Ouistreham, Contested Burgundy
0300 Dulwich Mean Time
Plane after plane, the West Engell Republican Combined Armed Forces were arriving and being shouted orders to organize impromptu squads and platoons to to guard the exterior of the airport. Without a doubt: this was the first cell of the Thaumantican virus to come, and any lasting presence would hinge on continued Cussian air superiority over the next days while Engellachian Army and Marines touched down by air or by sea.
In the darkness of night they made improvised barricades, stopped to brace from awesome flares of light and sound, and struggled to communicate to the desperate citizens seeking escape or refuge that they had to turn back home."They don't have homes, Dax . . Stop fuckin' telling them to go back to one," one Specialist Reinquist told his a soldier along a thoroughfare into the airport.
Each soldier carried one magazine a piece, locked and loaded, aware only that none were completely full and that if they were engaged in combat they should take cover, limit their fire, or prioritize support of a sharpshooter. This was doctrine for these fringe operations at least; in practice the Engellachians could only be trusted to defend their battle buddies in a firefight, rank and uniform slipped away and allegiance to one's self and comrades took precedent. Officers were not taken seriously until they drew the lot to be lead man in a squad, so when General Kentigern Hayes showed up beside the two specialists driving an imported pick-up truck not yet quite full of soldiers they were convinced.
"Ever liberated a Royal Palace?" General Hayes asked. Reinquist shook his head, "My Grandpa died defending one." Hayes raised his eyebrows, as did the other soldiers along for the ride, "Cynnist, eh?". Reinquist nodded, "Charlotte and Aleister fought to the death for their claim and kin. If you mean to say we're going to capture the Coward Charles' house, who abandoned his kin and country, then let's roll!". Specialist Renquist jumped into the pickup bed and packed himself between the other soldiers, some shivering he noticed not from any cold in this summer heat, but legitimate fear.
"Repeat after me," Renquist offered his compatriots, "Tonight I hunt! My ancestors run through my blood as wolves, the moon and the stars illuminate my target: the throat of my enemy. Bright red, dead, I howl and call out for my pack!"
"OoooOooooo" some of them let out, snickering and looking around uncomfortably. "Oooouistrehaaam, weeee'rrrreee hunting for youuuu-ooo-ooo - fuckin' losers!" a Private Pence screamed. Renquist flicked a rifle butt in to the boy's jaw instinctively, sending him over the lip of the speeding truck and into to a death roll. General Hayes in front was the only one to react, knocking on the window behind him and shouting out - "Almost there now boys, no more blue on blue, focus on the red!"
Thaumantican Square,
Vesper, West Engell Republic
2000 VST
"Our General took off in a pick-up trick?" Warrant Officer Haggard groaned, "Is that confirmed?". Sergeant McKenzie flipped the GPS on General Hayes's phone on the big-screen, it showed his and 8 other iBones dispersing and forming two groups approaching the front of the Royal Palace. One dot, a SFC. Evans, stopped moving in the middle of a field. The dots advanced, seemingly zig zagging up sets of stairs, another dot - PFC. Lang stopped, then slid back diagonally as if shot and falling back down the stairs.
"Check this out Chief, he's posting on bloody Twatter:"
0300 Dulwich Mean Time
Plane after plane, the West Engell Republican Combined Armed Forces were arriving and being shouted orders to organize impromptu squads and platoons to to guard the exterior of the airport. Without a doubt: this was the first cell of the Thaumantican virus to come, and any lasting presence would hinge on continued Cussian air superiority over the next days while Engellachian Army and Marines touched down by air or by sea.
In the darkness of night they made improvised barricades, stopped to brace from awesome flares of light and sound, and struggled to communicate to the desperate citizens seeking escape or refuge that they had to turn back home."They don't have homes, Dax . . Stop fuckin' telling them to go back to one," one Specialist Reinquist told his a soldier along a thoroughfare into the airport.
Each soldier carried one magazine a piece, locked and loaded, aware only that none were completely full and that if they were engaged in combat they should take cover, limit their fire, or prioritize support of a sharpshooter. This was doctrine for these fringe operations at least; in practice the Engellachians could only be trusted to defend their battle buddies in a firefight, rank and uniform slipped away and allegiance to one's self and comrades took precedent. Officers were not taken seriously until they drew the lot to be lead man in a squad, so when General Kentigern Hayes showed up beside the two specialists driving an imported pick-up truck not yet quite full of soldiers they were convinced.
"Ever liberated a Royal Palace?" General Hayes asked. Reinquist shook his head, "My Grandpa died defending one." Hayes raised his eyebrows, as did the other soldiers along for the ride, "Cynnist, eh?". Reinquist nodded, "Charlotte and Aleister fought to the death for their claim and kin. If you mean to say we're going to capture the Coward Charles' house, who abandoned his kin and country, then let's roll!". Specialist Renquist jumped into the pickup bed and packed himself between the other soldiers, some shivering he noticed not from any cold in this summer heat, but legitimate fear.
"Repeat after me," Renquist offered his compatriots, "Tonight I hunt! My ancestors run through my blood as wolves, the moon and the stars illuminate my target: the throat of my enemy. Bright red, dead, I howl and call out for my pack!"
"OoooOooooo" some of them let out, snickering and looking around uncomfortably. "Oooouistrehaaam, weeee'rrrreee hunting for youuuu-ooo-ooo - fuckin' losers!" a Private Pence screamed. Renquist flicked a rifle butt in to the boy's jaw instinctively, sending him over the lip of the speeding truck and into to a death roll. General Hayes in front was the only one to react, knocking on the window behind him and shouting out - "Almost there now boys, no more blue on blue, focus on the red!"
Thaumantican Square,
Vesper, West Engell Republic
2000 VST
"Our General took off in a pick-up trick?" Warrant Officer Haggard groaned, "Is that confirmed?". Sergeant McKenzie flipped the GPS on General Hayes's phone on the big-screen, it showed his and 8 other iBones dispersing and forming two groups approaching the front of the Royal Palace. One dot, a SFC. Evans, stopped moving in the middle of a field. The dots advanced, seemingly zig zagging up sets of stairs, another dot - PFC. Lang stopped, then slid back diagonally as if shot and falling back down the stairs.
"Check this out Chief, he's posting on bloody Twatter:"
Kent Hayes
@KHayes
We hoist this flag over the Coward Charles' palace! Thaumanticans, Marpesians, and Burgundian Patriots all together now! The Centuries of Misrule are Over! Let Freedom Reign!
"Buzz the General's phone and tell him to get to the Neustrian Revenue Office," Chief Haggard ordered, shaking his head at the trailer park antics of his countrymen. "If we can capture their tax and property records, assuming they're not destroyed . . " Haggard began, but McKenzie finished in quotation of Aleister Rydell: "the Merchants and their Masters are brought down by their ledgers!"
"Precisely, and peace kept by police deputies from their ward . . well, parish?" Haggard and his skiff shared a chuckle, "Thaumantic Pounds, Chief . ." McKenzie snickered, "That's the lube, and if they won't take that: we can aim the Cussian boot at their ass!".
Warrant Officer Haggard knocked on wood regardless, "We need the police to take the money though. With the Revenue Records we can determine an increase, set a pension if necessary, and seize the streets damn it."
@KHayes
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We hoist this flag over the Coward Charles' palace! Thaumanticans, Marpesians, and Burgundian Patriots all together now! The Centuries of Misrule are Over! Let Freedom Reign!
"Buzz the General's phone and tell him to get to the Neustrian Revenue Office," Chief Haggard ordered, shaking his head at the trailer park antics of his countrymen. "If we can capture their tax and property records, assuming they're not destroyed . . " Haggard began, but McKenzie finished in quotation of Aleister Rydell: "the Merchants and their Masters are brought down by their ledgers!"
"Precisely, and peace kept by police deputies from their ward . . well, parish?" Haggard and his skiff shared a chuckle, "Thaumantic Pounds, Chief . ." McKenzie snickered, "That's the lube, and if they won't take that: we can aim the Cussian boot at their ass!".
Warrant Officer Haggard knocked on wood regardless, "We need the police to take the money though. With the Revenue Records we can determine an increase, set a pension if necessary, and seize the streets damn it."
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