"Sightseeing"

[Nick Foghorn Leghorn]

Somewhere over Brookshire

The drone of the engines was getting on his nerves. He had been stuck in this airplane for hours, even watched the sunset over the water just as they were crossing over Musica. But that had been hours ago, and the darkness had swallowed the flight of CV-7 airplanes. Only the occasional nav lights blinked, betraying their position. The men seated around him fiddled nervously with good luck charms and checked their equipment cumpulsively, anything to keep their minds off of what was about to happen.

The pilot turned around, "target coming up!"

A green light lit up at the far end of the airplane, and a man stood up and waived with his arms. "Stand up!"

In one fluid motion, every man in the aircraft stood and faced the rear. They didn't need the instructions, most of these men had cut their teeth jumping over the Red Antillean islands, and had done it many times more. The equipment changed slightly, but the uniforms were the same. Only, odd for Shirerithian militia, their flag patches were that of the Republic of Antica.

From the front of the airplane, the check began. Straps fastened, reserve chute on, XM 8 sharpshooter rifle, Colt SOCOM suppressed pistol, extra ammo, helmet, ready to go. The checks went back through the cabin, until they reached him. An M21 suppressed scoped rifle had replaced the old Moisin Nagant, but the old heavy calvalry sword was still strapped to his side. The man behind him smacked his helmet, he was all good. He smiled at the man at the door. This was going to be fun.

The light turned red, the door popped open, and he ran for the exit. A sudden blast of cold night air and he was freefalling towards Shirekeep. Around him, he saw all 1,000 Naval Infantrymen dropping at the same time. It was time to go sightseeing.

[Kaiser Mors V]

*With the sound of aircraft overhead AA spot lights all over the city turn on, and begin facing upwards, watching...waiting... tracking..*

[Braden Indianensis]

*Braden, disregarding the uproar it would cause (him being the leader of another sovereign state, officially at peace with the Imperial Republic), had decided to help the rebels. And why? Well, he really didn't have any satisfactory answer to that, other than the semi-acceptable notion that he was an Elder Guard of the order of the Vorpal Blade (oddly enough, having being created such in the wake of a failed democratic revolution) and was therefore duty-bound to protect whomever ruled the Barony of Vorpmadal, even though international law and treaty obligations were usually considered much more important than such questions of personal honor.

Nevertheless, there he stood in the midst of the dimly-lit square, waiting for Nick to touch down with the rest of the Naval Infantry, gazing furtively at the face of his pocket-watch as the appointed time for the rendez-vous drew nigh.*

[Kaiser Mors V]

A foreigner.... fighting against the Imperial Government...

That's not wise...

[Nick Foghorn Leghorn]

Foghorn landed on a small, side alley in Shirekeep with a satisfying "thud" like sound. He ripped off the chute and the few extraneous items strapped to his body, and slung the M21 over his shoulder.

He looked at his watch. "Goddamn, I'm late."

He walked out onto the deserted high street and was greeted by a handful of his soldiers similarly regrouping. "Good evening, Lieutenant Hipser. I trust the regrouping is going well?"

Hipser was still untangling his rifle from his chute. "Everyone is meeting at the rally point, they should be on their way. ETA, 5 minutes?"

Foghorn smiled. "We should be on our way, then."

Two streets over, in a darkened public square, a man waited impatiently. Foghorn strolled in nonchalantly, and walked up to him. "Hope you weren't waiting long."

"Just long enough to notice the snipers on the roof."

Foghorn glanced up. "Protection. Anyway, they're more worried about Dragons than you. Hell, the last time we were in mainland Shireroth..."

He rolled his eyes. "I know, I know, the mighty Naval Infantry dispatched its fair share of Dragons, and robbed an old man too if I remember correctly."

"well, you can see what I bring to the party. What do you have?"

[Kaiser Mors V]

From the Desk of the Ester of Shirekeep, and Kaiser of Shireroth.

Martial Law is hereby declared in the City of Shirekeep. All citizens without business are ordered to remain indoor for their protection. All individuals found roaming the streets without explanation, or with weapons will be immediately brought in for questioning. Those with explanation will be put under immediate escort and their information kept. Resisting arrest will be met with force if necessary, armed resistance may be met with deadly force for the safety of all security personnel.
All residents of the city taken into custody will be released within 24 hours, if armed their weapons will be confiscated until the end of this situation. Non-residents will be held till the end of this situation. The filing of charges may change when and if an individual is released. Foreign nationals taken into custody will also be held till the end of the situation, if armed they will be deported. Diplomatic immunity, or the filing of charges may change the above statement as applicable.


*street lights all over the city turn on illuminating all open squares, and road ways. All police are called to duty and sent out on patrol with orders to check-in every 15 minutes. Failure to check in resulting in immediate investigation as to why. K-9 and Falconer units are deployed.*

*All the while the Kaiser's personal guard and local military forces are put on alert. The doors to the keep are sealed. And troops stationed on the internal walls, and external walls of the city. Yet more troops are sent out to augment the police patrols. *

*Local militia reserves are activated and the local air fields put on alert. To prevent further aircraft incursion, armed, airborne patrols begin. *

*Troops from the neighboring country side are called in to set watch outside the city and be ready for orders to come into the city if needed.*

*Naval patrols of the river surrounding the city are intensified, and spot lights cast on the waters edge on both sides of the river. *

[Braden Indianensis]

"Not much," said Braden. "I understand that the sentries have been doubled, and air and naval patrols have commenced, so it's surprising to me that you even made it into the city all in one piece--or did you? The municipal police patrols have been augmented with soldiers, the local militia has been called out, and Raynor's Keep is on high alert. We're basically trapped in Shirekeep.
" I trust you're aware of the loyalties of the nobility: those loyal to the Kaiser have all been summoned to the defense of the city, and I don't know what help to expect from the rebels. The good news is, we've clearly arrived before the main force of the loyal nobles, but the bad news is we've also arrived before rebel partisans--those odds are steep, you must admit, even for the dragon-slaying Naval Infantrymen." He sighed, and and rested his forehead in his hand. Nick didn't seem phased.

"I don't know how I let you talk me into this--God Almighty!" the Speaker exclaimed, gesturing toward the snipers on the roof, "I've even let you bring along Antican soldiers, not that I could stop the Naval Infantry from following your orders. This whole thing could wreck our relations with Shireroth. Your plan had better work."

Nick grinned. "Oh, it will."

[Nick Foghorn Leghorn]

Foghorn walked briskly away from the square, leaving Braden in the cold. He turned to his aide. "Have the men spread out. We'll really at the specified coordinates in Northshire. Return fire only, do not actively engage any troops. Able company, on me."

The men scattered, and the roughest group of infantrymen to ever hit the streets fell in behind Foghorn, strolling casually up the main street. They'd be there in about an hour, but Foghorn was willing to take his time. His prey would have to leave its hole eventually...

[Maksym Hadjimehmetov]

The Baron was attending his the business of an afternoon as ruler of K'Tzuni, before a loud cheer from the square outside his residence awoke him from his slumber. Straightening his cap, he seized a rifle from under his desk and was about to aim the laser sight at the miscreants who had dared to disturb their Baron, before he realised it was his chief Cossack commander and the entire contingent of Brookshire Hamlet City Guards.
Before his secretary could question his motives for venturing out to the streets without his bodyguard, Maksym strode into the square and cracked the drunken commander straight on the nose with his fist. Dusting the blood from his gloves, he demanded an explanation for the afternoon's events. The crowd was silent, save for te commander, still giggling inanely lying on the stone cobbles of the square, pointing to the public TV screen with his flagon of brandy.
The Shirereithan News Station was announcing a breaking news report about the landing of paratroopers in Port Nevermore in all the languages of the Imperial Republic. Laqi, Hyperborean, Yardistani, Rantsilastani, English and God knows what else all said the same message- this was big.
Hadjimehmetov convened his council of advisors at once.

[Nick Foghorn Leghorn]

Foghorn glanced at his watch. Darkness would be his friend for only a few more hours, then his force would be betrayed by the coming dawn. If he was to accomplish his mission, he needed to move fast. The Kaiser had called up the reserve forces, but they wouldn't be on-line until the morning at the earliest, so all that remained were the usual palace guards, and they aren't exactly the "early to rise" type.

The stirrings of the dawn were beginning to be visible as the Naval Infantry made its way into eastern Northshire, yet not many people seemed to notice. The small force moved through the streets generally unmolested, using the same tactics they learned from their long trek through the jungles of Southern Antica. One by one, the company commanders emerged from the darkness under the model of the Great Catapult, the monument to Raynor II's idiocy.

Foghorn rubbed his hands to keep them warm as the last company commander walked into the square. "Glad to see you finally made it. You are the last one here, so therefore you're a rotten egg, and your leisure passes for your company have been revoked." The company commander looked none too pleased. This was common practice, but also the third time he had been the last one to arrive. "We're less than a mile from the Kaiser himself. But standing between us is a rather impressive looking wall, an untold number of supposedly well trained guards, and the confusing corridors of the Keep's government buildings."

One of the commanders spoke up. "Oh, is that all? I thought this was going to be difficult..."

A nervous laughter emerged from the crowd. Foghorn continued. "We're about halfway between the South and West gates into the Keep, which means the security should be at a minimum. And the Shirerithians have been kind enough to provide us with the means of entry." He gestured to the model behind him. "There are a bunch of these catapults around, mostly to entertain the tourists. Grab a few and put them to use stringing up the ladders. Once we've secured the parapet, one squad of sharpshooters and one company of riflemen will capture the East gate and secure our escape route, then provide covering fire. The rest of you will split up and start combing the Keep for the Kaiser, in case he's buggered off somewhere. Me, I'm taking my roughnecks and charging straight for his bedchamber. Questions?"

No one spoke up. No one ever did. Not that they were afraid, but that they already knew how it was going to work, they just needed to hear it from Foghorn. They had all served together since the unit was formed, and could predict each other's actions with semi-clairvoyant precision.

"Good" foghorn continued, "then head out. Ardashir should be here shortly to help keep the guards busy, but I'll be damned if he gets the Kaiser first. Same rules as before, return fire only, keep civilian casualties to a minimum." He turned to one particular commander. "No explosives this time Greg. Remember what happened to the Mondesians last time you tried that wall-breaching trick?" Greg nodded. "Then move out."

The commanders went their separate ways, one goal in mind: to capture a Kaiser.

[Jacobus Loki]

"The doomed dirigble continued its fall towards the city. Slot machines had fallen over, and a number of the troops/guests were stuffing their pockets with coins.

"The liquor was almost gone, and the dancing girls had donned fatigues and carried AK-47s. They seemed to be the few that were sober.

"Some of the lads had managed to form up on the bridge in quasi-military order, checking their crossbows, blunderbusses, flintlocks, clubs, swords, and disruptors. This was hampered by the comsumption of alcohol and the swaying of the doomed airship.

"Now a leaky airship does not make a lot of noise in itself, but the rattling of equipment, the sounds of wretching, and the general hubub of intoxicants attempting something military does draw attention.

"The dukes men begain an exchange of small arms fire as the airship
began to come to earth - on top of the Antican comand!

"Yardistan to the Kaiser!", slurred dozens. "Yardistan for Mors V!"
"For the Duke!"

"Hey", queried a go-go dancer turned sergeant, Where the heck did he go?"

http://shireroth.kuroshiro.net/forum/vi ... 024#p93024

[Aurangzeb Khan]

To His Excellency Braden Indianenensis, Speaker

After an unfortunate delay, which resulted from a cultural misunderstanding where your messenger took offence at some of our more quaint Elwynnese traditions and developed the erronious notion that he and his party were being robbed, we are in receipt of your note.

Incidentally with regard to the party escorting the messenger one did, I regret to say, suffer an unfortunate accident with a bayonet that was in the care on an inexperienced Rustayisarbazi militiaman. A minor slip, very unfortunate and entirely unforeseeable. Your man's condition, while not necessarily serious in relative terms, did necessitate medical evacuation to Ardashirshahr where he is now receiving the finest treatment available. His two comrades and your messenger elected to travel with him to Ardashirshahr to help keep his spirits up in what must be a difficult time. The militiaman has been appropriately disciplined and transfered to the Boreal Front. To compensate for the inconvenience this may cause to you I have dispatched with this letter six Rustayisarbazi for you to utilise in your operations as you may deem fit. There may be some language difficulties but they are perfectly biddable and their bomb belts can be remotely detonated in the event of any confusion.

Your position has been communicated to us and we can confirm that the Kampfgruppe shall shortly be in a position to support your successful breach of the enemy defences. All that we ask is that you continue to hold your position for another 24 hours then we will be in a position to assist.

Should you have the opportunity, attempt to seize the royal palaces and secure the person of the Kaiser. If not hold your ground and wait for our assault to come, ere the sun rises.



Elwynn Endures! Elwynn Prevails!

General Omar [Elwynnbrigaden]
OC South Elwynn Front
South Elwynn Front Headquarters Mirewood

[Aurangzeb Khan]

During the recent lull in the fighting the Elwynnbrigaden had made good use of the respite to bring forward the six Farzan self-propelled guns that had hitherto been guarding the Mirewood bridgehead. Reinforced by the SPGs and also the company strength Goruhân Zurvan the Kampfgruppe, now under the command of General Omar, moved forward to cut the Shirelands Line

At 2243hrs the order came through to commence a steady indirect fire upon the east gate of Raynor's Keep. Within a minute of the order being received the first salvo was hurtling through the skies towards their intended targets.



Now it is all well and good instructing essentially Babkhan trained artillierists to hit a specific point, the spotters and intel chaps might even give them a specific grid reference... and yet they some how never quite manage to be as precise as they intended. Azimuth was a hard task master for the Babki gunners. Of course a decree of inprecision was to be expected from indirect fire - it being the nature of the beast. Sure enough of the original six rounds discharged only two HE shells fell true in relative proximity to the east tower. Forward observers, including the luckless and demoted Ali Mustafa, who busily recorded the fall of shot from a particularly exposed watertower in Northshire, reported back that it would seem that the masonry of the gate tower had been struck but they could not confirm this as the target very swiftly became covered in smoke and even their night imaging equipment could not adequately penetrate that mirk.


Another shell was presumed to have hit the central keep whilst another struck the middle of the Triple Towers causing, it seemed, some superficial damage to the superstructure.

The other two rounds fell astray, hitting the Old City and Raynor Village, causing fires to break out in both places which spread swiftly owing to the combustable nature of the building materials used in the densely packed warren of old timber-framed houses.

At 2309hrs the order was given to fire another salvo. Five rounds of high explosive fell again in proximity to the ate. Unfortunately smoke rising from Raynor Village made it difficult to determine the extent to which any damage had been caused. A round was also fired into the Lukedu Center for the Exploding Arts in the hope of causing an explosion. None were reported however.



At 2330hrs the order was given to the Kampfgruppe to withdraw to its previous positions.

[Aurangzeb Khan]

Sections Five and Six of Goruhân Zurvan have moved to secure St. Zor Station and the bridge over the East Elwynn River. Orders have been given to avoid any unnecessary casualties but to crush any attempted resistance without mercy.

[Braden Indianensis]

Braden looked up with a start from the dispatch he'd recieved from General Omar, as the sound of explosions rang out some distance from his ad hoc headquarters. He dashed to the grimy window of the dining-room-turned-command-post, and observed through its broken panes the inferno which now devoured even the more distant sections of the Old City [correction, I had originally written "Raynor's Keep"]. Braden turned to the Rustayisarbazi who stood attentively about the room.

"Surely the Kaiser isn't firing upon us!" he exclaimed. "Why, the collateral damage is insane--is he that eager to hold onto his throne?" The leader of the small contingent of Rustayisarbazi (as well as the only one that spoke any Standard) shook his head.

"I'm sure he is, but that's not coming from the Keep. I'm afraid the fire was caused by some of our longer-range missiles--most likely, they're conducting non-direct fire, and its affects are rather like releasing a mad bull into a china-shop."

"Then the assault on Raynor's Keep has begun," summised the Speaker. He crossed his arms pensively, and turned to his terrified radio operator, who had hitherto been hidden behind the tall, black-clothed forms of the Rustayisarbazi. "Contact Commander Foghorn--he must be made aware of this." The radio operator attempted, but shook his head.

"I can't reach him, Sir: the fire's probably interrupted our signal." The Speaker let out an exasperated sigh.

"Then kindly contact General Omar, and please ask if he might direct his assault away from our coordinates." The radio operator did so, and Braden turned back to the Rustayisarbazi. "In the meantime, I should like to contain that fire. The most efficient method would be to destroy all the houses in about a two-block radius." This was the sort of work these men enjoyed. "I'll send some men to help you out with evacuations."
------------------------------------------------------------

Foghorn's bayonet ran through the Shirithian soldier's chest like a knife through butter. The man fell dead, and Nick removed it with a foot on the man's chest. The large corner turret had been taken, and its large gun was now in the possession of the Anticans. The portion of the wall east of the turret had been made impassible, the gun in the turret having been used to blast the walkway and battlements off of it, leaving only jagged stone and crumbling mortar. To the west of the tower, however, the fighting was fiece: the Anticans were well-trained, but the Shirithians were legion. The battlements had become a bottleneck, as neither side could prevail against the other. Several Anticans lay dead around Foghorn, and the bodies of Shirithians were strewn about precariously. Foghorn's forehead was bleeding rather badly. Various parts of the castle were aflame as the turret-gun blasted away bits of masonry, and Antican grenades (those that could be spared), were flung at the interior defensive wall.

Just then, a high-pitched, whistling noise was heard. It was louder even than the din of battle, and distracted all of those concerned. It was a missile, and it crashed into the midst of the Shirithians, killing a great deal of them. Those not immediately killed by that missile were swept away by the second and third, until the curtain wall beneath them crumbled and the retreat was sounded. Many of the provincial militia were confused and ran in whatever direction seemed convenient; these were mown down. Foghorn called for the Anticans to pull back, as a few of them were killed in the rush; he then ordered a green flare to be fired, so as to warn the Elwynnese that the Anticans weere prepapring to assault the keep. A few explosions later, the signal registered, and the firing stopped.

Foghorn let out a cry, which was taken up by the whole mass of the Naval Infantry. They began their charge, stumbling down the rubble of the exterior wall. The better-disciplined Imperial Guards made a last valiant stand on the interior wall, but the Anticans overwhelmed them and forced the gate. The Anticans spilled into the interior courtyard, where many were killed by machine guns mounted behind barbed wire.But the charge was far too emphatic to be delayed by this. The first few embankments of machine guns were captured, and turned against the others, and then against the palace itself, whose keep would be a hard nut to crack.A red flare was sent up, an the Elwynnese resumed their assault, this time being careful to avoid killing Antican soldiers.

[Kaiser Mors V]

Anyone else noticing that I'm not even participating in this? And in fact plan to ignore whatever "outcome" you make up...

[benkern]

No one has noticed that, Your Niftiness. Now silence please while we "win".

[Liam conToketi]

Anyone else noticing that I'm not even participating in this? And in fact plan to ignore whatever "outcome" you make up...

Now that's how to be an absolute monarch!

[Braden Indianensis]

Of course we don't seriously mean to replace you. It's all just for shits and giggles.

[Prodigy Almighty]

What is going on? Who's side am I on?! I thought I would be participating in this by now! BUT I'M TOO CONFUSED!

[Nick Foghorn Leghorn]

[OOC]

What is going on? Who's side am I on?! I thought I would be participating in this by now! BUT I'M TOO CONFUSED!

*gets impatient*

Quiet down newbie and watch how the pros play. Then maybe you won't drag your feet in the next war.[/OOC]

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

Foghorn looked at the smoking ruble that now comprised the west wing of the government buildings. He sighed under his breath. "I told those goddamned Babkhans, the EAST gate! This is the West Gate! Oh well." He beckoned to his radio operator. "Get in touch with Ardy, ask him to kindly remember that East is on the right side of the map."

"Aye, sir!"

He watched as a company of riflemen, surrounding a couple sharpshooters, made its way south, planning to skim the perimeter and capture the East gate, hopefully after the artillery attack. He also watched as his company commanders started their search into the rubble, making their way through the unpopulated outer buildings and into the main corridors, combing for any sign of the Kaiser.

He hefted his M21 onto his shoulder, making sure the scope cover was firmly in place, and started through the rubble towards the highest tower in the Keep, where the Kaiser was most likely to be hiding, cowering in fear. He dwelled on that image of the Kaiser for a few seconds, then kept picking his way up the rubble.

------

The corridors of the government buildings looked old, yet well preserved. The old oil lamps were replaced with gas lamps, which were in turn replaced with electric ones. One could clearly see the reservoirs, the hoses, and the new light bulbs in each chandelier. They walked briskly through the halls, meeting no resistance whatsoever. Every once in a while, a shot would ring out from somewhere nearby, but never an extended exchange of gunfire. Probably his men shooting the locks off doors to get in them.

The windows cast an eerie shadow on the darkened hallways, and an almost plaid pattern emerged on the carpet, reflecting off the mirrors lining the walls. The group of men walked straight down the hallways, tracking ever closer to the Keep itself. Handy directional placards, placed to keep visitors from getting lost, led the way.

After a few minutes, they eventually arrived at the door to the keep. A heavy wooden door, it looked like it was original. Or at least a good enough replica to fool Foghorn's eyes. He gave the signal, open and clear, and three men jumped in front to perform the task. He would have liked to blast the door open, but preserving as much of the buildings as possible was high on his priority list.

The old door creaked open, revealing a winding staircase. The men ascended, checking every corner, watching for any movement, but none came. No guards, no booby traps, no nothing. Foghorn grew suspicious.

The stairs ended rather abruptly at the top floor, the Kaiser's actual office. The only light entering the room was from the gigantic window behind the Kaiser's desk, throwing his monstrous chair into black shadow. Foghorn approached cautiously, silenced pistol drawn. The boards underneath him creaked. Surely the Kaiser must be behind that chair, he reasoned, waiting for him to come, waiting to spring some evil trap. He edged closer, now making out clearly the back of the chair, its red leather gleaming in the fires of the burning buildings down below.

He reached for the chair and spun it around, forcing the pistol into the face of whatever was to come. But nothing was there.

His men watched as, silhouetted by the light from the fires below, Foghorn reached into the chair and grabbed a piece of paper that was laying there. Just at that moment, the Babkhan artillery opened up again, this time on the correct target. The percussion shattered the window, and the falling shells could be seen and heard easily. Foghorn stared at the paper intently for a few seconds, then turned to the window and let the paper fall from his hand and into the maelstrom below. "Sergent" he called, "strike the Shirerithian standard from the flagpole and run our colors up the pole. And radio the other teams, we won't need that escape route after all. Have them rendez-vous in the building below, and I want to see all company commanders here, now."

------

The company commanders, their faces blackened by the action, stood around Foghorn as he sat in the big red Kaiser's chair. At last, he spoke. "Gentlemen, the Kaiser, being the coward he is, has run off, and left us the Keep. And I see no reason to let a perfectly good capitol go to waste. Let's set up CP here, a perimeter guard, and sharpshooters at earshot distance around the wall. And someone please find a way to close that bloody gap in the wall. We will be reinforced in the morning, and until then, we sit tight. Questions? Good. Off with you then."

The company commanders left, as Foghorn sat in the chair, contemplating the note the Kaiser left for him.

Dearest Count Foghorn,

I am pleased you made it. But you must understand that whatever you do, it makes no difference. Nothing you can ever do will keep me from maintaining my crown. Resistance, as they say, is futile.

I'm off to appropriate some rays, enjoy your stay in my office. But don't get too comfortable just yet.

Sincerely,

He twirled his pistol in his hand, obsessively cocking and safeing the gun, pondering what exactly he meant by "appropriate some rays".

And the sun rose on Shirekeep.

[Aurangzeb Khan]

FROM:
GENERAL HEADQUARTERS
EAST ELWYNN FRONT
ISLUS

TO:
HEADQUARTERS
SOUTH ELWYNN FRONT
MIREWOOD

GENERAL OMAR - RADIO TRAFFIC OUT OF SHIREKEEP NOTIFYING KHAN THAT "EAST IS ON THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE MAP" - SUGGEST THIS MESSAGE RELATES TO BOMBARDMENT CONDUCTED ON PRECEEDING DAY - STUPID ERROR - KHAN DENIES RESPONSIBILITY - FIND SCAPECOATS - EXECUTE IMMEDIATELY - ALSO - PLEASE CORRECT THE FALL OF YOUR SHOT ACCORDINGLY - STOP

[Aurangzeb Khan]

"Idiots." Muttered General Omar to no one in particular. The general had been sitting in his command tent having hitherto been sharing a bottle of Treesian Red with his 'field wife' a nurse he had borrowed/kidnapped from the first aid post beckoned to her to leave, which she did - taking the bottle with her as she stood up unsteadily on her feet and wobbled towards the open flap of the tent.

The General was about to shout after her to bring the bottle back but paused instead to scratch an unfortunate itch in his beard, praying it wasn't lice, surely to Zurvan they had not been in the field long enough to be getting lice. It could of course have been crabs but he didn't really want to think about how he might have got crabs in his beard. By the time the itching had subsided the nurse was long gone. The General thought about going to his foot locker to get another bottle but instead decided to re-read the radio-telegram from the Khan.

It seemed that a breakdown in communications had resulted in a friendly fire incident. The General suspected that someone in the Khan's retinue, possibly the Khan himself, had forgotten how to read a map. The last semblance of intellect doubtless drained by gluttony of some other debauchery he thought resentfully - wondering at the Khan disporting himself at the "General Headquarters" in Islus whilst he was down in Mirewood worrying about nits. The necessary corrections had been made to ensure that the shells and rockets were now falling in more or less the area originally specified, cock up averted.

Now to find a scapecoat to save the Khan's blushes. The General mulled it over, obviously he could not hand over himself that would never do. Colonel Rundunkin, he of the flammable breath, was another contender, no one would miss an incompetent drunk when there were so many of them around. No that would be impossible, if the news got out that people were being executed merely on grounds of gross-incompetence the entire fabric of the Babki bureaucratic state in Lesser Zjandaria would collapse. General Omar didn't particularly fancy that option, which really only left the junior officers. It would of course be quite possible to shoot the commander of the artillery battery but in fairness he had done a reasonable job in carrying out his instructions to the best of his ability. No it would not do to punish him. What about the forward observers... then it hit him. Of course! Ali Mustafa! Ali certainly had a blotted copy book - he had been responsible for misidentifying the Yardistani blimp and its subsequent downing. There was the murdered clerk as well. A former SAVAK agent, he was bound to have skeletons in his cupboard, who would notice if misdirecting the artillery was included on the charge sheet?

Silently, he sat down to pen a curt note ordering the arrest and immediate execution of Ali Mustafa for crimes against the people. He passed it to a lieutenant, who had thoughtfully fetched another bottle of Treesian Red from the General's foot locker. The lieutenant saluted and impassively read the letter, only fleetingly, before folding it in half and passing it to a sergeant standing by the entrance flap. The lieutenant whispered something in the sergeant's ear and passed him a pistol. The sergeant took the pistol in his left and and saluted the lieutenant who replied in kind. With that the sergeant stepped out of the tent to find Ali Mustafa and carry out his orders. The General uncorked the bottle. War after all was a stressful business and the commander always had need of his comforts.

Now all he needed was to hear that St. Zor Station and the bridge to the docklands had been secured.

[Bayen]

[OOC]

What is going on? Who's side am I on?! I thought I would be participating in this by now! BUT I'M TOO CONFUSED!

*gets impatient*

Quiet down newbie and watch how the pros play. Then maybe you won't drag your feet in the next war.[/OOC]

Annoying geneticists with massive forces of half-bear Elite Guards at his command isn't typically the best idea... just saying...

and does anyone mind if we use magic?

[Nick Foghorn Leghorn]

[OOC]

[OOC]

What is going on? Who's side am I on?! I thought I would be participating in this by now! BUT I'M TOO CONFUSED!

*gets impatient*

Quiet down newbie and watch how the pros play. Then maybe you won't drag your feet in the next war.[/OOC]

Annoying geneticists with massive forces of half-bear Elite Guards at his command isn't typically the best idea... just saying...

and does anyone mind if we use magic?

Yeah, sure, just don't be a prick with it. [/OOC]

[Aurangzeb Khan]

GENERAL ORDER No.1
7 Dey 1386

All personnel of the Kampfgruppen associated with the South Elwynn Front are with immediate effect granted a 48 hour furlough for the purpose of rapine looting, pillaging and other wholesome activities within the city boundaries of Shirekeep in celebration of the Count of Norfolk's notable feat of arms and victory.

[-x-]

Ardashir Khan
Khan of Vijayanagara
Count of Lesser Zjandaria
Amir of the Police and Militia

[Bayen]

Bayen was impressed. Whenever a war showed up, he always tried to bring in his magic buddies, but for some reason, they never were able to get through. Somehow, though, they managed to get into Shireroth without a hitch. Amazing.

Now on to business. He had just gotten back from an expedition to an alternate dimension to facilitate the destruction of a dark artifact picked up during a dramatic war with invading Demons, and was slightly tired. Time to get some sleep, put a few hyperlinks onto the post so people wouldn't get confused by his multiple references, and have a fresh start in the morning. He reached out to turn out the light, grinned to himself, then put his hand back down, instead snapping his fingers. The light went out.

[Prodigy Almighty]

OOC:

Quiet down newbie and watch how the pros play. Then maybe you won't drag your feet in the next war.

Still your tongue, fool, or you'll be eating IV for the next few weeks...

[Braden Indianensis]

[OOC]

Shit. I wrote a huge post, and then Shireroth decided I was improperly logged-in, and now that material is completely lost. Shit. It took me several hours.

[/OOC]

[benkern]

ooc:

Always, always, ALWAYS copy and paste before you post anything over 100 words.

Shame though.