Weccanfeld
14-10-2007, 20:38
Solekopno. A land ruled by idiots, some said. This was only partly true - in it's long history it had had some truly great men on it's throne. But now wasn't one of those times.
With a massive working class, and tiny middle and upper classes, one would expect this to be a breeding ground for communism. And it was. Groups sprung up across the country demanding revolution. Few actually took action, but all that was needed for great change was the right man in the right place, at the right time.
A nameless soldier holding a named gun crouched upon a roof, holding a rifle that the army had only recently accepted into it ranks. He lifted the butt to his shoulder, and looked down the sights into a window in which a ruler sat, writing a letter to his cousin to the south. Holding the cold bolt in his hand, he pulled back, and began to pull the trigger.
With a bang, the rifle thrust a bullet into the neck of the target. The bolt was pulled back again, and the rifle steadied. Another Bang, another bullet, this time burying itself in the head. And as blood covered the floor, seeping into the wooden planks of it, thus ended the life, and reign, of Tsar Slaboumnik Vladar the 8th.
The culprit was never caught, and no revolt started. The Tsar's death didn't spark unrest, as many had hoped would happen. The heir to the throne would keep his throne. His coronation was in two days. And yet, he was already showing his talent for rule.
His orders were simple, passed by letter to a military commander. Take the train and some soldiers to the Dolina valley. Cut down several miles of forest - burn if necessary. Build fences. Then let the settlers roll in.
"This is preposterous!" remarked the general to his aide. "The army is not a group of lumberjacks!"
"We do need the food, sir" He replied. "If we get it then we can buy more horses for the military. Those lorry things don't work in the winter, you know"
"I know, but, can't he simply pay lumberjacks to do it?"
"He could. But then again, we are subject to him..."
Away from the warm rooms of the war ministry, the sound of a train's horn echoed though the forest as trains brought troops from the populated west to the Dolina Valley - the home of one of the longest rivers in the world. Stopping abruptly just before the river, out of the train came troops, carrying axe, spade and gun to tame this harsh land. Trees were felled, forming a halo around the trees near the river, which were then put to the flame. Great plumes of smoke ascended into the skies, as solders began to erect small nests in which machine guns stood perched, ready to attack any incoming forces. Aeroplanes buzzed overhead, surveying the countryside, taking photo and looking for any activity around.
Several miles away, where the unmistakable marks of civilisation were more apparent, stood a battery of guns, ready to bombard any enemy. Their use was not advocated - shells damaged the ground, turning once arable land useless - but it may be necessary. Also ready was a good deal of troops, armed with both clip and pistol, ready to fight.
The smoky sky made it clear - this new monarch meant business. The timid rule of his forefathers had made sure that tattered flags and train were the only signs of Solekopno's rule. Now, Solekopno was to tame the wilderness - whether the tribes liked it, or not.
With a massive working class, and tiny middle and upper classes, one would expect this to be a breeding ground for communism. And it was. Groups sprung up across the country demanding revolution. Few actually took action, but all that was needed for great change was the right man in the right place, at the right time.
A nameless soldier holding a named gun crouched upon a roof, holding a rifle that the army had only recently accepted into it ranks. He lifted the butt to his shoulder, and looked down the sights into a window in which a ruler sat, writing a letter to his cousin to the south. Holding the cold bolt in his hand, he pulled back, and began to pull the trigger.
With a bang, the rifle thrust a bullet into the neck of the target. The bolt was pulled back again, and the rifle steadied. Another Bang, another bullet, this time burying itself in the head. And as blood covered the floor, seeping into the wooden planks of it, thus ended the life, and reign, of Tsar Slaboumnik Vladar the 8th.
The culprit was never caught, and no revolt started. The Tsar's death didn't spark unrest, as many had hoped would happen. The heir to the throne would keep his throne. His coronation was in two days. And yet, he was already showing his talent for rule.
His orders were simple, passed by letter to a military commander. Take the train and some soldiers to the Dolina valley. Cut down several miles of forest - burn if necessary. Build fences. Then let the settlers roll in.
"This is preposterous!" remarked the general to his aide. "The army is not a group of lumberjacks!"
"We do need the food, sir" He replied. "If we get it then we can buy more horses for the military. Those lorry things don't work in the winter, you know"
"I know, but, can't he simply pay lumberjacks to do it?"
"He could. But then again, we are subject to him..."
Away from the warm rooms of the war ministry, the sound of a train's horn echoed though the forest as trains brought troops from the populated west to the Dolina Valley - the home of one of the longest rivers in the world. Stopping abruptly just before the river, out of the train came troops, carrying axe, spade and gun to tame this harsh land. Trees were felled, forming a halo around the trees near the river, which were then put to the flame. Great plumes of smoke ascended into the skies, as solders began to erect small nests in which machine guns stood perched, ready to attack any incoming forces. Aeroplanes buzzed overhead, surveying the countryside, taking photo and looking for any activity around.
Several miles away, where the unmistakable marks of civilisation were more apparent, stood a battery of guns, ready to bombard any enemy. Their use was not advocated - shells damaged the ground, turning once arable land useless - but it may be necessary. Also ready was a good deal of troops, armed with both clip and pistol, ready to fight.
The smoky sky made it clear - this new monarch meant business. The timid rule of his forefathers had made sure that tattered flags and train were the only signs of Solekopno's rule. Now, Solekopno was to tame the wilderness - whether the tribes liked it, or not.