jalapeno_dude
AKA Panda Judo Eel
I'm not sure how many of my NESers know this reference, but I find this to be the most amusing post in my NES so far.
Thanks! I certainly hope everyone has read LINESII...
INES Ib: Novus Ortus
- Thread starter Imago
- Start date
Thanks! I certainly hope everyone has read LINESII...
Perfectionist
Angel of Verdun
Pepin stared with distaste at the fog surrounding the ship. The bloody stuff had been omnipresent since they left Calais. The captain, fearing for the safety of his illustrious passenger, had been obliged to travel slowly as a result, and so the voyage had taken far longer than expected. For much of that time, the Emperor had been afflicted with sea sickness, and his mood had been terrible. However, just a moment ago he had seemed to notice a break in the fog and brightened. As time passed, it became apparent that the fog was, at last, breaking. As it cleared, Pepin caught sight of a smudge on the horizon. As they approached, it resolved itself into a massive settlement, with many piers protruding into the sea and many ships coming and going. As they came closer still, Pepin was able to distinguish the original small settlement with its single pier, now swallowed up by the massive armed camp. They approached a pier, and the sailors swung into action, doing the thousand incomprehensible things that sailors do to bring a ship into port. Almost before they had come to a stop, Pepin jumped down on to the dock. There was a small party of military men there to greet him. One of them stepped forward. “Odo,” Pepin said in greeting. Odo bowed, “Your majesty, welcome to Trelleborg.”
“And it looks a delightful place,” Pepin replied breezily, “Where is Alcuin?”
“He is away, inspecting a section of the front. I imagine that you want begin your own inspection?”
“Yes, that might be a good idea,” Pepin said, and he and the rest of generals moved into the town.
Trelleborg had been a sleepy little fishing village before the war. When the Celto-Danish army arrived in Skane, they had needed an port to bring in supplies. Originally, it had been expected that Malmo would serve, but that city's stubborn refusal to fall had necessitated a change in plans. By some arcane logic known only to the army's quartermasters, Trelleborg had been selected as a replacement. In short order, a veritable army of engineers had descended on it and now Trelleborg housed possibly the greatest concentration of military supplies anywhere in the world. Dozens of Allied ships deposited their cargo daily, and the streets were clogged with wagons moving weapons and food. Pepin walked through the frenzied activity with Odo and the rest of the Allied high commanders.
“So as you can see, your majesty,” Odo said, “the supply situation has been stabilized. If necessary, we can sit here for fifty years.”
“I certainly hope it won't come to that, Odo,” said Pepin jocularly, “It is very impressive, seeing these stockpiles. But these vast quantities of supplies beg the question,” Pepin's voice hardened and Odo braced himself, “if we have more men and more supplies than the enemy, why are we still sitting here at the tip of Svearland?” The commanders shifted in discomfort. “Well,” Pepin barked, “can't one of you answer?”
Odo spoke, “Simply put, your majesty, Malmo. The fortifications are huge. We are grinding them down and doing the best we can, but no army could take that city quickly.”
“Well then, perhaps we need a new strategy, eh? That is why I am here, after all, to inspect the situation, see what changes need to be made.” Pepin paused for a moment, “On that note, I think I want to see the siege.”
“Excuse me, your majesty?”
“I want to see the siege. See exactly what kind of defenses we are up against.”
Some of the generals groaned softly. They spent enough of their time staring at those walls, and didn't relish the prospect of doing any more than absolutely necessary. But the Emperor wanted to see the front, so Odo gave a few quick orders and away they went, heavily guarded.
A short time later, the group arrived at the front lines of the army. Pepin sharply drew in his breath when he saw the walls of Malmo. Huge earthen constructions, stretching from the edge of the sea for as far as the eye could see. If he strained himself, Pepin could just make out the tiny figures of Svear soldiers, on top of the wall, dwarfed by the sheer size of the fortifications. As impressive as the fortifications were, at their base Pepin saw rubble, evidence that the siege had not been entirely without effect. As he looked out to sea, he saw white sails, the allied fleet maintaining the blockade.
“I see what you mean,” Pepin said, “the reports don't really do it justice.” He pointed to the ships, “Ours?”
“Danish, this week.” Odo replied, “It is big, isn't it? Our siege weapons,” he gestured towards a group of spidery contraptions a few hundred yards away, “barely touch it, though we are making some progress, as you see. The real problem is maintaining a secure siege.”
“Yes, a change in strategy is definitely required. How are the men holding up in the face of that?” Pepin said, waving a hand in the general direction of Malmo.
“Morale is generally high, mostly because of the good rations, but there are some traces of defeatism starting to creep in. The other commanders and I are taking steps to eradicate it before it becomes a problem.”
“Good, good. What...” Pepin stopped and turned around. “Never mind, I'll ask them myself,” he said, and bolted off. The generals were stunned for a moment, but then trotted off after him. Pepin pulled to a halt in a camp near the siege weapons and accosted a soldier passing by. “Hello,” he said cheerfully, “What's your name, my good man?” The soldier was momentarily stunned by Pepin's sudden arrival. He looked around wildly and saw the generals running up. He didn't recognize Pepin, but he did recognize Odo et al. and was distinctly alarmed by so many higher ups surrounding him. He turned in desperation to Odo and opened his mouth to ask what he had done wrong. Before he could say anything, Odo panted, “This is the Emperor.” The soldier turned back to Pepin, and if he had been alarmed before now he was terrified. “Come now,” Pepin said good-naturedly, “what is your name?”
“Arno, sir,” the soldier said in a barely audible voice.
“And where is your home, Arno?”
“Paris”
“Paris!” Pepin exclaimed, “Wonderful to meet a fellow Parisian out here. Do you have any children Arno?” Arno replied that he had a ten year old son. “Really!” Pepin said enthusiastically, “My son is nine.” Pepin continued, asked Arno about his son, how he liked army life, what he did at home. As Pepin talked, Arno began to relax until he was talking freely. After nearly half an hour Pepin politely moved on, leaving a charmed Arno. Pepin then moved through the camp, accosting every soldier he saw. The generals waited with increasing impatience as Pepin displayed a seemingly limitless interest in the minute details of the soldiers' lives. Finally, after more than three hours spent in the camp, Pepin departed, leaving awed soldiers behind. As they left, Odo walked alongside the Emperor and asked “What was the point of all that, sir?”
Pepin smiled, “I think it is a good thing to talk to the common soldiers from time to time, don't you Odo? You sometimes learn things that the generals don't know. Besides, it does the men good to know that their Emperor takes an interest in them.”
“As you say,” replied Odo impassively.
Pepin continued on his inspection of the lines. It was nightfall by the time the Emperor and his entourage returned to Trelleborg. The commanders were generally exhausted and wanted nothing more than to find a bed. The Emperor, on the other hand, was positively brimming with energy. As he talked of the things that he wanted to do, the generals realized with horror that he did not intend to sleep anytime soon, and that he expected them to stay awake as well. They were rescued from that fate, however, by the appearance of a man as they entered the camp. Upon sighting this man, Pepin called out a greeting, “Alcuin! I'm glad you are back today. We have a great deal to discuss.” He then turned to the generals and dismissed them, whereupon they gladly departed. He then jogged up to Alcuin. “Hello. How do you deal with those people day in and day out?”
“It can be trying at times, your majesty” Alcuin said wryly. In many ways, Alcuin was a strange man to lead the Celtic armies. For one thing, he was English. He had been born in York and only emigrated to the Empire in his early twenties. For another, he was not a noble. By sheer ability he had worked his way to the heights. And perhaps strangest of all, he was a priest by training. He had been educated in the cathedral school at York, where he excelled at his studies and been generally agreed to be on the path to an early bishopric. So it had come as a surprise when he had left the church to be soldier. His friends had generally been of the opinion that Alcuin had gone mad. Few people held that opinion any more.
Pepin and Alcuin moved into Alcuin's quarters. Pepin sat down and said “Give me a straight answer, Alcuin. How exactly are things going?”
Alcuin sighed, “Not as well as I would like. What have Odo and company been telling you?”
“Oh! They are fairly optimistic. The men tell a slightly different story. But you know what they think. I want to hear what you think.”
Alcuin sighed again “We are winning, but slowly. Give it another year, and we will have Malmo. But...” He trailed off.
“But what?” Pepin inquired.
“But it's all too predictable!” Alcuin cried, “We sit here grinding down the walls and when they are gone we will move north and grind down the fortifications there and so on all the way to Stockholm. All of our men know it, so you can bet that the Svear know exactly what we will do and will be waiting for us.”
“What do you propose we do?”
Alcuin paused for a moment and then said carefully, “Well, I have an idea.”
Pepin sat up straighter. Alcuin's ideas were often something special. “A good one?” he asked.
“I think so, but slightly risky.”
“Well what are you waiting for? Let's hear it!” Pepin exclaimed impatiently.
Alcuin explained his idea. The explanation took some time, and when it was finished Pepin was impressed. “That is one of your better ones,” he said, “but what about...” and proceeded to ask a slew of questions. They stayed awake for the rest of the night, discussing Alcuin's plan.
OOC: It appears that Svearland's -1 Confidence was accidentally applied to Denmark.
“And it looks a delightful place,” Pepin replied breezily, “Where is Alcuin?”
“He is away, inspecting a section of the front. I imagine that you want begin your own inspection?”
“Yes, that might be a good idea,” Pepin said, and he and the rest of generals moved into the town.
Trelleborg had been a sleepy little fishing village before the war. When the Celto-Danish army arrived in Skane, they had needed an port to bring in supplies. Originally, it had been expected that Malmo would serve, but that city's stubborn refusal to fall had necessitated a change in plans. By some arcane logic known only to the army's quartermasters, Trelleborg had been selected as a replacement. In short order, a veritable army of engineers had descended on it and now Trelleborg housed possibly the greatest concentration of military supplies anywhere in the world. Dozens of Allied ships deposited their cargo daily, and the streets were clogged with wagons moving weapons and food. Pepin walked through the frenzied activity with Odo and the rest of the Allied high commanders.
“So as you can see, your majesty,” Odo said, “the supply situation has been stabilized. If necessary, we can sit here for fifty years.”
“I certainly hope it won't come to that, Odo,” said Pepin jocularly, “It is very impressive, seeing these stockpiles. But these vast quantities of supplies beg the question,” Pepin's voice hardened and Odo braced himself, “if we have more men and more supplies than the enemy, why are we still sitting here at the tip of Svearland?” The commanders shifted in discomfort. “Well,” Pepin barked, “can't one of you answer?”
Odo spoke, “Simply put, your majesty, Malmo. The fortifications are huge. We are grinding them down and doing the best we can, but no army could take that city quickly.”
“Well then, perhaps we need a new strategy, eh? That is why I am here, after all, to inspect the situation, see what changes need to be made.” Pepin paused for a moment, “On that note, I think I want to see the siege.”
“Excuse me, your majesty?”
“I want to see the siege. See exactly what kind of defenses we are up against.”
Some of the generals groaned softly. They spent enough of their time staring at those walls, and didn't relish the prospect of doing any more than absolutely necessary. But the Emperor wanted to see the front, so Odo gave a few quick orders and away they went, heavily guarded.
A short time later, the group arrived at the front lines of the army. Pepin sharply drew in his breath when he saw the walls of Malmo. Huge earthen constructions, stretching from the edge of the sea for as far as the eye could see. If he strained himself, Pepin could just make out the tiny figures of Svear soldiers, on top of the wall, dwarfed by the sheer size of the fortifications. As impressive as the fortifications were, at their base Pepin saw rubble, evidence that the siege had not been entirely without effect. As he looked out to sea, he saw white sails, the allied fleet maintaining the blockade.
“I see what you mean,” Pepin said, “the reports don't really do it justice.” He pointed to the ships, “Ours?”
“Danish, this week.” Odo replied, “It is big, isn't it? Our siege weapons,” he gestured towards a group of spidery contraptions a few hundred yards away, “barely touch it, though we are making some progress, as you see. The real problem is maintaining a secure siege.”
“Yes, a change in strategy is definitely required. How are the men holding up in the face of that?” Pepin said, waving a hand in the general direction of Malmo.
“Morale is generally high, mostly because of the good rations, but there are some traces of defeatism starting to creep in. The other commanders and I are taking steps to eradicate it before it becomes a problem.”
“Good, good. What...” Pepin stopped and turned around. “Never mind, I'll ask them myself,” he said, and bolted off. The generals were stunned for a moment, but then trotted off after him. Pepin pulled to a halt in a camp near the siege weapons and accosted a soldier passing by. “Hello,” he said cheerfully, “What's your name, my good man?” The soldier was momentarily stunned by Pepin's sudden arrival. He looked around wildly and saw the generals running up. He didn't recognize Pepin, but he did recognize Odo et al. and was distinctly alarmed by so many higher ups surrounding him. He turned in desperation to Odo and opened his mouth to ask what he had done wrong. Before he could say anything, Odo panted, “This is the Emperor.” The soldier turned back to Pepin, and if he had been alarmed before now he was terrified. “Come now,” Pepin said good-naturedly, “what is your name?”
“Arno, sir,” the soldier said in a barely audible voice.
“And where is your home, Arno?”
“Paris”
“Paris!” Pepin exclaimed, “Wonderful to meet a fellow Parisian out here. Do you have any children Arno?” Arno replied that he had a ten year old son. “Really!” Pepin said enthusiastically, “My son is nine.” Pepin continued, asked Arno about his son, how he liked army life, what he did at home. As Pepin talked, Arno began to relax until he was talking freely. After nearly half an hour Pepin politely moved on, leaving a charmed Arno. Pepin then moved through the camp, accosting every soldier he saw. The generals waited with increasing impatience as Pepin displayed a seemingly limitless interest in the minute details of the soldiers' lives. Finally, after more than three hours spent in the camp, Pepin departed, leaving awed soldiers behind. As they left, Odo walked alongside the Emperor and asked “What was the point of all that, sir?”
Pepin smiled, “I think it is a good thing to talk to the common soldiers from time to time, don't you Odo? You sometimes learn things that the generals don't know. Besides, it does the men good to know that their Emperor takes an interest in them.”
“As you say,” replied Odo impassively.
Pepin continued on his inspection of the lines. It was nightfall by the time the Emperor and his entourage returned to Trelleborg. The commanders were generally exhausted and wanted nothing more than to find a bed. The Emperor, on the other hand, was positively brimming with energy. As he talked of the things that he wanted to do, the generals realized with horror that he did not intend to sleep anytime soon, and that he expected them to stay awake as well. They were rescued from that fate, however, by the appearance of a man as they entered the camp. Upon sighting this man, Pepin called out a greeting, “Alcuin! I'm glad you are back today. We have a great deal to discuss.” He then turned to the generals and dismissed them, whereupon they gladly departed. He then jogged up to Alcuin. “Hello. How do you deal with those people day in and day out?”
“It can be trying at times, your majesty” Alcuin said wryly. In many ways, Alcuin was a strange man to lead the Celtic armies. For one thing, he was English. He had been born in York and only emigrated to the Empire in his early twenties. For another, he was not a noble. By sheer ability he had worked his way to the heights. And perhaps strangest of all, he was a priest by training. He had been educated in the cathedral school at York, where he excelled at his studies and been generally agreed to be on the path to an early bishopric. So it had come as a surprise when he had left the church to be soldier. His friends had generally been of the opinion that Alcuin had gone mad. Few people held that opinion any more.
Pepin and Alcuin moved into Alcuin's quarters. Pepin sat down and said “Give me a straight answer, Alcuin. How exactly are things going?”
Alcuin sighed, “Not as well as I would like. What have Odo and company been telling you?”
“Oh! They are fairly optimistic. The men tell a slightly different story. But you know what they think. I want to hear what you think.”
Alcuin sighed again “We are winning, but slowly. Give it another year, and we will have Malmo. But...” He trailed off.
“But what?” Pepin inquired.
“But it's all too predictable!” Alcuin cried, “We sit here grinding down the walls and when they are gone we will move north and grind down the fortifications there and so on all the way to Stockholm. All of our men know it, so you can bet that the Svear know exactly what we will do and will be waiting for us.”
“What do you propose we do?”
Alcuin paused for a moment and then said carefully, “Well, I have an idea.”
Pepin sat up straighter. Alcuin's ideas were often something special. “A good one?” he asked.
“I think so, but slightly risky.”
“Well what are you waiting for? Let's hear it!” Pepin exclaimed impatiently.
Alcuin explained his idea. The explanation took some time, and when it was finished Pepin was impressed. “That is one of your better ones,” he said, “but what about...” and proceeded to ask a slew of questions. They stayed awake for the rest of the night, discussing Alcuin's plan.
***********
OOC: It appears that Svearland's -1 Confidence was accidentally applied to Denmark.
jeps
Arcadefire
Unfortunately I did not get a chance to finish my story. I will be gone for at least the weekend and possibly until Wednesday/Thursday with a small chance of internet access. Though I might be on, don't wait on any unanswered diplo or make new ones that are necessary for your orders.
In an attempt to explain what happened I did write a story. Sheep I think you should read this because I do admit what really did happen. It does not matter what I said to the Holy Celtic Empire. You splitting from the church was going to cause war anyway. Plus Denmark looked to be a target by Perfectionist long before I said anything to him. What I told him is what he already thought so your nation was doomed to its current situation even if I had kept my mouth shut. I think Perfectionist will back me up on this one. However Scotland is a truly different matter 
The Path to Unification of Great Britain.
And the Conspiracy behind it
Across the great northern seas war had broken out all which could truly be considered one conflict. Everyone agrees that the main root of the conflict lie in two places Stockholm and London. These two monarchs had created a situation that would lead to the deaths of many brave men and the restructuring of the political situation in the Great Northern Seas.
Lets begin with the plots within London. King Egbert would soon bear the name The Divider in England both for his domestic and foreign actions. The story began with Scotland when their king sent a diplomatic message pushing for further cooperation and hinting to their intents of a Northern Empire. This was soon after England was working to reconcile its relations and religion with the mainland for greater cooperation with the mainland. King Egbert knew he could not ruin his diplomatic work despite the obvious tasty Northern Gaul laying open to conquest. He then released a message to the Holy Celtic Empire revealing a plot. King Egbert played along with the plot not knowing who to trust for various reasons
King Egbert had recently inherited the throne and he also inherited the general English hatred of the Scotts and Irish. So when the Scotts came to England he truly believed they were planning a Celtic reconquest of the British Isles. However, things were different in the Kings court who would endlessly debate who to trust and the benefits of trusting either power.
Harold of was one of the kings closest advisors and tutor as child. He believed in the idea of an independent Anglo-Saxon church and moving towards to the old glories of old Englands mainland empire. He was an aggressive man however his influence would quickly die in the Kings court as he was framed. In a plot to frame Harold by more cautious nobles they succeeded. They planted evidence that Harold hired mercenaries to kill the king. The events that took place in this plot are sketchy but it is know that Harold was hung in London.
The court of England was corrupt. The King heard things that simply were not true about Svearland. Although Svearland expressed or lead the English diplomats to believe they would attack Denmark ,however, to be fair the Svearlanders never stated clearly to the English court to attack Denmark. Historians drew this guess due to the secret writings of several of the men advising the king. As time went on the king decided it was best to stick with the Holy Celtic Empire then Scotland. He then plotted with mainland Celts to destroy the Scottish army in Ireland and end their kingdom for good.
To end the Svearland had long been inciting war with the Holy Celtic Empire over religious disputes. Although, England did release diplomatic messages to the Holy Celtic Empire the Celts had long before been asking for assistance to deal with what they believed was a mad king. England did agree and added so more based on what they believed was true to gain more reasons for what is considered a great betrayal. Whatever really happened diplomatically England would forever be tied with the mainland and it was now on a path towards unification. The British Isles will never be te same after this war
The Path to Unification of Great Britain.
And the Conspiracy behind it
Across the great northern seas war had broken out all which could truly be considered one conflict. Everyone agrees that the main root of the conflict lie in two places Stockholm and London. These two monarchs had created a situation that would lead to the deaths of many brave men and the restructuring of the political situation in the Great Northern Seas.
Lets begin with the plots within London. King Egbert would soon bear the name The Divider in England both for his domestic and foreign actions. The story began with Scotland when their king sent a diplomatic message pushing for further cooperation and hinting to their intents of a Northern Empire. This was soon after England was working to reconcile its relations and religion with the mainland for greater cooperation with the mainland. King Egbert knew he could not ruin his diplomatic work despite the obvious tasty Northern Gaul laying open to conquest. He then released a message to the Holy Celtic Empire revealing a plot. King Egbert played along with the plot not knowing who to trust for various reasons
King Egbert had recently inherited the throne and he also inherited the general English hatred of the Scotts and Irish. So when the Scotts came to England he truly believed they were planning a Celtic reconquest of the British Isles. However, things were different in the Kings court who would endlessly debate who to trust and the benefits of trusting either power.
Harold of was one of the kings closest advisors and tutor as child. He believed in the idea of an independent Anglo-Saxon church and moving towards to the old glories of old Englands mainland empire. He was an aggressive man however his influence would quickly die in the Kings court as he was framed. In a plot to frame Harold by more cautious nobles they succeeded. They planted evidence that Harold hired mercenaries to kill the king. The events that took place in this plot are sketchy but it is know that Harold was hung in London.
The court of England was corrupt. The King heard things that simply were not true about Svearland. Although Svearland expressed or lead the English diplomats to believe they would attack Denmark ,however, to be fair the Svearlanders never stated clearly to the English court to attack Denmark. Historians drew this guess due to the secret writings of several of the men advising the king. As time went on the king decided it was best to stick with the Holy Celtic Empire then Scotland. He then plotted with mainland Celts to destroy the Scottish army in Ireland and end their kingdom for good.
To end the Svearland had long been inciting war with the Holy Celtic Empire over religious disputes. Although, England did release diplomatic messages to the Holy Celtic Empire the Celts had long before been asking for assistance to deal with what they believed was a mad king. England did agree and added so more based on what they believed was true to gain more reasons for what is considered a great betrayal. Whatever really happened diplomatically England would forever be tied with the mainland and it was now on a path towards unification. The British Isles will never be te same after this war
So they have the main branch and the cadet branch?
The Major
Warlord
There will be a rapid decrease in the production of tea and crumpets once I'm done with you farow...
And a rapid increase in the production of sean connery's
BEHIND_THE_MASK
A Liar... A Cheat...
- Joined
- Nov 13, 2006
- Messages
- 1,840
Hey, Contempt, U won the first round... poor planning on my part, but u can count that Japan's armies will reorganize... China, Silla and I will put an end to Gengis Khan and his fiendish brood...
I'd suggest u give into our demands and we'll let u keep Mongolia.
I'd suggest u give into our demands and we'll let u keep Mongolia.
I have not lost a battle yet. I control most of China, and have halved Silla's wealth. Japan's armies are too weak, to far away, and underneath command of a fool. You will make no difference. Come, let us see what is learned upon the battle field.
BEHIND_THE_MASK
A Liar... A Cheat...
- Joined
- Nov 13, 2006
- Messages
- 1,840
Mongol will soon collapsed... Japan will rise from the fire and strike a blade through Mongolia's heart. Japan's army lacks in numbers but is rules by will. This war will end with Mongolia aflame and the Capital in ruins.
(Also: U will find that I have the Tactical genious to win. Ur rank as "Overall Best Player" is about to collapse.)
On a side note though: Good luck and have fun ^^
BEHIND_THE_MASK
A Liar... A Cheat...
- Joined
- Nov 13, 2006
- Messages
- 1,840
I have plans for reform... though, throough all the other writings I've done, i'm a bit far behind in the stories I write.
Three nations oppose the single nation of Mongolia. China, Silla, and Japan. Even with such an alliance, Mongolia has accomplished a majority of the victories, and has stolen much of the economic might of Silla and China, becoming the strongest economically and militarily in this war. Not only this, but there are other, currently untapped resources underneath our banner.
So I ask you, who is winning this war? Mongolia, or the pathetic Sino alliance?
*****
Northern Silla, Mongol Command Base
The flags of the Mongolian army flew high in the air in the Silla mountain side. A small village lay nearby, forced into supplying the Mongols with a small portion of their crops to supplement the supply shipment of cattle and arrows from the homeland. The entire camp was extremely large for such a small Mongolian force, as the Mongol soldiers took their familes with them on such operations.
The wives and daughters kept up the camp's daily operations, and served as the medical arm of encampment. Young sons learned from their fathers as the warriors trained in preperation for battle. Every man, and every women had a duty in the Mongolian army, and each was expected fully to do their part, without fail. To refuse, or flee, meant instant death. It was an honor to merely contribuate to the war, to the glory of Mongolia.
Yet, in the center tent, the supreme general of the Silla operation was in the midst of a local Kurultai, to decide the fate of the entire operation.
"Warlord Arghun, I do not think we can hold this position for much longer. The mountains are unenviable to our style of warfare, and while we conquered the most difficult portion of the mountains already through surprise, we will not have such surprise on our side again," one thinner general said, the worry evident in his voice.
A second general, a more heavy set man nodded in agreement, but offered his own assement of the situation, "While I believe that Kitbuqa is correct in his assement of our untenable position, the capture of the trade and farmland of Silla is an important one to our war effort. By robbing our enemies of wealth, and enriching ourselves, we become that much more powerful. We must continue with our offensive," finished the larger general, his face set in a grim line at the prospect of an undermanned offensive.
"I do not believe that will be the case, thankfully, Hulagu, as I have heard reports that the Great Khan's Yesugei's second son is at the head of an army to reinforce our position. An army very similar to his brother Temujin's army..."
Whispers broke out amongst the general as they wondered about the implications of that, and the effect it might have on morale.
"Enough," rang the voice of the Supreme Warlord of Silla, "I do not think we came here to make predictions needlessly. We came to plan for war. I do not think that we will incur that much resistance from the Silla, but there is always a possibility that China or Japan will send reinforcements to the Silla troops."
"That is true, Warlord, but it also assumes that Japan and China have those troops to spare. I do not believe that either Japan or China have those type of troops to spare, given Japan's desire to attempt to strike through the river to hit our 'unprotected' capital. Bah, the capital means nothing to us. We are nomads, not pathetic city dewellers, the capital is merely a place to trade. Burning it will mean nothing to us," finished Hulagu with a snort of disdain.
"So you say, Hulagu, but such an attack in our homeland cannot stand, or even happen once more. Otherwise, we will lose the confidence of the chieftans, and lose much power and men," responded Arghun, making the counterpoint.
"Or perhaps it might ignite a fire for revenage. Such things are not known until they happen," smirked the slippery Kitbuqa.
"It is of no consquence. We have been tasked by the Khan to take Silla's wealth for our own, and by Tengri's might, we are close to succeeding. We will continue our offensive, for better, or for worse," said Arghun, his face returning to a hard look to the maps scattered in the command tent.
"But, Supreme Warlord, they outnumber us, and will no doubt recieve reinforcements. How can we beat them as we are?"
"Ah, but such armies have a weakness, which we do not share. And I will exploit it until they suddenly find an arrow in their throat," smirked Arghun, slamming a dagger into a small mark in the map. A look of comprehension flashed through the generals faces, and they all smiled.
"So you say, Supreme warlord," said the generals as one, and they left one by one, to address and prepare their men.
There was much work to be done before Qasar, the Second son of Yesugei, arrived at the front.
*****
BEHIND_THE_MASK
A Liar... A Cheat...
- Joined
- Nov 13, 2006
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- 1,840
Soon... both of our armies will mean at the Battlefeild, Silla is in chaos, China nears Collapses, the only my left to truly oppose the Mongolian threat is the Japanese... The hours of truth near...
How do I respond....
On a more serious note: Imago do my people know Iceland exists yet? If so I am going to PM you with some ideas.
