NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is a war RP between my current nation Morrdh and my old one (if I can get it reactivited) Ruskkia.

Basic backstory is that Morrdh was once an island province of the former Ruskkie Empire, but due to a 'plague outbreak' in 1905 the Empire collapsed and Ruskkia was believed to be a deadland. However the Empire survived and rebuilt itself over the past century and is keen to regain full control of its former lands.

Morrdh's last on the list you see.

This RP is open to members of Macbee's Fedala Accord, anyone else who wishes to take part please TG and wait for a reply BEFORE posting.

Thank you.

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Eastern Morridane Coastline, 0504 Hours.

It was still quite early, the eastern horizon was slowly fading into lighter shade of blue to herald the forthcoming dawn that was still an hour or so away at best. It had been a rather chilly night with clear, star speckled skies with the wisp of a few clouds. A thin mist rose from the frost coated, grassy ridges and pooled into shallow dips and ditches. A light wind from off the sea blew the mist along, causing slow moving, rolling waves as it drifted across the empty and overgrown fields.

For Private Hartcliff it wasn't nothing special for it had been something he'd seen on many, countless nighttime sentry shifts. Plus he couldn't care less as he tried to get some warm into his hands so he could enjoy a smokes to while away the rest of his duty and then eventually climb into his bunk for a few hours kip. He had started fiddling with some matches when he heard the distant sound of thunder to which he cursed. 'Oh thats just bloody great, gots a storm blowing in an' I'm gonna get soaked!'

He managed to light up a cigertte when he heard the wind whistle as it picked up ahead of the coming storm, so it puzzled him when he looked up to see the mist and long-grass almost still. He got his answers a couple of seconds later when part of the trenchline and a gun battery to the south of him suddenly exploded in a massive fireball. He quickly dropped down to the ground as further explosions ripped through the section. He heard confused shouts and screams from countless men throughout the line as a barrage just simply rained down upon them.

Groaning Hartcliff eases himself up, slight dazed but still in one piece. Curious more than anything he peeks over the lip of the trenches and glances out to sea. A couple of nearby blasts causes him to duck before he got a good look, flashes a few miles out from seemed to be warships. The gun flash of the ships' turrets lit up the eastern sky like fireworks each time they fired, pounding away at the unsupecting soldiers and gun batteries.

Ah hell... Hartcliff curses just as a large drone from overhead is barely heard over the barrage.

Morrdun, Morridane Capital, 0915 Hours

What a difference a day makes. Mused Prime Minister Edmund Vermillion as he was escorted through the chaotic office and corridors of the Morridane War Office. Clerks and radio operators rushed back and forth as they shouted out messages and orders to make themselves heard over the dim of a constant background noise of telephones, telegraphs and frantic radio messages. A fair number of Despatch riders were either hanging around waiting for new messages or were quickly delivery reports and despatches from elsewhere.

Just to think that yesterday this was like a typical office building.

He was eventually led to a large room where Field Marshal Cathmore was standing over a large map of Morrdh's eastern coast as various personnel entered and left the room with an ever growing pile of messages and reports. Several markers, small blocks and various pen marks and notes covered a large part of the map, their pattern constently being changed by the Field Marshal as he slowly worked his way through the reports. He sighed after a moment and said out loud, "All bloody chaos, completely and utterly chaotic!"

"So it seems." Vermillion replied. "I was speaking to the Admiralty a short while ago, they're hastily throwing a fleet together to hit back."

"It'll be a case of 'too little, too late' then...we've had word that whoever the buggers are they've landed troops here...here and here.." Cathmore responded as he pointed out various locations on the map clustered with markers. "They've broken through in places and we're throwing in every single aviable Home Guard and militia unit we've got to stem the tide...though I reckon the bastards will be in range of Fellig in the next few days."

"How soon can we get troops up there?"

"Dunno...probably can get half an army to Fellig in about a week cross country, though 'em animates don't make things easy. Probably be looking at the country being spilt in half before we're even ready to start thinking about a counter-attack."

"I just hope our allies recieved our message in time Cathmore."

"So do I sir, so d-..YES? What is it?" Cathmore replied as a despatch rider hastily ran into the room madly waving a piece of paper. "S-sir, enemy planes headed this way!"

"Frickin' hell!" Cathmore curses as sirens start wailing outside...

Eastern Morridane Coastline, 0920 Hours.

It had been over four hours since the assualt had begun with a naval bombardment and Private Hartcliff was clueless as to who was actually winning. He had heard all sorts of things from runners and wireless operaters, '...the enemy has broken through in force...the enemy has been beaten back...reinforcements preparing to counter-attack...reinforcements enroute...reinforcements routed...Fellig is under attack...' Though nothing had been confirmed and everyone remained none the wiser, though it was clear that they had an invader to fight.

Hartcliff had been taking a quick breather duringa brief lull in the fighting, the surviving members of his Platoon still held this section of defenses and were expecting help from the militiamen of the local Home Guard units at some point, though they hadn't been heard from since an hour ago. He was taking a quick sip from a flask when one of the NCOs cries out. "To arms!"

Oh bloody hell! Hartcliff curses as he grabs a nearby rifle and then hurries over to the firing step as the enemy storm forwards to assualt the Morridane position once more. Hartcliff takes aim and pulls the trigger only for the rifle to click empty. Cursing he quickly ducks and pulls out a stripper clip to reload with only to find that the rounds wouldn't fit properly, he quickly realizes that he had picked up the wrong rifle. Looking round he spots a machine gun to one side currently not being used, though there was a few meters of open ground to run across in order to reach it.

A sudden cheer interrupted his thoughts, looking up he saw a couple of Home Guard units falling on the enemy's flank and ctaching them off-guard. Seizing his chance Hartcliff legs it over to the machine gun, gives it a quick check over before calling out. "Covering fire!"