From the Ashes...

(OOC: Oh shit it me Tuva RPing as SH WHOAAAAAA. Gonna do a short bit of backdating as well, hope ya don’t mind, and would like to apologize on the shortness of the post)

Sent on 1420:22.10.2020
Official Correspondance from the Department of State of South Hills

To Her Royal Highness Dorothea, Queen of Alksearia,

For one, I wish to offer my deepest of condolences, Your Highness. Your loss is one deeper than simply an attack on your nation. It was an attack on your family. This, paired with the petty political realities of our world, has brought me and my constituents in the 'gamot to the conclusion that something must be done about the terrorists that claim legitimacy in Balistria. We offer our assistance in this crisis, and are prepared to send 63,000 of our finest service members and military equipment to boot. With your permission, we would also send a number of our naval and air vessels to the region to supply a force multiplier for further lethality.

The premature loss of a father is one I am all too familiar with, and it is a feeling I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemies.

Yours,

Minerva Todd
President
The United Confederation of Concordian States


4:18pm
Dorothea’s Study

Dorothea walked back to her office from the press courtyard. One of the longest walks she had ever taken, even longer than the one she took after she found out her father had passed. She couldn’t shake this feeling that she was making a royal mistake. But what choice did she have? Balistria essentially holds a claim to her throne that they will not easily throw off. Not only did the Freedom Fighters dare say that they wanted her to resign, but at the same time, they dared suggested that the monarchy should be elected, but they had the audacity to suggest that an Alkari could never hold the throne. She felt enraged again as she entered her office. She looked up and saw Lord Alexander sitting in her chair. THE seat of the Monarch. Before she screamed at him, he stood.

“Well, it’s about time we met. I’m sure…” Alexander started saying.

“Who in Xaethos’ name gave you the RIGHT to sit in my chair?” Dorothea blurted out.

“Calm down. It’s just a….” Alexander continued.

“I don’t care if you helped my father to raise me or not, you do NOT get to sit in that seat. YOu are not the Monarch.” Dorothea said enraged.

“Well, maybe I should be! At least we wouldn’t be fighting a war to annex another nation without thinking of the international fallout that would come as a result of it.” Alexander retorted.

“Excuse me? Do you speak of treason in my office?” Dorothea asked. She hit a nerve there she could tell.

Alexander walked to the table where a map of Northern Arcturia laid on it. Dorothea could not figure out what he was thinking before he started speaking.

“Before you call the guards and send me off for treason, just listen to what I have to say. The MBE is not going to look favorably on this arrangement. You basically made Alksearia their number 2 target. Secondly, I have not heard much from the other members of the UCA, but I can almost tell that they wouldn’t be in favor of this move either. All you did was isolate Alksearia from the rest of the Urth.”

Dorothea looked at Alexander with almost disbelief, “And you don’t think I didn’t consult the other leaders? Johanna of Norgsveldet would’ve had something to say about it.”

“They wouldn’t speak their mind to you. You’re too emotional right now…” Alexander said.

“EMOTIONAL?? MY father died how else am I supposed to be right now?”

“That’s not what I mean…” Alexander said.

“Then what do you mean? Cause it really sounds like a woman can’t lead, and ya know what, you can take your misogynistic…” Dorothea started.

“Let me stop you right…” Alexander started.

Dorothea got really close to Alexander and got into his face, “Excuse me?! You dare tell me when I am done talking? You don’t get that right, you really don’t. You served as my father’s Foreign Affairs Minister, a position my father knew more about than you ever did. I read your reports that you would write when I was 14. I know you don’t do your job nor do you have a sense of diplomacy in the slightest bit. Right now, you are walking on thin ice. I do not want to see your face in my officer EVER without being let in by me personally. You are dismissed from my sight.”

OOC: Joint post with [mention]Norgsveldet[/mention]

October 18th, 2020
4:20pm(hehehehe)
Eldras’s office

After Dorothea watched Lord Alexander walk out of her office, she turned to the phone that was sitting on her desk. He had a point. She did need to talk to Johanna and possibly even Olav about her plans for Balistria. It took her a minute to find the contact information of the prime Minister, however, she was only able to find the official number for her office. Any number is better than nothing.

After dialing the number, the phone rang for a few minutes. For a moment, Dorothea thought that they had already left for the day when she remembered that they were probably just getting back from lunch. Then, someone answered the phone.

“Hallo, hvem er dette?” An unfamiliar female voice that definitely was not Johanna, answered back in Norgsveltian.

“Uhhhhhhhhhh…hello?” Dorothea asked. She had absolutely no idea what the woman on the other side of the phone said, nor did she know who the woman was, “Is this Prime Minister Johanna?”

“Oh apologies, no this is her secretary, I’ll put you on the phone with the prime minister in just a second.” The woman on the other end stated in a harsh Norgsveltian accent. After a few minutes of silence a new voice answered back.

“Hello, Johanna Sverdrup here, who am I talking with?” Johanna answered in fluent codexian with a hint of a Norgsveltian accent.

“Ah, Johanna, this is Queen Dorothea of Alksearia. I wanted to talk to you about the…uh…the war going on over here” Dorothea said.

“Ah yes, I am sorry about your loss, from what I’ve heard from my king he seemed to have been a good man.” Johanna said. “Though when it comes to your proclamation about the intent to annex Balistria… Are you certain that is the best cause of action to take?” Johanna’s voice is turning a bit colder. “Dividing up Balistria in several managing puppet states is a far easier way to control it.”

“Well, I wish I could’ve explained to my foreign affairs minister, the annexation of Balistria doesn’t mean I want to annex the full country without dividing it. Balistria is too rogue to be left in one piece.  A…simple plan was to keep the title Kingdom of Balistria and create three distinct administrative zones under that title. Obviously, the Kingdom would be controlled personally either by me or by one of my family members, but my main objective is preventing Balistria from doing something like this again.” Dorothea explained. She hoped that Johanna understood what she was saying.

A minute of silence was kept until Johanna answered back. “You do know you must be fully prepared to keep large military spending and large military force to keep them in line right?” Johanna said once more cold.

“Partially. The concept involves a large military presence until we can assume they pose no threat anymore, and then we would fully integrate them into the Alksearian government. In addition, one zone would be a maximum security zone where we would relocate any Balistrian who served in the previous government or served in the Balistrian military. That way we can focus on…re-educating them on certain values, such as the value of life.” Dorothea responded.

“That seems like a drastic action to be taken, your majesty. I fully understand putting leadership positions in it, hell I am of the opinion of executing the leaders in Balistria. But punishing everyone who served into this security zone is an unnecessary action.” Johanna said slowly. “I fully understand you want revenge for your father’s tragic death, but I want you to carefully go over these actions. Examine its weaknesses and examine its strengths.”

“I understand where you are coming from, but I ask you this: what else are we going to do? It was a cowardly attack on our nation to kill the King, and they spat in our face by broadcasting it live for the WHOLE WORLD to see! The fact that I am proposing a way that doesn’t directly cause a bloodbath of executing leaders or military men should be welcomed by everyone. In all honesty, I could order my troops to kill any Balistrian they see, but I rather have a more diplomatic approach than a bloodbath.” Dorothea responded with anger in her voice.

“Executing leaders under the pretext of a trial is one my nation will support, but punishing EVERYONE in the Balistrian military including even the rank and file soldier into re-education is not one I will support.” Johanna stated her tone showing a mixture of coldness and annoyance. “I will make it clear I do not have much sympathy for Balistrians be it the common soldier or leader, but examine what the results of such actions in this war is necessary. I will support you in controlling Balistria, if it is needed I can convince my king to keep soldiers in Balistria after the war is done. But you need to consider whether the security zone is the best cause of action.”

“And what do you propose as the alternative? We can’t just let them off the hook. What else is there to consider? Put them on trial for crimes against the crown and hope to Xaethos they stick?” Dorothea responded harshly.

Johanna left out an exhausted sigh. “At the current moment I do not have one yet.” She admitted, though before Dorothea could respond she quickly added. “But, it is one I think we can bring up with the rest of the UCA and other participating nations. I think everyone involved wants a say in what we do to the people that did the crime against your crown. We can examine different options there exist, and if your solution is the best one we have then the security zone can be established.”

Dorothea paused for a moment. She let out a deep sigh before responding, “I agree. I think the help of the UCA will allow for a solution to come to light. Let’s just hope the Council doesn’t try to pull anything too bold.”

“Good.” Johanna said simply. “I think we will be available to find a solution that will work. Though when it comes to Balistrian administrative zones, I have faith that our fellow UCA members will back us on this. I do not have that faith for a certain superpower and its prime minister… So I think you have to be prepared for their reaction to this. I am not certain whatever relations you had with them beforehand, but be prepared for it to become worse.”

“Understandable, but their father wasn’t just brutally murdered. If they think Balistrians should be shown mercy for what happened, they would be mistakenly wrong.” Dorothea responded rather coldly, “the MBE needs to learn they don’t make decisions for everyone. I don’t mean to cut our phone call short, and I wish our first call was under better circumstances, but I unfortunately have other matters to attend to. If you have nothing else to add, I look forward to seeing either you or Olav at the UCA council.”

“Quite fine, I look forward to seeing you as well your majesty, might a brighter future be ahead.” Johanna said it was a bit warmer in tone then it has been before. “Have a good day.”

“Have a good day.” Dorothea says as she hangs up the phone.

Dorothea sat down in her chair feeling…feeling something. She was angry and frustrated, but also felt relieved and reassured, but feeling overwhelmed. She knew Johanna was a hard political figure to speak to, but it felt like Johanna wasn’t very receptive. Dorothea looked at her calendar to see what she had to do next ,but decided that it would be easier for her to stay in her chair and reconsider some of her proposals for post-annexation.


2:35pm Norgsveldet,
Osfjord, Prime Minister Office.

Johanna left out a sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose. She sat down into her chair, she had been walking around as she had the phone call. She knew quite well that the next meeting in the UCA was going to be tiresome but it was the only way to ensure no drastic actions could be taken on either her side and Dorothea’s side. She had sympathy for Dorothea, but geopolitics don’t allow for sympathy to make decisions. Her thoughts were broken however when she heard a cough behind her. As she turned around Olav stood there looking at her.

“Don’t you were way too harsh on her, or so it seems from how your responses was.” Olav said with a raised eyebrow.

“If anything I consider myself being too soft on her.” Johanna stated coldly as a clear frown was on her lips. “So why did you even come here, your majesty?” 
“Well I think we can talk about it later tomorrow of it, seeing the state of your office, I see that you stressed over the election.” Olav said with a small smile as he looked over at Johanna’s office that was filled with papers all over. “Good luck for the election.” As he said his goodbye he got an annoyed glare from Johanna as he left the room.

01:00 am, 20 November, 1370 ADN (2020), Balistrian southern coast, 3,000 nautical miles from Resa

A sigh, a sigh was all that left Dennis lips as he saw several missiles from three large krigs IRN destroyers in fleet was sent towards the city of Resa. Being so far away from the city of itself, he knows full well he can’t see the hits themselves, but knows full well that the city is being sent ablaze. Some Balistrian bombers and fighters was sent towards them to stop them, but with Norgsveltian fighter squads and his anti-air ships, the little force that was sent towards them was quickly gotten rid off. What Dennis have heard from his allies, the majority Balistrian navy and airforce has been far more focused towards Alksearia. In his oppinion his goverment has sent far more then was needed. With a quick order to his captains, that they will continue on to bombarging rest southern coast, from the reports he has gotten, the southern island portion of it is under anarchy. So… attacking Balistrian forces in the southern isles will weaken the goverment grip on the island. Quick message been given to the New Leganes admiral in the west to start bombarging the important cities and military sites in western coast. Though until the end of the night his fleet will continue to bombard Resa, from his fighters and bombers, to his detroyers and frigates, he will ensure Resa is flattened. He has split up his submarines to scout ahead and sink any ships trying to come east ward to stop their advance.

05:00 pm 20 November, 1370 ADN (2020), Osfjord, Norgsveldet.

“Absloutly not!”  Said a voice in full anger. Man in nicely dressed suite with large mustache around his early 50s. “You must think me mad! To think I would agree with forming a coalition, if you want to push forth with this insane plan then you are utterly insane, Miss Sverdrup!”

“Calm yourself, Varg.” A dark haired bearded elven man, that wore a similare black and white dress suite, said next to him. “If you agree with this, then your party gains the minister of agriculture development, ministry of finance and ministry of foreign affairs. I would call that a steal, for a party filled with simple minded farmers.”

“Hush it, Agnar!” Varg stated with venom in his voice as he stood up glaring at Agnar. “You really think, this peace deal that Dorothea want in Balistria would lead to peace?!”

“Balistrians showed very clearly they need to be put in place.” Agnar stated while rolling his eyes. “I thought your party was monarchists, you really showing sympathy to those who killed a king.” Agnar gave the man infront of him a small smirk as he stated that.

“You littl-” Varg started to say before he was interuption of feminine yell.

“THAT IS ENOUGH!” Johanna stated with a yell as she pinched the bridge of her nose, still sitting and her white hair covering her eyes. “You either agree with this proposal. Or. You. Leave. Is. That. Understood?” She stated in her typical cold tone, but one that neither man in the room has heard to be so cold. She gave glare towards the two men. As silence filled the room, sigh left Varg’s mouth as he walked up towards the door.

“Hope i see you in the opposition, Agnar.” Varg said in a low tone as he gave the elven man, one final glance. “Or else you going to regret it.” As such with that final warning, he thud of a door being closed could be heard. Though Agnar sat down and poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Want some?” Agnar said with a smile, gesturing to Johanna to give him her cup. “Miss. Prime Minister?”


October 31st, 2020
3 miles outside of Roshal, Alksearia
12:36pm

Whit’chest arrived in a military convoy surrounded by intense security. It was going to be a good day today. Everything was prepared. Today, the best message he could send to Alksearia would happen…well second to that of the death of that bastard of aking Eldras. To Whit’chest Eldras was doing the exact opposite of what he was saying. He promised aid, but instead offered oppression. He said he sent psychologists to Meagharia, but Whit’chest knew he sent propaganda specialists to indoctrinate Meagharia into hating Balistria. Well, that was going to end today. Today, Whit’chest would do something that would sent Alksearia to her knees and accept the supremacy of Balistria. Today. Today was the day.

He stepped up to a platform overlooking the small town of Roshal. A city lost after the end of the Great War. It was rightfully Balistrian and yet, look at what they did to their city. They corrupted it. A city that Balistria adored was polluted. Whit’chest couldn’t bear to look at it. A couple of his closest generals stepped up onto the platform also. The general on the right looked at him.

“Sir, we have everything ready for you. All we need to do is get the cameras set up. Do you have your speech ready?” the general asked.

“Of course I do. I’ve had this speech ready since I was first elected. Today, we establish ourselves on the worldstage, and make sure we interrupt the ANT broadcast! I cannot stand that fucking network.” Whit’chest said.

“Yes sir.” the general said.

For such a momentous day, it seemed as if everyone was dead on the inside. Whit’chest chuckled to himself. This will be a good teaching moment for all. They will be excited when he tells them to. Everyone will know the name Whit’chest. He turned around and saw the other general there. He had been leaning on the podium the whole time.

Whit’chest smirked, “and what do you have to add to today’s festivities?”

The general stopped leaning on the podium, “Well, I have a surprise for you. We captured some rebellious townsfolk last night. Instead of killing them on sight, we decided to have them be involved in today’s events. We have instituted a full lockdown of the town with no way in or out. We are going to round up the townspeople and have them watch the execution of their leaders, and then they’ll get to see the fireworks up close and personal.”

Whit’chest nodded, “I’m glad to hear. Those tor’shuk Alkari have poisoned our time. Time to teach them what happens when you poison perfection.”

Whit’chest stood proud for a moment. He breathed in, shockingly, clean fresh air. He was sorely surprised the Alksearians didn’t poison the air with their presence. He walked to the other end of the platform where he took a seat and watched everyone going around in a buzz. Showtime was in less than 30 minutes.


12:44pm
Inside Roshal

The darkness of the prison made it hard to tell if it was day or night, but to Jerome, it really didn’t matter. He would be dead sooner than later. He already has watched his friends and most of his family killed. He had nothing to lose. All he did was help his fellow townsfolk resist the Balistrian occupation. He prayed to Xaethos every hour he was in prison, and basically all through the night. All that was in his mind was the next life: the life he was promised for being a faithful follower. He even prayed he would be able to see Eldras one more time. He started praying with other prisoners who knew their fate just as well.

In the middle of one of their prayer circles, the soldiers busted in. One by one, they were pulled up, handcuffed on their hands, ankles, and necks before being walked out of the room. Once the prisoner left the room, a cloth bag was put over their head. This is the beginning of the end. Jerome thought to himself, May Xaethos have mercy on me.

When it was Jerome’s turn, he voluntarily stood up. They place the cuffs on his wrists and ankles and then his neck. He was close enough to read the name of one of the soldiers…or more accurately the number. The soldier who was cuffing him was 44015. The soldier who walked him over to the door was soldier 11502 and the guard who bagged him was soldier 33383. He walked forward with the assistance of multiple soldiers, and then tossed into the back of a van. The silence was deafening. They all knew what was coming…and they all silently prayed.

When Jerome came back to it, it was awfully bright out. He hadn’t seen the sun in a while, and yet, there it was illuminating the square where he was to meet his end. He was tied to a post facing the crowd. Past the crowd, he could see the Balistrian army blocking the streets with their trucks and other equipment. It seemed odd to him, but then he heard a voice over the speaker system.

“Citizens of Roshal, by orders of the Balistrian High Command, those in the town square are hereby sentenced to death for crimes against Balistria and for poisoning the town of Roshal. May Xaethos have mercy on your soul, as the Grand Emperor will have no mercy on you.”

For a moment, everything was calm, quiet, serene.

The panic started to set in, but it didn’t matter.

The silence engulfed everything.


12:50pm
Beneath Roshal

Conrad walked through a system of tunnels inspecting everything one last time. Passing multiple subordinates, he dismissed them from their posts and told them to join the group. After making sure everything was satisfactory, Conrad made his way through the tunnel system when he fell into a hole he didn’t notice earlier. He looked around worriedly, hoping, just hoping, he would have enough time to get out. He struggled for a few minutes before one of his subordinates came to help.

“Sir! Are you okay?” the soldier asked.

“I’m fine private. Get the hell out of the tunnel, you know what is going to happen!” Conrad responded.

“But sir…you’re our leader. We can’t…” the soldier continued.

“I do not care! Get out! That is a direct order from your commander!” Conrad yelled at him. The private refused to follow orders and instead came to help Conrad.

“Private, you are in so much trouble over this. Come on, I think we can make it out in a couple…” Conrad started. His radio went off.

“ATTENTION: The bossman started his speech a little earlier than expected. His signal is about to go off. All troops are mandated to get to the safety perimeter immediately. Through the Shadows, We Persevered.” the voice said.

Conrad stopped moving and looked at the private. He was probably going to be the last face he saw when he responded over the radio.

“Through the Shadows, We Persevered.” Conrad said.

“Through the Shadows, We Persevered.” The private responded.


12:55pm
2 miles outside Roshal

Whit’chest stood up and walked over to the podium. He looked at the high command gathered in front of him. Without hesitation, Whit’chest took his position behind the podium. It was time.

“Are all the cameras set?” Whit’chest asked.

“Yes sir, but…” one soldier started.

“But nothing. I’m ready now, and if everything is in order, then we should start.” Whit’chest remarked.

“Yes sir. One moment for the transmission to be intercepted…aaannnddd….we…are….a go!” the soldier said.

Whit’chest watched the light on the camera go from off to blue to green to finally red. It was time for the speech he had been waiting for all his life. It was finally here: the time of Alksearia’s fall.

https://www.tapatalk.com/groups/the_east_pacific/viewtopic.php?p=245903#p245903

“A ‘stain?’ Isn’t that a bit like the pot calling the kettle black?” Eoforwine laughed, but it was a dry, somewhat broken thing. The stresses of the Karolingian crisis had taken a massive toll on them.

Eadweard nodded. “Balistrian hypocrisy at its peak.”

“And to think that they figured that their regicide of Eldras didn’t go far enough…”

“Any changes to the plan, Mr. Prime Minister?”

“Send more incendiary weapons. Especially the white phosphorus.”

Sæwine spoke up. “With all due respect, Mr. Eoforwine, isn’t that a war crime?”

“You speak of ‘war crimes,’ as if Balistria gave a single damn about the laws of war.” Eoforwine sipped his coffee, hands tremoring.

Sæwine seemed disturbed by Eoforwine’s words. “…Anyway, should we release a statement?”

Eoforwine shook his head. “What difference does it make, anyway? Kingdom, Empire, it hardly matters. As long as they’re flammable, we can turn them into ashes.”

(OOC: Joint post with Shadow)

St. Matthias, Alksearia
November 5, 2020
1430 Hours, Local Time

“Captain. The planes are fully loaded.”

Captain Eadweard, who commanded one of the flights of aircraft that were flying today, nodded. “Thank you, Oswine.” He quickly saluted the logistics officer and was on his way.

The Tretridian strategic bombers were already being scrambled, as were the Alksearian air superiority fighters that would be keeping everyone safe on this mission.

As he rushed to reach his own aircraft, he recalled the briefing.

They would be attacking Ouroboros today. The primary strategic target was the military base there. They would bomb the buildings and try to destroy as much materiel as possible.

They would also be targeting industrial centers in the city.

There was something that troubled the captain, though. The general who gave the briefing told the airmen that they could apply for reassignment free of consequence, for those who had objections to the nature of their mission.

He reassured the airmen that there was nothing wrong with this.

Why did he need to say that? Eadweard had a bad feeling about it.
[hr]
The aircraft were reaching Balistrian airspace now. Alkari air forces had already scouted the target beforehand, and tactical bombers had already eliminated anti-air installations.

Whether enemy fighters would be scrambled to meet the threat remained to be seen.

So far, so good.

At this point, the military base was in sight. The bomb bays were open, and the targeting systems were engaged.

At the right time, the payload—incendiary bombs—were released, and fell down towards their target.

[hr]

On the ground, military personnel watched the planes fill the sky like clouds. The incoming swarm of planes put the base on high alert. Most of their Anti-Air was already disabled, but that didn’t stop the soldiers from trying to stop the planes. Most of them took out personal anti-air weapons and started shooting at the planes as they approached.

But it was too late.

Before long, the base was being stuck by explosives from the sky that erupted into massive fireballs. The sounds of the engines drowned out the screaming of the Ursines that were set on fire.

The one armory on the base was struck by one of the explosives and it blew anything and everything up that was around it. The fires started igniting the ground and all the buildings around it. The sounds of Ursines screaming in agony could be barely heard as the planes flew overhead.

The base was rendered useless…no, inoperable by the firebombing. For Balistria, this was a failure, but for their enemies, this was a massive victory. As the planes grew more distant, those who were left alive fled the base to get away from the screams of their fellow soldiers.

[hr]
The destruction can even be seen all the way from the planes. From the fireballs, to the conflagration, to the destruction. It was clear that the base had been demolished.

With the Ouroboros military base sufficiently destroyed, the bombers flew on to their next target: the city itself.

This was total war, after all, and so they needed to utterly cripple Balistria’s ability to fight.

Their main targets were the factories of the city, the industrial centers, but they were also briefed on major government buildings. They would do well to destroy those, as well.

It didn’t take long for the target to be in sight. The factories were still releasing their usual plumes from their smokestacks, and had they not been about to be firebombed, it could have been just another day for them.

Well, so much for that. For the incendiary bombs rained down on the industrial centers and government buildings too.
[hr]

On the ground, Balistrian citizens went about their normal days chugging away at the war machine they didn’t know existed. Most citizens worked in the factory or if they had a cushy government job, they went to the Government complex in the middle of the city. For some of them, this was just a normal day

Until the airplanes came.

The sky started to fill up with planes. It was almost like an infestation of them. Some of the people prayed for the Balistrian air force to come quickly while others fled for their lives. Air raid sirens blared through the city. People fled for their lives. The government complex shut its doors to anyone who was not inside their walls. The panic was felt all around.

And then, the bombs started to drop.

At first, it looked like regular bombs, and then the fireballs started exploding. The screams of terror and pain rained through the city. Everyone fled to find somewhere to hide and stay protected. The bombing destroyed the factories and the surrounding area. The fire engulfed most of what was the industrial area. Most people thought that bombing would be over.

But they were far from right.

A second round of bombing hit the government complex. The building that housed the Council of Viziers and the Deputy Chamber was a mishmash of on fire and destroyed. The screams rang out from behind the walls, but the walls were not touched. The fire destroyed anything inside the walls, but didn’t touch anything outside the walls. The screams however could be heard from outside the wall. The fire crackled and could be seen all over the city.

Today was a dark day for Balistria.
[hr]
Naturally, whatever was a dark day for Balistria was also a victory for the coalition that opposed it. But in this case, it was especially a victory for the Alksearian and Tretridian planes.

Their targets destroyed, the planes turned and flew back towards Alksearia.

They were nearly back in friendly airspace by the time the Balistrian interceptors arrived.

Or, that is, not arrived so much as showed up on the aircrafts’ radar screens.

The Alksearian planes broke formation and turned to fly towards this new threat, while the Tretridian bombers continued on to friendly airspace.

On their shared radio, an Alkari pilot speaks, “Squadron 1, we got enemies inbound at 85 degrees. Proceed….”

The pilot’s message was cut off as an explosion happened in the sky. The fight was on.

The Alkari planes immediately locked on to the inbound enemies and fired their medium-range missiles. Hopefully the radar-guided munitions would end it before the planes entered visual range.

Some of the Balistrian planes coming at the Alksearian and Tertridian planes split from formation. They had one simple objective: blow them out of the sky. One of the Balistrian fighters flew directly at one of the planes before colliding with an Alkari plane defending the Tretridian bombers.

The fuel tank of the Balistrian fighter exploded, while an entire tailplane of the Alkari fighter was taken out. While the fighter survived, it was essentially forced to drop out of the engagement.

The other Alkari fighters did better, managing to lock on to the Balistrian aircraft and firing their air-to-air missiles.

The Balistrian air numbers dwindled. They were heavily outnumbered, and in some capacity, out-classed. An order to retreat was given, but a few broke rank and tried to kamikazee into one of the Tretridian bombers.

The bombers took evasive maneuvers, while the Alkari fighters targeting those Balistrian fighters were forced to use their machine guns to attack their enemy. They couldn’t risk destroying the Tretridian bombers through friendly fire.

After intense fighting, the Balistrians peeled back. They couldn’t risk ground-to-air shooting them down with how far they had gotten. The failed kamikaze attack was basically the nail in the coffin for the Balistrians. They not only lost, but this was basically the start of the end for them.

The Alkari gave chase, quickly locking on to the Balistrians.

“Fox two!” One of the planes signalled, giving the usual code word for releasing a missile.

Several other of the Alkari fighters followed suit, firing some of their own missiles at the retreating Balistrians.

For a brief moment, it seems as if the Balistrians would make it back safely. Before long, they hoped that the missile barrage would just end.  Before long, the last of the Balistrian pilots said their prayers to the God-Emporoer before the last of them were shot down.  Of the 20? Planes that flew to intercept, none would return home. A heavy loss for the Balistrians.

The Balistrian flight eliminated, the aircraft flew back for St. Matthias. They would have much to celebrate once they got back safely.

(OOC: Joint post with Shadow)

5th November, 2020
Rilanon, Christie Island

The man left the Forum Building, not long after the vote had begun to remove Balistria from the IF. He had consulted with the Ambassador of the Suvani SR on the matter of if  it was a worthwhile effort to end the life of what would be by then a former ambassador to the IF. Mr Altantsetseg gave him the go ahead. In all fairness, anyone in that lounge might have at least considered such action against Ambassador Tor’kum. The Army of Progress were simply the ones willing to make it happen.

The man, you see, was placed within the forum by the Suvani Socialist Republic in continued cooperation with the Army of Progress. He had originally no plan to act in any way that would disturb the order, but in the undeclared war against Balistria, his superiors decided it would be apt to send a message. Nobody would miss that sack of shit, in any case. And so, the simple ear in the forum turned terrorist would begin his plan. Time was ticking quickly as the vote drew nearer its conclusion, and the AoP agent wanted to make sure the plan was enacted before the Balistrian drove out of the Forum. Or well, more aptly put as attempted to drive out of the Forum. As far as the AoP should desire, he would not be going anywhere.

Planting a VBIED was not hard, but getting one at such short notice was. It was lucky, then, that the attacker was working for a global terrorist organisation. The man had to pull a few strings, but by the evening he had his bomb. The target was still in his office, thank god, - or, well, thank no god - making it rather easy to reach the car in the dark without much notice by its owner. Then, shoelace around the door, simple slip knot to tie around the knob and

Click

As simple as that, the door was open with an unceremonious willingness to be so. From there, the man nonchalantly got into the vehicle and planted the device to the accelerator. Not at all a large bomb, probably only enough to kill those inside when that pedal was pressed down upon. Perfect for this purpose.

The man, as casual in his entrance to the car, exited it, humming to himself as he began his walk to the embassy of the nation that gave him their patronage, waiting for time to tick down to the point in which the vote on Balistria’s expulsion would have been completed. If all went as planned, Balistria would not only lose their membership within the IF, but also the life of Ambassador Tor’kum. A man who stood against Progress.

Around 5pm,
Outside the  International Forum

The ex-Ambassadors Alt’va and Tor’kum were not exactly pleased as they were shoved out the door of the forum.  They both walked toward their car parked near the front of the Forum.  Alt’va expressed his…dismay.

“Those fucking Alkari simps.  They don’t understand Progress or how fucking disgusting the Alkari are.  They’ll listen to anyone who isn’t us. You know, I want to…” Alt’va said before he was cut off.

“They’re already against us, sir.  We just have to press forward and claim Alksearia in the manner that the Grand Emperor declared.  It is only our duty now.” Tor’kum remarked.

“That’s assuming we win and are allowed back.” Alt’va said.

“Don’t worry.  I’ll order the military to blow the International Forum to the ground.” Tor’kum remarked.

They both shared a hearty laugh at the prospect.  It would bring so much joy to them.  They both approached the car and got into it.  Today, the IF would never forget them.  They were going to show them.

That is, they were going to, but nothing went their way.

As Alt’va put the car into reverse and stepped on the gas, there was only one sound that was heard coming out of the garage.

BOOM!!!

The sound rang out from the car as the device detonated, leaving not a slither of hope for the survival of those who had unwittingly sat themselves inside what was to become a burning tomb of metal and glass. There was no yell in agony, no cry for help. The only signifier of the deaths was the deafening battle cry of the explosive and the remains of a car and its passengers malformed into an unceremonious funeral pyre.

November 5th, 2020
Unspecified location, Balistrian-occupied Alksearia
9:33pm

Through the cover of night, a general weaves through the hillside looking for the Gran Emperor’s convoy. It usually hides in the hills during the day to prevent bombing runs and moves during the night. The general hoped that the convoy hadn’t started to move yet.

And he was right.

The general made his way to the convoy hoping the meeting hadn’t started yet. Everything always started on time religiously. Somehow today, the meeting hadn’t started, and even better, he was there before the Grand Emperor. They all filed into the Mobile Meeting Vehicle. They all sat down in their respective chairs, and waited.

And waited. For a moment, a few generals thought the Grand Emperor was dead. One general stood up and moved to the Grand Emperor’s spot at the front of the table.

“Look, it’s already 9:50. We all know that if the Grand Emperor isn’t here, we all know what this means. We are the council of men who will keep running the Empire during this war. It is only logical…” the one general started.

“I’m sorry, are you assuming he is dead?” Another said.

“I’m not assuming, I’m suggesting. Plus, we have contingency plans. It wouldn’t be hard to start executing the power of the Emperor without needing…” the first general started.

The door behind him opened. A familiar figure stepped out of the door way and behind the first general.

“Are you trying to usurp me?” Whit’chest asked.

“No, sir. Not at all, sir. I was just….” the general started to say before he stopped speaking, holding in a scream. The general sank to the ground. The Grand Emperor step forward to the top of the table and looked at the rest of the generals.

“Bal’azzar, give me an updated report on what is going on.” Whit’chest said.

Fuck, I was hoping he wouldn’t have me speak. Bal’azzar thought to himself as he rose.

He looked at Whit’chest before speaking, “Well….following the vote to condemn Balistria in the International Forum, there was a vote to expel our ambassadors and our nation from the IF. It concluded with the expulsion of our ambassadors Alt’va Tor’kum and Ter’meck Tor’kum from the IF. They were on their way home after being expelled…when….we have reports of a car bomb going off killing them before they could even leave the garage. In addition, the old capital Ouroborous was firebombed by an air raid of Alkari and Tretridian fighters and bombers….they are no survivors….The Tor’kum Military Base is fully out of commission and burned to the ground.”

Whit’chest looked at the table for a couple minutes absorbing all the information. Bal’azzar stood waiting for further orders hoping he wouldn’t end up like the general on the floor. He started silently saying his prayers. After a couple more minutes of silence, Whit’chest spoke again.

“Well, I guess we just have to add the IF to our list of targets. Christie Island could use some excitement, but that’s for after the war. General Bal’azzar?” Whit’chest said. Bal’azzar snaps his head up to look at the Grand Emperor, “I hereby command you to proceed with Operation: Death March. Alksearia is behind all of these transgressions, and it is time to denounce their actions to the world. Get the camera ready. I’ll have a statement in 10.”

Bal’azzar stands up and salutes, “Yes, sir. Right away sir. Would you like us to start tonight or in the morning?”

Whit’chest looks at him, “If you can get your underlings to start tonight, perfect. If not, tomorrow morning it is. And remember, leave no survivors. As for those who have died, they will be seated at the heavenly table that I will ascend to when my time here is done. I am the next iteration of Xaethos, and I will dethrone him.”

Ba’azzar salutes and sits back down. He wants to be here for the Press release. Whit’chest stood there for a moment before signaling for everyone to get ready for the Press release. Another Easy hack into the ANT airwaves should be enough…

https://www.tapatalk.com/groups/the_east_pacific/viewtopic.php?p=246209#p246209

(OOC: Posted with Shadow’s blessing)

Over Balistrian-held territories in Alksearia

Tretridian tactical bombers were making the rounds again. Their roles weren’t that similar to their strategic bombing counterparts, as these bombers sought to directly attack the enemy instead of targeting their ability to fight.

While Tretrid had a particular lack of empathy for the Balistrian people (though again, it had a particular lack of empathy in general), they were downright sociopathic in how they went after the soldiers.

After all, the old adage always seemed to hold strong. Inter arma enim silent leges.

Among arms, the laws fall silent.

This was war, after all. What did the treaties, the written words on paper, mean? Especially when the Balistrians showed no regard for them?

And that was why the munitions the bombers were carrying were distinctively marked. Both with the Tretridian “ᚻᚠ”, and the Staynish “WP”.

For these bombs were white phosphorus weapons.

As the bombs were released from their aircraft, guided by a targeting system to their target, it was lost on nobody in the Tretridian command structure the enormity of the usage of white phosphorus munitions.

Sure, it technically wasn’t a war crime, strictly speaking, as Tretrid strictly maintained that such weapons were used exclusively for using its thick white fumes as a signal.

But was that really true?

As the bombs exploded above Balistrian positions, releasing pyrophoric globs of white phosphorus flying in every direction, could it not have been for its forbidden use as an incendiary?

And as the toxic, thick white cloud of phosphoric acid descended on the screaming, burning Balistrians, puting the ursines into agony, how could Tretrid claim that they weren’t using chemical weapons?

Cynebury, Tretrid

“…You’d think a state would have a more formal, less vulgar tone to refer to its enemies than ‘simps for the Alkari,’ but you’d be mistaken apparently,” Eoforwine deadpanned.

Eoforwine looked a lot better than he did the last time ANT got hijacked. A lot of that was because his cabinet pressured him into taking a few days’ leave from his duties to recuperate.

Foreign Minister Sæwine nodded. “I could send you a copy of the Ambassador to the IF’s report. It’s… quite something. Multiple fights in one day and a terrorist attack is… quite something. I’m sure the IF is glad to see Balistria gone.”

“Please do so, Mr. Sæwine. I know I’ll regret reading it, but I just have to know. Mr. Eadweard, any updates on the war?”

Defense Minister Eadweard nodded. “Projections show that the Balistrians may still make momentum until futher coalition reinforcements arrive.”

“Dammit, we need their advance stopped immediately. You’ve both seen the news, those Balistrians are committing genocide out there While we waffle, more Alkari are dying.” Eoforwine let out a sigh. “Any good news?”

“The after-action report on our most recent strategic bombing campaign was released this morning. There’ll no doubt be a copy on your desk by the time you get back to your office, but in brief we’re making good progress. We’ve made massive blows against their industry, and the Ouroboros base is completely useless.”

Eoforwine nodded and considered his situation for a moment. “Tell the high command to intensify their tactical bombing campaigns. We must stop the Balistrian advance, at all costs. Every moment wasted is another Alksearian killed. I don’t care how grisly the Balistrians meet their demise, as long as the do so promptly. White phosphorus, incendiaries, heck, even use mustard gas if you see fit!”

Sæwine glanced at Eadweard, before giving a very concerned look to the Prime Minister. He said nothing, however.

The Defense Minister nodded. “I’ll relay the orders, then.”

November 6th, 2020
Near Resa, southern Balistria
04:22 AM local time

“Well? Now or never, right?”

General Lakar Tevríš exhaled a long breath through his nose and looked out over the horizon. It was still night, and the only light came from the city in the distance. He nodded solemnly to his aide-de-camp. Everything was in place, and they couldn’t afford to wait any longer. “Mission status is green. Go.”

Of the Tavari troops pledged to the Balistrian Coalition War, the Royal Tavari Army arrived first. The Royal Navy was on its way, but moved much more slowly than ground troops could. There were a few planes as well, but not many - the bulk of the Royal Tavari Air Force was already involved in Ni-Rao. In truth, General Tevríš couldn’t shake the lingering worry that they wouldn’t have enough air support. He still had nightmares about the slaughter of Tavari troops in Gossenmark in the Arkian Civil War. He was terrified that they would end up sitting ducks out here. But at the end of the day, that’s what war was. Terrifying. Regardless of how scared he was, orders were still orders. And Balistria needed to fall.

The target was the Balistrian city of Resa, one of the largest metropolitan areas in southern Balistria. Since the outbreak of violence with Alksearia (which was a polite way of describing events), the Balistrian south had seen incredible amounts of civil unrest. Always a region that tended to resist control from relatively distant Ouroboros, Resa and the south were almost in a state of anarchy. The Balistrian government itself was chaotic enough to predict. The absolute chaos in Resa was another threat entirely, and it was a threat that needed to be eliminated from the state of play.

That was the General’s job. And he intended to do it.

Not even 30 seconds after the General had given the order, the roar of jet aircraft flying low over the city shattered the silence of the early Balistrian morning. The jets had the hardest job - they had one chance to completely eliminate Resa’s own aircraft. The element of surprise only gave the Tavari a head start, and they had to take advantage of it to absolutely wipe out the possibility of Balistrian military response. They could not allow the Balistrian Air Force to wrest control of the skies from them.

Just barely audible under the roar of the jets was the deep rumbling of tanks and armored personnel carriers. This was not merely a bombing run, it was an occupation. They had taken with them as many of the Colinarius Mark 2 tanks as they could, the newest and most powerful they had. Part of it almost seemed surreal to be fighting in an actual, bonafide, Diet-declared war. Sure, he had quite literally trained for it his entire career, but one never really expects to actually fight in one. Or, at least, he had hoped he wouldn’t.

Suddenly, the world was much brighter. Bombs from Tavari jets were falling on the industrial section of the city - empty at this time of the day. There was a bridge in that section of the city that was a target as well, as were the seaport and airport. Shock and awe was the name of the game. The General thought for a moment about cars on the bridges or planes taxiing on the runway, but he shook his head to dispel his thoughts. He couldn’t focus on that or he wouldn’t be able to do his job. War was war.

The tanks and carriers began to move in. They were staged a small distance from the city, on a section of coastline that they had secured from scattered Balistrian defenders in the middle of the night. There were relatively fewer Balistrian troops here, as they were primarily stationed either in Alksearia or near to it. That was how anarchy had been able to take hold in Resa in the first place - Balistria just couldn’t respond. The General hoped that would continue to hold true.

“Sir, target 11 appears to have people in it, a lot of them,” came a voice over the radio. “It’s the concrete plant.”

The General didn’t hesitate. “You are clear to proceed. Repeat: clear to proceed,” he said. Concrete could repair the airport runways or provide defensive fortification. “All targets in the bombing zone are industrial and are pre-cleared. Do not radio for authorization. Proceed to bomb targets as ordered.” There was a chorus of various units acknowledging. The General didn’t bother to really pay attention to them. Every few seconds was another flash of light in the distance, and the General didn’t pay attention to those, either.

“Seeing no bogies on radar,” someone said over the radio. General Tevríš wanted to breathe a sigh of relief but he knew it was far too early for that. And at any rate, any feeling of relief he might have had was brief. It was hard to fight in a war, but it was even harder to supervise one - all the General could do was wait at the improvised headquarters they had set up and listen to reports on the radio.

“Ground teams Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie are crossing the urban perimeter now.”

“Romeo 7 and Romeo 8, reroute north-northeast and take out the power plant.”

“Targets 14 and 15 eliminated.”

“Major fire in target zone quadrant 2, looks like a gas line- correction, fires in quadrants 2, 3, and 4. Spreading outside target zone.”

“I’ve got visuals on the ground, a pipeline was breached at target 15. Looks like the line goes underground. Or it did.”

“Since when was there a whole fucking pipeline there? And where the hell does it go, there’s fires shooting up everywhere! What great fucking intel we have!”

“Akronašta mani!,” someone swore over the radio. “Akronašta vantakíšt mani!” General Tevríš could not see what was happening, but he could see a massive plume of smoke in the distance and every light in the city go out. “That was a massive fireball at the power plant! Quadrant 2 is… it’s just completely gone!”

“I thought this was a coal plant, not an oil plant!”

“Ademar Uktavas, look at that smoke! It’s blowing right over the river to the other side of the city! Akrona weeps!”

“Visibility in target zone decreasing rapidly!”

“Missiles launched at targets 16 and 17, I can’t confirm a hit through the smoke.”

“I’m seeing smoke rise from the residential district along the river, I can’t confirm if it’s from the pipeline leak or-”

The General turned down the radio. “Let me know if there’s something that needs my attention,” he muttered to his aide-de-camp. Listening too closely would only raise his blood pressure. Chaos had gripped the city now, and since he wasn’t out there flying the planes, there was little he could do now except wait.

“Ground Team Alpha has entered the CBD. Bravo and Charlie are approaching the government building complex,” his aide said in a low voice, catching on to the General’s rising stress level. “Getting reports of very little resistance. Just minor weapons fire from local police so far.”

“Any movement from that air base to the northwest?”

The aide was silent for a few moments as he sent a few text messages to various people. “Sirens and lights are on. We’ll probably be seeing some response here in the next few minutes, but the base isn’t anywhere near fully staffed.”

The General steepled his fingers and thought about his options for only just a few seconds before making up his mind. He grabs the radio and speaks in a growling tone. “Romeo 1, 2, and 3, continue to sweep between the seaport and the airport. All other flight teams, divert course to the air base in the northwest. They’re about to wake up, we have one shot to blow them out before they blow us out.”

“Acknowledged!” Several people said on the radio at once.

The General set the radio back down with a solid thunk. He continued to stare at it for a moment, and then turned it off. “Keep me updated,” he said to his aide, in a tone of voice that clearly implied “do not speak to me unless it’s absolutely critical.”

Instead of staring toward the city, he turned to look toward the sea. He could only barely hear the sea over the sound of the war behind him, but he focused on it as hard as he could. The slow push in and out of the waves on the beach, back and forth. The same ocean was doing the very same on the beaches he had grown up on in Tavaris. He wished he could be back there, young, carefree, gleefully running along the beach and trying his hardest to get splashed. Those days were long gone, and he likely wouldn’t be seeing home any time soon.

“Sir, hostiles eliminated at the airbase. We’ve taken some heavy damage and the remaining teams are out of munitions.”

“Bring them back and send out the Victor teams. Run sweeps over the city, focus on providing air cover to the ground troops. Ground teams Delta, Foxtrot, and Golf are going to need help at the highway blockades,” the General barked, still staring at the sea. “I want bombs to keep dropping until sunrise at least. Victor 1 and Victor 2 should focus on the two rail depots.”

“Two rail depots, sir?” His aide’s voice got even lower, perhaps because he was afraid to ask. The General knew why he was hesitating.

“Affirmative. The industrial depot in the west and the passenger depot in the city center. It’s a state-owned rail company and we know they move soldiers on those tracks. Oh, have Victor 3 take out the rail connections as well. I want this city cut off from civilization. No one in but us, no one out but us.”

“Yes, sir.” The aide spoke forcefully now, apparently satisfied with the General’s response. Maybe he wasn’t, the General wondered. Maybe he was afraid he had just witnessed his government commit a dubious action. Maybe he would lose sleep tonight. Well, the General would too. But not much. War itself was a dubious action. Just a series of terrible choices to make, one after another, in quick succession. There was no high ground. There wasn’t even any winning. There was just surviving.

Lakar Tevríš intended for Tavaris to survive.

(OOC: Joint Post with [mention]Meagharia[/mention])

(OOC: GRAPHIC CONTENT AHEAD, LOTS OF SWEARS AND YELLING TOO)
15th November 2020
4th Haoine, 40 BA
Orzieu Plains
7:00am

Colonel Brigid was tired, but in that familiar way that had defined her entire childhood. Tired from constant fighting, fortunately a year had not been enough to dull her tactical or fighting skills. She had decided on a morning attack, her scouts had been watching their positions, this time was right before their last night watch switched out, when they would be at their most vulnerable. Her Comrade-Soldiers gathered, and silently made their way to the enemy encampments, war paint making their pale faces harder to see in the brush. Suddenly they emerged, and quickly overwhelmed the initial resistance against them, quickly advancing with Bayonets and Machetes facing forwards.

Most of the Balistrians in the camp were still half asleep. The only ones fully awake were the Ursines on patrol. The moment a flood of…children? The Ursines on patrol were very confused until the weapons were brandished

Then all hell broke loose.

Immediately, The sounds of gunshots startled most of the Ursines who were sleeping awake, but for most of them it was too late. Some were bound and gagged better than they were in training. Others tried to fight against the children and we stabbed to death quickly. The Ursines on patrol loaded their guns, and without thinking about it, started shooting at the rushing children. The Balistrians had not seen such fighting tactics since…well, themselves. It was a panic, and there was no room to consider what was going on. One Balistrian tried to send an SOS signal over the radio and was brought down within seconds.

An almost mad smile came across Brigid’s face. She had entered a state that was often described among officers in Meagharia. A state of serenity, despite the chaos of the battlefield. The initial attack had gone incredibly well, but they were facing harsh resistance. Brigid’s Machete was out, and she was able to continue to give orders while fighting. She felt a Ballistrian bullet graze her cheek, that would leave a scar.

But as the battle continued some of the Ballistrians were able to come to their senses, especially the surviving Patrollers. The small positions they held were hopeless, but they were able to hold back many of the children before those outside of their range could surround them, and wipe them out. But after about an hour, the battlefield became quiet, and the captured Ballistrians were rounded up and put under guard.

Brigid and some of the others quickly began surveying the captured camp in order to look for casualties. Casualties were lighter than they could have been, but higher than expected. Brigid found one of the bodies face down in the dirt, she turned over the girls face. Brigid recognized her, it was Caetrin Caelin, the daughter of the Meagharian Ambassador to the International Forum. In all 30 of the Lambs Brigade were found dead by the end of the search, and Brigid was filled with an indescribable rage, as were the rest of the Brigade, they all nodded silently, they knew what they had to do. Brigid called the Alkari regional command, she needed to get her wounded out of there before she could deal with her prisoners.

“Holy shit, who the fuck…” the Alkari said on the phone.

“Sir, the operation is complete. We have a group of prisoners, and some casualties. If you could arrange for my troops to have a funeral this afternoon I would appreciate that, they definitely need some closure.” Brigid waited for the officer to respond.

“Who…” the officer started to say before his brain turned on, “Did you say you have prisoners and dead soldiers?? Ma’am, who authorized your mission???”

“Someone higher up the food chain than you I assume. Point is there’s a wiped out Ballistrian encampment.”

A sigh could be heard on the other side of the line, “I’ll have support out to you in 20 minutes. Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime. Fucking children…” As the line cuts off, Brigid could hear the Alkari officer swearing at himself.

Brigid sighs. If there was one specific thing she missed about Meagharia, it was being treated like actual soldiers instead of just being children. She and her men probably had more actual combat experience than any of those other soldiers, but they still treated them like they were incompetent. Brigid called out to her troops “Get the prisoners ready for transport! And …Prepare our casualties for a funeral…”


8:44am

The first of the transport convoys arrived. The sight of dead children unsettled the Alkari soldiers. They knew of the dead in the south, but the sight of them in person…a couple Alkari considered defecting to get away.

The trucks pulled up as close as they could, and the drivers got off and helped transport the dead into one truck and started chaining the prisoners in the other. Another couple trucks pulled in before a deep voice pierced through the morning air,

“WHERE IS BRIGID?” the officer yelled.

Brigid was marching alongside her troops. Her head perked up as her name was called. “I’m right here!” She raised her hand as she spoke.

“Over here. Now.” The officer commanded. Most of the Alkari around knew what was about to go down. The question was who was going to be begging for mercy first: Brigid or the Officer.
“If you insist.” She gestured for her other commanders Nuala and Brenden to follow her. Her senses told her she would need the support. “What is it you wish to discuss? I don’t want this to take any longer than it has to. I have some important things to prepare this afternoon.” She gestured to the bodies of her dead soldiers, all wrapped in their Burial shrouds, coated in a certain tree sap only found in Meagharia. “And then of course there are the prisoners to deal with.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll deal with those later. Who told you that you could sneak into enemy territory and capture a whole squad WITHOUT allowing an Alkari officer to be present??” The Officer barked.

“The Arrival of an Alkari officer could have tipped off the Ballistrians to an incoming attack. It was decided that it was too much of a risk. Besides, the mission was completed with haste. This was all authorized by Grandmaster General Jacques.”

“I’m sorry. There’s no way the Grandmaster himself would let a child into a warzone, let alone authorize a dangerous operation like this. I am seizing command of the brigade and I’m going to have you all sent home. This is no place for children.” the Officer ordered.

“What is your rank Soldier?”

“Soldier??? I am a Lieutenant of the 18th Division.”

“I am Colonel Brigid Aodha of the Lamb’s Brigade, even if you had the rank to dislodge my men, I have sanction from Her Majesty to fight here.”

“Whatever. Get your ‘men’ into the trucks. We will phone back to Her Royal Majesty when we get back to safety.” The Lt. said before walking back to one of the trucks and getting into it.

“Alright, lieutenant, just cease your insubordination until then.” Brigid and her officers organized her soldiers and prepared to roll out.


9:12am

The first of the convoy trucks arrived from the encampment. The dead were offloaded, and the living prisoners were shown where they could go. One of the Sergeants of the Alkari army approached Brigid.

“Ma’am, what what you like to do with the berauqes…I mean, the Balistrians.” the sergeant says.

“Well Sergeant, theres a little method we used during the Civil War that I think would work perfectly here, if you’re amenable to breaking a few ‘rules of war’.” Brigid whispered what she had in mind to the sergeant. “We’ll need a couple hammers and nails of course, but the trees should work pretty well for our purposes.”

“Right away ma’am.” The Alkari soldier saluted Brigid and went and organized his fellow soldiers to get hammers and nails. An odd request, but honestly, fuck the Balistrians. The entire nation is still mourning the loss of Roshal.

While she waited for the requested materials Brigid walked over to the funeral pyres being prepared for the dead. Her troops had gathered brush from the nearby woods, each small pyre being exactly 2 feet away from one another. While the Shrouds on each Soldier were of the same shape, they each looked slightly different, each made by some family member, either a parent, or a sibling, or in some cases, themselves, with different cloth being visible.

Brigid’s gaze fell on the shroud of Caetrin, the daughter of the ambassador. It was a shame, these soldiers had fought all their lives, only to die thousands of Kilometers from home. She couldnt help the tears welling in her eyes. “Too soon.” Brigid waited for the requested material to arrive, she wanted her troops to be able to take vengeance immediately after the ceremony.

Some of the Alkari noticed what was going on and came to help build the pyres themselves too. Slowly, the remaining resources were brought to Brigid.

“Ma’am, we have all the nails and hammers we could find. Is there anything else you need us to do?..more specifically, do you want us to give you all some time?” the Sergeant asked.

“No Sergeant, I think this should be sufficient. They have passed, we need to find closure as quickly as possible. Just bring the Ballistrian prisoners over here for us, we can handle the rest, unless some of your men would like to join in the aftermath.”

With that said Brigid called over the 29 other soldiers she had chosen to light the pyres, choosing the ones who had been closest to each of the deceased. As they wrapped the oil soaked cloth around their torches Brigid focused on one 14 year old boy, Eoin, standing over the body of his older brother, Padraig, with steely determination. Brigid stood over the body of Caetrin, in the center of the display, and starting with her, all 30 torches lit one by one. Brigid shouted an order “Engulf!” and every torch was stuck deep into the pyres simultaneously, the sap soaked shrouds burning like candles in seconds.

A sigh of closure spread through the Meagharians, and then Brigid gave one more silent order, snapping her fingers three times. The children immediately took up the hammers and, in groups, seized the Ballistrian prisoners, dragging them over towards the treeline. As Brigid and the other Pyrelighters gathered a small collection of the ashes of each of their dead comrades, the living hoisted the prisoners up into the trees, and nailed their limbs spread eagle into the trunks. As Brigid completed her collection, she called out to the Alkari “Feel free to join in!”, before gingerly placing the Standardized Urn into her pack, and rushing to join the crucifixions.

For a moment, the Alkari soldiers went from being in silence respecting the children that went off to war to sheer shock at watching the barbarity of the crucifixions. Slowly however, the Sergeant walked up and said, “Wait, I have a better idea on how to crucify them.” He went to collect a couple large poles that look like they could support an Ursine and gathered a couple men together. They strung the poles together as tightly as possible, even carving the poles to fit together better, and then nailed the Balistrian to it laying down. Spreading an Ursine wide was a challenge, especially as the Ursine screamed and roared in protest of the nailing. Once the Balistrian was successfully nailed, the group of soldiers dug a wide enough hole to put the cross in and hoisted the Balistrian up.

The screams from the Balistrian pierced the air over the water, but his screams were met with cheers of excitement and happiness. To the Alkari, this was not just cathartic, but also a form of revenge. Killing vast amounts of Alkari had its consequences, and they were going to pay. The last thing one of the soldiers did as the Ursine screamed and gasped for air was douse the Ursine in the oil from the funeral pyres, and lit the Ursine on fire.

The Alkari didn’t care about the screams of pain and anguish from the cross they put the Balistrian on. At this point, all they saw was something to celebrate.

Brigid, giggling the whole time, shouted “That’s the spirit!” The children laughed as they took the Alkari’s idea, and even set a few of the Ballistrians already nailed to the trees alight with the Pyre torches. Many of them haven’t felt this excited since the Milofite Council had been beheaded.

All of a sudden, one of the last convoy trucks arrived. The celebration was cut off quickly for the Alkari who all realized who it was. They all knew what was about to happen…and hopefully none of them would be Marshalled for their actions. Just as the truck slowed down enough, a man jumped out of the truck screaming his head off at all the soldiers.

“GET THE FUCK INTO FORMATION! WHO IN THEIR RIGHTFUL XAETHOS’S MIND GAVE YOU THIS COMMAND??? AND WHERE THE HELL IS THAT IDIOT BRIGID???” the Lieutenant yelled, “ALL OF YOU ARE WILL BE UNDER MARSHALL ONCE I CALL HER ROYAL MAJESTY ABOUT THIS!!!”

November 10th, 2020
[REDACTED], Balistria occupied Alksearia

It has been over a week since the Balistrians made any advancements.

Everything was stalling. Morale, reinforcements, equipment. The Coalition was doing a great job of weakening Balistria. And yet, the Grand Emperor still made speeches about how the Balistrian Army was unstoppable, unthinkable, and indestructible.

The truth: The Army faced a string of defeats in the last week. There’s talks of a coup to end the war, but no one dares take any action.

Bal’azzar sat in what could only be described as a makeshift war room. Around him were officers from different groups discussing strategy. Each one had a worse and worse plan on how to break through the Alkari Coalition lines. Desperation was setting in, and they could all feel it. After several minutes of discussions going nowhere, Bal’azzar had enough.

“We aren’t going to win this war, okay?” he blurted out bluntly, “The Coalition against us has too many troops, has a large pool of manpower, and they aren’t trying to fight a 4 front war. Our Navy has been caught, we can’t get back to the mainland, and we have started to be pushed back. We can delay the inevitable, but we cannot assume we can win this. For Xaethos’s sake, for all we know, we could have the MBE or Xaethos forbid Packilvania against us at any time. We need to surrender, and we need to get rid of the Xaethos awful ‘Grand Emperor’ we have at the helm of our country. We can’t survive for much longer.”

The officers were silent.

Deathly silent.

In the absence of any talking, Bal’azzar realized why they all went quiet. The Grand Emperor was probably behind him. He turned around to see…

No one.

Nothing.

He looked back at the officers who all now looked down at the table in front of them. It was the first time they all heard those words: defeat. All they had known was victory and glory, and now they were going to have to swallow their pride. One officer stood up and looked at Bal’azzar

“I never thought that we would have a traitor in our ranks. I mean, that must be the only way that…” the officer started.

“SILENCE!” Bal’azzar commanded, “This is absolutely absurdity! WE! HAVE! LOST! The war is over. I have spent nights finding a way to win. It doesn’t help that the Meagharians and the Alkari burned some of our own on crucifixes. Please tell me how you all think we will get out of this suicide mission.”

Silence drove over the officers once again.

The same officer started again, “Tell me, Bal’azzar, the courage of Balistria, the hero of the Army, the Legend himself, why have turned traitor? We are the greatest military on this continent. We will beat this coalition. Now is not the time to go lily-livered on us! We can win this blasted war! We are so close to Urgia-Nova! We just need that damned Princess and then we can have…”

“ENOUGH! Do not dare speak like that! This war is over. We have lost. We swore to protect our damn homeland, not destroy it in frivolous war. If you think you can lead this army…” Bal’azzar drew his ceremonial sword and stabbed the table, “Then you all can lead this army. I have accepted reality. There is no winning. May Xaethos save you now.”

Bal’azzar walked out of the makeshift war room and marched to the nearest truck. He jumped into the driver’s seat and drove away. His next stop: the nearest place to be taken as a Prisoner of War. At least it would be better than dying foolishly. Plus, maybe he can cut a sweat deal with all the knowledge that he knows.


Somewhere….Alksearia?
2:21pm

Driving for as long as Bal’azzar did was probably not the smartest idea. He knows nothing at all about the road structure of Alksearia or frankly where anything is. Which only made his situation worse.

Out of gas and out of anything that would help him, Bal’azzar started walking on his paws in the direction he thought was North. Maybe North? It mattered little to him.

He was free.

Free from the Army, free from the Emperor, free from the hideous laws, free from death.

Well, he would be once someone saves him….hopefully he runs into the Army and doesn’t get killed. At this point, prison in Alksearia is better than whatever forced servitude Balistria would offer him. He just…needs to survive for a couple days without food or water…

OOC: I have a couple finale posts planned, but while i am putting the final touches on them, I think it is time to formally end it here


Recap of penultimate post:

-Dorothea walks into Ouroborus with the Army
-The city is on fire in some sectors
-Dorothea and a squad enter the Palace of Viziers(the legislative center)
-Eldras VI’s body is found and recovered
-Dorothea leaves the city From the Ashes (ha ha, get it? I’m so clever)


Recap of final post:

-A few high ranking officials are found and they sign the papers officially ending the war on 23rd December 2020
-Grand Vizier Whit’chest is captured and sent to be tried before a Tribune similar to that of Nuremburg, members of the UCA are invited to join it
-Dorothea prepares for Eldras’s funeral
-Dorothea secretly visits Ouroborus and goes to the Council of Viziers room
-Vows to never let something like this happen again, orders for the building to be fully demolished
-She leaves from a smoldering city to start governing a new State and a new Era