Feburary 11th, 1901
Albin Hescher ducked as he exited the bowels of the civilian transport ship that had docked at the bustling Lierinin harbor. He had, in his early days, visited and traded on the frontlines that was the stock market floors of this infamous trade hub. A sigh of nostalgia escaped him as he took in the sounds and smells of the land around him, and despite his sharp, bony features, he looked like a school boy who had just finished a delicious pie. This, he thought, this was a land where truly all beings were equal. Those early days of trading stock fast and furious that had allowed him to accumulate his great wealth that rivaled even the nobility was far in away something he hoped to bring to his homeland, and had given him that burning hatred of the nobility. They had only inherited their wealth, not built it. They didn’t build the factories that filled their tax purses full, he did. They didn’t push Avalian Saltpeter on the weapon producing Lierins! He did.
Another sigh escaped the rigid man, a far sadder one. Those years were long behind him. Gone are the days of getting his own hands dirty, it was time for him to step up and get some real work done. He just hoped Adron could keep the nation together long enough for his works to bear fruit.
He climbed down the gangplank and began maneuvering his way through the crowd before he saw his contact. A horned elf stood waiting for him, with two Agurians at either side. The elf smiled at Albin approached, a smile that Albin’s fierce features did not return. “Mr. Hescher, it is good to see you after these years. I would not think you would show your face in this town again after you loss our previous bet.” the horned elf said with a sly smile. Albin’s face remained unchanged.
“Had you not payed off the teller, I’d have crushed your measly excuse of a trading firm long before you could have ever seen a cent.” Albin responded, the horned elf shrugged.
“The student becomes the teacher, as is the natural order of things.” the horned elf simply said. After a tense moment, a smile of mischief began to appear on both their faces, eventually breaking into a laugh. “I’m glad to see you have not lost your sense of humor, Albin. It has been too long.”
Albin’s face now had a warm smile, or at least, as warm as his face allowed. “Indeed Nyana, it has been too long. Though as you might imagine, I have been a bit busy these past few years to visit.”
“Yes yes, come, tell me more on the ride over there. Your telegram had explained as much and -oh, where are my manners. These two are Chai-Thar and Zel-Thar. They are my loyal aids that I picked up not long after you left for your homeland once more. Please, let them carry your luggage while we talk.” Alblin briefly sized the two up before nodding. Agurians had always been known to be loyal workers if worked right.
The drive was uneventful as they went threw the endlessly busy streets of Primal. Albin explained what he had to offer and his friend and former student prepared him for what he might get. Meeting with each council member individually meant he had to know how exactly to be flexible when arranging these deals and his first meeting was with Vulwyn Traro, a man that Albin had briefly met before during his big break through on the Saltpeter deal. He was to secure additional arms for his fledgling republic and in particular the much larger guns that Avalia had not been allowed to produce on her own in the days of the Imperium vassalage. In addition to whatever munitions and even blueprints he might acquire as well for domestic production. The shorter the supply lines, the greater the capability of the nation.
As the vehicle pulled in front of the impressive central building, Nayana gave Albin a nod. “He’s expecting you in there. I hope you know what you’re doing here. From what I understand, if you don’t have anything to offer, he’ll be just as quick to throw you out as he is to let you in. Seen it a few times myself.” Albin got out and leaned into the passenger compartment with a wry smile on his face.
“I wouldn’t have an appointment with the man if I came empty handed. If anything, this meeting shows he remembers me just as much as I remember him.” With that, he closed the door and made his way into the building. It was hard to wonder if he was in the right place, as he entered the central hall. It was flanked by either side with detailed scale models of various industrial complexes, maps of rail networks under Traro’s control, and artillery pieces his companies had produced. Albin was not a man who enjoyed such trivial things, and made his way straight to the receptionist’s desk at the end of it. Time was always short for him, but thankfully the receptionist merely waved him through. Upon entering the office, Albin suddenly did think he might of had the wrong place. By contrast to the grand hall earlier, the man’s office was far simpler, with merely a desk and two chairs placed on either side. Vulwyn Traro sat behind it, staring at Albin, emotionless. Albin returned the gaze with his own trademark look of assessment.
Not a word had been spoken, yet the two men had already made their opening moves. Albin nodded before approaching, hand out. “I believe you know who I am and I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know you, Mr. Traro. You and I have no need for such delaying pleasantries, so let us waste no time here. I have the full authority granted to me by the provisional council who currently heads the Republic of Avalia and all her markets, which means I can grant special provisions and grants to foreign investors in exchange for support. This not only includes easier access to Avalian markets and goods,but also land. With much of the nobility out of the picture, their estates and lands are currently under the control of the government. While some is already accounted for, I will be able to grant property to your company and investors should you prove to be a favorable trade partner. So….. Shall we begin?” Albin said. And while his face remained stoic, he couldn’t be happier on the inside, for he relished his trade.
~~~
February 10th, 1901
Adron stared at the map before him in his war tent. The room didn’t have much in the way of furniture aside from the wooden table in the center and a small desk in the corner. It was nonetheless cluttered with maps of all kinds, covering the walls, hanging from supports, and sitting on the table before him. He had been keeping close tabs on the movements of the Imperium’s legions for some time now, hoping to catch one or two before they could properly escape. He knew that they’d be back for his country, so one less legion to deal with when that day comes is more than enough of a victory for him.
They had moved surprisingly fast on the now infamous “election day” (the name becoming popular among the people). The 2nd Imperium Legion had utterly disbanded and devolved into a rabble, as expected, and the 4th Imperium Legion---stationed in the capital--had been destroyed during the coup. This had left three remaining legions in play in his country, and here he sat surrounding one…sort of. The 3rd Imperium Legion had retreated south towards the major port city of Lundburgh where it was expected to be evacuated by the Southern Fleet. Meanwhile, the 1st and 5th legions were fleeing north, having split up to take both of the cities that sat on the Helv River. Especially as the closing days of winter came upon them, those two cities were the only viable crossing areas for a force of that size. Adron had suspected as much and had preemptively stationed the 12th Infantry Division aided by the 6th Cavalry Brigade. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to stall the legions.
The Southern Fleet had been observed sailing down the coast in a bid to rescue Imperium forces. Avalian scout aircraft had stalked them as the fleet traveled further south. What else could they do? They certainly didn’t have the navy to challenge the Southern Fleet and certainly didn’t have the coastal battery to ward them off just yet. Adron sighed as he stepped back from the table and stretched. It seemed the 3rd Legion might slip away after all. Photos taken by the scouts seemed to indicate they had every intention of leaving. Adron hadn’t made much of a move either, as he didn’t want to start shelling his own city if he didn’t have to.
A voice suddenly cut off his thoughts. It was one of the tent guards. “Sir, there is a colonel out here who wants to speak with you. He says that he might have found you a victory, Sir.” Adron raised an eyebrow. That was quite bold for a mere colonel to ask for him directly. However, seeing how he himself had yet to come up with anything better than storming the city and engaging in a protracted siege, he decided to humor this upstart.
“Very well, let him in.” Adron said.
A man in his mid thirties stepped in. He wore the same blue uniform with red trim as Adron did, but with far fewer service stripes. His hair was a dark brown and he had a burn scar that prevented a patch of it from growing. “Ah, Colonel Nilsson, I should have known it was you. Please, enlighten me, what could you possibly have?”
Colonel Nilsson gave the Field Marshal a crooked grin. “Well sir, we can’t very well kick them out of the town without shelling the poor place to pieces. I would highly object to such a bombardment, as Lundburgh has the best brothels in all the Imperium if you ask me!” The Colonel said with a laugh.
“Cut to it,” Adron said flatly. Nilsson quickly held up his hands.
“Apologies Sir, I know you don’t want to shell this place, but if we don’t do something, we are liable to let the whole damn legion get off scot-free. That will set a bad precedent for this war, so here’s a compromise.”
“A “compromise”, Colonel?” Adron asked.
“Yes Sir! You see, I’ve been talking with some of those navy fusiliers, ya know, the ones stationed on our coastal fleet? Well as it happens, Avalian destroyers are identical to Imperium ones, seeing how we weren’t allowed our own full navy, of course. So, we were talking, and she tells me that Imperium naval vessels of that size rarely have any sort of dedicated armed element on board, ya know? Sure they got a small armory for when things get hectic, but no marines or nothing. A ship that size is just too small!” As the colonel talked, Adron’s eyes widened.
“Colonel are you suggesting we board an Imperium Destroyer?” Adron asked, staring hard at the colonel in front of him. The Colonel smirked, his grin betraying the deadly seriousness of this plan.
“No sir, I’m not just suggesting that. I’m suggesting we kick the Southern Fleet in the balls to let em know what they might endure should they decide to come back. We’re going to take that destroyer and create chaos that would make the cultists in Anhreich jealous.”
February 21st, 1901
The plan was put into action. A platoon, known as “Nilsson’s Sea Raiders”, formed from the docked ships of the now defunct coastal defence force, took off from the shoreline just south of harbor city. Nature was seemingly on their side that night, as cloud cover permeated the sky with little star light or moonlight reaching the sea. Armed with shotguns, carbines, and plain old knives and pistols, the Fusiliers began to quietly search for a target. Soon, they found one. A torpedo destroyer was well on its way towards the port to aid in the evacuation. Silently the platoon flew down and landed upon the vessel.
Aboard the Empress Mobara, the captain of the proud dreadnought watched quietly as the ship sat anchored just outside the harbor of Lundburgh. For the most part, he was very pleased with how things were going. Avalian troops had yet to make any major offensive for fearing his mighty guns would stop them in their place. A part of him almost wished they would, just so he could smash them. But as it stood, no such thing had taken place yet and pulling these legions home for the war effort back in Yllendthyr proved to be a far more pressing task. As much as it pained him to see the legion’s in such a state of retreat, it was his duty to escort them home, and escort them he would.
Blinking, the captain found himself on the floor of his bridge, people yelling around him. Slowly, he attempted to get up before stumbling. The floor wasn’t quite the right angle and he felt as though he was a brand new ensign the day after shore leave. What had happened? Why were his ears ringing? It was so annoying…. The captain’s eyes widened. The ship was the wrong angle, a very, very wrong angle. The dreadnought listed heavily to the portside and one of the batteries was missing. One of the batteries was missing!? The captain quickly ran up to the window. Sure enough, a smoldering pit of hell fire was all that remained of the forward battery. A bridge member grabbed him “Sir! Sir do you hear me? We’ve been hit by a torpedo sir, the ship is going down sir!” He sounded distance, like he was yelling down a smokestack at him. What was going on? A torpedo? From what? From who? These were the questions that filled the captain’s head before fire engulfed them as the second ammunition store blew.
A cry of triumph erupted from Nilsson’s Sea Raiders as they soared into the night. Their torpedos had struck home, and dealt a blow to the Southern Fleet.
Adron stood on the shoreline, watching the glimmering lights in the distance. The platoon had returned with few casualties and two possible dreadnought kills to their name along with a heavy cruiser as the cherry on top. He allowed a smile to form on his old face as he thought. While they’d certainly not stopped the Imperium or her navy, they certainly had smacked her in the face. Avalia was only getting started, and Adron was ready for whatever was next.
~~~
February 21st, 1901
Situated in one of the few passes of the Voiru Mountains is the old city of Adrean. It was smaller, more densely packed than some of the more modern cities to the south, and sits nearly two thousand feet above sea level, giving a fair more colder environment. Legend speaks of this city being a place where the monsters from the north had been rebuffed and where the Sky’s King fought a pivotal battle. What better place for a last stand?
At least, that’s what Agata Bennick thought as she looked upon the city from her estate. She was a noble, an old woman who had left the years of her youth well behind her. Here wrinkled face seemed to be permanently set in a frown, though she had plenty to frown about. The royalist had been stomped out across the nation with Adrean remaining the defiant exception. Her butler had warned her of the coup before official word had reached the northern city and she had acted quickly, rallying what few nobles had escaped Adron’s blade and throwing up heavy barricades. While local republican militia had proven a threat, they had failed in preventing the royalists from seizing the inner city, where the grain house stores and armory sat. Now all the republicans could do is sit in the outskirts and starve.
How long until it became the opposite though? Agata pondered this, and chuckled quietly to herself. Truly, it would be a work of fate and art for things to play out so. A direct parody to what has been happening for over a decade.
Shaking her head, she let the thought go. There was no room for irony right now. This was a fight for survival, for herself and for the tradition that the bastard Field Marshal seemed so intent on burning.
It was time for action.
~~~
-ALOLVI NEWS-
THE GLOVE IS TOSSED!
Royalist in the northernmost city of Adrean have successfully taken control of the city center, threatening to starve the city out unless they meet with Adron himself! Dutchess Agata Bennick is suspected to be leading the royalists in Adrean!
A SINKING EMPIRE WITH A SINKING EMPRESS, ADRON STRIKES!
In the major port city of Lundburgh, Imperium forces attempt to evacuate to the Southern Fleet off the coast! Field Marshal Adron wouldn’t let them get away so easily, launching a daring raid with a special group of Valkyrian soldiers known as “Nilsson’s Sea Raiders”! While details of the raid are limited, we can confirm that the Imperium dreadnought “Empress Mobara” was sunk, as well as the dreadnought “ Emperor Mylvyth” and heavy cruiser “Mophodo” being severely damaged! While the Imperium forces were able to slip away, the message was clear! STAY OUT!
Meanwhile, reports are coming in that remaining Imperium forces are making a bid to retreating across the Voiru Mountains at Adrean, but republican forces have already dug in around the two river cities of Smedeholm and Verme, waiting for relief from Adron’s southern forces!
AVALIAN INDUSTRY LEADER SPOTTED IN LIERIN!
Infamous industry leader and council member Albin Hescher was spotted in the famous twin cities! Refusing to speak to on site reporters, one could only wonder why the Avalian man was in the big city! Leasure? Business? Or getting out while he still can?!
