NationStates Jolt Archive

[This RP is to be considered an alternate reality, and has no impact on the actual existence of modern day Kroando.]

OOC: The description of your people reminds me of the Helghast from Killzone. On another note, is this an RP or simply a statement?

[This is an RP - but if you are going to join, I'd appreciate a message of your intent, unless you have had serious involvement with me in the past. As to Killzone, look at my tech - Honvorg Infantry Apparatus.]

OOC TAG for interest

The Temple of the White Hand - Quarter Mile Under the Surface

The glow of the eerie white flames in the room illuminated the hooded Priests of the Order as they slowly walked into the massive stone corridor, their heads never looking up, the beings never uttering a word as they walked forth, towards the massive pagan statue in the front of the room. The prisoners remained chained to the walls around the statue, their hands and feet restrained, mouths gagged. Their naked bodies quivered in fear as the Priests continued forth, their white cloaks standing in stark contrast to the darkness of the rest of the room. As the priests continued their march in, a voice began to speak in an unknown language from an unknown place. The voice chanted the phrase, "Oloroc nostom imaparagon... Oloroc nostom imparagon... Oloroc nostom...", the voice continued to chant the Old Kroandaron words, which had been long forgotten by the modern world... though no exact translation existed, the closest one could get to interpreting the words is, "Through blood the nation will be reborn."

The chanting continued and intensified until the priests finally stopped, each of them in front of a specific prisoner - all of whom shook in terror. The priests then removed their hoods, revealing beneath their cloaked masks horribly scarred, mutilated, burned faces which resembled not humans, but monsters. Their remained no natural skin upon their entire bodies, nor hair, nor any identifiable characteristics of a human. The captives shrieked in disgust, the women screaming for their lives as the holy men withdrew golden daggers from their belts and raised them, in unison, to their chests. They began to chant, pausing briefly, and chanting again for well over five minutes. And then it stopped. The priests began carving the prisoners apart, filling the temple with the screams only death can bring, as body parts were severed, pouring blood unto the grated floor below. The blood simply fell into a massive pool of the substance below as one organ at a time was removed from the body and placed upon the sacrificial alter.

It was only now that the twenty Korvacht soldiers moved, marching forward towards the idol in their Honvorg Infantry Apparatuses, halting when they had reached a predetermined point before the statue. The priests then began chanting once again, and slowly made their way over to the twenty men, surrounding them. They carried large pitchers of dark red blood, and promptly began pouring it over the heads of the men, covering them in the substance. They chanted as they did so, stopping only to drop to their knees and pray. As they rose, they issued an order to the men, whom immediately obeyed, walking over to the alter and standing in front of the specifically placed hearts of the now mutilated prisoners. The helmets of the suites they wore were removed, revealing the brutalized faces of the soulless men below. The helmets, still dripping with blood, were set down upon the alter, and after another order, the soldiers picked up the hearts and took large bites from them, covering their faces in thick gushing blood before putting them back down and replacing their helmets. The priests, each carrying a white hood, stood behind the soldiers, and attached the white hood to the helmet of the HIA, symbolizing their completion of their training. These men were now Exemplars, the religious and military elite of White Hand... and the new Order of Kroando.

OOC: This honestly did give me a nightmare last night. I went to bed right after reading it and had a dream I was getting attacked by zombies after a nuclear holocaust, and the people were all yellow eyed and all...it was weird. Just thought I'd let ya know;)

[B]Tevlar, Grand Marshall Klague's Military Compound

Korvacht Legionnaires patrolled the ramparts of the massive steel-concrete walls, watching over the desolated city as the screams of civilians filled the air. Grand Marshall Klague's massive fortress sat atop one of the seven hills that made up Tevlar, and remained as one of the last signs of civilization in the city. The area surrounding the compound was covered in rotting corpses, some the infected, most simply civilians trying to escape the infected, whom were gunned down by the .50 Cal towers dotting the walls. The compound was the last secure place in Tevlar, and arguably all Antarctika, boasting a 4000 man garrison, over 200 guns, and nearly 100 armored vehicles of various sorts. The surroundings were covered in barb wire and anti-personnel mines which ate up most of the infected attacks... however as time wore on, ammunition stocks began running dangerously low. Having to gun down over 100,000 infected a day took a large portion of the remaining magazines - especially with no possibility of reinforcements or resupply.

The Kroandons here were some of the only not 'changed' by the CL-666, due to the fact that the compound was air tight, and those on the surface were constantly in their HIA's. These men were the last remanents of the now deceased Lord Malthus' power, holding on to dear life in the chaos that was now Kroando.

North Sector... North Sector... I have massive infected movements towards base... repeat, North Sector, thousands... filling the streets... thousands... request artillery bombardment of 072841b204aa1239...

And within moments shells began raining down north of the compound, approximately five miles north, covering the area in fragmentation and incendiary rounds, tearing apart the hordes of infected as they rushed forth. However it was far to little in comparison to the vast numbers of the horde moving forward. Though Klague's Garrison had no way of telling, there were over a million of the infected charging forth, bloodthirsty, savage beasts, charging towards the high walls of the fortress. The closer they came, the more intense the artillery became, as the 88mm mortars opened up the blood covered the streets, the limbs of the infected covering the landscape. Soon they encountered the mine fields, blowing apart even more, ripping apart the infected masses. However it seemed as if the effectiveness of such weapons was diminished, as only direct hits were capable of killing the beasts, for shrapnel hits, though painful, did not always kill - and pain was of no concern to the monsters of Tevlar City. The barbed wire fences proved little of an obstacle, cutting the bodies, slowing the horde, but overall, doing nothing to inflict casualties.

The horde was immense. Tens... hundreds of thousands charged forward, a rage filled lust for death in their eyes as they rushed towards the thirty meter high walls. A line of Korvacht Legionnaires manned the ramparts, and dozens more the dual .50cal turrets... the guns opened up at seventy meters, ripping into the hordes with deadly efficiency. Thousands dropped in the first thirty seconds of the charge, but still the beasts came. The closer the savages got, the more fell. The five ID-57s and two Krakens had a field day, mowing down the attackers, knocking out massive chunks of the enemy every minute the advance continued. However as the time wore on, and the hordes did not cease their attacks, ammunition became a serious concern. By now the beasts had reached the walls, and though unable to scale them, as they died, piles became mounds, mounds became hills... hills became ramps. EastCHN grenades burned massive portions of the mob, but still, with over a million of the enemy, and under 4000 Legionnaires... it was a difficult situation. By the end of the hour, the Korvacht was reduced to fighting off the still strong charge with pistols and machetes. By hour two, the massive mounds of infected dead, though burning, allowed the following monsters to rush the ramparts. The fighting was intense, with the Legionnaires immune to their biting and scratching, but still vulnerable to being tackled off the ramparts. Limbs were flying as the men in the Honvorg Infantry Apparatuses stood against hundreds of thousands of what used to be the civilian population of the city.

By hour three, Klague ordered the almost lost ramparts to be surrendered, and for all Legionnaires to pull back to 'the ring' around the concrete bunkers and buildings that made up the surface of the compound. The tanks, depleted of ammo, set about running over the enemy, crushing them beneath their heavy treads... encountering problems however when the treads began getting jammed on the limbs of the dead. Before long, the tanks, either out of gas or stuck, simply sat, immune to the hordes outside, but incapable of contributing. The Legionnaires on the other hand went about fighting, losing roughly fifty total to the 400,000 of the infected. As time dragged forth, roughly eight hours in, and 300 Legionnaires dead to the 450,000 of the enemy, the unimaginable happened. Jets overhead dropped canisters of VX Gas, massacring the hordes, dropping over 500,000 in less than fifteen minutes.

The Legionnaires, protected by their HIA's, stood in utter confusion, remanning the body covered ramparts. In the distance there could be seen thousands of Korvacht marching forwards over the bodies of the infected, supported by dozens of Krakens and ID-57's. The men of the base cheered, ignorant to the fact that these men were not friends. The confusion of why these men were wearing white hoods was answered before long as the 'reinforcements' overwhelmed the base, taking control and imprisoning the men stationed there.

Out of ammunition and armed with little more than swords, Marshall Avicon was sitting in Klague's chambers within the hour. "Marshall Klague... it has been to long. I am glad to see you survived, I was worried the bomb in the Governance Sector would have been to close and... well, you're all safe and alive, thats what matters.", Avicon spoke, running his hand over his bald, scarred, pale head - mutated by the CL-666.

Klague looked at the man in disgust, he having not been victim to the effects of the CL-666 due to the nature of the bunker. "You mean... you are responsible for this Avicon? What madness is this?!", questioned Klague, standing from his seat.

"Klague... please sit... there is much we must discuss.", Avicon assured him, calming his nerves with his steady demeanor. "We are making a new Kroando. One free of the corruption, filth and scum that covered the nation you once knew. Malthus is dead - we are now in charge. You have an option. Join us, save yourself and your men. Become a part of the New Order, a part of the Kroando of tomorrow... or die - along with all your men."

Klague sat, contemplating the offer for some time. After what seemed like an eternity, the words, "I will.", were all that need be said. Avicon smiled and motioned to one of his men standing outside the door, whom quickly entered and applied a gas mask linked to a tank to Klague. Klague struggled for a moment, but was subdued by a pair of men. The knob on the gas tank turned, and the CL-666 filled his lungs. Frantic coughing ensued, along with a struggle to tear off the mask... but within a minute of so, the mask was taken off. Klague lay on the ground coughing up blood. The next day when he woke, his hair had fallen out - his skin taken on a deadly pale color, yellow taken the color of his eyes - and his gums, they would bleed sporadically for the rest of his life. He was now one of them... as were his men...

OOC: Hypothetically, if the Vantanians took back their land stolen from them in the Vante-Kroandon War, what would happen?

[Right now, each of those are independent territories operating outside of the control of anyone (the military forces operate independently)... so you would attack them first. After that... well... who knows?]

OOC: Link to an OOC thread? If not, I am expressing my intent and am reserving for post. I have an embassy in the capital and this can get quite interesting, as they would have gone into quarantine procedures and donned biosuits.

[Right now, each of those are independent territories operating outside of the control of anyone (the military forces operate independently)... so you would attack them first. After that... well... who knows?]

OOC: What are the chances I'd win, and what would the Kroandon reaction be? Would they try to get them back eventually?

OOC Thread (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=13710478#post13710478)

The Totalitarian State had watched with muted interest when Kroando seemed to, for seemingly no reason at all, self-destruct. The Intelligence Commissariat had quickly delivered a conclusion within two weeks.

Kroando was gutted as a power of any kind. The nuclear explosions, epidemics, and looting had inflicted damage that would take centuries to recover from. The IC also estimated that the vast majority of survivors would lack the specialised skills needed to rebuild a modern nation.

Thus, while continuing to monitor radio assets in Kroando, spy sattelites were diverted away from their orbits over,,, those sattelites could be better used elsewhere.

Three Weeks Later - Scolar

"Colonel, 077 reporting... all infected appear deceased, refugee numbers are mounting. All clear for full advance...", grumbled the Korvacht Legionnaire as he reported the situation in Scolar to his commanding officer through his CommLink. Hurvic continued walking down the barren street, firing the occasional round into the rotting infected corpse. Civilians now lined the streets, bald, pale and confused. The panic was stemmed only by the presence of the feared Korvacht, whom, marching down the streets, informed the populous of the situation through massive megaphones attached to the Kraken II's.

"People of Kroando - Remain Calm. We have been attacked by foreign powers through nuclear and biological subversion. International terrorists have infiltrated our nation, but we have regained control. The White Hand, and Marshall Avicon have reestablished order in all eight cities and are vigilantly pursuing the vile perpetrators of this act. It is time for us to come together, to rebuild our nation and cleanse ourselves of the filth that has corrupted our society. Supplies and provisions will be provided.", the megaphone roared as Legionnaires tossed packages of food from the tops of tanks and backs of trucks to the multitudes on the streets.

Refugees were rounded up by the millions and sent to various 'Adaptation Centers' set up throughout the cities. These centers were converted complexes made to reeducate the survivors, to prepare them for the future, and to ensure their allegiance to the White Hand and the New Order. The Adaptation Centers began by clarifying the situation, by telling the people exactly what had happened - why their lives had been so radically altered - why the majority of the nation was now dead. They were of course, not told the truth.

According to the reeducation, international terrorists, jealous of the success of Kroando, attacked the nation with atomic and biological weapons, which they had been massing for years. Due to the increasing decadence of Kroandon Society, and the weakening of the government's resolve to security and prosperity - the military was unable to prevent the attacks. The Gods also, angry and the weakness of the Kroandon people, allowed the attacks to wreak horror upon the nation. Kroando was hurt, but not yet dead. This was the inherent fact that everything rested upon. That although Kroando was bleeding, it could still save itself. However it would be hard, very hard - and it would take the full allegiance of all Kroandons, and constant work to rebuild. If the nation failed to rebuild, to make itself great, another attack would hit Kroando, and this one would be more final.

The next stage continued the brainwashing, showing the horrors of what had happened, simply overwhelming the populace with emotion, forcing them into a state in which they could not possibly think critically of the situation. Blame was cast, the situation made one of life or death. Marshall Avicon was depicted as the saving grace of Kroando, the strong leader who had wrested Kroando from death's arms. The situation was dark, and this was made very clear to the survivors. Life or death, the difference was but a gust of wind - only could Avicon and the strength of Kroando prevent the apocalypse from returning.

The two week program ended with a plan for reconstruction, which called for mass reproduction on the behalf of all Kroandons. Unemployment had disappeared as all skilled laborers found jobs in their respective areas, and the unskilled in physical labor, the act of simply rebuilding the cities. Mandatory 14 hour work days had been instituted Monday through Friday, with a 9 hour day on Saturday, and an 8 hour day on Saturday. Those whom opted to work on Saturday and Sunday full time were paid extra in food and supplies - as the Kroandon Credit had collapsed on the domestic level. Those not opting to work full time on either Saturday or Sunday were often ridiculed and accused of sloth, laziness or even treason. One day every two months was given off to each laborer, dubbed the 'Day of Rest', there were six per year, and were times or rest and relaxation. However no measure of brainwashing could do what had already been done. Three weeks of living in a Post-Apocalyptic world inhabited by mutant savages. The terror... the horror... it had warped the minds of the 3 Billion Survivors into a completely different light. Their minds were under the power of the new administration.

Though things were bad, they were not quite as bad as many would assume. For instance, the power plants of Kroando, built to withstand nuclear weapons, were unscathed, leaving the cities out of power only because of the breaking of power junctions - which were relatively easily repaired. Furthermore the arms industry was left for the most part, in tact. The agricultural subterranean farms also were left in production, producing excess food to add to the already large stockpiles. The military was crippled, yet in addition to what remained (the entirety of the Marinok and over half of the Korvacht), there was the ability to make much, much more.

Work in Kroando began - with an urgency as had never been seen before.

1190 A.H. - Virticon City

Vel Guard Avicon, the savior of Kroando stepped forth to the massive podium in Virticon City's Victory Square, a large smile upon his worn face. Over the last ten years, much had changed. Kroando was no longer the smoking ruin it once was - it was a new nation born from the ice. The last decade had yielded unprecedented growth and repair to the torn nation to the point where one would not only never suspect the horrible damage that had been done - but would think the nation had gone through some sort of economic boom. There were no burned out buildings, no rotting corpses on the streets. Industry was thriving and what was even more - there were 6 billion people living in the country. Not only did the mass reproductive program work to the utmost degree - the Kroandon immigration program had brought in millions... whom after 'purification', looked and acted just like all other Kroandons. The modern age had turned, and Kroando was right there with it.

"People of Kroando...", Avicon began, his voice ringing out throughout the mega cities. "I come to you today, as I have on so many other days over the last decade...", the man, regarded as the second Kroando, raised his hands to calm the roaring applause of the crowds, "I come to you today not to ask for your continued perseverance in the struggle... I do not ask for longer work hours... I am not asking that another building be constructed, or that you sacrifice a meal for the good of the nation. I am not asking that you turn off the heat in the dead of our coldest winters, or that you bring your sons to the construction site to help finish digging out the gutters. I am not here to ask your daughters to give up sleeping for a night so that they may knit clothing for our brave workers, or so that they may help knead dough. I am not here to ask you give up your days off, or for you to skip bathing privileges. I am not here to ask you for material donations to the labor force - or for volunteers to go and work out in the wastes."

Avicon paused, looking down, reflecting over the last decade in which he had pushed the Kroandon people to the limit - demanding of them the utmost loyalty, constant work in rebuilding the nation, the sacrifice of food, time, energy and sleep... "I come to you today to announce a victory. Today we celebrate the tenth anniversary of the Apocalypse, and our victory over it. Our brothers and sisters abroad returned home, aiding their mother nation in its time of need. Foreign peoples, wishing to join the glorious Kroandon nation, now stand next to you, identical to you in every way. We have rebuilt our country, we have made it anew, we have cleared away the ashes and made a new place - a pure place.", Avicon roared out over the applause of the crowds. "We have endured the cold. We have endured hunger. We have endured all that life could possibly throw at us."

"It was not easy... many stood against the direction our nation moved in. However they were swept aside, and the will of the people to survive was fulfilled.", Avicon paused once more, attempting to calm the millions who roared in the city.

"People of Kroando... we have won."

[This is basically the end of the story. Side stories may still occur between the reconstruction years, but for all intents and purposes, most RP will occur after this point.]