NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Okay, here's the deal.
This RP is closed, save those those I have invited, as this will be a Civil War thread, and I have a story in my head.

SO:

This thread is now semi-open. All Greater Prussian nations, and all nations I invite, may participate. To those who are neither, and you feel that you should be involved (not want to, should be), feel free to telegram me stating why you should be involved, and what side you'll take, and I'll consider it.

As of now, the following are the sides, Red being a state of Derscon, black being a state of Prussia, and blue being a non-Prussian state.

Tsarist Forces (Supporting Xavier and the Dersconi Empire)
Verskzheimr
Rueikheimr
Nordrueikheimr
Prußisch-Kiew
Vanheim
Varyagiheimr
Vesigarðr
Gernish

Rebel Forces (Supporting Sablinov/Brune and the Coalition
Kirchenstaat
Slawisch-Sachsen
Greuthungland
KæsÞiöndhrgarðr
Reichskamphen

This thread is directly related to this one (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=505763), and any participation in this thread will be done on the assumption that you've read that one. :)

http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l91/empyreanimperator/Nationstates/DersconiCoatofArmssizeddown.jpg
IMPERIAL DECREE

The Empire, at this time, is in a state of tribulation. Factors internal and external are working to undermine the Divine Authority of the Crown and Empire. Such actions cannot and will not be tolerated.

In recent weeks, a plot to overthrow the Divine Monarchy has been discovered and subsequently terminated (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12913480&postcount=147). The Ring Leaders -- ex Foreign Minister Franz von Papen, and Chairman of the Grand Imperial Council for the Advancement of the Protestant Faith And Heritage, have been arrested, tried, and convicted. Such rebellion from prominent members of society simply reinforces what I have always believed -- that the aristocracy of Derscon has long since been corrupt, and that private organizations that grow too powerful always will go against the will of People and State.

Therefore, effective immediately, the Grand Imperial Council for the Advancement of the Protestant Faith And Heritage shall hereby disband and be declared defunct, and Kirchenstaat, formerly under Grand Imperial Council for the Advancement of the Protestant Faith And Heritage control, shall transfer to military control until the government of Kirchenstaat -- which shall be renamed hereby as "Nordrknavein" -- will be transformed into that of an Imperial Territory.

Also, to ensure the safety and security of the Empire, all Class I militias are to surrender their arsenals to the Crown and disband. Failure to comply will be considered armed rebellion.

So sayeth I.

His Most Eminent Majestic Highness Tsar Xavier Alexeitovich Andropov II, Fedei Defensor, By the Divine Grace of God;
Ambrosial Seraph of the Divine Prussian Empire of Derscon,
Arch-Chancellor of the Greater Prussian Empire,
Leath-Ri of the Redemption Isles,
Veliky Kralj of the Eternal Empire,
Khšaçapavan of the Covanent of God,
Knight Commander and Dragon Master of the IOI,
Gloeihdamae

Military Rule in Slawisch-Sachsen Spark Protests, Riots
Prussian Herald

Friedensburg, Slawisch-Sachsen: A candle-light vigil was held outside the ruins of the destroyed Friedensburg Estate, the residence of the von Papens since the ascendency of Tsar Rekjyavich Ivan Andropov II, two hundred years ago.

Over one hundred thousand people crowded the tiny village of Friedensburg and the Estate to mourn the loss of the von Papen family. Several prominent members of the Dersconi nobility were present, including Count Gottfried von Guderian, Prime Minister of Slawisch-Sachsen, and a long-time friend of the von Papens.

With the arrest of Franz von Papen, the only surviving member of the von Papen family in good legal standing is Katrina von Papen, the grand-daughter of Franz von Papen, now Katrina Antonette, wife of King John Antonette of Cherry Ridge. However, according to the Dersconi Law Code, because of the arrest of Franz von Papen, the entire von Papen Estate was confiscated by the Crown.

The entire vigil participated in a moment of silence when the clock tower struck midnight, producing a very solemn -- and eerie -- atmosphere. Even nature participated in the reflection -- not one bird or cricket sounded the one hundred and sixteen seconds, one second for each year of von Papen's life. When asked why they chose that number, the leader of the vigil, who preferred to remain anonymous, said that "...While the Dersconi Crown did outlaw execution as a form of punishment, we know that with the crimes our beloved Franz was charged with -- and likely charged falsely -- it is not possible that a one hundred and sixteen year old man in ailing health could survive for very long in prison."

However, after the moment of silence, and during the singing of "God Preserve Thy People," Schutzstaffel Shock Troopers, led by General Karaka Rakhamov, moved in and surrounded the vigil, ordering the dispersion of the vigil. When they failed to recognize the General's orders, he ordered tear gas to be fired into the crowds. This action turned the peaceful vigil into a riotous crowd, several thousand of the attendees clashing with the SS Troopers.

General Karaka, upon seeing the fighting, ordered the Shock Troopers to open fire on the crowd. When it was all said and done, twelve hundred vigil attendees were killed, and over two thousand injured. Currently, the village of Friedensburg is being quarantined, due to the mass arrests, with SS forces forming an armed barricade around the village, setting up fences and walls to keep the vigil attendees contained.

Count Gottfried von Guderian, who had to leave the vigil early before the raid due to an emergency session of the Slawisch-Sachsen Parliament, expressed the outrage of the people, and condemned the brutal massacre of the peaceful vigil attendees. A Combined Emergency Session of Parliament has been called to discuss a resolution officially condemning the actions of the SS Troopers and calling for their removal, as well as a formal grievance of the actions and excesses of the Dersconi Crown. Such a formal complaint is unprecedented in the three thousand years of the Dersconi Monarchy, and will likely have far-reaching political repercussions, especially considering Jörmungand II, König von Slawisch-Sachsen, was also labelled as one of the lead conspirators.

The outrage across the nation to the raid on Friedensburg and the subsequent assault is unrivalled in recent history. Over two million people in Greuthungland -- another state who's monarch was convicted as a ring leader -- came out in support of the people of Friedensburg, but was put down with similar strength as the Friedensburg vigil, as Greuthungland is also under military control.

In the South, the border between Reichskamphen and Derscon along Slawisch-Sachsen has been closed down. When asked why, the Dersconi Government claimed it was due to the unrest in Reichskamphen, which was spilling over into Derscon. This was substantiated by the voices of support from the Reichskamphen people, as well as from Ted Stevens, the current protector of New Geneva.

"These voices of support give us hope," he told the Herald. "We feel that these actions, however, are only the beginning of a long and treacherous journey."

http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l91/empyreanimperator/Nationstates/DersconiCoatofArmssizeddown.jpg
DECLARATION OF A STATE OF EMERGENCY

The plagues of unrest and treason are permeating the Empire, and as such, must be stopped before they may take root, and the traitors work to undermine the Crown and Empire.

Because of the dangerous seeds that are being planted, and the tribulations they are causing -- one need only look at the unfounded riots of the past week -- we are left with no choice but to declare a State of Emergency throughout the entire Empire.

This sort of rebellion can not and will not be tolerated by the Empire. All citizens of the Empire are expected to cooperate, in order to allow the problem to be fixed in short time.

His Most Eminent Majestic Highness Tsar Xavier Alexeitovich Andropov II, Fedei Defensor, By the Divine Grace of God;
Ambrosial Seraph of the Divine Prussian Empire of Derscon,
Arch-Chancellor of the Greater Prussian Empire,
Leath-Ri of the Redemption Isles,
Veliky Kralj of the Eternal Empire,
Khšaçapavan of the Covanent of God,
Knight Commander and Dragon Master of the IOI,
Gloeihdamae

Niflheim Castle

"Chancellor Sablinov, they're at the breaking point." Rögnvaldr Sablinov, ex-Chancellor of the Triumverate of Kæsþiöndhrgarðr, and one of the ring leaders of the planned coup, was sitting in his makeshift office in Niflheim Castle in the Tundarian Expanse, taking refuge there after the razing of Friedensberg.

He was looking over the news reports and a map, smiling. "With the von Papen residence burned to the ground, and the subsequent massacre of the protesters, there is no way Xavier will be able to control Slawisch-Sachsen. Kirchenstaat will follow suit..." He looked over the map once more and smiled.

"Come, we're going to Friedensberg, I will not be cooped up here to do nothing. Now if Brune would just get a move on...."

]OOC: Sorry for the short post, but I just don't have a lot of time any more.

And of course, all liberties taken have been discussed previously with Derscon.

New Geneva

The doors opened into the office. Lord General Rakhamov looked up and smiled at his guest.

"Please, sit him down." The four Dersconi Shock Troopers -- in their full battle armour -- threw the man into the chair and held him there as Karaka poured another glass of vodka, clearly elated.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Marechal Brune. How nice of you to drop by." Karaka looked around in the office as his secretary shut the door behind him. There were six Shock Troopers there in the room -- four holding Brune in the chair, two at the door -- and two of his personal guard force behind him, as well as his second-in-command and chief of staff, General Vozsheti.

"We figured, Mr. Brune, that you would be attempting to make your way into this base, but assaulting a Dersconi stronghold with only one thousand men? Marechal, I thought you were smarter than that." He took another sip and walked towards the door.

"Vozsheti, you finish this. I have important business to attend to." When Karaka walked out the door, Vozsheti made his way to Brune, producing a scalpel.

"A shame, Brune, that you would be so incompete--" He never finished the statement, though, as one of the Shock Troopers emptied his clip into his chest, while two others immediately took out the two soldiers from the personal guard force of Karaka. Marechal Brune stood up, brushing himself off, and finishing off Karaka's vodka that he left on the table. The Reichskamphener pulled up the computer in the office and used the passcard given to him by Marshal Marmont to access the main network.

"Ah, good, the passageway is still intact, and relatively unguarded -- just a few automated turrets and mines. Sergeant Hilaire, work your magic."

"With pleasure, sir." One of the Shock Troopers jumped over the desk and sat down where Brune was sitting, taking off the battle armour to reveal the BDUs of a Sola Fide Imperial Guardsman -- the unit most loyal to Brune and Reichskamphen, instead of Xavier and Derscon.

Sergeant Hilaire went to work quickly, getting into the Defence Network of the fortress that was now New Geneva -- specifically, to the section of the hidden passage. It was a simple task, and he already wrote the programme -- he would simply put the signals currently being sent on an infinite loop while he froze the connection to the autoturrets and the mines, shutting them off.

"Done!" The Computer specialist removed the passcard and the jump drive from the computer and replaced it into its original location. Brune smiled and addressed the team.

"Hilaire, you uploaded the Dersconi Map?"

"Yes, sir." The map itself wasn't necessary -- Brune knew the conplex like the back of his hand -- but they needed to figure out what the Dersconi did to it, and where they kept stuff.

"Good. Our first goal will be to free our boys in captivity, and then get weapons for them. From there, the boys inside will make their way to the central core -- thank God the current Dersconi school of thought is centralization -- and overrun it, while our boys on the outside destroy the barracks. If we have time, my sources inside say that Marshal Marmont is being held captive here, and I'd like to find him. All clear? Good. Let's move."

OOC: Deus ex Machina!

General Karaka was in the Central Command Centre overlooking the current skirmish outside the New Genevan South Gates. Over the past few weeks, the Reichskampheneren have gotten more and more feisty, and have been fighting with the patrols more often. Good for us. Let's hope they keep throwing themselves over the cliff.

His rounds were coming to a close when a staff member came up to him with a letter.

"Sir, orders from the Kremlin." Lord General Rakhamov turned around and grabbed the letter, ripping it open to read, and sighed.

"Ugh. Xavier wants be back in Derscon for some damned fool reason or another. Ready a chopper, he wants me there now."

"Sir, one is ready." Karaka smiled.

"Always on top of things. Let's go."

*** *** ***

About ten minutes later, after Lord General Rakhamov left for RAMC, the chief of staff heard a rumbling at the blast doors to get in. What the hell? When he looked over at the security console, his face went pale. "ERROR: SECURITY SYSTEM DOWN."

"FUCK! SOUND THE ALARM, WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" It was too late, though -- the blast door exploded inward, rockets flying through the hole, destroying some of the computers and displays. Utter chaos erupted as what looked like Dersconi Shock Troopers -- but were just the Sola Fide soldiers in the armour -- stormed into the control centre, firing their rockets and grenade launchers at the major structures -- the display screens and the computers -- while gunners opened fire with the LMG-mod for the DAR-1. The Command Centre was quickly taken, since the security system was down, and Sergeant Hilaire managed to hack into the alarm system from the inside and deactivate it (along with the backup system).

After ten minutes, all of the Dersconi in the Command Centre were dead, the place burning so hot as to start melting the thick metal desks. It was at this point the Reichskampheneren got the hell out of there.

Brune was smiling to himself, but knew the fight wasn't over. The explosion that rocked the command centre and collapsed the building it was in alerted everyone to the attack, and he knew it wouldn't be as easy any more. But it didn't matter -- he had 1000 troops already inside, and more and more coming in through the passage-way, and the skirmishers were putting up a fierce fight, occupying most of the Dersconi troops in the city.

He had one place to visit yet, though.

"Come, this office should be where he is." Two of the guardsmen went up to the door, kicked it down and stormed in, but stopped in their tracks. Brune walked in after them, and could only stare at what he witnessed -- Marshal Marmont's corpse, starting to decay, the knife still in his skull, the dark red, dried pool of blood on the floor behind him. The smell was overwhelming, and Brune had to duck out of the room and let the soldiers in the captured Shock Trooper suits go in.

"Wrap the body up, I won't let him be treated like this." Sergeant Hilaire turned to the Marechal.

"Sir, some of the skirmishers managed to push through one of the checkpoints, and are nearing the gates of the city." Brune nodded. There may be a God, after all.

The Kremlin

Tsar Xavier was infuriated. "What do you mean New Geneva is under ATTACK?! The place is a goddamned fortress, and you're telling me that we've nearly LOST THE FUCKING CITY?!" He slammed his fist down onto the thick wooden desk, leaving a bit of a hole, and began frantically pacing back and forth. At that point, an aide came up, and was suddenly very afraid for his life.

"Uh...s...s...s..siiirrr...a message from Gene..evan c.c.c.c.ommand..." Xavier ripped the report from his hands and opened the letter. When he reached the end, he was visibly shaking, and threw the letter back at the aide, took his sword, and sliced him in half across the chest, the lower half of his arms falling by the wayside, his torso flying into the wall with a spinning roundhouse kick from Xavier.

Sir Arthur Wellesley, the current Defence Minister, followed Xavier with his eyes as he stormed out of the office and into the Private Chambers. He bent down and picked up the letter that caused him to kill one of the aides and read.


URGENT:
STATUS:
REICHSKAMPHEN FORCES STORMED CITY.
COMMAND IN RUINS.
REMAINING FACTIONS SURRENDERED.
NEW GENEVA LOST.

Star Office

Lord General Karaka Rakhamov was already present when General Orlean walked up the ramp into the office. Orlean didn't bother with pleasantries and just sat down, knowing the Tsar wanted to talk business, not pleasure. Xavier turned around when he sat down, his eyes now a permanent glowing red, albeit faint, for the moment.

"Bad news, New Geneva fell." General Karaka could not hide his shock, anger, or fear, at that news, as he was the General responsible for it. But he knew he would not be blamed, as he was called away before the fall. It doesn't matter, though...it's now on my name...

"Good news, we know where the traitors are. They're basing themselves in an ancient fortress in the Tundra -- Niflheim Castle. Orlean raised an eyebrow.

"And why wasn't this picked up earlier?"

"Because, General, this is not your average fortress, and it's deep in the technological dead zone. However, we have two problems here:

"With the fall of New Geneva, the rebellious Dersconi states will likely undergo a huge wave of confidence and rebellious attitude, and could possibly secede. If this happens, it will be more than Derscon in civil war -- it will be all of Greater Prussia. We are aware that certain national leaders have taken a disliking to me, and will attempt to aide the rebellious states. However, I have the full confidence of the Rosdivani, the Wanderjaran, the Shakalan, as well as the Aumanii and the Allaneans." Lord General Rakhamov nodded.

"Quite. It is likely that Pschycotic Pschycos, Cherry Ridge, Reichskamphen, and The Peoples Freedom, with possible outside support from the Democratic Colonies, will support the rebels against you." Xavier nodded.

"As I have foreseen. But they shall be crushed with my power. Lord General Karaka, stand." The General was taken aback by the sudden order, but did as he was told. One of Xavier's personal staff members came up to him and felt his shoulder boards.

"Karaka, you have done well under Marshal Darii." Xavier stood up, and handed his staff member a case. "And have proven yourself on the missions I have sent you on." The staff member removed Lord General Karaka Rakhamov's shoulder boards and put them in the case, but only after taking out another pair, this one with gold braids. Xavier bent down, and when he came back up, had a black and gold baton in his hand, the double-headed eagle crowning the top, handing it to Karaka.

"I think it's time you were Marshal Karaka Rakhamov. As for you, Orlean," he said, turning to his trusted confidant. "You will be a Marechal l'Empire upon the completion and general success of your next mission. You are to take your new force and destroy the castle, and kill any living being inhabiting it. A contingent of Honour Guards will be sent with you. Orlean, meet Kynaz Sanin at RAMC airport. Karaka, your orders are attached to your baton. Dismissed."

The Ruins of Friedensberg

The fires still burned, even after a month -- clouding the clear, full-mooned night with a thick black smoke. Yet oddly, the inner courtyard remained untouched -- no smoke blocked the moonlight from shining down on the gardens of the courtyard -- which miraculously escaped the destruction of the raid.

Rögnvaldr Sablinov stood over the Chalice of Fire in the centre of the courtyard, taking in its warmth in the moonlit gardens. His staff was in his hand, to lean on, due to the injuries sustained in the raid. Every day since then he's prayed for Franz von Papen and Blazhei Voikinov, though he knew they'd be dead by now. But there's hope, he thought to himself, managing a smile. "Always hope."

"That's why we're here, after all." Sablinov looked up at the voice from the gates, but didn't move -- fighting and running would be futile. But it wasn't one of Xavier's henchmen. From the shadow of the gates, Count Gottfried von Guderian, Prime Minister of Slawisch-Sachsen, stepped into the light of the flame, carrying a briefcase.

About a half an hour later, Lupin von Preslov, the President of Luther's Rose (Derscon's largest operator of medical clinics for the poor) and right hand man to Blazhei, solemnly entered the courtyard to see Sablinov and Guderian looking over the Chalice. He looked further back to see the briefcase on a pedestal, carved in the shape of a Seraphim, the table being the folded-flat lower wings of the Highest Angel. No words were exchanged when Lupin approached the chalice and meditated on the flame.

The Crown Prince of Greuthungland, Theodoric IV, was the last to arrive, and with little pomp or circumstance, carrying only a small pouch.

Minister Guderian returned with the briefcase, opened it, and pulled out a strange sheet of parchment. They merely glanced at it, knowing what it was -- it was unprecedented in Dersconi history, a faction rebelling against the Tsar. But never in Dersconi history was a Tsar in office and not crowned. The Coronation process was implemented as a Holy Ritual to prevent the taint of evil to creep upon the throne -- but it was assumed all Tsars would be crowned.

The parchment was thrown into the Chalice, the flames turning a dark purple, casting eerie lights when mixed with the moon shining down on them. Prince Theodoric opened the pouch and tossed the contents in the Chalice, the strange crystal powder crackling in the Chalice, giving the purple fire streaks of green. He then pulled out a dagger, a very decorative one, one clearly used for ritual purposes. He cut a line across his palm, squeezing the blood out and cupping the small pool of blood in his hand, passing the dagger with his other hand to the others, they all doing the same.

When the dagger returned to Theodoric, he placed it back in the case, and took his other hand, and poured the blood into the chalice, the other three doing the same. They all then clasped the cut hands with each other, and poured the mixed blood into the chalice, then wrapping their hands in the cloths from the case that the dagger came from.

Once the blood was poured in, the flames flickered, shot up, and then died, and in the chalice was the parchment, glittering gold, with their signatures at the bottom, written in blood. Chancellor Sablinov nodded.

"Agreements with implications as far reaching as these have always been made in this manner, to demonstrate and secure the divine bond that such an action must have behind it. It is unfortunate, and somewhat ironic, but, in order to save the Empire, we first must destroy it."

Star Office

Tsar Xavier's fury permeated the room as he paced back and forth between the chairs his ministers sat on.

"Secession? OUTRIGHT REBELLION! TREASON!" Yuri Golovko, the Minister of State security, shook his head in frustration.

"Sir, we had no idea. We h-"

"So I can blame this on the incompetence of the State? On the incompetence of you?" Golovko was visibly shaken for the first time in his very long life.

"Well...not exactly, sir. Since Tsar Rekjyavich Ivan Andropov III, and subsequently Alexei-"

"Do not mention that name in my presence," Xavier growled.

"The Ministry has been very...limited in its power." Wellesley, the Minister of Defence, just sighed. And it's a good thing, too. However, he forgot Xavier, being an Andropov, was telepathic, but was harshly reminded of that fact when the Tsar whipped around and threw the one hundred and seventy-three year old across the room.

"YOU are part of the reason this Empire is falling apart! They are your confidants leading the rebellion, are they not? I expect your resignation on my desk in the morning, traitor." Always having a strict physical regime, the old minister stood up and bowed to Xavier.

"I shall do as Your Majesty commands." It didn't matter, really -- he was planning on resigning earlier, but then his frend and successor, Marmont, was 'executed' by Karaka for 'treason,' whatever that meant any more.

After Wellesley left, Xavier turned to Helmer, the Commander in Chief of the Schutzstaffel. "Send a force to Slawisch-Sachsen and crush the rebellion. I don't think I need to state why failure cannot be tolerated."

Slawisch-Sachsen

It was only a Corps-sized force.

They were only up against rebels.

The SS was designed to occupy and destroy.

What was there to fear?

Fanatics.

....and Insanity.

*******

The thunderstorm raged on as it had for the past three days, and Private Krobb was sick of the constant thunder. It seemed to affect his Sergeant, Pytor von Danzheim, even more, though. Danzheim used to be a state of the Empire before it was merged with the rest of the northernmost states into the Tundarian Expanse, after the Second Fimbulvetr, about two thousand years ago, that made the area uninhabitable to much more than military and prison facilities (as far as the rest of the world was concerned, anyway).

But the family of the Prince of Danzheim retained their noble status for awhile due to their special position, the King being a Prince-Elector and a member of the High Council of the Dersconi Empire, the ruling council of the Second Empire made up of the most powerful psionic families of Derscon. Due to the loss of their official position as rulers of Danzheim, though, they no longer bred amongst the nobility, and instead had to do so amongst the common people, the potency of their psionics slowly dying, until they were no longer powerful enough to retain a position on the High Council.

But no matter how weak it becomes, it never fully leaves.

Pytor von Danzheim was the son of a Danzheim and a Velshavitsch, another High Council family, which now died out, as the last of the Velshavitsches was a woman, who was now a Danzheim. Both of his parents retained those faint wisps of power, and both parents gave those wisps to Pytor, which is how he was a Sergeant at only 19.

"Sir, are you okay?" Private Krobb was almost worried about his Sergeant -- he's never seen him like this before. Sergeant Pytor nodded.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I just...I just have a bad feeling about the whole thing...." The Private raised an eyebrow, knowing that his Sergeant's instincts saved him more than a few times.

"What do you mean, sir?" Sergeant von Danzheim sighed.

"I don't know, I can't place it. I just...." his voice trailed off as his company's Captain came up to them both. They saluted.

"Sergeant von Danzheim, I want your squad to take point." Pytor fully expected this, and along with his already strong bad feeling about the whole situation, made him sigh again.

"Yes, sir, understood."

"Good. Get going, no time to lose." We may not have any to lose, soon, Pytor thought.

*********

A few miles from Friedensberg

Friedensberg -- it's where it all started, and where it all will end.

They hoped.

Pytor was gripping his rifle tight, leading his fireteam -- of which Krobb was the gunner for -- into the dark forests surrounding the ancient town.

The ground beneath them began to shake. It was subtle, but Pytor picked it up in an instant, and was terrified. What's going on here?

Pytor was beginning to understand, which was never good for a mortal being to do. The veil of reality is there for a reason, ignorance is truly a blessing, for it is all we have against insanity -- our delusions are our defences.

He brought his fireteam deep into the woods of Friedensberg, aiming for a hill to get a good look at the rebel position. It would only take about a half hour to get there. But as they went deeper, the trees were....different.

"Krobb, you notice that?"

"Notice what?"

What?

The trees...they were bleeding.

Bleeding.

And the ground....the tortured faces. Oh God the screaming!

Each time he took a step, the skulls cracked under his feet, and another tortured soul cried out to the heavens, never able to free themselves from their hell.

And the blood! Oh, the blood of the trees, the thick, crimson blood soaked into the ground, turning it to mud. And he sank in it, ever so slowly...

Pytor looked up, and the blood from the trees dripped and splashed in his face. Oh my God! He began to flail wildly, closer and closer to madness. He turned around to get help from his fireteam, but they weren't there at all -- they were rotting corpses, their blackened blood oozing down their bones, their flesh in a pile at their feet. And they were hungry.

One of the rotting corpses was walking up to him, as he was now trapped in the mud of tortured faces screaming at him, and the blood flowing from the trees. Even the sky was black and crimson red, and it seemed the blood dripped from the sky. When he looked back, he could see the rotting corpse standing over him, the flesh seeping down over his trapped body. And he could see the muscle structures of Krobb decomposing on the skull, as what was Krobb reached out a hand to grab him, to kill him. He wanted to scream, but couldn't -- his vocal cords were ripped out. But his mind screamed.

This...isn't....really....HAPPENING!

Pytor was beginning to understand, which was never good for a mortal being to do. The veil of reality is there for a reason, ignorance is truly a blessing, for it is all we have against insanity -- our delusions are our defences.

He brought his fireteam deep into the woods of Friedensberg, aiming for a hill to get a good look at the rebel position. It would only take about a half hour to get there. But as they went deeper, the trees were....different.

"Krobb, you notice that?"

"Notice what?"

What?

The trees....he did a double take, and realized that he must have been seeing things. They were fine. I need to get a grip.

He was sweating heavily at this point, still terrified from his previous illusion. He looked back at Krobb -- who was fine -- and motioned him to take his six.

A half an hour later, they reached the hill, and realized that they were up against much more than a few rebel bands.

"Jesus Christ, they have a whole fucking army." Pytor climbed up the hill to see what Krobb was talking about, and went wide-eyed at the site.

Friedensberg was truly a fortress at this point, and had the forces to prove it. He focused on one hill with his binoculars, and was immediately confused.

If the Prime Minister of Slawisch-Sachsen and Chancellor Sablinov were talking, that means the government of Slawsach is supporting the rebellion. Then how the hell did we get i-- His thought process was disrupted by a deafening scream in his left ear. Pytor whipped around to see Krobb, no longer with a face. Shit, snipers! He jumped down from the hill just in time, as a bullet grazed the rocks where his head was not a second before. Headquarters had to know about this.

Corps Command

General von Kalwischet immediately hopped on the radio. If Pytor was calling back, it was important.

"Sergeant von Danzheim, what do you have?"

"Sir, it's fucking huge. Friedensberg is heavily fortified, and they're at least three times our numbers."

"Come again?"

"Sir, we need more men. It's a whole fucking army, and..." The General raised an eyebrow.

"Pytor?" No response. Shit. "Pytor, are you there?"

"Y...ye...yessir...oh my God...oh God...I have to--" The General heard a terrifying scream over the radio before the connection went dead.

General von Kalwischet was moving as fast as he could, to try and keep the shock value of the SS troops. Yes, they were much larger, but they were rebels all the same.

His opinion was much different, though, when he got to the Friedenswald. He could sense the danger beyond it. But whatever death he may suffer here would never match the death he would suffer in the Kremlin Dungeons for running.

"March on!" So he began to position himself in a way that he could get a good spot to fire on the fortress, and then he saw what von Danzheim saw -- Friedensberg was even more fortified than when it was built, and he could see the supernatural defences of the entire area. And the rebels -- he couldn't see them all, but he saw a lot. And they weren't bands of farmers -- some of them were well-trained professional militias of GICAPFAH, some were part of the Slawisch-Sachsen State Army, and some were of some sort of being he never saw before, but the mere sight of them made him feel nothing but terror.

A major came up to him, pale as a ghost, and trembling. "S..s...s.ir...y.u.u.u.uou may want t.tt.t.t.t...t..t...t..oooo ssssssssseeeeeheheheeee this..." The General followed the Major to the hill von Danzheim was on not an hour before, and stopped dead in his tracks.

There lied the bodies of all of von Danzheim's fireteam. Or, rather, what was left of them. They're eyes were in a pile at the base of the rock, staring up at them all, their pupils still dilated from the fear that they had before their demise. Flesh, blood, and bone, was splattered and scattered all over, bits of brain and blood turned the ground to mud, and streaks of skin and bone coloured the rocks.

Looking down at the bodies, the General saw that their faces had been eaten off -- there was nothing but a pile of mush. Their chests, though...it was as if something crawled into them and just burst out of their chest. The ribcages were nothing but sand, and the organs non-existent, but the blast of the blood, and what was left of the bone structures, made it clear something shot out of their chest like a rocket, and left them nothing but organic matter.

It was at this point the General looked up at the top of the rock, the colour from his face evaporating the instant he set his eyes on the wretched creature. He pulled out his service pistol and took a few shots, but it did nothing to the creature, so General von Kalwischet shot himself in the head, having been driven mad, and knowing it was the only way to escape without pain.

The rest of the soldiers of the Corps heard the shot, and immediately did the only thing they knew how to do -- charge in the general direction of the gunfire and prepare to kill as many people as possible. When they got word of the general's suicide by the soldiers who were still there, followed by the pained screams of the dying, they changed their tactics, and instead focused on burning everything.

The regular infantry hung back as the air support began burning the forest to the ground, and the artillery shelled the enemy fortifications. But it was futile; something was protecting that fortress, and the regular shells couldn't do anything. Unfortunately, by the time they realized this, the SS Corps was overrun by the militiamen of the Martyr's Call, the fanatical militiamen that made up the GICAPFAH Shock Trooper brigades. The SS troops were taken completely by surprise by the rockets, flame-throwers, machine guns, and grenade launchers of the Martyr's Call militiamen, and the Air Corps of the Slawisch-Sachsen Army quickly overran the armoured divisions of the SS Corps.

It wasn't much of a battle, it was a total slaughter. By the rise of the sun, Not one SS solider was alive.

That was the report the Dersconi government got, anyway.
__________________________________

http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l91/empyreanimperator/CFSD.jpg
PUBLIC EMERGENCY BROADCAST

Good evening.

I speak to all of you, because Derscon is in trouble, and I must be brief, so I shall come out and say it -- our Tsar is false. A demon, a tyrant, and a demigod. He cares nothing for human life, as was witnessed by the brutal massacre of a peaceful protest against the death of one of the most prominent figures in Derscon, who was killed for expressing his opinion -- in private.

And it was today, where at a council of states, the government has sent troops to destroy us. As you see, by me writing this, they have failed.

But they have put the final nail in the coffin. We can no longer stand idly by as a demon sits pretending on the Holy Throne of Derscon; we obviously cannot negotiate.

So, as decided unanimously, The Imperial States of Greuthungland, Slawisch-Sachsen, and Kirchenstaat -- for the current military government is illegitimate and will be disregarded -- shall toss off our chains as Imperial States, and shall hereby be Free States, and have signed an agreement, forming the Coalition of the Free States and the People of Derscon, a Confederacy of States, organizations, and people, against the antitsar.

We pray our secession is merely the start of change, and are troubled it has come to war, but if war it is, then war it shall be.

Heresigned,

Rögnvaldr Sablinov
President of the CFSPD

Derscon suffers a great Tribulation.
Power hungry political demons have seized control of several States of the Empire, and are spewing vicious slander, spreading their poison throughout our great realm.

This will not be tolerated.

Due to the insurrection, Derscon is hereby in a State of Emergency for the duration of the conflict.

In my office as Emperor of Greater Prussia, I hereby authorize the use of Prussian Armed Forces in the rebellious states, as this rebellion will spread, and threaten the very fabric of the Prussian Empire.

I will not rest until the rebel scum is purge from the face of the Earth.

So sayeth I.

Tsar Xavier Andropov II

New Geneva

"Sir! Sablinov pushed back the SS Forces!" Marechal Brune grabbed the memo from the aide and smiled.

"Good. The Tsarists will undoubtedly push again, and with greater forces. Insure that the rebellion continues. Rally support and armies in the northern states, they will support us, having suffered through the Dersconi tyranny. The south will likely remain neutral, however, having been catered to by the bastard Tsar.

Wire Shogun Taiki and Queen Antonette. I think it's time we make a move."

OOC: Jeez. It's been awhile. And looking back, it seems I've confused a lot of the locations, etc. Again.

So, I made a crude map in MSPAINT. It took over 9000 hours. But this map is canon. IF a post conflicts with this map, the post is wrong; change the conflicting details in the post to match with this map. Sorry for the crapness of the image -- photobucket is made of fail, but I'm too lazy to get anything else. The green/gold are the Rebel states, the red are the loyal states. The dark maroon is Gernish, I just forgot to put the word label. He's dark red since Gernish is an autonomous state of Derscon, and on the Tsar's side.

http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l91/empyreanimperator/DMCW.jpg

So, here we go!

Rekjyavich-Andropov Military City
Star Office

"For God's sake fuck this shit! Why were the rebels successful?!" Tsar Xavier glared at Reichsmarshal Reinhard Helmer, the CinC-SS. "Why did you fail?! Is it your fault? Should I get rid of you? Are you my problem?!" The Reichsmarshal was known for his stone-cold expressions, and he was visibly shaking, for Xavier's wrath is something to make any man quake.

"No, sir. The fault was not mine, I went with the information I had. Reports state that Friedensberg is once more a fortress, only this time, a stronger one than before. Something supernatural is helping them."

"Indeed, Your Majesty." Golovko stood up and laid a folder on the Tsar's desk. "Inside, you will see the photographs sent back from the annihilated SS team." Xavier scanned through the photos, and could feel a rage build up inside him, but it was not his own. We will discuss this in private.

"Razladanov!" Imperial Marshal Darii Razladanov, now CinC-A, glanced up at his master as Xavier continued to speak. "What did you decide as to your troop redeployments?"

"Sir, Anzusgeneral Jormund von Donnersberg remained with the Second Army in Saint Rynald to continue the military occupation of the territories until they are entirely Prussianified. The Solus Christus Army of Greater Prussia, as well as the Tsar Mikhail I Grand Army, have remained in Paxton Province. Fleet Admiral Berzhinsky has also remained behind with the First Grand Fleet. Everything else has returned home." Tsar Xavier nodded.

"Golovko, what's your info."

"Your Majesty, it's confirmed by our sources that Marechal Brune has rallied most of Northern Reichskamphen against the Dersconi, and are moving to reinforce Friedensberg. New Geneva is now heavily defended, and that's where Gerhardt Volckner controls for the moment. We are, however, unsure of the location of either churchman, but we suspect they are either in New Geneva, or Niflheim Castle." Tsar Xavier took all of the information in before speaking.

"Okay. I want Friedensberg, and then New Geneva. However, we can't do that with a single SS division. Marshal Darii, I'm putting you in charge of the situation. You have the entire Dersconi Imperial Army at your service. Take the fortress. If you, upon arrival, assess that it cannot be done, then do not be afraid to make that call, we must not give them another victory. If we cannot take it, we will destroy it by any means possible. Thankfully, none of our galactic colonies have rebelled, but the Prussian Imperial Navy will likely side with Brune and his rebel bunch. But my flagship is nearly complete, and once it is complete, we will achieve total dominance." He looked back down at the map, as well as Golovko's written assessment.

"I will dispatch Marechal Orlean to New Geneva. Lord General Rakhamov is on his way to Niflheim Castle at this moment. I will be joining him, and dealing with the northern rebels myself."

Official Comminique
Parliament of Gernish to Dersconi HQ

To Our Dersconi Brothers and Allies,
We, the Parliament of Gernish, in order to assure our support of your noble cause of maintaining Empire during this violent secession, do hereby pledge our military and rhetoric support of the Empire cause and of the Tsar Xavier, long live them both.

As per the vote in Parliament this day, we do hereby request instruction on what military action, if any, to aide you with in your pursuit of regaining that which has been so viciously stolen. Please be advised that you have the RAG (Regimental Army of Gernish), GADF (Gernish Air Defense Force), GNDF (Gernish Naval Defense Force) and various GernishSpecOps units (Airborne, Amphibious, Heli) at your full dispoal.

God Save the Tsar.
God Save the Empire.

The Parliament of Gernish
Praetor Field Marshall Albert Hernandez Presiding

The Kingdom of Rueikheimr

"So...what is this thing?" Marshal Darii shrugged.

"No idea, but we're supposed to fire it at the fortress when we get in range." His aide shrugged.

"Oookay then."
____________________________

Friedensberg

Chancellor Sablinov looked over the reconstructed hall and glee. They will never get through this. Marechal Brune was with him.

"Marechal, we can't hold up here forever."

"I know. But for the moment, it's our best course, until we can get more support, and more strength."

"Marechal, the reports say there are two armies coming at us from the north. Two. We have six armies, plus everything else, and the militia, plus support from Southern Reichskamphen thanks to you, and this wonderful little support from a rival." Brune shook his head.

"The Tsar is evil, the Tsar is a bastard, but the Tsar is not stupid. He knows our strength now, thanks to the SS Division, he wouldn't send only three armies. I don't like it, we're missing the whole picture." Chancellor Sablinov laughed and slapped the Marechal on the back.

"Where's your confidence? We hit them once, we can do it again." As the Chancellor left, General la Salle came up behind him.

"Arrogant, isn't he?" The Marechal nodded.

"Yes. I don't like this...whatever the hell he calls it. He puts too much confidence in it."

"And he's being corrupted by it." Silence fell over them both before la Salle took a sharp breath. Brune looked over at him curiously.

"Yes?"

"What if..."

"What?" General la Salle bit his bottom lip, in thought, but merely shoot his head and sighed.

"No, nevermind. Stupid idea."

"No, what?"

"It's just that....there seems to be a lot of similarities between this...thing Chancellor Sablinov is dealing with a--"

"--and Damonagaashi..." Brune's voice trailed off, and they just stared at each other for a moment. "You think they're the same?"

"No, no, not at all. The funny thing is, Other than right here, he probably won't appear in this thread much at all. Mostly in Two Flowers." Brune nodded.

"Yeah, you're probably right. These supernatural god things are starting to creep me out a little, to be honest." La Salle nodded.

"Indeed. Let's hope they stay in the other thread, and not this one." Both men nodded, blinked a few times, wondering what they just said, but shrugged it off, and walked back to the map room.
____________________________

Gernish

Gernish gained autonomous status only a few years ago -- before that, it was a part of the Kingdom of Rueikheimr, so the intricate border defences between Gernish and Reichskamphen still existed. Unfortunately, unlike the several other times Dersconi troops marched across the border, there were troops on the other side. Not that it bothered Field Marshal Vladimir Grentoszhov. Oh, sure, there were a few divisions over there. He had three Grand Armies, each consisting of three armies, each consisting of three Corps, each consisting of nine divisions. It was the biggest logistical pain in the ass to move them without raising eyebrows, but since the Reichskamphen airwaves were still partially controlled by Derscon, and, in space, Derscon dominated, it was less difficult than it could have been.

Marshal Vladimir got word from his commanders in the field that the batteries were set up, and everything was ready. He looked at his watch, smiling, and sighed.

"Invasion of Reichskamphen, take three." With that, the missile batteries unleashed their thousands of missiles, and the bombers in the sky moved to rain down hell from heaven, and the border defences engaged, and once more, Dersconi troops ploughed across the border to invade Reichskamphen.

OOC: See Original Post for new rules.

OOC: Oh my, am I a slacker. Oh, and all things here also approved by Reichskamphen.

Field Marshal Vladimir Grentoszhov looked over his shoulder at the smouldering remains of a Reichskamphen Army Corps that stood in his way. He was under orders not to take prisoners, so the SS divisions attached were just finishing the last body ditch, filling it with fuel and igniting it. Strangely, very little resistance was met, but he thought he knew why -- at this point in time, New Geneva and Friedensberg were the biggest concerns, minor towns could be sacrificed.

"Marshal Grentoszhov!" The Dersconi commander whipped around to see his chief of staff with a memo in his hand. "Sir, from Marshal Darii. He is in position, he's just waiting for you now."

"Tell him that, if all goes to plan, which it won't, it will be about three days until we can cut New Geneva off from Reichskamphen, but it is entirely likely that Volckner will wake up and move in to hold us off. Obviously, nothing he can put in front of us will stop us, but it will slow us down enough to make it inconvenient."

"Yes, sir."

Varyagiheimr hadn't seen this much military presence since the initial war where Psychotic Pschycos became an independent state from the Dersconi Empire.

But Varyagiheimr was the only state sharing a border with Psi-Pso, and also shared a border with Cherry Ridge, both Prussian States who were likely to support the Coalition.

Obviously, the border defences were at 100%, and the SS divisions were entirely mobilized. Also present were three Grand Armies (Derscon had a tendency to work in threes, merely out of a cultural, rather than a strategic, purpose). Derscon's military was stretched to the brink, but at this point, they were facing an invasion of the motherland, something that has happened not once in the five thousand plus years of the Dersconi state (in its various forms).

But military action was expected, so they were deployed; it was that simple.

“Ready the guns, captain!”

“Yessir!” It wouldn’t hold them off. Of course it wouldn’t hold them off! That’s not the job. I die here today so that others may live. He was Captain Nikolas Lombard, former artillery master of Napoleon IV’s L’Empereur Division, unquestionably the best in all of Prussia. The Captain should have been a colonel by now, but with the death of the Napoleons, his promotions were never granted – especially now that Xavier disbanded the Division in favour of his own Praesillei Dei, the Guardians of the Crown.

Captain Lombard had only one mission – to hold up the Dersconi war machine, to slow them down so the rest of the Reichskamphen army could form a defensive perimeter around New Geneva. The duty was strictly volunteer – everyone here knew they would die today. After a long discussion with h is wife, Katja, and his son and daughter, Louis and Joan, he said his final goodbye and signed up to command the forces left behind.

Captain Lombard felt a warm hand on his shoulder, calming him. “You don’t have to do this, Nikolas.” The Captain weakly smiled. He knew the general respected him – it was undoubtedly reciprocated.

“No, Jean, I do.” Lombard turned to meet they eyes of General Jean-Baptise LaSalle. “If this is what it takes, then how can I not?” The General couldn’t help but smile, albeit faintly.

“I only wish I didn’t have to lose my best.” He sighed, pausing, before pulling out two boxes.

“Marechal Brune agreed that, while it may not mean much anymore, you deserve them.” The General took off Lombard’s shoulder boards and replaced them with the long awaited Colonel stripes, and out of the other box, presented him with the baton of a Marechal L’Empire. Nikolas slowly grasped the baton with both hands, admiring it, letting it sink in that this was now his.

“I…wow…” The Colonel stood there, baton in hand, staring at La Salle, who merely saluted back at him.

“God be with you, Marechal-Colonel Lombard. May Heaven smile.” Lombard smirked.

“And the Devil have mercy.”

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Nikolas Lombard returned to his command post at the top of the hill, in the farm house. The owners refused to evacuate, instead staying to help keep house. When the Marechal-Colonel walked into the dining room, all present did a doubletake at the new shoulder boards and baton. His chief of staff shrugged, suppressing a smirk.

“It’s about time.” A small chuckle swept over his staff, until Colonel Lombard sat down at the centre of the table, and all knew it was business from here on out.

“Okay. We have one heavy infantry division, an armoured division, and two heavy artillery brigades outside the usual gun units. This puts us at barely Corps strength. We are up against three very large Grand Armies under one of Xavier’s protégés – I’m not kidding when I say Field Marshal Vladimir Grentoszhov rivals Marshal Rakhamov in cruelty and contempt for human life.”

“So there really is no chance of getting out alive, is there.” Everyone already knew this, but it was only now that it sank in. Lombard’s Chief of Staff, Major Udo Heermann, raised an eyebrow.

“Overwhelming enemy forces commanded by a psychopath with a blood lust? Sounds like my ex-wife.” After the laughter died down, he turned to Lombard. “I bet General Marc’s tanks will kill more than you will.”

“Three to one, even,” chimed in General Marc. “And I’ll last the longest, too.”

“Ha! Ridiculous.” Heads turned to General Frank Silvesonn, commander of the heavy infantry division. “I could get a better hundred than you, Marc, and you know it.”

“So we have a deal then!” the Major announced. “Whoever kills the most gets carried though the Gates of Heaven by the rest of us. The person who lasts the longest gets to lead the procession.” All laughed, and all stood to shake hands.

“Then we have an accord, men,” smirked Lombard. “See you at the Gates, my friends, and I hope I’m not too heavy for you!”

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Major Heermann walked up to the gun Marechal Lombard was leaning against, just in time to see him wipe a tear from his eye, as he put away the picture of his wife and kids.

“Sir…they’re here.” Lombard nodded.

“Good. Fire when they’re close, and send them back to the hell they spawned from!”

Island of Hope

“Tough choice.”

“Please. Our business is gambling.”

“On the future of a nation?”

“Why not? Millions sell themselves to us every day. Why not make it billions?”

“In the lower chambers of the Palace of the Citadel, eight men in Kaesiri suits sat around a nonagon table, the soundproof underground conference room impervious to outside listeners.

In the South Prussian Sea, the Island of Hope was first settled by Derscon about five hundred years ago, at the height of the Theocratic Epoch of Derscon, when the Orthodox Church of Derscon ruled every aspect of life. Ivan Yakov constructed the Citadel – the oldest building on the island, and only four hundred fifty three years old – as a safe haven and escape from the theocratic oppression of the Third Empire. It has remained such ever since, generally free from the Codes of Morality, and exists as an Imperial Territory, rather than a state.

Eight men – the owners of the five largest casinos, the Presidents of the two largest banks in Derscon (both HQd on the Island), and the President of the largest real estate corporation in Derscon – were busy deliberating on the side they will choose in the civil war. If any.

The Casino owners wanted Xavier, the real estate President wanted the Coalition, and the bankers wanted neutrality. But majority did not rule – only unanimity.

“I do not believe it would be a wise choice to take a side so early.”

“I agree with my colleague here. Money is one thing – our livelihoods, this island, is another.”

“Gambling is gambling.”

“No, it isn’t.” All heads turned to Aleksandr Yakov, current Patriarch of the Yakov family, and owner of the largest casino on the island (as well as many other entrepreneurial endeavours, some of questionable legality). By nature of his familial and business status, he commanded the respect of all in the room.

“How is it not?”

“My ancestors founded this society as a place of vacation and relaxation, a place to get away from it all. Understand that, if we are on the losing side, four hundred plus years of the hope and freedom this Citadel gave will be lost, never to be regained. We all will lose our families, our lives; our livelihoods, our reputations, and we will have lost our struggle against the monotony of life. For the moment, I ask that we contemplate the full consequences of the choices on the table as we wait for our Chairman.” All nodded – albeit some reluctantly – and deliberation stopped for about five minutes. That was when the doors opened, and all stood to greet the Chairman.

Yakov smiled as he led the seventeen y4ear old chairman to his seat. “I’m glad you could make it, Kynaz Sanin.”

“Thanks. It was a bitch, but I’m here.” All sat as Kynaz Sanin Alexeitovich Andropov – CEO of Andropov Energy Corporation – took his seat. “I call to order this meeting of the Hope Conglomerate, etc, etc. So, what did you guys decide?”

“We were waiting fo—”

“No you didn’t. What did you decide?” Yakov shrugged.

“Well, the casinos want to side with your brother, the Lander wants to side with the Coalition, and the bankers and myself would like to stay neutral.”

“Exactly as I predicted. Obviously, siding with the Coalition is out of the question. Even if they won, this island would be destroyed. And, even though my brother is a tyrant, National Integrity trumps all factors.”

“I guess I figured that,” the Lander shrugged. “Then I wish to remain neutral.”

“So four neutral, four Tsarist. My personal opinion is that we maintain neutrality – I mean the island as a whole. Yakov, come up with a reasonable press release, I know you can. I’ll smooth it over with my brother. All good?” All nodded, and Sanin stood up with a smile.

“Excellent, the Island shall remain as it should, then.”

Marshal Grentoszhov glanced across the horizon while riding in his command vehicle. Virtually no resistance at all. Vladimir bit his lip in concentration as he drove along with his troops. He couldn’t help but smile. They’re honestly afraid. They’re deathly afraid of us! He burst out laughing, much to the surprise of the staff.

“They’re running! Ha! We will push them to New Geneva and wipe th—” He was cut off by a distance crack followed immediately with a deafening thunder. All recognized that sound.

Artillery.

“Guns! Get down!” Within a few seconds, the world was exploding arund the advanced corps. The Dersconi commanders didn’t wait for orders – the CAS drones and rocket artillery were launched in the general direction of the enemy shells, the armoured divisions preparing to swarm whatever fortifications there might be, and the Shock Troopers raging to destroy all in their path.

The Chief of Staff looked around, and it took only a few seconds to discover what the distance crack was. “Vladimir is down!” Fucking sniper! A sharp shooter’s bullet managed to hit the Marshal square in the chest, but he was still conscious and glaring at his Chief.

“Don’t just stand there, help me up, faggot!” Marshal Grentoszhov rose and shook his head a bit, ignoring the pain. The adrenaline was helping, too.

“No Quarter. Send the fuckers to hell.”

Colonel Lombard couldn’t believe his eyes. How did the Marshal survive?! He saw Marshal Grentoszhov, he saw the impact – Hell, I fired the damned rifle! But he just got back up again,.

He couldn’t take another shot, since he couldn’t see the Marshal, so Lombard withdrew back to his command.

Down below, the Colonel could see the Reichskamphen Nashörner tanks battling the Dersconi owned and Macabees produced Nakil 1A2s. The RKers had better commanders, but Derscon had better tanks – and lots more of them. The Rhinos were holding their own, though, which was good.

His mood was significantly dampened, however, when he heard the scream of the Banshee Tactical Bombers – right before the entire hillside was engulfed in fire. Oh well, the AA batteries will get them. The Banshee’s weren’t designed to come back, so I’ve heard.

Hiding behind a rock, Lombard felt a burn on his cheek. Putting a finger up to it, he realized that he’d been grazed by…something. He could hear voices around him.

Okay, four soldiers; four, six, seven, and eight o’ clock. Getting close....four to five. Now! Colonel Lombard chucked a grenade over the rock at six and seven. He heard the yell, the explosion, and popped out from behind the rock, pistol in hand. Six and seven were dead. Eight was wounded and dying. Bang! Now, eight was dead. Wait…where’s five?! This question was answered with a thump to his left shoulder, the rebuttal, a .45 to the Dersconi’s right eye. Hmm, no more grenades. Lombard scavenged the Dersconi soldiers for weapons – a DMR-1, several frag and WP grenades, two pistols, and a flare. This’ll do. He could hear the slow quieting of his guns, meaning the Dersconi had reached some of the batteries. Looking over the rock, down the hill, Lombard saw that the Nashörner tanks withdrew and formed a defensive perimeter around the hill he was on. They won’t last much longer. The roar of the Dersconi Banshees permeated the atmosphere of the battlefield, the voices of the dying that were not heard behind metal and machine.

Marshal Grentoszhov paced irritably, but couldn’t help but smile. These people knew ahead of time they were going to die. That’s the only way one can explain how they can hold up my forces for a day and a half. But it no longer mattered. Their armour was completely annihilated, and his HQ Corps was now occupying the enemy command post – the little farmhouse the Reichsmuffin army used.

Marshal Grentoszhov stepped out of the house and onto the porch, starting into the gates of hell, and feeling at home. This is what I live for! It was thunder storming at this point, and the blackness of the sky, coupled with the fires of the tanks and buildings, almost seemed to beckon the demons and puts of hell, the fires of the nether realm spilling over into Reichskamphen.

Stepping out into the hail and lightning, Vladimir stretched out and smiled, content in the destruction he caused. He heard something rustle behind him, and whipped around just in time to duck as Colonel Lombard whipped his Marechal’s baton at his head. Vladimir scoffed.

“So, you’re the man who spits in the face of death.”

“And the one who beckons it.” Colonel Lombard drew his sword and lunged at Marshal Grentoszhov, who merely sidestepped the blow and drew his own. Taking a swing, his blade was parried by Lombard. A smirk crept upon Vladimir’s face.

“A Dersconi sword? You use a Dersconi sword? You were Guardsmen, then.” They continued to fight on the hilltop as the hail pounded them, the thunder playing the soundtrack for the encounter. Several Reichskamphen and Dersconi soldiers looked on as spectators to the duel, the lightning casting eerie lights on the fight.

“I felt it appropriate, Vlad. You Dersconi are excellent at destroying things. How better to kill you than with your own weapons?” Marshal Grentoszhov scoffed as Lombard cut at his shoulder. He quickly parried and reposted, slashing the Colonel in the arm.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you that you can’t fight the devil with his own creations?” A quick roundhouse kick to the side of the head knocked Lombard to the ground. Vladimir stomped his foot on Lombard’s stomach, dug in, and drove his sword into Nikolas’ chest with a bright, demonic grin. The last things the Colonel saw were the Dersconi soldiers massacring the Reichskamphen soldiers, and Marshal Grentoszhov taking Lombard’s baton to his vehicle.

'The air smells so clean!' commented Sergeant Hurtubise as he walked down the ramp of the transport plane. A Shock Trooper admired the lush meadow that lay just to the side of the tarmac. The New Moscow military airbase was alive with activity as over a dozen Aumanii military transport planes had touched down in the last hour. The Army is deploying to the Derscon with the explicit permission of Tsar Xavier and is doing so in force. Over a million troops will be rotated through the nation over the period of next three years. Though, their mission is uncertain as of yet, there are rumours that the troops will see heavy combat.

The men milled around the runways with little motivation. With the situation back home the way it is, few of the men understand why it would be relevant to the needs of the nation to send a million or more troops to a foreign country to help settle a civil dispute, especially when the rest of the Army was saddled with the dirty job of occupying a shattered world. One could assume Navarrone was deploying the Army to highlight to the international community the growing problems of the Dersconi nation, if only to keep their eyes away from him and Auman's growing humanitarian crisis at home.


OOC:

lol, bad post is bad.

Marshal Karaka Rakhamov, back from the Tundra, stood in the command tower overlooking the Aumanii deployment. He had just returned from the Tundra, so still wore his battle dress uniform. None of the control officers could look directly at him because of it, though, the metallic, jet black armour reflecting the light from the bright sun a little too well. It wasn't so bad from the back, the black and crimson cape blocking the armour from sight. Unfortunately for those around, while the helmet was the same colour as the cape, it had the same metallic finish as the regular armour. The crest plume was positioned right on top of the helmet without a gap, and made of horses hair, dyed black and crimson, and worn longitudinally, so that it touched the cape when he leaned his head back.

The airbase outside New Moscow rarely got this much activity, even though it was one of the largest, so naturally people were curious. However, with Xavier implementing the new Security Decrees, one risked his life to catch an unauthorized glimpse.

"Major Donnersonn, please report back to the Kremlin and inform Xavier that they're arriving in force and on schedule. He will likely wish to see Navarrone soon."

"Yes, sir." Once the major ran off, Karaka descended the tower with the rest of his staff (also clad in battle dress) to meet the commanding officers of the Aumanii soldiers already present.