CrisisSolutions

The Fading Light of V'landriel (Closed for Soft Reboot)

March 2, 1901
With that the generals left the chamber, confident as most Imperials are. The king then left his chair, almost ignoring the subjects trying to protest his new orders. He moved towards his son, who was still waiting in the wings, who just had to witness his father played the victim yet again. A look of understanding meet his sons eyes. The king took his son by the shoulders and led him down the hall,"I know what you must think, seeing the father you admired being brought so low by these foriegners, I wish I could say that it was the betterment of our people, but you know just as well as I that it would be a lie." The conversation led the pair into a room Gawel was not entirely familiar with, one filled with suits of armor, lances and muskets of old. "The truth is that these Imperials would endanger all that we held dear if we went against their 'benevolent guidance'. I know you are more than familiar with the old stories of our bravery and gallantry on the field of battle. When the Cavalry of Heaven was feared against all those who would be our enemies. We stood out as a nation by our bravery, by standing out against all equals."
Kajetan Klos then reached out to a gilded helmet standing on a podium, and in a silently ceremonious way, put on the helmet. "And that is what I hope to become in this war. It is what I know you will be one day as well, it's in our blood, your spirit, a nation. So this is what I will leave you with, so that you will not forget what you have." Gawel looked down and saw a necklace of the golden Drzewan eagle, a sight that he kept his eyes on as his father walked out of the room, mounted his horse with his generals, and rode to the train station with the rest of his men. The look on all of the soldiers as he rode by were those that Kajetan would be familiar with for all of the coming days, uncertainty.

The Fading Light of V'landriel (Closed for Soft Reboot)

March 2, 1901.
Gawel made it back from his excursion to the cathedral with almost no fanfare, which is just how he liked it. Both of the guards took off their disguises and returned back to their barracks. This close to the morning, it would be ludicrously easy to avoid the guards on their patrol routes, after all they were the ones who made them. For Gawel, returning to his bedchamber was just as easy as walking down the halls, not even the foreign Imperium guards would question their charge roaming around to get an early morning breakfast. Then it was just a matter of trying to get as much sleep as he could. Ironically, this would be the only decent night's sleep he would get in quite a while.

Gawel usually woke up to the sound of his father's aviary performing their morning choir practice, but today the morning was accented with the sounds of condescending officers barking orders at the lesser soldiers, rifles being loaded and examined, and horses protesting with their handlers and contemplating their new fate. It was a cacophony that Gawel was entirely unfamiliar with, but knew that I will mean nothing good. Even getting out of his room was difficult as the halls were overtaken by frantic servants and guards making room for the armed Drzewan soldiers and Imperial officers, with the path to his father being a river of paranoia, smugness and bravado. Gawel soon surfaced back in the throne room, where his father held court, a court that now held more people than he thought possible. The few faces he did recognize were the common visitors to the king and occasional friends, the trade minister from Lieria, all the mayors from the cities and the richest factory heads. But he ones who holding the king's attention at the moment were the Imperial officers barking at his father.
"As a dominion of the Sovereignty, you have an obligation to serve our new Emperor Olarth. As such you are expected to lend your country's army to our aid, that goes the same for all the factories in the country, any nonmilitary factories will be managed by our own supervisors and the current supervisors will be asked to step down and face investigation of their loyalty to ensure a strong supply line in our efforts."
This claim nearly made the other subjects erupt into a riot, but the king remained as stoic as ever.
"We will support the Sovereignty, as we always have." The king proclaimed, with the only signal of acceptance from the officers being a nod the head and a smirk of the face that screamed "we expect nothing less."
"At last we come to an understanding, your orders will be that your men will report to Fort Doromirian to be outfitted, reorganized, mustered and deployed. We expect the first trains tomorrow at 700. Do not be late."
"I would never dream of it, sirs"

The Fading Light of V'landriel (Closed for Soft Reboot)

So guys, I know I haven't written and may be thrown out of the loop a bit, let me give ya'll a gesture of good faith by giving a link to some art you can use or inspire other stories.
North America
Rest of Europe and Asia

The Fading Light of V'landriel (Closed for Soft Reboot)

(Here goes my hat into the ring. I know its not as detailed as the others, since I only heard about this yesterday night, so I might make some more changes to it down the line, especially as I'm still new to this site. But I hope you all enjoy nonetheless.)


Name: Dominion of Drzewa
Type of Government: Monarchy
Head of Government: King Kajetan Klos, Second to the Throne: Prince Gawel Klos

Economy: The land is home to a large portion of the Imperium’s manufacturing base. Most of the inputs for these goods are brought in elsewhere, but the majority of military equipment, construction materials, textiles and even household commodities used in the new world can be traced back to Drzewa.

Primary Species: Mostly Light Elves, with communities of humans and dwarves living in the cities, along with Dark elf guards and officers.

Population: 64 million people, spread out in 4 different industrial cities

Culture: Originally an agricultural land, many of their traditions come from the different periods of harvest. However, due to the new demanding industries and strict oversight of the Imperium, most of the past traditions are practiced sparingly and mostly behind closed doors.
Religion: The primary deity is the Goddess Niiven, who is who the elves believe created them and gave each new light elf a life with a purpose. The clergy of this religion is composed of a Deacon of a City Cathedral, who rules over the priests and priestesses. They hold a sort of Mass every 6th day, where they take time to thank the goddess for her kindness and ask her of their true purpose in life. Due to the highly industrialized nature of society nowadays, with productivity trumping leisure, many people are still common visitors of the Cathedrals.

Location: Capital: Radoscy , Other cities: Smutku, Zlosk, Wstid.

Climate: Moderately cool all year round

Military: Has been granted rights to field its own military, already having 7 different infantry divisions, armed with the most deadly and modern artillery, rifles, reconnaissance and bomber aircraft, and transport vehicles that the factories can churn out. Including 4 light cavalry divisions on active duty, with 14 more infantry divisions in reserve that can each mobilize within days. There are also rumors of several secret projects being designed in Imperium military factories. Most military units however are commanded by Imperium officers, causing some strain between enlisted and officer than any other army. Its most prestigious unit is the Cavalry of Heaven, founded under the second of the Klos clan. This unit is said to have been chosen by Niiven herself to be her guardians, and were outfitted with halos, these warriors were the tip of the spear in nearly all of the Drzewa military campaigns, and the first to fight the Imperium incursion. It is now a shell of its former self, with its ranks now all being occupied with Imperium nobles.

Magic Prevalence: Solid/The majority of magic users are used in the factories and the military after being identified by Imperium officials during primary school and receiving training in Yllendyr.

History: The Kingom of Drzewa was once an agricultural valley, home of a proud union of light elf tribes, organized under the Klos dynasty. However, life for them was threatened by the Imperium, whom they faced with valor and bravery, but that was not enough, and they were absorbed into the Dominion. Now the citizens live under a puppet of a king, constantly humbled in their back breaking jobs and watchful guards.

Short Story
It was the moments of silence that made trips to the Cathedral of Niiven worth the trouble. However, the reason he got so much joy of visiting was not something that Gawel could properly explain. On some days he rationalized that it gave him moments of self-reflection that the normal halls in the palace could not, on others he thought that his visits were a good chance to get to know the people of his Dominion, despite him being in a full disguise and flanked by guards. But most of the time, it was the smell of the priest’s burning incense. It was by far no luxury, as he could afford far better and subtler scents from anywhere in the land. But even those velvety scents could not overpower the odorous backdrafts of the industry that his father praised so highly. But here, in the Cathedral, the common smell was so strong that you could almost forget the smell of burning coal and smog that resolutely reminded you were in the station that Niiven so mercifully put you in. But, like the few good things that Gawel thought was still left in the world, it was finally over.

The freezing masses of the congregation flooded back out onto the streets, flowing back to their homes and jobs. Gawel could almost taste their feelings of dread and dreary, or maybe it was the taste of the wine garnished with the sharp flavors of modern life that was served only minutes before. Both of his bodyguards were the only rocks in the stream of people leaving the building, faces as stoic as their training demanded. Gawel prayed that they would learn to actually blend in with a crowd before he finally getting up from his seat and Stojan’s voice being the first thing to welcome him back to reality. “If you’re all done with your excursion my lord, we should return you to the palace before the other guards start to suspect something.”
“Yes, lets. Although I feel that Deacon Leszek’s sermons are getting shorter and shorter these days, wouldn’t you think so?”
“I wouldn’t know about that, though I have been getting less sleep during his dreadful monologues if that’s what you mean.” Gawel let out a little chuckle, he always did like Leszek, him and his comrade Medard were the only parts of the Dominium Guard, Gawel could actually tolerate. The others being stoic statues or scheming rank climbers, or both when it came to their Yllendyr officers. He was risking a lot even speaking about doing something like this, if anyone too nosy found out, it could mean both of them would be without a source of income for their wives and children, or worse, execution. Gawel knew all too well how far the Yllendyr would take a mere threat of a chink in their armor seriously. Especially to the son of the leader of one of their so-called, “member states”. But those kinds of thoughts would better be served waiting in the halls of his palace, where his boredom would better serve his imagination. He exited the Cathedral and made the hike back to his regent life, all the while observing the still life portrait of gray made from the smoke of the factories in the sky, the cheap steel tenements, and the soot covered faces and sack clothes of the trinket salesmen and beggars they passed by. Gawel knew that this scene was far from the proud tales of cavalry charges and proud unions of elves that he admired when he was a child, but maybe one day, he can create his own stories. Gawel closed his eyes and remembered the scent of the incense.