Second Dawn (Post Apocalyptic Nationbuilder set in Europe)
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							<h1 class="p-title-value">Second Dawn (Post Apocalyptic Nationbuilder set in Europe)
	
	

	

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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'georgia'"><span style="font-size: 26px"><b>The Second Dawn</b><br>
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	<div class="bbImageWrapper  js-lbImage" title="Playstation_4_metalocus_21_960.jpg" data-src="/proxy.php?image=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.metalocus.es%2Fsites%2Fdefault%2Ffiles%2Ffile-images%2FPlaystation_4_metalocus_21_960.jpg&amp;hash=3c0730d6adcc20add5886b2a33999b4a" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-single-image="1" data-fancybox="lb-post-8340399" style="cursor: pointer;" data-caption="<h4>Playstation_4_metalocus_21_960.jpg</h4><p><a href=&quot;https:&amp;#x2F;&amp;#x2F;www.rpnation.com&amp;#x2F;threads&amp;#x2F;second-dawn-post-apocalyptic-nationbuilder-set-in-europe.364929&amp;#x2F;#post-8340399&quot; class=&quot;js-lightboxCloser&quot;>Yang Xiao Long · Sep 25, 2017 at 12:42 PM</a></p>">
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	</div> </b></span></span>​</div>The ghosts of the past call to you. They plead that you don't let this, this wasteland, be their legacy. Within your haven small splashes of green begin to bloom out of the grey. They call you to spread your teachings to the world and share it all. Share the wealth. You look out over the wastes. Miles upon miles of unconstrained chaos. You know that, that is what is actually there but all you see is brown and grey. The thick smog covers your view of the distance as the call of some great behemoth of nature rings true across the landscape. You wonder how, how can I possibly save this? But thought that fear lies a certainty that it is you who is needed to save those poor souls that lie off in the distance. Behind you the sounds of a new nation awaking to a new day of struggle, a new danger to overcome. In front of your eyes, right on the very edge of the dusty horizon, a large convoy of vehicles pass. They are clearly raiders and you could swear one of the vehicles stops, just far enough into the fog that you cant really see, and they look back at you before moving on. They hate you as much as you hate them. They know the wealth you hoard. The power you hold. They want it and they are not alone. You may have gathered these people together to save them, but that very action made them a target. One that attracts more and more threats each passing day. You may be able to hold these walls for now but if you don't look to the distance and expand your power a threat will no doubt arise, a threat far too able to crush what you now have. Go, See, Conquer. Take what you need so your people can be safe. Happiness is a luxury afforded to the few...<br>
<br>
OCC: <a href="https://discord.gg/Ntzdwub" target="_blank" class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fdiscord.gg%2FNtzdwub&amp;hash=69fa016a011c5937d0aa99d2771a9307" rel="nofollow ugc noopener">Discord - Free voice and text chat for gamers</a><br>
CS: <a href="https://www.rpnation.com/threads/second-dawn-css.354620/" class="link link--internal" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.rpnation.com%2Fthreads%2Fsecond-dawn-css.354620%2F&amp;hash=78e22207f227c2414c77c898585db35a">Second Dawn CS's</a></div>
				
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Every known Citizen of Britain stood with bated breath. Today they were going to unseal the tunnels. They were going to start with one as a test. They were going to open Victoria Underground. A loud thud could be heard as the system engaged ready to begin their work. King Henry, in his old age, stood nearby. He had ensure his family was safe, just in the case that the world outside was worse then they expected. The hiss of gas as the hydraulics began their work was all anyone noticed. It was slow but eventually the door was open. The Prime Minister stepped forth into the new world, followed by the King and troops who were again followed by the people, the British people. They looked upon their city, a mere glimmer of what it once was. Did they cry? No. Did they sigh? no. Did they panic? No! They rejoiced for they were free of the tunnels. Quickly standing on a nearby car the nations leader began a speech. When he was elected he knew he would be the one to usher in this new age. "People of Britain. I stand before you not as your Prime Minister but as a symbol. I am not a symbol of anything great but I symbolise you. Your determination. Your resilience. Your reluctance to lie down and let the world tell you no. I may be your Prime Minister but that is not because I am a god. I am your Prime Minister because someone had to be and I am damn well glad it was me. In a few months there will be another election. I have no doubt our next leader shall have even more challenges to face then I do but I promise you this. Before that next election every god damn one of you will be out of those damned tunnels and out in the fresh air. I swear to you as your elected leader that we shall retake this once great city and begin the journey to that future we all dream of. Once we ruled the world. Then America and Russia rose to be its bully but still the world listened to us. We have never been inconsequential. We will never be inconsequential and we shall rise again. London shall once more be the centre for European economies. London shall light the way for others to follow. London shall be not only the Legacy of us. The Legacy of our lives. London will be so much more. The Legacy of Democracy. The Legacy of Britain. The legacy of everyone, of the entire human race. All of humanity shall remember that even after the world was turned to Rubble London ensure it was not forgotten. That centuries of social and cultural progress would not be forgotten. I have no doubt we will find other people. People tainted by this harsh reality but not us. They may be dictatorships, products of the rule of anarchy that no doubt ruled after the bombs fell. They may have forgotten the steps we took towards equality. This may be a mens world up here but not us. While I may be a man, half of those who came before since we escaped the terrible fate of those who lie dead among these ruins, half of those were woman. This is truly a free and fair society but let us not forget that we will face new dangers. Let us not forget we are the children of Brittania. We will need to band together as always. Let us rebuild this jewel of Britain."<br>
<br>
First King Henry applauded, then so did everyone else. The Applause went on for minutes. Not because the speech was anything special, though to some it was, but because of what it meant. What they could see as their future. They were no longer cowering in tunnels waiting for the food to run out, cramped and without privacy. They had a city. They had space to spare. "GO! Go spread the news. Open the doors and pour out into the streets! Let us reclaim this city!" Shouted King Henry, truly a man of the people. With that he ordered guards follow him to begin retaking a symbolic building. Buckingham Palace.</div>
				
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<br>
It was a fairly cold morning in Moscow and the streets were quiet with barley a noise to be heard except the slow marching of soldiers. On what is usually a loud ceremony people stood with a twinkle in there eyes looking up at the Kremilin without so much as a peep. Today was the Red Army parade held every year to celebrate the Battle of Berlin, but today was something more. For the first time in years the Union was united and the political factions appeased, the Premier was popular and the army was strong but there was still a sense of hurt pride, they had proclaimed the restoration of the U.S.S.R but only controlled a single city and now after waiting and waiting it was believe that a plan of expansion was about to be announced.<br>
<br>
Around noon the quiet ended and with a loud bang the military bands loudly proclaimed the anthem of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics to a cheering crowd full to the brim with excitement. Everything happened at once, the men marched down the streets to the tune of Kalinika and the Premier emerged before standing at the podium with the applause of the Politburo behind him. The traditional chants of "Ura!" were made before quiet once again commenced. Right there the Premier felt like the most powerful man in the world, 60,000 people were hanging on his every movement. After a minute of silence for fallen  comrades the Premier spoke.<br>
<br>
"Comrades! Today is a day of looking to the past of our Glorious Union, of the great visions of Lenin and Stalin but we must also look to the future and the horizon ahead. After years of uncertainty we have started a golden age for our nation, workers are producing in factories and the peoples quality of life continues to rise but I know that we want more, we have proclaimed the Union but now with the unanimous vote of the Peoples Council and myself I am proud to announce that the Era of Reclamation has come at last! We will rebuild the Union and unite our peoples once more. "<br>
<br>
The crowd almost feverous went into great applause,  even the soldiers ever stoic cracked a smile and some even broke into cossack dancing. The Generals adorned with medals galore stood and gave the Premier a standing ovation while the Peoples Council looked proud and political about their decision.<br>
<br>
"We will start with the west! The traditional heartland of our movement before the catastrophic events of the war, and we will secure the outlying towns around us. The main objective of this operation is to secure all lands from Ryazan to Smolensk up to Tver. To start a force of 2000 soldiers of the Red Army will be sent out to scout and if possible secure Ryazan. Rejoice comrades for today is the start of a new age, the Union has returned to mother Russia's embrace and believe me it will never again leave. Long live the Union and long live the Party!"<br>
<br>
With this the Premier exits the stage with a smug smile on his face, the crowd cheers for 15 minutes straight with no one wanting to be the first to stop and the military bands play from dusk till dawn. First the first time the Kremilin is lit all through the night providing a vision of hope for the people of Moscow.</div>
				
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The world was far from the one that they left. The stations that were opened were being reinforced. The long term plan was to move all the civvies out and use all but the two operational lines as a large and complex military installation. In the short term that would have to wait as evacuating the tunnels safely would be a long operation. Among their finds down in the tunnels were some Sharps Carbines. Fifty of these weapons were in the Hands of the Irregulars that were off exploring the ruins, their first port of call was the Kings Palace itself. While much of the parks lay in craters and ruins the Palace stood largely undamaged. The rest of the guns lay at the various surface checkpoints so that the British Army could keep the many dangers from entering the tunnels. Among these were packs of rabid dogs. Periodically they would charge at the locations in the hopes of dragging one of the people off to eat. Shots would ring out as they ran down the streets, darting about, often behind the shells of cars and rubble. Eventually some would no doubt reach the troops where upon combat knives and improvised melee weapons would find their way through the throats of the beasts. The city was filled with the distant sound of gunfire as the various locations held off attacks. The city was all but silent before the British arrived and now it was a soundscape of contained explosions as soldiers went about their duty. <br>
<br>
As they approached the Palace one of the soldiers saw movement and ordered everyone the dash for cover just as a shot impacted right where his head was. After a few more seconds another shot rang true, hitting some of the cover they were behind. Based on the time between each shot Commander Riggs wagered he would have a few seconds to look out of cover and scout their enemy. After a quick look across a small group of people he saw one lifting a musket to his chin and just as the commander ducked a shot hit the cover he was behind. However it was too late. He told his men where to aim and after the next missing shot the location was filled with gunshots as everyone fired. The body fell to the ground and all the other people that could be seen in the various windows and entry ways retreated out of view. "Alright folk, we going to move up and take that building. We need a symbol for the British people and what better symbol then Buckingham Palace?" He then motioned for his men to follow as he began darting and rolling between cover in case there was another gun toting foe in there. Once they were in position around the fountain, the gates and other nearer obstructions he motioned for them to cover him. He stood up and began walking toward the Palace, gun in hand. "Stand down. This is the British Government, I am acting Commander Riggs of the Victoria Station Lights and my orders are to take this buildings. You are out manned and out gunned. I offer you two choices. Stand your ground, die by my trained troops and maybe get one or possibly two lucky kills as each and every one of you are killed as traitors or lay down your arms and leave the building. You are welcome to join the British initiative to rebuild London or you can part ways, leave London and go about your lives. I am sorry for the loyal soldier positioned outside but he shot first and gave me no choice." when he finished he was stood on the ruined wall that was made to keep tourists at bay, the fence in tatters and ruin. His soldiers ready to fire upon any aggression from the palace with some also being tasked with watching the surrounding parks.</div>
				
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A cold wind blew on the spring morning, the chill of winter not yet banished by the new season. Soldiers and militiamen crowded around fires to warm themselves, a low murmuring about the camp as they amused themselves. The relative silenced was interrupted as the door to the military outpost that the camp was built upon, the heavy steel locks making quite the racket as they opened and allowed the heavy door to slowly open. Ten men emerged as a light rain started to fall, prompting many to turn up their collars and secure their cloothin in an attempt to prevent the weather from stealing away their warmth.<br>
The first person to emerge was dressed in the same style as the sodiers, an improvides military uniform but under the greatcoat he wore for warmth were the signs of an officer's uniform that identified him as Wolfgang Hoch. The young, charismatic leader motioned towards his soldiers, the men dousing their fires and gathering their gear. The next to emerge was Alexander Dresner, who just a few days earlier had condemned Wolfgang as a tyrant.<br>
"Let's get under cover. No use wasting fuel trying to fight this weather." Alexander called to the militiamen. A few chuckles came from them as all but a pair gathered their belongings and prepared to leave. The two sentries returned to the camp's lookout, the covered tower providing enough respite from the weather. The group moved into a nearby building, the sizeable group of survivors sheltering inside giving some subdued cheers as they saw Alexander enter.<br>
<br>
The old man raised his hand for quiet as he adressed the crowd. "Though I'm sure some of you would find this unbelieveable, especially after some choice words I've said on the matter." Alexander paused to glance at Wolfgang, who was smirking as he removed his cap. "But we have come to an agreement." he continued, to another round of cheering.<br>
The young officer stepped forward, inhaling as he prepared to speak. "Today we have made the first step away from destruction and towards prosperity. To truly learn from the mistakes of the old world and create a new one."<br>
"Many men have sought to create a prosperous society. Some by force, others by manipulation. But true prosperity stems from a people free from manipulation and predation from others. From a people free to forge their own destiny, away from those who would seek to use them for their own, twisted benefit."<br>
There were cheers from the audience as Wolfgang paused for breath.<br>
"And we will forge our own destiny henceforth from today, as a free people. A strong, industrious people that does not hide away from hardship. And if any seek to have us under their boot they will soon find it is themselves that are lacking in resolve. For we are a free people. The free peoples of Prussia."<br>
Alexander was chuckling as Wolfgang stepped back. "Did you believe a word of that?" she teased, the old man looking at the young officer which was recieving the applause.<br>
"We shall see. Though I would bet money that you would believe every word if it were you speaking."<br>
"Hah! I don't have the voice for that."<br>
<br>
<div style="text-align: center">---| One Week Later |---​</div><br>

	
	


<div class="bbCodeBlock bbCodeBlock--screenLimited bbCodeBlock--code">
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FROM: GRAND MARSHALLS OFFICE WILHELM BARRACK ROSTOCK
TO: MARSHALL OF LOGISTICS FIELD OFFICE STRALSUND

AUTHORIZATION: ÜBER

MESSAGE BEGINS

2ND INFANTERIE COMPANIE TO BE RAISED FROM STRALSUND VOLUNTEERS STOP
REQUEST FOR AUTHORITY TO COMMISSION OFFICERS GRANTED STOP
TRAINING REGIMEN MODIFIED TO INCLUDE HAZARDOUS TERRAIN STOP
EQUIPMENT TRANSPORT BY FURCHTLOS SECURE DOCK SPACE STOP
ADVISE WHEN COMBAT EFFECTIVE STOP

MESSAGE ENDS</code></pre>
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The city of Saint Petersburg despite most of it still being left as rubble and ruins, had kept a form of dark yet beautiful charm. Some times it was quiet, other times there were the sounds of wildlife and groups of scavengers. In various parts of the city, especially deeper within there would be nests as far as the eye can see. If there wasn't, then chances were it was home to a devilish guardian of the skies. Creatures simply nesting wherever they can get into, patrolling the skies and easily ending the lives of those who came near with a heart stopping roar. Though it isn't much of a surprise now, any idiot who refuses to run after that is pretty much wishing to die. That attitude was also a reality at a time, during Soviet reign. Many who were sent up didn't exactly do it willingly for the great old union. Some didn't want to deal with it anymore, others wanted to find their own way and rebel after being sent up. The rest were just the average Red. The bodies of most of these parties still litter the surface all around the city yet to be buried, some didn't even make it past the doors. The sounds of a sniper's rifle from one of the rare safe zones can be heard echoing through the dead city above, as the lives of bandits and communist remnants within the city are purged. In the outer sections of the city interior soldiers within the winter palace retreat into the shadows within, as a winged creature flies by in the distance. Rubble blocks some streets if not more, and some buildings still have Core soldiers using them as outposts. As one travels further out of the city, the less outposts one can find.<br>
<br>
In the living half of the city underground, it's more peaceful. People live in peace, have entertainment, and others drinking at bars. It was here that a vast plan would be brought up to be enacted. Generals along with Marina and a slight few others would be discussing the plans to expand territories, through both letter and directly. The plan was to slowly acquire new lands in a directionless manner. Starting with towns down south of the city all the way to the north. Starting from the town of Pushkin and going down the list of Kolpino, Krasnoye Selo, and Sertolovo. This was to take a immense amount of time, but primarily would be of a scouting nature rather than a immediate expansion. Pushkin of course being the only exception of this. A number was set to send 450 there, 400 of the Army and 50 of the Core to take it. While varying numbers of 20 - 50 of the core being sent to scout the latter locations for a time period valid for those areas. Should anything or one be found there, the returning parties were to immediately inform of this upon returning. Should there be nothing, it may be a candidate of armed scavenging. If the party doesn't return, the area was to be deemed hostile to life and possibly even monitored if capable. The most attention was to Pushkin, while some attention was given to other locations but were not considered too vastly important. Meaning after scouting a location, unless someone or something big enough is there, the location will most likely be left entirely alone. Discussion on the latter half of the plan would proceed at another time, and once Pushkin is taken it's use will be debated at a later date as well. After this was completed, the numbers would begin to be sent out after preparation was finished. Celebrations were saved for later, as they believed that a early celebration would only bring disaster.</div>
				
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Morning in København, the city awakes to the bells of Vor Frue Kirke. The fisherman fishes, the bakerman bakes to the bells of Vor Frue Kirke. To the big bells as loud as the thunder to the little bells soft as a psalm, and some say the soul of the city is the toll of the bells, the bells of Vor Frue Kirke. The crimson hue of the sun shattered the rippling blue of the Baltic Sea, merging the color of the horizon with that of the glimmering water. And within only a few moments the steam pillars in the docks could be seen, this was to be the first time the ship was to go out of København, with a guard of smaller ships, it was to come in contact with the other cities around it, first was the city of Oslo, the biggest power that would threaten their reign as the trading leaders of the Trans Baltic route. On the Journey the Fleets took, and began to build forts on the Isles of Anhold, and Læsø, to maintain an Iron grip upon Kattegat, it's main source of trade.<br>
<br>
King Gretar II, in his palace, called the printers of the city into his chamber, and called upon them to compile a script written and translated into Danish, Gutnish, Bokmal, Swedish, Faroese, Nynorsk, and Norn. He was to give the messages to all the Merchants that came in and out of the lands, and was to hand them out to the region of their languages.<br>
<br>
<i>Men and Women of Skandinaviske,<br>
<br>
I, Gretar II of København come with a deal, a hand of peace, it is by God's very grace that I have ascended to the throne, and by his divine word that I make these inquiries. In a deep slumber under the stars I found myself in a field full of great winged beasts, and heavenly angles. The trumpet of the Angles sounded shedding light upon the foul beasts, and one angle came to me with her song and sang thus:<br>
<br>
The gift of the elder world has ended<br>
Thus shall begin a new era full of strife<br>
The time has come again for you all to Trancend<br>
The people of Scandinavia must fight again for their life<br>
Death Harkons to all<br>
And the region is sure to fall<br>
Unless under one man<br>
Is every Scandinavian<br>
<br>
It is my duty, and my honor to protect my people be they near in my city or far, I love them all. This is a proposition, that we all rise up together under one banner, one man in order to survive, in order to thrive, that is the will of all people and of god to see us to our former glory, and even pass that glory. Pledge yourself to me and you keep your farm, you keep your house, and you keep your kingdom, we will merge into one singular body able to repel invaders and the beasts of the morning star. Not only will you survive, you will be protected, and your endeavors supported. No longer will you fear for the future, but you will weep at the sorrows of the past. The world is once again turning with the wheels of innovation and creation, make sure you do not fall behind.<br>
<br>
Gretar II.</i></div>
				
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As it was clear the inhabitants of the Palace were unwilling to surrender the soldiers were ordered to retake it by force. Charging in, those that had them, affixed bayonets and made quick work of those who showed resistance. Inside were some children and a few adults willing to surrender. While it was over in a matter of minutes the issue of the new prisoners needed to be attended too. Commander Riggs, walking back from his sweep of the building, saw the prisoners lined up against the wall in the Dining room. Mothers clutching sons and daughters clinging on to fathers. He was annoyed at them for not surrendering and letting them be killed over a building. "Greetings. As I stated earlier I am Commander Riggs of the Victoria Station Light Infantry. You have committed an act of Aggression against the Crown and Country and shall be taken before the king. Your fate is in the hands of the crown. If you attempt to escape before you are tried you shall be shot. If you take an action during transit that could place myself or my men in danger. You will be shot. It is my hope that you will be safely taken into custody and likely given a small sentence before being free to live your lives." After this he ordered a group of his men to remain while he returned to his commanding officer, General Wiles, with the prisoners.<br>
<br>
The General was busy attempting to rally more soldiers for the army. The Government were will loath to implement enforced conscription and until she could persuade them of how necessary it could be she needed to make people WANT to join. The lure of being able to explore the surface was working well for some. She was in a meeting discussing targets of value when a knock rapped at the door. The meeting was about concluded and so she allowed the intruder to enter.  That was when she found out about the success of Riggs and his captures. She siwftly informed the monarch as he went down to provide him with new orders.<br>
<br>
As the King heard about the situation he made is his goal to pardon them. He needed to show the wastes that their government was lenient, fair and welcoming. Within an hour a stage was set up in front of the recently taken Palace. A Large number of soldiers protected the event as the King approached the stage. Before the stage, scared and weeping, were the prisoners. He adressed them directly with speakers spreading the message far and wide. "Despite your attacks against my people, you showed loyalty and determination. You showed valiance and honour in the defence of your property. Property you had stolen but nevertheless a place you called home.For this I Pardon you and invite you to seek protection under the Union of Britain. All may join our banner and find safety from the dangers of the world. <br>
<br>
As this was taking place, Commander Riggs and his merry band had now begun to explore an old british warship. It had been turned into a museum long ago but its strategic position would not doubt have attracted some natives to seek refuge within and so caution was undertaken. After securing nearby buildings and aiming through the windows Riggs took a megaphone from a nearby soldier and requested the inhabitants of the ship come out for a talk.</div>
				
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	</div><br>​</div>So it began, the Ryazan March as it came to be known. 2,000 soldiers of the Red Army set forth from the gates of Moscow at dawn with crowds cheering them on as they did so, at the head if the column was Field Marshal Kutusov the decendent of the great commander at Borodino, now as his ancestor fled Moscow he advances from it. Luckily for the soldiers the Russian west was a flat land so if they were to be attacked on this expedition they would know about it long before it actually occurred. The first phase was simple, secure Ryazan and send word back to Moscow where supply lines and patrols would be set up, the people of Ryazan if there were any would be welcomed with open arms and offered immediate citizenship and protection from whatever ills plagued the outside world.<br>
<br>
As soon as Moscow was obscured from view the music ended and nothing but the eerie sound of marching could be heard, the soldiers were stone faced yet clearly nervous marching on the ground their not so distant relations would have praised. Still it was their duty and their privilege for they would be immortalised in song and legend for what they are doing, not too mention double rationing once Ryazan was secure. After a full day of marching the men set themselves down for the night and Kutusov retired to the command tent where he and the other military officers planned for what happened next.<br>
<br>
Kutusov entered the tent solemnly and the other officers stood to attention before being ushered to stand down. "Gentlemen, as you know Ryazan is only the first step but it is vital. If were are quick about it it should be 4 days at most now and I intend to make it so. Once we are there General Artsimov will enter the city on the left entrance heading to the city square with a quarter of our men with the 6th Revolutonary Guards Rifles being given the honour of the vanguard. General Stanislaw will do same in the north, with the 5th and General Denekin will have the right and the 3rd. I myself will enter through the front entrance and during the March through we shall clear the streets block by block informing the citizens of our intent with posters and so forth. I will only declare the city secure when each General stands in the city square and tells me it is so. Everyone dismmed."<br>
<br>
With that the orders were given and the plan clear, all would have been perfect if not for a Private burst who into the room "Sir! Sir! a section of B Company, 4th Rifles has gone missing, our boys heard fighting and monstrous screams but when we arrived to help they were just gone with nothing but claw marks on the floor. 10 men are unaccunted  for" With this the man didn't even wait to be disissed before saluting and running out of the tent. This was expected by the Politburo and Kutusov immediately made the decision to keep this a secret, morale must be kept high.<br>
<br>
The next few days marching was uneventful and the nights the same losing another 15 men in the long March without a trace. When they arrived at Ryazan it looked like Moscow before reconstruction started, in a small way it felt like home for the soldiers, it felt like Russia. The advance would begin tomorrow.</div>
				
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As the sun reached its zeneth above the nation of Gilbralter, a smile came upon Alexender's face as he read in his study inside the old Moorish Castle. This had been the seat of House Oxford since his father, who had passed two years before, had lived. As he read some of his books from his study, he couldn't help but think about the kingdom he had help build<br>
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The previous day, Alexender had assembled two squads of troops, Squad Omega and Squad Gamma, and had given them a mission: Go and find settlements on the coast of Iberia and bring them into his kingdom. The settlements would be offered protection by his miltary, which could effectively take care of them from wild animals and bandits because of his army's superior weaponry, in exchange for paying taxes and helping to forge weapons for his army and be conscripted into his army. They would be able to elect their own leaders and pass their own laws as long as said laws didn't contradict his rulings<br>
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Now, the two squads had finally set sail, there courses plotted. Squad Omega would head east to Estepona to find settlements and would go all the way to Màlaga. Squad Gamma would first stop at Algeciras and continue all the way to Càdiz. As they sat sail, Alexender couldn't help but smile. When the history books are written about Gilbralter, they would remember Alexender who made the Kingdom of Gilbralter truly great​</div></div>
				
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Before the surface march, there would still be 100 soldiers left unaccounted for at the preparation zone at the southern outskirts of the city. They were the 3rd white guards rifle company led by Captain Mira Kashnikova, one of the participants of the previous civil war against the reds. After making sure the exit was clear, any possible mutants around were distracted or disposed of, one of the various main exits would begin to open. The last handcar otherwise known as utility cart, filled with supplies, would proceed to go down the line as the various stations ahead played the anthem with their own bands. The stations having been playing music since the first hundred soldiers that had marched out of the underground. The remaining infantry were on larger carts to move more personnel and equipment around faster. Consisting of several carts/railcars attached together. The tunnels were lit with the occasional flickering light, and stations increased their security forces in the meantime. All that could be heard before reaching a station was the sounds of the carts going down the tracks, and occasional talking and banter between the troops. Sometimes Friends, sometimes family, and mostly random observers would be spread throughout each station traveled. Some stations were better lit than others, some were bigger and more lively, some were dirtier or cluttered full of both people and boxes of equipment for further military surface operations, and others were more clean and business like. Eventually, they were only met with large tunnels with darkness, a red light upon reaching the exit, and then within the city proper. Just in case a large horde were to be around the railroad, the soldiers were ordered to ready their weapons. However, nothing had happened this time around. After quite some time, they made it south of the city to the preparation zone. After the troops disembarked, they would take their supplies and form up in the back lines of the battalion. 50 of them were armed with Berdan IIIs, something the rest of the battalion lacked. The rest were given a regular IHR.<br>
<br>
The military had started it's march towards Pushkin at sunrise. The troops appearing fearless while marching, only the sounds of marching would be heard for some of the distance. They had already sent out most of the 50 core members far ahead for scouting purposes, with only 10 having remained with the main army as supporting units. The vanguard were armed with IHRs with bayonets, and the mid lines consisting of IHRs. The back lines being people just having IHR variations. The man leading the march was of course Aleksei Mishnev. Mishnev was made as head of the operation. Most of the soldiers just wore identical clothing that was light, made to help the soldiers remain warm in harsh conditions and weather if the need be. Officers wore armbands, while the core wore more professional looking military uniforms. They consisted of old parts of uniforms, formed with the pelts of the various mutants they killed. One simply had a very dark uniform overall, another had a dark uniform with a dark brown fur-hat and shoulder-hip sash, and another having similar uniform, with a much darker shirt, dark brown sash from the right shoulder to the hip, and fur boots. Some of the regular military officers were capable of trading with them days before the march, and would also have fur boots but not much else. Alongside the army were supplies transported in from earlier, having been quickly brought to the outskirts of the city through utility railcars to not generate alot of noise.<br>
<br>
Along the long march, would be teams of core units every few miles. They would redirect the main army from areas deemed as threats. Some of the troops would try to take in the sights, but the surroundings looked like a wasteland. They would continue marching before having to wait a hour due to the core trying to figure out where to redirect them again, where they would take a temporary break and rest. After a hour, they would continue on until setting up camp within a few more hours at the 10 mile mark. The camp primarily consisted of tents created from what was on hand, a example being a rare few tents already made out of various mutants. They chose this spot for resting, while any and all troops were accounted for to make sure everyone was at camp. Most of everyone was resting, the officers were gathered in a tent, and soldiers taking shifts would guard the camp despite the core doing so. Outside one of the makeshift barracks, a soldier was cleaning his rifle thoroughly. Inside the command tent there would be Mishnev in the middle of the tent, with all the attention on him. "As one would expect, we have the honors of taking back Pushkin from the wasteland. At this time we have reports of hostile creature activity around the town. Once we are there Captain Kashnikova with the 3rd white guards will enter the town directly through the main road, and try pushing through to another unit or stay around the center of town. Major Sayanovich will take his company and proceed to flank the town from the left side. If successful both companies will form back together, and try destroying hostile resistance that may remain around the area. 20 of the core will go to each unit. The rest of the forces will remain with me, and move in through the right side to prevent other units getting caught by surprise. Once the threat is removed we will begin searching the town. We will begin our final march when the sun is  Everyone is dismissed." After that, everyone would return to previous duties after Mishnev left.</div>
				
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<br>
Kapitän Voss peered through his spyglass at the small strip of land that divided the ocean and Stettin Lagoon, observing the encampment that guarded the entrance. His ship, the <i>FKS Furchtlos</i>, had been ordered to scout the coastline and lagoon, and potentially make contact with the inhabitants of Stettin itself if the opportunity presented itself. His brow furrowed, this encampment might mean trouble, but they could hardly fire upon it on mere suspicion.<br>
Lowering the spyglass the captain ordered his helmsman to steam towards the channel, then turning to Leutnant Ehrlinger and giving orders that the lookouts were to watch that encampment with a keen eye. Nothing was to stop them exploring the lagoon.<br>
<br>
'<i>Eingehend!</i>'<br>
A projectile struck the smokestack, ripping the thin cloth and denting the frame. The ship exploded with activity as the alarm bell was sounded and officers announced general quarters. Voss looked back to the encampment and muttered a curse as he spotted the makeshift siege engine and black flag that had been raised. Shouting an order, the cannons of his ship soon returned fire.<br>
While the armament of the <i>Furchtlos</i> was limited to six small canon and whatever rifles were on board, it outclassed the archaic ballista and what few muzzle-loaders these pirates had. The ship slowly steamed through the pass, the helmsman ignoring the ongoing battle to ensure that the ship was not grounded.<br>
The battle soon subsided, the ballista having been silenced by a shell that snapped it's frame. Spotting a number of boats tied to the shoreline, Voss ordered some holes put into them. The ship's cannons rang out one last time as the pirate's boats were put out of commission.<br>
<br>

	
	


<div class="bbCodeBlock bbCodeBlock--screenLimited bbCodeBlock--code">
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		<pre class="bbCodeCode" dir="ltr" data-xf-init="code-block" data-lang=""><code>TELEGRAM/WIRELESS

FROM: KAPITAEN MAXIMILIIAN VOSS FKS FURCHTLOS
TO: MARSHALL OF KREIGSMARINE WILHELM BARRACKS ROSTOCK

DATE: 29-5-2087
AUTHORIZATION: MITTE

MESSAGE BEGINS

COMBAT REPORT STETTIN LAGOON STOP
HOSTILE FORCE ENGAGED VICINITY KROESLIN STOP
ENEMY SUPPRESSED BOATS DESTROYED NO CASUALTIES STOP
SUSPECTED PIRATE ACTIVITY STOP
CONTINUING ON MISSION STOP

MESSAGE ENDS</code></pre>
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					<div class="bbWrapper">The Unterhügel bustled with activity in the upper chambers, busy porters and laborers carrying supplies, their weary expressions glistening with sweat at the extraneous task as the unloaded barrels of salted fish, venison and wine into the carts. A parade of men and supplies slowly marched towards the entrance of the bunker before disappearing into the bright world above, following their commanders as they marched off far ahead, banners in hand. The whole ordeal created quite a deal of cacophony, more-so than the usual noise that rose from the bowels of the city, the sounds of metal clanging, smog rising and people yelling to and fro in a satisfyingly thick German accent. The sound of home at this point, warm and dirty just like work.<br>
<br>
<br>
“They probably won't be that happy to see you after a few weeks on the road.” The coarse sound of her brother Friedrich started her from her thoughts on the passing parade of men and supplies. Turning to her brother she half smiled at his jest, pushing him playfully before pulling her hair back and tying it off in a pony tail. He was always attempting to pry her with his crude joking, even when they were kids living in the cellar he would make fun of how she wrestled with the other boys. Now he was a dashing man, dressed in a suit their father had packed during the initial exodus, blonde short hair parted carefully and moustache meticulously plucked and trimmed. Wiping his shoulders of dust she stepped away from him, towards the crowd, glancing back at the great gates that were flung open at the moment before returning her gaze to her brother, her usually dour expression adorning a broad, toothy smile.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Dont forget to reinforce the supports, wouldnt want to ruin fathers good suit with all this dust and debris would we?” With that chiding remark she turned on her heel towards the army, walking beside it as they slowly ascended the path to the outside. The light was momentarily blinding, almost causing her to close her eyes completely before the bright pain subsisted and she could look around. The ground was a dark green, the color of dead grass, with small patches of brighter coloration adorned with small flowers and weeds. The whole thing contrasted starkly with the bright blue sky overhead, as if it had not gotten a memo that the world had died and was still operating business as usual.<br>
<br>
<br>
Turning her gaze away from the cheerful sky she noticed the line of men now stretching a good distance towards the horizon, farther than she could probably throw, as well as the still ruins of Stuttgart far below, cradled in the hills as her father would say. A few feet from here there were three or four horses, neighing and prancing impatiently as one was fit with a cart laden with foodstuffs and the other was mounted by a Oberoffizier - Ralf if she was not mistaken. He looked annoyed at the whole process, his hard browline scrunched as he attempted to keep his horse from galloping away while the laborers struggled with the straps. The two attempting to set the thing on there were hardly adults, and their clumsy movements showed their inexperience.<br>
<br>
<br>
Looking back to the line and then back to the struggling boys she decided to stroll over there, causing the officer to almost fall off of his horse saluting once he had realized that she was not a fellow officer but in fact the Monarch herself. A repressed chortle slipped past her lips at the sight but she didn't pause to take note of it, instead, pushing one of the boy's thin hands away from the buckles and taking them roughly in her hands. The beast paused for a moment before neighing in a confused manner, its hoofs digging up dirt and sod as it stomped around, jostling the harness on its haunches. Lifting the wooden piece in unison with the other boy she grabbed the hanging strap from under the horse, pulling it across the bottom of its chest before tightly pulling it against the shaft, causing it to jerk and neigh in protest. Relieving it slightly she fastened the thick leather in place, pulling another strap and attaching that before fastening down the saddle bags with a grunt.<br>
<br>
<br>
“There all set!” Her voice was cheery as she walked away, rubbing one of the boys shoulders for a moment before setting out to find her own horse. It had a white body with speckles of brown splattered across its chest and consumed its legs and head as well as two beautiful chestnut eyes and a thick mane that was soft to the touch. It was standing patiently between two other horses, both of which were mounted by two pensive figures, both of which seemingly trying not to look as impatient as they were.<br>
<br>
<br>
On the further side was Finla Weber, Commanding Großoffizier, clad in the proper military attire with her sidearm holstered at her hip and her rifled slung over her shoulder. Her demeanor was cold and commanding, almost stereotypical for a commanding officer but it fit her. A sharp face with a thin nose and blue, piercing eyes stared out towards the dull landscape below, picking it for details as she bid her time.<br>
<br>
<br>
Closer to her was Ava von Weinberg, a pleasant expression adoring her round face as she bowed as elegantly as one could while on a horse. Unlike Finla she was openly hospitable, throwing banquets in her hometown of Weinberg from time to time and at least attempting to be friendly with every person she met. Out of the two she was the first to speak as Leona clambered onto her horse, the three of them prodding their horses into motion.<br>
<br>
<br>
“You look as radiant as the sun my queen.” she offered her hand for a moment, which Leona took happily, before turning back to the road ahead. “It is quite a shame that we don't yet have the instruments assembled for a marching band, it would surely boost the morale to have our great anthem played aloud for the men.” the girl reminisced, glancing coyly in the queens direction before squeezing her horse on the side, pressuring it into a quick trot. Doing the same Leona quickly caught up with the younger girl, looking over the men as she passed them before turning her gaze towards the brunette.<br>
<br>
<br>
“If you want a band so bad why dont you go down to the metalworkers and order them to make some instruments for you, after all you have all the wine in Hügelzustand at your disposal.” The two of them chuckled playfully at the statement, despite the hint of poison Leona carried in the words. Taking a breath the both of them just looked towards the hills as they rode off alongside the stream of men and carts.<br>
<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- ">******</span><br>
<br>
The sound of small gears and metal pieces turning and ticking echoed in the back of his ear as Benno sat in the waiting chamber, glancing down at his clock before looking around the room with an exasperated expression on his round face, small beady eyes picking out the crude details of the place. If he was not so annoyed at the tardiness of his associate he might have called the place homely, it definitely was not bad considering it was dug out of a hill after all. It was a small room, with a single table - probably salvaged from the looks of it - and two mismatched chairs, along with a few other small cabinets and such that matched the wooden paneling used to hide the dugout walls. One such cabinet off in the corner was especially curious as it was adorned with a ceramic tea set, blue curls splashed across the pale white complexion of the small cups and assorted dishes, something that surprised the man the first time he saw it. Tapping his knuckles against the table he glanced at his watch, mumbling something under his breath before turning his gaze to the door. The only way out or in.<br>
<br>
<br>
Outside he could hear muffled voices, low and calm but slowly rising into to a crescendo as whomever was on the other side grew disheveled with the subject at hand. Before he knew it he was intrigued, listening in with the intent of a small child listening to a fictitious tale strewn by one of their comrades. Just as he was assured he would be able to figure out the origin of the noise, and the argument, there was a clack and it was instantly dropped to be replaced by the sound of wooden heels against hard wood. He could feel the blood rushing to his face as he sat back in his chair, embarrassed that he had become so enthralled in petty drama that he could not even understand and cursing them for taking so long under his breath.<br>
<br>
<br>
As he situated himself he heard the door knob jostle momentarily before the oak portal swung open, revealing a man as thin as he was tall, a he was tall. He was well dressed, as to be expected, with a burgundy coat that bunched slightly at the shoulders thrown over a black vest with a white undershirt and black pants to match. The jet black hair he had managed to style was parted a quarter across, leaving a large tuft of black hair to lean over one side and the other side to be pulled tight against his head. How formal.<br>
<br>
<br>
The door squealed behind him as he closed it, his deliberately slow footsteps thunking against the floorboards as he sauntered towards the tea kit, slowly pouring himself a cup of the brown stuff before dropping in a few spoonfuls of sugar. With a thin smile he half turned, gesturing a cup towards Benno, to which he waved off with a warm smile that peeked through his thick moustache. Shrugging, the man returned to his tea, replacing the lid with a slight dink before taking his chair and carefully sitting himself down across from the larger man. There was a moment of silence as he sipped at his tea, a glimpse of a frown tugging at the edges of his lips for a moment before he simply set it to the side. Whatever it was he figured it was not worth his time, a sentiment Brenno felt he shared about him.<br>
<br>
<br>
Clearing his throat, the larger man reached out with his hand for a handshake, which was firmly, if slightly awkwardly, returned by the other.<br>
<br>
<br>
“The Monarch sends her regards, Mr. Carter.” The words slid roughly from Brennos chapped lips as he stares the other down, the need to call him out on his disrespectful attitude rising in his throat before being suppressed back into his chest by the weight of formalities. Another moment passed as the Mr. Carter takes another sip of his tea, clearing his throat as silently as possible before clasping his hands together.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Her regards are well taken Mr. Kleine. Now why exactly have you traveled so far for this appointment.” His accent was rough and not well trained, passable to anyone who did not particularly care to look to deeply into it. That being said Brenno refrained from cringing at the sound, despite having heard it many times before it still messed with him a little.<br>
<br>
<br>
“The same thing I am always here for Gotthard.” the annoyance of his tone was only thinly veiled by the hint of formality he provided, moreso for himself than the other. “We are planning on increasing the number of Herzschutz and for that we need your gunpresses working at max capacity. I am willing to bring 30 more pounds of salted fish to the table. “ As far as he was concerned Gotthard and his people could starve, after all it would allow them to take over the weapon presses without breaking the treaty and get rid of this annoying fuck. He could see the gears turning in the others head as he leaned back, cracking his knuckles as he thought over the proposal.<br>
<br>
<br>
“forty-five pounds, for three-hundred additional rounds of munitions and twenty Heckler and Koch G3 rifles for three months.” he paused for a moment, sipping his tea as he let the proposal sit with the other man before setting down his cup again with a slight clink.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Forty pounds.” He rebutted the others offer, knowing he was able to manage forty five pounds but as any good businessman he wanted to get the most bang for his buck and if he can keep the pounds down the fishermen will love him all the more.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Forty-three” The lean man snapped back, sipping at his tea for a moment.<br>
<br>
<br>
Seconds passed as the two sat there, Bennon tapping his sausage like fingers on the table while he thought over the offer before finally conceding with a drawn out sigh, the old chair creaking and groaning as he leaned back.<br>
<br>
<br>
“Fine, forty-three pounds of salted fish. I have faith you will keep your end of the bargain?” The man held out his hand and the other took with a thin smile, nodding vehemently before standing up, finishing off his tea and setting back with the rest of the set. With a curt ‘adieu’ he stepped out of the room to go entertain other guests and deal with more business. Sighing, Brennon let himself relax as he leaned back, fishing into his coat jacket for a few moments before pulling out a metal flask and setting it on the table with a thunk.<br>
<br>
<br>
The door opened slowly with a creak as a servant boy cautiously peeked into the room, almost jumping when he saw the portly man and his flask. Obviously steeling himself the boy stepped into the room and grabbed the tray the tea set was sitting on and quickly scurried back out. The whole quick scene pulled a hearty chuckle from the man before he grabbed his flask and pressed it against his lips, amber liquid pouring down his throat and burning deep in his gut. He had a few more hours down here but he was counting every second until he could go back home again.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper">A large groan echoed through the chamber as the hillside above became sodden with diseased rain water, the weight causing the large pillars of wood and iron to groan and creak as the pressure slowly increased. The rapport of knuckles tapping against wood suddenly cracks out above the rainy ambience of the room as Friedrich sat alone in his carefully crafted chair. The Handwerker Gilde swore up and down that these were made by their crafters but he always thought otherwise. The fabric of the cushion was not frayed enough for it to have been made without oldworld machinery. Still, saying that the seat of the city was made by the carpenters and the weavers of Unterhügel increased morale in the city.<br>
<br>
His concentration snapped as his attention was pulled to the large, opulent doors across from the table he was sitting at as they slowly parted with loud groaning and whining. They glided a mere inch above the carpeted floor before coming to a stop, the large slabs of wood shuddering as they came to a stop. Shuffling could be heard in the dimly lit hallway beyond, its owners staying out of sight as they prepared themselves - leaving poor Friedrich to aimlessly ponder what they would be like. Turning to the side he leaned in towards one the advisor standing at his side, whispering to him with a glance at the door.<br>
<br>
“Do you happen to remember what the first thing on the list was for today?” His german was slurred in his attempt to whisper to the other, giving rise to a confused expression across the bald man snapped his head to look at his superior. His face was round and supple, seemingly untouched by the hardships that had befallen most of the people after the bombs dropped. Perhaps it was simply a facade, or an illusion wrought by Friedrich himself. Either way the mans face melted into an expression of realization before hardening into one of knowledge, eyes furrowed slightly and lips tightly pursed. His amber eyes flicked towards the gap between the doors, which was still decidedly empty, before turning back to Fredreich as he leaned in closer.<br>
<br>
“The Böhler family sent their eldest son.” He paused for a moment, looking aside before seemingly to collect his thoughts again.<br>
<br>
“He is to discuss the matter of the Unterhügel-Keller trade routes, that is at least what i have on the sch-” The scratchy flow of his voice suddenly cut short, only to be replaced by the thumping of footsteps as a small handful of people walking into the room. They had an air of assumption around them, a vain nobility that hung around most nobles and merchants of high esteem. The leader of the group was his own daughter and the master of protocol, Abigail, her glittering brown eyes focused solely on the clipboard she was holding up as she marched into the room. It was all that he could do not to list off thinking fondly of how proud she has made him over the years, and he felt a little better about this whole day having saw her (even though she was always there). With a click of her heels she brought her feet together and suddenly stopped in the center of the room. Following her lead the men behind her stopped before fanning out around her as she announced them. There were four in total, two Böhler representatives and two guards flanking them. The smaller of the two Böhler men had a rough complexion, a scruffy matte black beard crawling along his jawline, fading into the meticulously cluttered mess of a haircut, and a stern expression that was meant to give off the idea that he was not going to have his time wasted. He was probably a cousin, nothing special. The real problem here was the other one.<br>
<br>
Tall, cocky and holding the power of his families trade routes by nethers he was dangerous, maybe not to Freidrich himself but he could easily take his petty frustrations out on others - which would come back to probably fuck Freidrich nonetheless. His face was lean: a hard jaw adorned by a small fluff of yellow hair hanging from his chin, a thin pointy nose and small beady eyes that gleamed with the promise of unbridled power. Now he was sure the kid was a good person, deep down inside, he just hadn't been kicked around enough.<br>
<br>
“Presenting, the Illustrious Dirk Böhler, son of Hanson Böhler, heir to the Böhler fortune and slayer of the great Dämonenhirsch of Keller.” He was brought back to the situation at hand with a frown at the sound of his daughters voice as it gently caressed his ears. “And his 2nd Cousin, Erik Böhler, son of Markus Böhler and defender of Keller.” Punctuating her final statement with a click of her heels she promptly stepped off to the side, allowing the two to step forward in order to address the unter-Bürgermeister themselves.<br>
<br>
“Me and my cousin have traveled far to hold an audience with the unter-Bürgermeister of Unterhügel and, not to sound rude, but honestly seeing the city for the first time is quite humbling. “ His voice was sharp, each word enunciated with practiced precision, and his eyes only left the throne twice: once to steal a glance at Abigail and when he took a quick bow.<br>
<br>
“I am sure that your journey through the Keller Unterführung was pleasant enough.” Freidrich’s response was crisp, annoyance seeping through the thin facade of politeness as he nodded from his chair. His next line came curtly as he leaned back in his chair, one finger starting to tap on the arm of the psuedo-throne again. “Though, I must ask what brings you to the capital today.”<br>
<br>
“The matter of the Keller trade routes I am afraid.” The boy’s expression changed slightly to represent remorse as he explained himself away, noting his fathers anger at the whole ordeal and how he wanted the whole thing resolved as soon as possible. The whole thing passed Friedrich as he stared down at the small party. He already knew what they wanted, this was just icing on the cake. After a few minutes of the boy droning on he suddenly interjected, causing the boy to almost choke as he realized he had been cut off.<br>
<br>
“What does your father want, specifically, regarding the Keller trade routes? More guards, less taxes, more tunneling work?”<br>
<br>
Dumbfounded, the boy was caught off guard by the sudden question from the older man and it took him a good twenty seconds at least to recollect himself and he knew it by the embarrassed blush that ran under his eyes. The reaction almost caused the blonde man to crack a smile but he kept his stern facade while waiting on the other to figure out what they were going to respond with.<br>
<br>
“He-<i>we</i> want to be able to employ Keller guards to protect the trade routes.” The words were surprisingly coherent coming out of the boy, but the meaning was disconcerting. Keller guards would most likely be Böhler guards and those people had enough power without being given permission to raise a small army.<br>
<br>
“No”<br>
<br>
“But it would free up guards for other places, I know you are lacking given that the Hochdame took many of your good guards for her parade off to Bad Cannstatt.” He had gained some of his confidence back, and he supposed the boy earned it with that remark. It was a fact that the guards were low back in the capital but he wasnt going to budge on that alone.<br>
<br>
“I can’t consciously allow Hanson that, as I am sure your father is quite aware.” The boy stood there for a moment, gears obviously turning in his head as he thought of his next move. Suddenly he reached into his coat jacket, pulling out a handful of papers neatly folded and tied together with fraying, brown string. He handed it over to one of the guards, who looked it over before nodding to himself and sauntering over to where Fredreich sat, a stern expression on his face as the guard handed the papers over.<br>
<br>
Thanking the guard under his breath he took the papers, feeling the weight of the documents in his hands as he leafed through the yellowing pages. It was a formally drafted proposal on the idea, including specific data and regulations all written in Hanson’s harsh handwriting. It even included a few pilfered trade agreements between Keller and Weithause. From what scraps he had pulled from the letters it seemed that the two of them had been working on some sort of alliance, and Weithause had been working on some serious equipment...Realization poured over his expression as he suddenly shot up from his chair, looking around for a moment before patting down his chest and stepping down the steps to the floor, stopping to look at the two boys that had been standing there with hardly hidden giddy expressions for a minute or longer now.<br>
<br>
“Gentlemen, your request will take some time to think over. When I have made my decision I will be sure to send message to your father...and I do hope you enjoy your stay in the city.” <br>
<br>
With that he stepped off to the side, motioning for his assistant to follow him while he disappeared into a side door. The expression of confusion that was splayed on the Hanson boy’s faces turned to indignant disbelief as Abigail ushered them from the room, announcing that all other court appearances would be postponed until further notice.<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- ">*****</span><br>
The gently pattering of rain against the budding foliage hid the sound of boots squishing against the muddy ground, each step becoming harder and harder as the mud attempted to claim whole feet. The men were worn and exhausted, wearing their troubles on their face as they continued their silent march. Between the trees they could see the ruins of the old city, destroyed buildings crouching in the darkness of the sunset. None of them could remember the city, but many of them knew they had its blood flowing through them. They were what remained of stuttgart.<br>
<br>
Suddenly the line stopped with a shrill cry of a whistle, leaving the men to take a slight respite to drink or talk amongst each other before the eventual second whistle to keep marching. Leona sat high on her horse, looking down at the men with worry tugging at the edges of her lips before looking out ahead of her as she urged her steed to pick up speed. After a few seconds she was trotting at a comfortable speed she reached the front of the line where her companions waited with an exasperated looking scout.<br>
<br>
His face was caked with grime and dirt and his chest heaved as if he had been running a marathon but nonetheless his expression was stalwart, something she didnt see every day among the scouts of all people. By the time she had rode up he was halfway through his report, words haphazardly stumbling out of his mouth.<br>
<br>
“-7 kilometers northwest i would say, they were held up by the hospital from what I could see.”<br>
<br>
Finla reached out, setting a gently hand on his shoulder, telling one of her subordinates to take him to rest before turning to Leona with a dour expression. The woman didn't want to imagine what would drive Finla of all people to don such a worried expression but she didnt have to.<br>
<br>
“Two of our scouts have been killed by some assholes hiding in the Hospital.” Her statement was blunt, the slightest hint of remorse lining the words. “I would advise making camp for the night so we can be ready in case we need to fight tomorrow.”<br>
<br>
Leona nodded and the woman grabbed the whistle hanging at her neck, two short, shrill cries notifying the tense soldiers that they were setting camp. There was a moment of silence that quickly broke into a sudden cacophony as the soldiers started to unpack and organize. Within minutes there were those setting up tents, officers tying up their horses, workers chopping down trees to clear out room and provide kindling. All the while Leona disembarked from her horse, tying it off to a rather thick tree before grabbing a large table and a few other supplies from the officers wagon, running her hand comfortably against the haunches of the horse before carrying them back to where the large tent was being set up. Setting the rudimentary table down on a rock she went back to grab more, only to find that the cart had already been removed of its contents and was currently being unhinged. Turning back around she watched as the tent rose up in the air, light leather darkening slightly as the water rolled across it. Letting out a small grunt she stepped into the tent, grabbing the papers and books and setting them on the table that had already been hastily set down in the center.<br>
<br>
With a careful hand she grabbed a box of matches from her satchel, pulling one out as she pulled open the small metal door to the lantern that was standing proudly on the tent. Light flooded the room as she lit the small stick, slowly reaching into the chamber of the lamp and waiting for the wick to catch light before suddenly flicking the match out into the mud, quickly putting it out.<br>
<br>
Setting that to the side she quickly grabbed one of the large scrolls, rolling it out to reveal a map from the old-world, the details overwhelming her for a moment as she adjusted her eyes to look for the important symbols. There were five crudely drawn houses where each ‘city’ of Hügelzustand as well as three squares to mark where each of the ‘bunker states’ were. They, however, were between those houses and the large O that had been marked on the map. That was their target. The woman ran her finger along the area until she found a large square sticking out of what she could only assume was farmland.<br>
<br>
“Roughly 7 kilometers” she didnt even realize she had said something until her friend Ava ducked into the tent, her raised eyebrow dramatically emphasizing the pensively curious expression that she had adopted.  “So what is with all the commotion?” Her honeyed voice suddenly brought Leona back to the present, her head snapping up to meet the other’s gaze as she flushed with embarrassment.<br>
<br>
Quickly collecting herself she waved the girl over, pointing towards the small area before taking a step back. She was almost completely sure that was the place, though she couldnt send any more scouts to go check the area, given the fate of the last two.<br>
<br>
“Two scouts were killed here, I say we should at least attempt to recover their bodies.” Her tone was forthrite, yet Ava knew when she could talk back to the Hochdame and this was such an occasion, her body straightening to get a few inches of height as she pulled her hair into a pony tail - holding it there for a  moment before letting it drop across her back. <br>
<br>
“If I may, I dont think that two scout bodies are worth the time we would lose or the effort in avoiding whoever killed them in the first place.” Her words were delicate, carefully placed, though her tone was deceptively stern. She was not going to have Leona derail this whole operation it would seem. A shuffling brought both of their attention suddenly to the entrance of the tent as Finla stepped through, sweat glistening across her brow. She must have been working with the men outside. Either way she was immediately ready to give her opinion, her words coming out mostly unhindered.<br>
<br>
“With all due respect...I think that Ava is right this time, we can’t do anything...at least not without proper recon.” Her words came between breaths, but carried enough weight to force Leona to take pause before rebutting, her voice flaring with annoyance. <br>
<br>
“Fine, but what if we did have proper recon?" She let the proposal sit for a moment before justifying it "I can’t let these people get away with killing one of our own, it will ruin morale at the least and at the worst, it shows weakness that we cant afford.”<br>
<br>
The two others looked uncomfortable for a moment, but only for a moment. Ava groaned to herself, sitting down on a crude stool that had been sitting upside down for a few minutes and Finla simply leaned against the table, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation. Another small gap of silence rose between the three, hanging in the air for a few seconds before being cut through by leona, her face pulling and twisting into an expression of determination.<br>
<br>
“Finla, I have a plan…” Her voice was pleading, as if she was cornered into begging her friends for their cooperation, and she hated it, but she had to - obviously she couldnt do anything without her commanders by her side. <br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- ">*****</span><br>
She wasn't sure how she had gotten herself roped into this mess, how she had let her friend and Hochdame convince her that crawling through the muddy fields surrounded by a darkness that was almost tangible in its density was the best idea. Nonetheless here she was, the sounds of metal pieces clinking together and the occasional grunt of effort the only things reminding her that she was not alone out here in the void. In the distance she could see their target, a towering silhouette that barely did not disappear into the background by the warm light of a lantern that would pass on one of the upper floors.<br>
<br>
A groan slipped from her lips as she pushed past an upheaved pile of mud, the wet dirt soaking into her arms and belly as she crawled over it, small flakes splattering onto her neck and cheeks but she didnt seem to mind. <i>Driven. That was the word many had used to describe her over the years, in addition to cold of course, and she wore it with pride. </i> Her and the men breached the crest of the hill, looking down across the expanse of the place, quickly noting that it was as large in breadth as it was in height - though much of the area had been destroyed in the bombings. Letting out a curt whistle a satisfied smile split across her face for a moment as she pulled the binoculars from her waist. They were old, but given the care she put into them they would have looked good as new - other than the mud that was all over them.<br>
<br>
All the windows were blown out and the right side seemed to have collapsed, though it wasn't obvious how long ago that happened. From what she could see there was ten guards patrolling, though she was aware that many more could be sleeping inside. Resisting her urge to attempt to pick them off she just sat there for a moment - absorbing the suffocating darkness and the cold air that brushed across her face with a whistle. <i>Driven</i>. The word flashed through her mind as she came back to reality, her eyes scanning along the hill line. The idea of charging them with her twenty men rose in her mind before she quickly shot it down. Calm, methodical, thoughtful strokes were the only way to win a war, and this was a war.<br>
<br>
A commotion far off to the side of the hospital snagged her attention, her binoculars zeroing in on a small fire with four or five silhouettes standing around it. They seemed to be normal sized, nothing special, but as she continued to watch she saw two more enter the light of the fire, a body dragging against the ground as they pulled it along. At first she thought it was a dead person, as it didn't seem to move much, but she quickly realized they were alive as their distant pleading screams reached her ears. Still, she continued to watch as they cocked a gun and pressed it against the persons head. There was a moment where she couldn't hear anything followed by the crack of a gunshot that echoed through the sky, waking slumbering birds off in the distance and causing them to flutter around.  <br>
<br>
They had seen enough.<br>
<br>
Another whistle, this time sounding more like an owl rousing from its nocturnal vigil in order to catch out its prey. Slowly, she heard the muffled chorus of soldiers moving rise from the darkness, providing her solace as she slowly crawled backwards down the hill. Without a word they slinked back into the darkness from whence they came, slowly crawling against the earth until they were sure they would not be seen. Once they were safe from being spotted the quickly stood up and jogged back to the camp in the woods.</div>
				
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