Don't you mean die Kaiserliche Marine? :)
[36 hrs after the terrorist attack in Altenburg, Loftegen 2 ]
"Grau 1, 20 kilometers to the border of Loftegen 2". Maintain radio silence from now on, report back when you've landed at LZ Alpha" "Affirmative, Gold 1. Radio silence now, will report from LZ Alpha".
The F77 transport shuttle designated "Grau 1" on this mission was one of the latest aerospace projects of the Imperium, and already had to prove itself so shortly after introduction. Built around a powerful lightweight fusion reactor, the blocky design looked anything but aerodynamic. But it didn't have to be, the raw thrust delivered by its ion engines was sufficient to keep it in the air and even reach orbital velocity. The flight from Leonism had only taken 3 hrs despite the 30000 km distance travelled. Now the F77 had slowed down to subsonic speed and dropped from suborbital flight to just a few hundred meters above ground, sinking even further still as they approached their target.
On board were 50 imperial citizens, half of them dedicated special forces soldiers with the rest being mainly counter-intelligence agents from SPAB. All of them were checking their gear. The special forces from 1229. Sonderstaffel wore camouflage, while the agents wore what was deemed typical streetwear in Loftegen 2.
The shuttle crossed the border into Loftegen at tree level, hoping to avoid radar detection. The hum of the ion engines made it less noisy than helicopters or planes, and it was early morning so hopefully nobody would see the silhouette of the craft in the dark, as it flew over sparsely populated woodland.
Grau 1 landed in a clearing of the forest, 30 km from Altenburg and upstream the river Ohm. The SPAB agents disembarked and within minutes had prepared two inflatable rubber boats on the nearby river. After a last, quick exchange with the commander of the Sonderstaffel, they made their way towards Altenburg on the boats. The soldiers would stay put and be prepared to come to the rescue should the operation go awry.
The goal was simple: Find out more about Altenburg and its people, investigate the terror attack and find out how imperial rifles got here and if any imperial citizens were involved. SPAB had found out more about Altenburg's ruler Lady Zaharra and wanted to avoid her wrath, especially since supernatural forces seemed to be at play that the scientifically minded Imperials could not get their heads around.
"Gold 1 for Grau 1, the package has been delivered ".
No, despite the native language of Leonism being German, we're not one of those thousands of Kaiserreich ripoff countries in NS, and the word "imperial" does exist in German, albeit with a different pronunciation. The full name of our navy is Imperiale Kriegsmarine, and if you want to differentiate from other "imperial" navies then you could elongate that to Leonistisch-Imperiale Kriegsmarine to add Leonism into it.
We don't have a Kaiser so things aren't kaiserlich in the Imperium. :)
I love that idea Perchan!
I guess it would make sense for different nations to have different names for bodies of water so finding a regional-esque title for them might be a bit hard. Hmm... I like Leonism's thought of naming bodies of water after the animals of a nation nearby it although I don't know if folks everywhere would be into something like that. :P And we'd have to decide which nation's animal to name it after! ...Possibly folks around the bays could try to think of an animal that lives in all of their nations and use that? just suggestions idk... It's getting late and my brain is dead from losing at league of legends x.x
Anyway, on that note: What is your national animal? Why is it significant to your country? :)
(I actually need to think of a different national animal.. I picked the "kangaroo" at random when I founded Imaginary but it really doesn't fit into my nation's lore anymore! unless I want to do a plot twist and turn your imaginary friendians into circus folks... that might be fun...hmmmm)
West Regional Aerospace Defense Center, Loftegen 2.
"Sir," a radar tech said, addressing the officer of the watch. "I have, er, I had something on my screen that you might want to look at."
The officer crossed the control room to the tech's duty station. Her job was monitoring the Anti-Ballistic Missile radars that kept watch on the westerly skies for signs of hostile activity.
"What do you make of this?" she asked, replaying data from a minute or so ago.
The officer stared intently at the trace on the screen, playing it back several times. "It's not a nuke, and it's not a meteor," he said, frowning thoughtfully.
"Re-entering spacecraft?" the tech suggested.
"Maybe, but we'd have been notified of an emergency, or if an old piece of junk was going to be coming down." He made a decision, returned to his desk and picked up a telephone. After a brief pause he began to speak to the person on the other end of the line. "Yeah, we tracked an unusual de-orbit. We don't know what it is, but seems to have landed in the Koseth National Forest near the western border. Yes, get some recon flights up, to search for an impact point." He hung up.
And so it was that four Recognizer R.6 reconnaissance planes took off from their base and flew in the exact opposite direction from the foreign aircraft that had entered Loftegen 2 airspace, in a fruitless search for something that didn't exist.
I guess re naming of rivers, bays and seas, the same rules as in real-life apply, meaning that different people will name the same body of water differently.
What the English call "English Channel" is called "la Manche" in France and "Ärmelkanal" in German.
Of course if we want to write the names on the map, we'd still have to agree on which of the local names to use...
Regarding the national animal, the Blaumeise is a real-world songbird going by the somewhat ridiculous English name of "blue tit", and its Leonism's bird since pagan times, when they were regarded as bringers of good fortune. Despite the widespread secularism, their ancient religious meaning has left them highly revered and they are really cute to look at. I choose them mainly because I really like these birds. If you observe my RP posts closely, you will often find references to small songbirds, usually by their German names.
"Grau 1, Gold 1. We've picked up some aircraft launches from a military airbase, but they are heading the wrong way. Keep calm, we think you might have slipped in undetected as planned. We have a squadron the new R44 heavy fighters on standby to bust you out if needed. But remember, we want these people to not even notice us and we mean them no harm!" "Gold 1, Grau 1. Understood. Let's just hope that their witch-queen stays on the Altenberg and doesn't suddenly teleport into my back-seat...Grau 1 out."
The pilots looked at the empty back seat in the cockpit, then at each other. Ever since the mission briefing everybody had been talking about Lady Zaharra and what she could allegedly do. She was the one factor in this mission that the Imperium seemed to have really no control about.
The national animal of Perchan is the local variant of brown bear, the Perchanian Bear. It has been in use as a symbol since antiquity by the ancient Barsch peoples who modern Barschan Perchanians descend from. Its use as a symbol of Perchan was officially recognized in 1954.
Perchanians also happen to be named after the Perch in various translations, but the Perch is also way less cool than a Bear.
Ministry of Justice, Capitol Square, Altenburg, Loftegen 2
Justice Minister Jarret Kale was sitting at his desk, beind the closed door of his private office, reviewing information about the terrorist attack in George Nicholas Square when he became aware of a presence in the room. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and a shiver ran down his spine.
Turning his head he saw Lady Zaharra sitting in a chair along the side wall, her face expressionless, her black eyes gazing at him dispassionately.
"There's a door, you know," he said, gesturing at the fixture in question.
Lady Zaharra grinned. "I know," she said, her voice showing traces of actual warmth. "I also know what happens when I just walk down a corridor full of people who aren't expecting me to be there."
Minister Kale nodded in understanding. "Fainting, anxiety attacks, catatonia, the odd person dropping dead from sheer terror..."
Lady Zaharra chuckled. Minister Kale had met the Lady often enough that he was almost unfazed by either her sudden appearances, or her thoroughly unnatural eyes.
Her face went serious again. She handed him a thumb drive, and a small box that he was fairly sure hadn't been there a moment ago. It was full of thumb drives.
"What's this," he asked.
"Transcripts of the memories of the prisoner I took. You'll find a great deal of useful information in them, and you can hand the rest out to reporters at your noon press conference," Lady Zaharra said.
Minister Kale stared at the Lady, his mind whirling with question he wasn't sure he dared to ask.
Lady Zaharra smiled again. "Yes, I said memories; no, you don't want to know; yes, there will be enough drives for everyone; and no, she won't be standing trial." She paused. "I also consider this matter closed: they were acting alone. The transcripts will show that." Then she flickered and disappeared.
Minister Kale rang his secretary. "Agnes," he said, "Alert the media that I'll be holding a press conference at noon. Why? Because she told me I was."
(For an excerpt of the transcripts, follow the link below.)
Jessa Dareth fidgeted in the front passenger seat of the van her friend and teammate Zebba Krynn was driving through the streets of Altenburg, capital city of Loftegen 2. Zebba, just barely out of her teens, was only a few years younger than Jessa, and should have been back in Zolarand looking for a husband; not here, doing what the six of them were about to do. So, for that matter, should she. But The Light's will was The Light's will; there was nothing to do but obey.
Jessa glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes met those of her twin brother, Darro, who gave her a reassuring smile, which she returned. Beside him sat Torath Gavv, a Treadwellian who had given up the ways of his homeland and embraced the teachings of The Light. Torath was a good man, oldest of all of them, almost enough so to be their father. Torath smiled at her as well; a fond, slightly sad, but proud smile.
In the back seat of the van sat two more young men: Karro Kwyn and Wyryn Zelweth, another Zolarander, and a Sepharist respectively. They were the youngsters of the group, just nineteen years old each, and despite their devotion, looked just a little bit nervous. That was understandable, given that no matter what happened in the next little while, this was to be their last day in this world of shadows.
Like Jessa, her five companions each carried an adjustable fire Imperium of Leonism army carbine, smuggled out of one of that nation's arsenals by fellow devotees, along with ammunition, explosives, and other gear that would, hopefully, cause Loftegen 2 to blame the Imperium for what was about to happen, thereby triggering a war that would destroy not only Loftegen 2, but the Hell-spawned Witch that ruled it.
That was part of why Jessa was fidgeting. Not because she was about to die; everyone did that eventually, but because underneath her long coat she, like all the others, was wearing a vest covered in plastic explosives that had been coated on their outward facing surfaces with thousands of half centimeter ball bearings. The vest was heavy, hot, and uncomfortable. It also made her look fat. That was her vanity talking. Vanity was a sin, to be sure, but The Light was nothing if not merciful and forgiving.
They rolled up to one of Altenburg's many public squares, this one named after some long dead prime minister, or some such. That didn't matter. What mattered was that it was a fine but chilly autumn afternoon. People in long coats wouldn’t look out of place. The square was also packed with people going about their daily business. Zebba found a spot near the square and parked the van. The team climbed out, taking care to keep their weapons hidden, for the moment at least. They gathered at the front of the van.
"You all know your parts, as I know mine," Jessa said. Not all of their weapons were hidden; the megaphone she held was in plain sight. The others nodded silently. "Until we meet again in The Light," she added solemnly.
"Until we meet again in The Light," they repeated.
"On our way then," Jessa said, and she and her companions headed into the square. At the center was a small statue of the square's namesake. The statue's stature was why they had chosen this particular square: it was barely as tall as she was, and so would offer little cover. That, and the fact that the statue was a popular spot for people to get up and speak their minds. Hardly a day went by, their research had shown, that someone wasn't standing next to the statue, haranguing passers by.
Fortunately the statue was unoccupied at the moment. Blessing of The Light, no doubt. Jessa stepped up onto the low dais the statue stood on, and raised the megaphone to her lips. The rest of the team spread out in a circle around the statue, maybe five meters from it.
"People of Altenburg!" she said, her voice sounding weird as she heard her own amplified speech. A few people noticed her right away; most of the others were looking around to see where the sound was coming from.
"People of Altenburg!" she repeated. "People of Loftegen 2!" More folk were looking now, and some in the throngs of passers by were beginning to gather in front of her. She circled the statue slowly, casting her voice in all directions, repeating the call several times.
"People of Altenburg, people of Loftegen 2! I am a Soldier of The Light! Hear my words!"
More people stopped, grouping up to listen. Listening to the advocates of strange cults and minor religions preach the virtues of their beliefs was a popular form of entertainment in Altenburg. She repeated herself a couple of more times, waiting as the crowd grew.
"Hear my words!" she said again. It was time, she judged; the still gathering crowd was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to begin the sermon they were sure was coming. The earnestness on some of the faces almost made Jessa wish she had a sermon; she might have been able to save a few souls.
But she had no sermon for these people, only judgment.
"The wrath of The Light is upon you all! For daring to bend your knees before the Witch, you must be chastised! For bowing down before the very spawn of Hell itself, you must be punished!" She paused, looking at the crowd. Nobody looked afraid, yet, only puzzled. Hopefully, that was about to change.
"Today, now, you must die!"
With that Jessa dropped the megaphone, and she and her team threw open their long coats, revealing what was hidden underneath. She raised her carbine to her shoulder, charging it and setting the safety to three round burst in one fluid motion. Here, now, almost more than anything, she wanted to see sinners realize that the Time of Burning was at hand. She took aim at a random member of the crowd, an old man, and started to squeeze her weapon's trigger. People were turning, beginning to try to flee to safety. That was when someone stepped out of the crowd and in front of the old man.
If you had told Jessa that a single spoken word could be at once soft as a whisper, and loud as thunder; as hot as a blast furnace, and colder than the heart of an iceberg, she wouldn't have believed you. Now she knew otherwise. The shadows cast by the afternoon sun deepened, even as the sun seemed to dim in a darkening sky.
"The Witch," Jessa whispered as she watched the black clad, dark haired, dark eyed, ghost pale ruler of Loftegen take a place directly in Jessa‘s line of fire. She found herself frozen, unable to move a muscle, not even enough to finish pulling the trigger.
The Witch was clad in tattered, shroud-like garments that fluttered in a non-existent breeze, as did the hair not covered by the hood she wore. Her eyes, black as The Void, started at Jessa out of a face so pale that it wouldn't have looked out of place on a corpse.
The Witch glanced to the left, Jessa's right. Her brother Darro was standing there, well within her field of vision, turning toward their enemy, even though she still couldn't move even her eyes. The Witch raised her left arm and pointed at him.
He exploded. Not in the blaze of incandescent gas and lethal shrapnel that his vest would have created, but in a shower of shredded flesh, blood, gore, and shattered bone.
The Witch's eyes met Jessa's again, then glanced to the right. Torath. The Hellspawn raised her right hand. A slender white finger pointed. Torath went down in a shapeless heap, and Jessa somehow knew and felt his agony as every bone in his body splintered into a thousand pieces.
The three surviving members of her team came charging around the statue. Jessa wanted to scream, to tell them to run away instead. Zebba appeared from the left, Karro and Wyryn from the right. The Witch looked at Zebba, and her black eyes flashed with Hellfire. A ribbon of orange light blazed across and through Zebba's body, leaving her still and gray, like a statue. Then she fell apart in a swirl of ashes.
Karro was shooting from the hip as he ran forward. It was pure spray and pray, and Jessa knew he would be lucky to get even a few hits from his thirty round magazine. Or so it seemed at first, for as Jessa watched, every bullet seemed to strike The Witch in the torso, before emerging from her back and falling harmlessly to the ground.
The Witch's right hand shot skyward, and so did Karro; it swept down again, and Karro slammed head first into the pavement.
Wyryn, apparently having figured out that shooting was pointless, triggered his vest. Time seemed to slow for a moment. Jessa watched the vest ignite, saw Wyryn’s body begin to disintegrate, saw ball bearings flying out. The Witch held up her left hand, fingers open, then made a fist. It was as if someone had reversed a video; the nascent explosion ran backwards, and Wyryn was crushed into a mass of bloody goo.
The Witch returned her gaze to Jessa, a cruel smile upon her lips. Time returned to its normal speed, but Jessa still couldn't move. The cries of the fleeing crowd filled the air; they didn't know yet that they were no longer in danger. Stepping up onto the dais, The Witch put a thin, bony, icy cold hand around Jessa‘s throat.
"Let's go somewhere we can talk," The Witch said, her voice almost friendly, and yet completely not.
Everything went black.
When she could see and feel again, Jessa found herself lying on some kind of table in a room lit by hundreds of candles. An arched stone ceiling rose above her. Her head was resting on a soft, comfortable pillow, and she found she could move again, at least a little. Her gear was gone. So, in fact, were the clothes she had been wearing. Instead, she was clad in what seemed to be a gown of white silk. Jessa turned her head to one side. The room she was in was richly decorated, and reminded her of a chapel. Turning to the other side, she found The Witch standing over her. Jessa started at the black pits that were The Witch’s eyes.
“Comfy?” The Witch inquired.
“Go to Hell,” Jessa replied.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” The Witch said, chuckling. She actually smiled, and for some reason Jessa found that deeply unsettling.
“Did you come here on your own, or did someone send you?” The Witch asked, the smile gone as suddenly as it had appeared.
“Go to Hell,” Jessa repeated.
The Witch bent forward, her eyes locked on Jessa‘s. Her face was so close to Jessa’s that Jessa could see that The Witch’s eyes were not, in fact, pits of pure blackness. It seemed she actually had irises, because while they were totally black, Jessa could just make out the outlines of pupils.
“It’s obvious from your actions that you and your friends came here to commit mass murder,” The Witch said. “I know you come from Zolarand, and that you were trying to start a war. I can see that much in your mind. Now, did you come here on your own, or did someone send you?”
“Go to Hell,” Jessa said once more.
The Witch straightened, her eyes still on Jessa‘s. “This can be easy, or it can be hard, but one way or another, I’m going to get answers out of you.”
“The Light is with me, Witch. I fear neither death, nor you,” Jessa said. “Do your worst, I won‘t tell you anything.”
The Witch nodded. “I admire your courage, and your devotion to your god,” she said, with what seemed to be complete sincerity. “But I don’t need you to tell me anything.” The Witch reached for something out of Jessa’s line of sight. It turned out to be a hemispherical device, a brass framework covered in dials, tubing, valves, switches, and other things Jessa didn’t recognize. The Witch placed it on her head and struck a pose, like a model at a fashion show, then removed the device. She held it so Jessa could see the interior, and touched something on the side. A dozen needle sharp spikes extended themselves into the interior of the device.
“Now, will you answer my questions, or would you like me to demonstrate my memory extractor?” The Witch asked.
Loftegen 2's national animal is the Black Ram, the male of a subspecies/variety of bighorn sheep known as (wait for it!) Black Sheep, because of their black wool. Legends say the Black Sheep were created by Lady Zaharra, but that isn't true. They're native to Loftegen 2 and were there long before the Lady showed up.