Posted by: Alantic States Nov 9 2008, 05:21 AM
OOC: Hey Smurf, I'll lend you the money for those territories if you want.


IC:

The Royal Palace


"The revising is satisfactory for his majesty's wishes." said Udina, the Alantican emissary. He applied the Alantican seal next to the Grand Duke's name.


"The withdraw from West Dhaka shall commence shortly, I believe this will seal the peace of the region." said Udina. He got up from the table to take his leave.

From the entrance two messengers ran to Udina, they both whispered words into his ears. The shock on his face was only visible for a second. Smiling he said, "If you'll excuse me, I have some urgent matters to attend to."



Defiance, Alantican Chelmsford (In process of annexation to Hessia)

The marching columns of Hessian Cavalry corp. kicked a great cloud of dust as they moved to return to their native territory. The legionaries of the 6th Alantican Legion, however were on garrison duty in the new province.

Inside the central watchtower the guard looked across the plain to see figures approaching the town on horseback. The senior guard looked throgh a spy glass and spied the green and black of an Oscean Ranger troop.

The guard waved to them as they neared, they waved back. The troops slowed to a walk as they passed through the main gate and came to a halt on the main street.

Count Adamar, the Legion's commander, came out of the statehouse to greet the allied troopers.

"Greetings to you fellows. What brings you here?" asked the stout noble.

"Just here for provisions mi lord." answered the largest man. his hood was pulled back to show his white hair and bright, green eyes.

"Well I'm sure we can supply what you want with out a problem." replied the count, he turned to a staff officer and waved him over. "Major, be so kind as to give them all they need."

"Yes my lord."

As the officer sprinted away, Count Adamar made a gesture with his hand, "Fair thee well Oscean." he sang.

The Oscean drew a pistol from his saddle and discharged it into the nobles back. "I'll be just fine my lord." he said as the dead noble fell forward. The town grew quiet as no one moved. The garrison was frozen in shock, until more of the troopers pulled their pistols and fired into the unarmed soldiers. Their pistols empty the troopers dismounted and drew sabers.

The armory was packed in seconds with soldiers grabbing their rifle to fight back. From the south came a trumpet call, and on the horizon came the tide of green and black. The senior guard who had first spotted the Osceans could only pray as they came to the town. He stared and stared, then all at once his vision froze in place and became red.

-------------------------

Posted by: the Graz Nov 9 2008, 07:29 AM
OOC: Please use the buying land topic to pay for the land, smurf, as part of accepting the treaty.

---------------------------

Posted by: Osceea Nov 9 2008, 03:45 PM
OOC: does this mean that through the peace terms i get northern hessia? And when we continue this now, should we open a new topic or continue here? I wanted to see what u guys wanted to do.

--------------------------

Posted by: Alantic States Nov 9 2008, 04:35 PM
OOC: You mean Northern Chelmsford?

------------------------------------

Posted by: the Graz Nov 9 2008, 10:16 PM
QUOTE (Osceea @ Nov 9 2008, 03:45 PM)
OOC: does this mean that through the peace terms i get northern hessia? And when we continue this now, should we open a new topic or continue here? I wanted to see what u guys wanted to do.

Yes, and whichever. I think Alantic had an idea, and so did I ...

Whoever starts it can do as they please  

Let's not let this go, though  

--------------------------------------

Posted by: Divisional France Nov 10 2008, 12:03 AM
Lyndel Ocean
28° 28' N 119° 40' W

Julius Kline stood in his cabin of his ship Ferus Mare staring into the sunrise of a cold Friday morning. “How long has it been since they had left the main land?” he wondered, “It seems like we should be arriving any day.” He looks to the map on his bedside wall. A bell rings from above. Julius scrambles up the stairs, pauses to make sure he looks authoritative, and exits onto the deck.
“LAND HO!” one of the deck mates cries.
“Excellent!” shouts Julius.
“Lord Kline, we should be able to dock within the hour.” says Captain Ross O’Donnell.
“Thank you Captain. Today marks a new day for the Darsthen Republic!”

-------------
Hours later:

Divisional France
30° 28' N 102° 55' W

As he watched the rows of soldiers clad in Darsthen black and blue, he couldn’t help but have pride well up inside him. Julius had worked hard for this day; a day where they could expand their kingdom. Divisional France will expand its lands by force or by negotiation. The carpenters and stone masons have already begun construction on the Fort AurumAqua. Designed for two and a half years, this structure is rumored to be the most remarkable structure in Darsthen land.
An officer approaches,
“My liege, the scouts have returned with interesting news. They are reporting neighbors up to the north. Approximately 5 miles.”
“…This is good news Sgt. Cloi. Tell the scouts to return and set up a picket line right there” He points to a voluminous rock formation at the edge of a tree line.
“Right away your lordship.”

Talking to himself, “Yes, this may be an interesting beginning to this expansion. Very interesting indeed.”

---------------------------------------

Posted by: Divisional France Nov 10 2008, 02:53 AM
Divisional France
Lord’s Tent

A messenger arrives:
“My lord, we have gained two more peaces of land: Darsthen and Bellum Deorum, the latin for “War of the gods”.
“Excellent. What news of the rest of the fleet arriving?”
“The last boat of supplies and soldiers arrived this afternoon sire.”
“We are truly ready to pursue the orders of King Icarius.
“Long live Icarius the Great.” Mumbles everyone within earshot.

“We start planning tomorrow. Inform my advisors.”
“As you wish”

------------------------------------------------

Posted by: Alantic States Nov 11 2008, 01:55 AM
Since this war is over myself and Osceea will be making a new war topic that will pick up with the Rogue Oscean General invading Alantica. The topic will be started either tomorrow afternoon or the next day.

-----------------------------------------------

Posted by: Divisional France Nov 11 2008, 02:10 AM
Curses. I literally just finished a new war topic.
Mains, would you like to discuss the combination of these two stories?

~DF

----------------------------------------------

Posted by: Welsh Pirates Nov 11 2008, 03:12 AM
OOC: Who says the war is over?

Message to:
Logan von Mains, Grand Duke of Alantica
Gusky II, High Lord of Osceea
Arcurus Mengsk, King of Mengsk

We see know reason to sign this treaty. None of the clauses benefit us. We demand a clause added preventing the Alantic States, Smurfosity, and Osceea from expanding into the independent fiefs of 66, 65, and 64 or any other territory south of the border. The war still stands, but a temporary ceasefire has been declared.

~Archduke Simon de Gaul

--------------------------------------

Posted by: Divisional France Nov 11 2008, 03:32 AM
OOC: In that case...

IC:
Divisional France
Darsthen Headquarters: Kings Room


QUOTE
Sir Alaskan Skookum,
My name is Julius Kline, King of  the Darsthen Republic. I have come to seek land for our King Icarius. As you are our neighbors to the north, you have two options:
1. Join our alliance: ICARIUS. You will not be conquered and you may trade peacefully and as often as you like. Your citizens will be protected by a contingent of 300 men.
2. Fight to the death. I hope you do not choose this option, for you will be surely destroyed.

Please choose wisely. Either fight beside us, or become incapable to fight at all. You have 3 days to respond. We will be watching.

Sub Periculum,
Lord Julius Elliot Kline
King of the Darsthen Repuplic


“Thank you for waiting Martin. You may now lead your company to Alaskan Skookum. Treat them with care.”
“As you wish your liege.”

He turns back to his oak desk and begins writing a second letter…


QUOTE
King Icarius,
We have started to transition into our assignment. The troops are placed and we have gained 3 territories. As you wished, we will not conquer more than our mandate has allowed seeing that we don’t have enough resources to do so. I expect the next 3 boats to arrive within the month. We have begun negotiations with our neighboring countries. All goes well.

Suberabunt,
Lord Julius Elliot Kline
King of the Darsthen Repuplic


“Cedric! Please send this back with the next homebound ship.”
“Right away sir!”

The messenger leaves.

“General Darius.”
“Your grace?” as Darius walks up.
“How goes the scouting of the rest of the land?”
“Besides our neighbors to the north, there is nothing to report of. Our scouts have not penetrated as far as I had hoped, but we are making progress. Unfortunately, there is a Malaria outbreak in “Unclaimed Land Quadrant IV”. We are getting healers to travel with our scouts and cartographers.”

“Excellent. I’d like to see a report in my tent when a new nation is found.”
“Upon my word, it will be there.”
“I wouldn’t have expected anything less from you.”
“You’re very kind sire.”
“You may be dismissed.”

The general leaves. Julius is seen stroking his reddened beard.

----------------------------------------------

Posted by: Osceea Nov 13 2008, 01:24 AM
Castle Osetnxy, Uriyadh
Royal Private Meeting Chambers


"He's done what!?" Exclaimed General Creeful to one of his messengers.

He was standing in a long, but thin room, decorated on both walls with the Royal Banner of Osceea. In the center of the room was a long table that appeared made of Oak, but was actually a special tree just as hard that is grown in the Osceean Isles. The walls appeared normal, but were actually several feet thick, and padded with sound absorbing materials. The door was just as soundproof.

Creeful's messenger bowed slightly and replied. "Yes sir, ours and alantic scouts confirmed it just moments ago. He has taken his full army, nearly 30,000 and marched them on a war path into Hessia."

As Creeful turned he could see the worried, but appaled looks on the other two Generals in the room. It was absolutely unthinkable for an Osceean to betray his lord. And yet this is exactly what General Gorbit had done.

"Do the Alantican understand the treachery? Both to them and us?" Creeful asked quickly.

"Yes sir, Alantic has sent word they will aide us in whatever way possible to put this uprising."

"Do we have any reports on the damage to Hessia?"

"Not yet sir. I believe they have killed anyone who they have run
across."

"Bring me word when we do. Until then your presence is no longer required."

Creeful turned now to the other Generals. Nodding toward the table as he began to speak.

"Ostri, what do you think we can do? He obviously commands great respect from his army if could get all 30,000 to defect."

Ostri was old, severely wrinkled, but wore an expression that showed he had great wisedom, and and even greater experience with military matters. He stood thinking for several moments before replying with a raspy voice.

"I dont believe they are all fully traitors Creeful." He looked across the maps. "Gorbit may command respect, but he cannot have broken them all. Many may be following orders. After all, killing is found enjoyable by far too many of our people for them to contradict him."

"What do you propose we do?"

Ostri pointed towards a small black mark on the map. A black dagger was drawn to one side, and a skull to the other.

The camp of The Elite Stalker division. Otherwise known as the Black Stalkers.

"Assasinate Gorbit?" Creeful asked almost smiling towards Ostri.

"Absolutely..." But this came not from Ostri. As Creeful turned around his eyes widened before he bowed.

"My lord, i did not know you were back from the King's palace."

High Lord Gusky stood just in front of the door, his royal black and green silk uniform hanging gracefully to the floor. For the life of him, Creeful could not figure out how he had entered the room unheard and unnoticed.

"We will assinate Gorbit. And i will lead the Black Stalkers." Gusky said with a broad smile.

----------------------------

Posted by: Alantic States Nov 13 2008, 03:05 AM
Pendragon, Alantican Capital, North Alantica


City Docks


The bottle of champagne burst against the hull of the newly commissioned dreadnought of the Alantican Navy. The ANS "Endurable", the lead ship of the Endurable-class of dreadnoughts slid down the dry dock platform and came to a stop in the harbor waters. The ships steel hull was bright white in birth colors, her decks clean, and her turrets polished. The new ship was housing a revolutionary design in ship gunnery. The 12" guns were housed in six duel turrets. A much needed improvement over the the 10" guns in four duel turrets.

Watching the ship spew black smoke into the air, the Grand Duke watched from the balcony of Castle Pendragon, the new ship brought the total number of Alantican battleships to thirteen. The Endurable was to become the flagship of the Grand Fleet, the main navel force of the kingdom.

"We will require much of the navy to confront the Welsh." told the duke to the old admiral standing next to him.

Admiral Joshua Counts stiffened. "We have the hearts and prayers of the country to lift us up my lord. Victory is but a battle away."

"Prepare to sail admiral, give us the victory." ordered the duke, still gazing out to the Western sea. The black smoke on the horizon gave sign of the other capital ships of the Grand Fleet as they cruised into a parade like formation.


------------------------------

Posted by: Divisional France Nov 13 2008, 11:10 PM
Divisional France, Divisional France
Republic of Darsthen Headquarters

Kline walked into the room. A mid-summers day brought the heat circulating in the whole complex. He dropped the report on his desk and sat into his chair. He noticed that There was a new report on his desk, a lengthy one at that. He began to read:


QUOTE ( Marcus Itilies: Report 1)
Lord Julius,
Today our scouts have found what looks like remains of conflict to the northwest. Men wearing Red, Black, Green, and other unidentified groupings were littering the ground. The towns are scorched. At the town hall, there was a note stating “Death to all who opposes” – Gen Gorbit. As of now, I have called upon Desrin, my second-in-command, to bring 1,500 men in case something should occur.
Nothing has been received from the “Skookum” Project. Their time ends tomorrow.
If I may advise you, it would be in your best interest to contact Lord Gusky, Logan von Mains and Arcturus Mengsk. The scouts have ventured as far into their territory as they could, they approve of extending an alliance with them. They are all fierce fighters.  

Your Right Hand,
Marcus Ray Itilies
Commander of Darsthen’s Finest


Julius immediately began writing a letter of notice to Logan von Mains:


QUOTE
Sir Logan von Mains,
It has come to my attention that you may need some aid in the current situation you are facing. We, the Darsthen Republic offer our swords so that we may seek a common goal. If you need any assistance, please let us know at your nearest convenience. Sent with this message is a regiment of 1,000 trained fighting men. They will fight under Cpt. Mark Derlin, but he will take orders directly from you, or other appointed officers. If we are needed, return a letter including allies of ours.

Tuus Amicus,
Lord Julius Elliot Kline
King of the Darsthen Republic


“We shall wait for his response.” Julius muttered to himself
“Cpt. Derlin. Gather your subordinates and prepare to leave directly”
“Yes sir.”

He departed.

------------------------------------------

Posted by: Martang Nov 14 2008, 02:38 AM
QUOTE (the Graz @ Nov 2 2008, 01:16 PM)
He turned to his chancellor. "Send word to the Grand Duke of Martang. Let him know that we mean him no harm and would ask that he join us in abstaining from the conflict, and instead attempting to enforce the King's peace. This has to end, now, or the Kingdom will be torn apart."

Brenchwell Hall, on the outskirts of the capital city, Johannesburg...

Grand Duke Brench of Martang chuckled at the messenger. "The Duke expects me to believe that he means me no harm? He's buying out the petty lords and vassals all around us, expanding the influence of the Graz far beyond its original boundaries, very nearly surrounding my ancestral lands. Thankfully, I'm just about to procure the final regions once possessed by my grandfather, and restore us to the height of Martangese influence in the northern kingdom."

"He was serious, your grace, the Duke of the Graz wants to remain peaceful with you. His concern is with maintaining a balance of power in which the Alantic Mains don't topple their neighbors. A peacefully united north will provide a great stability for the rest of the Kingdom."

"Very well. Tell the Duke that he has his peace. I am certain he understands the old territory of Amherst is mine by ancestral right, and that he will not meddle in their feudal loyalty. Their vassalage is mine to command. And mine to protect."

"Of course, your grace." the messenger bowed and left.

....

Hamilton, Martang

General Priante of the Martangese army stood on the shore, admiring the two man-o-wars sitting a quarter of a mile off-shore. They were formidable ships, though certainly outnumbered if ever they were sent into a real war. They served their purpose well, however, in keeping the Martangese coast safe from most enemy pirates.

The General turned his attention back inland. Hardly three miles to the northwest sat the nearest of the Grazian "Free Cities." Priante had always dreamt of conquering that string of city-states for the glory of the Grand Duchy of Martang, but now the Duke of the Graz had snatched them away with hardly a whisper. The coffers of that Duke must run deep. Then again, so did Brench's coffers, but he'd turned his attention to the rural inland territories belonging to his late grandfather. Hardly a strategic move, Priante observed. In fact, purely sentimental. Nevertheless, the young General had received orders recently to send some troops west. Apparently Amherst was about to swear fealty to the Grand Duchy, too. Good for them.

Another messenger arrived with new orders. "This is more like it," Priante mused, as he read them:
QUOTE
General Priante,
the Duke of the Graz desire peace in the north.  Peace is precisely what I intend to give him.  But on my terms.  Send an obvious battalion of knights and one of those nifty modern cannons to the castle in Amherst, such that our Grazian neighbors will know who's in charge of Amherst Castle.

Meanwhile, begin moving knights and horses in secret to the villages and towns in the south of Martang.  Should trouble ever arise with the Duke of the Graz, I want him to know that I am not to be taken lightly.  Some minor defenses and barracks will be built for you there in the coming weeks.


------------------------

Posted by: Osceea Nov 14 2008, 02:49 AM
Roeville, Hessia


Smoke was rising slowly from every building in the village. Windows were shattered. Blood was strewn across the ground. Screams could be heard crying from the interiors of some homes. The entire scene was bathed in a deep red glow from the many fires. The sky was blotted out by a grey haze.

Gorbit walked calmly through the streets. Building would occasionally collapse next to him, but he would sidestep any debris gracefully and continue on his way. 10 soldiers walked behind him, his traitor officers.

A dying man, missing his right leg crawled to his feet desperately begging for them to stop. Gorbit wrinkled his nose with a scowl on his face. Without a moments hesitation he plunged his sword into the man's head. Blood spilled out onto the gravel.

He turned to the man closest ot his right.

"Dreth, have the men move further north, the next village may be more fun. I found this one far too easy."

"Yes sir, ill have it done." He gestured to one of his servants trailing him, he scribbled a not, and ran off behind them.

"I know what you mean sir, not muchr esistance here. Only about 15 of our own died. Of course this is a simple farming village."

"Yes your right Dreth. Be sure to send warning to the next town," He smiled, "that should make it more interesting."

Dreth smiled as well. "Absolutely my lord."

They walked around the burning village. Signaling for some still struggling Alanticans to be brought into the town square. They were quickly executed to Gorbit's extreme pleasure.

The sun was setting now, casting an orange glow across the already red tinge in the air. Gorbit signlaled his officers to leave him and began his slow deliberate walk to his tent. He rounded a corner and stopped dead in his tracks. Suddenly his heart was pounding, he felt an odd feeling in his stomach and wondered to himself if this was what others called "fear".

Crouched in front of his tent was a man, a dagger in each hand, wearing nothing but refined black leather armor and hanging banner on his right shoulder.On the banner was a small green sigil that actually appeared to move.. His face was turned toward the ground in a silent stare, though most of his face was obscured by the now deepening darkness.

Gorbit took a cautious step foward reaching for his sword. He stopped when the man spoke.

"Wouldnt try reaching for that..." His voice was dark and ominous. Gorbit actually felt a shiver run down his spine. He quickly clasped his fingers around his swords hilt, but before he could draw it the man spun in a blur.

Gorbit's sword stuck, he began tugging at it in a growing desperation with each pull, but it remained stuck. He finnaly looked away from the man and down at his blade, a small knife was jutting out of the sheath, it had penetrated clean through the sword itself and out the other side.

Hanging from it was a note.

The man spoke again. "Read it... Follow the instructions... Come alone." The man stood, he now seemed relaxed. Gorbit glanced back down at the sword again, but only for seconds. When he looked up, the man was gone.

He slowly pulled the note from the knife, opening it with his fingers. He was feeling like himself again, he even felt a smile begin to cross his face. Whoever the man was he would pay for disturbing him, he would pay with his life.

He read the note.

This man would pay dearly, whoever he was...

--------------------------


Posted by: Alantic States Nov 15 2008, 01:32 AM
Pendragon, North Alantica

The War Room

The noise level was pretty heavy in the circular room, staff officers shouted to one another pushing blocks around the main map that covered the large oval shaped table. On the walls other maps, just as large, but covering a smaller area lined the stone walls. On them pins were adjusted by aides on ladders.

seated around the large table map sat the Grand duke, Grand Marshal Bismark, the Chief of the General Staff; Field Marshal Conrad, an older commander who was chief of the Army; and Field Marshal Solovet, the only women present, she commanded the Royal Alantican Legion.

"The Rogue force is pushing further into Hessia, and it nears the provisional capital of Hessia. We have gotten reports that several of the Heassian divisions are deserting and joining Gorbit's rebels. If we don't stop them now, we face similar problems in Mann, Rolin and Mainz and if we have to fight a rebellion with the Welsh attacking us, we have a serious problem." said Solovet, eying the other leaders.

"We must be cautious, the 6th Legion was wiped out in a single battle with the rebel forces, they are deadly, and know our tactics well." spoke Conrad, he glanced at the four red blocks that represented the rebels, behind it came a block of green to represent the Oscean loyalist force that followed behind them.

Conrad continued, "I think the 9th Legion with the 8th in support should move to block and attack the rebel flank. The loyalist faction from Osceea can cut the retreat."

"Hessia is a dangerous place for our men right now, the local population is in a state of open rebellion against the crown. We would be observed where ever we went. No attack would be secret." said Bismark in a low tone. "Pulling two legions from their current positions would open a large gap in the Alexandria shoreline, if we weaken that line, the Graz could send ships into our ports. We must be careful and plan ahead."

Solovet jumped out her chair in anger, "You are one to talk Marcus!" she yelled, addressing Bismark. "You talk of planning ahead and yet you have no plan to stop a rebellion in one of the colonial areas. Despite that those are one of our biggest threats."

"Minerva, please don't start. The uprising in Area 3 is a problem, but we will put it down. But its true that while we don't have a pre-written plan to mobilize with the current situation, we must act now to make one that will be of use to us." said Bismark. He turned to the Duke, who was silent still, "My lord, have you anything to input?"

The old ruler leaned forward and stood up. He grasped a sweeper and pushed the Royal legion to meet the rebel army.

"Solovet will move to block the advance of the rebels in Hessia, the main objective will be to block the road to Pendragon. I will go as well and take personal command of the Army in Hessia. Declare a state of emergency in Hessia and downgrade it to a military state. We will punish those who rise in rebellion here as well as in Osceea."

The duke gripped his sword, encrusted with red jewels and with a golden hilt. He moved to the doors with Solovet who sent messanger to have the Royal Legion assembled for action.





On the Western Sea, off South Alantican coast

The five sloops of the 3rd Screening Force, glided through the clam seas. The sailors watched with great care to spot Welsh ships, or any ship for that matter. Grand fleet was at anchor now, but was to depart on a training maneuver any day now. Admiral Counts had made it clear, he didn't want a surprise to fall on the Grand Fleet. the War had put great strain on the navy, which had been a third of its current size when war broke out with Dhaka, but at high commands insistence, the navy had been modernized with new ships and beefed up to protect the coast line. With the Welsh to the south and the Graz on the northern side of the Gulf of Moz, the kingdom was surrounded around the sea by enemies.

The lookout gave a shout and pointed to the horizon to port. Two small ships could been seen making their way away from the Alantican sloops.

"Merchant vessels sir, on their way to the Graz most likely. And they fly the green of the Welsh sir."

The sloops began to turn and picked up speed, heading to seize the Welsh merchant ships.

---------------------------


Posted by: Osceea Nov 18 2008, 03:05 AM
Outskirts of Lindbranch, Hessia
Two days later...


The sun cast a golden glow on the stretching field of grass. In perfect formation stood 28,000 Osceeans, each wearing the black and green armor of their glorious military. Each bearing the royal insignia of the House of Gusky. Long streaming banners flapped in the wind. The field almost glowed as the sunlight glinted off 28,000 polished weapons. Each of them ready to die. Each of them led by a traitor...

Gorbit was smiling.

He stood at the far back of his army atop a small hill overlooking the expanse of field. His men stood stone faced and ready to attack at any moment. The town of Lindbranch stood proudly across the plane. Atop its tall wooden walls and towers stood 10,000 eager Alanticans, every one wishing to revenge the massacres across Hessia.

A man strode to Gorbit's side, he was wearing a flowing cape and brandished an officers sword at his hip. He stopped, bowed gracefully, and with his head still down began to speak.

"My lord, our men are ready. They await your order."

Gorbit turned to the man, still smiling. "Very good Himna. I see they got our warning message."

The men atop the walls were no longer simple Hessian militia, they were Alantican trained military, obviously sent from the Hessian provisional capitol to halt his progress. But he would let them no glory here, he would kill to the last man.

"This battle should prove interesting Himna. Tell the horn bearer it is time." his smiled had disappeared briefly but quickly returned broader than before. "Now, Himna, they all die."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A thunderous horn boomed across the field to reach the men atop the walls of Lindbranch. They were staring down at 28,000 Osceeans, and not just regular Osceeans, but traitors led by a manaical leader who committed atrocities across all of Hessia.

The sound of the horn would normally have broken their spirits, but today nothing could tear the lust for revenge from their minds.

The Osceean formations slowly began to march toward the walls. As if on cue, the sky darkened and it began to rain.

Cannon shots came from the opposite end of the field. Huge plumes of smoke launched into the air. Seconds later explosions rocked the walls. Men were running, nobody knew the traitors had artillery.

Another cannon volley and each shell found its mark on support beams. Wooden splinters were flying through the air, mingled with smoke and blood. With another boom, the western walls collapsed like twigs on the ground in a heap of broken bodies and bloody men.

The Osceeans were approaching faster now, almsot jogging, but their heads did not bob like someone running, they remained a level, unwavering mass as they came closer.

A bugel blared and the gates swung open, Alantican men rushed onto the field in front of the remaining walls. Others had done the same around the rubble on the western side.

As the Osceean formation stopped, they were met with a volly of rifle fire. The entire first row fell to the ground. They command shouts and they lowered into 3 lines of rifles aimed at the mass of Alantican troops.

They fired.

Hundreds fell, and before their bodies hit the ground, the Osceens were charging, bayonets and swords at the ready.The Alanticans turned to meet them.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The battle was now raging across the broken remnant of the towns walls. Gorbit was enjoying every minute of it. As the fighting continued he found himself thinking of something very unusual. He found himself thinking of the man who had stopped him at his tent. He remembered the note.

It was very oddly neatly written.

QUOTE
Gorbit

Their are forces watching you and you have dispeleased them. You have broken both the official and unspoken laws of Osceea, and of course this means you must die.

There is only once chance of your survival, and for that you must meet us in the broken place in one day.

Expect us shortly if you are foolish enough not to come.

At the end of the note, smeared in blood was a symbol that Gorbit did not understand. Yet somehow, it felt very familiar to him.

Of course he hadnt gone, he knew the penalties for what he had done, and he was having far too much fun to die. And if "they" dared to appear he would simply have them killed, perhaps even do it himself. He had to admit however, that the blood was a nice touch.

A voice jolted him out of his thoughts. It was one of his officers.

"Sir, they are pushing back along the intact walls in the east. In the west our men are at a stand still, they are fighting ferociously."

Gorbit was having the most fun of his life.

"Send in all the rear forces all along the line. Put them down."

"Absolutely sir!"

The man bowed before launching himself onto a horse and riding through the deepening mud toward the rear of the Osceean formations where 15,000 men were still standing ready.

As the man disappeared through the mist of the rain Gorbit noticed something amiss. The cannons were no longer firing. A series of thuds around him mixewd with the slaps of mud came from around him, but he didnt notice throguh his anger.

He turned toward one of his other officers.

"Why arent the cannons firing! What is the meaning of th-" He stopped abruptly.

Laying in the mud around him where 20 bodies, cold blank expressions on their faces. Their eyes staring into the dark clouds above. His officers and personal guard. He could no longer see the town of Lindbranch through the rain.

He wheeled around frantically to take in the scene around him.

Crouched in a circle surrounding him and the bodies where ten men in hardened black leather armor. Daggers still dripping with the blood of his men...

-----------------------

Posted by: Alantic States Nov 19 2008, 10:00 PM
CODE
Message sent via steamer on Western Sea



QUOTE

To:Lord Julius Elliot Kline
King of the Darsthen Republic
From: Grand Marshal. Marcus Bismark
HIGHCOM, Alantican General Staff
Encryption Code: Orange
Security Clearance: Beta


To his highness,

We have received your message and are most pleased with it.  We invite your Cpt. Mark Derlin, commander of the Darthen Expeditionary force, to join us in Pendragon.  We will appoint him to the Supreme Allied War Council as a representative for your nation.  At this point in time the primary force against us is the Archduke Simon, of Welsh.  You should mobilize along your northern border to protect yourself.  Of course we will send any aid we can to assist you if required.

Attached is a list of allies within UNOK:

The Grand Duchy of Alantica
Kingdom of Mengsk
The Clans of Osceea
The Darsthen Republic


Most Sincerely,
Marcus Bismark,
Grand Marshal,  General in Chief of the Alantican Military


--------------------------

Posted by: Divisional France Nov 20 2008, 02:10 AM
OOC: Thanks. sorry for the communication error.

IC:
Divisional France, Divisional France
Republic of Darsthen Headquarters

When Julius opened the door, he was greeted with a single red letter in the message bin. He read for it again and then re-read it.

“Darius!”
“Yes my liege?”
“Prepare the troops! Tomorrow night we go to war!”
“At once!”

The Castle was milling with activity. Servants and soldiers were everywhere preparing for the March to Welsh Pirates. In the war room, advisors and generals sat around a large map planning and discussing possible routes. A horn sounded in the distance. It rang a second time. And then a third. The room was silent. The captains gave each other quizzical looks. Suddenly, a messenger burst through the doors announcing,

“There are riders from the north sir! They bear our colors!”

The room suddenly sprang into commotion and eventually everyone was at the front gate.
Approximately 100 riders galloped toward them shouting something inaudible over the pounding of hooves and the lowering of the drawbridge. As they grew closer someone yelled:
“They hav blood on ‘em!”

Indeed. Some of the men were coated with blood.
King Julius wondered if these were his scouts. He grew more anxious by the second.

Finally the riders were close enough to dismount. King Julius raised his voice among the crowd.

“Lt. Gerin! Where is Martin? What has befallen you! “
“Martin has fallen in battle sire. Alaskan Skookum rose against us 3 days ago and we have been fighting since. We have lost many comrades in the firing. Luckily our hidden night guard noticed the commotion outside of our camp. He was too late to warn the main guards and perimeter patrols but he helped us recover enough to give us a chance to flee before we were slaughtered.”

“Where is this man?”

“The man? I uh… (scanning the riders). He’s right there sire!”

The man he pointed out was relatively tall and thin. He had a longbow at his side and he was drinking some water from his canteen.

“You there!” proclaimed King Julius
“Yes sire?”
“Please meet with me in my office to discuss current events after you are presentable.”
“As you wish sire.”

It was about dusk now and the excitement was waning, when finally a knock peppered Julius’ door.

“Come in.”

The man entered
“Please sit. (He motioned to the chair opposite his desk). Good sir. What is your name?”
“Daniel Tredder sire.”
“From what clan are you? Gheki?”
“No sire. Hiltop.”
“Ah Hiltop. I should’ve known. The clan is renowned for their keen eyesight.”
“Yes your majesty.”
“Well Daniel. I have a promotion for you. With thanking you for saving many lives, I’d like to promote you to the captain of those 100 riders plus an additional 200 fresh cavaliers.”
“That’d be wonderful sir!”
“Excellent. But before you go back to your tents, when do you think you will be able to lead your men to battle?”
“In two days sire. I need some rest.”
“Get your rest. You, Capt. Gelski, and Major Iganis will march to Alaskan Skookum to annihilate them. I have instructed Iganis what he needs to prepare. You will not lose.”
“Yes sir!”

Daniel left the room. Julius was smiling. War was his favorite sport.


-------------


Posted by: Osceea Nov 25 2008, 12:24 AM
Outskirts of Lindbranch, Hessia


The rain was now falling gently, but for some reason a haze still covered the field, blocking Gorbit's line of sight onto the field. And, he thought, the sight of anyone looking for him. He was all alone now. Bodies littered the ground around him, blood oozing into the dirt. The men in the circle around him stood motionless, each of their faces glaring unnervingly at the muddy ground in a silent stare.

Then abruptly, they all stood.

They made a series of movements with their blades, then as they turned their arms, their daggers suddenly disappeared. They snapped into a stance of attention, their arms tightly against their sides. Each of their faces was still glaring blankly at the ground under their black hoods.

Gorbit could feel himself visibly shaking. He hoped they would assume it was the rain, but then again none of them were actually looking at him. Nevertheless, he built up the most confident smile he could muster and plastered it on his face. His left hand was absentmindedly fingering the hilt of his sword.

He was actually working out the odds of fighting them to the death when an ear shattering whistle broke his concentration. He truned in the direction it had come from and two men in the circle silently stepped aside as another man strode into the clearing. Gorbit immediately recognised him as the man who had been at his tent 2 days before, the only difference was the symbol woven onto his chest in a brilliant green. The same symbol from the note.

Gorbit took an unconcious step back as the man strode forward until he was only feet away. The two men who had stepped aside now reformed the circle.

Thunder clapped in the distance, the rain picked up slightly.

"Wh-who are you?" Gorbit almost stuttered uncontrollably.

The man raised his head to look into Gorbit's eyes. His face was covered with a black mask.

"I am he who watches. He who has seen what you have done."

"Why are you here? Why did you kill my men!?" He could feel himself getting angrier. His left hand was tight around his sword's hilt now.

"Do you not recognise us Gorbit? Surely someone of your previous stature in Osceea must know..."

Gorbit had no idea. Yet, somehow, in a distant way, the symbol on the man's chest felt familiar. Gorbit figured that if he could stall for time, perhaps one of his messengers would find him here. He spoke again.

"What do you want with me? What i do is none of your concern."

The man turned his back and began to pace as he spoke.

"With you. Oh we want much with you. You see Gorbit, it is the highest atrocity to betray Osceea. Yet, you did it and with others at your side." He turned to face Gorbit again. "So then dear old Gorbit, why is it you didnt come where the note instructed? Why disobey again?"

Gorbit was puzzled. Disobey again? What did he mean by that. He sized up his chances, perhaps if he killed this man when he turned his back again the others would flee, or more likely attack him. He figured he could take maybe one or two, but not the whole party. He stall longer.

"I didnt come because it didnt make any sense. The whole message was so cryptic. So odd. Who do you think you people are! I will have you all killed if you dont let me-" but he was silenced.

The man was no longer in front of him, but standing behind him. One hand fimly grasping his left on the hilt of his own blade. The other holding a long green dagger at his throat.

Gorbit breathed slowly, keeping his neck as far from the knife as possible. The man whispered in his ear.

"We, Gorbit, are the Black Stalkers. And we must do justice." He glided away from him at the last word.

It hit Gorbit like a train. The Black Stalkers, the symbol, it all came togeather. They were the King's elite stalker unit. Assasins, scouts, whatever was necessary. And they for sure could kill him without any trouble at all. Gorbit felt himself fall to his knees, vaguely aware of a curious warm sensation from behind his knees.

The rain stopped. The sky was still overcast with clouds, but the haze was beginning to fade.

The man strode once again in front of him. His dagger was no logner in his hand.

"Gorbit. You are guilty of High Treason, as well as the countless murder of hundreds, if not thousands of innocent Alantican civilians across Hessia. I am here to pass your judgement."

Gorbit was no longer shaking. He was beginning to feel a little lighter if anything. As if all his cares were being lifted away. But then a thought hit him.

"Who are you?" he croaked at the man.

The man threw back his hood and the mask fell from his face. High Lord Gusky himself had led them. He knew at that moment his fate was sealed.

"Gorbit, because of your acts, you must now die..."

A horn bellowed in the distance, Gorbit could see past the man that a swarm of Alantic troops had appeared on the hills on either side of the town. A massive wave of cavalry descended on his men. He could tell by the flags that they were led by Mains' old general Solovet.

Without warning, two men in the circle zipped toward him, pulling out their daggers and plunging them into his chest. Another blow hit him from behind but much smaller, like a thrown knife.

Then they were all gone. Not so much as footprit left by them in the mud. He was swaying on the ground his vision blurring as blood crept into his eyes.

His last sight before he fell into darkness was a wave of Alantican cavalry slaughtering the reamainder of his men.

Gorbit fell dead in the mud, silent beside the bodies of his traitor officers.


The sun appeared from behind the clouds.