Ethalria Will Never Rise Againr

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1

Rivendale, Faethalria

Wiping the sweat off of his brow, Eric walked as inconspicuous as he could manage through the historic Rivendale square, his heavy duffel bag weighing his right side down and bouncing ceaselessly against his bruised hips. Pretending to observe the monuments and renown Ethalrian architecture like the hundreds of summer tourists around him, he checked his watch to see how much time he had left. 30 minutes longer with the duffel bag slung over his shoulder and he would need to visit a hospital in order to survive for longer than a week. He was cutting it close.

Walking across the square a little further, Eric came to the front of the imperial war museum, a center of Ethalria’s millenia long history and a showcase of its jingoistic, warlike culture from 100BC to present. Gaggles of tourists and locals had gathered along the imposing masonry of the museum in groups, often retreating into the crevasse to escape the summer heat which bore down on the square. Eric mimicked them, sliding to the back of one of the arches closer to the entrance and letting the duffel bag fall to the floor beside him. He checked his watch once more, seeing he only had 20 minutes left until he would have been incapacitated. He took a moment to lean back against the stone wall to fight off a wave of nausea, and opened his mobile phone. Sending a single quick text message, he stood back upright and walked off nonchalantly, leaving the duffel bag lying against the side of the museum, where it was quickly hidden from view by a group of tanned tourists in summer wear.

However, as he crossed over the square towards the road to catch a bus away from the soon-to-be hot zone, a wave of nausea many orders of magnitude more intense than the previous few overcome Eric’s senses and left him staggering, his vision blurred as he struggled to not collapse in full view of several hundred people. He mustered his strength and continued walking toward a waiting bus. Thankfully there were no panicked crowds nor any police or security personnel chasing after him. It had gone perfectly so far, and thinking about it had plastered a giddy smile across his face, as his heartbeat raced with the excitement.

Eric stepped on the bus that would take him back to his cheap hotel room on the outskirts of the city, quickly buying a ticket from the disinterested driver and relegating himself to the rear seats. Moments later, the bus pulled away from the stop and away from the square. Checking his watch once more, he saw there were only 3 minutes remaining. He had won. Dizzyness overtook him, this time literally, and Eric soon fell unconscious. Some time later, he awoke dazed and slumped on the floor of the bus, quite recently too given the intensity of the pain in his head. He felt strangely fresh considering he’d blacked out, and levered himself back up onto his seat to see what was happening around him. The moment he poked his head up over the seat in front, he saw the flashing glare of several police cars, and the clatter as several armed police officers charged down the gangway towards him.

“SUSPECT LOCATED!” screamed the primary officer, who ran up to Eric, who feebly smiled. “HANDS UP, DROP EVERYTHING!”

Eric complied, all the while holding his insidious smile. “I trust you found my package,” he laughed, speaking in Obertonian which the officer likely couldn’t understand. Another wave of nausea and fatigue knocked him down like a full broadside, leaving him flat on the ground and with vomit dribbling from his mouth as the officer jammed his arms behind his back.

[hr]

Many people glanced at the duffel bag as it lay inconspicuously against the museums grandiose masonry, though most chose to ignore it. Eventually, it caught the eye of a young woman who was standing with her family along the wall of the museum where it was placed. She tentatively considered investigating before asking her sister for a second opinion. Having previously almost fallen victim to a Prussian suitcase nuke, she was much more vigilant than her, and as soon as she saw the large duffel bag propped up against the wall her phone instantly flew to her phone to dial the local police.

“Police, what’s your emergency?”

“There’s a suspicious bag lying outside the war museum, I think it could be a bomb.”

“Could you describe the bag please?”

“A cougar brand black duffel bag, it looks full.”

“Did you see who placed it there?”

“No, but my sister says its been there for at least five minutes.”

“Alright, a team has been dispatched and will be there shortly. Please can you try to evacuate the area and inform any security personnel or police officers you can see. Stay calm, and try to avoid panicking, okay?”

“Alright, tha-”

But as she was about to cut the call, the electronic timer within the duffel bag counted down to zero. This activated a detonator stuck within a cylinder of industrial high explosive which suddenly became a hot, rapidly expanding cloud of high-pressure gas. The shockwave created by the explosives soon met a tightly packed array of loose metal which was promptly blown outwards at extremely high velocity, turning it into deadly shrapnel which tore through the bodies of the sisters and their family, as well as anyone unfortunate enough to be near the bomb. Shrapnel made of highly radioactive waste fuel rich in fission products. Fission products which were now dispersed across the historic Rivendale square.

Whilst it was powerful, the blast was mostly deflected off of the granite walls of the museum. Its windows were not so lucky, the combination of shockwaves and fragmentation shattering the glass and peppering the exhibits and visitors within with high-speed shards. Dozens of people in the busy square were killed instantly, and dozens more fell victim to injuries caused by the fragments of radioactive metal and debris from the blast. Inundated with a barrage of calls, the emergency services were rapidly mobilised to the scene to tend to the many wounded. The bomb disposal team arrived not long after, armoured personnel rushing to the epicenter of the detonation to investigate the devastation. One woman on the team swept a geiger counter across the debris, pausing over a piece of dark metal shrapnel amongst the pieces of shattered brick and glass. A wall of clicks erupted from the detector and she instinctively recoiled backwards.

“I’ve found radioactive material at the bomb site, it was a dirty bomb!” She barked into her two way radio. “We need specialists on site ASAP, this is an emergency situation!”

2

UNAC headquarters, Aura, Emberwood Coast

“Thank you everyone for coming to this summit with such short notice, though I’m sure we can all agree this situation requires as rapid a response as possible.” Spoke Justin Valeria, the Faethalrian representative. “I’d like to start with a briefing.”

“On January 30th, two terrorist attacks were undertaken on Ethalrian soil. Both utilised radioactive ‘dirty bombs’ and both were undertaken by Kostoria-Obertonian nationals that are members of a known terror group, the Southern Auroran Front. Originally a political party that opposed to Ethalria, the aftermath of the Auroran-Pacific war has seen the SAF project its dangerous ideology using violence. Their attacks have left two areas off limits to civilians until such time as all of the nuclear material used is removed.

“As you may know, President Jane Augusta launched a probe within Kostoria Obertonia through the Auroran Security Agency to determine the source of the radioactive material in the devices used. During the investigation, its was quickly discovered that several documents related to the relocation of waste fuel from the Nuremkastel nuclear power station had been falsified, and that approximately nine kilograms of waste uranium that was being transferred to a safe site elsewhere in the country are unaccounted for. Samples of the material from the devices used in the attack have shown compositions of isotopes identical to that of waste fuel from the reactor, and investigators have come to the conclusion that the SAF sourced the material from the Nuremkastel reactor site. Attempts to arrest those accountable for the documents have failed, as the individuals sited do not exist on any official records.

“It is therefore clear that a multinational effort is required to combat terrorism in Kostoria-Obertonia and ensure the safety of its citizens. A joint response of Auroran nations and international anti-terrorist forces as outlined by president Jane Augusta in her statement after the attack is necessary to remove the groups embedded within the nation. We hope that the Kostoria-Obertonian government approves of this course of action, and any nations or alliances willing to assist us in this endeavour will be greatly appreciated.”

3

There was a long pause. The many faces around the room began talking amongst themselves. Of those present, President Gertrude Amaliadotter and President Lupe Juentines were sat next to each other. They had been in talks before the emergency meeting in Aura, and had agreed that, besides their differences, it was an organised and well devised terrorist attack on Ethalrian soil and that they needed to come together in this time of need for their ex-fellow nationals.

President Lupe Juentines stood up to speak.

“I speak on behalf of Vothetria and Thalria in my next statement, we have discussed and have decided to pledge our physical and monetary support in this multinational effort to combat antiterrorism in the aforementioned country for the safety and security for the citizens of their country and their neighbours.”

As the President took her seat, Walter then proceeded to stand up.

“Great Morstaybishlia will be helping the funding of this project for the long-term future. Any form of instability in this continent could lead to catastrophe. It has happened twice before, it will not happen again.” he slammed his mighty fist on the table as he sat down.

4

Valentines Day, 2019
Florist Walk, Karinthus city centre, Vothetria

It was a warm summers evening in Karinthus. The city centre had been closed for traffic for the evening to allow for traditional valentines day culture. The streets were hard to navigate and all pubs, restaurant  and cafes were swamped with customers. In the higher more expensive side of the city, it was quieter, but nontheless more busy as usual. For most people, valentines day was a bank holiday, and luckily for Saoirse Mambat, it was one of the only days she would get to spend with her husband. For most of the rest of the year she would be helming the Vice Presidency of Vothetria.

Not many people knew her as much as her superior. When Ethalria fell and the four Ethal nations formed, Lupe Juentines was the woman figure that emerged into the limelight. It meant for her that she wouldn’t be spotted in public as much by people that knew her.

Her and her husband Fabian Marzi had just finished a four course meal in the Flazelle, one of the most expensive and luxurious brasseries in the country. Its high cuisine rating bought in even the most noble and richest of people from far and wide. Whilst somewhat controversial in current Auroran politics, it has portraits of all of the most famous visitors, including like likes of Galfridus in 1986, Amalda Harimann, who visited in 2013 and most recently the Caliph Esma of Packilvania in late 2018.

The two walked down the grand entrance to the street. It had begun to quieten down, but even that was over exaggurated. It was still extremely busy. Their next visit would be the Petunia Gardens, but first, a visit to the local for a bottle of Oglota grown hobsti wine. Even some of the most devoted Ethalrian nationals couldn’t resist a classic in Morstaybishlian tradition. They smiled and thanked the doorman as they exited.

Saoirse paused for a moment. She just needed to check all of her important belongings were in her handbag. Whilst she was doing that, her husband Fabian looked around and up the street. There was something offputting, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. Then it dawned on him. Tire screeching. Screaming, shouting. It was very far away, but even Saoirse’s ears tweaked. Before they even moved, a white 17 plate van sped around the corner. It was spinning everywhere except the road. The screaming was more obvious now, and both their eyes widened. The van was on the sidewalks and pavements. A sudden nervous realisation hit Saoirse as to the severity of the situation. People were getting run over, and people were dying. Saoirse couldn’t help but scream and start running, holding her other halfs hand. The van sped past them on the other side of the pavement, hitting half a dozen unlucky people on the way. The van clipped the side of a building and came to a direct stop. The engine was overheating. Saoirse and Fabian quickly began running in the direction the van came from. She looked over her shoulder. The scene had completely changed. The back doors of the van was open, and there were seven men in the street, all wearing black bulletproof vests and stabbing people. It made Saoirse scream in horror.

Three men caught up with the couple. Saoirse knew that they recognised her by their evil grins. They tackled them to the ground. One of them held Saoirse whilst it took two to hold her husband. She was screaming and kicking but she just wasn’t strong enough to shrug the man off. A forth man walked over cynically. His evil smile distracted Saoirse. She broke free of the trance. She couldn’t believe what happened next. The fourth man had unveiled a big blade and had began stabbing her lover in the stomach. Once, twice, three times, four, five, six. Before he could continue, police skrted around the same corner the terrorists came. By this time, the street was almost completely empty of people, except those unfortunate enough to have died or have been seriously injured by these men, and those numbers were in the twenties. The two men let go of Fabian and tossed him to the ground. The fourth man and the first man, who was holding Saoirse, ran behind some cover. The police were armed and fired shots. Out of nowhere, the terrorists shot back. They knew the police would come, and they wanted to cause as much damage as possible. They killed two officers. More of the men who had been on the other side of the street came to aid the four. Now there was the total of seven.

More police turned up, and it was a shootout between a growing police force and well practiced terrorists. Saoirse and her injured husband were in the crossfire, laying on the floor in desperation. He was pale. Whilst clutching her head, she crawled over to him. She layed over him to protect him, but there was nothing she could do. With six entry wounds, he was bleeding out fast. She just laid there, clutching him; sobbing.

One by one the men were taken down. More officers arrived to the scene. Radios called out for ambulances, and sure they arrived. But for many of those injured, it was too late. As the last three terrorists dwindled, more people arrived at the scene. Helicopters flew overhead, the local news outlets sharing the breaking news. But it was not over yet. The last man was injured, shot in the leg and was almost fully incapable of moving it. The way he limped to the van under fire was almost superhuman. He was shot again and again in the arm and chest, but the shot didn’t enter his body. That was their whole idea. It winded him, but back home he had training against this. He pushed on until he was no longer visible in the back. Fire stopped, and for a second there was a moment of silence. Saoirse was addressed to by medical personnel and the two were briskly rushed off in the back of an ambulance. As the police surrounded the van, they bellowed for him to come out. They had lost many officers and were going to take no prisoners. It’s just the way Ethalrians work.

One officer was daring enough to open up the door. Two officers unloaded a whole clip of their machine guns down through the open doors. Satisfied, they walked towards the vehicle.

The bomb inside the vehicle, not known till now, set an explosion powerful enough to knock the closely orbiting helicopter out of the sky, and set the nearby buildings on fire. The entire street erupted in flames and smoke, wavy fires engulfed everything.

There were going to be no survivors.

5

At the summit

Polly Newman, the Axdelian representative to the summit, rose to speak.

“The Axdelian government is committed to the support of anti-terrorist efforts on our continent, especially those who seek to divide us in this new era of peace. We will support Faethalria both financially and militarily in removing the terrorist threat in Kostoria-Obertonia.”

[hr]

Valentines day

A video is released onto various social media platforms and sent to all major news services on the continent. It begins with three figures standing around a small podium, each one wearing a beret and full camouflaged body armour. Two bear modern assault rifles and sport an arsenal of tactical weaponry strapped to their combat webbing. Several Kostoria-Obertonian flags are draped behind them as the backdrop.

“This is a message to all peoples of this mighty continent from the Southern Auroran Front,” said the middle figure, occasionally glancing down at a script hidden by the podium. “We fully and proudly take responsibility for the attack in Vothetria, as well as the bombings in Faethalria earlier. We carried out these so called ‘heinous’ attacks for the sake of all of the victims of Ethalrian aggression, and to show the divided states that they have no place in the modern world. For millennia, south aurora has suffered heavily from their parasitic legacy, and they continue to be the greatest threat to peace and order on Aurora. Even now, Faethalria has vowed itself and her despicable allies to violate Kostotia-Obertonias sovereignty and invade our country. This will not stand. We will not have Ethalrian aggressors trample our hallowed turf, and we will fight fearlessly till the last man in our defense of the fatherland where the government has failed. We officially declare war upon any nation or aggressor that supports Faethalria, may they die in vain.

“Long Live Kostoria-Obertonia! Glory to the Southern Auroran Front!”

6

At the summit…

Alyona Petrovavich, the Chancellor of Tuvaltastan, stood up. The current Tuvalt UNAC Representative was also present, but the Chancellor insisted that this summit was too important.

“As the eastern neighbor to Kostoria-Obertonia, our nation is willing to work jointly with the recognized Kostorian-Obertonian government, financially and militarily, to snuff out the so-called ‘Southern Aurora Front’ and their leaders. Peace may be difficult, but it is within reach. We mustn’t lose sight of the goal of prosperity on our little slice of Urth my fellow Aurorans.”

She sat back down. She knew fighting fire with fire was the only way this would be resolved.

7

Rivendale, Faethalria

Jane Augusta and her cabinet had gathered in one of the conference rooms of the Faethalrian state building, talking quietly as they waited for the screen at one end of the table to connect with their Kostoro-Obertonian counterparts in Nuremkastel. After a short while, the screen began showing a live feed of Karl Strasser, president of K-O, and his ministers.

“Ah! thank you for joining us President Strasser,” Jane began, . “It’s a shame we couldn’t meet face to face right now, I would really prefer to, though time is short in supply.”

“I feel the same way madam Augusta, we have already been in contact with the Axdelian and Tuvalti delegation concerning the logistical procedure in securing the reactor site and extracting the remaining radioactive material to a safe site.”

“Excellent, I’m glad that’s a high priority. I’ve arranged an agenda of item’s for us to discuss, it should cover everything necessary, though I’ve set aside time for anything else you’d like to discuss if needed.”

“Very well, where do you want to begin…”

For a few hours, the two parties ran through the lengthy agenda, discussing everything that was jointly known about the Southern Auroran Front; their leaders, their positions, their motives, and the opposition the joint counter-terrorist coalition force would be expected to encounter. The group had apparently embedded themselves in the north of the nation, having established compounds, tunnel complexes, and even taking over several abandoned AIW bunkers and in the area. They were believed to have amassed an arsenal of modern arms primarily via dark web arms dealers, and a number of armoured technicals with mounted weapons.

“-with Faethalrian coordination, our armoured divisions could then encircle the insurgents within the indicated area, after which point it will be a matter of weeks or even days before they are forced to capitulate,” explained Strasser, his minister of defence nodding in agreement.

“Great, that’s sorted then, we’ve hit the end of the agenda,” said Jane, flipping a page in the document. “We have no further comments to add, but was there anything else you have to ask before we execute the operation?”

“Yes, just a couple of extra concerns. The first one is that I want UNAC oversight throughout. I haven’t forgotten why your nation was quartered in two years. Preferably, I’d like all of your movements filed with the Auroran Security Agency as they occur.”

“You needn’t fear, that was a key pact of the anti-terrorist coalition after all.”

“Good, that’s reassuring. Secondly, I will not have these radicals threaten our democratic process, campaigning has been resumed and elections will continue as planned in September. Unfortunately, allegations have been made against the Nationalist party of association with the Southern Auroran Front. Thus after the conclusion of this meeting I will put forward an executive order barring their candidate from running in the election until his innocence can be proven. It’s an extreme measure, but I’m sure you’ll agree the circumstances call for it.”

“I would do the same in your position, and I’m glad you’re taking measures internally to halt their influence spreading.”

“Thanks. Well madam Augusta that’s all I have to say, thanks for your time. If everything’s sorted We’ll begin mobilising to the rally points and await your mark to begin the operation.”

“Thank you for your time too, President Strasser, I have nothing more to add other than I pray we are successful in this endeavour.”

“We shall speak again at some point, God bless us," he finished, as the feed cut, ending the call.

8

North-West Kostoria-Obertonia

Circling lazily high above a patch of hilled forest adjacent to a wide stretch of fields dotted with grazing livestock, a small drone swept its electronic gaze across the landscape. It’s infrared eye focused on a fenced off area containing several low buildings, garages and corrugated iron barracks, zooming in on a modern pickup truck with a missile launcher mounted on the back. Insurgents wandered around like ants, some on patrol around the compound, some standing guard by the gateways, others smoking and chatting as they prepared for the arrival of Faethalrian and Vothetrian infantry divisions from the North. Hidden behind a wall of trees, it would be impossible to discern from anywhere but air, a fact the drone would take advantage of as its painted the site for destruction with its laser guidance system.

Mere minutes later, as three technicals were just about to drive out of the compound, the site was hit with four 1000 pound guided bombs dropped by a sortie of Faethalrian multirole fighters roaring overhead. The vehicles were destroyed immediately by the immense blast, and to the armoured fighting vehicles and soldiers lying in wait 5 miles from the site, this was the signal to begin their assault. Like ants out of woodwork, insurgents hiding along the plain peeked back at their base of operations to observe what had happened, more vigilant individuals grasping for their walkie-talkies. It did not matter though, for they all soon noticed the formation of armoured vehicles prowling along the fields toward the wood, and opened fire with all they had. Armed with 40mm cannons and supplemented by infantry wielding airburst grenade launchers, the insurgents were quickly decimated. Several helicopter gunships swooped in from the horizon like angry wasps, joining the onslaught. Still circling above, the drone suddenly detected the intense infrared flare of a MANPADS launching on one of the helicopters that had left itself vulnerable. The gunship dropped a flurry of chaff and flares, distracting the missile long enough for it to narrowly miss. Within moments, the drone’s targeting laser had painted the insurgent with the MANPADS, and one of the fighter planes responded with a rapid strafe from its revolving gun, leaving nothing but carnage in its wake.

Before long, the insurgent compound had been reached by the Faethalrian and Vothetrian forces, finding it smoldering and evacuated. Aerial reconnaissance had found that the remaining insurgents had retreated through the woods and through the village of Broenham to a previously abandoned Auroran Imperial War bunker 6 miles West. The Armoured vehicle divisions continued to pursue the retreating insurgents, running straight into an ambush armed with anti-tank weaponry. Several vehicles had their armour pierced by HEAT missiles and were destroyed, however as soon as one vehicle was fired upon, the insurgents using the launchers would be hailed by grenade-launcher fire and supporting strafes from the circling fighter jets. Villagers heard the intense crackle of gunfire, many panicking and running from their homes straight into the view of Faethalrian and Vothetrian forces. A shout followed by the distorted pop of an airburst launcher and they were massacred before the field commander could even order a cease fire.

As the armoured divisions inched closer to the bunker, the insurgents prepared to mount their final defence, stationing their fixed gun platforms and bombarding the approaching vehicles with mortar fire. It would all be in vain however. Suddenly, there were two huge cracks as the very earth above the bunker system was seemingly split open. A shockwave accelerated by a powerful fireball pierced the air and sent destruction down into the earth, collapsing the poorly-maintained corridors and crushing the inhabitants below meters of concrete gravel. A volley of two bunker buster bombs had left the underground fortress rendered to rubble, the surviving troops scattering and regrouping further down from the structure. With a few more strafing runs from the fighters and the incoming buzz of helicopter gunships, the insurgents finally surrendered as the armoured fighting vehicles powered up to meet them.

“Operation successful,” bellowed the field commander into her satellite communication device. “Broenham bunker complex neutralised with minimal collateral damage, remaining insurgent forces have been captured and prepared for transport.”

9

The Allied front had successfully advanced to Rivendale; the heart of Ethalria. As Amalda Harimann fled the country, the remaining officials surrendered. The imperial government collapsed into four nations that almost cloned the laws and constitution of Great Morstaybishlia. Ethalria was hit with a depression on a scale never seen before.

A couple of months had passed since the end of the Auroran-Pacific War. After being hit hard with losses in territory, a dismantled and UNAC-dependent armed forces and border, the Ethaln countries were condemned by the international crowd and was forced to pay the full reparations of the war. It was a deep stab and caused upset everywhere, but it was quite impossible to do anything though as at this point the former Ethalria was a mutilated, deflated balloon that was unable to spit out any more noise on its way out. It was humiliation, but hurt the nationalists and veterans the most. Two countries had “democratically” elected Presidents whilst the other two had elected parliaments, but many just saw them as Morstaybishlian puppets. They catered not to the peoples desires but to the Morsts and Xagrurgians, and that is why they were hated. They did nothing to curb the depression and quite frankly, outside of public image, it was a mess.

Fascist parties were banned in the year-prologue of the APW, but it didn’t leave out nationalist or socialist parties from forming. There were still a massive involvement of beliefs designed by the former Ethalrian regimes that exist within these parties, including but not limited to ultranationalism, racial supremacy, populism, authoritarianism, nativism and opposition to immigration, among others. Those such groups were stung and didn’t really have any social impact, remaining as fragmented groups, but that changed as time progressed.

As time progressed, more and more people got sick and tired of the depression, which by now had lasted several months. Unemployment, poverty and in some cases famine were rife. The Ethalrian’s had begun to revitalize their hatred for the northern and western capitalists as they bathed in their pretentious lifestyles, eating rich meats, driving lavish cars and laughing like pigs; whilst a vast swathe of people live in the slums in the outskirts in overcrowded cities, with a basic diet of bread, beans, oats and other bland foods. At one point, simple medicines like Ibuprofen weren’t accessible, and things like tea, milk, sugar and fruit, which were previously commonplace in households have become luxuries.

Silverdale Guild Hall, Silverdale, Vothetria
10th February 2018

Before the war, Clauzia Sarohart was an infantry soldier. Her enlistment in the first month of the war saw her deployed in Avenai, and then Karinthus. She was injured in the Battle for Karinthus- shot in the leg and then taken to a small town in the countryside where she was cared for. She was bitterly disappointed when she found out they had lost the war and Amalda Harimann, the woman she idolized as did so many others had been removed from power. She prayed for months by her fireplace for Harimann to be safe and well. She was depressed and unemployed, living off of the generosity of the food banks. When she woke up yesterday and read the news, a large snarled enthralled her face. She clicked the link to the video. It was quite poor quality but she recognized her despite her looking rather disgusting, to say the least. She was alive, in Laebe, Brestan, an unrecognized state near Stratarin. The footage appeared to show her fleeing a shanty convenience shop, wearing worn and tattered clothing. Seeing this was a revelation, and it stirred Sarohart’s unsettled mind a little more.

Today she wanted to do something different. She understood that she was a newbie to the political sphere, but she didn’t care, she was there on her strong nationalist beliefs. Clauzia Sarohart was far from amused with the recent turn of politics in Aurora, and like many people shared a similar hatred for the Morstaybishlian and Xagrurgians. She made sure to groom and wash herself, something that she’s only allowed to do once a week. She put on some relatively clean clothes, and her military style trench coat that she hadn’t worn in years. She left where she was staying and walked down through the countryside town to the Guild Hall. As she got there, she instantly recognized insignia of the Vothetrian Workers’ Party that was slung on both of the steeples and above the Delores Sofura-era clock. Their emblem was easily recognizable as it was one of the last political parties to bear the Ethalrian Pheonix in the center. The centuries old arch-shaped door was grand. As she entered, it opened up a new world.

10

Nationalist Party HQ, Ezkrau, Kostoria-Obertonia

“They’re doing what!?” bellowed Alexander Vandel, fury etched into the lines on his face.

“They’ve extended the suspension of the party for this election season,” repeated Jared Lodz, the nationalist party’s chief legal advisor, splaying a document across the ornate desk. “Minister Sergei and several others have already been arrested for his links to the southern Auroran front, there’s not much I can do about it.”

“What next! Is that maniac Strasser going to try and dissolve our party?”

“No, thanks to me your record is clean of any implications so this will remain an internal issue, though that’s the only ‘good’ news we have.”

“Great. So, we have damn Ethalria wannabe’s rampaging through the north, a government that is not only allowing them but is encouraging them to kill our citizens, and we’re powerless to do anything about it whilst we endure the punishment because some of us simply wanted to protect our land.”

“That sums it up pretty well, yes.”

“Its a bloody outrage that’s what, we as a party have no links to the SAF, this is censorship. Arrange a meeting of all ministers and advisors for after lunch, I want everyone there. We’re going to have to take action one way or another…”

[hr]

several days later, Ezkrau city hall

A large crowd had gathered within the speaking hall. Every seat had been filled, and guards

“You may be aware by now that the Nationalist Party has been suspended for this election season. You may also be aware this is due to alleged links found between several of our members and the paramilitary Southern Auroran Front. This, however, is far from the full story,” Vandel began, his commanding eyes raking across the hall. “As a party, we have no links to the SAF, and yet we are punished by having our voice, our ability to protest at the treatment of this country, repressed. It is being repressed by the same government which is currently not only allowing but encouraging foreign armies onto our soil. The Ethalrian force marauding in the north of the country describes the killing of Kostoro-Obertonian citizens as ‘minimal’, but to me it is unacceptable.”

Many in the room cheered, though there was a discernible aura of discomfort within the crowd at the mention of Ethalria. Vandel smiled.

“YES! Ethalria! The country which for time immemorial has wished to conquer our lands and subjugate our people. Because it is now in four the Auroran powers are treating them as if they’re no longer a threat, though if they wanted any proof that this is not the case they need only to look at us! Within the Nuremkastel exclusion zone of the far south, Axdel and Tuvaltastan have performed highly commendable bloodless operations thus far, successfully capturing dozens of SAF members and bringing them to justice. However, the north is a different story. With the blessing if the UNAC and our own president, Karl Strasser, the Ethalrians are killing citizens without remorse nor repercussions.”

“I will not idly stand by for any of this, no one should, not in Kostoria-Obertonia. I hereby call for president Strasser, betrayer of our country, and chancellor Brunner to resign and I declare myself the legitimate leader of this country. If Strasser does not yield to our will, we will have no choice but to use force instead. Consider this your only warning, mark my words, I know you are going to hear this. Under my rulership, we will not see our nation downtrodden any more. Under my rulership, we will not see the Ethalrian phoenix rising from its ashes!”

With this the crowd roared and rose with thunderous applause. Vendel glanced at the scrutinising lenses of the world’s media and smirked.

“Long live Kostoria-Obertonia! Ethalria will never rise again! Long live Kostoria-Obertonia!” he chanted, the applause becoming more fierce and chants of ‘Ethalria will never rise again’ filling the hall. Vendel stood down from the podium, handing the spotlight to a waiting representative of the party, waving to the crowd and chuckling softly as he strode from the stage. He was intercepted by Jared Lodz, who quickly congratulated him.

“You’ve made quite the statement, I think they enjoyed it though don’t you think?”

“Just the reaction I expected, we now have the people’s backing. All we need now is Strasser and Brunner out of the way and then we have the country in our hands.”

“They’re not going to give into you, that I can guarantee.”

“They’ll soon give in when they realise the army won’t be coming to protect them when we come knocking. As soon as they give their statement, we head for the capitol building and seize control. Then, at last, we will finally be able to rid our land of these Ethalrians!”

11

Vothetria, 2018

Sarohart walked into the Guild Hall and before she could even embrace the climbing cigarette smoke and dim lit stocky pub-like atmosphere her hand was shook by someone of similar stature and age. She wasn’t expecting such a quick welcome, but it became apparent why. The fantastic advertising outside made it look like a party running for office, but in reality it was far from and very the opposite; instead merely consisting of a few older females that looked like the knowledge of the place and a dozen younger females that looked like the pride. She was welcomed inside and offered a drink by someone. It amazed her that after all this time she didn’t realize the Guild Hall was a renovated pub. It was quite weird- she had instantly fallen into the ‘newcomer’ category and felt like everyone wanted to be her friend despite not having any.

Sarohart became impressed with the nationalistic, anti-communist and anti-Noroist tone in the party. It amplified her own thoughts and beliefs and after a few drinks she was spurting out her deepest thoughts and desires. She was a likable character and was invited back again.

A few days later she returned to the Guild Hall. The same atmosphere ensued but this time there were some more faces about to speak to. She was pulled aside after a few minutes and they told her that she was a great speaker and that they wanted her to help deliver lectures of their beliefs in beerhouses across their local cities. She didn’t hesitate to agree and before she knew it a week later she was bellowing her political beliefs in the dark beer-hall rooms of the beerhouses in Ohmnervel and Wüller, capturing the imagination of ex-military and deeply envied peoples. Party membership saw an all time high, in the first months rising by over two hundred people. The party leaders Immima Magolen and Jina Xurzese were quite stunned. The woman literally had people queuing to sign on, and that had never happened before.

Soon Sarohart became the public image of the party, she had earned the rights of respect among her colleagues and she had assumed the full lecture position- something that before was a joint effort. Her oratory skills were unmatched- it was something she’d never considered but now was one of her key-attributes. It filled a long isolated gap in her life of built resentment and nationalism, and being able to discuss her thoughts to others is all she wanted.

Sarohart’s considerable oratory and propaganda skills were appreciated by the party leadership, and with the support of Jina Xurzese, Sarohart became chief of propaganda for the party in less than two months of her being a member. Over time, Sarohart demonstrated strength for a once dim-lit localized town party. Her actions began to transform the party, and organised their biggest meeting yet of 2,500 people destined for the 15th of March 2018 in the Ohmnervel Rauch- und Bierhaus. She felt she couldn’t contain her excitement to propel the nationalism she had begun to spur into the limelight. By this point, the police had already begun monitoring her speeches.

She excelled in their biggest meeting. Her views became their views, in fact, her views were more or less already their views. With more and more large meetings, the party membership began to soar.

Sarohart and Immima Magolen were on a fundraising trip to Karinthus in early April when a mutiny broke out within the Vothetrian Workers Party where members of its executive committee wanted to merge with the rival Vothetrian Socialist Party. Sarohart returned to their new Ohmnervel headquarters and angrily tendered her resignation. The committee members realized that the resignation of their leading public figure and speaker would mean the end of the party. Sarohart announced she would rejoin under one condition- that she would assume party chairman as replacement for her former mentor Jina Xurzese and that the party headquarters would remain in Ohmnervel instead of merging into Karinthus. With some hesitance, the committee agreed, and she rejoined the party on the 9th of April as member 4,380. In the days following, Sarohart organised several beerhouses that were, on the night, absolutely packed, and defended herself to thunderous applause. Her strategy proved successful, and at a general membership meeting she was granted absolute powers as the party chairman with zero votes against.

12

Ethalria through the ages

It was very unusual in the past for males to be in a position of power as they filled the harder jobs, the intensive labour and the jobs that didn’t require much thought. In fact, it stemmed back hundreds of years ago when King Volkhemmur II of Ethalria was bought down by his wife who illegitimately claimed the throne. From then on in until the end of the matriarchal monarchy, males were silenced from any form of power.

During the reign of Delores Sofura, who steered the recovering Ethalria away from its empirical past at the end of the Auroran Imperial War and who was the first female ruler of Ethalria that was “democratically chosen” instead of a monarch, males were given better rights, but this was far from adequate in other countries. Sofura initially began her office with the mindset that males are inferior to females. Her opinion and her public’s opinion didn’t change for many years, but since the late 1990s and the rise of the internet there began a rising movement of male demonstrations and rallies for more equality. Males were largely silenced by the police and, in some extremer cases the military. Nevertheless, it stirred the deep ideas that females were superior forever.

The 2000s rolled out. Sofura had been elected into office three times and had served thirty three years as the Matriarch until her death in 2008. She was heavily decorated as this holy figure, but realistically she was as tyrannical as her predecessors. One-party ballots, highly militaristic and far-right doctrines, and forced conscription. Her newly-elected Vice-Matriarch, Amalda Harimann, declared office with her similar beliefs but with a deeper hatred for the Ethalrian enemies of the past. She was an OK public speaker but tended to let others who she trusted do it for her. She believed heavily in restoring the true values of Ethalrism and went on to try her luck but failed. Her post-exile saw the an enormous failure in the eyes of her usually awe-inspired public. The country was forcibly split into four and resentment for the Morstaybishlians grew like never before. At the same time, it was freedom. For the first time ever males were given the right to vote in local and national elections, were given the opportunity to work in office jobs and were also allowed to serve in the military. But even with a towering Morst government watchdog, none of the countries allowed males to climb the chain of command. Males had to stay under females no matter what. 
[hr]
Vothetria, 2019

The political sphere in Vothetria had been stirred ever since the Rivendale Bombings in Faethalria and the Valentines Day Massacre in Karinthus. The prime minister was slammed for initially supporting the idea of getting involved with a joint operation to rid the nationalists from Kostoria-Obertonia and due to the unstable parliament she called for a General Election three years before it would have been to gain a better majority. Juentines succeeded in the fact that she now was powerful enough to control the house, but it wasn’t the only success. It was the biggest success in the history of the Vothetrian Workers Party. The party engaged in electoral battles in which Sarohart participated as a speaker and organizer, as well as in street battles and violence between supporters of the Workers Party and supporters of the current Conservative Party. On the 18th of February at the conclusion of the vote, the VWP clutched their first rise into parliament by gaining 34 seats in the 416-seat house. Sarohart was satisfied with the outcome in the meanwhile, but felt threatened with the street violence that, on one occasion almost engulfed her platform. Soon thereafter she created small volunteer guard unit known as the Schutzeinheit (protection unit) to provide security at their future meetings.

This new-found popularity she boasted shot out of proportion when the government of Morstaybishlia voted Franklin Barvata, a Labour, into office. It had a ripple effect that soared through the Conservative-dominated Ethaln countries. Influenced by Great Morstaybishlia, the Ethalns saw a natural inclination towards similar parties. The Vothetrian Workers Party was much closer to the Morst’s Labour Party than the Conservatives were. Sarohart’s ego grew as membership for her party skyrocketed to 100,000, it just did not stop growing.

13

Rivendale State Building, Faethalria, March 2019

As the blades of his helicopter quickly died out, Lupe Juentines nodded to the pilot and stepped out onto the 100th floor. There was a stiff autumn breeze that swept around her that was amplified by her altitude. She had to hold on to herself a little to keep her posture. She looked upwards. The 100th to 125th floors bellowed over the lands. How the building wasn’t destroyed in the Auroran-Pacific War she did not know. She walked past the guard with an outstretched arm showing her identification. She took the elevator to the top floor of the former Matriarch.

“Welcome, Lupe,” Said Jane, who was sat in a commanding position at her desk, a view of the Rivendale skyline behind her. “Glad to see you again. Are you well?”

Lupe Juentines strode in the room, closing the large mahogany door. She had visited it before when it was Harimann’s office. Augusta had hardly redecorated besides one or two minor alterations. The vibes it gave off tickled the back of her spine.

“I am fine.” she said as she walked towards the big desk. She took a stride up the useless step and took a seat on the opposite side of the table to her associate.

“Good to hear. The insurgency in North Kostoria-Obertonia is being pacified slowly but surely, we’ve seen success on all but a few of our operations in removing SAF controlled compounds in the North of the country. Axdel and Tuvaltastan have the situation in the exclusion zone fully under control, and I’ve been informed their investigation into the rest of the missing uranium has provided a concise list of suspects.”

“Excellent. It’s good to hear things are going as planned.”

“However, this new character, Vendel I believe his name was, is worrying. He has gained popularity fast and is threatening to launch a coup if he isn’t made president. His platform is based against opposition to our counter-terrorist operations and there is substantial evidence that claims he has ties with the SAF themselves, imagine that.”

“That can not be allowed to happen. We need to remain cautious during these times. I will speak with the Prime Minister of Great Morstaybishlia for a solution to the problem. He has already shown he is committed to our cause, and will support our intervention within Kostoria-Obertonia and adding to our security, which is fundamental to the final goal.”

“Indeed, I’ve been in contact with Karl Strasser and it’s very concerning. If Vendel makes a move Strasser has said much of the Military could be behind him.”

“I don’t want war, President.”

“It’s unfortunately looking like it might be inevitable, Lupe.” Jane sighed. “Vendel has clearly stated he intends to endanger us to further attacks from the SAF, at the very least.”

“Ms Augusta. My government will not bow down to the demand of war on this scale. I’m afraid if it is war then this operation will have to find its allies elsewhere.”

“We’re strong enough to lead an offensive against K-O on our own if it comes to war. If we can encourage Thalria to contribute as well we will be able to remove the threat rapidly and with minimal casualties.”

“I’m not convinced, Ms Augusta, and neither will my country. We’ve just left a war, and you want to bring that idea back to the forefront of Aurora? I think once we hit our next objectives within Kostoria-Obertonia we hold a ceasefire where we negotiate with both Mr Strasser and Mr Vendel peacefully.” Lupe stood up and walked over to the other woman’s fantastic office window. It was pure state of the art architecture which showcased the whole of Downtown Rivendale.

Jane turned to face Lupe as she strolled over to the window, her face beginning to crease with frustration at her refusal to cooperate. “Have you seen Vendel’s rallies? He makes himself absolutely clear he has no intention to negotiate with us. For now we should instead focus on improving our national ties so that we can confront this threat from a unified platform. It’ll be the easiest solution in the long term.”

"I have studied Vendel before. He is hard done by from his past endeavors. Instead of fighting, economic sanctions from surrounding powers could bring down his hatred and egotistical mannerisms IF he were to ever take office.”

“Are you implying the likes of Xagrurg will side with us against Kostoria? I admire your idealism but I do not see that happening any time soon.”

“Remember Ms Augusta that we are speaking hypothetically. Perhaps to avoid this scenario we could put more troops into the support of the current Kostoria-Obertonian government under Mr Strasser.”

“Yes, I agree with that at least. Strasser will definitely be open to military support in the coming days. We should establish a safe roadway and authorize a convoy of Faethalrian and Vothetrian armored vehicles to head toward Ezkrau as soon as Strasser gives the word. Vendel intends to use the military to usurp him and thus military action will prevent it.”

“Mmm. I agree. But if this escalates, Vothetria is out.” Lupe affirmed.

“I would disagree, we should remain allied for the duration of this affair at the very least. Standing as one we will not be challenged.”

“I reassure you that whilst I am in office I will not be obliged to take my country to war on a scale larger than it already is. You won’t find me laying down the lives of my people when this escalates. We can sort anything out diplomatically. I am a strong advocate for diplomacy, not unnecessary violence. The man is not confirmed to have ties with the SAF and therefore we shouldn’t assume he will act as radically or have ties with them in the future. It’s not going to happen.”

“Alright, I cannot say I agree with you but we should move forward with what we have nonetheless”

“Yes, Ms Prime Minister. I shall be in touch with you shortly. From there we shall figure out this support for Mr Strasser. I have a flight to attend to Thalria to speak to President Ameliadotter. I shall raise this issue with her.” Lupe moved to Jane and offered a handshake.

“We’ll talk again soon then, Lupe,” Jane said, shaking her hand firmly. “Thanks for taking the time to visit on such short notice.”

“Thank you for the invitation.”

14

Life was bustling in the heart of Rorikton, the capital of Thalria. The new city tram system was an excellent success, and commuting buses made up most of the heavy traffic. Out of all of the big Ethalrian cities, tourism rocked Rorikton the most which was a big boost to the economy, whether it was the beautiful Arisco Gardens, the wondersome Ethal-era statues or the romantic picturesque skyline, it didn’t matter. It was what made the city so unique within the Ethalns.

It was April the 21st, and the morning had turned into a luscious autumn day. The sun was out and it was reminisce of the beautiful summer they had just had. Things were improving in Thalria and things were looking better for the future. The post-war depression was fading and the country was set to a great future. In fact, Thalrian citizens had become one of the happiest within the southern Auroran states.

It was 1 o clock in the Arisco Gardens. The temperature was soaring unusually which saw thousands of people out of their homes enjoying the sun. Being the biggest park in the city, thousands of people flocked there with their children on a nice day out. Clothes were off and summery music was playing at reasonable volumes. A man was laying lavishly in the sun, soaking in all its elements. Next to him was a black duffel bag with a red and blue tartan blanked sprawling out its large zipper. It blended in and went relatively unnoticed. He was surrounded by thousands of people who themselves were laid lavishly. Young children were skating, dancing and having a nice time. It was a perfect day in Thalria.

It had been some time. The nearby clock tower struck 2 o clock. That was the signal. The man who was laid down with his shades on reached into his duffel bag and produced a Negev NG-7 with a 200 round belt and more ammunition laid deeper in the bag. Nobody realized until it was too late.

“Long Live Kostoria-Obertonia! Glory to the Southern Auroran Front!”

Bullets, followed by screams bellowed across the city. Bullets came out of the gun faster than you could blink. People were hitting the deck faster than bowling pins. The man was randomly spraying in a direction which had the highest concentration of people. Eerie screams echoed across the park until there was nobody left living. Either they were shot dead or had managed to flee. The man was not satisfied. He reached into his duffel bag and produced a 9mm handgun. He walked over the field of bodies, ending the lives of those injured. Some pleaded for their lives and others tried to play dead, but in the end, it didn’t matter. They were no more.

Sirens began to sound in the distance. When they arrived, the man fired at the cars. He injured two or three officers before getting mowed down with opposing machine gun fire. His body jerked back uncannily. For now, normal life in Rorikton was no more.

15

(OOC: I didn’t find the post Juentines left Vothetria for the Royal Wedding relevant enough to post it here than in the wedding rp, so here is the link to it as it matches up with this story as well:)

16

4th May 2019, VWP HQ, Phoenix House, Ohmnervel, Vothetria

5pm

Sarohart stood before a long-table of her most loyal and devoted party members. They all shared similar beliefs on the Prime Minister; she was a fraudulent cow. They were here to discuss one topic. They all wanted to expose her for thieving funds from sectors across government. It was possible, and Sarohart wanted to bring it to the light.

“Ms Juentines’s government has utterly disgraced themselves and haven’t performed across the board over the last two years. They promised to pay off the war debts by 2021 and we haven’t even paid off the first quartile! They promised to bring those poorer families into more esteemed positions, they promised to build thousands of new houses. They promised to improve public order and safety, hell, they even promised to improve ‘citizen well-being’. Have they delivered this? No! Can anyone here tell me where this money has been going. I will tell you. Her fucking pockets. Her vested interests. She claims she has paid off millions in debt but the financial statements have shown the debt figures have not shifted.”

The women around the table agreed.

“And to compromise? Well the filth has raised taxes sixfold. The normal family can barely afford to put food on their table, let alone live up to social standards that she sets the bar at.”

Grunts of agreeance from across the table.

“I promise you that I will expose this woman on Mondays opening of parliament. We will have a statement of her government expenses. I need your full support for I shall have her castigated. She will have riots in the streets once the people know her fraudulence.”

“With all due respect, Ms Sarohart, how are you going to achieve this?”

“I’ve got access to her residency.”

The woman around the table were in shock. They soon realized this would work. The meeting continued with great mindfulness for another half an hour.
[hr]

VWP HQ, Phoenix House, Ohmnervel, Vothetria

8pm

Sarohart and her most trusted minister Immima Magolen, one of the women who brought her to her fame were talking in private after the meeting in great length.

“I have bribed Juentines’s housekeeper. Her office residency stores the ‘official financial report’, but that won’t reveal to us where the money is going as it’s merely a con. What we need is to get into her real house on the outskirts of Bischlehelm.”

“How on Urth are we going to get in there?” Magolen simply could not understand.

Sarohart snarled. She reached into the inside of her black leather trench coat and produced a brown key. Magolen’s mouth dropped. She had her question answered, but it opened up to an even bigger one. how did she get the key? It did not matter.

“I have paid the housekeeper to disturb the cameras when you enter.”

“When I enter? I can’t do this!” Magolen protested.

“How far does loyalty go, Magolen?”

She pondered on that for a minute. She took a while to correct herself. A blank, stern, onus face replaced her once conflicted and contentious expressions.

“The housekeeper has told my associate where she keeps all of her financial records. She told my associate the woman likes to deal with it all herself and leave the handiwork to her minions. They are in a safe within her upstairs bedroom. Heck, the woman even supplied my associate with the pass code to get in,” Sarohart giggled. “I am not surprised. I would do the same if my family was kidnapped. She has no idea who wants the keys, who wants the code, she just told my associate that she wants her children back, which she can have once she fulfills her duty. Drive there tonight. She will cut off the cameras and leave by 10pm. It’s a thirty minute drive.”

Magolen was left speechless, in awe, and inspired. She needed to do this to prove herself to Sarohart. She was capable.

“You cunning woman.”
[hr]
Bichlehelm, Vothetria

10:34pm
 
Magolen was driving a black 2011 Audelli through the rural estate in the back-roads of Bichlehelm. She was driving along slowly in the dark looking for an address.

“34, no. 36, no,” Magolen continued. She drove down a new road which continued the street. It was filled with three detached houses with large gardens instead of semi-detached. It was dark and on this street there was no streetlight. Perfect.

It was obvious which house was Juentines’s. It was the most lavish, as that’s her character. She need not check the address, but did so anyway just in case. It matched. Magolen slid a black mask down her face and took out her ear jewelry to hide her persona. She parked her car up on woman’s drive. She had put some black gloves on that was specific for this occasion to hide her fingerprint. She drew the brown key Sarohart gave her from her pocket and slipped it into the door. She began to sweat profusely for she had never ‘broken’ into someone’s house. For a moment she prayed there was no alarms, and then remembered the caretakers children were on the line. Satisfied, she twisted the key anticlockwise. The door eased open. Warm air pushed against her skin.

Why does she have her heating on when nobody’s home? she thought. She has too much money.

Magolen was quick to navigate the house. Now that she had passed the outdoor cameras that she thought were on but weren’t, there was no need to be sneaky. She relaxed from her tension a little and paced to the upstairs of the house. She had no clue which room was Juentines’s, so she checked them all.

The first door was ajar. She pushed against it and entered with some caution.

“The bathroom.” Magolen whispered as she retraced her steps.

The next door was closed. She opened it and to her relief did not have to go back and try another room. She knew it was Juentines’s room as it had the most expensive furniture, the biggest bed and a painting of her. Entitled pig Magolen thought.

She was careful not to disturb the room as she walked to the other side. There was a second door which Juentines carefully opened. It brought out stale air. In fact the whole room was much colder than the rest of the house, and dust resonated from within. Behind that door was a little side closet with yet another door behind.

“Another fucking door?” she whispered in mild tantrum.

Magolen went to open the door but it would not budge. She knew it was the door that would open up to her safe. She tried to shift the door but it did not open. It was then she realized there was a lock.

“You fuck!” she cursed. She did not have a key for this door.

Magolen stepped back to collect herself. She began to search the room, careful not to disturb things. After going through everything, in the cabinets, under the bed, in the wardrobe and in her coats and clothes, it was nowhere. She left the room, frustrated. A flush of anger consumed her. For a moment, Magolen looked as if she would burst. But she kept her cool. She began searching the other rooms and downstairs. To no avail. She had one last room, the garage.

She entered the garage through a door that connected it to the kitchen. There laid a large 2019 plate Audelli. Inside laid a key. It was the one, she knew it.

“Fuck!” Magolen cursed again. There was no way she was going to get into the car. Juentines probably had the keys with her. Instantly she knew what she needed to do. She found a hammer in the back of the garage and smashed the window next to the key. The car alarm sounded and was deafening. Magolen reached the keys and jolted for the safe. She did not know if the alarm was linked to the police, but probably as it is the Prime Ministers car. fuckit, obviously she thought.

She reached the room and pushed the key in the lock. It was the right one. Sweating but relieved she walked to the safe. She entered the code that she had spent time memorizing and, sure enough, it opened. Even this far into the house away from the garage the sound was only slightly muffled but still ear-piercing. That’s all she could hear. She gritted her teeth in defiance and the safe door just slid on open.

She was shocked. She didn’t even disturb the safe before taking a picture. Inside laid at least four or five kilos in gold bullion’s. She didn’t know the exact value of gold but knew the total would be between 150,000 and 250,000 kiribs. That’s an insane amount of gold that she’s probably not declared! She took a photo of a loose piece of paper that declared the values of the gold. From there, she quickly pushed the two files that contained all of her private banking statements into her black rucksack. She closed the safe- locking with a click, and then closed the two doors leading to the safe. She paced through the house, leaving things how they were found. She felt some fear as she glanced back at the garage door which still had a screeching car alarm within, but as she threw the bag on the passengers seat and sat down in her own, she was overcome with a flurry of excitement; she had succeeded. She twisted the ignition to light the diesel. She released the handbrake and drove off. A few minutes had passed and Magolen had just left the estate, filtering into traffic. Her senses were stricken when the sound of sirens whizzed past the car. Her heart skipped a beat, but the sirens did not stop. They were heading straight for the house. Thank god I left when I did.

Magolen had one last thing to do. She dialed a number. It rang three times before being picked up. A familiar voice sounded from the other side.

“Were you successful?”

“Yes.”

The voice on the other end gave a sigh of relief. It was of triumph.

“Good work, I’ll see you tomorrow.” The voice on the other end put the phone down.

17

5th May 2019, VWP HQ, Phoenix House, Ohmnervel, Vothetria

6:45am

Sarohart had been awake for hours. She was yearning for Magolen to give her the documents, and for the meanwhile, she was pacing up and down her board room by herself. She was determined to oust Juentines out of office. If it all went to plan, there will be a motion of no confidence tomorrow- the whole election cycle would come around again and, if she played her cards right, she could be looking at office herself.

For what seemed like a lifetime for Sarohart, the door opened. Magolen’s face appeared. As she walked in, she put her black bag on the table and gave Sarohart that eye. The two cackled contemporaneously. Magolen began to unzip and take the elements of the bag out and onto the table.

“I trust these are the right ones?” Sarohart uttered.

“These are,” Magolen opened the file up and it was swiped up by Sarohart who inspected its pages inside. She took a few minutes to do so, and during this time she was unaware of Magolen getting something on her phone.

“This is excellent stuff. I knew it, she really is a cloaked tyrant. Oh my god, look at that!” Sarohart pointed to a column of figures which indicated monetary statements she had made in a press report that were blatantly false. “The crafty bitch. She’s going to be done for this,” Sarohart changed the page, which contained even more sacrilege. “My word. How much?! Half of the damned Conserfucking party is in on this! No wonder the average Mia is in poverty. The state of this Magolen, this is going to take a long time to process.”

“You think that’s the worst of it? There’s more,” Magolen presented her phone screen to Sarohart. On it, a picture of the safe with the golden bullion’s. She swiped the picture to the documentation of the bullion’s. “Over two hundred thousand alone. She’s probably got more stashed away overseas or somewhere.”

Sarohart took her phone and inspected the images.

“You have to be fucking with me,” she paused. Her jaw was almost on the floor. “She will rot in prison.”

18

6th May 2019, Parliament, Karinthus, Vothetria

9am

Today’s session in parliament had just begun. It was not a generally busy parliament hearing but Sarohart had phoned the Leader of the Opposition Carla Schmidt and told her she must attend. Sarohart was also granted by the speaker to start the day with her ‘topic’ that she wanted to touch on.

The conservative ministers sat down, merry as can be, preparing for a nice day of politics. The Chancellor of the Exchequer sat down. For the time Juentines was away, she was in charge. Labour flocked in next. Upon the late-given orders of their leader, almost half of the party attended. When the Workers Party turned up, they filled in all of their seats.

“This is a tad unusual, Lyra.” The Chancellor of the Exchequer glanced to the Secretary of State for the Home Department. She agreed.

When the other members for the conservatives and smaller parties took their seats, Clauzia Sarohart stood up.

“Ms Speaker, I would like to open up today’s debate with a very interesting topic of conservation.”

“Proceed.”

“I have found irrefutable evidence that the Prime Minister has been embezzled million of Kiribs away from…”

The Chancellor of the Exchequer stood.

“This is an outrage! Ms Speaker you mu-”

“Order, no, I said ORDER!” the speaker bellowed. “If the Honourable Lady has evidence then the Honourable Lady’s speech must be respected!”

Sarohart snarled. The Chancellor of the Exchequer slumped back in her seat. She knew what came next was inevitable.

19

10th May 2019, 5 Eagle Crescent, Silverdale, Vothetria

Sarohart had just woken up. She’d flicked the kettle on and fiddled with the television remote to turn onto the news. She laid down on her sofa and yawned. The yawn turned into immediate surprise and satisfaction. She turned the volume up after seeing the headlines.

“BREAKING NEWS- ARREST warrant issued for Prime Minister Juentines and her cabinet members after police report shows the shocking truth- the Prime Minister and her cabinet HAVE embezzled over ten million in taxpayers money! Vothetrian police are working with Morstaybishlian police for the capture of Lupe Juentines, who is residing within Great Morstaybishlia. Members of her cabinet have also been issued arrest warrants, with chancellor of the Exchequer Deloria Schutz and Lyra Pits handing themselves in.”

"Over three dozen Conservative members who believed the allegations were lies have resigned from the party after loosing trust in the government, with an additional eight creating a breakaway conservative party. A motion of no confidence is expected to be delivered in the next parliament sitting. "

She snarled. She knew she needed to take the reigns in order to push her cause. She thought back to a year ago- a poverty stricken veteran with barely a place to go and with nothing. If she did this right then she would overtake even Carla Schmidt. She walked back into the kitchen and poured the water into her coffee. She liked no milk and no sugar. She sighed a relief for this was a day of rest, one of the few she’ll get in the upcoming months.

20

10th May 2019, Multiple cities in Vothetria

By 2 o’clock, mere hours after the morning news, cities across Vothetria had been shut down with protests- millions of ordinary people sacked their day jobs in shear disgust and realisation to the fraud the government had been committing, unbeknownst to the public until this morning with the National Sibyl’s release of the Vothetrian Intelligence Service’s report. Across the nation, over half of the population simply halted- people didn’t go to work and parents refused to take their children to school.

In Karinthus, people threw eggs, bottles, tomatoes and other things that would make a mess at the walls of parliament. People were fed up of their stupendously high taxes and hard living costs, and with the realisation that they were getting scammed by the cabinet in charge of the country, women and men united, shouting and hoisting slogans in the air such as ‘Corruption is Cancer’ and ‘Juentines is not our Prime Minister!’. These people were met with a fierce force of police. They were overwhelmed and could not maintain ground, resorting to using force. Batons, tear gas and pepper sprays were used against protesters and there were hundreds of arrests within hours.

Travel and commuting was stopped. Train lines and tramlines were cancelled and shut down with protesters standing in the way of trains. A statue of parliament that was constructed less than a year ago with Lupe Juentines’s name was vandalised, her name chiseled off and the house graffitied.

By 3 o’ clock, protesters had targeted cabinet members houses. Lupe Juentines’ estate that was raided by Magolen in Bichlehelm was targeted the most. Teenagers and young adults had graffiti sprayed anti-conservative and old Ethalrian monarchy symbols on her house, a reminisce of the monarchy’s fraud all those years ago. A few of her windows were cracked and some of the men had managed to break into the garage. Juentines’s 2019 plate Audelli was torched till the fire put itself out. Old neighbours of hers had called the police beforehand and the already strained respondents turned up over an hour later, by which time the vandals were gone.

Anti-conservative politicians, their rivals Carla Schmidt and Clauzia Sarohart dare’nt disturb what colossal protests swarmed the city streets. Some politician had already tried and was egged. They were going to address the people and rally support for their parties in the later few days when the crowds were tamed. Sarohart knew one thing was for sure that Schmidt didn’t- anyone who did not openly participate or share the emotion of the rest of the crowd was easily identified and dealt with by the crowd itself. Those who weren’t resistant or caused a disturbance were viewed as subversive; indifference alone was enough to infuriate the crowd. Sarohart knew that in order to manipulate the people into supporting her she needed to treat people as if they were one entity, because as Sarohart put it, individuals are rational, think for themselves, and are concerned about their own well-being; whereas groups are unintelligent and easily persuaded. When she was speaking to Immima Magolen in the evening she said to her that groups tend to have the characteristics of weakness of intellectual ability, lack of emotional restraint, incapacity for moderation and delay and the inclination to exceed every limit in the expression of emotion. Magolen agreed and said that groups show an unmistakable picture of a regression of mental activity to an earlier stage such as children. They both pondered on todays events and knew that this was characteristic of Ethalrians, and this is how they were in the past, and to Saroharts’ conclusion; how they would be in the future.