SonindiaBoard

Aratsyn wrote:

Emperor Tigran of the Arats gathers an army of 450,000 to fight the Huns. This Army marches north to meet the Huns in battle. Meanwhile, Local militias are formed to fight the Huns in case they defeat the Emperor's Army. Local Lords gather their own armies and begin bitterly resisting the Hunnic advance. Fighting is brutal, but the Huns are able to defeat these Local Lords and push them back. However, For every city that falls and is destroyed, another sends an army of its own to fight the Huns. Ambassadors are sent to Ultior to persuade them to come to the aid of Aratsyn. If the Ultiorans accept it will mean war on a scale never seen before.

The Hunnic Advance continues to sweep across the hills and mountains of Aratsyn. The Huns leave a bloody trail of destruction and ruin in their wake as they march towards Lake Kevan in central Aratsyn. They seek to utterly destroy the lake cities there and to take control of central Aratsyn.

By now over 5 Million people have been killed in all the Hunnic conquests combined.

Welcome Pelneldor!

We are very glad to have you here!

New hunnic empire wrote:

The Hunnic Advance continues to sweep across the hills and mountains of Aratsyn. The Huns leave a bloody trail of destruction and ruin in their wake as they march towards Lake Kevan in central Aratsyn. They seek to utterly destroy the lake cities there and to take control of central Aratsyn.

By now over 5 Million people have been killed in all the Hunnic conquests combined.

New hunnic empire wrote:

Several Large armies are sent to the Illyrian Fronteir to fight the Ultiorans. Fighting in Illyria is much different than the war in Ultior. It is a war with a vast front stretching from thr western coast of the Balkans to the eastern Coast. Both sides struggle to take control of the endless expanse of hills and mountains of the Balkans as the war intensifies.

As the war rages in the North with the huns, another front is fought in the south. A full civil war has broken out in Cofrienolls as the mutineers of the Ultioran-Hunnic war fled south, ignoring the Sultan's orders, and began to surprise and conquer Northern towns, overwhelming, and the recruiting from the local garrisons. They declare themselves the Caliphate of Higher Cofrienolls, putting the general of the Sultan's military on the throne as Caliph against his will. As the final part of the Sultans army moves north, a large battle is surely on the horizon, and help will undoubtably be needed, as most of his army was destroyed in the Hunnic Campaign. The Sultan himself is with this force, and has sent out letters by camelback to Ultior, Aratsyn, and Britannicia requesting aid in this great battle on the horizon. One that will change the fate of Cofrienolls forever.

OOC: Depending on who helps, one side will win. I am letting it be variable.

Aratsyn wrote:

Sensing the urgency of the situation, The Crown Prince of Aratsyn arrives at Lake Kevan to rally the Arats against the Huns. He gathers an army of 150,000 with the goal of holding back the Huns while the main Arat Army marches to meet the enemy. The Crown Prince's Army mostly consists of troops that had been previously part of a Local Lord's Army. As a result, The troops are inexperienced and new to war. Despite this, The Crown Prince is determined to hold the line and push back the Huns. He will not go down with out a fight.

Meanwhile, Thousands of Arat civilians flee to the Great Peaks of Aratsyn, where to mountains are so tall that they can be seen from the coast of Aratsyn (In the west), for fear of being slain by the Huns. These civilians begin making the long journey to Mount Aryetin in Eastern Aratsyn. Aryetin is the tallest mountain in Aratsyn that also serves as a mountain stronghold that these civilians hope will safe from the Huns. They are right to hope as Mount Aryetin is the tallest mountain on the continent and the mountains of Aratsyn serve as an impregnable wall of jagged peaks that separate Aratsyn from the vast Eurasian Steppe and most importantly..... the Huns.

See my post edit for updated information

Greatest cofrienolls wrote:

As the war rages in the North with the huns, another front is fought in the south. A full civil war has broken out in Cofrienolls as the mutineers of the Ultioran-Hunnic war fled south, ignoring the Sultan's orders, and began to surprise and conquer Northern towns, overwhelming, and the recruiting from the local garrisons. They declare themselves the Caliphate of Higher Cofrienolls, putting the general of the Sultan's military on the throne as Caliph against his will. As the final part of the Sultans army moves north, a large battle is surely on the horizon, and help will undoubtably be needed, as most of his army was destroyed in the Hunnic Campaign. The Sultan himself is with this force, and has sent out letters by camelback to Ultior, Aratsyn, and Britannicia requesting aid in this great battle on the horizon. One that will change the fate of Cofrienolls forever.

OOC: Depending on who helps, one side will win. I am letting it be variable.

The Arats are too busy being invaded by the Huns to help.

Greatest cofrienolls wrote:

As the war rages in the North with the huns, another front is fought in the south. A full civil war has broken out in Cofrienolls as the mutineers of the Ultioran-Hunnic war fled south, ignoring the Sultan's orders, and began to surprise and conquer Northern towns, overwhelming, and the recruiting from the local garrisons. They declare themselves the Caliphate of Higher Cofrienolls, putting the general of the Sultan's military on the throne as Caliph against his will. As the final part of the Sultans army moves north, a large battle is surely on the horizon, and help will undoubtably be needed, as most of his army was destroyed in the Hunnic Campaign. The Sultan himself is with this force, and has sent out letters by camelback to Ultior, Aratsyn, and Britannicia requesting aid in this great battle on the horizon. One that will change the fate of Cofrienolls forever.

The Nagathars, though not called, have a small Naval Fleet, with expeditionary soldiers, floating off the coast (and exploring the coast) of Cofrienolls. Soon enough, they dock, and send a small light-armour army to fight the Caliphate of 3,000 strong. (I mentioned this fleet a while back for my exploration story arc).

Again, long post. If someone could tell me how to do the short thing, then do telegram me.

War, that most devastating of all beasts, whose black wings scrape the faces of the families, whose spiked claws bleed the hearts of villagers and citizens, whose cold fire rips through the meadows and forests, whose shadowy poison seeps into the waterways, whose devastation and terror sweeps through once-peaceful lands, tearing father and son, splitting mother and daughter. It had come to Ultior, it had come to Sonindia, and now it was here, in the heartland of honor, the pillar of prestige, the center of chivalry, Aranwar.

The Nagatharians had defended well; their swift, long-oared vessels skimming the waters, boarding the invaders’ foul vessels with their shining axes and unbent spears, the curved blades flashing in the noon sun as red blood spurted, staining the black decks with a sticky fear. Even as the raids of the Nagatharians succeeded, for ten they felled one of their men joined Hades – and their numbers fell quickly. A gap in the armor here, a thrust towards the horsetail helm there, and soon the force had become food for the fish.

When news reached the Aranwarians that their allies, those feared Nagatharians, had been destroyed several kilometers off the coast, a flurry of preparations had begun the likes of which had never been seen. In a night every corporation and every laborer gathered at the coastal cities, and by the same time the next day a long, low, wooden palisade had been built along the beaches: merely two meters tall with small holes periodically placed, it was an effective deterrent to any invasion by sea.

For several nights a tension hung over the nation’s cities, as a band stretched to its limit; the nation was stressed to breaking point, as the calm before the storm grew ever stormier. Yet in this time, bunkers and temporary forts were set up, dotting the Imperial War Map with the small circle of a bunker and the small square of a fort. Troops were pouring in to fortresses and camps daily, the massive peninsula shaking with the marching boots of the legions of Aranwar, every metalsmith worked to hone weapons to a glorious shine, and every stronghold strengthened its walls. Squadrons periodically patrolled the coast, and the Imperial Aranwarian Navy, their banners fluttering in the sea breeze and their crew a paragon of virtue and military might. And lo and behold, on the fifth day since the building of the Great Coastal Barrier, black sails were seen across the horizon, as a black wall that moved every closer. The beating of drums signaled doom as the outline of ships came drew ever closer, and within an hour the flags could be seen: two deathly pale sabers upon a ghostly crown, set on a background of the purest obsidian. They were not a band of raiders, nor a group of vagabonds: this was a grand coalition intent on destroying Aranwar.

As the Supreme Command of His Imperial Majesty Aranwar’s Armed Forces looked over their forces, arrayed in battle formation. The Emperor, atop a tower overlooking the Imperial Palace, looked at the men who stood before him: the Imperial Lord Admiral, the Imperial Lord Engineer, and Imperial Lord General. These were the three most singularly powerful military men of the Empire, operating under the Imperial Divine Commander himself, the Emperor of the Empire of Aranwar – and they knew that each of their forces, superbly trained, spectacularly armed, and well-trained, would never allow these barbarians to conquer the majestic land of Aranwar.

The black storm drew ever closer, and for what seemed like eternity, Aranwar’s Armed Forces made not a single sound – no clink of chain mail, no rattle of the sword, not even a horse neighed. Then, an Imperial Scout sounded a long horn: the Battle for Aranwar had begun.

Aranwar wrote:

Again, long post. If someone could tell me how to do the short thing, then do telegram me.

War, that most devastating of all beasts, whose black wings scrape the faces of the families, whose spiked claws bleed the hearts of villagers and citizens, whose cold fire rips through the meadows and forests, whose shadowy poison seeps into the waterways, whose devastation and terror sweeps through once-peaceful lands, tearing father and son, splitting mother and daughter. It had come to Ultior, it had come to Sonindia, and now it was here, in the heartland of honor, the pillar of prestige, the center of chivalry, Aranwar.

The Nagatharians had defended well; their swift, long-oared vessels skimming the waters, boarding the invaders’ foul vessels with their shining axes and unbent spears, the curved blades flashing in the noon sun as red blood spurted, staining the black decks with a sticky fear. Even as the raids of the Nagatharians succeeded, for ten they felled one of their men joined Hades – and their numbers fell quickly. A gap in the armor here, a thrust towards the horsetail helm there, and soon the force had become food for the fish.

When news reached the Aranwarians that their allies, those feared Nagatharians, had been destroyed several kilometers off the coast, a flurry of preparations had begun the likes of which had never been seen. In a night every corporation and every laborer gathered at the coastal cities, and by the same time the next day a long, low, wooden palisade had been built along the beaches: merely two meters tall with small holes periodically placed, it was an effective deterrent to any invasion by sea.

For several nights a tension hung over the nation’s cities, as a band stretched to its limit; the nation was stressed to breaking point, as the calm before the storm grew ever stormier. Yet in this time, bunkers and temporary forts were set up, dotting the Imperial War Map with the small circle of a bunker and the small square of a fort. Troops were pouring in to fortresses and camps daily, the massive peninsula shaking with the marching boots of the legions of Aranwar, every metalsmith worked to hone weapons to a glorious shine, and every stronghold strengthened its walls. Squadrons periodically patrolled the coast, and the Imperial Aranwarian Navy, their banners fluttering in the sea breeze and their crew a paragon of virtue and military might. And lo and behold, on the fifth day since the building of the Great Coastal Barrier, black sails were seen across the horizon, as a black wall that moved every closer. The beating of drums signaled doom as the outline of ships came drew ever closer, and within an hour the flags could be seen: two deathly pale sabers upon a ghostly crown, set on a background of the purest obsidian. They were not a band of raiders, nor a group of vagabonds: this was a grand coalition intent on destroying Aranwar.

As the Supreme Command of His Imperial Majesty Aranwar’s Armed Forces looked over their forces, arrayed in battle formation. The Emperor, atop a tower overlooking the Imperial Palace, looked at the men who stood before him: the Imperial Lord Admiral, the Imperial Lord Engineer, and Imperial Lord General. These were the three most singularly powerful military men of the Empire, operating under the Imperial Divine Commander himself, the Emperor of the Empire of Aranwar – and they knew that each of their forces, superbly trained, spectacularly armed, and well-trained, would never allow these barbarians to conquer the majestic land of Aranwar.

The black storm drew ever closer, and for what seemed like eternity, Aranwar’s Armed Forces made not a single sound – no clink of chain mail, no rattle of the sword, not even a horse neighed. Then, an Imperial Scout sounded a long horn: the Battle for Aranwar had begun.

A lone camelback explorer, a wanderer peers over the horizon. He was exiled from Cofrienolls years ago for refusing to be conscripted as a soldier, left to wander the barren landscapes of the Middle Continent. He had searched for the walled city of Sonindia, but to no avail. Now, he was making his way to Aranwar, as he had heard from the horse tribes which roamed the steppe of the landmass. He was coming down the mountains, and into the Empire of Aranwar, but all he saw below him was slaughter. These paranormal dark invaders landing on the coast of Aranwar. Their near dead and deformed faces, and strange black glow sent shivers down his spine. He had never though such a thing existed.

He turned his camel around, and began to ride up the mountain once more. But before he could reach the top, he was ambushed. The darkspawn floated out of thin air, materializing around him, letting out horrifying shrieks. One pounced at him, knocking him off his camel. Then, they grabbed him. Despite his wails, they were too strong. Unfazed by his desperate attempts to escape. To escape as they began to eat him alive. Does Aranwar even know what they are fighting against? To be continued...

Insertmemehere wrote:

I wish I hadn't named my nation something so stupid now. Any ideas for a possible new one?

Well, its a shame really. You are losing out on literal tens of millions in terms of population growth, but if you start a new nation today it'll wont be too far behind. How about Irania, or Seratya, or Bradford, or Celtia? Or Austrialia? Tell me something significant to you and I can come up with something better...

Insertmemehere wrote:

I wish I hadn't named my nation something so stupid now. Any ideas for a possible new one?

I, personally am pretty satisfied with my nation name.

New hunnic empire wrote:

The Huns begin their attack on the Crown Prince's Army in the Morning as the sun rises over Lake Kevan. 60,000 Hunnic Troops begin a massive attack on the Arat flank. The attack drives back the Arats at first however the attack is halted and fighting begins to swirl around the fields near Lake Kevan with no side gaining the upper hand.
Hmmm.... Why not base your new nation off of a culture from the past? For example, You could make a Hun themed nation, a Mongol themed nation, or even a Roman themed nation.

I think it helps if your nation has a culture, because that makes naming it easier.

The Arats pour reinforcements into the area being attacked by the Huns. As a result, The battle bogs down into a stalemate. Arat Morale soars as they know that if they can hold off the Huns long enough, the main Arat Army will arrive and defeat the HUns for once and all. The Crown Prince is slightly less optimistic and sends a surplus of messengers to the Arat Emperor to hurry and bring his Army to Lake Kevan.

o ya just put me some where on the rp map I don't care where as long as I have a coast