Omega124
Challenging Fate
OOC: I'm going to have to drop this. I can't see the maps, and that's making this unplayable. Sorry. 
CNES: The Flames of War (BETA)
- Thread starter Crezth
- Start date
OOC: I'm going to have to drop this. I can't see the maps, and that's making this unplayable. Sorry.
OK. Sorry about your trouble.
The People's Empire is now NPC. PM me if you would like to play as them.
Daftpanzer
canonically ambiguous
From: Muscovia
To: Ateuma, Domeni dels Cendres and Birodalmat Szuzies
We wish to formally apply to join your alliance!
...
@LJ, I really liked your music composition.
@Thlayli: have you chosen to act out of fear and moral weakness? Let us thus see who prevails.
To: Ateuma, Domeni dels Cendres and Birodalmat Szuzies
We wish to formally apply to join your alliance!
...
@LJ, I really liked your music composition.
@Thlayli: have you chosen to act out of fear and moral weakness? Let us thus see who prevails.
Kraznaya
Princeps
We accept your offer of alliance! May the evil Lijianren tremble!
Daftpanzer
canonically ambiguous
*Musical Theme*
The ashes of Muscovia filled the air. Muscovia; Our beautiful city, the jewel of the southern kingdoms, the seat of learning, and discussion, of philosophy, and toleration. Markets full of the goods of all nations. A thriving Celtic quarter, great temples of foreign cults. Sprawling gardens and eccentric town houses. A city that seemed to defy the rules of urban squalor and depression, that seemed to defy the rules in general. Here all had been life, vibrant, colourful... The city of the bountiful harvest of man. Now all was death; fire, smoke, great pillars of shadow rose from its skeletal remains, towering above its broken city walls, mournful spirits rising endlessly to the heavens, the sun shrinking from the sorrowful sight.
Muscovia was ash. A city had fallen, but a people remained. With darkened, bloody faces, flames glinting in their eyes, their faces expressed a thousand variations of defiance. Battered, aching limbs somehow found the strength to shoulder arms and form up for the next battle. My brothers. My sisters. Angels. Demons from hell. Muscovians.
War raged on. The invaders, proud, arrogant, despotic, cruel, dogmatic, narrow-minded. A cruelty that sought power over the whole world. Never could it allow such an annoyance as Muscovia to survive. From across the continent they came. Opposing forces: cultural, political, spiritual, military – that fate had decreed be resolved, here, through bloodshed. And through this war, we came to know who we were. Here, at the final act, only the true remained. Those who savoured wealth, safety, comfort, conformity – they had all made their excuses somewhere along the way. Here on this battlefield, only my spirit-brothers were left. The ones who remembered what was good about life. The ones who remembered what was worth living for, and weren't afraid to die for it. The ones who dared to believe that the creator had endowed them with a greater destiny than a slave or a serf. The ones who dared to believe...
Outnumbered two to one. Our giant war banners flying high, backed by the bleeding infernal sunset of smoke and fire. A thousand war-pipes roared to life, an indescribable sound, as if the wolf-mother of the earth was howling in definance and mourning. Thousands of feet marching, weapons drumming on shields, a growing battle-chant rising to the heavens. Outnumbered, and marching forward. Marching on through the rising torrent of missiles. Here and there, one of us fell – the cry for a medic, the slight shuffling of ranks, the majestically calm face of a captain reassuring his comrades without words. And we marched on. Here, at the end of my life, there was nothing that could make me feel more alive.
As the front lines were drawn magnetically towards each other, cavalry began to make their move on the flanks – the enemy horsemen charging eagerly to envelop us. Our cavalry made their move in turn – the fire lancers. My God... Angels straight out of hell. Winged cavalrymen, dazzling white and blue armour, the ends of their great lances lowered menacingly at the enemy, sparkling and aflame with burning ropes of gunpowder, the rear ranks firing missiles and blowing screeching battle-horns that seemed to pierce the sky. Like blazing comets, flying headlong into the enemy. In those final moments, I -
*dong*
I was interrupted. By the doorbell. My fascinating book and its wars of centuries past would have to wait, laid to rest in the conservatory amongst a dozen other books and maps and drawings; my world of refuge. The mailman, cheerful and to the point as always, handed me a telegram and then dashed away, leaving me standing in an open doorway to contemplate my sudden change of fate. A cold winter breeze invaded my dressing-gown. The telegram was from the High Council of Chaisadov Militia. Two words – ACTIVATION:EMERGANCY. No other words were needed. I knew exactly what was expected of me. In the middle of the working day, there was no time for much of any goodbyes. I was soon on my way.
The whole time packing and the walk to the station, my mind was filled with questions. I didn't bother with smalltalk, I didn't spare a cent for the newspapers, as I knew I would find out soon enough. I knew that our country had involved itself in the overthrow of the Volochnaya warlords, with some heavy casualties on our part. And now, some of the Zhenkov militia had become involved in a counter-revolution in the People's Empire. It seemed the whole continent was taking up arms. But I couldn't stop wondering – just what was next? 'EMERGANCY'... 'EMERGANCY'...
It was some time into my train journey before I actually heard the news. My God. Lijian had declared war. Lijian. War. Could it be true? Will they attack? No, surely not – what about all the tension over the independence of Zhalik? Had it all been a ruse? Lijian was not some disparate band of warlords, nor was it a failed state on a distant western border. This was it. A war worthy of my history books. I had been so eager for my father to induct me into the militia... Some feelings of regret now arose.
The train slowed to enter one of the major suburbs of the capitol, the sprawling conglomerate of parklands and great stone buildings that was Nakusev. I tried to compose my inner self as I gazed out of the window. Skeletal winter trees had been decorated with electric lights. Children skated on an ice rink as their parents watched with cheerful faces. An automobile-truck, loaded with exotic fruit from Gallee Kor, made its way through streets choked with horses and carriages. If there was much of any panic here, it wasn't evident yet. Something my father had said about war – its not until the shells start bursting around you...
The train whistled and rattled forward, heading to my final stop. I found a comforting thought: Muscovia never had been rebuilt. As a city, it remained a ruin. Nothing more than farmer's fields, a war memorial and a shrine. But in the death of a city, a new people had been born – Muscovians. And if all that we had built should suffer a similar fate, it will surely give rise to something even greater. Somehow, on some terrestrial plane. If we are removed from this one...
My militia had a motto, as most did. I found mine to be particularly inspiring at this point.
WE STAND TOGETHER: IN THIS LIFE AND THE NEXT.
The ashes of Muscovia filled the air. Muscovia; Our beautiful city, the jewel of the southern kingdoms, the seat of learning, and discussion, of philosophy, and toleration. Markets full of the goods of all nations. A thriving Celtic quarter, great temples of foreign cults. Sprawling gardens and eccentric town houses. A city that seemed to defy the rules of urban squalor and depression, that seemed to defy the rules in general. Here all had been life, vibrant, colourful... The city of the bountiful harvest of man. Now all was death; fire, smoke, great pillars of shadow rose from its skeletal remains, towering above its broken city walls, mournful spirits rising endlessly to the heavens, the sun shrinking from the sorrowful sight.
Muscovia was ash. A city had fallen, but a people remained. With darkened, bloody faces, flames glinting in their eyes, their faces expressed a thousand variations of defiance. Battered, aching limbs somehow found the strength to shoulder arms and form up for the next battle. My brothers. My sisters. Angels. Demons from hell. Muscovians.
War raged on. The invaders, proud, arrogant, despotic, cruel, dogmatic, narrow-minded. A cruelty that sought power over the whole world. Never could it allow such an annoyance as Muscovia to survive. From across the continent they came. Opposing forces: cultural, political, spiritual, military – that fate had decreed be resolved, here, through bloodshed. And through this war, we came to know who we were. Here, at the final act, only the true remained. Those who savoured wealth, safety, comfort, conformity – they had all made their excuses somewhere along the way. Here on this battlefield, only my spirit-brothers were left. The ones who remembered what was good about life. The ones who remembered what was worth living for, and weren't afraid to die for it. The ones who dared to believe that the creator had endowed them with a greater destiny than a slave or a serf. The ones who dared to believe...
Outnumbered two to one. Our giant war banners flying high, backed by the bleeding infernal sunset of smoke and fire. A thousand war-pipes roared to life, an indescribable sound, as if the wolf-mother of the earth was howling in definance and mourning. Thousands of feet marching, weapons drumming on shields, a growing battle-chant rising to the heavens. Outnumbered, and marching forward. Marching on through the rising torrent of missiles. Here and there, one of us fell – the cry for a medic, the slight shuffling of ranks, the majestically calm face of a captain reassuring his comrades without words. And we marched on. Here, at the end of my life, there was nothing that could make me feel more alive.
As the front lines were drawn magnetically towards each other, cavalry began to make their move on the flanks – the enemy horsemen charging eagerly to envelop us. Our cavalry made their move in turn – the fire lancers. My God... Angels straight out of hell. Winged cavalrymen, dazzling white and blue armour, the ends of their great lances lowered menacingly at the enemy, sparkling and aflame with burning ropes of gunpowder, the rear ranks firing missiles and blowing screeching battle-horns that seemed to pierce the sky. Like blazing comets, flying headlong into the enemy. In those final moments, I -
*dong*
I was interrupted. By the doorbell. My fascinating book and its wars of centuries past would have to wait, laid to rest in the conservatory amongst a dozen other books and maps and drawings; my world of refuge. The mailman, cheerful and to the point as always, handed me a telegram and then dashed away, leaving me standing in an open doorway to contemplate my sudden change of fate. A cold winter breeze invaded my dressing-gown. The telegram was from the High Council of Chaisadov Militia. Two words – ACTIVATION:EMERGANCY. No other words were needed. I knew exactly what was expected of me. In the middle of the working day, there was no time for much of any goodbyes. I was soon on my way.
The whole time packing and the walk to the station, my mind was filled with questions. I didn't bother with smalltalk, I didn't spare a cent for the newspapers, as I knew I would find out soon enough. I knew that our country had involved itself in the overthrow of the Volochnaya warlords, with some heavy casualties on our part. And now, some of the Zhenkov militia had become involved in a counter-revolution in the People's Empire. It seemed the whole continent was taking up arms. But I couldn't stop wondering – just what was next? 'EMERGANCY'... 'EMERGANCY'...
It was some time into my train journey before I actually heard the news. My God. Lijian had declared war. Lijian. War. Could it be true? Will they attack? No, surely not – what about all the tension over the independence of Zhalik? Had it all been a ruse? Lijian was not some disparate band of warlords, nor was it a failed state on a distant western border. This was it. A war worthy of my history books. I had been so eager for my father to induct me into the militia... Some feelings of regret now arose.
The train slowed to enter one of the major suburbs of the capitol, the sprawling conglomerate of parklands and great stone buildings that was Nakusev. I tried to compose my inner self as I gazed out of the window. Skeletal winter trees had been decorated with electric lights. Children skated on an ice rink as their parents watched with cheerful faces. An automobile-truck, loaded with exotic fruit from Gallee Kor, made its way through streets choked with horses and carriages. If there was much of any panic here, it wasn't evident yet. Something my father had said about war – its not until the shells start bursting around you...
The train whistled and rattled forward, heading to my final stop. I found a comforting thought: Muscovia never had been rebuilt. As a city, it remained a ruin. Nothing more than farmer's fields, a war memorial and a shrine. But in the death of a city, a new people had been born – Muscovians. And if all that we had built should suffer a similar fate, it will surely give rise to something even greater. Somehow, on some terrestrial plane. If we are removed from this one...
My militia had a motto, as most did. I found mine to be particularly inspiring at this point.
WE STAND TOGETHER: IN THIS LIFE AND THE NEXT.
Popcornlord
Steampunk Mechanic
- Joined
- Oct 18, 2007
- Messages
- 787
Is it alright to join as a new nation at this point? I'm thinking about starting in Nieke, because it's one of the few semi-isolated places left. Otherwise I'd like to play as the People's Empire.
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
Were I afraid, we would not have openly declared war, barbarian.
From: The Constitutional Republic of Lijian
To: The People's Empire [whoever ends up playing it]
We offer you an alliance for the purpose of ending Muscovian aggression once and for all.
Daftpanzer
canonically ambiguous
Like how my 'aggression' consists of 1 militia 
The People's Empire is a failed state and we are helping the local people with a counter-revolution...
To: The Warlords pf Lijian
From: The Allied Peoples of Muscovia
And yet, is it not fear that drives you? Fear of what a free and unburdened people may achieve? Our high council has directed great advances in industry and commerce, content to rely upon traditional militia for defence. We did not choose to impoverish our nation through the building of heavy artillery and war machines, as you did.
The People's Empire is a failed state and we are helping the local people with a counter-revolution...To: The Warlords pf Lijian
From: The Allied Peoples of Muscovia
And yet, is it not fear that drives you? Fear of what a free and unburdened people may achieve? Our high council has directed great advances in industry and commerce, content to rely upon traditional militia for defence. We did not choose to impoverish our nation through the building of heavy artillery and war machines, as you did.
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
The production of those war machines has significantly contributed to Lijian's GNP, not that we would expect socialists to understand economics.
Daftpanzer
canonically ambiguous
Nor should we expect fascists to understand basic humanity.
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
Lijian, the arsenal of democracy, was an enlightened democratic state when your ancestors were fighting with rocks and sticks.
Circuit
Writing Letters
To: Whom Concerned
From: Ateuma
We are dropping out of our prior alliance.
From: Ateuma
We are dropping out of our prior alliance.
Nieg (as Nieke is more properly named) is one of the southern Urethaku regions, along with Uhaku (properly named Uhak) and Kobo (spoken as 'Kob', unless one is a dirty non-Urethaku foreigner
). Since the collapse of the previous empire, a new dynasty, Gallee Kor, has arisen in the north. The south remains somewhat backwards and embroiled in conflicts between local warlords.Here is a link to Urethak's early history, and here is a history specific to my nation, Gallee Kor.
In an overview, our ancient ancestors developed a migratory agriculture similar to that found in Papua New Guinea, though we ultimately coalesced into a more settled agricultural population with a few large temple cities, something like the Classical Maya. Achieving unity, we struck out in the name of our Goddess Miehak, attempting to bring her gifts to the world several times. In more recent history, Urethak has experienced several centuries of decline under the rule of an isolationist and technologically backwards dynasty, failing to significantly resist foreign encroachment on all fronts. When this dynasty fell, an alliance of northern provinces united to declare a New Dynasty, Gallee Kor, poetically translated as the Final Empire (Gallee meaning State/Government/Power, and Kor meaning 'Ending/Last/Final'). The northerners embraced outside technology and used it to form a regional power, while the south has languished as of late.
Culturally, Urethakus have traditionally worshipped Miehak. When she began as a polytheistic Goddess, she was viewed as holding domain over Earth, Wealth, Beauty and Health, and while she is now viewed as a more universal figure, these four ideals remain at the core of Urethaku culture. Thus, we treasure a close connection with the earth, we view prosperity as a blessing, and a well-maintained appearance, combined with robust physical health, are seen as signs of goodness and holiness. While this can make Urethakus very environmentally aware, hard-working, artistic and health-conscious, it can also make us vain, arrogant, self-righteous and greedy. We view the lush places of the world as Miehak's home, and we have attempted to bring Her blessing to less fortunate regions of plains and desert, with limited results. Clearly, our predecessors were not trying hard enough.
We have been a traditionally matriarchal society, and at this point patriarchy or gender equality are generally viewed as departures from the norm. Women typically control education, lead households, and run the government, while men serve as physical labour, farmers, craftspeople and soldiers- though genders tend to be mixed in military command, it is as generals that men are able to find the greatest power. Some patriarchal systems have arisen, particularly during times of great disturbance, where military strong-men have established control, but the underlying basics of the civilization typically remain largely unchanged.
If you're interested in playing an Urethaku nation, just know that we're exuberant, colourful, garish and kind of full of ourselves. We're the kind of people who would think that going to war wearing bright, golden crests and bright, purple robes is a good idea, the kind of people who would try turn a desert into a rainforest for religious reasons, and the kind of people who might say 'Gurshuub murg nethuk ogee kalondeg' in place of 'Good Morning'.
lurker's comment: Also the kind of people who'd squander a positional advantage for roleplaying reasons.
If you'd like to play as the People's Empire, send orders for them before 10 o'clock EST today. If you'd like to start a new nation, read the information on the front page and fill out a submission sheet and PM it to me. Make sure to outline what province you want to start in and how you spend your NP (at this point, you may only start in the one province, so don't mind about buying additional provinces).
Daftpanzer
canonically ambiguous
Popcornlord
Steampunk Mechanic
- Joined
- Oct 18, 2007
- Messages
- 787
Alright then, I think I'll enter as The People's Empire. Thanks for the write up Lord Iggy, an interesting culture to say the least, but The People's Empire allows me to get right into the action.
Orders forthcoming.
Orders forthcoming.
Daftpanzer
canonically ambiguous
Looks like war on all fronts for me. Bring it, minions of Thlayli!
Popcornlord
Steampunk Mechanic
- Joined
- Oct 18, 2007
- Messages
- 787
I refused to be called a minion. "Subserviently Associated" sounds much more sophisticated.
Edit: Oh, and I'll accept Thlayli's alliance offer.
Edit: Oh, and I'll accept Thlayli's alliance offer.
You mean how I chose to not expand to the north? Hopefully not all Urethaku nations will be as bad at moving around outside of the box as we are.
Glad you enjoyed it Popcornlord, even if it's not needed, I'm glad I wrote it out, since I hadn't yet expressed everything I'd thought about it in writing.
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