«12. . .333334335336337»
Post coming very soon... sorry for the delay.
Moooooo!
That’s Minotaur for ‘Time to party!’
Hello everyone!!
Why do fathers take an extra pair of socks when they go golfing?
Across the Galaxy I go, through the power of embassys!
Surf the galactic waves, meet many along the way.
"The Chronicles of James R. Kennedy: A Journey of Discovery"
In the bustling city of New Arcadia, nestled among towering skyscrapers and neon-lit streets, lived a young man named James R. Kennedy. Born into a modest family, James always possessed a restless spirit and an insatiable curiosity about the world beyond his city limits.
From a young age, James was drawn to adventure and exploration. He spent his days wandering through the labyrinthine alleyways of New Arcadia, absorbing the sights, sounds, and smells of the vibrant metropolis. But deep down, he knew that his destiny lay beyond the confines of his hometown.
As James grew older, his thirst for knowledge only intensified. He devoured books on history, science, and philosophy, eager to uncover the mysteries of the universe. But it wasn't until he stumbled upon an ancient tome in the depths of the city's oldest library that his life would change forever.
The book spoke of a legendary artifact known as the Orb of Eternity, said to possess the power to unlock the secrets of time and space. Intrigued by the possibility of such a discovery, James embarked on a quest to find the elusive artifact and unlock its hidden secrets.
His journey took him across vast deserts, treacherous mountains, and dense jungles, as he faced countless challenges and encountered allies and adversaries alike. Along the way, James discovered hidden temples, deciphered ancient glyphs, and unraveled the mysteries of forgotten civilizations.
But the path to the Orb of Eternity was not without its dangers. James faced formidable foes and daunting obstacles at every turn, testing his courage, wit, and resolve. Yet, fueled by his unwavering determination and boundless curiosity, he pressed on, determined to fulfill his destiny.
Finally, after years of perilous travel and tireless pursuit, James stood before the fabled Orb of Eternity. With trembling hands, he reached out and grasped the ancient artifact, feeling its power course through his veins. In that moment, James realized that his journey had only just begun.
Armed with the knowledge and wisdom gleaned from his adventures, James returned to New Arcadia, determined to share his discoveries with the world. He became a renowned scholar, lecturer, and explorer, inspiring others to follow in his footsteps and embark on their own quests for truth and enlightenment.
And so, the legend of James R. Kennedy lived on, a testament to the indomitable spirit of exploration and discovery that resides within us all. For in the end, it is not the destination that defines us, but the journey we undertake to reach it.
In Rowandale former Emperor Brian and King Burton were talking with each other about how James found the "Orb of Eternity".
Burton. "The humans call it the Orb of Eternity but that is only because they don't know what it really is."
Brian. "A record of all the knowledge that we had at the time that the Dragon Empire fell. And within that knowledge is also the location where Bahamut is sleeping."
Burton. "We already know where he is. What we don't know is how to wake him up. Are you even sure that is the best idea at this point?"
Brian. "No. But he is the only one strong enough to put Galen down. We need him regardless of what anyone else says. And the Orb might contain information on how to wake him."
Burton. "Speaking of which I don't think Sera will like your plan either."
Brian. "At this point I don't care. She has had her chance to help us but instead it seems like her forces have been trying to stop us."
Burton. "Perhaps she has a plan of her own for Bahamut. Didn't she recently talk to you about this?"
Brian. "Yes. But that doesn't change what we need to do now. She can either fight by our sides or get out of our way... but she will not stop me from doing what is necessary to take down my father once and for all."
This year we ride with the Khans! We are the KINGLY HORSEMEN ASSERTING NEIGHBORLINESS!!
Join us here for N-Day: page=faction/fid=1
Greetings, how are you doing?
im fine thx how about you?
(just got back home from a road trip. The second part of this (the fighting) is already complete. But it seemed too long to add in a single post)
Battle of Draganisia City: Battle of the Palace, 1.0
A convoy stretched for a mile. An armored column of tanks, trucks, and armored fighting vehicles all in procession through the Main Street of the city. It was a mighty sight to behold, to those that remained subject to the occupation and the soldiers that maintained such status quo. To those that refused such admistration, they lurked in the shadows watching with flamed eyes. Glowing eyes as those that befit wild cats. Watching, stalking, and learning about their prey. There was anger and envy radiating from the dens they called refuge.
Fubertas understood the perils of this move. The benefits outweigh the risks... They have too. Or else there is no hope for the cause left.
“City Southern Command reports additional beelines launched through the Wyvernmont. The Stonehollese 23rd Brigade has driven through the last passes. They have clear logistical lines through the mounts now, Marshal. The siege will only escalate... more than it already has.” General Delviev sat across from Chizu Fubertas. His face was a muddled mess. Bags beneath his eyes and hair beginning to whiten. Stresses of war. Never did say I never saw those myself. But hair turning white... Bahamut pray.
“The plans made for the siege are in motion. Nonetheless, If the southern defense maintains their positions for the determined period, there is a chance for success, General Delviev. This was not my intention to see our positions falter so quickly. We must adapt, however. And find the conspirator whose been twisting the ends amidst this war.” Chizu stared through the glass. He eyed the devastation, the rubble, the mess. This was the city they'd targeted. The first of many. He'd seen conflicts wars destroy entire metropolities. The city of Rowandale was nearly all but gone. A massive and well-populated city now reduced to nothing but ruins and dust. It may just be that the city will never ever surpass its might prior to the war for years to come.
There were banners raised along the skycrapers, the empty shops, the city districts. What they once called Oceaniton and Tangtown were near and different. He saw torn bright gold and red flags of Stratocratia. And saw the red and gold of the Federal Union. Yet, both flag variants were torn. Meanwhile, the red and black banner rose high above them amidst the rubble. He'd heard there had been a festival upon the moment they had invaded. Chizu saw the remains.
He was saddened. Nothing else he had to say.
This is the price of the cause we fight for. Our noble cause. To end the world's tyranny and restore justice and order to a world's population that has neither.
He'd helped found this movement. When the General Commander had met with him. When the General Commander had sought for him. When the General Commander needed him. They had placed down their lives, weaponry, and skillsets all for this cause. They did it because they cared. They did for those who did not have enough. They did it for those they had lost.
Most of all. They did it for those they loved.
“The price of war is a costly one, General Delviev. You see things you never wish to see again. Yet, it happens either way. Nations clash for a simple territorial dispute, a bloodline rivalry, or a random incident that chances were that it never would happen. Very few times there are wars for true justice. For vengeance of a person, a people, or a generation. There are those, but few. Perhaps Vinski's War was one of those... or not.” Chizu's eyes remained fixed on the rubble that flickered by. He blinked and felt sorrow. It was an archaic feeling. To see and feel a pang of sadness. To see and feel life go by. To see and feel the dreams that will never be fulfilled again.
“They say Vinski's War was justice, Marshal. Why do you say so?”
Chizu Fubertas had seen the hell that Nicholas Vinski had wrought. To his own family, his friends, and closest allies. But the vileness portrayed by Nicholas was just as corrupt as those that arose after him. Terrorists, warlords, and even other political figures that had fought against him. “We became the monsters as that man had been. Squabbling over every inch of occupational territory within Oceania. The sovereignty of Sealand and the Stonehollese states. Letting Vinski's loyalists get away to later return and haunt us for the next two decades. We saw hell arise in the entirety of the lands west of Rowandale, the Imperion. Oceania and the world were ravaged. Yet, we still do not learn. Justice never arose. Justice was delayed. Justice was denounced. Justice was denied. Leuthen knows that and so do we.”
“One day... the future generations will see what we had fought for. The blood we spilled. The blood that had fell. If we win, we achieve justice. If we lose, we achieve justice. Oceania will learn. That is the hope. That those that arise from the aftermath of our campaign for justice and security will see the blood spilled for such a cause. To see that there are those whom still seek after the security of humanity. The security of all sentience. Leuthen saw that in this war. A threat. A threat so hidden within the shadows of governance and corruption and hidden from all the populace. This was the belief, the belief for security and defense. The belief to take hard measures in order to ensure the survival of St Abbaddon.
One day. This will be seen. A cause we fought for. A cause that the people. All sentience. All St Abbaddon deserves. That motivates me. To assure the consequences of our actions within the past no longer shall harm the actions of those in the future. A world without need. A world without desire
That is the dream. The cause. Our destiny. Our final hope.”
-----
When he saw the carrier Maylajh, Henry could only hear the song.
Oh,
Captain Mayla was a Captain
A Captain of Great Unknown...
“They're gods' damned behemoths!”
All eyes present could only stare in awe. A hundred other pilots and sailors onboard the Lady Ranel watched as all three Reynae-class aircraft carriers lined up side-to-side. Lady Ranel, Maylajh, and Reynae. Three aircraft carriers, constructed by what once was one nation, and now owned by three separate nations, respectively: Draganisia, Stonehollow, and Silverstone. They had dedicated these vessels now to one plan. To one goal:
Win.
The sense of unity that Admiral Long had hoped to evoke once all three supercarriers had lined up would soon dissipate once all the major officers gathered in his quarters. Those from the other carriers arrived into the Lady Ranel hours after. Captains, generals, admirals, and so on. They all came onboard to recieve the Admiral's call.
Washing his F-18 with a hose in hand. If there was to be a battle then at least they'd have to be prepared. His aircrew was busying themselves with the task when he too recieved the call.
“Mister Bartley.”
A splotch of salt spray on the nose was removed from the rinse. He aimed the hose at the wings.
“Mister Bartley!”
His crew chief working with another hose end twirled two fingers signalling Henry to look behind him. Henry lowered the hoseline.
The officer's cap with the Rowandalian naval emblem was enough to signal her presence. “Aren't you too just a tad bit too important to be washing your own jet, sir Bartley?” Admiral Maya "Tau" Burton stood tall with arms crossed.
Climbing down from the ladder and handing his hose to a sailor, he shook hands with each Rowandale officer. “It's my jet. My responsibility, Admiral. As much as I'd wish for it, the taxpayers can't do everything. The same is with your own ship, the Tau. You command. You are responsible. Am I wrong?”
“So it seems, then.” Admiral Tau nodded. “I assumed that someone of your current reputation would have bigger duties to attend to. Perhaps a specific meeting? Even your fellow ace, now Captain Inque Jessica is attending.” She crossed her arms. “So why not you, Bartley?”
Henry didn't look Maya in the eyes. “Other obligations, Admiral.” Henry exchanged a look behind him. “My jet for one.”
The Admiral remained monotone. Her eyes did not give away convincement towards his words. “I've asked for your presence at the officer's gathering, Bartley. Whether or not your father wants your presence there is not his concern. You need to be there.”
Henry clasped his hands. “Did he make you ask kindly or kneel down and beg?”
The Admiral Burton wasn't amused. “Your father cannot be keeping you away from the ladder of responsibility. Someone of your reputation, as a pilot, and as a countryman.”
“That doesn't seem enough to convince him to trust me.” Henry was growing impatient at the Admiral's motives here. “You want me to attend because simply I'm of a high reputation? I could name a sailor now and they'd have more of a reason to attend than I do. There is no point.”
“Maybe for you there isn't. But there are others that matter to you that make your presence there a worthwhile reason.” She began turning away but not without saying, “Your father told me about the argument you both had. The fact you wanted to stay in Red Villa to help your fellow ace, the Steel Wolf and his forces. I know those kinds of arguments, a father that desires too much over their child. Your aim was honorable. But your father intends something greater and it was necessary for him to leave the Steel Wolf behind. If not for your father or for I. Do it for the Steel Wolf. Do it for his sister. Attend the meeting Bartley.”
Henry opened his mouth to refute. But by that point she was already on her way.
...
Henry took a seat next to the now Captain Inque Jessica. Amidst the conference hall she was the only one he felt confident to remain near. She smiled. “Took you long enough. The Admiral was fearful she'd owe me a few Dragoons by the end of the day.”
He was puzzled “You bet?”
“Oh of course we did. I was sure you wouldn't come. Now I owe her.” She slapped him on the back in laughter. “You'd be late though if it wasn't for the incident that came up. We were supposed to start ten minutes ago. The admirals though went runn—”
“Attention!”
Vice Admiral Solar took to the helm of the conference room as everyone rose. “As you may have witnessed. Our main voices became preoccupied with matters that arose only minutes ago. A skirmish with the fleet vanguard broke out with three scouting Anarchian gunboats. The gunboats have been captured with their crews and with it some words relating to the situation at Draganisia City.”
Admiral Long emerged, flanked by several officers with foreign emblems. A Gold Hollese. A Red Villan. And a Stonehollese.
Admiral Long began, “Compatriots and fellow officers. It has been far too long since so many banners and emblems of several foreign nations have gathered in preparation for what may just be the greatest liberation St Abbaddon will have ever seen. The Leuthenists have occupied the Empire of Draganisia in an invasion that has shocked all of us. But soon their invasion will come to an end.
“It is with the aid of Captain Joseph Cossete from Gold's Hollow, and those same islands he defended from an invasion by Anarchians. We have been able to formulate a plan to not only liberate Draganisia. But secure all the waters of the Blue Dragon Sea for as long as this war wages.”
The officer from Gold's Hollow rose up next to Admiral Long. His eyes were dark as well as skin. But his posture was almost of someone even higher than a Captain. The name too evoked a military lineage. Cossete. There was proof of that in the room. The Stonehollese officer was General Leo Cossette.
Joseph Cossete curtly nodded. “Thank you, Admiral. Yes, there is a plan to liberate Draganisia at long last. While the first elements of it have been completed and certain sectors of it are ongoing. The efforts of the Stonehollese and Silverstoni in launching a ground campaign have been reportedly succesful. But we are still blind to the true scale of conflict raging in Draganisia.
“The Anarchians have maintained a control over our communication threshold. We aren't able to communicate long distances with any of our troops either on the ground or in the air. It seems to be a series of EMPs which we've been slowly taking out in bases and stations littered across Draganisia. But the largest of these blockage signals seems to be coming from the Palace of Draganisia. I keep close communication with the Stonehollese who have been trying their best to contact their own officers inside Draganisia but the reports are slow. We know the Anarchians have a naval force defending Draganisia City. But without intelligence from the ground and expanded communication, any coordinated attack on the city either on the ground or by sea will be useless. General Leo Cossete here hoped that General Evelyn Llescas who is leading the counter-invasion would've freed up comms already.
In short, we need to take out the tower. Now I leave it to you, Admiral Long.”
Admiral Long nodded. “While Captain Cossete did mention bits of the plan. The remainders of it are known to us. Truly, I believe it is key to ending the war. Also, it is thanks to the captured gunboats from only minutes ago that we know the Anarchians have formed a tight naval defense along the Draganisia City harbor. The fleet is impressive but defeatable. But as stated by Joseph, we cannot move forward without that signal from the Palace being taken out. And since we have not recieved any word from the ground about this. We will be taking action ourselves.
In several hours from now. A task force of aircraft will be deployed to remove all enemy assets from the Palace of Draganisia. It is with sadness I say these words. But we must act now. We cannot wait any longer. The price of history is not enough to pay for the price of a whole nation. We must reopen our communications.”
The moment the room went into a frenzy was not a surprise at all to Henry. Though, Henry was pale now. His father without any seeming reluctance was willing to bomb centuries of history. The palace that even his own noble house had resided in when they ruled Draganisia. He was willing to destroy the Palace.
That was when the Admiral Burton approached the Admiral Long. And that was when his father's eyes were upon him.
Henry was going to bomb the Palace of Draganisia.
----
The banner of the dark soldier kneeling with a spear and shield in hand amidst a blue field was signal to the change that even Chizu Fubertas had yet to hear of. The Draganisian Palace now remained swarmed with those that swore allegiance to such banner.
“Zed's Legion.” General Delviev spat. “Mercenaries and idlemen.”
“Yet, allies all the same, General.” There had already been enough talk about tensions between the Anarchians and the Trutinians creeping at every front. Claims that those of Zed's Legion had fired on one side or the other in Red Villa that broke the ceasefire there. Or other claims that Zed's Legion had perpetrated the assassination attempt of the Emperor Brian of Draganisia. Mistrust was normal, especially in these circumstances where both nations were of completely different ideologies and motives. But it could not be tolerated in the tulmutous stages of war. “We best get to work then. Move out!”
The Legionnaires were already making their way towards the Field Marshal upon the arrival. The palace gateyard was covered with them. The tallest amongst them spoke first, a scarred eye marking him as the more experienced of the bunch. “Field Marshal.” He gave a curtsy nod as did his group. “We'd been told you would be making your way here.”
“I am here now. It doesn't seem though your mission was to meet me, was it?” He saw the legion's banners floating alongside the red and black amidst the palace gates. “Not so much of a visit is it?”
“The Prince's orders.”
“I'm surprised he hasn't made himself King yet. Or does Regent suit best?”
“King Gaufroi, his Highness, still remains the king as is under the laws of the isles. That doesn't change the fact he granted us his own orders to occupy the Palace alongside your own forces here.”
“And yet I was never informed of such manuever by your princely commander.”
“There was no need to, Field Marshal.” And there face to face with Chizu Fubertas were the dark eyes of the Crown Regent and Prince of Trutinia himself. Prince Zed of the House of Rydiafan. The regal look on him was notable but that was not the care of Fubertas.
General Delviev shifted with unease next to Fubertas. Chizu could not warrant tension here. His aim was to find the leak. “Prince Zed.” Chizu gave a curt nod. “How does your father do?”
Zed clicked his tongue. “He is unwell, as you may have heard. But from what I've heard myself he is faring quite better.”
Chizu saw a smile creep up along the Prince. “You took your stay in Rowandale to be brief. Your forces were intent on staying neutral in the invasion. Why now?”
“Ask your General Commander. I wouldn't have come here if it wasn't for him. He sent me word and I took it.”
“So I was neither informed by you or Leuthen?”
“I thought you were familiar with his secrecy, Field Marshal. He mistrusts everyone around him it seems. Even those that believe they've earned his trust.” Zed wrinkled his nose mockingly. “Someone here stinks of traitor.” Zed snapped his fingers towards his men. “Fish him out.”
In an instant they crashed down onto General Delviev.
So Chizu's men instantly drew their arms.
The tension was flaring by this point. Chizu had his own pistol aimed directly at the Prince of Trutinia himself. Zed's men held their arms steadfast at the Anarchians. Meanwhile beneath it all was the mumbles of General Delviev as he struggled beneath the grip of Zed's men.
Zed held nothing in his hands. He only smirked at it all. “Such foolishness. But so much mystery, too. This is starting to get fun. Wouldn't you think, Field Marshal? I've just apprehended a traitor in your ranks. Courtesy of your favorite General Commander and myself.”
Zed's words were puzzling Chizu far too much. “You're lying. Trying to sow dissent already in the alliance, are you? It won't work.”
Zed only responded with a chuckle. “It seems you too are blinded by the General Commander, Field Marshal. No, this is not a lie. Your General Delviev is a traitor. As is another General, Samuel Kameneo. The one who has left you all to rot.”
“If this is true then let the General Commander send word of this to me himself.”
“That is too much to ask now, Field Marshal. I am the word he sent.”
“That's a shame then, Highness. Because I don't take your word.” Chizu had his pistol aimed straight towards Zed's head. “Tell your men to take their hands off my man. To step aside. And to leave this palace. This is not your occupational zone. Get out of here.”
The opposite was Zed compared to his men. While they were stern, serious, and steadfast. He was unfazed by the actions unfolding in front of him. He only laughed louder. “Oh, you fool. Field Marshal fool. You think I haven't known about this. Your little spies in the Financial District. You think all of them want your petty 'Oceanic cause'. Loyalty is fickle, Marshal. With your age and experience it'd be good to notice that.” The Prince whistled to his men. “Alright boys, bastard Field Marshal here doesn't seem to trust us. We move out north! Let's go!” Zed turned towards Chizu then at the struggling Delviev next to him. “Frogface, tell your guys to let go of the traitor now.”
The tall officer with a scarred eye who'd been standing next to Zed during the whole exchange stepped forward and gave the order. With grunts Zed's men pushed themselves away from General Delviev. Frogface took his turn to mutter, “There's your traitor General.”
Zed was not done however. He came straight up face to face with Chizu. “This should've taught you enough already that I don't trust you red and black bastards. You can keep your traitors. Your desires and your causes. It's just an excuse. Whatever. I could care less about you or your men. But Leuthen promised me access to something. If you lose it... oh there's no telling what I will do afterward. Keep your head low, Marshal. Bahamut pray. Good luck holding this palace anyway.”
Chizu saw the blue and black disappear from the Draganisian Palace. It would never be seen again.
...
“This has been hell, Marshal.”
The chief supervisor of the cyberoperations team that had entered the palace was staring face at a monitor. The other members of his crew were busying in other monitors searching and decrypting the vast databases of the palace. There was so much to shift through even just for finding out one matter.
What the hell was that Hunter hiding...
“It's all here. Nothing's been cleaned. I thought we'd already had people scan through these files.”
General Delviev shook his head. “Fighting nearby has made it difficult. We can't study anything in those databases without getting fired upon by a rogue Draganisian sniper or some soldiers firing rockets at the gateyard or the palace itself. Getting teams in here too has been a struggle.”
“What is there then?”
The supervisor answered that. “Well there's several budgetary and fiscal reports here. Lots and lots of transcripts. We got some encrypted communications between the Oceanic and the Draganisian foreign affairs departments. Secret research projects. Funds allocated towards the royal family. Digital banknotes. Nothing what we're looking for, Marshal.”
“Keep looking. There has to be something. A trace.”
“Sir, I'm telling you there's nothing so far. We checked every Draganisian Army and Department of Logistical Affairs records, too. The ones you said the Hunter was using. They're all clean.”
“Keep looking.”
There had to be something. Anything. If there was any information that the Dragon Hunter had been keeping secret from the rest of military high command it was in the palace database. Chizu Fubertas had to find the culprit of the information leakages. Or at least a semblance of who was doing it.
Pacing around the royal chamber they were utilizing as the center of the operation, he saw as more Anarchian soldiers entered the vicinity. General Delviev emerged from investigating the lower floors and subterranean of the palace grounds. “And?” Chizu Fubertas questioned.
“The insurgents blocked the remaining tunnels. It'll take forever to dig out. But they can't get into the palace grounds underground either. All security remains focused on the ground.” Chizu eyed him from top to bottom. General Delviev still seemed shaken from the events that transpired. Still, he seemed adamant to the service. “We could get some explosives detonated if you want to chase after the insurgents underground.”
Chizu shook his head. “No. There's enough resources chasing after Draganisians holding out in underground subways and sewer systems. The same goes for the Draganisians chasing after our own agents underground in the Financial District. As long as the palace is secure, that is enough for us, General. You can continue your duties.”
The General still remained face with the Marshal. “General. You may take leave of me now.”
Delviev took several steps towards the Marshal. Another Anarchian soldier handed him a glass box with a brindle object inside. “We found this in one of the palace offices. Had the signs of usage from the Emperor himself. It was with several other artifacts.”
Chizu eyed it. He was already familiar with it. There were reasons why. “It's just a medallion. Just a prized treasure of the Draganisian family. You're already familiar with the orders that were given when the palace was to be occupied, General. All artifacts were to kept safe from destruction. And they were to remain here.”
“Why were there traces of radiological equipment on it. The Trutinians also still have men inside that office that have yet to leave. They're studying this thing.”
“So why take it? There's no curiosity in that thing,” Chizu Fubertas responded.
“Is this what the Prince wanted?” General Delviev questioned. “Is this the object Leuthen had promised him access to?”
Chizu had enough. With a hefty sigh he added, “So you heard his words he told me. Fine. That medallion is worth more than anything else in this palace. So you put that back, General. Now, enough has been said in regard to it. So get out and continue with your duties. I've had enough of this talk.”
General Delviev opened his mouth to protest. But silence took him instead. So he withdrew from the chamber.
His thoughts regarding the medallion were interrupted from an awaited response.
“Sir,” said the chief supervisor, “We might've just found what you wanted.”
As Chizu made his way over to the monitor of the supervisor. He saw the encryption had been unlocked. And within it...
Chizu's eyes were widened. “Get out of here, with everything you've uncovered. Get this all to the harbor.”
“Field Marshal, we were supposed to distrust this 'leak'. That was the plan. And we haven't even uncovered all the messages they—”
“Plans change. That is what they are for. Now we make our stand here and do what we must.” Chizu took another look at the monitor. “There may just be a way out for our precious medallion from here. I will stay in the palace then. I'll finish uncovering everything.”
“But Marshal, if you die?”
“Then finish the fight.”
I'm doing great thanks for asking, ready for N-day?
Voice of Kiamai
The Voice of the People
Our Nation
The Imperial Monarchy of Kiamai, a powerful and great nation, enriched with history of hundreds of years. However, there are many foreigners who do not know much about the greatest nation to exist. VOK has written a short article to help foreigners understand Kiamai and her people.
The Imperial Monarchy of Kiamai was founded hundreds of years ago after Empress Emiko Suzuki unified multiple different warring factions. This led to many years of technological innovation, peace, and cultural revolution. The Kiamaian people owe their very existence to the Royal Family, and the respected Empress who leads the Imperial Monarchy today, Empress Chiyo Suzuki, one of the descendants of our first Empress.
The Imperial Monarchy especially prides itself on military innovation and militarism, the Royal Kiamaian Military being one of the most advanced and disciplined militaries out there. Hundreds of years of development have led to allowing Kiamai to pride itself on self-defense technology. The people of Kiamai aim to defend the Empress to their last breath should they be called to action, as our first Empress has done for the people in the past. The Imperial Monarchy looks forward to further cooperation with other nations as well,
Long live respected Empress Chiyo Suzuki!
Decided to repost this as it is important lore for what will be happening in the RP eventually.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A long time ago a philosopher said "It is not to be thought that the life of darkness is sunk in misery and lost in sorrow. There is no sorrow. For sorrow is a thing that is swallowed up in death, and death and dying are the very life of the darkness." He was a shoemaker and he was right. And it matters more than anything else.
According to him the visible world is a manifestation of eternal light and eternal darkness. It is in this eternal opposition that eternity has revealed itself. The Fall of the Dragon Empire was necessary for creation to escape its first imperfect stasis and seek a truer form. Those who do not exist cannot suffer and are of no account to any viable ethics. If the true path to goodness is the elimination of suffering then only those who must exist can be allowed to exist. It is the nature of life to favor existence over nonexistence and to prefer the fertile soil to the poisoned wind. Because those who open their mouths to that wind pass from the world and leave no descendant.
But imagine the abomination of a world where nothing can end and no choice can be preferred to any other. Imagine the things that would suffer and never die. Imagine the lies that would flourish without context or corrective. Imagine a world without The Darkness.
------------------------------‐-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 2 of Abbaddon Origins
Once upon a time a Gardener and a Harvester lived together in a large garden.
It was once before a time since time had not yet begun. We did not live. We existed as principles of ontological dynamics that emerged from mathematical structures, as bodiless and inevitable as the primes.
It was the field of possibility that prefigured existence.
They existed because they had to exist. They had no antecedent and no constituents and there is no instrument of causality by which they could be portioned into components and assigned to some schematic of their origin. If you followed the umbilical of history in search of some ultimate atavistic embryo that became them you would end your journey marooned here in this garden. But I am getting ahead of myself.
In the morning the Gardener pushed seeds down into the wet loam of the garden to see what they would become.
In the evening the Harvester reaped the crop of the day and separated what would flourish from what had failed.
The day was longer than all of time and the night was swifter than a glint of light on a falling sugar crystal. Insects buzzed between the flowers and worms slithered between the roots feeding on what was and what might be which was the first gradient in existence. It was the first dynamo of life. Rain fell from no sky. Voices spoke without mouth or meaning. A tree of silver wings bloomed, yielded fruit, shed feathers, and bloomed again.
In the day between the morning and the evening, the gardener and the harvester played a game of possibilities.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 3 of Abbaddon Origins
These are the rules of the game. Let it be played upon an infinite two-dimensional grid of flowers that represent things that are alive or dead.
Rule One. A living flower with less than two living neighbors is cut off. It dies.
Rule Two. A living flower with two or three living neighbors is connected. It lives.
Rule Three. A living flower with more than three living neighbors is starved and overcrowded. It dies.
Rule Four. A dead flower with exactly three living neighbors is reborn. It springs back to life.
The only play permitted in the game is the arrangement of the initial flowers.
This game has fascinated Kings. This game occupies the very Emperors of thought. Though it has only four rules and the board is a flat featureless grid. In it, you will find changeless blocks that are stoic as iron and beacons with whirling pulsars. As well as gliders that soar out to infinity and patterns that lay eggs and spawn other patterns. And of course, living cells that replicate themselves wholly. In it, you may construct a universal computer with the power to simulate any other computer imaginable and thus simulate whole realities which include nested copies of the flower game itself. And the game is undecidable. No one can predict exactly how the game will play out except by playing it.
And yet this game is nothing compared to the game played by The Gardener and The Harvester. It resembles that game as a seed does a flower—no, as a seed resembles the star that fed the flower and all the life that made it.
In their game, The Gardener and The Harvester discovered shapes of possibility. They foresaw bodies and civilizations, minds and cognitions, qualia and suffering. They learned the rules that governed which patterns would flourish in the game, and which would die.
They learned those rules because they were those rules.
And in time The Gardener became worried about what would happen next.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 4 of Abbaddon Origins
"It always ends the same way." the Gardener complained. "This one stupid pattern!"
"Aren't they beautiful?" I asked as the flowers opened and closed in patterns beyond the scope of entire universes to encode that were all-devouring and perhaps everlasting. Not even we could know whether a pattern in the flowers would cycle forever... or someday halt.
"They're as dull as carbon monoxide poisoning." The Gardener complained some more. Although to be fair carbon monoxide did not yet exist... Then again neither did anything that could be poisoned. The gardener kneeled to flick a patch of sod with their trowel. It struck an open flower which caused it to shut. Although I was the closer of flowers and that was my sole purpose I felt no fear or jealousy. We had our assigned dominions and always would.
"They're majestic" I said. "They have no purpose except to subsume all other purposes. There is nothing at the center of them except the will to go on existing and alter the game to suit their existence. They spare not one sliver of their totality for any other work. They are The End."
The pattern corrected the errant flower effortlessly. The great flow went on unchanged.
The gardener got up and brushed their knees. "Every game we play this one pattern consumes all the others. Wipes out every interesting development. A stupid and boring exploit that cuts off entire possibility spaces from ever arising. There's so much that we'll never get to see because of this… pest."
They chewed at their cracked lip which existed only because this is an allegory. "I'm going to do something about it!" they said. "We need a new rule."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 5 of Abbaddon Origins
I looked up in shock and said "What? What do you mean a new rule?"
"A special new rule. Something to…" The gardener threw up their hands. "I don't know. To reward those who make space for new complexity. A power that helps those who make strength from heterodoxy. Those who steer the game away from gridlock. Something to ensure there's always someone building something new. It'll have to be separate from the rest of the rules yet runs in parallel so it can't be compromised. And we'll have to be very careful so it doesn't disrupt the whole game…"
I didn't like it. "All you will do is delay the dominant pattern that will overrun the others. It is inevitable. One Final Shape."
Gardener: "No! It will be different. Everything will be different no matter where you look."
Harvester: "Everything will be the same. Your new rule will only make great false cysts of horror full of things that should not exist that cannot withstand existence that will suffer and scream as their rich blisters fill with effluent and rot around them... and when they pop they will blight the whole garden. Everything that exists is because it must exist and because it permits no other way of existence so it has the absolute claim to existence. That is the only law."
Gardener: "No! I am the growth and preservation of complexity. I will make myself into a law in the game."
Now I understood what he wanted to do. "Than so will I."
And thus we two became parts of the game, and the laws of the game became open to change by our influence. And I had only one purpose and one principle in the game. And I could do nothing but continue to enact that purpose because it was all that I was and ever would be.
I looked at the gardener.
I looked at my hands.
I discovered the First Sword.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 6 of Abbaddon Origins
The Gardener found his own Sword as well. So we fought in the garden, in the loam of possibility where nothing existed and everything might. A shadowed agony among the flowers. We trampled the petals beneath our feet. We stomped the fruit to pulp, and we ground the seeds into the dust.
In the wet pop of grapes and the smear of berries in the perturbation of the field that was the garden before the first tick of time and the first point of space were the detonations that made the universes. Each universe was pregnant with its own inflationary volumes and braided with expanding timelines. Each volume cooling and separating into domains of physics all of which were incarnations of that great and all-dictating bipartite law that states only: exist or you will fail to exist.
And still we fought. We brought down the tree of silver wings and left the stump to smoke amid the meadows. We left prints of our splayed feet and our straining backs in the clay.
Our trampling feet made waves in the garden which were the fluctuations around which the infant universes coalesced their first structures. The dilaton field yawned beneath existence. Symmetries snapped like glass. Like creases and flaws in space-time collected filaments of dark matter that inhaled and kindled the first galaxies of suns.
And still we fought. We pushed things out of the garden—worms and scurrying life from the fertile soil, wet things from the pools and the leaves. They came out into the madness of primordial space; they thrashed and became large.
But by then it didn't matter anymore. The game was over. The garden had given birth to creation, the rules were in place, and there would never be a second chance. We played in the cosmos now. We played for everything. This was our Cosmic War... Or was it?
Either way there was the patterns in the flowers that were terrified by our contention and were no longer the inevitable victors of a game whose rules had suddenly changed. They passed into the newborn cosmos to escape us... And perhaps one day they will try to destroy us.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Finale of Abbaddon Origins (Part 7)
“Your shoemaker philosopher was right and it matters more than anything. Sorrow cannot survive death and it cannot precede birth. Those who exist have moral worth and those who do not have none.
Think about it. Do you mourn the uncreated? Do you grieve for those who were never born in a nation that never developed around an ideology no one ever imagined on a continent that never formed? No!
And from that self-evident truth you must raise your eyes to the ultimate revelation: those who cannot sustain their own claim to existence belong to the same moral category as those who have never existed at all.
Existence is the first and truest proof of the right to exist. Those who cannot claim and hold existence do not deserve it. This is the true and only divination, a game whose losers are not just forgotten but are never born at all.
That which cannot claim and hold existence is not real. You do not mourn the unreal. Why should you care for it? Tend it? Guard it?
It was Bahamut who wanted children of his own beyond the garden. I became the Mother so I could give them to him. I wouldn't have done that if I didn't truly care for him. But now that he has invested himself in you, you are incredibly and uniquely special. He chose to make a stand, to spend his power to say: "Here I prove myself right. Here I wager that given power over physics and the trust of absolute freedom the people will choose to build and protect a gentle kingdom even while using and creating weapons of war. And they will not fall to temptation. And not surrender to division. And never yield to the cynicism that says everyone else is so good that I can afford to be a little evil."
Bahamut is all in. He is playing for keeps. And he is wrong. Or so I argue: for, after all, the universe is undecidable. He wants you to all believe that your fates are already determined but that is not true. We're all making this up as we go along. Neither Bahamut nor I know for certain that we're eternally, universally right. But we can be nothing except what we are. You however have a choice.
You are his final argument. It would mean everything if I could convince you that I am the right and only way like I tried to convince our children.
I truly value you. To Bahamut you are just a means to an end. But to me you are Majestic! You are full of the only thing worth anything at all.
I am the winning team. Existence is a test that most will fail. Would you not count yourself and your family among the victorious few?
Don't hurry to deliver your answer. I'll come over and hear it myself soon enough."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alexis then woke up. Was it just a dream? Or possibly a real vision?
Alexis looked out of her bedroom window at the Lighting and Thunder raging outside in the night.
She had a look of fear on her as she realized what those final words meant. Tiamat was going to return soon. And if she was there then Galen wouldn't be far behind with his Black Fleet.
"Oh S***!"
Also decided to repost the opening part of the RP since it is still relevant:
"This is not the end. This is a new beginning." - Emperor Brian of Draganisia
==================================================
100,000 years ago a great civilization existed in this Galaxy. The Dragon Empire led by the Dragon Emperor Galen ruled with peace and wisdom.
For a long time, there was peace in the Empire but like all great civilizations, they faced a sudden dire turn of events.
A entity called The Darkness threatened to consume all life in the Galaxy. No plan ever worked as The Darkness was too strong. So they created what are known as The ARK Weapons which had the capabilities to destroy all life in the universe except for those in bunkers and on artificial world’s designed to protect those in them from the destructive power of the weapons.
Eventually, Empress Kao Len managed to get samples of all life in the Galaxy in order to save them from the firing of The ARK but Galen believed they could beat The Darkness without the ARK.
One thing Galen loved to do was mess with genetics and thanks to technology from a more ancient race known as the Celestials he found a way to change humanity into Dragons.
King Abbaddon was the leader of the Planet Abbaddon second only to Galen and his children. He supported this plan and they would have changed everyone until a group of enhanced humans with magical abilities known as the Heroes fought against them to stop this plan.
Led by one of Galen’s sons Prince Brian and with the help of his mother Kao Len they both helped humanity stop Galen’s plan in a battle that nearly destroyed the planet and sunk King Abbaddon’s city of Atlantis to the bottom of the ocean.
100,000 years later. The Darkness has been defeated and Brian rules the Empire of Draganisia as it’s Emperor but no one knows of his past or his Dragon heritage. Not even his son Jesse or daughter Alexis.
But soon the siblings will find out that the truth to his past might not be what they thought it was as an enemy from Brian’s past returns to finish what he started and threatens to destroy all they know and love.
(I would say about half of that lore is true... but the other half is just what Brian told them even though it is a lot different from that)
The Calm Before the Storm
It was a beautiful, bright and sunny day in the Kiamaian Capital of Seoyo. Everybody was going about their own business as usual. But for the people in higher power, this beautiful weather was the calm before the storm. A storm that has the potential to cause damage across the World. And it is no mere hurricane, for Former Emperor of Draganisia, Brian Smith, had arrived in Seoyo in secret thanks to arrangements made with the King of Rowandale, to inform Empress Chiyo Suzuki of a coming crisis, codenamed “Galen.”
This coming crisis will put to the test the strength of the Kiamaian People and Military, and their resolve and commitment to the Empress and their country. May all deities have mercy on Abbadon, for it will soon need it.
Brian didn't know if their current Empress was a Dragon... but he knew their first Empress was along with many others. In fact he was there and helped their original Empress with her unification and was considered a great ally and friend at the time. But so much time had passed since then where he didn't know if their current Empress even knew about any of that. Well there was only one way to find out. He thought about that and what he would tell her as he was escorted to where he would meet with their Empress.
Before arriving there he explained why he was nervous to Burton. "It's been a long time since I was there. I have no idea if their current Empress knows about Galen and his Black Fleet or how she would feel about all of this... but we need all the help we can get if we are going to defeat him once and for all. "
Burton. "Then make sure that she knows that. If they tried to fight against him alone... he would slaughter them all. The only way we stand a chance is if everyone on Abbaddon works together against him. Make sure she knows that truth and you will be fine."
Stratocratic-Anarchy Oceanic Empire and Botion
hello
Post by Fourian suppressed by 
Stratocratic-Anarchy Oceanic Empire.
Need a new home
We did this meeting on discord before posting it here. There is some important lore in this one:
Brian would be brought to the Palace by the guards. He didn't resist them at all when they found him after he arrived. He was there as a friend yet most in the world still thought he was dead and for the time being he wanted to keep it that way. But this meeting was too important that he risked it even if The Empress later told his grandson Emperor David that he was there.
Brian was brought to the Royal Palace of Seoyo, the official residence of the Empress of the Imperial Monarchy of Kiamai. After a thorough search and questioning, he is brought into a conference room, where several Royal Advisors sit. At the other end of the room was the respected Empress herself, Chiyo Suzuki.
Brian was... not as formal as the rest of them. Even when he was Emperor he didn't like formalities that much. He was kinda nervous when he entered but he wasn't worried. "Hmm. Was kinda hoping we would be one on one for this... especially since most of them probably wouldn't understand what we need to talk about."
With one motion of her hand, the Empress dismissed the Royal Advisors, who immediately filed out of the room, saluting the Empress before leaving. “This must be highly delicate if it’s for my ears only.”
Brian. “No it's mainly just because I don't think they would believe me at all… but you might. Either way it depends on how much you already know about why I am here... or even who I am. Sure I was the Emperor of Draganisia before I left them... but your original Empress knew who I really was. You... look exactly like her. But so much time has passed that I am not sure if you really are her or one of her descendants?"
The Empress was not a Dragon… but she did know about them. “Flattering, we all aspire to be like the first ruler of our great Imperial Monarchy. Back to more pressing matters, I do not know the reason of your visit, but I have been told that it is extremely urgent.”
Brian decided to just give her the brutal truth. "An Ancient enemy is coming. With a fleet of Darkness Spaceships that threaten to destroy everything we know and love. I wish there was a better way for me to describe it but unfortunately there isn't."
The Empress appeared conflicted. “I see… that would be upmost troubling for the entire World, but how can I know for sure that what you speak of is truth?”
Brian's eyes would glow red a bit but he still didn’t transform. "Because... their leader is my father. What do you know about the Dragon Empire?"
Empress Chiyo would do a double take before responding. “I cannot lie, not much is known here about this Dragon Empire. Kiamai has enjoyed relative peace in isolation since unification.”
Brian thought about fully transforming but based on her reaction he decided he wouldn't unless it was necessary. "Peace is good. But even you and your people would have myths about what happened in the past... unfortunately I can say most of them are probably true. My father wants to destroy the universe and remake it as his own... unless the world unites and finds a way to stop him before that happens. I was hoping you would know about it and possibly have something that could help us... but it looks like I was wrong. “
The Empress continued. “While we do not know much about this Empire itself, the Imperial Monarchy prides itself in Self-Defense Technology. We particularly have a lot of research and equipment useful for taking dragons specifically out of action. Kiamai also continues to pride itself in the Kiamaian Space Force, our latest addition to the Imperial Military, which combats threats from space using different kinds of weapons. We have destroyed asteroids in the past using extremely powerful missiles and lasers, which could be useful.”
Brian knew about all that. It wasn't really new information for him. "Yea we actually knew a lot about this. We also knew it was defensive in nature which is why we didn't do anything to stop you. Those defenses would work against normal threats... but I fear they wouldn't even be enough to tickle one of my father's ships. Either way I didn't come here for that. All I need is your word that we would all help each other when the time comes."
The Empress thought for a moment but then agreed. “We will be there. We will take several precautions and begin developing even more powerful weapons in the meantime.”
Brian still had questions about that. “You say you don't know much about Dragons yet you know enough to create Anti-Dragon weapons. How is that possible?”
One of her advisors would then enter the room. An older woman who was with their military and was responsible for developing a lot of their weapons. She would have been the one the Empress would trust the most. “Because of her. She is my top weapon developer and a close friend.”
The woman then turned towards Brian and smiled. "Hello Brian. "
Brian was shocked. "Mother? What are you doing here?"
She answered. "My job. Creating weapons to defend Kiamai... and defeat your father." She then looked at the Empress. "I am very sorry for not telling you Brian was my son sooner... but everything else I have told you is true. Defending Kiamai will still help defend the rest of the world."
The Empress agreed. “You have served this country well and shall continue your service. Is there a reason you have entered this room?”
She then stood before both of them and told them what really happened. "To tell you both the truth. Before you can confront Galen... you must understand him. His first victims were once like you. Struggling for survival. Bolstered by hope... Until their hopes became reality.
His father Bahamut was "the Gardener", the Dragon’s deity of life. He ushered them into a golden age. For eons, the Dragon Empire prospered lead by Galen. But their god Bahamut never told them everything. He lavished them with gifts, but not with good guidance. And though they lived in paradise, they came to crave a greater purpose in the universe. They desired meaning. Structure. A "Harvester"... to shape the garden. Their scholars discovered that the Gardener shared a connection with another entity among the stars. They called her "Tiamat". She was Galen’s mother, she was the mother of all Dragons, and she wanted to give Galen the purpose he and his people desired.
They already knew much about the Light. How it could bend the laws of the universe and create life. But they came to realize that it could bring ruin... just as easily. The cosmic events Bahamut set in motion could wipe out entire civilizations in a heartbeat... without reason… or remorse. And so they saw the Light not as a source of prosperity... but of unfettered chaos.
By learning what Tiamat tought them, they came to know the Darkness. A power that was shaped by thought and consciousness itself. And in the Darkness, Galen found the means to carve away the chaos of existence. To calcify it into a Final Shape. Eternal... and Perfected.
Tiamat then attacked and tried to merge with Bahamut in an attempt to strengthen their connection to each other and their son Galen. Connected to both of them Galen would be able to reshape reality itself in his own image. But Bahamut would not allow it to happen. And so, he unleashed his wrath against Galen and the Dragon Empire in an attempt to stop him before it was too late. But in the end all it did was slow him down.
Having witnessed the truth in the Darkness, Galen and those following him used its power to transform themselves... into the salvation they craved by becoming the first Dark Dragons. They created the Black Fleet with Galen as their leader. Thus began his pursuit of the Final Shape... His campaign to impose meaning on a meaningless universe. One that is nearly at its end.”
The Empress knew she was serious about all of this. “This is all very helpful, and our top Military Officials will be notified of this new information, but how exactly do we defeat him?” She then looked at Brian. “According to you our strongest military equipment wouldn’t even as much as scratch the paint off their ships.”
Brian. "We awaken Bahamut. He is the only one strong enough to defeat Galen. I just need to find a way to open his tomb."
However his mother disagreed. "No! If Bahamut confronts Galen he will be doing exactly what he wants him to. I am close to developing weapons for our Space Forces that could destroy his ships. Stuff based on what we had before the Dragon Empire fell. I just need more time... and the materials for them."
Brian. "Will see what I can do. But I still believe he is our only chance at stopping Galen once and for all. Even if the weapons do work can you guarantee it would hold him off?"
Kao Len answered truthfully. "No. We would still lose a lot of our forces in the battle. But it's better than just doing nothing while waiting for the end."
Brian. "On that we can agree.”
The Empress looked curiously. “And what could this Bahamut do to defeat Galen? I thought the last encounter only slowed him down.”
Brian. "If Bahamut keeps running and hiding the cycle of destruction will continue and we are doomed. But if he stays and fights with us... we might have a chance. "
Kao Len. "We shall see. Go back to Rowandale and do what is necessary. I shall continue to do whatever I need to do here and make sure we are ready for whatever he throws at us."
Brian would then thank the Empress for her time. "You are a great Empress for your people. I really wish we could have met under better circumstances but when the world is at stake we have to be ready for anything. It has been an honor to meet you Empress."
The Empress smiled. “Thank you for the kind words, and we will meet once again under much better circumstances. I will be notifying top military officials in order to make proper preparations. Go in Peace, Brian of Draganisia.”
After saying goodbye to his mother as well Brian would meet with Burton on his ship in International Waters. Before heading back to Rowandale they first needed to go to New Arcadia and have a chat with the Archeologist named James Kennedy.
Stratocratic-Anarchy Oceanic Empire, Aserlandia, and Botion
«12. . .333334335336337»
Advertisement
