Shireroth

Overlooking Tala from its perch on the bluffs of Yaanek, the Vanamion Rhavakal, Fortress of the Paladins, is suddenly very busy.

In olden days, before Nehani Eiserdion reformed the government, it would have been the Nine who declared war and who agonized over tactics and strategies. Nowadays, the whole matter was handled by the Priests of Joy in the blocky Vanamion Kuai, a few hundred meters to the east. They had said what everyone had expected: that a Raikoth subservient to the Butcher of Amity was completely unacceptable, a dark cancer spreading through and darkening the subtle currents of joy hitherto flowing unimpeded through the n-dimensional mental spaces on which they performed their calculations. A complicated and thoroughly scientific procedure, but one that only confirmed the words of the ancient mountain oracle who had recently prophecied doom for them all.

And now it was their turn, up in the Vanamion Rhavakal, to decide how the war would be fought. For something so specific and human, all the instruments of the new regime failed but one: the Latter Oracle, the system of interconnected computerized prediction markets aggregating the knowledge and conjecture of the Raikothlin people. And the Latter Oracle, despite all its tweaks and upgrades, was giving woefully inconsistent advice. That left standard human wisdom 1.0.

The Latter Oracle had spit out a list of twelve Raikothlin qualified to make military decisions, and eleven of the twelve had been convinced to gather together in this room. With them was Niveni Kalirion, the prince, still trying to justify his existence as a sort of functional figurehead. Kaure Ansonion and Tevri Andomakion, two of the Nine, accompanied her. Zachariah Rbailei, a Yardistan colonel, was there representing their southern allies. A small cadre of priests and priestesses brought up the rear.

"Let's begin," said Tevri, who like many of the Nine had become an adept in the Dark Arts of leadership. Niveni gave a slight nod, confirming his authority. A map lit up with various glyphs and dots. "We have Yardistan, Hyperborea, and Monty Crisco. Maybe a few other places, but we're not sure. They have Brookshire, Goldshire, Kildare, and maybe whatever parts of Elwynn aren't covered in giant spiderwebs at the moment. The first thing we need to do is establish a functional high command, so we're not duplicating everything three times in Tala, Novi Nigrad, and Monty Crisco. We've agreed to place general command in the hands of Duke Russell. That doesn't mean we're going to let him control everything, of course."

A Priest of Joy spoke up. "Defending the homeland is our top priority right now. Our forces are not strong enough to significantly affect any battles that may occur to the south, and of course our ice ships aren't going to hold up in that climate. The currents say we should let Yardistan mostly take care of itself, except in areas where we're uniquely qualified to help. The Star Nebulae, for example."

"Ah, yes," said Darune Osonaion, one of the military experts the Latter Oracle had suggested. "Please fill us in on that particular plan."

A man in the back came forward, responding to Niveni's nod. "Truth warm. I am Koli Resetion, head of the Raikothlin half of the Star Nebulae project. About ten years ago, we agreed to a joint fighter development program with JASO. The Latter Oracle believed that our Niphiltiyyin class fighters were insufficient for a modern military role. The first consignment of twenty four fighters just arrived from Nova Kajar recently. Will they be able to fight off the Shirerithian Air Force? No. Will they be able to make sure MINERVA and the ISI don't give us any nasty surprises? I think they will. If the Khan threatens Yardistan from space, we'll be able to make him wish he hadn't. Anything more down-to-earth, and I'm afraid they're just standard planes. I've emailed the technical specifications to everyone in this room."

Darune closed her eyes for a while, as if in meditation. All of the other military experts watched her, a little intimidated. The Paladins hadn't explicitly mentioned that she was the Latter Oracle's number one choice, but word of these things gets out.

"What about the colonies?" asked Niveni. "Are we going to defend them, or shift all resources to Raikoth proper?"

Moti Anesrion, another of the military experts, spoke: "Baron Harald seems amenable to the Khan's rule. Our influence in Cimmeria was never great anyway. I say we make a feint here, make Shirekeep divert its resources to that area, but in the end don't waste any lives defending it. Bjorngard is far away from us, but it's equally far away from Shirekeep and Ardashirshahr. It really depends on the Amokolians. If we can get the Amokolians to deny the Khan transport through their land and territorial waters, it can hold out indefiniitely with only a small guard detachment. I say we go for it."

Heads around the table nodded.

"As for Raikoth itself, we'll hopefully be safe until springtime. The seas around the island have already almost frozen solid."

"Doesn't the Imperial Navy have icebreakers?" asked Niveni.

"They're all on strike. They got all riled up because of something about ending international caps lock day early."

"How curious," Niveni said.

Three of the other military experts handed a document to Niveni. Kalauri spoke. "This is our plan for immediate defense of the isle," he said. "We want Queen of Night and Concentric Circles out of harbor before it gets frozen over, but have them lay low for the present. Appear to contest any attempt to take Cimmeria, but give in before it gets rough. Fight to the death against any attempt to use icebreakers. As for aerial attacks, those will be inevitable. We'll set up as much anti-air defense as we can, and let the Star Nebulae and the Niphiltiyyinal take care of the rest."

"Make it so," said Niveni, as regally as he could manage.

"Hey!" said Zachariah Rbailei. "We'd like a few of you to come to Yardistan. We're setting up a rebel command center in the Temple of Dionysus there. We need a few Hyperboreans to represent you guys and to report back here."

"I'll go," said Niveni, immediately. It sounded royal, and most of all, it freed him from having to continuously sit around Tala and do prince-type things.

"You're needed here," said Tevri. "You need to stand as a symbol of Raikothlin unity during those difficult times. I'll go instead. And We'll take two of the Oracle's military experts." He scanned the room.

All the military experts looked at their shoes. Over millennia, Raikothlin had adjusted both biologically and culturally to the cold. A journey to the tropical regions not only left them miserable, it left them sunburnt in a way most people can only have nightmares about. The histories said Kalir Sethan had managed to go on a voyage of exploration in the depths of Babkha, a voyage that resulted in the destruction of the legendary Alternate Reality Gate that could have ensured Babkhan dominance over the whole world, but not too many Raikothlin were willing to repeat his ordeal.

"I'll do it." It was Darune Osonaion. "And he'll do it, too." She pointed to Kalauri. "His plan is a good one, and we need someone who knows every little detail of our defensive strategy there."

Kalauri groaned, but not not audibly protest.

"We better get going," said Zachariah. "The Khan hasn't started shooting yet, and I want to get myself and your representatives safely in Yardistan before he does. I'm leaving the secret rebel codes and ciphers here. Anything else that's got to get to Yardistan after about next week, probably had better do so either by space-plane or submarine."

"I concur with that assessment," said Moti, who had been performing calculating on his laptop.

"No way you're wasting one of our space-planes," said Koli. "Better get going."

Summary: Several Hyperborean representatives proceed to the new rebel command center being established in the Temple of Dionysus, Yardistan.

OOC: Warning, this post contains graphic violence and language. Just FYI.




“GRENADE!”

An explosion touched down not more than twenty feet away.

“Watch that crossfire!”

Somewhere, a machine gun fired.

“Oh gods, he's hit, someone get a medic! SOMEONE GET A MEDIC!”

Gman Russell had taken cover down in a pillbox they had dug not three hours before. Beside him was his radio man, and three other marines. They were all a swarm of activity. The nearest marine was reloading his BAR, while the other two were exchanging fire with the enemy. His radio man was screaming over the roar of battle, hollering for reinforcements. Gman didn't know where he was exactly, but it was a city. Downtown by the looks of things. He thought it was near the coast, but his mind was numb with battle, and he couldn't remember clearly. They had not expected the enemy to be so well prepared for them. In a matter of hours, the Coalition Armed Forces forward command center had been overrun, and now they were all scattered, trying to make it back to the docks.

Yeah. They were near an ocean. Or a river? They were retreating to Yardistan. What city was this though?

“GRENADE!”

Gman frantically looked around for the source of the shriek. Before he could locate it, another explosion lit up the car next to them, sending metal and glass shrapnel everywhere. He was already crouched, so he clenched his teeth and curled into a tighter ball. Seconds passed, and when he finally looked back up, he found that he was unharmed. He got lucky.

His radio man wasn't so lucky.

Neither was the middle marine. His face and neck were bleeding profusely, with the nearest marine frantically trying to apply first aid.

“Duke, please... don't let me die!” the middle marine cried. “I got a wife and a kid!” Gman clenched his teeth again and choked back tears. He crawled over to the dying man, and grabbed his hand. “I swear to you that your family will never do without.” The man's ragged breathing started to slow. “Thank... you... si-”.

And that was that.

Gman grabbed his dog tags, and yanked hard. Once they were free of the dead man's neck, he placed it in his chest pocket, and said a silent prayer, that Mors might take this brave marine quickly to his reward. Another explosion rocked the pill box. After the roar subsided, Gman's eyes quickly swept the room, appraising the situation. Two marines were left, and him too. They had enough ammo to last them, but they needed to get out fast. The docks weren't far. Less then a quarter of a mile to go.

“Marines, get going! We'll duck into the alley behind us, that should give us enough cover to get to the LCAC. It's the last one, and it's waiting for us. Get your asses moving!” Gman shouted. The two remaining marines needed no further motivation. They abandoned their positions in the pill box, and made a mad dash for freedom. Gman pulled up the rear, walking backwards, his gun aimed back at the enemy, angrily letting loose full metal jacket fury. “Hurry up marines, get to that-oh shit.”

Gman turned around to face forward for just a second, and what he saw was truly heartbreaking. The enemy had already set up position behind them. The LCAC was no where in sight. Replacing it, a machine gun emplacement. It had been a pipe dream this whole time. The enemy had been too quick. Too strong. Too organized. They never had a chance.

The machine gun let loose its terrible vengeance.

--

Gman shrieked and let loose a frantic cry. He sat up in a cold sweat. His clothes and bedsheets completely soaked. A rainstorm was gently tapping at the window beside him, letting him know that the world outside was just as frightened as he. It had all been a nightmare. Just a nightmare.

But nightmares were never JUST nightmares in Shireroth, were they?

He shook his head, as if he could forget the bloody images with a pantomime. He brought his hands up to his face, and gently rubbed it, clearing the sweat from his brow. He pulled back his covers and walked over to the bathroom beside his bed chamber. He turned on the faucet and gulped down some water. It was three am, and he would have to be up at seven anyway, so he decided to get an early start on the day. It's not like he could sleep now anyway.



Summary: Gman has a frightening vision of the future, and begins the proccess of setting up the temple as the headquarters.

Baron William Payne had just been back in Hallucination for a week before he had decided to get involved in the newest rebellion. Although he wasn't pleased that it had happened so soon after his coronation, he couldn't just stand by and let a murderer be the ruler of the nation he'd chosen to call his home.

He sat at a round table in his vacation home in Hallucigrad, the city he'd decided to make the temporary capital for the duration of the war, with his top military officials.

"Sir, we are expecting Duke Jonas to invade from the north, and we should concentrate on defending that part of the Barony the most," said Captain Hevrey Hofmekler, the leader of the Vervollian Guard.

"But what of the South? We're not precisely sure were Baron Andreas stands on this issue, and we could well be invaded by way of Atterock," put in Shanja Miritu, the leader of the Schlangen Militia.

They had been discussing strategy since early morning, had played through the same scenarios time and time again. They had basically covered everything that needed to be discussed, but wanted to be thorough. However, they had only come to one agreement, that they would worry about their defence first, and then deal with sending support to Yardistan and elsewhere.

William coughed, signalling that he wanted to talk.

"Why don't we put the majority, say 45% of our troops on the border between Old Hallucination and Nova Dalmacija. We'll put 30% of out troops around Erior, in Schlangen, and 15% around Mahozarcheep, just in case they decide to invade our center."

A chorus of OKs resounded through the small room.

"What of the last 10%, my lord?" asked Shaniqua Urdane, a military strategist from the University of Great Halluci.

"We shall keep it here in Hallucigrad for our defense in case they do make a crazy move like trying to attack us at our new capital."said William. He could feel his stomach rumbling, and was ready to finish all of this business.

"So is everything settled? If you have anything else to say, speak now."

The entire room was silent.

"Well then, go out and get ready to move out. I'll have which places each of you and your men need to be posted in Town Square tomorrow evening.

And finally, everyone got up and left. William stayed seated for a minute before heading to the spacious dining room on the first floor.

Summary: Prepartions are being made to defend Hallucination from the rest of Kildare.