WA Delegate: The Confederate Empire of Sheng China (elected )
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Embassies: The Order of the Grey Wardens, Ivory Tower, Arconian Empire, Solidarian Fleet, The Illuminati, Sunalaya, Nationalist Commonwealth of Free Regions, The Western Isles, Empire of Andrew, Aels, Nova, The Warden World, Union of Nationalists, The Bar on the corner of every region, League of Sovereign Nations, Sikh Empire, and 22 others.The United Coalition of Nation States, Non Aligned Movement, New World Union, Free Coalition of Governments, Homelands, The Alliance of Dictators, Eastern Roman Empire, Imperial Fatherland, Regionless, Dauiland, The Embassy, The NewsStand, Turkic Union, Council of Islamic States, The Great Region, SECFanatics, The Great Universe, Lardyland, Asia, Global Industrial Union, Mahakam, and Gypsy Lands.
Regional Power: Moderate
Today's World Census Report
The Fattest Citizens in Asiana
World Census takers tracked the sale of Cheetos and Twinkies to ascertain which nations most enjoyed the "kind bud."
As a region, Asiana is ranked 20,977th in the world for Fattest Citizens.
|1.||The Conglomerate of The Phantom Syndicate||Father Knows Best State||“The world must burn for it to be born anew.”|
|2.||The Kingdom of Aspfall||Anarchy||“Ultio Et Fama”|
|3.||The Empire of Japan Airlines||Father Knows Best State||“Tokyo to Sydney”|
|4.||The Republic of Theodossia||New York Times Democracy||“We Will Endure”|
|5.||The Military Democracy of Central Europa||Iron Fist Consumerists||“War and Peace go hand in hand”|
|6.||The Protectorate of Jin Sheng||Father Knows Best State||“父債子還”|
|7.||The Borderlands of Tsaire||Father Knows Best State||“Where We Will We'll Roam”|
|8.||The Holy Empire of Greater Corea||Democratic Socialists||“All Hail Corea! (대한제국 을 위하여!)”|
|9.||The Federation of The Democratic States of Ablya||Inoffensive Centrist Democracy||“Let justice be done, though the Heavens Fall”|
|10.||The Stratocratic Empire of Greater Polaris||Father Knows Best State||“There are Strong, There are Weak but Nothing is Static”|
- : Erusea glavny ceased to exist.
- : The Protectorate of Jin Sheng arrived from The West Pacific.
- : The United Empire of Argent updated the World Factbook entry.
- : The Imperial Sovereignty of Hwarangkoku arrived from Lazarus.
- : The Imperialistic Military of Outpost Crimson arrived from Osiris.
- : Erusea glavny arrived from Osiris.
- : The Confederate Principalities of Turokhan arrived from Lazarus.
- : The state of jin ceased to exist.
- : The Confederate Principalities of Turokhan ceased to exist.
- : The Imperialistic Military of Outpost Crimson ceased to exist.
Asiana Regional Message Board
Just give a heads up when you're settled down. I plan to officially annex my claimed territory in the near future but I've always been more into reacting to conflicts than starting them. Otherwise good luck and take care of yourself. Glad to know that nobody died. :)
Chono Khot, Khanate of Tam Amisgal
Just because the war in the north Caucasus had ended over a year ago, did not mean that the lust for blood and carnage had subsided or satiated for the hordes. The success in the Caucasus brought in some much needed new looted capital to Amisgal. But the horde only got a taste of what the whole pot had to offer and they wanted more. Batzorig, Great Khan of the Amisgal, was more than willing to give it to them. If anything, she was the most hungry for it out of all.
Great cauldrons with roaring fires lite the massive gathering hall within the Palace Yurt Complex of the Great Kahn. Long tables bursting with various roasted meats and overflowing dishes of foods. Fruits and vegetables piled high. The hundred heads ofthe various clans that made up the hordes of the Khanate filled the room sitting and feasting on the banquet while looking to front of the hall. At the front of the hall sat on a multi tiered platform a great throne. It's base wide and made of white stone. The back was a great bronze eagle with its wing stretched up to the heavens. Two terrible bronze wolves acted as the arms of the chair. In the chair itself laid a large red cushion to sit upon with leopard and lion pelts throne across the back of the seat. Lounging stretched out unceremoniously in the throne laid Batzorig, Great Khan of the Steppe.
Sitting on either side of the Khan there were young beautiful scantily dressed women. One served the Khan liquor from a golden pitcher while the other held a plat of meats. Batzorig hungrily snatched a chunk of the red meat from the offered tray and popped it into her open maw which barred her white teeth and sharpen k-9 teeth. A few chews and she swallowed it whole with a loud audible gulp. The woman Khan then grabbed the pitcher and began to swallow down the burgundy red wine that it held. Satisfied she let out a great sigh of contentment as she placed the pitcher back on the servant girls tray.
Once free, the hand she had used snaked its way down to grab a handful of the girl's largely exposed behind. The young woman squeaked in surprise which got a chuckle out of Batzorig. The girl blushed bright red and let out a whisper of a moan as the Khan kneaded the plump flesh as her other hand trailed up to the servants chin to draw her face closer. The Khan chuckled with a lustful hungry smile as the other girl who bared the meat tray had discarded her burden and was now crawling her way over the Khan for attention as well. Before the Khan could take things any farther with the two young women now in her lap, Batzorig was distracted by the loud and angry throat clearing that came from next to the throne. Batzorig looked over to see the tall and very unhappy Altan looking down on her with disgust and crossed arms. The stern foreign beauty and leading Elder of the Clan gave Batzorig a sharp nod towards the filled room of clansman. Batzorig sighed with a pout before relenting. Returning her attention to the voluptuous ladies in her lap Batzorig said, "Hold on to those thoughts ladies. I've gotta go be the leader."
To the distress of the women, Batzorig carefully disentangled herself and stood up with a stretch to her full height of 6'4". Altan continued to watch with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. Two male servants approached carrying Batzorig's weapon and staff; a great polearm with a black crescent blade of damascus steel. Batzorig took the weapon with no effort and dismissed the servants. Smacking one of them on the rear with wink and flirty meow. When Batozrig's eyes foind the intense gaze of Altan again she quickly lost her smile and was quick to right herself to march forward. With the blade upright, Batzorig dropped the polearm so that its pummel metal would strike the stone stage. The sound of the strike reverberated throughout the room and cut through the noise of chatter and party. She rose and dropped it again to strike the ground to cut through the room. The large hall soon began to quiet as they heard the striking of their master's 'gavel' to call the room to order.
When the attention of the room was brought to Batzorig she gave them a bright and toothy smile before calling out, "My brothers and sisters! My kinsman and countrymen! Enjoying the food?!" Batzorig called out and received a cheerful ovation from her people."And the booze?!" She raised a large pitcher of golden beer which the room raised their own various liquors in a thunderous cheer. "Having a good time?!" They repeated with fervor their ovation to the Great Khan. Batzorig belted out a great laugh. "And who you got to thank for it!?" She asked the crowd who in turn cheered her name to the sky above so loudly it shook the entire complex. "Damn right!" The hall laughed and drank as the Great Khan joined them, taking an offered pitcher from a servant.
After drinking her pitcher dry in a short few full gulps Batzorig threw the vessel over her shoulder where the servant caught it before it could smash. "Now I know you bunch of fat, drunk, and horny bastards better than any other people in the whole world because I'm a drunk horny fat bastard myself!" The crowds cheered in laughter and agreement to the Great Khan's words. "And because I know it, at this rate we'll have eaten, drank, and screwed our way through our loot and plunder in no time. So the time has come to get our collective arses off the benches and into the saddles." The room agreed with her with hardy chuckles and boisterous 'here heres'.
"And I gotta tell yeah, I ain't just got the itch for more gold in my pocket, food in my belly, and pretty ass in my lap. The battlefield is calln me, my brothers and sisters! Been idle too long and my ears miss the sound of the battlefield. I know you're all feeln it too!" Batzorig called out again to receive earthquaking applause, shouts, and stomping of feet from the assembled warriors.
"We are the descendants of Temujin! Chinggis Khan and his mighty Khagan! We are their successors and are therefore owed the damn world! It is our birthright to take what is ours and that is the world. The world was promised by Chinggis Khan and we shall take it!" More thunderous uproar shook the complex as the clan heads all rose in cheers and applause. "You have sworn your clans to me as the new Great Khan of the Steppe on the promise of a new Khaganate. It is time to take the next step on our path to the world!"
"Gather your clans. Sharpen your weapons. Prepare your mounts. The march of the horde shall quake the earth! To victory!" She bellowed as she thrusted her heavy polesword into the air which was followed by the raising of her subjects own weapons who exploded into cheers.
Over the next few days Batzorig's call rang out throughout the steppes and plains of her Khanate's domain. Within a few days the hordes of the Amisgal were beginning amass and form. Their movements shifting and maneuvering so as to poise themselves toassault the first two targets that the Great Council of the Khanate had named; the North Caucasus and Turkmenistan. To pacify these regions would open the gates to even greater and wealthier regions. Like the lands of the Rus in the north along the Volga and great ancient Persia to the south.
The Khanate will take its rightful place among the superpowers of the earth. To be respected and feared the world over as the terrifying force it is. They have been biding their time and building their forces watching from the sidelines as the world changed and shifted around them. Now was the time to move and carve their place into history.
Imperial Obelisk, Zevezda
Angelika Batran, Imperial Lt. General, slips earmuffs on as she enters the firing range of the Great Obelisk. She scans the room and finds two adult men watching as three teenage boys stand in their own firing lanes; two of the black hair teens had semi-rifles while the white hair boy held a sniper rifle to his shoulder. The boys aim their weapons down the long empty firing range to the dummies and silhouettes at the far end and gently pull their triggers to fire. A thud to each fire was all that Angelika could hear through the earmuffs. She watches as it appears that the boys were hitting their targets except for the smaller white hair boy.
Angelika hears a beep in her earmuffs before the smooth familiar voice of Deraj speaks, "Well done, draga mea." She identifies the speaking figure who speaks toward the two black hair boys. Then turning to the lane with the white haired smaller boy. "Decimus." The voice calls as the tall lean figure of the Emperor approaches the white hair boy and crouches down beside him at the younger male's level.
"You're improving but your aim is still hesitant. You need to control your breathing. We'll do more weight exercises to help you hold up your rifles." Deraj places his hand on the boys belly. "Breath from here. At the top of your breath you will feel a stillness. That is when you fire. Try." The boy nods his head and follows Deraj's instruction while the man still held his hand to the teens stomach. Decimus took aim and began to take in air slowly. Just at the top of his breath, Deraj whispers 'fire' and Decimus did just as instructed. The head of the restrained man at the end of the open firing range is slammed back with great force as the back of his skull blows out on the wall behind him . Deraj purrs before planting a soft kiss to the boy's temple. "Well done, Decimus. My little puii." The boy purrs in return to the affection and softly responds, "Thank you, sursa."
The Emperor rises up ruffling the white hair of the teen before he walks over to the black haired boys. The two boys at about the height of Deraj's chin have stepped away from their firing lane. He reaches out with his arms with a proud smirk as he takes them into his arms. "Well done! Very well done." He runs his hands through the moppish heads to pull their bangs from their faces to place soft kisses to each their foreheads. He looks at the end of the firing gallery to see the bullet riddled corpses of two men bleeding out with blood spray on the back wall. "But, you would both aim better if you pulled your mops from your eyes, draga mea."
The boys laugh as they lean into the touch. The taller of the two boys lifts up his head to look at Deraj, "Sursa?"
"Can we try explosive rounds!?" Dacius eagerly asks with a smile brimming from ear to ear with two teeth missing.
The request is then followed by the other boy with an equally large smile also missing some baby teeth, "Pleeease, sursa! I know for a fact that Decimus wants to try too!"
Deraj looks to see Decimus having approached them quietly and taken his spot next to his brother. "Is what Darius said, true Decimus? Would you like that as well?"
Decimus eyes grow wide and he nods excidely with affirming hum. Darius is quick to speak again, "See! See Decimus does too! That's three votes!"
The Emperor looks at each of the boys' faces before he snickers with a smile. "Very well. Andrik." He looks at the other man who has been watching from a short distance away, "As Range Master, would you please give the puii some time on explosive rounds?"
Andrik Koze, former and disgraced Marshal of the Republic of Argent, nods his head smiling. "Yes, your majesty. I would be more than happy to instruct the little princes."
Dacius and Darius jump and cheer loudly, dragging their brother Decimus forcefully into the jubilation. They quickly scramble to follow after Andrik as he walks off to the armory to prepare for the next course. Along the way speaking into a radio ordering the firing range they just used cleaned and another few prisoners brought to the next range.
Turning, Deraj looks at Angelika with his steely ethereal eyes. "Lt. General, to what do I owe your interruption?"
Angelika swallows hard before she salutes the Emperor with a hard click of her heels and an outstretched arm before chanting, "Hail to the Emperor." Deraj returns the salute with a raised hand.
"A thousand apologies, Emperor. I have a report from the Grand Marshal's office." Lt. General Angelika announces.
"What is it, Lt. General?" The Emperor gestures for Angelika to follow him as they head towards the other end of the firing range room.
"Scouts and satellites are showing a great movement within the borders of the Khanate. The mongols are amassing their forces and moving on their borders." Angelika reports as she pulls out a data pad that shows several satellite images of huge camps moving over several days exposure.
Deraj releases soft, but animalistic growl in his throat as he looks over the images with his sharp and scrutinizing eyes. "The hordes are on the move? That is troublesome." He looks over more of the images. "Batzorig is a dangerous warlord and not to be taken lightly. She lives up to the reputation of her mongolian ancestors."
Angelika takes back the tablet from the Emperor as he moves to stroke his chin lightly in thought. She looks behind his shoulder to see the corpses being dragged away by men while another crew with hoses begin to blast down the blood soaked walls. The Lt General dares to look back at the Emperor's face. His sharp features are accentuated by the floor lights of the firing range giving him an almost otherworldly visage. Made haunting by the dull reflective glow coming off of the Emperor's right eye to match the sharp steely eye on the left. A pleased tone, like a tigers, rumbles from deep in Deraj's chest.
When those haunting eyes shift to look at Angelika suddenly she takes a step back as if startled. She takes in a breath to calm herself, "What is your command, your majesty?"
After a short inquisitive glance over Angelika he instructs her, "Inform the Grand Marshal to put the Ukrainian Army Group on the ready for defensives maneuvers along the eastern border." He methodically instructs. "I want regular updates on their movements."
The Emperor's attention is drawn away from Angelika by the sound of a small explosion from the otherside of the vast room. A sinister smirk begins to etch across Deraj's face that is then followed by a deep sickeningly pleased chuckle. He eyes the young boys and Andrik at another of the shooting galleries using explosive rounds. Angelika eyes widen as realization dawns on her again what the target of those explosives round would be.
"Now go and make my will be known." The Emperor instructs dismissively with the wave of his hand. "I've a show to watch." He saunters off with a sickeningly pleased smile.
Angelika snaps back to reality and clicks her heels together as she straight arm salutes the Emperor with the chant, "Your will be done. Hail Ylad." She turns to quickly exit and report his orders to the Grand Marshal to avoid his sinister ire. When she steps into the hall and pulls off her earmuffs Angelika exhales a breath she did not know she was holding and sucks in air again to her burning lungs. It takes a few moments to gather her composure over the scene she had just witnessed. When she finds her nerves calmed enough she is quick to her feet to run down the hall and deliver the Emperor's order.
To the Grand Prince and Grand Protector Sheng Wei,
It is my honour and privilege to accept your offer to visit Beiping, the capital of your ward-state. My aunt and I will be arriving on the Hwarangkoku Air Cruiser Jinbei on the XXth of April, 20XX. Your hospitality and willingness to work with myself and my fellow countrymen humbles me, and I await the opportunity to make your acquaintance with bated breath.
His Imperial Crown Prince,
Li Yun-Seong Joseon-ui
In the year following the end of the war against the treacherous Prince Tamar and his League of Allied Forces, Turokhan has gone through a transformative time period.
The introduction of new territories to the nation has forced the Royal Congress to accept new states and representatives to the chamber which has wreaked havoc upon the traditional balance of power. The dissolution and division of the Kingdom of Kartli prompted the raising of several new lords and houses to power. The inclusion of the former Kingdom of Caucasian Albania and northern Armenia brought with it their regional nobility to be represented in the Congress who are not aligned with the traditional Greek and Turok schism.
The political upheaval with the addition of these new variables has lead to a scramble of the traditional factions to try and recruit the newcomers; often involving the approval of funds, both private and public, being poured into efforts to buy loyalty through reconstruction efforts. The old factions also attempt to hold their own against the formation of new factions. New factions which have begun to drain the numbers of the old factions as once distant borderland groups are now finding themselves with new neighbors to draw strength from for more attention.
As a political institution that once only met on a monthly basis the Royal Congress now has been forced to meet twice a week to deal with the challenges faced with both the demands of the added populations and the increasing demands of the Turokhan base. For it is not only the Congress that has been affected by the changes.
The conclusion of the war opened many new avenues and insights to the people of Turokhan. A people that have traditionally been shut off from the rest of the world and kept to themselves and their cultures are now experiencing new things. The addition of the people of Kartli, Albania, Armenia, and Caspian Sea into the Confederacy has brought with them new foods, clothing, cultures, and ideas. The same occuring with the now far more open trade with Tam Amisgal from the East; bringing much the same but also wonderful new technology and even more exotic foreign cultures and ideas.
The opening of Turokhan to the world and its people's fascination with the exploration of it has brought about the beginnings of a new cultural and ideological movement within the nation. The people learning of the world outside of Turokhan are now demanding even more openness with the world and more openness at home. With the world to compare itself to the Turokhani people are realizing just how far behind they have become in the world because of the political squabbling, ignorance, and greed for power of their lords. Thus their demands have begun to grow louder and more resolute for change.
Such a movement within the borders of Turokhan has come to frighten many of the ancient ruling elites of the land whose grips on power have gone unchanged for many hundreds of years due to traditions and policies. Suppression of local movements for the opening and modernization of the nation by the nobility have become increasingly common. The result of which has brought about more violent and widespread protests along with a growing schism among the nobility throughout the nation on the matter at hand.
The schism has lead to the formation of two new factions; one representing the retention of conservative traditional policies and values vs the faction calling for the opening and rapid modernization of the nation. The Conservative Faction is lead by infamous Greek factionary linchpin Adrian Gauras while the New Age Faction is lead by none other than Grand Prince Basil himself. The factions vi for power over the houses of the nation so as to influence the legislations within the Royal Congress in either the protection of conservative institutions or the introduction of progressive policies.
Turokhan remains froth with political and ideological tension as its various factions and powers wrestle for control of the nation's soul in this new era that it has been thrusted into.
Despite having been the sight of the climactic battle that ended the war between Turokhan and the traitorous Talzit Tamar, the ancient city of Baku has been recovering swiftly. The famous thick walls of the city, decimated by the destructive force of the Tam Amisgalian siege artillery, are well on the way to being fully restored. The scorch marks of the looting fires have been scrubbed away.
The new lord of Baku, Sahjhan Zahari, has poured his own wealth into the city along with attracting investors from within and outside of Turokhan. The opening of Turokhan to at least Tam Amisgal has allowed the Turok prince to flaunt the potential in investing in a city of his.
Sahjhan enjoyed the sight of the recovering city from the tall tower of his new palace within the city. Dressed in fine fiery red and dark black silks that drapped on his lean form, he sipped a golden cup of wine looking out at the Caspian Sea and along the coast to the north of the city.
Captain Saka, the young man that leads the personal guard of Prince Sahjhan approaches him. "My lord, there is a report." He says while kneeling to Sahjhan.
"The Amisgal are on the move?" Sahjhan predicts his captain's words in a silvery warm voice.
The young captain is without words for a moment as the Prince had stolen his. "Y-yes, my lord."
"I can see far from this tower. A great dust cloud has blown over the Sea and I can almost feel the rumble of thunderous footsteps coming from the north. I know they are moving. Preparing a new great conquest." The Prince surmises aloud to the captain.
"Yes, the Great Khan of the Steppe has declared her intention to sack the remainder of the Caucuses and Turkmenistan."
Prince Sahjhan hummed to himself before taking another sip of his wine. "Send this information to the Grand Prince and the Royal Congress. Along with the knowledge that we should be prepared. Even as allies...they are dangerous to all around them when in blood lust." The Prince finished speaking as he stares into the far distance with a thousand mile stare as if attempting to watch the Amisgalian movements.
(ooc: I moved the capital to the city of Shenyang as it is more central for administrative purposes.)
To the Imperial Crown Prince, Li Yun-Seong Joseon-ui
It is with the greatest joy that I receive your correspondence and welcome your arrival to Shenyang joyously.
I and the citizens of the Empire await your arrival with jubilant anticipation.
Imperial Grand Prince and Grand Protectorate General
Sheng Zhang Wei
Shenyang, Capital of the Protectorate of Jin Sheng, Sheng China
On the outskirts of the city, Chancellor Kim Hwasang and Imperial Lord General Guo Jian, await the arrival of the Hwarangkoku delegation at the Shenyang Airport. The airport is currently nearing completion after having been under construction for the past two years to replace the airport built by the Choson which had been largely destroyed during the collapse of their empire.
The immense airport, the size of which was to rival most of even China proper's largest airports, was built in the shape of a pinwheel with 8 outstretching wings and a golden roof. Designed so as to accommodate as many aircraft as possible while also accommodating airships.
One of the wings of the airport has been cleared of flights and passengers and has been designated to be the arrival point for the delegation. In the wing the Chancellor and Lord General waited with the arrival party. The imperial standards of both nations were displayed together throughout the complex either being held by flag bearers or hung along the walls.
The senior of the two men, Chancellor Kim Hwasang stood anxiously as he waited the arrival of the delegation.
The youthful Lord General Guo Jian snickered watching the older typically somber and well kept together statesman pace and rub his hands. "First time meeting foreigners, my lord? Or first time meeting royalty?"
Pulled from his thoughts, the Chancellor turns his attention to Guo Jian, "Hmm?? Oh oh. Apologies, Lord Guo. No I have met foreigners. I am just still getting used to meeting royals. The Grand Prince, is so graceful and yet approachable. And I come from relatively humble origins. The cadet branch of a house belonging to a now defunct empire. Half Chinese and Half Choson. Now meeting foreign royalty whom may be much less gregarious and accepting as the Grand Prince."
The younger man smiled softly before patting the Chancellor on the back. "Deep breaths. Hwarangkoku is a dear ally of the Empire and will respect Sheng's representatives. No matter their origins."
Guo then let out a chuckle, "On top of that, let's just say the Hwarangkoku are not much in a position to judge others as they themselves keep to rather racey traditions and policies." He patted the Chancellor's back again, "So nothing to worry about, Chancellor. Now pull it together before someone lets slip that the stern Chancellor of Jin Sheng has a nervous streak about him."
At that, Hwasang's eyes widened slightly to look around as he strained himself to stand at his full height. His concerned features replaced with his traditionally muted expression.
An attendant approaches and informs the Chancellor and General of the approaching Hwarangkoku Air Cruiser Jinbei. The General nods and calls to the guards, "Show time." In unison the guards shift to their straight tight formations at attention; standing like statues in their black and cyan blue traditional armor.
The dock at the end of the wing of the airport is raised and ready to receive the weight of the Hwarangkoku Cruiser. The airspace is cleared except for three Air-Destroyers to act as escorts to the delegation ship.
From the Shenyang Air Traffic Control tower a call goes out over the airwaves, "Hwarangkoku Air Cruiser, Jinbei. You are cleared to enter Shenyang airspace and as well cleared to land at the southeast wing Airship gate."
Border of the Khanate with North Caucasia
The sun's light breaks over the horizon of the pontic steppes, revealing from out of the shadows the Great Horde of Tam Amisgal. In the days new light the 100,000 Amisgalian soldiers with just as many and more of the infamous animal mecha stood tall and at the ready, having advanced onto the border region in just 3 weeks.
At the center of the army group on top of a wheeled stage, is a huge golden roofed yurt. Each corner of the stage waves a large flag of the Khanate. Surrounding the golden topped yurt are several smaller yurts on their own mobile stages. 2 other mobile stages also surround the center yurt, but hold no yurt. The two stages hold instruments and musicians. Throughout the army group on the back of the support mecha animals are large speakers systems. On top of the same support mecha are also large screen tv displays. The images on the tvs show a large wood and stone throne sitting before the door flap to the large yurt.
From the yurt flaps bursts out Great Khan Batzorig in her traditionally styled battle armor. Although looking like leather and hide armor from centuries ago the armor is sectional carbon fiber wrapped kevlar allowing for mobility. She holds her famous great polesword in hand with a great toothy smile on her lips.
"My kinsmen! Are you ready?" She screams out to them as she takes the mic. The thousands of soldiers shake the earth as they stamp and cheer in return. "The world is our oyster! Promised to us by our ancestors. Now lets take it!" She cheers again like a rockstar on the stage.
With the Great Khan's declaration the giant drums on the other platforms start being struck rhythmically at fast pace. The percussion resonates in the chests of everyone around them and is passed along to the giant speakers found throughout the army group. The unmistakable tunes of the morin khuur play through the air as other instruments come shortly after. A hard rock compilation plays over the speaker system as throat singing joins the words. Soon enough the soldiers begin singing the rhythmic chant of the music as they begin to march forward. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jM8dCGIm6yc
"Unleash hell!" Batzorig declares loudly. She is soon followed by the trumpeting of the elephant mechs of the army group who bellow into the sky to signal the start of the march.
The thousands of soldiers and mecha cross the border into the North Caucasian region without care to any boundaries between states and nations. They sweep over the steppes like a tsunami as they overrun border fortifications and several borderland towns and villages. The Amisgalian battle line stretching over hundreds of miles.
The wealth, or what they can find in the towns and villages, is quickly plundered. Walls detonated. Towers toppled over. Smoke rises from the fires that pockmark the landscape showing the trail of the hordes as they march. Those that resist are shown no quarter. Those that are wise to surrender find themselves to be in the benevolence of the Great Khan who only asks for tribute in exchange for all their lives along with town or village leader's daughter or son to add to her extensive harem. Otherwise, little lis left to ones who so foolishly resist the Khan's might and the hordes will.
Just as the pillaging and conquest in the Caucuses begin, a second Tam Amisgal horde lead by clan Elders Vachir and Unegen has already moved south into Turkmenistan laying waste to their border fortifications and sacking their towns and villages. The bulk of the hordes remain away from the actually cities so as to draw out the main bulk of the local defensive forces. Destroying these forces before moving onto the cities will allow for much easier occupation and looting.
Imperial Obelisk Complex
The sounds of youthful laughter and shouting carried on the wind as it blew through the massive private park belonging to the Imperial Obelisk Complex. A large group of teenage children are obviously attending a gym class on the track and field within the park. Teenagers run, jog, or slowly walk the track. Others stand in the field at the center of the track doing exercises or laying and enjoying the sun. Among the students Dacius can be seen jogging the track with a group, Darius is surrounded by a group of students that chat and laugh with him as they sit on the grass, and Damianus runs the course alone.
Emperor Deraj observes the field through a magnified feed projected against the window within the Obelisk. By using gestures with his hands, Deraj is able to move the focus of the image and the magnification as he looks over the boys. He smiles seeing Dacius and Darius interacting with other students happily. He looks over Damianus and notices how he is alone as usual. The Emperor's brow furrows in concerned thought but they lose their tension after he notices how Dacius and Darius routinely keep an eye on their brother.
Please with his observations, the Emperor waves away the magnified images and turns away from the windows to rejoin the group of figures standing in the room speaking among themselves. Deraj's open long black scale patterned coat billows gently behind him to reveal the velvet blue material of its inside. The velvet shimmers into various shades of blue and is speckled in white to give the illusion of a starry night sky. The long coat frames the black and purple deep v cut vest of the same design that shows the Emperor's clavicle and chest where a three string topaz and sapphire necklace rests.
The gathered figures quiet as the Emperor approaches. He ignores their staring eyes to look over the world map being projected on the table that they are surrounding. It shows the nations of the world but of course highlights the notable nations of power. He notices how there are fewer than there once was a decade ago. While for the most part this would be seen as a great advantage in projecting global power to a lesser leader, Deraj knows better.
"The world is beginning to get less crowded." He announces to the room. "The powers of old are nearly gone and what has come in their wake is broken and lesser. This poses a threat."
"His Imperial Majesty is of course correct." Director Avar steps forward to address the other members of the Imperial Administration as he played with his manicured mustache. "We cannot afford to be isolated on the world stage. We have China, but it's not enough."
Director Victor Draculesti gave a short chuckle in his throat, "Time to make friends while we still have some to choose from?" He joked sarcastically.
"But who, your majesty?" Director Racovita asked while he cleaned his monocle piece.
"The situation in the Caucasus is too tense at this time." Director Avar declared.
"The time isn't right for them. Not quite." The Emperor says as he stands tall and looks over the entirety of the map before him. His steel colored eyes land finally on North America. "Polaris..."
Director Draculesti scoffed, "Of what use could they be? They're an entire ocean away. Why would we bother?"
"Polarians are Europeans. They speak a form of Latin. Militaristic society. Largely untapped market. Already on good terms with the Chinese. They check off a lot of boxes." Director Avar listed off with the other Directors nodding in agreement.
The Emperor's long fingers drummed against the table, "More importantly, in the event that the Konstantinyans are to come about into a resurgence on the global stage we will need a counter weight against them. Polaris will need one as well. Together we effectively box the Konstantinyan Empire. They would not be able to retaliate against one without the other being at their backdoor."
The room of Directors nodded and announced their agreement with the Emperor. Deraj then looked at Director Avar who stood at attention to receive the Emperor's orders. "Establish contact with Greater Polaris. It is time to strike up a conversation with our North American cousins."
Director Avar saluted with a fist over his heart and a bow of his head, "By your command."
. . . . . . . .
As Director Avar and several other directors stepped away and exited the room with their aides an alert appeared on the table top display of the world. Deraj waved his hand over the alert which opened with a text bubble that then directed onto the map. The image on the table magnified focusing on the Caucasus region.
Noticing his Emperor focusing back on the table, Director Draculesti approached and looked over the image himself. He watched as the graphics showed a more detailed relief of the region. The graphics of the image then began showing moving arrows to show directional movement. Dozens of arrows appeared on the map. Some arrows large and others small. The arrows indicated military movement and their sizes the size of the force moving.
It came as no surprise to Victor Draculesti when he saw the largest and greatest movement coming out of Tam Amisgal and into the Caucasus region. The intimidating size and number of arrows penetrates deep into the region. However, further south Victor notices the same indication of forces moving north seeming intent on meeting the invading Amisgal. The arrows rising up are from Turokhan which teems with activity as forces move towards their borders. His eyes then take note of indicators showing where Argentian forces have been amassed near the border with Caucasia as ordered by the Emperor a week ago.
Victor snickers looking at the situation. "The Amisgal are pillaging." He notes as he walks around the table towards the Emperor. "The Turoks are moving." He points out as he moves. "And our borders are heavily armed." He finishes, coming to a stop with only few inches between himself and Deraj. "This is shaping up to be quite the explosive powder keg." Victor claims as he pulls a cigarette from his long coats breast pocket. He then pats himself searching for his lighter.
Deraj hums in agreement, "And all it will take to detonate the charge is a little...spark." The flourish of fire's light erupts in the room from the unmistakable snap of a lighter that Deraj had deftly produced from his own pocket. He lifts the fire to Victor's lip held cigarette, lighting it. He then brings the lighter to his own face where he has placed a cigarette in a long thin holder between his lips; lighting that cigarette too. Deraj inhales deeply and releases the plume as he chuckles sinisterly with Victor as they look at the map of the world.
. . . . . . . . .
The Imperial Plaza at the center of Zevezda is once again filled to the brim with the cheering masses of Argentian citizens. They all face toward the new imposing structure to join the megastructures that crown the Plaza; the Great Temple of Argent. The immense complex had its central component modeled off the Pantheon of Rome with a massive column face that acted as the entry to the vast dome structure behind it. The arcades stretch out from the flanks of the temple to surround open courtyards with altars at their centers. Marble low staircases ascend to the Temple level from the ground of the plaza to make the Great Temple tower over higher than the other structures of the Imperial Plaza.
At the top of the straicase directly infront of the Temple a podium stood. The steps leading to the podium were guarded by Imperial Guards every few steps with flag bearing lances at the ready. The crowd would cheer as their Emperor Deraj Ylad approached the podium. The Emperor shined and glimmered in the day light from his gold accented white gown. The low open collar and top exposed his firm porcelin chest where a star shaped jewel rested from a jeweled necklace which matched the gold tiara crown that rested on his head; standing out brilliantly from the black locks of his hair. The outfit was framed by a long cloak from the shoulders with a shimmering golden inside. The outfit put any other religious vestment whether Pope or Patriach to shame.
The crowds cheers were abated by the Emperor as he raised his hand to calm the crowd. When their ruckus had simmered he cleared his throat and called out to them.
"Citizens of the Empire!
Today marks the anniversary of the darkest day in Argentian history. Our nation will long bear the scars of such a wretched day. The mass slaughter of hundreds of our nation's leaders and civil servants along with their families in the Phantom Massacre. The massacre which lead to the collapse of the Republic Government and the successive civil chaos that resulted.
However, today is not a day of sadness and mourning. Today will serve as a day of honor and remembrance. From the ashes of such chaos our nation has risen again. For we, the Argentian people, are resolute and strong.
Therefore in commemoration of the lives lost in the great tragedy and to serve as a place of healing and contemplation, we dedicate this Grand Temple of the Gods, built by the hands of we survivors, in their honor.
This Grand Temple will house each of the gods and goddesses of Argent who look upon us with their favor; who will be with us in our solace and in our triumph. The names of the lost are dedicated on the bricks of the very walls of this temple so that they will never be forgotten and always be among our prayers. Forever idolized alongside our gods as martyrs of the nation.
Long may the martyrs be remembered. Praise be to the Gods. Long live Argent!”
The crowds saluted and chanted back ‘Hail!’ with fanatical fervor as the Emperor received the standing and thunderous ovation.
The Polarian Homefront, in the West Denver City Primary Military Complex
The sounds of high quality welders and smell of fuel, metal and gunpowder filled the air, though this was standard for the mechanized district in low to moderate amounts, one would probably feel that the smells and sounds were so intense lately that they were nigh palpable, multiple servicemen and mechanics having joked about taking a dull knife and being able to 'cut the smell' right out of the air in a somehow solid form due to its pungency. Standard rifles were being pulled out of storage and having their thick layers of protective grease (Polarean) removed by industrial de-greasing apparatuses before being sent to the multiple armament inspection halls. From the enlisted caste to non-commissioned officers, everyone seemed to have something to do, or somewhere to be with convoy after convoy of logistic and supply trucks coming in from the east.
Though for the commissioned officers at the West Denver Military Complex, the lower ones were stuck at their separate posts while the higher ranked ones had locked themselves inside their offices, with logistics envoys coming in with piles of papers requiring a dismal amount of signatures. As much as the concept of hierarchy attempts to avoid putting all the pressure on one person at the top, Lieutenant-Colonel Stahl Strassem, commanding officer of the complex had taken the brunt of the force from the Imperial Order. His shirt was disheveled, his officer's coat unbuttoned and having it over his back like a cowl or cape, though his hat was planted firmly on his head even if the sweat it caused was terrible, the combination of remembering the discipline he received in the Officer's Academy concerning the way he had worn his hat one time, and the fact that he felt something about his uniform should be correct kept it on, but only with sheer willpower. Several out of province logistical officers had come into his office within just the morning part of the shift to confirm imported shipments, a task that the Lieutenant-Colonel wouldn't wish on his own enemies, though after awhile, a familiar Warrant Officer came through the door.
"Oh thank Lucifer themself... a face that I can actually recognize, I thought I had died and was stuck doing standard CONAO forms for the rest of my life," with the arrival of Warrant Officer Harridan, the nigh steaming commander seemed to lie back in his chair and let out a exhausted groan, with Harridan seeming to let him do so until he was ready, this usually took forty to fifty seconds.
"Annnnd that should be long enough.. no rest for the wicked, but I have some good news, you are being replaced!" Warrant Officer Harridan said this with a forced energy and positivity in their voice, though with the overworked stigma in the air, it sounded more like someone in a great deal of pain finally being accepted to receive assisted suicide, or something maybe less dark. In reality, someone of a greater rank would takeover primary control of the complex, letting the Lieutenant-Colonel off the hook for much of the paperwork, serving under the new assigned commander.
In response, the Lieutenant-General slumped over and laid his head and arms on the desk, letting out a deep sigh into the wood in relief, though as soon as he did so, his head lifted up again with a inquisitive look on his face, "Though, which General is it?" The orders that Strassem had been given were incredibly vague, telling the complex to prepare all armaments and assets available, as well as be ready to receive outside resources. It wasn't uncommon for a impromptu war game to be prepared for under some guise of secrecy, mostly in the spirit of keeping some cards hidden from the different military factions, though since they had been delivered in person by a High Imperial Guardswoman, the Lieutenant-General was highly speculative to say the least.
"Abooooout that..." Harridan started to scratch the back of his neck with the mechanical pencil he held, a clipboard in his other hand that he promptly placed onto the officer's desk. Before Strassem had much of a moment to gauge the top paper on the board, Harridan promptly opened up the blinds to unveil the office's view of the complex.
Strassem almost hissed at the thought of having the sunlight suddenly blind him, though as the window was made visible, the very sun that should have been there was blocked out, but it was clear as day without a cloud in the sky and all of the buildings that might be tall enough and wide enough to block it out were nowhere near his view. Instead of a floating orb of burning hydrogen and helium, stood the presence of a Imperial Airship in its way, though it wasn't alone.
A entire fleet of floating Imperial Airships slowly made their way to the excess concrete pads in the local airfield, at least over twelve of them, missile boats, floating aircraft carriers, escort slash anti-air cruisers, but one stood out most of all. The very airship that blocked out the sun was incredibly unique and identifiable after Strassem's eyes had adjusted to the ambient light, the same airship seen in a multitude of news broadcasts and military magazines, "The Pride of Regalia" or otherwise known as the first capital airship constructed by Greater Polaris, though anyone worth their weight in lead would know there are only a handful of people that could command such a vessel.
The Lieutenant-Colonel silently sweared as his head went back onto the desk, another deep sigh as he merely stated, "It's Major General Astor... isn't it..." and it only took a moment Warrant Officer Harridan to silently nod and point to the bottom of the first page of the clipboard, that page was a mandatory transfer of command form, with Astor's incredibly intricate signature at the bottom, now slightly smudged from Strassem's sweaty forehead that had laid on it.
The Imperial Palace, Regalia, the Emperor's Personal Office of Grand Affairs
His Majesty Jeremiah V. Polaris sat in one of many offices that he had claim to, though this one had a great deal of memories, being his first office before he had even become the Emperor. While generally spacious and now filled with banners that wore the Royal Symbol and various flags of Polaris, compared to his main office, it was a janitor's closet with only one large coffee table and three sofas to seat anyone else, a mahogany paneled hologram table and screen on the other side from the seating area. Though a Emperor's janitorial closet, Jeremiah found himself work more efficiently alone in the office, but during larger meetings or events that require a multitude of the round table members, he would find himself back in his primary office.
The gentle sound of a genuine fountain pen on paper filled the room, the only source of sound coming from the Emperor himself as he worked through several minor executive orders in preperation for the nation's next action, most of these edicts and orders had been planned, discussed and agreed upon in a meeting with the Round Table, so it was a formality at this point to sign them off. With all things considered, Jeremiah expected himself relegated to a quiet evening before heading out to dinner with his beloved wife, with absolutely no interruption in between, though a light and somewhat, authoritative knock came through the door. Two Imperial Guards held post directly outside his door, and usually they would be the one to notify him of any visitors, lest they be someone of high standard, so he assumed rightly that it was a Round Table member as he called out to them the knocker in, the incoming person being none other than Head of National Security, Elizabeth Pearson.
"Ah... Officer Pearson, I wasn't expecting any company," the Emperor gently leaned back in his chair, donning his lighter commander-in-chief uniform apparel, rather than his more, 'majestic' clothing that one would except a Emperor to wear.
"I apologize your Majesty, but as acting-head of International Affairs, we've received request from the United Empire of Argent to establish contact and dialogue," she was quick, lightly assertive and efficient with her words, and her silence afterwards was usually slightly jarring, as if she had just immediately stopped within time and ceased to live for a moment, but the staunch personality she had worked.
While potentially incredible news, the Emperor sunk just a little bit deeper into his chair, sighing as he simply remarked, "I'm going to have to change into the fancy outfit again... gody damned it..." but he quickly got over it as his imposing form picked itself up from his chair, instructing his subordinate with a confident and clear tone, "Prepare for communications, inquire to whom the speaker will be of course, I'm not going to talk to some low-tier spokesperson or anything, and I'm assuming they can be ready sometime today, I mean... it has only just become morning," by the end of his command, he seemed to be asking his subordinate's opinion of the quick response from Argent, though quickly waved off any response before it could start, "Nevermind that, today or tomorrow, I've some preparations to make."
With that, the Emperor left the room with the Head of National Security heading back to the communications hub to make ready what was needed.