The Roundabout

[VA Foghorn]

&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp The gentle swaying motion of the train car was starting to take it's toll. The rocking, combined with the hypnotizing effect of the telegraph poles flying by outside was making Foghorn's mind wander.&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "...are you okay, sir?"&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Foghorn's mind snapped back to attention. "Yeah. Where were we?" He quickly looked around the compartment, furnished in faded and worn red satin cloth, had not changed since he dozed off. His three remaining battalion commanders sat on the cushioned bench opposite him, pointing expectantly at a map on the table between them. Foghorn rubbed his eyes and looked at the spot where they were pointing.&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "We were saying that the disembarkation point is coming up, sir. The train will stop halfway along the TransAntican Railway and drop us off about 100 miles past the border of Mesoun."&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Foghorn's mind began to slowly return itself to the situation. He vaguely remembered something about leaving a battalion of Naval Infantrymen at Nafticon, boarding transports in the middle of the night, and sneaking into the port of Liminias. From there, he had apparently commandeered a few railroad cars, and was on his way into the fray.&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Right" said Foghorn after a few moments silence. "You know the plan from there, right?" He looked inquisitively at his officers.&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Could you go over it one more time, sir?"&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Fine. We're going to move through the forrest between Antica and Terre d'Riches, show up in a few days at Miska, then continue to roll up the Babkhan flank. We're supposed to get Army support from Phedodah and form a pincer movement, but I doubt Delphi will stop playing grab-ass long enough to mount an effective attack."&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Permission to speak freely, sir?" asked the most junior officer in the room.&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Granted."&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Sir, there's at least 25,000 Babkhan troops in that area, and we've got a little less than 1,500. Do you really think we have a chance of beating the Babkhans?"&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Foghorn looked into the officer's eyes. A resigned expression washed over his face. "Soldier, no one said anything about beating them."Summary: 500 elite NI troops on Nafticon, heavily entrenched in the bunker systems of the island. 1,500 en route to the Babkhan left flank via TransAntican Railway. ETA: 36 hours.

[VA Foghorn]

"Hand me your glass" demanded Foghorn. The captain next to him relinquished his telescope. Foghorn crawled up to the top of the hill and peered down over into the city of Miska. The sky overhead was filled with grey, dark clouds that threatened to rain on his little plan. He snapped the telescope open and began surveying the scene. The city, while walled and fortified in the traditional Babkhan way, appeared to be almost empty. Foghorn crawled back to his subordinate commanders, who were huddled around a map of the city. Foghorn pulled his coat tighter around him as he approached. "Gentlemen, we might be ableto pull this off. Gather 'round." The commanders kneeled down around the map. "How many in the city, sir?" "Scouts report 300 civilians, mabye 10 regulars." The commanders looked surprised. "The Babkhans are expecting to make a stand at Acre and Tyre, so they've pulled the forces out of this area to reenforce the choke point at Acre. But I still want to do this quickly and quietly. We move out in ten minutes." Foghorn got up and walked away towards the hill. He stopped at the bottom and looked up. The clouds were still gathering overhead, swirling like a witch's brew and bringing with it the promise of a cold and rainy day, definitely unseasonable for the area. Foghorn smiled to himself. "The show must go on." The Naval Infantry moved in on Miska twenty minutes later, overwhelming the garrison and taking the city without a single casualty. Foghorn walked through the main gate and down the main causeway, looking at the stone buildings to either side. He waved for his adjutant. "I want you to find the biggest building and set up headquarters there. Grab the mobile comms unit, a squad of infantrymen and the cook and get dinner ready. Make sure the men are well fed tonight." "Aye, sir." Foghorn strolled through the newly captured city for the next hour while the command post was established. He walked down the back alleys of the city, examioning the craftsmanship and skill that went into building the structures within the high walls. The buildings were obviously made to withstand a lot of punishment. However, the outer wall was in a state of disrepair. There were gaps in the wall at almost regular intervals, and one place where a stream trickled through and into the center of town. Foghorn walked into the command post. The building, which was intended to serve as the town hall, was sparcely lit and even more sparcely furnished. The main level accomidated a large room, presumably for town meetings, and then two smaller rooms of nondescript function. It was in one of these rooms that the officers had congregated. Foghorn strode through the door, swinging his overcoat onto a chair. "Comms? Any new traffic?" "Aye, sir. Octavius seems to have put out to sea, and is attempting to push his way into the bay." "Good. That'll give them something to worry about." Foghorn loosened his belt and slipped his sword off. He knew that in today's digital battlefield it was completely useless, but some traditions are hard to let go of. He propped it against his chair. "What about reenforcements?" "Kaiser Los II of Shireroth says that two units will be arriving within the next 48 hours, sir." "Wonderful. Then we'll wait for them to catch up. Somehow we always get to where we're supposed to be a little too fast..." Edited by: VA Foghorn  at: 8/15/05 14:31

[Osman Shahanshah]

Thomas Horatio Salem Fitzroy, 4th Earl of Chaddington surveyed the road ahead through his field glasses, away in the distance were the walls, minarets and church spires of Miska.Miska was by all accounts a quiet backwater city, a left over from waves of conquest that had flooded over the region. Founded by the Mullahs of a long forgotten theocracy, annexed by the terrible Marcellus von Grobe who scattered the armies of Bassaev and slaughtered six thousand Muslims outside the city in celebration of the victory of his Catholic and Mondesian Holy War. From the conquest of Sennar, Alukustan and Eblis, Marcellus, who called these places Camerica, Monlan and Saskberta, forged Outremer, ‘overseas’ the crusader state with its ironic title as a beacon to the exiled Mondesian nobility in Lotharia to return to their ancient homeland and lead the Mondesian people in a revolt against their foreign overlords, namely the Babkhans, who were the most inhumane and depraved of all the races ever to violate the Mondesian fatherland. These dark skinned foreigners were, to Marcellus and his followers, the various holy orders that had grown up around the worship of King Peter Little as a saint, an abomination in the sight of God from whom no crime could ever be unexpected. Accordingly Marcellus had been deeply hostile to the Babkhan occupation of Eastern Mondesia, the Terre d’Riches, and there came a point where the Babkhans could no longer tolerate the irredentist Mondesian forces on their frontier, considering the significant slave populations in the major cities and industrial centres of Eura such an example would be an intolerable and dangerous example to the toiling masses upon which Babkhan civilisation rested.Accordingly the sky filled with the old primitive Shaaqals, Jackals, the Osman-Horten ground attack fighter, which shredded Marcellus’ feudal host, and gave free range to the fedayeen to conduct a general slaughter of the militant Mondesian Christians. Fleeting Outremer collapsed in an orgy of violence and destruction. The good Earl hardly lamented this. Outremer at the height of its power had routinely raided the Terre d’Riches, and on one occasion those raids reached Chaddington. In that savage and senseless attack the crusaders heeded the cry of the Bishop of Mercia ‘Tarry not good sirs, strike out at once, strike all asunder, kill and do it without thought for the Holy Spirit of the Lord God will protect his own!’ The Earl had been a child at the time of the atrocity and had been carried in his mother’s arms from that city in terror as the buildings went up in flames and the streets ran red with blood. He felt no compassion towards the crusader citadel now occupied by the Anticans. The civilians inside would just have to pay the price for their liberation. “Those walls are in a shocking state of disrepair gentlemen.” He addressed his colleagues of 1st Regiment, a mechanised formation named in his honour. “Mark them well. They would provide us with an egress, were we so foolish to oblige the enemy.”A Babkhan liaison officer gave the Earl a dubious look “you mean to say we will not attack?”The Earl shook his head “Four thousand men attacking at least one if not two thousand. No it would be a reckless waste of life.”For some reason the words ‘reckless waste of life’ did not register with the Babkhan officer who merely shook his head in turn. The Earl understood that the Babkhans were prolifigate with human lives. The ridiculous suicide cult born out of the disastrous battle of Karaman was proof enough of that. Nonetheless the Babkhans were not entirely without merit. Landowners, such as the Earl, who cooperated with the occupation and supported the slave trade, made handsome profits, this acquiescence was even rewarded by the command of military forces and now, within sight of the city the Earl, set on his revenge, had Babkhan military equipment, five Shahanshahi Osmani multiple-rocket launchers and a further five Sexton self-propelled guns. Beyond them, in a screen towards Miska laid the two thousand men of King’s Own Grenadier’s protected by twenty Boragh armoured personnel carriers. “Gentlemen”, the Earl announced I have orders that prohibit entering the city. That is until the fly boys of the Fighting 11th (as the 11th Tactical Airforce was now popularly known). In the meantime theres is nothing to prohibit us from stirring the enemy up a little. Adjutant, ring up the sextons, give them an indirect fire order, grid reference… oh lets say the town hall.” Summary: 1st &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Earl of Chaddington's Regiment9th &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp The King's Royal Grenadiers& 5 sexton self propelled gunshave approached Miska, while the remaining units have spread out between Acre and Tyre.

[VA Foghorn]

It was getting into the late afternoon when everything was set up. The walls were being fortified and patrolled, and sniper scouts were already being dispatched to go have a look-see at the surrounding areas. Foghorn sat back in his chair in the larger room of the town hall, which had been converted into the officer's mess. He was busy enjoying a hand of cards with his junior officers (the junior officers were letting him win), and having some afternoon tea. He took a sip. "Ahh! A bit warm, don't you think?" He smacked his lips, trying to regain the feeling in his scalded tounge."Just a tad, sir" replied the officer across from him. Foghorn slapped down his hand. "Straight flush, boys!""That's wonderful, sir! Too bad we're playing we're playing Rummy, though."Foghorn, slightly peeved, took another sip from his tea. A shell exploded outside the window, and Foghorn found himself covered in hot tea. "Who gave the order to explode something during tea-time?!""No one, sir" replied the officers.The communications officer barged into the room. "Scouts report Babkhan artillery, sir!""Well that's just peachy. Tell the men to take cover in basements, storm shelters, et cetera. The guard on the walls will remain, and it will be relieved at regular intervals. Understood?" The last section was posed to the officers now running for shelter."Yes, sir!"Another shell exploded, this time knocking out a few windows. "I'll be sleeping in the basement if anyone needs me. As soon as the Shirerithians are in place, we'll be able to move out of this $hit-hole. Until then, just hold tight."Summary: Foghorn needs a new uniform.

[Osman Shahanshah]

"My lord, complements of the Havaldar, the Shahanshah Osmani are in position and ready to fire."Thomas Fitzroy, Earl of Chaddington raised his glass of sherry to the Sotvam who had appeared in his tent, secluded in the woods north of the battlelines facing enemy occupied Miska."Please inform the Havaldar that he has my permission to join the bombardment.""Sahib!"The Sotvam turned and retreated out of the entrance flap of the heavily camoflaged marque tent.The Earl took a sip of his sherry and raised his glass in turn to the Babkhan and indiginous officers who sat at the table with him. "Gentlemen, I give you today's fox.""Today's fox" came their unanimous reply.With that the gentlemen thus assembled began to gorge themselves on a 'light lunch' of peppered steak, trout, shoulder of mutton with oyster sauce, sausages boiled in wine and herbs, chicken in white sause, all accompanied by bowls of white rice cooked in the Babkhan style, Chelo Safeed.There was much convivial banter during the course of the meeting of the section commanders from the brigade, which had recently been reorganised as the Sennar Front to complement the main relief column which had branched of earlier to push down the narrow peninsular towards Acre which had itself been designated the Acre Front. The Osman Shahanshah was now based in Tyre with 'Tyreforce' a mobile reserve comprised of the Boraghs of the Lord of Richmond's Regiment and the Kapav MBT's of the 10th Regiment, the Royal Yeomanry. The Palastina relief force had also been allocated to the Earl's certain knowledge the professional Royal Tank Regiment, which had just reached Chaddinton from York and a regiment of Richmond's Gendarmes The Earl was recently promoted to Sepahbod as a special field commission from the Shah himself, and following the opening salvos on Miska he had much to be proud of. Captain Hastings of the King's Grenadiers was also in a jovial mood at that meeting, the bluff balding regiment officer had led a patrol on the first circuit of Miska confirming that the enemy presence was an isolated garrison. The captain had been rewarded with a robe of honour and 5000 gold dinars for his reconaissance."The Anticans, a funny sort, march all the way through the wilderness, just to capture a rotten borough like Miska. And now, I swear by jove we will confound them. Our guns and rockets shall keep them in that lair like a fox trapped in its set. Question is, when will we let our young terriers in to flush them out?" The Captain was bristling with confidence. No doubt he expected the Anticans to run were he on the of chance to say 'boo' to them. Others round the table were not so sanguine."There is a Razjanian proverb" spoke Jalal al-Din, the political officer sent by the colonial government to oversee the native forces, a man of quiet temprement but feared reputation on account of his rumoured association with the Komiteh Polis, "A Dehvazi, a Zjandarian and a Molivadian, go hunting in the hills. The trio spy a bear's cave and decide that this will be their catch. The Dehvazi sets a trap, the Molivadian builds a hide, the Zjandarian walks straight in, thinking to wrestle the bear and drag it out of the cave. Mortified, this comrades look on and for a while there is a great commotion in the cave where the snarls and groans of man and beast can be clearly heard locked in terrible combat. Then silence. An hour passes, and just as the men loose hope of ever seeing their Zjandarian friend again, the plucky cossack calls out from the cave. 'Comrades! I have caught the bear!' Excited and relieved the pair outside call back 'Bring it out into the open.' A few moments pass before the Zjandarian replies. 'Comrades, the bear won't let me.'"Captain Hasting's harumphed at the Komiteh man's tale. "What the devil do you mean by that Jalal? Tressian Red rotted your brain?"Jalal just nodded sagely, "That my friend is a risk one takes. Inshallah may I enjoy many more years of lucidity before the demon drink leads me to veil of tears. Yet let me assure you, my wits are still about me - and you" at this point he jabbed a finger across the table threateningly at Captain Hastings "you had better keep your wits about you as well my dear sayyid."To avoid an unpleasent situation at this juncture the good Earl interjected. "Just tell us the meaning of your parable Jalal.""Very well, al sayyid, the Anticans are like the bear, and we are the hunters. If we rush in we shall become our victims prey. Those Anticans inside Miska are not like our conscripts and mercenaries, out in the trenches and foxholes, they are Naval Infantry, an elite force. I have studied their war in the Red Antilles. They are determined and effective opponents, they would doubtless make excellent use of the city as a killing field..."Captain Hastings then interupted. "I too have read on the war in the Red Antilles, I found much to fault them upon - they gambled heavily on a lightning invasion of the North Antilles, relied too much on naval support, and stretched their support infrastructure to breaking point to project that force half way around the globe. The Naval Infantry and the Antican Armed Forces in general are extremely rash and only the incompitence of the Bolsheviks saved them from a humiliating defeat.""Nonetheless" Jalal retorted, "it was a famous victory for them. It established their reputation...""By God!" Cried out Hastings "a reputation is naught but smoke and mirrors, only the timid believe in reputation, the propaganda of our foes and the tittle tattle of gossiping idlers and cowards.""Gentlemen!" Cried out the Earl, "I agree with you both. Captain Hastings I believe that the Antican Naval Infantry, if it is they who have violated our borders, will be found wanting. However I agree with our friend and advisor Jalal that we would be fools to test the reputation of the Anticans on their terms. Once again I rule against an immediate assault. We shall siege Miska and take it when the time is right.""But my Lord", protested Captain Hastings, "we have barely four thousand men, nowhere near enough to surround a city. If we wait outside the city we will loose men to slow demoralising attrition. Already ten are dead from sniper fire, eleven are seriously ill with the Gravedo nebuli, and four have deserted..."The Earl smiled, "Harry," for that was Captain Hastings name, "have you forgotten where we are? The skies are dominated by our fighters and Norfolk is crippled as a supply base for the enemy, even then our forces can intercept supplies landed by the Shirerithians. Our forces hold the northern and eastern approaches to Miska and the remaining route of resupply for the Anticans is a long and arduous one through the wilderness where they can be subject to harrasment at any moment of our choosing. No the Anticans have two options, to attack our positions and silence our guns, or to evacuate the city and flee either into the wilderness or south to the beaches where they might hope that a passing Shirerithian transport might oblige and rescue them. Now please gentlemen, let us finish eating our lunch, and my complements to the chef."At that moment the first salvo of the Shahanshahi Osman multiple rocket launchers fired off with a freightful wail to pound the masonry of Miska some more.Summary: The artillery bombardment of Miska continues while the 'Sennar Front' fortifies its defensive positions north and east of Miska to block any Antican advance overland towards Tyre or Acre without there being a major battle.

[VA Foghorn]

"They WHAT!?" bellowed Foghorn."It looks like they're waiting for us to come out, sir!""I heard you the first damned time, soldier! What are their defences like?""They appear to be entrenching on the surrounding high ground. They've brought in some new artilery..." the basement shook violently with the latest explosions, shaking the dust out of the ancient masonry "...and some new regiments. An attack would be suicide.""Quartermaster!"The quartermaster jogged over to the table. "Aye?""What's our food situation?""The men were issued with five day's worth of MREs only yesterday, sir. We've chewed through everything else.""The tea, man! What about the tea!?""Oh. At your current rate of consumption, four days worth.""Then we wait four days for the Shirerithians. One can last a week without food, five days without water, but only 24 hours without a good cup of tea."The room resounded with another explosion outside. The solitary lightbulb hanging from the obligatory wire swayed back and forth, casting an eerie glow over the room. They waited, and prayed.

[extreme007]

(part 2 of 2)extreme007 watched as the firefighters got control of the burning wreck that was the C-130 transport of the Babkhan Air Force. The entire aircraft was now black in color and most of the surface was rusted black with some presence of melted body. extreme007 waited in the Shireton HQ building. He was waiting for a signal from the firefighting and the bomb squad teams who had gone ahead to ensure that no more bombs of any kind were waiting to explode.As he sat in the lounge, waiting for the signal, extreme007 quickly decided to get in contacts with the other commanders of different branches in the TDR region. He wanted to know in advance if any of them were going to require his air support. He didn't not want to waste time by waiting for his planes to get back like what happened when the Alexandrian commander requested air support. Not unless they were on an important mission. He wanted to make sure that he knew the next few hours and days worth of plans of the other commanders. He wanted to know this because another important mission was coming up immediately. It was the one he had planned and it required most of his aircrafts. The other aircrafts would not be available for support for any other forces, as he already had the new Shirerithian air unit to worry about. He had already ordered Ahmad to keep a few planes aside for defense against any attack from this enemy air unit, whose sole purpose was to challenge the 11th Air Force for the control of the skies. And extreme007 was not planning on giving it to them any time soon.A young cadet walked into the lounge and towards extreme007. He whispered in his ears that he was required at the War Room immediately. It had something to do with the strike on Miska. extreme007 quickly followed the cadet into the war room, where the communications officer called him over."Sir, York says that their Miska package in enroute. It should be over Chaddington soon.""Ah. Okay. Good. Keep me informed. Actually, get me York. Commodore Ahmad Arash.""Right away sir."Although Shireton was now a fully functional working airport, it had yet not developed into the one that was present at York. To be precise, the weather report station had not been operational, although the base developing officer had informed extreme007 that it would get that working in a day's time."Air Commodore Ahmad here.""Ahmad, this is extreme007. I would like to know the weather situation in the south for the next couple of hours. Preferably till the end of the tomorrow.""Be back to you with that information in a few minutes, sir."The three Ashavans, designated Thunder, flew down towards Tyre. Their flight plan was going to take them away from the Natopians as much as possible. It involved flying over the unending green wilderness to the East. The pilots of the 11th Air Force, during their free time, had talked about the successfull traversal through this wilderness by the elite Antican enemy. Although odd to talk about the enemy's success, Ahmad Arash had made it a habit of talking about the enemy's strengths and weakness with his pilots. This was one of the things taught to him by the talkative Ajay Singh Rathore, Ahmad's pilot and buddy in the stealth heist. The pilots of 11th Air Force did not want anyone to be successfull. This at times, like this Miska mission, made the pilots fly their planes off their flightplans at times into the wilderness to spot any other such enemy movements. Although when they did this during the bombing raid on Caerulea and Arahova, they recieved quite a strict treatment from Ahmad upon their return, but even that was only for official purpose. Everyone knew that Ahmad had unofficially wanted them to fly over. But for this mission, Ahmad had gone one step ahead. He had made their flight plan such that it would take them over the wilderness. It would satisfy's extreme007's requirement of flying away from the Natopians, while still observing enemy movements in the wilderness."Sir, Ahmad here with your requested information.""Go ahead Ahmad. extreme007 here.""Sir, weather station reports that its mainly warm to hot. No clouds in the sky. And some north-south wind to no wind at all. That's for the entire tomorrow as well.""Ah. Thank you Ahmad. Thats just what I wanted to hear. Could you send over half the planes to Shireton? I believe the time for our mission is coming soon within the next ten hours. I want to talk to the pilots about their mission as well.""Yes sir. You want me to come over? Perhaps, even fly the mission?""No Ahmad. Now I wouldn't want to make you more than a legend now, do I? Besides, who will run York if you leave?""Hahaha. Okay sir. York out."The young cadet who had earlied informed extreme007 about his presence required in the War Room, was soon informing extreme007 that the bomb squad team had given a green signal. extreme007 walked out of the airport building and sat in the jeep. The young cadet waited at the airport door. He was on duty and had to make sure he knew the exact whereabouts of his ACM. The driver of the jeep soon drove extreme007 towards the wrecked airplane. The fume of burning metal and oil was still present in the region. As they got closer, extreme007 could see the damage the bombs inflicted on the plane. It was aparent, that the bomb had managed to melt the outer surface and as extreme007 saw the inner surface of the aircraft, he knew why the research workers for the Karnalian Air Force had said to be extremely cautioned. They knew about the properties of the reaction inside the bomb and now extreme007 was seeing it as the proof. They were correct when they said that it had the capability to melt through metal. The inside of the aircraft was completly unidentifiable. It was as if metallic strings and fibres were hanging out and falling. It probably even looked like the Hanging Gardens, except there were no plants, only metals. extreme007 knew what he had just dropped on the Antican battlecruiser and what was in store for the rest of the enemy forces. He wondered how much damage it would do to the ground forces.Summary: (part 2)this post mainly carries how bad the incendiary device damages...also, the three planes are flying over the wilderness.. this to observe any enemy movements that occur in the wilderness... they are not to engage them (you need to tell me that you got troops there and i may engage them).although i havent mentioned the dropping of bombs on Miska, i'll let you (foghorn) post that i did drop them and that the planes are heading back.. in other words, i am actually dropping the bombs, though it went incident less as far as i am concerned, and thus not worth mentioning. Discover, Invent, Theories, Experiment,Advance Science,Advance Extremism,(in Karnali, Republic of)

[Osman Shahanshah]

(OOC, this post contains the assumption that Extreme's flyboys dropped something on Miska.)The Eastern Trench, Miska:For a few days the men of the Sennar Front had been digging trenches and machine guns placements before the tumbledown city of Miska whose walls, even before the bombardment, had never been in that good a condition. Now after couple of days under general bombardment there were several significant breaches. Obviously the Anticans had the most obvious storming points covered, but they could hardly be in the best shape whilst under such incessant shelling from the 25 pounders of the sextons. The sextons had other jobs beyond delivering hammer blows to the occupied city. The Grenadiers had suffered some casualties whilst stretching out reels of razorwire in front of their defensive emplacements. Whenever observers picked out a sniper or suspected sniper position a barrage was called down upon it"Havaldar." The Earl of Chaddington gentlely enquired after the commander of the Sennar Front's ample artillery train. "Now that our fly boys have been and done their thing perhaps it is time to resume the bombardment?"The Havaldar, a Mazdah worshipper from Bandar-e Bazagani, stroked his big black bushy beard and contemplated issuing the order."If we hit them while they try to put out the fires, the flames may burn out of control and level the city, Sahib."Thomas Fitzroy smiled inwardly at the fate of Chaddington those 40 years before was now being visited on a city of Outremer."Havaldar, whatever our feelings for the innocents and property inside Miska we must remember that our primary duty is to deny the enemy the use of the city as a base to support the Mango-Eaters in Acre. If we stoke such a fire so as to deny them the safety of a secure position we will in due course have broken the Antican Naval Infantry. Our fame and forture across the empire and commonwealth will know no bounds."The Havaldar smiled at the mention of a fortune."But what of the civilians?" Was the remark that passed from his lips in an attempt to conceal his greed form the Earl. He needn't have bothered. The Earl found the attempted subtifuge amusing."A Babkhan concerned for the well being of the innocent? Wonders will never cease. You need not worry Havaldar, whatever loot we may loose in the fire we will make up in the gifts and rewards of a grateful nation."The Havaldar smiled genially,"So that'll be white phosphorus shells then sahib?""If you would be so kind."

[VA Foghorn]

Foghorn looked at the blackened faces of his officers. They were tired from fighting the inferno that raged outside. "To the PRH with this" he said, "we're getting out of here. Quick evac, one squad at a time out the breach in the rear wall. Regroup at map reference..." he glanced at his field map "...Charlie Delta Seven. It should be dark within the next couple of minutes, so move out then. Quietly, men, quietly. And leave the heavy equipment behind. Just what you can carry,""Aye, sir" echoed throughout the stone basement. Foghorn gathered up his equipment and started for the door.SUMMARY: NI pulling out into forrest to the north of their current location. Approximately ten miles from the Babkhans, and three miles from the city.

[Osman Shahanshah]

(OOC: North? The Babkhan trench system covers the north and east. Perhaps you mean west?)

[VA Foghorn]

(OOC: Yeah, sorry about that. West. And setting up our own trenches. ETC 24 hours. )

[VA Foghorn]

The communications officer beckoned to Foghorn. "Sir, you've got to take a look at this."Foghorn walked over. Dawn was just breaking over the Terre d'Riches, but the wet, muddy forrest they were in was still freezing cold. He squatted by the communications officer, looked over the latest messages, and took a step back. "Bugler! Call for officers!"The shrill bugle cry rang out, and his officers appeared within a few minutes. "Take a knee, men." They all knelt."Octavius Me has resigned as Dinarch. And while this would normally mean next to nothing to our operations, aside from the fact that I would apparently succeed Octavius in the chain of command, Delphi ordered our own navy to fire on him. And that, gentlemen, is unacceptable. We're moving out in ten minutes.""Where to, sir?""Mount Arahova, Phedodah. Nafticon has it's CIC for the navy, and Arahova is the Army's version. We're going to quietly swing around the Babkhans and stop Delphi before it's too late.""But sir! Our objective was to take Terre!"A gleam sparkled in Foghorn's eye. "I told you we'd never win here."

[Nick Foghorn Leghorn]

[ooc]*Looks at title of thread. Giggles.*[/ooc]It had taken them 24 hours, but they had made it. They were at the Antican border. Foghorn ascended the final hill. In the valley below, a few houses sat on a dirt road. The Antican Naval hymn was playing in one of the houses, and the music was wafting over the valley. Foghorn rested against a tree. Delphi could be taken care of later. They had an obligation to fight off the Babkhans. Foghorn had promised Octavius that he would do his best, and he was running away."Bugler; Officers' call." The shrill call rang out in the evening air, and out of the bushes came the battalion officers. "We're going back in. The Babkhans have probably re-taken Miska, but they should now be focusing their efforts on Acre, where the Shirerithians are. So, we'll swing down from the North and take them from the rear. I want a skirmish line the entire way, understand? Three rows deep, 100 yards between lines. Go to."They dispersed. Foghorn gazed back into Antica, for what would be the last time.