Ruins of Giu, Xiopothos; 18:00 EPST
It tasted bitter.
Xiopothan Marine Corps Sergeant Henry Lodgington spat upon the ground, expelling a chunk of chewing tobacco from his mouth and looking up at the overcast sunset sky before returning his gaze to the horizon, focused on the barely visible shoreline. He certainly couldn’t see them from here, but he knew that in the miles beyond, they were out there. The Kandarinese blockade still made him itch. What had they ever done to deserve this, he thought. What had this nation ever done to earn ire of an interstellar power. Did the elves just hate them?
He shook his head, trying not to think about it too much. These days, irrational thought could be a dangerous thing with tensions slowly rising. Oh yes, Xiopothos had tenacity, but eventually the nation would start running out of food and water, along with vital supplies. But he could see it, when he walked the streets, when he aided the struggling and the suffering; he could see the frustration and weariness in the eyes of the people.
It had been a very, very long two years. He looked about at the rubble, recalling the events; had only been two years since the Krechies and the Vlads stormed this city, reducing buildings to horrid rubble and assaulting the populace? How he saw the dead, the wounded? The torture victims they rescued? The families displaced in the chaos? The children orphaned by it?
It was true; while Xiopothos was a land that endured, it was also a land scarred by war and death. Giu still mostly laid in ruin except for the inner districts; it was all Characoi could muster in light of the damnable blockade.
No matter how much he thought it out it didnt make sense. What on earth could the Kandarinese have possibly wanted of them?
Sarge! Came the call of another marine, bringing Lodgington back to reality. Any word on whats going on?
No, soldier. He replied with a resigned sigh, having done this many a day before. It wasnt a sigh of irritation, but of weariness; sadness. Get back to your patrol, private.
Yes, sir. The infantryman obeyed. Snapping a sharp salute and making his way back down a few streets to his directive.
There was a sudden gust as Henry stood there for a few more minutes, dust blowing in the wind.
Lodgington took one last look as what little daylight left in the sky began to fade, and evening turned to night before he turning to follow with weapon at the ready; in his hand for use it would likely never see.
Characoi, Xiopothos; 19:27 EPST
The Caucus Auratus
Of course, considering who Henry Lodgington was, he couldnt and wouldnt ever have an idea of what the Kandarinese would ever want and strangely, even after two years, neither did Geitz Freehold.
Approaching the age of 38, the Chief Administrators brow had come to almost constantly be knitted, his desk becoming more his home then his own residence. The events of that war still plagued him even now, troubling his mind. Had he done the right thing? Or had he put his own people at risk by acting out of such foolish desperation so rashly? But even more troubling were those things.
A file sat upon his desk, the tab reading Smallville Incident, 2005-2006. Freehold was reading it (yet again for the umpteenth time), hoping to divulge answers for this crisis hoping to figure out where it all went wrong. Photographs were spread across the desktop, horrors unbelievable described. But more alarming was the look of sadness and anger on Freeholds face; why was even he never told of this? Why wasnt he ever told of what those things could do specifically? He knew they could conquer cities in days, but this it was abominable. He stood, backing up from his chair and scratching at the red beard starting to grow on his visage (he had not shaved in at least four months; in fact, for the last two years, infrequent shaving had been a habit of his) before walking to stare out the window overlooking Characoi Bay (whatever of it that wasnt blotted out by the buildings anyhow), eyeing the dark horizon keenly.
It still puzzled him. Why- was Vire Khaz doing this, specifically? It was a puzzle that was deep, this he knew, and it bothered him. And why wouldnt it? The nation was helpless, trapped by a power who controlled the seas, the air and the very heavens above the world!
He had to find out but for now he returned to his pondering.
Geitz plopped back down in his chair, scooting forward and stroking his chin again
((OOC: I realize my post might possibly not wash with the facts (after all, it’s been 2 years); let me know if I am in error, and I will edit accordingly.))