectorate of Wolfsburg and the Dominionite Protectorate of Habrigberg. The Lord Governors of those Dominionite Protectorates have been preparing their forces from a few hours after the fall of Rephalim. It was even voted that the United Dominion will side with Arcarum, even thought the whole war is thought to be a waste of time and live.

As of now, the United Dominion is at war to help her ally in their civil war. The Lord Marshals are now working with the Lord Governors to prepare the safety of the United Dominion.

Signed,
Sir Mason Daniels
The Secretary of Diplomacy

That message came out of Wolfsburg and Habrigberg into Jenrak like a pack of wild dogs. It was flashed on radio, on the television, and even in Dominionite printed newspaper. A bomb as been dropped that would maybe change the outcome of the war. The defensive of Wolfsburg and Habrigberg was even going to be stepped up with more soldiers and rumors of a few more fleets to enter the waters of Wolfsburg.

Maybe thirty seconds after that message appeared on the radar, an heavy encrypted message would arrive in the hands of Arcarum. A short and quick message from the Devil himself. The man whom formed the alliance with Jenrak over some red wine.

Greetings my old friend, you have my support through your civil war. I never like your brother as he is only changing your nation. Forcing me to leave ten bases that you granted me to turn the only great forests into a desert. What was he thinking? Anyways, I’ll need maybe two days and you’ll get my support in action.

Signed,
The Count

Two days later, the White Temsplace was still in the city though, but wasn’t near Suriga or any of the remaining Menekrungo at Suriga’s side. He was standing in front of his Temsplace on the land his father bought to build his church. He stood there watching his holy warriors train, their white cloaks moving in the wind.

“You know, Kyra, my choice could be the death of us.” he said, looking down at his side at a brown haired woman. Her beauty was that of a goddess and no woman had taken the eye of the White Temsplace like Kyra. They were friends, fighters and lovers. A mirror image of what his parents are was what he always thought. “This war could be the death of us all. I’m going to have to face against my own blood in this. I’m going to have to face against my father, but I hope that doesn’t happen.”

“I can’t trust either side in this war. I only can trust in my warriors. In you, in Eddy, in Lizard and in Titan.” he said, gripping his sword’s hilt tightly. “I don’t know how long I can deal with this.”

“Never go to war with yourself.” came out of the mouth of Lobo Bison (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/LoboBison.jpg) as the looked out at the city of Titan. Titan was build around a massive tower, a modern port city and the capital of Wolfsburg. “Why do these Jenrakian do that?” asked the Lord Governor of Wolfsburg, spinning to face the man behind his desk.

“Tell me, old friend, do you know the answer?” asked Lobo again as he took his seat. The person he was talking was Lord Marshal of Wolfsburg and Habrigberg.

“I don’t think I know the answer, but I hope that this is he last civil war.” said Vladimir, taking a sip of some green tea. “I know one thing, this war will be a ground based one. The only problem form the waters is form those whom aid Suriga will get to met the force of the navy and air force.”

“Correct on that, Vlad. The underwater wolf packs have already been sent out into the dark deeps of the oceans.” said Lobo with an impish. “How’s your son handling this?”

“Fine, he knows the outcomes of war.” said Vladimir. “He’s a great leader like me. I’ve cleared the first flight in this civil war before I left Habrigberg. They should be leaving now. We‘re about to strike at East Jenrak.”

And he was right, in one of the mountain airbases, the first flight of bombers were ready to deliver a major blow to East Jenrak. A total of twenty B-73 Ravager stealth bombers (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12065614&postcount=71) was waiting on the snowy runway, which pointed towards Jenrak. Their bomb bays were filled with as much bombs that they could carry. Their target was Azku, ready to add their bombs with their allies.

Their 40 500 lb class bombs and 36 750 lb class bombs were napalm. The Count like a good fire and these twenty bombers would do that. They carried six AIM-120 AMRAAM Slammers to deal with enemy fighters and sixteen Paveway III 2000lb to deal with bunkers.

They were cleared to enter the sky and they did so. One by one, the black birds of prey entered the air and flew towards Azku. Their pilots praying to whomever they worship that their stealth planes were seen until it was too late. They quicky made it to 80,000 ft above the ground and criused toward's thier target.

As the bombers moved, the United Dominion Foreign Legion branches in Habrigberg and Wolfsburg were gearing up along side the United Dominion Armed Froces to defend their soil. These foreigner weren’t born in the United Dominion, but they would death defending it as a Légionnaire.

In Habrigberg, soldiers from the 7th Blood Brothers were joining up with the 8th Soul Dragons and 69th Valkyrie Caesars to travel to the southern border with Jenrak. Even thought that land was under control of Arcarum, there could be a chance that the snake could betray them. The 18th Black Swords moved into Habrigberg Prime to keep the civilians within the city safe, if somebody attacks them. The 35th Black Stars and the 62nd Brave Jaguars moved into Isabel City, the protectorate’s capital, to do the same thing as the 18th Black Swords. The 26th Liger Zeros, the 36th Red Tigers and the 50th Thor’s Destroyers were moved into United Dominion Armed Forces bases to be deployed into Jenrak, if need as peacekeepers.

In Wolfsburg, the branches were doing almost the same thing. The 11th Black Roses, the 21st Wild Hogs and the 56th Steel Lords were moved into Titan. The 12th Nightmares, the 38th Enlightenment Inquisitors, and the 64th Crazed Hell-raisers moved towards the border with Jenrak. The rest of the branches, which is the 33rd White Angels, the 41st Horned Riders, the 42nd Athena’s Warriors, the 57th Cannon Tortoises and the 65th Hellboys were deployed to United Dominion Armed Forces’ bases.

And that was just the actions of the Foreign Legion, the armed Forces have already moved into position about a day ago. Soldiers on the borders, soldiers at the bases, soldiers in the cities. The United Dominion was gearing up for war as two fleets, the Royal Throne Fleet and the Fleet of King Jedah, moved out of Dominion waters heading towards Wolfsburg. The United Dominion Navy’s only Aristaqis class trimaran assault dreadnaught was on the way to the battle fleet.

To,
The Count

It is good that such friendships last the test of time. For now it seems that my younger pretentious brother dares to defy my allegations that his interests do not coincide with Jenrak's. I will reclaim this throne, and there will be peace once more. Thank you for your assistance.

Signed,
Arcarum.

Suriga sat silently, playing chess in quiet tandem alongside Geriuusk as they looked carefully. Suriga moved his pawn, Geriuusk moving his knight. Bit by bit, Geriuusk kept taking Suriga's pawns, till all that was left were his main forces. "Arcarum has moved?" He asked, moving his bishop, as Geriuusk smiled.

"The Dominionites have done exactly as you have thought; they betrayed us." Geriuusk said, as Suriga nodded, shrugging slightly. "The Count has expressed some sort of discerning interest in deploying units towards this obviously neutral standpoint from them." Geriuusk smiled, his eyes like fox eyes; clever, deceitful, full of thought and mind. Suriga sighed carefully, taking a rook as Geriuusk showed a look of pleasant and amused surprise.

"It's to be expected." Suriga said, his chin resting upon his head in silence, thinking carefully. "His outwards motivation is the interest of his colonies in Sanduras and Rithman-naar. However, I have already made plans to limit his projection of force." Suriga replied with a sly shiver of icy thoughtfulness in his already cold voice, the sunlight basking into the pillar studded room as the bleak statues of Enkur stood triumphantly.

"What ever do you mean?" Geriuusk asked, though it seemed from his voice he had a gist of the situation.

"They're predictable; political politicians. They do what they believe is right as their guise, but underneath the Dominionite upper echelons are attempting to gain influence with the Jenrakian state through diplomatic nepotism. They hope that by aiding Arcarum and destroying me, they will gain even more influence than before, and their colonies would be safe. On top of that, it's likely that Arcarum will increase his tribute to their assistance as a token of his appreciation. I made plans to not let that happen."

"Oh?"

"I specifically got rid of Therax and Egos because they were strong advocates of a totalitarian religious state. They both had the power to exert such an influence, so they were an obvious threat, also being members of the Eroivizuun. I had to limit the strength of the Dominionites near the Jenrakian borders to prevent further difficulties against their force projection should Arcarum ever launch a war, given that he would be the one who would be receiving their aid. I know the mindset of the Dominionite leader, the Count. He's a strong nepotist, from what I've seen, and so he'll take the alliance treaty as a duty to help Arcarum rather than Jenrak. He wants to stay in favor of the Jenrakians."

"And you have all 50 Claws, don't you?" Geriuusk said, as Suriga nodded, moving his knight, pinning Geriuuk.

"Checkmate." Suriga said, cracking his knuckles. "Yes. Arcarum believes he can beat me in this war, but he's wrong. Very wrong. I know all his military tactics. He will launch a preemptive strike upon Azku to stop me from using my more advanced armies. He will then launch a second strike against my silos in Kharakuru, but he'll forget one distinct thing. He forgot the line of Delidrias. That's a crucial standpoint in this war. The one who controls Delidrias controls Haasdra, and the one who controls Haasdra, controls the war. Sometimes pawns only get in the way, and Arcarum has far too many weak men in his armies to be considered a threat sometimes. It's like fighting a 15 year old child; his tactics are extremely predictable."

"Then, where do you think he'll attack next?"

"He'll go for my industrial parks in Azku to stop my productivity. Then he'll head for my farms, while creating a diversion in attempting to kill my civilians. Little does he know, however, that a police force rarely keeps the people in line. This is where Enkur blesses me. The people are too scared of Enkur to revolt against my legitimate will, so I can divert resources from Azku's police force into its own functioning military. Then, I'll augment it with my own private armies. The Glass Lords." Suriga said, nodding.

Azku had shut down. It was a silent, ghost-like shiver of a town, a tiny slither of darkness. I felt cold, but it was upon the orders of Suriga that the only functioning thing were the SAMs, and that they were. Loud whirring noises were audible, though it did little to warm the chill down my spine. What was my dear Lord Suriga thinking? What went through to the burnt skin beneath this bandages? Was he brilliant? Or was he insane? I did not know. I did know, however, that perhaps Suriga thought differently than most generals. He thought like the common man - his people came first.

They ushered us into government bunkers built for such events, given since Rephalim had fallen, all cities were put under constant emergency watch. Any suspicious sighting was immediately placed under watch, and any enemy forces were treating as a full fledged emergency. It was crowded and difficult, but the police did a great job keeping us in line. East Jenrak had a small population; but it was highly disciplined, developed, put together and networked. Within hours, its 67 million were put underground in safe bunkers deep below the cold earth, the city a silent, quiet desert of darkness. I stood above ground, for I could never get used to the bleakness that were the dark symposiums. There, they came.

The first wall had been broken, without a doubt, but the second wall was different. Since everything within the city was ordered on shutoff save for the ground based military, the city became a group of angry fog armed beekeepers, and above them in the sky laid the hornets' nest. Stealth machines did little to prevent the SAM missiles that were readied. They did not seek the signs of aircraft. It sought out any moving mechanical object with a trace of electronics, firing madly and wildly as the missiles splashed towards their targets with utmost ferocity. This was not some half-assed Jenrakian technology; it was Tsellian Design, and it was damn effective against any aircraft that would dare come against it. Suriga would make sure that the enemy would be grounded, upon which he would begin his war.

Steel fallout littered across the dust covered clouds, the anvil thunderheads billowing as the storms were raging above. Readied at Rephalim, Suriga began his offensive, deploying a monumental 15 Claws to deal with the occupiers in Rephalim. "Silent." Sly'lioth said, seeing the behemoth steel shadows as the mobile factories chugged on relentlessly, tanks rushing out as the Modern Armor sprayed a contingent of missiles to flank the resting Temsplace, all whom fired back. Claw fire saw to the deployment of 78 Vizi Repeaters, blasting against the stationed Vizi Turrets, as the Sirens provided backup fire against the steel walls that they created. From here, Stealth soldiers prepared their spots, their helis flying high up before it drifted slightly, dipping them down below enemy lines as hopper paratroop planes slung them over behind the Temsplace wall. Silent, they were, undetected as they crept, waiting for the supply lines as they let loose a barrage of thirsty blasts of bombs, Repeater blasts still lighting up righteous infernos.

Within Haasdra, Suriga watched the map with his generals. "Where are the most likely avenues of attack?" He asked them.

Denise looked carefully. "They'll strike likely to take all the cities before going for Haasdra. Haasdra is too heavily defended for any sane person to make a move on the city. Haasdra has not been spilled of blood in over two decades. They will not strike here."

"You're right. It's suicide to touch Haasdra." Suriga said, before turning to the thin, wiry images of browning lines. He touched it carefully, as it sprang to life, showing the movements of his armies and Arcarum's as small, tiny 'X's. "Arcarum is going for a feint." He said, as Genkon nodded.

"He plans on striking Ergos as a stepping stone to distract us away from reinforcing Rephalim and then attacking Azku." Ashili saged wisely, the others nodding in approval of her suggestion. "I believe our best course of avenue is this;" With that, she touched a small spot outside of Ergos, circling it. "I will go and deal with the armies myself." She said, standing up as Haruim followed.

"We will deal with the treasonous west Jenrakians." Haruim replied coldly, confidently, without worries as they walked out.

Colonel Steele was the youngest staff officer in the history of the ITAF (Imperial Thrashian Air Force) and was considered to be a genius, all at the age of only 27. He had completed training in half the time it took other air force cadets and performed better than the cadres top students and even instructors. He was honored by the Emperor himself on one occasion for his efforts, given command of the 28th Air Group, a collection of 40 elite Waffen SV fighter pilots.

The clouds caused both by the weather and industrial exhaust fro Azuk was promising and useful. A shroud that hid from view the deadly lithe forms of the Razorback Superiority Fighters (http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b184/Upum/Modern%20Tech%20Thrashia/Razorback_Squadron_by_FoxGirlJade.jpg) of Steele's group.

"All wings report in," Steele's young yet gravelly voice declared over the radio.

"Grave Wingers reporting in," came Lieutenant Zander.

"Hot Shots reporting in," replied Lieutenant Fry.

"Black Spades reporting in," finished Lieutenant Hansel.

The group had taken off less than twenty minutes before from the ad hoc air field that the 3rd korp had created the day before. They took off after radar detected a large group of enemy fighters and bombers taking their tole onto Azuk city. The first wave was unavoidable and couldn't be met in the air, Steele had been forced to let the cities own AA defences do the main work. Only afterwards with General Friedrick's blessing was he aloud to mount up.

"Zander, prioritize bombers. The rest of you, take targets of opportunity at bombers, but concentrate on enemy fighters," ordered Steele. His compressed black hair, matted due to his helmet, turned from side to side as he looked out his cockpit at his wingmates. They nodded and one gave a thumbs-up.

"Time to educate these bad boys on the term of 'death from above'!" cheered Lieutenant Fry, completely breaking regulations and pretense to professionalism that Steele could manage to bring to the unit.


Like evanescent angels of death the fighters barrel rolled from above, burrowing through the clouds scram jets blasting as the angle of decent cause their flames to flare brighter. As the dark smog parted and revealed blue sky and green earth, a massive collection of targets appeared on Steele's targeting acquisition monitor. His eyes told an even more detailed and horrifying story. Bomber planes and fighters in massive numbers were flying in formation towards Azuk.

Given their present position above the enemy plane formations, the Thrashian pilots had the pick of the liter as to what targets to attack first off the bat. Guided missiles launched and 80 bright trails of smoke appeared like striking serpents in the sky. Explosions ripped the sky. As fighters sped past the Razorback's under carriage vulcan mini-guns opened up sending a deluge of lead into bombers and enemy fighters alike.

Azuk City, North Curtain Wall

General Muller stood on a section of Azuk's city walls that was not damaged from the previous bombing. Using his bincos he could watch from afar as the battle began in the sky. Muller's grenadier division had entered the city the day before. The sheer size of it was staggering to the mind. To think that so many people could live in one place was mind blowing. It rivaled the great cities of Thrashia.

Since the city was so massive, the division had spread out along the curtain wall in companies. In reserve was General Heidrich's panzer division. If the enemy attempted to pierce the curtain wall in any area the panzers would concentrate there. Heavy artillery batteries had been set up at high points around the city, giving the Waffen SV units enough covering fire should it be needed.

Muller turned his shaved head to face his adjutant. "Inform the major-general that Colonel Steele has begun the battle."


Major General Friedrick at the moment however was trying his best to argue past some minial officer on Lord Suriga's staff via a land phone in southern Azuk. "Yes I know it may be important to you and that I don't have the proper authorization, I'm not even part of your fething army! My name is Major General Friedrick of the Waffen SV from Thrashia. Just put me in contact with Lord Suriga. Yes now!"

Miriana nodded. "You could say that." He spoke, looking up at the wandering sky. "It's a bit of a hassle for me to come here in person, however." He held out his hand. "My name is Miriana Treyuko, leader of the Genkon, a group within Lord Suriga's elite strike teams."

"Charmed, Miriana," Captain Steen said. "I'm Captain Alexander Steen, or just Alex. I'm head of our commandos-I heard something about a mission on the radio leaving VDB. Is there one?"

Dear Suriga,

Update on the military-one hundred thousand are ready for launch. Where shall all the forces land, along with us? We will wish to meet you along with our one-hundred thousand troops.

Signed,

Daniel, Chris, Ryan, Thomas, Eric, and Bart

Suriga's voice crackled slightly on the phone, a bit of interference yet still quite audible amidst the thunderous roars of aircraft and explosions rocking in the far off background; which, sadly, was not too far off indeed. "This is Suriga." The voice replied. "How may I help?"

Miriana, on the other hand, nodded slightly as he began to put on a series of rubber band-like objects on his wrists. his fingers twitching slightly. "Forgive me for my oddities. I'm still getting use to these things." He said, pointing to not the bands, but his fingers. "Perhaps you have heard of us, perhaps not. The Genkon are the current stage reached in biotechnology and mechanical and biophysical fusion. We rely merely on the kinetic energy of our bodies to sustain the myriad devices running through our bodies. Do not akin us to the Kraven, however. We are not human beings in augmented suits. We are augmented human beings through subversive pathological control. My fingers allow me to record any piece of information and later display it on a computer interface, as well my more distasteful talents, which will be displayed later. In the meantime, please walk with me." He turned, facing towards the open silent, peaceful courtyard, his steps steady and unburdened.

He was a thin man, without the military figure, making it seem like he was born in aristocracy - a sign too often in Jenrakian culture these days. His face was drawn down in a melancholic expression, long thin lines running down his face as if they were makeshift tears. His skin was slightly pale, as if he were sick, and his hair was a shimmering silver white. His clothes did not suit the military either - they were long, formal clothes, his robes ending down split at the bottom as his silver laces shimmered in the sunlight. His hands in his pockets, they were twitching uncontrollably from the jumbling moving mass behind the felt. Slung over his back, like some sort

"It's a beautiful place, isn't it?" He asked, looking at the endless garden; a long, large, beautiful shimmering diamond-like flower bed of lilac, roses and sunflower. Upon them, burgeoning tomatoes ripened quickly in the strong heat, and banana palm trees felt exotic, yet the shifting dusts of the sand made no difference as it crept silently towards them. "Jenrakian civil wars don't last very long, but they are quite destructive. Because we live in a land with limited resources, we cannot take our time waging war patiently. Hence, all actions are done in haste to prevent the enemy from taking advantage of our weakened states. That is why we will need to take things as quickly and as aggressively as possible. My Lord Suriga has a mission for your men. We will providing assistance on this issue as well."

He pulled off his bag, taking out a small notebook as he pressed it delicately, images springing up to life as satellite imagery of the areas around Ergos showed a giant mass of heat outside its borders. "Arcarum has quite the army stationed outside Ergos. We've been able to cause dissent in their ranks for a bit, but we'll need you to defend the city before they strike. I will tell my men to launch chemical missiles at them, upon which I will tell you to fall back to the safety of the city. Is that a reasonable request?"

Senate Offices
Illesia
Alversia

The Prime Minister nodded sadly as McEnroe reeled off the details needed. A bit of background, a little on the proceedings and the numbers that Field Marshall Cavourna promised could be ready within a few days. After a while the Prime Minister spoke "May I see the deplyment sheets myself?" he asked in his quiet, timid voice
"Certainly Sir" McEnroe handed the sheets to the Prime Minister and watched him glance over them

APA Units for Deployment to Jenrak Theatre
1st Parachute Brigade: 1st, 2nd and 3rd Paratroop Regiments = 3,000 men
4th, 7th, 9th and 12th Infantry Divisions = 40,000 men
18th and 21st Armoured Battalions = 800 Tanks, 4000 men


The Prime Minister made a note and asked "What can be deployed first?"
McEnroe had his answer ready "the 1st Parachute Brigade can be deployed within a matter of hours, the rest will take time to assemble"

The Prime Minister stood up "Foreign Minister McEnroe, you have my expressed permission to deploy as soon as humanly possible. I expect good results" he said this as McEnroe closed his door. Once outside McEnroe ran to the nearest Secratary "Get me Burgenstaff! Now!"

Serailia City, Southern Alversia

The noise on the darkened runway was deafening as each C-5 gunned it's engines into life in preparation for the flight ahead. Below was choas as the tankers, towtrucks and other assorted vehicles rushed between the big aircraft to complete their various taks. The C-5 Galaxy had it's ramp down and was taking on a queue of troops, each carrying an M14 Rifle and a rather large pack. They grumbled and swore as they tripped on things, kicked each other by accident or dropped some 'important' equipment such as a lighter or lucky charm. The Alversian flag fluttered gently in the breeze that was generated by the breeze and the engines.

A loud roar was heard then vanished as the escorting F/A-18's flew low over the airfield and then vanished into the distance to turn around. In the tower could be seen various stick figures moving quickly over controls. One of the Galaxy's slowly taxied out to the runway and waited for moment before opening the taps and tearing down the runway. Outside the chainlink fence, various loved ones waved teary goodbyes as their husbands and wives pulled away in the big plane. The pilot sent a message ahead:

"This is AAT-352 requesting permission and advice as where to best land reinforcements of the 1st PB. Over"

Four F/A-18's were accompanying the big plane as it moved towards Jenrak and war...

As the Dominionite stealth bombers, which was codenamed ‘Knocking at Death’s Door’, didn’t arrive with the first wave of Arcarum’s bombers and fighter, but came in with the cover of the second wave. Cruising at their height, they were save from most anti-air guns and SAMs. There was one gun that was known to launch shells at that height, but the pilots and others didn’t think that the East Jenrakian were deploying 120mm ETC rifled EM-assisted flak guns made by the evil Kraven Corporation. Anyways, the pilots armed their bombers and missiles for combat for any foolish pilot that come into their domain at 80,000 feet above the Earth.

Using the cover from their allies, Knocking at Death’s Door began divide into smaller groups of two bombers to drop bombs on different parts of the city. Azuk wasn’t going to be the same after the United Dominion touched it. As the smaller groups moved into Azuk airspace, their pilots could see the ammo and missiles heading toward their allies, but nothing was getting to close to them.

The first four groups dropped their full load on the North Curtain Wall before turning to head back to friendlier airspace. They still were armed with their anti-air missiles and other defensive weapons, if some fool wanted to mess with them.

“Holy Shit!” said Major James Hauser, a young bomber pilot whom family had been part of the Air Forces when it was first form. He was usually surprised, but he caught something strange form the corner of his eye. He was talking about a large number of fighters exiting their hiding place in the industrial exhaust. “All remaining groups, this is Major Hauser, move in on your targets. Those fighter can’t harm us.” he said his radio, sounding like a cocky jackass.

James smiled as his co-pilot dropped their gifts on top of another part of the North Curtain Wall, followed by their ‘wing-man’ bomber. Another group did the same thing, leaving four move groups.

The blonde hair, blue eyes major started turning his bomber to head back to friendlier airspace. But he would get his plane out of there, his luck was running out as lone anti-air missiles came out of nowhere and hit the rear of the bomber. Their ‘wing-man’ bomber was hit a few second later and a huge fire ball filled the air as the bomber was literally blow from the sky.

The major’s bomber flew from the sky, the rear end on fire. He fought to try and regain control, but it was going to happen. The multi-million dollar bomber had enter a deadly death spin, heading only one way and that was towards the ground.

His ears were more focused to his radio then anything. He listened to talk between the other bomber crews, reports that the last of the bombs have been dropped in a part of the industrial area of the city. HE look at his co-pilot and saw what he didn’t want to see. “Knocked out cold. Fuck!” he said as his co-pilot‘s body moved around like a lifeless rag doll.

As the bomber near the ground, James’ only hope to survive these was to escape the burning plane by ejecting himself. He was at the right height to do, but his co-pilot couldn’t eject himself. Taking his hands off of the control, James forces his hand to the eject switch on the co-pilots.

And out exits the co-pilot as he was forced out for the plane. His chair would deploy a parachute, so maybe he would live. Major Hauser, on the other hand, had to do it himself. Forcing him hand to his own eject switch, which as extremely hard because of the death spin, he finally exited the burning plane.

Luck wasn’t on his side as his chair was hit by a piece of his plane. That only screwed up the chair, so he cut himself free and escaped the chair before. Good thing, all pilot’s jumpsuits had a small parachute in them.

After free falling, James escaped the mayhem of his falling bomber and pull the cord to his parachute. Maybe his luck was coming back to him or that’s what he hopped for.

Finally, his feet touch land as he watched his bomber crash a few blocks away. “Shit…I’m in the city.” he said to himself, cutting his parachute off as fast as he could. The black jumpsuit man took off to the nearest cover, his helmet hiding his face and wasn’t worth anything as its HUD was damaged in the hit. Throwing it off to the side, James drew his Burning Fox pistol, which was cambered in .45 ACP, and took off from his landing place.

The helmet rested on the ground, bearing the symbol of the United Dominion, her flag had been painted on the back of it. James didn’t care, he only hoped that his co-pilot had survived.

The White Temsplace soon showed up Suriga’s war room or whatever his generals called their meeting room to see what was up. Through the grape vine, he heard a rumor that the Green Viper was heading towards Azku to pick up where the bombers left off.

Farkas smiled at his mother as he entered, the massive giant of a man in steel armor following him like a puppy. He was Titan, one of Farkas‘ strongest Temsplace.

“Where’s Lord Suriga at?” he asked, but didn’t allow anybody to answer. “I feel wasted in this city as nobody will attack it. They have to be foolish, if they even try.” He placed his hands on the table with the map and smiled, the massive Titan eyeing all those in the room. “I’m going to head to Azku unless somebody think I shouldn’t.” said Farkas, his voice didn’t sound like his normal self. It was more dark, filled with coldness and hatred for some reason.

“So…” he asked, looking around the room.

Miriana, on the other hand, nodded slightly as he began to put on a series of rubber band-like objects on his wrists. his fingers twitching slightly. "Forgive me for my oddities. I'm still getting use to these things." He said, pointing to not the bands, but his fingers. "Perhaps you have heard of us, perhaps not. The Genkon are the current stage reached in biotechnology and mechanical and biophysical fusion. We rely merely on the kinetic energy of our bodies to sustain the myriad devices running through our bodies. Do not akin us to the Kraven, however. We are not human beings in augmented suits. We are augmented human beings through subversive pathological control. My fingers allow me to record any piece of information and later display it on a computer interface, as well my more distasteful talents, which will be displayed later. In the meantime, please walk with me." He turned, facing towards the open silent, peaceful courtyard, his steps steady and unburdened.

"No, I haven't heard of the Genkon. That seems to be a wonderful invention." said Captain Steen as he walked along.

It's a beautiful place, isn't it?" He asked, looking at the endless garden; a long, large, beautiful shimmering diamond-like flower bed of lilac, roses and sunflower. Upon them, burgeoning tomatoes ripened quickly in the strong heat, and banana palm trees felt exotic, yet the shifting dusts of the sand made no difference as it crept silently towards them. "Jenrakian civil wars don't last very long, but they are quite destructive. Because we live in a land with limited resources, we cannot take our time waging war patiently. Hence, all actions are done in haste to prevent the enemy from taking advantage of our weakened states. That is why we will need to take things as quickly and as aggressively as possible. My Lord Suriga has a mission for your men. We will providing assistance on this issue as well."

Steen took in a breath of the fresh air. "Wow," he said. "I've never seen this." It made him want to sit down forever. "This civil war seems to be destructive at any rate. What, two cities razed to the ground already?"

He pulled off his bag, taking out a small notebook as he pressed it delicately, images springing up to life as satellite imagery of the areas around Ergos showed a giant mass of heat outside its borders. "Arcarum has quite the army stationed outside Ergos. We've been able to cause dissent in their ranks for a bit, but we'll need you to defend the city before they strike. I will tell my men to launch chemical missiles at them, upon which I will tell you to fall back to the safety of the city. Is that a reasonable request?"

"It sounds OK," said Captain Steen, looking slightly on edge. "When we enter fall back into the city, will we have reinforcements? If not, it could make defending the city impossible. Unless that's not your goal...." he said. Steen knew many stories of Suriga's trickery. "Well, I suppose our troops from VDB's Army could land there. Yes, it sounds reasonable-I just hope my boys don't become POWs because reinforcements don't arrive quickly enough."

Any foe who fought and had fought against Suriga would know that he was not above using others' technology. His fleets used to be Questerian, his infantry Krejei. His airforce, unlike Arcarum's, was a extremely adept at fighting, and his use of air and ground tactics coincided in attempts to ground his opponent. He was a strong figurehead, and within Azku, his own aircraft were deployed. As the raptors rose into the high points of the stratosphere, it felt a calm quiet above the chaos of the bustling city. Thin, sleek, and swift, they splashed throughout the skies, their missiles readied as they engaged against the forces of Arcarum, keeping the enemy at bay. How inelegant.

"Lord Suriga is at a funeral." Geriuusk spoke, smiling rather oddly, his face still carrying that creepy, plastic grin of his as he spoke to Farkas. "It'll be a bit, but he has left us a mission, Lord Farkas."

I was at Rephalim, did you not know that? Or rather, I saw what happened at Rephalim. It was a beautiful sight to behold, the slither of a tall black stoke of smoke billowing up before you could see nothing more than a white light before a sudden warmth. However, in the ruins, after the fall of Rephalim, I felt saddened. At 8:34 AM on the second strike, a division was struck by a stray repeater shot, sending shrapnel and infernos as far as the eye could see. Amongst the casualties was Mekumunos Haruim, her chest nearly torn apart and her body burnt with utmost efficacy. She was rushed to the medics' truck, and it was the first time I saw Suriga leave Haasdra.

"Don't worry." He said, his eyes closed as to not see her degenerate state, his hands gripping hers tightly in fear, sadness, sorrow, whatever it could be. She smiled, as I watched, her face broken and burnt, a blackness stretching from her neck; oh, she was ever still so beautiful, my dearest motherly Queen Haruim. I loved her so, and I was going to have my soft hands touch the tip of her forehead, but my mind was wracked in difficulty, and I was broken hearted to see Suriga in such pain, Haruim gasping for breath. "Haruim, I'll take care of you." He said again, his rough fingers gently caressing her head, as if not to scar her smooth and beautiful pale silver skin.

"Miss Haruim." I spoke, with a distinct gloom in my voice. "Please, do not die. The crown needs you." I need you. Lord Suriga needs you. What would a world be without Haruim?

She cried slightly, yet only blood dripped from her eyes. "I'm sorry Suriga. I couldn't fulfill my promise. I couldn't bear you a child before my passing." She said, as Suriga gripped her hand a bit tighter, his teeth clenched in frustrated pain. He was trying hard not to cry; hearing Haruim's voice was ever so difficult for him to bear. Tears began to well, and I said to him the words that any man would have said to one who felt the broken shattering wounds of his heart; Cry. Cry as if your sadness had overwhelmed you, and make no worries about your world. Only theirs. Turn their desert of death into a world where the beautiful rain falls. That is what all you must do. Cry.

And so he cried, but not then. At 3:12 AM, Mekumunos Haruim died from shock of blood loss. Her funeral was a silent, cold, quiet one. The azure maiden sky with her golden master the sun bent lowly over our depths, our outside silence, as only a small contingent of people were gathered here. I had to leave early to return to Haasdra, but as I left, I saw nothing more than the slumped shoulders of Lord Suriga. It was then that the madness of Suriga Kataask began.

However, I did not know how quickly this war went out of hand. Nor the spies that lingered within our hollow walls. 7:54 PM later that night, the guards found Gengur Ushuimaru's corpse in the Viraigius, disemboweled with a sword.

"It'll be fine. I will have my men support you in case they make a move. Though Jenrakian toxin technology is leaps and bounds above th rest of the world. It's what sets us apart from the rest; our illnesses and our chemical weaponry. It'll get rid of them quite effectively. As such, you'll need to carry antidotes with you. Simple NBC suits do not protect you against such lethality. As such, your men will be needed to be outfitted with our own. Is that reasonable?" Miriana asked.

"I knew you were coming. I knew that you'd attempt to persuade Viraranaar somehow. By force, if need be." Genkon said, as Vijun's figure rose, his face smiling as his wheel of swords upon his back whirred carefully in bloodthirsty joy. "Why did you join Arcarum, really?" He asked, as Vijun smiled.

"I'll tell you if you can beat me." He offered, his wrist flicking out a blade, as he slashed it forwards, the sword breaking up the ground as Genkon pulledo ut a shotgun, it's barrel sliced neatly in half as Vijun moved quicker than the trigger could be pulled. Genkon moved back, Vijun rushing forwards, dipping his body into the corner of the wall, flashing back with skill and precision as he smiled in his dazed, crazed phase. Vijun swung down, as Genkon unsheathed his sword, blocking it tightly as his sheath shattered, both of them holding carefully as Vijun kneed him in the stomach, sending him flying. Genkon bounced off the wall, lunging back in his stb as Vijun caught it between his knuckles, his other hand unleashing his sword.

"Damn it, Vijun." He said, kicking it away, Vijun charging again as he bent down low, splashing it down upon his head like a flailing whip, the fist smashing against his hilt. "D-Damn it..." Genkon had a giant gaping wound within his stomach now, Vijun smiling.

"Damn it, Sekai. Get over here." Genkon said silently, as Vijun smiled. "This is getting annoying." He complained, pushing the sword back as his blood sprayed out, hitting Vijun. Genkon smiled. "Good."

"Hmm?" Vijun said, tightening his blade.

"You don't know anything about me after you trained me, did you? I was a part of the Genkon experiments in the Elegance Project. Like all Genkon, I have a distinct ability. And that..." He said, as Vijun's skin began to burn and tear, him reeling back as he frowned in disgust and surprise. "...is that my blood is extremely corrosive. And volatile." He said, lighting up a match, gasping for air.

Meanwhile, as Mengiko wandered around Ouridna, Sekai grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to turn around. "It took me a long time to find you, Mengiko." Sekai said, unsheathing his sword as he charged, Mengiko unsheathing quickly to contend. "My Dagashdai will cry." He replied, cutting his own arm slightly to allow a healthy spatter of blood to run down his sword's blade, slashing it as Mengiko's sword began to bend. "Mengiko, your treacherous actions will be fixed." He said briefly, strongly, without qualms or worries.

Mengiko frowned.

Farkas stared coldly over at Geriuusk, maybe his only true ally in all of the White Captains, but that would maybe end soon. “A mission for his pawns, but I’m not one of them.” he said. If nobody was watching him, he knew after hearing that that all eyes would be on him. ”I only serve the throne of Jenrak, not the person on it. I’m not going to hunt down the others down because they changed sides on you know who. I should have left with them…”

“But didn’t think the other side is any better then our side. One good thing about is that he isn’t trying to mess with my religion.” said the White Temsplace. He wasn’t holding anything back from the looks of it. “I got a snake to deal with in Azku, but I’ll be leaving a large number of Temsplaces in Haasdra to keep the throne safe.”

He stood back up and turned his back to whomever, looking at Titan’s steel chest.. “They’ll be under the command of Eddy and Kyra, so don’t think you can order them around because they will not listen.” he said, waiting to see what anybody had to say.

Geriuusk merely chuckled, as he always had. "That's the sixth Menekrungo Vizithkanju for you." He said, smiling widely. "Of course, Lord Farkas. I'll keep in mind that your army is yours, not mine. Mine is quite small, anyways, with little men." He said, looking up at Titan's giant frame. "I could never get him mistaken as one of my men." He joked.

Wait a sec-is Suriga dead?

IC:

The VDB Commandos folded up their tents and boarded their planes for Ergos. While in the plane they had a briefing meeting.

"OK, boys! We're heading to Ergo, Jenrak. Objective-to protect the city from attack from Arcarum's huge army next door. Some Jenrakians will shoot chemical missiles at them. Then we retreat and hopefully our friends from home will arrive. Any questions?"

Not a coin being dropped was heard.

"Then let's go!"

“Yeah…” sighed Farkas “I’m a big barrel of monkeys with power tools.” He smiled, turning his head a little to see Geriuusk somewhat. “Titan’s a rare bread, my friend, I only have one of him. But us, Temsplace, are usually muscle bound warriors.” Turning back to face what was in front of him, still the massive steel plated chest of Titan.

“Don’t get yourself killed out there, you’re fun to have around.” was the last thing the White Temsplace said before walking beside Titan and disappearing into the hallway. The massive steel giant followed behind him.

Meanwhile in Azku, there was only darkness thing that a man in chair could seen. He was slowing coming back to the light. He was out the hold ride to the ground, he didn’t know what happened. His HUD displaying ‘Error’ messages, but he had to make sure he was alright. He didn’t fit any pain, so he hope it was good thing. The son of an African refugee and a Dominionite Navy Admiral, Captain Maximilian Strive Báthory wasn’t a small man and almost was to tall to become a pilot. At full height, he was close to six feet six inches tall.

Running his over his arms, which were muscled but no to the point that his arms had trouble moving side to side, he is didn’t find a single broken bone. He moved on the other parts of his body as the ‘Error’ message flashed in his eyes. Finding that he was other as he didn’t have single broken bone, Maximilian undo the harness that held into the seat and freed himself from the chair’s parachute. He fought his way out until he threw his helmet away. It was useless, cheaper to buy a new one then get that broken thing fixed.

Finally, he found himself standing on a roof top, his shaven head catching the light from the sun. The first look at him, anybody could see that he was a person of mixed races, but he didn’t care about it. He unzipped the jacket part from his black jumpsuit, which can be turned into a two piece suit, and took his pistol out.

“If I get out of here, I’m joining the bloody navy.” said Maximilian as he jumps over the side of the building and lands on a landing on the side of the building. He moved towards the ground before enemy forces moved into the area.

A few hours passed and a large number of helicopters took off out of Haasdra, all dark gray with the symbol of the White Temsplace painted on them. These birds weren’t Jenrakian made, they were made by Elite Arms and given to Farkas for his warriors.

Have you ever seen the Jenrakian July? It's quite a scorching sight. At day, the sun beats down with fiery passion that you could cook your food upon the ground. It was arid and hot, burningly those who touch it with their bare feet or hands. At night, its heat lingered, as steaming and hot as summer days in other countries. The burning sensation was unbearable, being one of the hottest nations on the planet.

Rarely, rain ever fell. When it did, it fell in a giant torrential, engulfing the loosened dunes into muddy quicksand, a vicious flow of brown death that moved ever so slowly like cold lava. You could even see the steam emanating from their surfaces. Those complacent enough to fall into its trap died. Those who were prudent and knew before hand hid as the marching of the sands continued further. It was one of those days, a day where the rain fell with no contest of stopping in sight.

Rephalim was silent. For a small time, in this time, nature forced a temporary armistice of truce between the two sides. It was raining in Rephalim, and it was raining quite heavily. The cobblestone streets were sprayed with flowing quicksand, the concrete highways nearly engulfed by the mass of mahogany destruction. You could hear the crackling of the loosened metal off the broken buildings in the distance, a looming, monstrous noise that screeched heavily and roared with pain.

In Rephalim, Edoqlius sat quietly as he peeled the apple in his hands slowly with a pocket knife, sitting in the ruins of a poorly covered building as the sands already crept up through the windows, sighing as the muddy water dripped onto his trim and clean shoes. "I hate the rain." He complained, as his soldiers with him nodded; they were all Glass Men, stealth soldiers who had waited in the safety of the cavernous building like him as they silently heard the pitter-patter of the storm. There was no lightning, no thunder, no flashes; only a large contingent of ever oncoming rain that kept going and going and going. "Has any of you ever seen Suriga lately?" The Glass Men Commander spoke, his voice raspy and dark, as if he were crying. He was simply parched.

They shook their heads.

"Even for Suriga, secluding himself from the others makes it a bit odd, don't you think?" He said, as they shrugged. "What's he doing?"

Meanwhile, Mengiko swung his blade as Sekai took out his gun, their barrels at their foreheads as Sekai fired, his head bent down at the same time as Mengiko's temple was slashed in the oncoming attack, unable to dodge quickly enough. He groaned in a searing, burning pain, and then rubbed the bloodied mess that was his forehead gently, holding up his pistol as Sekai cut it in half. "Guns don't work here." Sekai said, smashing him in the ribs, sending him reeling back as Mengiko charged forwards, slashing, but he was already tired, and slow.

It didn't take long to defeat Karakorun Mengiko, the weakest of the Menekrungo Vizithkanju, and Sekai stood over him disgusted, frowning, his sword high up before a brigade of firepower from the enemy supporting troops came to his aid. "Lord Mengiko! Are you alright?" They shouted, firing madly and still with precision at Sekai Hamruun, who had already disappeared into the blackness of Ouridna. He would be back.

Vijun tried to grasp his hand together, yet his tendons were tied. Genkon stood there, a blade in his stomach, smiling and laughing evilly. Vijun frowned. "It's explosive as well, huh? My tendons are completely shattered. Hurts like a bitch." He complained, his other hand holding onto his last sword - a long, silver tachi. "Seen it before, haven't you? Passed down to members of the Eroivizuun. The Porcelain Fang."

Genkon frowned this time, no laughter from his blood stained mouth. "Vhraaz'Khaa?" He asked, as Vijun nodded.

He charged nonetheless.

Edoqlius' came to the open channels, trying to get a hold of the commandos headed towards Ergos. "There's be a slight concave in the terrain near the northwest corner. Do not go there. You won't like what you'll find there."

"Inheritance?" Viraranaar asked, as he read apart the papers, looking carefully as his eyes scanned. "Inheritance...huh?" He said again, frowning. "What do you mean by this?" He looked up.

His aide was a fairly short haired man, young and thin, almost too thin, but that was how the youth seemed to prefer it these days. They always wanted thin, no longer a slight build around the belly, nor a pulsating chest, but thin. He didn't really understand them, and he never tried. Nevertheless, he looked up at the sandy haired boy, smile slightly. "Well, it seems like there's some sort of merit to this argument, but I don't understand." He read aloud.

In his hands were the clauses for the selection of the next heir of the Jenrakian throne. It read as such:

Upon crowning, Jenrak will relinquish its hold upon Sanduras. Half of Jenrakian controlled Sanduras upon the northeast passage and beyond shall return to Sanduras as an independent nation under it protective supervision to ensure civil, political and economic stability. The remaining half shall go to the Dominion as a subsidiary of Habrigsburg as a means to further allow increased Dominion watch over former Jenrakian colonies. Charter of Sandurian rights and freedoms under the Clause of C.V.11 will retain itself. Provided are excerpts for the clauses of C.V.11 as will pertain to the Sandurian released states.


All Sandurian provinces will retain their legitimate governing body, and will be further controlled by a Sandurian elected leader of Representatives. Further information will be held at a later conference.
All Military actions committed against the Sandurian states post Sandurian-Jenrakian war shall be paid in front by the Jenrakian state.
Sanduras will be given the option to cut ties with Jenrak.
Corporations within Sanduras will still retain regular standings with Jenrakian businesses.
The Tsellian Corporation will manage all civilian rights, duties and capabilities of speech.
Sandurian police will be in charge of monitoring Sandurian activity within their own vicinity. As such, Jenrak will now pertain to a separate border from Sanduras, and movement of military or police forces in Jenrakian space without permission will be seen as a clause breach and further action will be taken to prevent such an event from occurring again.
All weapons manufactured by the Sandurian states are to be the sole property of the Sandurian states and their clients.
Jenrakian will relinquish its claim for tributaries towards the Sandurian people.
The Jenrakian throne will no longer govern Sanduras.
Jenrakian forces will automatically leave Sanduras. Civilians will remain as to their liking.


Secondly, all states of Rithos and modern Rithman-naar shall be relinquished. All territory controlled by Rithman-naar shall be handed over to the Dominion as a subsidiary and be placed under Dominionite governing. Jenrak will automatically relinquish their hold of Rithman-naar and further Christian city states.

Above rule shall be considered null should Jenrak adopt freedom of religion.

Jenrak will not adopt freedom of religion.

All city states within a 500km radius of Jenrakian waters will still retain their Jenrakian identity. They include:


Nakros Argumn
Nakros Heidhakros
Nakros Nimrun
Nakros Heregakaun
Nakros Ichigun
Nakros Kazakuzu
Nakros Viz'juuqatuar
Nakros Hnagnu
Nakros Khumu
Nakros Theregundo


As such, the following city states will be relinquished and further be given back to their corresponding governing states and national identities as a sign of goodwill and encouraged trust towards the Jenrakian people:


Nakros Eimunn
Nakros Sentiauhk
Nakros Ergos
Nakros Ghraruun
Nakros Ithris
Nakros Oriand
Nakros Lere
Nakros Nakros Khuzunstzu
Nakros Ishizimn
Nakros Buulgan
Nakros Echimen
Nakros Takugashu
Nakros Ishiriun


No tributaries will be demanded upon relinquished territory from further on.

Upon this act, further doctrines regarding the suffering of people(s) or place(s) wherein protected under private or public property and/or people will be regarded as a threat to Jenrakian society. The Jenrakian Tsellian churches will be given a 5.8% increase in religious spending to allow further Temsplace creation, and the Siren class will be demolished to allow the way to turn the Temsplace into the main brunt of the military.

The Jenrakian military will not exceed 10 armies to a count of 10 divisions per army, to a count of 10,000 men per division. This does not include logistical and supply forces. As such, Jenrakian militaries will not exceed 1,000,000 offending units upon peacetime enactment, and upon wartime enactment it will not exceed an additional 10 armies to a count of 2,000,000 per enactment.

Youth(s) aged 16 will be immediately put into mandatory 5 year military service upon graduation and taught basic survival and disciplinary tactics. They will be trained in basic weapon management, survival abilities, guerrilla warfare and basic troop advancement. Pay will be registered at $28.44 per hour upon student wage(s), and advancement towards full-time soldier on a contract of 10 year(s) will be placed at $32.66 per hour. Soldier(s) placed on a 20 year contract will be placed at $45.88 per hour. Higher rankings will be noted, and pay will be adjusted appropriately. Further benefits will now include dental and optical surgery benefits to ensure high performance, as well as government provided lunches and credit to allow on-duty purchases in foreign countries during occupation / diplomatic / reconnaissance missions.

Minimum wage will be put into effect to allow a general overall spending to $6.45 per hour per civilian at the 15 year age mark. Those under 15 years of age will not be covered by the Minimum wage clause.

Police will undergo military training as well. They will be placed within war academies over the next year as further training in the deployment of tactics, use of high powered firearms, diversionary tactics, army formation and military accordance and appropriation with other divisional classes within the Jenrakian military. As such, their pay will increase from $13.66 to $32.76 per hour on a contract-void occupation. Upon a 10 year contract, policemen will be paid $48.21 per hour and on a lifetime contract policemen will be paid $64.98 per hour. Further ranks and expeditionary bonuses will be applied. Tax rates will be exempt within first year of occupation to allow proper income management and usage.

As such, Jenrakian soldiers will be given the roles of the Police, and vice versa at certain intervals to allow complete conglomerations of the two departments. Both will be overseen by a High Matriarch of Red status or above.

The crown will be relinquished as a means of governing. The King will next be further as Miriana Khraa'hazru Treyuko, to allow the formation of a new dynasty. The Jenrakian throne will be a representative power, no longer governing the states, yet the king will still hold his ability to overrule any act, clause or statement allowed within the Jenrakian chart of duties. Provided is the 4th Doctrine as stated by the Jenrakian chart of duties:


The King cannot overrule a military action committed by 6 or more Patriarchs in conglomerative action of Silver Status or higher.
The King cannot overrule a law concerning city states should they are in conductive agreement with the City-State stature Doctrines of CS.66
The King cannot choose a new heir. It must be done by a Silver Tsellian Priest or a Black Tsellian Priest.
Only a member of the Dreskisk or Kataask family may overrule the above law.
The King cannot personally commit torture, pre-meditated murder, and must be Tsellian.
Failure to comply with the above law will result in disciplinary action deemed suitable by the council of 78
The above law is null if the King is of Dreskisk or Kataask lineage.
The King cannot overrule any rules within this Doctrine
Overruled doctrines will be kept in an archive and must be dutifully filled out and kept in a reasonable reference location for further analysis by the council of 78.
The King can overrule colony laws, but not those protected under the Jenrakian laws of colonial independance.
City states are not affected by overrules unless specifically stated otherwise.
The King cannot eject a member of the council of 78 under personal premises.
The King cannot eject or invite a member of a lower caste into a higher caste, or vice versa.
The King cannot marry outside of his caste.
The above rule is null if the King is of Dreskisk or Kataask lineage.
The following families are eligible to the throne without the need for the blessings of a Silver or Black Priest:

House of Serptine
House of Dreskisk
House of Kataask
House of Nirandu
House of Jhrergun (now exempt)
House of Orodome (now exempt)
House of Vijun (now exempt)
House of Gelectriax
House of Therax (now exempt)
House of Treyuko



The House line is followed.


Serptine
Kataask
Dreskisk
Treyuko
Nirandu
Gelectriax


From top to bottom, the most eligible in terms of order in the list of the Jenrakian Noble Houses. Should an heir of the House is deemed improper or breaks a clause within the Jenrakian statures of Proper Aristocratic conduct, they will be immediately ejected and exiled from the throne. As such, under the Proper Aristocratic Conduct Doctrine, Noble Houses cannot go to war for personal reasons.



This stood out to Viraranaar, who, despite was a fairly slow reader, caught this in his eyes. He frowned. "So that's why Miriana is going to king, eh?" He said, smiling slightly, almost in relief. As cold and emotionless the monotonous and melancholic Miriana was, he was a beast in politics. "Makes sense." He said, turning a few extra pages, before he finally saw the list of signatures.

Upon here, 77 signatures were present - all signed by the council of 78, save for Viraranaar himself, who was a member of the Council. Present were also Arcarum's and Suriga's signature. Despite their (quite destructive) tussle, they seem to agree to put Miriana on the throne. It seemed too convenient, but Viraranaar was not in a position to complain.

A copy of the paper was sent to the Count. The Dominion would need to agree to take in Sanduras and Rithman-naar entirely. If Jenrak was to recover, they would need less mouths to feed. The Count would need to sign it, and bring it back.

In the United Dominion, the Count eyed the papers that were send to him from somebody in Jenrak. He knew it wasn’t from his people, but it looked like something big. He read through the words a few times before calling a few people into his office at Castle Von Wolf. These people were part of his cabinet and were already that the huge castle because of the civil war in Jenrak.

After Chairman Paris, Sir Daniels, and Sir Hawke arrived in his office, the Count gave the man quick talking to about what the papers had in them as the they move to each man. Each man knew that Jenrakian civil war didn’t end that long, but what they held in their hands was strange.

Anyways, it was agreed by all of the four men that the Dominion would take in Sanduras and Rithman-naar entirely as part of the current Protectorates or maybe divide the land into more Protectorates of the United Dominion.

So…the Count signed his name and sent it back to whomever. Then took his son in a encored message to hold back all attacks until he was cleared again.

With two down reported bombers and only two ejections seen, the United Dominion was acting like a powerhouse that it should be in this war. They were geared for war with soldiers at the ready. The military leaders scrambling around to make sure anything was going well. News that the two backup fleets were still almost a week away didn’t help anything. Prince Edward was meeting with a few military leader for an upcoming mission lead by him, but was stopped when he was handed message from the Caesar. Dumbfounded in the message in his hands, the Prince of Ice ends the meeting and moves out into the snowy landscape.

Azku, a place were two House of Wolf members would fight, also had two Dominionite bomber pilots looking for a way out or maybe each other. They didn’t know that the Green Viper and his Lancers waited seventy-five miles away from Azku or that the White Temsplace was coming at the city for the other way.

"Lord Suriga! Lord Suriga!" The man cried, his aide, as he rushed through the shallow sunlit halls of the Necromarnen to the tall office at the end, the woodne doors chained shut. Behind it, the smell of rotting food wafted down in deep eddies towards the hallways, as if Suriga did not dispose of his garbage. Smashing it open, the man rushed in. "I have urgent news from the front. Lord Ushuimaru has been k-" Before he could finish, he was shocked.

"What about me?" Gengur asked, smiling, as standing beside him, was even more horrific sight. Suriga Kataask lay there, his body stabbed, blood trickling from his corpse already dried as the mahogany desk was a brown burgundy shade, flakes already peeling off. "My, my. It's so difficult to dispose of a body when you're not trying to let anyone know, aren't you?" Gengur said, smiling evilly as the aide broke down.

He was not dressed in the normal Menekrungo garments; no, he was dressed in a flowing set of black robes, upon which his left arm was void of a sleeve, revealing his thin left frame, the bottom split halfway at the waist to revealing a series of matching black pants. Dangling at his waist, tied by a white cloth, was his sheath. His sword was devoid, as the aide's eyes shifted slowly to the body, seeing the large steel claw of death carved deep into his King's back.

The aide screamed, attracting the attention of Miriana who rushed towards the office with utmost room, his sword bared as Gengur smiled, unphased by the arrival of another. Miriana spoke into his communicator. "All available forces to the central office in the west wing of the Necromarnen, immediately!" He said, looking at the body of Suriga Kataask, slumped over the desk.

"Yo. How have ya been, Mr. Treyuko?" Gengur asked, smiling as Miriana frowned, his left hand atop his sword's hilt, his right at his rifle's handle. "Don't raise your weapons against me; it's unethical. I merely did what I thought was right." He said, smiling again his plastic, evil yet innocent smile.

Miriana, for the first time, lost his composure. "Don't fuck with me!" Miriana said, as the metal objects around him shook and clattered wildly, as if responding to his roar of furious contempt. Gengur smiled.

"How much does it hurt? To have magnetic generators installed in your body? I understand how the use of the machines for the proper direction of minerals into your body, but to have them overload and create fields like these; must be your Kraven heritage, isn't it?" Gengur said, backing off a bit to gain distance.

"Damn you, what did you do?" Miriana said, frowning as Gengur cackled loudly. "Of all the Menekrungo, you were the last one I would expect to betray Suriga."

"Nuclear war must be stopped at all costs." Gengur said, as Miriana came to a dreading realization.

"Gengur, don't tell me..."

"Of course. All along, this whole time, I've had an ally. It's only a matter of time before Jenrak tears itself apart." Gengur smiled, his face still plastic with amusement like some sort of sadistic doll.

Genkon grasped his stomach, blood pouring froth from his lips and his waist, a giant slash mark etched greedily across his stomach. A small sliver of flesh could be seen from beneath his rosy swollen skin, and his once silver uniform was stained in blood. Beneath, the shining armor worn by the Menekrungo Vizithkanju was cut along the fine line of his life. Vijun stood, looking down with righteous amusement, his left hand no a bloodied stump beneath his robes. "I never would have expected you to be one of the Genkosk, Hezhoku Genkon. But you can't beat me. Nobody can." He said, smiling maniacally, raising his sword.

"Sorry." A voice said, as a whiplash of a blade slashed towards Vijun, who dodged as swiftly as it came. "But you're not tasting blood today, Vijun." It said, coming out of the shadows to reveal a smiling, sadistic Ishidun Geriuusk, his sword held parallel to the edge of his shoulder, holding it straight and steady. He smiled, as Vijun chuckled, charging forth before Geriuusk threw a head towards Vijun - the burnt, shocked eyes of Arcarum Dreskisk.

Vijun stopped in surprise, but for that fraction of a second Geriuusk stabbed deep into his body, cutting him apart as his heart still plucked along the finest tips of his sword, blood spraying in a beautiful red rain, pattering slightly as Vijun fell down, his wrist twitching as he tried to get up, yet it was no use. Every time he breathed his last breaths, a spray of blood gushed out on the floor - there was no more oxygen reaching his lungs. It all came out in a bloodied spray.

"Geriuusk. You're..." He began, before his eyes went blank, soulless.

"...a traitor?" Geriuusk finished. "Of course. Why else would I have Arcarum's head?" He said, turning his sights towards Genkon. "Hezhoku Genkon. Very nice of you to come here." He said, before a pair of steely boots clattered upon the marble floor behind him.

"Ishidun Geriuusk." Ferruga said, his eyes furious as his voice showed a distinct blend of anger and distaste. "You have quite some nerve, coming here." He took up his stance, as Geriuusk smiled.

"Do you think you can match my abilities, Ferruga Orodome? Don't fuck with me." Geriuusk laughed; here, there was no happy, jolly, humble Ishidun Geriuusk. Here he was cocky, arrogant, sadistic. His mask of proper capability lost in a sea of torrential hatred. "Leave if you don't want to die."

"You underestimate the Jenrakian sword." Ferruga said, beginning their duel.

Geriuusk laughed loudly, arrogantly, with boisterous, furious and raucous laughter. It wasn't his usual charming and amusing, yet childish laughter, but it was dark. It was horrific, bloodthirsty. It felt as if he laughed with all the demons that cackled at his shoulders. His face no longer was a fox-faced mat of dirty and messy black hair, but rather his eyes were wide open. His irises were thin and small, like marbles upon a opal sea, two jewels that shimmered with disgusting substance. These effigies floated amidst the flesh colored face atop his head, his lips thin yet his smile wide. "The Jenrakian sword? Pathetic. I don't give a fucking shit on fuckers like you." He said. It wasn't his playful, usual voice, but his speech was erratic, broken, crude. Almost as if he were two people.

"Geriuusk, how long have you been doing this? How long has Arcarum been dead?" Ferruga asked, holding his stance.

"Ever since you defected. You never knew? The long hours he spent in the dark office, all alone. The days where nobody would send, the food piling outside the doors, the generals waiting for days on end for his replies upon the communicator. It was all a lie, I guess." Geriuusk said, drawing out his gun, as Ferruga fired first, the gun flying from his hand as Geriuusk slashed forwards, Ferruga swinging back as he was launched onto the wall, Geriuusk smiling.

"Ferruga Orodome. Die!" Geriuusk said, smashing his sword down atop Ferruga's skull, a large gash visible as the back end of his sword was pushed deep into his head, his teeth groaning in pain. Ferruga held tightly, but it was only a matter of time before he let go.

Meanwhile, at the Necromarnen, a legion of Executioners held their stance behind Miriana, his gaze unaverted, looking deep into Gengur's eyes. Gengur smiled back, though his smile was no longer plastic. It was a genuine smile - and it reeked of an evil, negative aura. "Gengur, why are you doing this?"

"I promised Lord Suriga something." Gengur chimed back.

"And what is that?"

"To protect Jenrak." Gengur replied.

"What?!"

"This country is falling into ashes and ruins because of the inner fighting between brotherly bloodline. It's only a matter of time before the Eroivizuun are hunted down and ejected out of Jenrak, but the real problem lies with the administration issues in Jenrak. Suriga controls too little, Arcarum too much. Suriga is too cowardly, Arcarum too bold. There is little one can do other than take away the sources of the disruption entirely. I'm doing this for the best of Jenrak."

"The best for Jenrak? What are you talking about?" Miriana asked.

"Think about it. As long as the Serptine and Kataask bloodlines exist, there will be war. It is a cursed bloodline, with no end of bloodshed in sight. However, there is a slight obstacle in our path."

"Our?"

"My men and I. There are a few friends who are more than willing to see the fall of Jenrak so beautifully, and I be one of them. In the end, I hide my revenge under the words of justice and stability, like Suriga did before him. Like Arcarum did before him. Like Miraclus, like Jerkan, all the way to the Black Blood of Vaaz'ka. I wanted revenge, that's what I really wanted."

"Revenge...?"

"The moment your people touched the beaches of Malaga, you spelled your doom. I made sure of that. I implanted and worked hard to gain the rank I did so that my position would be powerful enough to be close to the Lord of the Jenrakians, the great King of the Silver Crowns. However, I needed assistance. I knew of another, my partner, who was willing to assist me in my endeavors. He too, found it disgusting upon Jenrakians."

Geriuusk stabbed Ferruga.

"Sekai?" Miriana said.

"Of course. Sekai Hamruun has been my ally this whole time. His Krejei pride would not allow your people to have come to his glorious lands, and so I kept a close watch. Under his security, my men could move at will and manipulate the political forces under his curtain. The shields were in place, and it was only a matter of time.

However, something came to me that didn't before. Haruim. She proved to be a dangerous opponent, mostly since she solidified Suriga's power in the Eastern sector. So, how to rid of her? Well, when I found out Arcarum was still alive, and that she herself was Arcarum's former wife, I played upon his pride. I made sure that Arcarum was hurt, and I divulged the information towards him. Only Suriga knew, but because of me, now Arcarum knew. But then, there was a problem. You and your Genkon elite. They were quite a nuisance with their collaborations, and your attempts to make the Menekrungo stronger by teaching them collaboration only increased my frustration at going through with my plans. I had to stop it somehow, and so I found out that Gelectriax left a birth mark upon all those who had his blood. I appealed to his children, and they were willing, a small amount, to disclose information regarding the collaboration. Some of them, thankfully, were part of your very own Genkon, Treyuko.

But, how to initiate the deaths of Suriga Kataask and Arcarum Dreskisk? Replace your Tongues. I was already the installed Tongue for Suriga, but what about Arcarum? What about his Tongue? It seemed he didn't have one, since he always did things himself, a reckless fellow. So I initiated the assassination of Genba Kharahain, his old friend. This caused a withdrawal, and thus Arcarum kept himself away from the world. Only then it was a matter of time to coerce him to start war. Upon, in this confusion, I can continue my original purpose."

"Purpose?"

"I told you. I will fix Jenrak. And to fix something too broken is to make it anew."

"Oh?" Miriana said, frowning. "Then, I will teach you a lesson." He held his hand high, before smashing it down on the ground. For a second, it seemed as if nothing happened, before Gengur chuckled, laughing loudly as if to taunt him.

"What's going to happen? Will spikes come out? Will a mist that burns my skin froth forth? Don't joke with me, Miriana Treyuko. Those are all myths, all foolish - " Before that, his mouth caved in, his teeth smashing together as his jaw locked up tightly. His eyes were swerving about violently, his face contorted in immense discomfort as a paralyzing, painful sensation flowed through his body. He could feel intense heat between his teeth, and his spine was cold as ice before it flared up in a fiery searing notion. After what seemed like an eternity of unbearable pain, his body was released, yet burning with unwanted warmth, his eyes tearing and his muscles on his face unwilling to move, as if he had just gone into a winter chill. He could do nothing as his body fell on the floor, his body convulsing wildly.

"You're new at this, so I'll tell you. The Genkon are the progenitors of the new Jenrakian military. So, you know that we cannot wage war conventionally, but our value per soldier is exponentially higher than other militaries around the world. The reason is because of technology like this." Miriana stood over Gengur's frozen body, his eyes twitching in pain. "Shall I explain?"

"Please do." Gengur craved, wondering what that ability was.

"The concept is simple. The technology is simple. Designing it was difficult. The human body easily uses enough electricity to control the nerves, but we, as imperfect as we are, also discard excess energy that is later broken down into chemical compounds. This excess energy is taken away in our waste. Now, the accumulation of a year's worth of this energy is powerful enough to bridge gaps in electricity to allow a flow, but still not enough to light even a 60 watt light bulb. However, that gap, should it be controlled to direct flow to say, a generator, then I could turn on a tiny shock when I need it. That's the concept." Miriana explained, rolling down his sleeve to reveal a cut up wrist and arm, stitched together skillfully, yet the lines still showed. "It's painful, but over time you get used to it. In other words." He said, his hand touching the steel floor.

Gengur convulsed again. "I can send electrical shocks through conductive material to kill my enemies."

This is getting confusing-i've been away for a week. Actually, it's not. But still.

IC:

The commandos arrived, all 100 of them, in the center of Ergos. "Set up tents and check the defences," whispered Captain Steen, as thought the Jenrakian Army could hear them. "Then, set up 50 men around the tower, and take daylight and night shifts. All we have to do is wait for Arcarum to make the next move." He looked up to the sky, sighing. Hopefully the VDB Army would arrive soon.

Perhaps I was wrong, but the shocking revelation was too much for me. Gengur was a traitor, and he had Sekai Hamruun on his side as well. Five Menekrungo Vizithkanju had defected, it seemed, and more might be on their way. Suriga was already dead - his funeral was never held.

Arcarum, however, seemed to have changed tactics immediately after Suriga's found death. Within 6 hours of Suriga's assassination, the army outside Ergos moved. They prepared their artillery, they prepared their forces, but they waited, upon a command, as if something had held them back. I did not know what held them back, but it seemed to be as if it were something they did not anticipate. I didn't anticipate any of it either. Arcarum, too, was killed.

Both kings upon this game of chess were murdered, leaving both players victorious, both players defeated. I was disgusted.

Outside Ergos, only the shifting dunes made action. The low laying helicopters of the Genkon, a yellowish golden shade to blend in with the sand, remained floating ajar to survey the battlefield shortly. However, as they landed, a thin gale of whirling sandstorms fluttered about with endless effigies high into the sky. It glittered the field, the long windy paths outside Ergos, the scant and broken dirt cobblestone roads baking softly under the heat of the July sun. Too damn hot. It was too damn hot, reaching a scorching fifty-three that day, men drenched under their armor, staying under steaming canopies as they await for orders. Only the battle gave them comfort from this heat, and they awaited it so.

"We'll wait for reinforcements from the VDB Lord Miriana talked about." The Glass Commander spoke, his voice somewhat frigid and cold in spite of this overwhelming heat. He had a stern, discontent face, his eyebrows in a perpetual frown as his mouth dipped down low, aging brackets visible upon the edges of his lips.

The commandos had been at their posts for two days. The army moved, but not to attack. "I wonder why," said Captain Steen. Then a cheer rose from the commandos-look above-C-130 Hercules were landing! The Army of the VDB was here, along with the Air Force!

"Gengur, you dare to challenge me?" Miriana said, raising his sheathed blade as his held his handle tightly. "Dare to challenge the Genkon Dominus?" Gengur only smiled.

"Oh, be careful. I might be the first to see your sword and live." Gengur threatened, his hand still, as if he were a doll; vacant, silent, cold, emotionless. Miriana closed his eyes in a deep sigh-like trance.

"I will make you shiver." Miriana said, as his blade unsheathed - it was beautiful, to say the least, with obvious signs it was meant to be ceremonial. Yet, there was a jagged bloodlust emanating around it from its already burgeoning, shimmering rays. It gave off a chilly feeling, and an icy wind could be felt as it dimpled down small patches of silver fog. Immediately, the carpet beneath it began to freeze in winter's chill.

"Oh? Well, I think I know - " Gengur said, before the blade was stabbed into his left arm, his face surprised as his entire arm came numb. Miriana smirked.

"My sword is merciful. The freezing carbonite disables your body of nerve, but also the sense of touch. Hence, you will feel no pain in this, and you may only suffer the witness of your demise." Miriana said, his handle prepared for frozen blood.

There was nothing; only a blank smile as the corpse fell onto the coldness of the plank-like floor amongst the broken marble. Only a blank smile - Gengur Ushuimaru was never there. Miriana frowned, looking quietly, intently, carefully, his eyes shimmering with interest as his mind flickered and pressed onwards with wondering thought. What was that? A doll? A statue? A decoy? The blood peeled away the makeup to reveal a generic face - a pale, yet thinly fed young man with a small remnant of the soul patch on his chin, his hair a sandy white. A decoy. "Damn it." Miriana said, frowning.

From there, Viraranaar rose up the stairs, his breath huffing wildly. "Miriana, we're taking you from here. Since you're the next King, you're going to have to be safe in the new capital."

"New capital?" Miriana asked.

"Not here. Elsewhere." Viraranaar spoke. "Haasdra will be changed from its position as capital to the old Capital; Mennekron. But first, come. We need to get to safety."

"I cannot simply abandon people here, Viraranaar." Miriana spoke.

"I need you alive; for more than one reason. Come."

And such my flight began.

The VDB military set up posts around the city. Suriga appeared to be nonrespondent, so they just sat there and waited for something to happen.

Was it a feint? Perhaps, perhaps not. But upon 5:23 am, the morning sky lit up on crimson flame. Vizi-turret fire engulfed the pastures outside of Ergos, turning the ground up and about as shockwaves shattered and pummeled with utmost impunity upon the surface of the barely scratched sands. Soldiers marched to their humming positions, the Glass Lords firing carefully as a ripping turret of gunfire laced a silver path upon them. Transports and troop carriers sped across the lands, the turrets atop their steel shells blasting off rounds as it connected, large puffs of smoke rising up wildly into the air.

From the other end, scatter missiles rose high up into the air, breaking apart into hundreds of pieces as they laid inferno hellfire upon the battlefield. It was a dark, bleak, gray world, laid in darkness and blackness, a bleak thunder pounding loudly as the sky was already drenched up in jet black clouds. Night had already fallen upon the thickening smoke as daylight was smothered to death by pollution and gas, the winding war machines chugging along as large scars in the earth were made by the crawling claws. A six minute day, a 23 hour night. It felt too hot still, as the Temsplace on both sides clashed sides against each other, Sirens fighting for both teams.

Across the plains, lancers ripped through the plains, their rocket fire leading off a lesion of golden flame, the clouds gurgling and vomiting raining disgust with their stomachs churning as liquid thunder boiled the sky. Acid rain began to fall, and it was obvious; both sides wanted to eliminate the other before this corrosive downpour came about them, but nature worked too fast, and was the superior strategist of them all.

"Get under!" cried Captain Steele. As many of the people they could fit ran into homes and under walls to protect from the acid rain. "How long is this going to take," he mumbled to himself. "Mobilize everything, the Jenraks are coming!"