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Been practicing drawing for a few months now. Biggest tip I can give so far is copy, copy, copy. It really helps you learn the basics in a very hands on way,
7 yrs ago
Current
Been practicing drawing for a few months now. Biggest tip I can give so far is copy, copy, copy. It really helps you learn the basics in a very hands on way,
5
likes
7 yrs ago
Finally caught up on Rick and Morty. Pretty good shit. It's not every day a cartoon reminds me of my existential crisis.
1
like
7 yrs ago
The Boarder Patrol in Vermont has more important matters than illegal Mexicans. They have to stop the White Walkers.
1
like
7 yrs ago
Unborn babies are essentially mech pilots, right?
2
likes
7 yrs ago
You know what's worse then radio Country Music? Country Music Radio hosts.
“And in the distance I saw it, the future. Bright and filled with fire and violence, spreading across the world so rapidly, so swiftly, nobody could have ever hoped to escape it. It was the end of times for certain. “ -Unknown journal entry, detailing the beginning of the Century of Ash
ALL TERRITORY HAS BEEN CLAIMED AND WE ARE STARTING! FOR THOSE WHO ARE INTERESTED IN JOINING NOW, YOU MUST SELECT THE TERRITORY OF AN NPC NATION! BE WARNED THAT OTHER PLAYER NATIONS MAY ALREADY BE INTERACTING WITH NPCS!
For over ten years, darkness had enveloped the world. A sudden and massive eruption of a volcano in the northern hemisphere created an ash cloud that covered most of Othea. The world cooled and for those ten years, famine and internal strife became the norm. Empires shuddered or outright crumbled, governments collapsed, and in some cases, entire species were eradicated.
From the ashes of the old world, now comes a new reshuffling of the world. New ideologies have taken hold of governments, backwater nations suddenly having the room to expand once more. The world is now stepping into a new age, filled with fire, steel, and smell of exhaust from the engines of war!
**BE NICE** Whether we disagree or not, don’t get personal, don’t get mean. We’re here to have fun first and foremost, not stress each other out. Make sure to treat your fellow man with some respect please
**BE FAIR** This RP is a story driven, character focused nation roleplay. You may have noticed from the nation template that there is no real stats. This is because this isn’t about winning a game, but building a fantastical tale with friends. As such, it is expected that you do not meta-game, create a mary-sue nation, or anything of that sort. Battles will be collaborative efforts between players to achieve the coolest, best outcome! Maybe the underdog will grab a unexpected victory from the jaws of defeat, or perhaps a rising empire will crush all who dare stand before it! These are the moments that we all enjoy, so make them enjoyable for all!
**STAY FOCUSED** We like to go down rabbit holes when discussing various aspects of the setting or story of RPs. For the sake of time and ease, let’s make sure we stay focused on the RP itself. Remember to get shit done!
**STAY ACTIVE** Due to the nature of this RP, nobody should expect you to post every day or what have you. However, baring some sort of life related complications, post at least once a week! This will be enforced strictly, so make sure to provide a reason for any delay at the earliest convenience. Real life always takes priority, but it is rude to just go radio silent with no explanation. In the event that a player drops out whether willfully or not, the nation will be temporarily taken over by the GM/Co-GMs for the sake of continuity in whatever story that’s been established. Any requests to rejoin the RP will be reviewed on a case by case system.
Geography Maps Climate Map
Political Map (subjected to change, so check often!)
**RULE OF COOL** One of the most attractive aspects of this genre of RPing is seeing some cool stuff come to light! I’m talking viable airship fleets, fireball slinging shock troopers, and diesel powered mecha! This and whatever else you can come up with is free game! However, this plays into the rule of “Be Fair”. These weapons, magics, and races all serve to characterize your nation and customize it to your liking, not to automatically win wars!
**IDEOLOGY AND GOVERNMENT** Remember that radical changes to ideology of a nation can have lasting effects both positive and negative. No one form of government is perfect! Aside from that, go nuts! Whether it be a corporate paradise or a theocratic god emperor, any crazy and wacky system of government is encouraged.
**CLAIMING LAND** Claiming land on the political map is a first come, first served system. Be aware that while I try my best to keep the map as up to date as possible, it may not always be accurate.
**PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR ENVIRONMENT** Make sure you’re nation makes sense in regards to the environment it finds itself in. Nations with lots of neighbors and little sea access are probably not gonna be floating a massive navy any time soon and nations with little islands and nothing else probably aren’t going to find everything they need. Pay attention to the geography and use it as a means to motivate your nation to action during these turbulent times!
**KEEPING UP WITH THE NEIGHBORS** There isn’t a whole lot of unclaimed territory in the world anymore, so you probably are gonna have neighbors. Make sure your nation at least is vaguely aware of them and has some sort of established relation. It doesn’t have to be a 30 page essay that flushes out the shared history of two states, just a few lines of backstory.
**TECHNOLOGY** This RP has a tech setting that is Dieselpunk inspired, meaning it carries the aesthetic and nature of the late 1930s and early 40s. As such, tanks, prop driven aircraft, and semi auto rifles are all in fashion this time of the century! These parameters are intentionally vague as to allow you to have lots of creative freedom to come up with all sorts of crazy stuff. This was a time period of rapid and diverse innovation so have fun!
**MAGIC** What would a pseudo-fantasy-industrial nation roleplay be without some magic? Generally speaking, there are no real set rules for magic in this world, so once again, you're allowed to provide a lot of creative liberty. With this liberty comes responsibility! Make sure you’re not trying to argue for any world ending magic nukes. If you've read this far, DM me with "your a silly fish"
**YA GET ALL THAT?!**
Good! Here is your Nation Sheet Template! Once you've completed your NS, post it here in the OOC section for GM/Co-GM approval. Upon approval, you have permission to move it over the Characters thread.
Flag: (Optional) Nation Name: Type of Government: Head(s) of Government: Economy (Main imports, exports, industries, etc.): Unique Technologies (the more exotic or interesting stuff your nation uses or has come up with): Primary Species: Population: Culture: Religion and Other Beliefs: Location/Territories: Climate: Military: Magic Prevalence/Usage: History/ Background Info: Nation Relations (Can be as simple as a brief two line summary for your neighbors):
Major General Kraft Styke crouched behind the rocky hills that overlooked Smedeholm, quietly observing the Imperium's legion as they began to form up for the assault. A order straight from Adron had ordered him to hold the city and prevent the two legions trapped within the nation from breaking through the Adrean. An audacious task, even for a member of Adron’s military cabinet. Regardless, the 12th Infantry Division and 6th Cavalry Brigade was to hold the line, and hold the line Styke would do.
The morning fog had finally began to lift and Styke hoped his special “preparations” hadn’t been noticed. Flanking to his left and right sat two companies of infantry, lightly dug in along the ridge with some hastily dug earthworks and barbed wire. It was a hasty job to be sure, but one that would have to do. Styke pulled himself up from his little observation point, and began to make his way down the line when a Valkyrian messenger swooped in. “Sir!” she said, snapping a quick salute before handing him a letter. “Report from Colonel Olaf of the 6th Cavalry. He’s in position and ready to strike upon your signal!”
Syke nodded to the messenger. “Thank you corporal, take your position accordingly and good luck.” The messenger gave another salute and then took off down the line.
By noon, the attack began. Imperial legion infantry began to charge towards the hills…
Major General Bacseri Nartheh peered through his binoculars at the attack. It was finally noon, the sun clearing away the last of the morning fog, giving Nartheh a more clear picture. As he could tell, his scout’s report hadn’t changed. The enemy forces were dug in on the ridge line outside the city. He watched as the third wave finally began to reach the earthworks and machine guns to overwhelm the enemy. As expected, this battle would be over before the day was out. General Nartheh lamented wasting such good soldiers both of his and the Avalians. They had proven themselves well overseas in the New World and Kitigawa, but now it seemed they aimed their bayonets at the Imperium itself. Shaking his head, he gestured to his entourage. “Prepare to form up for the final assault, I intend to lead this one personally. Let's end this and unite with the loyalists to the north.”
Soon Nartheh was among his men, trudging up the hill, watching the enemy Avalians begin to fall back from their line. “Forward men! To me, to me! We mustn't let the traitors of the Imperium escape!” He called, pistol high, and began to follow after his men over the line. Nimbly, he hopped over the earthwork, seeing the fleeing Avalian infantry before him. He glanced down his left and right and suddenly noticed something odd. Few Avalian casualties lay on the defensive line… and the machine guns were…
Nartheh’s blood suddenly went cold. He turned again to face the Avalian infantry fleeing down the hill as his troops followed them into the open. Suddenly, those fleeing troops dropped down, disappearing briefly, only to reveal what he realized to late. A sad smile crossed his face. “Well done…” he whispered...
“MEN READY! OPEN FIRE!” Syke yelled, firing a flare into the air and blowing his whistle. At his command, his second, hidden line popped up from behind the berm and opened fire at the Imperium infantry suddenly caught in the open. Machine guns rattled and bolt action rifles barked over the screams of the dying men before them. Some Imperium soldiers threw down their weapons and begin to run back while others still charged courageously in vain. Upon the second whistle blow, Avalian soldiers suddenly climbed up from their concealed positions and charged forward, bayonets lowered. Soon they were standing back at their original position, seeing the enemy retreating back down the hill. Syke waited, his breath held. Suddenly, the Avalian 6th Cavalry rushed in from the rear, their movements concealed by the earlier days fog. Several brutal volleys came from them as they neared the Imperium Legion’s rear, before stowing their lever action carbines and drawing their swords. The Imperium Legion attempted a desperate defense as their reserve forces quickly began to reform in the direction of the cavalry.
Too late.
Between the cavalry at their rear and the company of infantry flooding down at their front, they were soon crushed in the middle…
An hour later, the battle of Helna Heights was over. Walking through the smoke covered fields, Styke eyed the bodies of Avalians and Imperium alike. While his ruse had worked and his counter charge a success, he could tell before he read the report in front of him this had not been a easy victory. However, he did allow himself a sigh of relief at his good fortune paying off in this gamble. Had his calvary been discovered or his enemy’s scouts had gotten close, this battle would have been far from over.
--- February, 1901 The northern city of Adrean.
Lucas pulled his wide brimmed hat down as he passed a group of royalist troops. The streets of central Adrean bustled with activity reinforcements and supplies to to the not so distant barricades that surrounded the central city. The forces had made great progress with the help of the local King’s Guard, but the partisans and republican police force was putting up a bitter last stand in lower industrial quadrant near the river. From what he could gather, they were evacuating the citizens who wanted to swear allegiance to this upstart republic, and Lady Bennick had every intention of returning Adron the favor and dropping these upstart’s heads in baskets. Sighing, Lucas ducked into an alleyway, following it to a back door. Pausing for a moment, he entered.
The room was musty and dimly lit by the light seeping in from the boarded up windows. A man facing away from Lucas sat at the abandoned bar near the far end of the room while two other men quietly smoked at a table. “You’re late, Crown.” The voice came from the man at the bar, still facing away from Lucas.
“Sorry, Hammer, the fighting picked up right as I crossed back over the line. Nobody told me the attack schedule had changed.” Lucas replied casually, though his tone betrayed his annoyance.
Hammer snorted and waved his hand dismissively. “You know as well as I do how zealous the King’s Guard can be when dealing with traitors. Speaking of, your assignment. Do we have that bastard yet? Lady Bennick is growing impatient.”
Lucas starred hard at his feet, his hands clenched tightly into fists. “No, the Ghost of the Sky alluded our trap again. We lost Shovel and Hoe during the raid. The Gho-”
“Don’t speak that bastard’s fancy title again here. Oscar Howler is a murderer and a traitor, no more no less.” Hammer interrupted as he finally turned to face Lucas. Hammer’s hard, menacing gaze rested on Lucas, causing him to shift uncomfortably before he could stop himself. “We have our names to protect ourselves. Hammer, Crown, Shovel, Hoe, Axe, we call ourselves these things to confuse our enemies and tell our friends all they need to know about us. Oscar murders three officers, ten loyal officials, and nearly takes our lady’s head off without even being seen half the fucking time, and thus, gets a fancy, romantic name from the locals like he’s some vengeful fucking angel of death!” Hammer now got up out of his seat, addressing the rest of the men and women in the room. “No. He is a Valkyrian, pure and fucking simple who can pull of good shots. This does not make him a ghost, a god, or anything else! It only makes him a traitor, and like the rest of these traitors, it’s our job to make sure his head is in a basket before this war ends.” Hammer’s gaze returned to Lucas. “Take Wrench and Pickaxe and start shadowing the bastard again.”
Lucas nodded, “Yes sir. I will see to it.” Suddenly, Hammer crossed the room in two great strides and was suddenly face to face with Lucas.
Leaning in, Hammer said quietly. “Don’t fuck this up, boy, or all of our heads will be in baskets.”
A portly man in a fine suit walked among the charcoal ruins of the port city. It had been five days since the Imperium’s navy had burned the city… two since the fires had been stopped. The sudden and horrific shelling had killed a great many in the city, destroying nearly 70% of the dockyards and related districts. Possibly worst of all, not only did Avalian citizens parish in the blaze, but Imperium refugees, Legion soldiers, and whoever else the fleet had merely left behind to meet their fate. The fine suited man frowned and kicked a piece of burnt wood from his path. This massacre had proven one thing to many, both within and outside of Avalia. Ecruir Vyalviur was a madman. A voice suddenly pulled the man from his thoughts.
“Gunner? I’m somewhat surprised to find you here.” Gunner glanced up, seeing his fellow council member, and rival, approach him. Niklos Eskil was a thin man with a sharp, sunken face that gave him a hard appearance. He was Gunner’s biggest political rival, now that all of the nobility had found themselves under the blade of Adron’s vengeance. Gunner scoffed.
Not all of them, apparently.
“Yes, well, the Tears of the Sky had a fairly large following here, so I thought I’d pay a visit and give my local branch here my condolences. We’re currently trying to clean up the harbor, get it at least serviceable, but a lot of ships burned in that fire too it seems.” Gunner said, gesturing the sorry harbor before them. Niklos gave a small nod. He gazed out over the harbor, his face somehow even harder than its normal appearance.
“We knew the consequences of our actions, certainly, but this… this is madness. I knew the Imperium cared little for its subjects, we all did, but this truly demonstrates how little. It shows that they don’t care to retake Avalia, bring her into the fold, or any of that sort. They just want to burn it to the ground.” Niklos said in a solemn tone. He turned back to face Gunner. “It at least burnt a hole in our upcoming election plans, didn’t it?”
Gunner snorted “Of course you’d be thinking of such things at a place like this. The plight of the common man surrounds you in its most dramatic form and you don’t seem to take much notice.” Gunner finished, chin held high. Niklos was suddenly in his face, merely inches away.
“Tell me Councilman Hampus, were you really out here to offer your sympathies, or merely sizing up how much union revenue the Tears lost here? Or should I ask how much that ridiculous costume of yours costs?” Niklos said a low whisper. Slowly, Gunner stepped back, taken back by the sudden move. Fury slowly replaced Gunner’s shocked expression, quickly stabbing his finger at Niklos.
“Dare say that again, and I will call you out! I care about the people under me, and when I get a letter from a Union head telling me that half my workers perished in the flames while the other half lost their homes and jobs, I act, Councilman Eskil, and I do it personally!” Gunner said angrily. He was about to continue when Niklos held up a hand.
“Good! Then you are a worthy rival. From what I had gathered on you, I thought your personality and motives were just as bad as your drinking habit and sense of taste. As it stands… I believe you. I’m here admittedly for a far more selfish reason.” Gunner’s fury suddenly abated and was replaced with confusion.
“And what is that?” Gunner asked slowly. Niklos gave a small, sad smile, and gestured to a spot not far down the street. It was a burnt pile of timber, not unlike everything else on this street.
“That, right there, was were I was born. I grew up in the fish market district of this city… It was here I saw the barbarism first hand when my Valkyrian friend was beaten to death by nobleman, right here in this street.” Niklos eyes seemed distant. “He’d ran out in front of a carriage by accident, spooking the horses and breaking a wheel spoke in the process. The duke had gotten out and beaten the poor boy. One swing after another as people merely kept their heads down and went about their business. It was here where my journey to free my friends and people from the shackles of serfdom and monarchy began.” He turned back to Gunner.
“We don’t agree with each other on a great many things. We both know that this upcoming election is going to shape Avalian politics for the rest of our history. But we are not monsters. Not like them.” Niklos held out a hand. Gunner stared for a moment, before hesitantly taking the offer. A mischievous grin spread across the large man’s round face.
“Don’t think that won’t stop me from whipping you in the elections, ya fish faced bastard.” Gunner said. Niklos gave an equally mean grin.
An Avalian Mountain Watch soldier poses for a photo, Talnaberg, circa 1900
February 10th, 1901, Talnaberg
Sirens blared as men and women of the Mountain Watch moved into their positions. If there was any place ready for Vaurgemyr’s attack, it was the Mountain Watch of the ancient city of Talnaberg. The great guns of mountain bastions rose like ancient serpents awaken from their slumber. The old redoubts and castle fortifications had been only somewhat modernized, and the city itself at their center still had its long, black, sharply sloped walls surrounding it.
Since the times before the Imperium, the Mountain Watch had guarded the border against monster and man alike. They were created during the age of the Sky’s King, who had unified and formed Avalia proper through might and magic. Some say the old walls of the city carried ancient wards of magic to repel any would be magical creatures who assaulted it. Of course, their purpose was obvious.
To hold back the dragons.
So, as generations had done before, the men and women, Valkyrians and Humans, sharpened their blades and prepared to defend their homeland from enslaving menace.
Catarina Ossler, the fifty five year old Valkyrian, watched the preparations unfold in front of her. She was the current captain of the Talnaberg Mountain Watch Garrison and the de facto leader of the Mountain Watch. She had already sent her telegrams to the Field Marshal alerting him to the dragon’s slave armies movements. Spreading her old, brown gray wings, she suddenly took the sky, hovering above the main wall. Around her, she saw the domed defenses of the city. In older days, they covered musketeers, archers, and even Royal Cabal mages from attacks from above, while allowing them to fire. Now they held something even more destructive. Modern artillery. The city’s defense themselves were formidable in their own right, but all around her, hill forts and castles readied as well. Some had been modernized, while others…Catarina smirked, others would have battles straight out the tales of old.
“MOUNTAIN WATCH OF TALNABERG!” she bellowed through a crude megaphone. The men and women halted for a moment and stared. ”Vaurgemyr knows that they will have to break us in this city or lose the war. If we can stand up to them, all of Avalia may be free and the life of the nation may move forward into broad, sunlit mountainside. But if we fail, then the whole country, including humans, including Valkyrians, including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age made more sinister by their perversion of power. For long we have suffered the bellows of pain from below. For long we’ve heard the scraping of their chains below. They will not cast those shackles upon us! We are the Mountain Watch! We are Avalians! WE ARE FREE!” The cries and shouts from the men and women below her would have drowned out any artillery barrage. Catarina turned and faced the north, not bothered by the cold wind mountain wind that blew from it.
They were ready. ---
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 19th, 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 torpedoes 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 17th, 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!
THE MOUNTAIN WATCH STANDS LOYAL! THE REPUBLIC PREPARES!
For hundreds of years, the infamous Mountain Watch of Avalia has stood guard, holding monsters or foes alike at bay, so the legends goes! Now they stand ready once more, manning the old bulwarks that dot the Voiru Mountains. The Republic stands ready to do battle with the dragon minions of the corrupt Imperium and anything else that dares throw itself at her mighty walls! The captain of the Talnaburg Mountain Watch stated so, quoted, "The masters of this great cannon orchestra shall weave a song of hellfire and destruction the likes of which have never been seen!"
The man sat on the wide stairs leading to an empty throne, watching the trickle of blood run down it. He gave a weary sigh and groaned as he rose, betraying his age. Streaks of grey ran through his neatly trimmed black hair and specks of blood covered his ornate blue uniform. It had been a long night for him, and, as he suspected, he had a long day ahead of him. To his left a servant’s door opened, revealing a bald man with dark skin. He wore a similar uniform of the older gentleman, yet with only two red service stripes and far less decorated.
“Well Gotham, are we in the clear?” the older man spoke, with a notable tone of exhaustion rather than fear. Gotham nodded, yet grimaced.
“Yes, we were able to catch them mostly unawaress... One woke up and had retaliated. . . we loss two before we could silence the sorcerer. I’m sorry Field Marshal….”
Field Marshal Adron shook his head. Nine years. Nine years of careful planning to destroy the monarchy overnight. Nine years suddenly rushed into action when that damn fool of a prince up and died, dragging this whole damn Imperium into chaos. Now those damn twins are feuding, forcing him to rush is final plans ahead of schedule. Now here he was, feeling guilting for the two that had died on account of said rush. “Alright. Well give the order. Round em up. Before the sun rises we will have those bastards in chains. “
Gotham nodded, “And what of the king?” .
“I’ll deal with him.” The Field Marshal said, storming off clutching his sabre. The halls of the King’s Garden were as much of a labyrinth as one could expect of such an old and excessively lavish building. A labyrinth that Adron had used to his advantage when he had sprung his coup. He found himself standing before two great doors that lead to the palace church with two soldiers fiddling with the lock. One took notice of the Field Marshal and nodded to him, knowing Adron would rather him continue his work than interrupt it for a more formal greeting.
“Almost there sir, these locks aren’t so much as challenging as they are tedious with the size of their tumblers being so huge.” he said just as the door made a loud click. “There we go, after you, sir.” the soldier said, as he and his companion heaved the doors open.
Inside was the king and his queen, kneeling near the altar. A priest whispered in his ear when he suddenly looked up and saw the Field Marshal strutting towards them. The king whirled around, his face covered in smudged make-up, his hair tangled. “You bastard!” cried the king as he began to march up towards Adron. The priest called after him to stop, but the king followed no such order, awkwardly clutching something behind his back.
“Holfgar, I have come arrest you for treason.” Adron yelled, eyeing the hidden hand as the king stormed up to him.
“Treason?! TREASON?! Die traitor!” The king screamed, raising a ancient looking pistol. The hammer clicked when the trigger was pulled. For a moment, there was silence.
*click*
Still, nothing. Adron sighed, suddnely rushing forward, yanking the pistol from the king’s hand and smacking Holfgar’s face with the butt of the weapon. The king collapsed to the ground with a cry, blood running down the side of his head. Through all of this, his queen merely stayed at the altar, quietly praying. “You… y-you can’t do this! I’m the king! We trusted you! My father trusted you!” The king sheepishly said, staring up at Adron from the floor. Adron studied the pistol for a moment, then looked at the king. A pang of pity went through him. The man looked no more than a young boy than a king, despite being nearly twenty four. In fact, it seemed like only yesterday he was bouncing the young prince on his knee.
His face curled into anger.
It also felt as though only yesterday he had received his wife’s head in a wooden box, that only yesterday had King Holfgar the VIII merely ignored this disgusting abuse of power. All the pity disappeared as he stared and said. “The age of kings is dead, Holfgar, and I have killed it.” With that, he motioned to his soldiers to take them into custody.
Feburary 4th, 1901, 09:00AM
Adron sat in the former king’s grand office, eyes drooping a little. He stared at the large wooden doors leading to the office, waiting for his co-conspirators to arrive. By now, the major majority of the nobility had been rounded up by the Army, being placed in the Royal Prison and his messengers had already spread the word of the upcoming executions. The long night weighed on him more as the minutes crept by. Much of the Royal Guard had been simultaneously killed while the Royal Cabal had been gutted in their sleep. Well… not all of them had been. He had lost two already, and he knew he’d need every single soldier if he wanted to secure his nation’s bid for independence and prosperity.
At that moment, the doors flung open and walked the now most powerful men and women of the nation, those who had been the biggest players in all of this. First and foremost was the head of the Royal Research Division, Alicia Karlsson. She had felt the sting of the nobility long before she had begun her work under the king. With the new king had brought a far smaller budget, and a burning anger in her heart. Following her in was a portly man who wore a clean suit with a red tear drop pin on his chest. Gunner Hampus was the leader of the largest labor union in the nation, and knew all too well what the nobility had planned for him and his Tears of the Sky labor union. Behind him came a older man with sharp features and piercing blue eyes. He wore a black suit with a red undershirt. Albin Hescher was an industrialist, particularly in arms manufactory and steel works. He had a sharp wit about him that could almost intimidate anyone who dare challenge it. Finally came a man seemed unassuming with his round spectacles and ordinary dress, but Niklos Eskil was the leader of the growing Republican faction who sought to craft Avalia into a new state.
Adron stood, gesturing to his co-conspirators. Before he could speak, Gunner spoke up.
“So it is done then? The Royal Cabal is gone? The Nobility, in chains??” he asked, the nervous tone betraying his feelings. Adron sighed, and returned to his seat behind the grand oak desk.
“Yes, the 10th Brigade has done its job. All the major players of the nobility, their families, their staff, and even children are currently sitting in prison. So far, no Royalists have rallied yet, but my men have their posts.” Adron could feel the air of relief spread through the room. “Their heads will be in baskets by the days end.” At this, a few hardened their gaze.
Alicia’s eyebrows raised, her eyes widening. “You intend to simply execute them all? Today? I knew we aimed to stop them… but this is going to far! We might find all of our heads in baskets just because of your personal vendetta!” she exclaimed.
“It’s not personal,” Adron snapped. But he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone. They all knew about his wife. All the Imperium knew. That didn’t stop him from denying it. “They would have destroyed Avalia as we know it. We would have been slaves in all but name. The people are starving, the nation suffers under Holfgar and would continue suffering more. That is why we send Holfgar and the nobility to the guillotine.”
“Are you going to say anything? To the growing crowd outside?” Niklos Eskil said, speaking up from his seat. Adron thought on this for a moment before shaking his head.
“I’ll say nothing today. Besides, I’m not stepping in to lead this country, you four are. I’m here to protect the country and keep peace while you create a government with the interests of all in mind.” Adron said.
“It would be wise to say something” Niklos replied, “To keep the peace.”
Adron took them all in with his gaze, glaring. "The people want blood right now, not words. They've wanted it for years. I've felt it. You've felt it. That's why we came together to pull Holfgar from his throne. I'm going to give them blood. A lot of it. So much it will sicken them, choke them. Then my soldiers will funnel them toward the Oslov District, where they can loot the nobility's houses and rape their daughters and kill their younger sons. I intend to let them choke on their madness. In two days' time I will put down the rioters with one hand and give food and clothing to the poor with the other, and I will restore order"
The four council members stared back silently before looking away. Gunner huffed and gave a grim smile. “You’re a dangerous man, Adron, you speak as if you can control a mob.” he said.
"Mobs can't be controlled." Adron said. "But they can be unleashed. I'm willing to accept the consequences. If you must object, then do so now, but I tell you: These people need blood."
After a few more moments of silence, Adron waved his hand. “You have matters to discuss, get on with it.”
An hour passed with the council members discussing matters of the state. Governors needed appointment while officials needed to be named. Adron nearly fell asleep at his desk before a soldier interrupted the meeting. “It’s time, sir, the guillotines has been assembled and the crowd is waiting. Adron nodded and motioned to the council to follow him to the balcony. When he stepped onto the balcony, he was nearly knocked back by what he saw. The King’s Garden took up nearly four square city blocks with a massive plaza in front of the palace, yet it seemed every single soul in the capital had come to see the execution, filling the plaza and spilling out into the distance. Adron began to sweat briefly, doubting what he said earlier, but soon got ahold of himself. The time had come, and he was committed without a doubt. He looked over to the soldier posted on the soldier next to him and nodded. The soldier raised a red flag. An iron gate creaked loudly open across the plaza. A path had been cleared by soldiers posted along the cobblestone ground, barely keeping the crowd at bay. A line, stretching all the way to to the Royal Prison began to move. Nobles in various attire, chained together by ankle and wrist, were urged slowly along, and at its head walked the king and the queen.
Seeing the long line, the surging anger of the crowd, and five guillotines below him, Adron sighed, but for the first time, not out of weariness, but out of a sense of content. “Finally…” Adron thought, “I’ve done it.”
-BREAKING NEWS-
HOLFGAR DEAD!!! THE REPUBLIC STANDS TALL!!!
Today Field Marshal Adron overthrew the monarchy of Avalia, charging the King and the nobility with treason, neglect of the nation, and abandonment of its people, sentencing them to death by beheading! Despite an attempted attack on the procession, the gathered crowd destroyed the King’s Guard before they could even get close! Word is spreading of mobs wreaking havoc across several districts. The Field Marshal vows that order shall be restored in the capital. Across the nation, the people celebrate this new hero of Avalia as the army ejects what little overseeing agencies of the Imperium have in their once loyal vassal. Now the Republic braces for new enemies and a new government!
Type of Government: A Transitional Authoritarian Democracy
Head(s) of Government: -King Harold Holfgar the VIII, the former ruling monarch, deceased -Helna Govics, former head of the Royal Cabal, deceased -Field Marshal Adron, Leader of the General Staff and commander of Avalian Armed Forces - Alicia Karlsson, council member, Head of R&D - Gunner Hampus, council member, Head of the Tears of the Sky Labor Union - Albin Hescher, council member, famous Industrialist - Niklos Eskil, council member, head of the "Republican Movement"
Economy/Technology: Thanks to the progressive policies set forth by the preceding monarch, the Avalian economy has done well to modernize and industrialize to a point of being on par with most modern powers. This is also thanks to in part the large systems of navigable rivers that snake through the nation, generating a far higher ceiling for potential capital wealth. In fact, with trade and transport relatively easy, the resulting canals and railways only furthered this rise in both credit and capital. With a growing middle class and a easing of acquiring credit, this has led to a boom in entrepreneurship and innovation. Despite this industrialization, and with it, urbanization, some of the main exports come from agriculture, being namely cotton and wheat. Salt and Coal also remain high on the export list, thanks to the very rich low lying mountains that make up part of the northern border. The largest imports happened to be sugar, coffee, silver, and spices.
The lack of a proper merchant marine and the domestic problems at home as created a highly centralized economy within the nation. Large unions control vast swaths of labor, unions who not a decade before were entirely illegal. Various ideas of Social Liberalism and Market Liberalism are practiced within by said organizations as the government itself has yet to take any true hard stance on the matter. Regardless, the Republic most certainly practices and endorses capitalism and only seeks to modify the system, not outright replace it with an entirely different system. This has lead to an explosion of a middle class and with it, a internal consumer market, creating a healthy tax base that has been more than useful in stitching the country back together.
The nation’s military and civilian benefit from cutting edge communication technology which when combined with their complex railroad, road, and more recently canal efforts have lead to a nation where a message from one end of the nation could be spread to all the far corners in merely hours or days.
Among many of the innovations, none of have causes as much of a stir than in heavier than air flight. For the past few decades, the modernized army had utilized lighter than air balloons as both scouts and staging points for their now famous Winged Fusiliers, but much to the dismay of Valkyrians everywhere, their kingdom was not the first. Vaspen was able to get some aircraft flying before the Avalians could, and thus the previous king ordered full research to grow their own homemade aircraft. For now, the AR-3 serves as the latest in Avalian design, with much talk surrounding other related fields as well. However to this day, a sort of jealousy and rivalry is felt towards the Vaspen aircraft designers.
Primary Species: Humans
Valkyrians, Valkyria The natives of the lands the Autumn Republic are known as Valkyria. In terms of their physiology, they are fairly similar to humans, but with very notable differences. First and foremost is their bird like features.With their large wings and feathered tails sprouting from their lower backs, giving them the natural ability to fly. For a Valkyria, flying is nearly no different from walking or running, making them incredibly mobile creatures. For the rest of their physiology, Valkyrians stand at a modest 5’2 to 5’3 with rare exceptions, normally possessing hair/feather colors of black, white, and brown. Valkyrians also seem to naturally perform better at high, thin air altitudes, where normally humans would have difficulty breathing, making them right at home in the sky.
Population: 51 Million
Culture: For much of Avalia’s history, a strong divide between the nobility and the peasantry has existed. Between the ethnic origins of the Valkyrians and Humans to the infamous book “The Peoples of Law”, a strong sense of servitude and noble birthright had been enforced to appease the mighty Imperium that the held vassalage to. This all changed, however, with the rise of King Holfgar the VII, otherwise known as the “Iron King”. His radical changes in both power and economic structure has lead to a growing sense of self determination and hatred for the nobility. Even as the merchants coffers grew, they were still held by tradition to be subservient to even the poorest of the noble families, as was their noble blood. This too, seems to be changing, quietly, in the dark.
Religious and Other Beliefs: While many in this growing age of rationalism prefer to merely believe in the natural order of the world, some still speak of the ancient prophecies and traditions that swirl around the original peoples and the mysterious “King of the Skies”. Some call him a god, others merely think he was a powerful ruler of the time, but no one has yet known for sure what to make of it. Aside from that, various major religions are practice without much fuss for now.
Location/Territories: Dark Green
Climate: Fair temperate, experiencing warm summers and cold winters.
Military:
"Join Today! For Honor and Duty"
The entire military as a whole is headed by the “General Staff” with the Field Marshal at its head. From there it splits into the Avalian Army and Avalian Navy.
Within the Avalian Army there are two Corps, The Infantry Corps holding much of the artillery, infantry, and Winged Fusilier battalions and the Cavalry Corps which held Dragoons, light, and heavy cavalry battalions. These Corps hold within them various divisions and brigades. Of course, the most famous of which are the “Winged Fusiliers”. These brigades were formed during the Iron Kings reformations of the army alongside Field Marshal Adron. They’re purely made up of Valkyrians using their incredible mobility to their advantage. They wield often carbines, grenades, and pistols. They even use a unique pistol that was converted to launch grenades as pictured. These brigades are of higher quality than most, as Valkyrians also serve in the regular infantry battalions alongside human comrades.
In addition, the Army Corps has formed an experimental wing made up of scout aircraft and small lighter than air vessels for reconnaissance and harassment. This field is showing promise to the General Staff, so it is likely to be highly subjected to change.
The Avalian Navy is a luxury that the Kingdom has had a hard time affording. With potential land base enemies posing more of a threat, the naval arm acts more as a trade interdiction and coastal defense force, made of cruisers, destroyers, and even a few submarines. Some of the larger ships also host a platoon or two of Winged Fusiliers for commerce raiding and scouting.
Magic Prevalence/Usage: Magic was outright banned from the masses centuries ago and has remained so ever since. Only the Royal Cabal of Sorcerers are allowed to practice. Every year “Dousers” go through the cities and farms to find those who contain large magic potential, and then are whisked away to become incredibly powerful sorcerers who serve the nobility, in particular, the king. Thus, while powerful and skillful users exist, they are very few in number, and solely serve the king. When they were outright slaughtered, magic within the nation died with them. Perhaps with the vacuum and changing times, it may return.
History/ Background Info:
Where All Things Must Begin “Welcome the people of the sky, and they shall serve well.” -A common phrase found on artifacts of the region.
Much of the early history of the native Valkyrians to this land has been lost to time. What remains is mostly speculation, as recorded history of the region only begins after migratory human tribes began to settle the region, and consequently interact with them. Full integration was suspected to have occurred during the raider invasions of around 400 BCE. These invasions are to have supposedly created a deal among the two races, in which the more fortified human communities allowed shelter and safety so long as the peoples of the sky served them loyally . Many radicals point to these events as evidence for human superiority, but with recent trends and archeological digs, the evidence seems to suggest a far more symbiotic relationship than previously thought. Much is being rediscovered, as it was destroyed when the later kingdom was vassalized by the Imperium.
The Rise of a Kingdom “Those of noble blood, of noble mind, and of noble heart are the true heirs of this world!” -King Aaden Holfgar’s coronation speech.
The Kingdom of Avalia was created when a man only remembered as “The Sky’s King” had binded the small fiefdoms surrounding his land under his rule through marriage, blood, and war around 200 BCE. Though this kingdom would not last too long. Around 1700, the Yllendyr Imperium had begun its expansion. The noble families and King Adalwolf the Wise were given an ultimatum by the Imperium, to either become a loyal vassal or be completely folded into the Imperium itself at the end of a gun.
King Adalwolf the Wise agreed hastily, fearing the Sky’s King would “return” should their homeland be laid to waste. In an attempt to appease the Yllendyr Imperium, to prove the completely loyalty, and gain favor in the higher court, the noble families went about destroying Avalian, and more often than not, Valkyrian symbols of culture and pride. This drastic move, while upsetting to many of the peasant Valkyrians and Humans who lived under this rule, seemed to have worked perfectly, for the Kingdom of Avalia was able to retain its name and relative indepence so long as it served as a loyal vassal and never operate on its own outside of the Imperium. The Avalian Accords, as this became later formalized as, solidified this agreement and thus began the longer chapter of the Kingdom’s history. A vassal kingdom.
Centuries of being a part of this Imperium lead to a growing gap and disconnect from the peasantry and the nobility, particularly the Valkyrians, as the various families competed to gain favor with the high courts of the Royal Family. The Valkyrians and human peasantry began to become further agitated, and in response to the growing unrest, King Enar the III requested aid from the high courts of the Yllendyr Imperium. In response, a cabal of powerful sorcerers arrived, swearing loyalty to the crown and nobility. After a demonstration of their powerful magic, the masses became quite once more.
This was further emphasized when in the early 1700s, a book was published titled “The Peoples of Law” detailing the necessity of the nobility. The very survival of the kingdom, the peasants, and the Valkyrians depended on the continued leadership of their King and his rulers, less the great and powerful forces and evils of the world, raiding from the sea and invading from the land, would destroy us all.
The book became widespread and soon was taught to many dukes and duchesses, as well as preached to the common folk of the land. A mentality soon set in among many, that the nobility and their blood were of a special breed, a higher quality crop, then that of other lesser peoples. From noble to peasant, it was all sincerely believed for hundreds of years that this held sway. Having good harvests and generally staying out the major wars the Imperium waged seem to justify, validate this belief. However, as the century began to turn, so to did Avalia’s history, and culture.
A Man of Iron “One man always makes a difference. Sometimes it’s a small one. Other times, he tips a war.” -King Harold Holfgar the VII to his advisors upon promoting Field Marshal Adron
The Kingdom of Avalia had more or less stagnated under Imperium vassalage. Series of unimpressive kings and queens had lead Avalia to the edge of outright decline in the 18th century, but soon one of the most ambitious men of Avalia’s history would take power. King Harold Holfgar the VII was crowned on May 3rd, 1820 at the age of twenty five years. This was a man with an insatiable appetite for power, and was the first of many to begin turning the nation towards total independence. For the first time, instead of seeking favor from the courts of Imperium to achieve power, he sought to distance himself from it, to make it clear he was the one in charge, not the high court. Of course he was not public with this goal or idea, but began to make subtle changes to how the kingdom interacted with the Imperium.
First and foremost was the banning of the once treasured book “The Peoples of Law”. While it was seen significant, it was already falling out of favor with recent discoveries in the fields of science and biology, and merely served to encourage the nobility to seek favor with Imperium rather than the king himself. Secondly, in private, he ensured the total loyalty of the royal cabal of sorcerers to further secure his personal protection. Using them, he began to strong arm noble families into attending conferences, balls, and festivals hosted in the capital itself more often, all the while displaying his vast wealth to show who really ran the kingdom. Any who showed a hint of disloyalty was imprisoned while any who proved their loyalty gained favors and reward. Very soon he had much of the nobility behind himself.
Once he had his house in order, so to speak, he began to work upon the nation itself. A century of near total stagnation had originally left the Kingdom of Avalia behind in many fields, thus he sought to change that. He invited merchants and artisans onto his council and together they began to re-industrialize the kingdom. Factories went up, mines were dug, and rail laid. A complete rework of the tax system fostered a great deal of easily acquired credit that, after the “adjusting” of a few laws, made it so those of lower class could acquire far larger loans than originally allowed.
Soon private ventures were establish and a growing middle class began to form. While originally the noble families protested such moves, they soon grew quiet as their own coffers grew thanks to the booming economy and industry. King Holfgar even established an official “Royal Research Division” and injected his own funds into the University of Avalia to foster a more common form of education. These particular actions and his strong control over the nobility earned him his title “The Iron King”. While he never formally accepted this name, he certainly didn’t stop people from calling him such.
With his economy pointed firmly in the right direction and modernizing, he turned his gaze towards the military itself. Previous kings had done little in the way of modernizing, but had at least created a professional standing army years ago. In this army, only the nobility could rise high in the ranks. It was unheard of, and almost illegal for a commoner to even become an officer, let alone a captain. Thus, it was a place were many of the noble families simpled dumped their bastards, sons, and daughters who were not being groomed to take over the house. As a result, the commissioned based system of the Avalian military had also lead to further stagnation.
The Iron King sought to change this immediately, but he needed an example. An infallible man who demonstrated, no, commanded authority, regardless of his birth. That man was Robert Adron. Adron had entered the military at the very bottom, and through courageous valor in the new world, cunning, and quiet a few duels of honor, had risen through the ranks as high as captain. That seemed to have been as high as he could go, as a noble family conspired to prevent him from climbing any further as revenge for shooting their son’s ear off in a duel. After reading through the seemingly endless pile of recommendations, commendations from both peers and officers alike, the Iron King stepped in personally and resolved the matter. Acting as a sort of not-patreon-yet-totally-a-patreon, Adron was able to rise higher and higher until becoming Field Marsha himself in 1880. With this promotion, Adron went about further modernizing the military, completely banning the noble commission system, reforming conscription laws, and modernizing both the military tactics and logistical systems.
It seemed that the Iron King had found his strong man general, and was just about to finally begin plotting his endgame. . .
Where All Things Must End
On September 8th, 1888, King Holfgar the VII died due to a sudden heart failure. His one and only heir, now King Holfgar the VIII, was more interested in his women than in his country. The royal court practically seized power and began to undo much of the Iron King’s work. Many loudly protested, and none louder than Adron and his wife. They both accused, quiet openly, that the nobility would rather see Avalia outright absorbed into the Imperium than care for its citizens. The nobility, at the height of their power, thought to teach Adron like a attack dog why he was to obey the hand that fed him, not bite it.
On a warm, spring day in 1891, the nobility in quick succession with both the royal cabal and King’s Guard arrested, tried, and beheaded Adron’s wife while he was away inspecting a military post. He was mailed his wife’s head in a box. From then on, it seemed the old attack dog had learned its lesson with Adron quieting down.
Now, after 10 years of meticulous plotting and planning, Adron shall have his revenge.
An Avalian Mountain Watch soldier poses for a photo, Talnaberg, circa 1900
February 10th, 1901, Talnaberg
Sirens blared as men and women of the Mountain Watch moved into their positions. If there was any place ready for Vaurgemyr’s attack, it was the Mountain Watch of the ancient city of Talnaberg. The great guns of mountain bastions rose like ancient serpents awaken from their slumber. The old redoubts and castle fortifications had been only somewhat modernized, and the city itself at their center still had its long, black, sharply sloped walls surrounding it.
Since the times before the Imperium, the Mountain Watch had guarded the border against monster and man alike. They were created during the age of the Sky’s King, who had unified and formed Avalia proper through might and magic. Some say the old walls of the city carried ancient wards of magic to repel any would be magical creatures who assaulted it. Of course, their purpose was obvious.
To hold back the dragons.
So, as generations had done before, the men and women, Valkyrians and Humans, sharpened their blades and prepared to defend their homeland from enslaving menace.
Catarina Ossler, the fifty five year old Valkyrian, watched the preparations unfold in front of her. She was the current captain of the Talnaberg Mountain Watch Garrison and the de facto leader of the Mountain Watch. She had already sent her telegrams to the Field Marshal alerting him to the dragon’s slave armies movements. Spreading her old, brown gray wings, she suddenly took the sky, hovering above the main wall. Around her, she saw the domed defenses of the city. In older days, they covered musketeers, archers, and even Royal Cabal mages from attacks from above, while allowing them to fire. Now they held something even more destructive. Modern artillery. The city’s defense themselves were formidable in their own right, but all around her, hill forts and castles readied as well. Some had been modernized, while others…Catarina smirked, others would have battles straight out the tales of old.
“MOUNTAIN WATCH OF TALNABERG!” she bellowed through a crude megaphone. The men and women halted for a moment and stared. ”Vaurgemyr knows that they will have to break us in this city or lose the war. If we can stand up to them, all of Avalia may be free and the life of the nation may move forward into broad, sunlit mountainside. But if we fail, then the whole country, including humans, including Valkyrians, including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age made more sinister by their perversion of power. For long we have suffered the bellows of pain from below. For long we’ve heard the scraping of their chains below. They will not cast those shackles upon us! We are the Mountain Watch! We are Avalians! WE ARE FREE!” The cries and shouts from the men and women below her would have drowned out any artillery barrage. Catarina turned and faced the north, not bothered by the cold wind mountain wind that blew from it.
They were ready. ---
February 25th, 1901, somewhere in the mountains of Venris
Odert Wallin followed his Vaspen contingent into the dwarven complex. It had been a long and hard journey here, and not without some apprehension. He’d arrived by boat under a different flag, road a train into Venris. From there it had been nothing but a long hike, and Odert began to wonder of he’d packed properly. Regardless, he was here to make sure the two very different nations found common ground. Vaspen was a monarchy through and through in Avalia’s eyes, but they were also an enemy of the Imperium, and a old one at that. Thus Odert was sent as an ambassador for his country men to see if the new republic could work something out with this old monarchy.
Now before him sat the remnants of that monarchy and her advisers. Particularly of note was the old Vaspen general and several prominent political leaders. He was disappointed that the queen was not there, but nonetheless unsurprised.
“Gentlemen, I am Odert Wallin, acting ambassador of the Republic of Avalia, entrusted by my nation to ensure we both achieve our respective goals. Those goals are exactly why I am here. With the Imperium tearing itself apart between the two Emperors, our nations find themselves in strange positions. Thus far neither of us have declared any support for either Emperor and we do not seek to. We seek to deal with them as nations of their own right!” Odert paused for a moment, looking down. “It is no secret that my country has no love for the nobility. Adron has made that much obvious, but!” he shot up again, staring with strong conviction. “Vaspen knows tyranny better than anyone in this land. That is something we both share. Long did Avalia stagnate and nearly collapse under the Imperium’s puppets and long has Vaspen suffered likewise under their rule. This is no mere alliance of convenience, no, we share far to much in common then at first glance. So, when the time comes, for when we throw the Imperium out of our lands, shall we recognize this and be friends? Or let the Imperium and its second Dark Age swallow us whole? “
A portly man in a fine suit walked among the charcoal ruins of the port city. It had been five days since the Imperium’s navy had burned the city… two since the fires had been stopped. The sudden and horrific shelling had killed a great many in the city, destroying nearly 70% of the dockyards and related districts. Possibly worst of all, not only did Avalian citizens parish in the blaze, but Imperium refugees, Legion soldiers, and whoever else the fleet had merely left behind to meet their fate. The fine suited man frowned and kicked a piece of burnt wood from his path. This massacre had proven one thing to many, both within and outside of Avalia. Ecruir Vyalviur was a madman. A voice suddenly pulled the man from his thoughts.
“Gunner? I’m somewhat surprised to find you here.” Gunner glanced up, seeing his fellow council member, and rival, approach him. Niklos Eskil was a thin man with a sharp, sunken face that gave him a hard appearance. He was Gunner’s biggest political rival, now that all of the nobility had found themselves under the blade of Adron’s vengeance. Gunner scoffed.
Not all of them, apparently.
“Yes, well, the Tears of the Sky had a fairly large following here, so I thought I’d pay a visit and give my local branch here my condolences. We’re currently trying to clean up the harbor, get it at least serviceable, but a lot of ships burned in that fire too it seems.” Gunner said, gesturing the sorry harbor before them. Niklos gave a small nod. He gazed out over the harbor, his face somehow even harder than its normal appearance.
“We knew the consequences of our actions, certainly, but this… this is madness. I knew the Imperium cared little for its subjects, we all did, but this truly demonstrates how little. It shows that they don’t care to retake Avalia, bring her into the fold, or any of that sort. They just want to burn it to the ground.” Niklos said in a solemn tone. He turned back to face Gunner. “It at least burnt a hole in our upcoming election plans, didn’t it?”
Gunner snorted “Of course you’d be thinking of such things at a place like this. The plight of the common man surrounds you in its most dramatic form and you don’t seem to take much notice.” Gunner finished, chin held high. Niklos was suddenly in his face, merely inches away.
“Tell me Councilman Hampus, were you really out here to offer your sympathies, or merely sizing up how much union revenue the Tears lost here? Or should I ask how much that ridiculous costume of yours costs?” Niklos said a low whisper. Slowly, Gunner stepped back, taken back by the sudden move. Fury slowly replaced Gunner’s shocked expression, quickly stabbing his finger at Niklos.
“Dare say that again, and I will call you out! I care about the people under me, and when I get a letter from a Union head telling me that half my workers perished in the flames while the other half lost their homes and jobs, I act, Councilman Eskil, and I do it personally!” Gunner said angrily. He was about to continue when Niklos held up a hand.
“Good! Then you are a worthy rival. From what I had gathered on you, I thought your personality and motives were just as bad as your drinking habit and sense of taste. As it stands… I believe you. I’m here admittedly for a far more selfish reason.” Gunner’s fury suddenly abated and was replaced with confusion.
“And what is that?” Gunner asked slowly. Niklos gave a small, sad smile, and gestured to a spot not far down the street. It was a burnt pile of timber, not unlike everything else on this street.
“That, right there, was were I was born. I grew up in the fish market district of this city… It was here I saw the barbarism first hand when my Valkyrian friend was beaten to death by nobleman, right here in this street.” Niklos eyes seemed distant. “He’d ran out in front of a carriage by accident, spooking the horses and breaking a wheel spoke in the process. The duke had gotten out and beaten the poor boy. One swing after another as people merely kept their heads down and went about their business. It was here where my journey to free my friends and people from the shackles of serfdom and monarchy began.” He turned back to Gunner.
“We don’t agree with each other on a great many things. We both know that this upcoming election is going to shape Avalian politics for the rest of our history. But we are not monsters. Not like them.” Niklos held out a hand. Gunner stared for a moment, before hesitantly taking the offer. A mischievous grin spread across the large man’s round face.
“Don’t think that won’t stop me from whipping you in the elections, ya fish faced bastard.” Gunner said. Niklos gave an equally mean grin.
