[b][h3]West Koniginsberg, Northern Manitoba, Gottesland[/h3][/b]
[img]http://www.capetown.dj/people/CapeFlats/IMG_1226.JPG[/img]

	"[i]Shiiit![/i]", James Painter exclaimed in horror, as a cannon ball blasted through the barricade. He tumbled backward, shards of wood and rusted metal flying into his face. His ears rang violently. Endless thunderous cracks and bangs echoed through the town, as the Gottesland army continued their assault. Through his squinting eyes, he saw a nearby comrade jump up and return fire with his rifle, only to tumble backward, riddled with bullets.

	In preparation for the government's response, the rebellion had fortified the majority of Koniginsberg, barricading every major street into town, and stationing armed guards. Not that they thought this could ever repel the military. It was meant to be a show of force, to make negotiating easier when the government sent a representative. They weren't expecting this. This was a slaughter.

	The reality of James' own mortality sunk in. He had to get out of there. The rebellion had only just begun.

	"PULL BACK, MEN!", he bellowed as loud as he could, "PULL BACK!". "INTO THE CITY! PULL BACK!"

	Sure enough, even through the rain of bullets and the endless roar of gunshots, his men heard the call for retreat. One by one, ducking below what remained of the barricade, they turned around and sprinted into the city. Hoisting himself upright, and rising to his feet, James followed quickly behind them. As he ran, he glanced over his shoulder, to see the army in its full glory. It was something to behold. All along the horizon, stood thousands of uniformed soldiers, clad in their signature brown coats. As they fired, groupings of about a hundred marched forward, one after another. All raising and aiming their rifles in unison. Before he could even register what happened next, his vision went dark, and he fell to the ground with a weighty thump.

	Laying there on the cold stone street, the pain hit him. He curled inward and lifted his hands to his face, writhing from the shock. They hit his eye! His breathing grew shallow, and panic overwhelmed him. He had to keep going. They were going to kill him!

	With all the strength he could muster, James again rose to his feet. Hunched over, and bleeding profusely, hardly able to see out of one tear-soaked eye, he shambled onward. The thundering continued behind him. Onward, he kept going, as another cannonball struck a nearby roof, sending more shrapnel cascading onto him. It didn't matter, he had to keep going. A sharp stab of pain jolted from his lower back, as more bullets whizzed past him. Still, he went.

	Tripping around the street corner, he slowed his pace and attempted to catch his breath. He was out of the line of fire. Seeing an open door ahead, he dove forward and swung himself inside. Rapidly growing dizzy, he looked around, and saw the friendly faces of two of his men. They ushered him through a latch door in the floor, before following him in. The door swung shut, and he was surrounded by darkness.

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[b][h3]East Koniginsberg, Northern Manitoba, Gottesland[/h3][/b]


	Lady Victoria sat at her desk in the mayor's former office. She glanced out the window, to see him hanging from a nearby tree. Smirking, she wondered how much longer it would be before the government's dignitary arrived. She had been reciting her demands all morning. Then she heard it.

	[i]Off in the distance, from across town, gunshots rang through the air. [/i]

	"... the hell?", she muttered to herself, furrowing her brow. "What are those savages doing?"

	It was probably nothing. Perhaps a warning shot, to show the government officials that the rebels weren't going to take 'no' for an answer.

	[i]More gunshots rang. Far louder, and more numerous.[/i]

	She rose from her desk, startled.

	[i]Then came the great roar of a cannon volley.[/i]

	Walking quickly, she headed for the office door. Opening it, she began looking around for her personal guards.

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[b][h3]Gottesland United Force's Rear Military Camp, Northern Manitoba, Gottesland[/h3][/b]


	"General, sir!", a peppy young messenger spouted.

	"What is it corporal?", Luke MacFearghus-Koln responded wearily, leaning back in his chair and gazing up at the green fabric of the outpost's command tent.

	"The assault is successfully underway. We're encountering minimal resistance, and should have full occupation of the city within a couple hours."

	"... expected.", the general mumbled in response.

	"Sir?"

	"As expected", he clarified with a bit more aggression. "Here, deliver this to Argyllsberg", he added, scratching away at a piece of paper and handing it to the kid.

	"Yes sir!", the corporal responded, before turning about face, and marching outside the tent. Walking to the stables, he glanced at the note in his hand. It read:

		[i]We won,
		-General MacFearghus-Koln[/i]


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[b][h3]Parliament, Argyllsberg[/h3][/b]
[img]http://i.cbc.ca/1.2138865.1382506623!/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/16x9_460/tp-supremecourt-cbc.jpg[/img]


	Prime Minister Steinmann gazed apprehensively through the front windows of the parliament building, watching the strange convoy be escorted through town. Surrounded by Argyllsberg city guards, a rusted-out pickup truck lurched forward, carrying four equally filthy people. He did his best to wipe the scowl from his face.

	The truck screeched to a halt at the foot of building's staircase, and the passengers hopped out. Steinmann fussed with his jacket and tie for a moment. He had no doubt he'd look like a king to these hicks. Glancing back out the window, his eyes grew wide as one of the individuals began to tussle with the guards. With the utmost haste, he burst through the front door, and trotted down the stone steps.

	"[i]Halt![/i]", he commanded to the guards. "[i]Mein dear guests, vut is ze problem?[/i]", he inquired of the foreigners.

	"Huh?", one man responded, attempting to parse the accent. "... Oh, uhhh, your guards don't speak English. We were looking around, and they started grabbing at us."

	"[i]Ah! Mai apologies. It vus a misunderstandink.[/i]", Steinmann attempted to explain. "[i]Zey vur just tryink to show you zee vey to mein office.[/i]"

	Steinmann looked the foreigners over for a moment, before realizing that one of the filthy hicks was Gottesland's diplomat.

	"[i]Ah, Houk! Vhy did you not translate for zem?[/i]", he exclaimed.

	"Sorry sir", the diplomat responded. "It all happened too fast."

	"[i]Vell enough, let us be goink. Zee president is vaiting inside.[/i]", Steinmann sighed, gesturing to the foreigners to follow him.

	Three doors and two flights of stairs later, they all sat in the Prime Minster's office.

	"So", said President MacFearghus-Koln to the guests, "as it seems to me, our nations are a match made in heaven. Our farmers will be happy to feed their southern neighbours, so that they never know hunger again. In exchange, we require a portion of your supply of metals, so as to maintain the farming equipment we'll be using to feed your people. However, my sources had left me unaware that you had the resources to fuel and maintain gasoline vehicles. We would like a small portion of your gasoline reserve to go with your shipments, so that we may share in the prosperity of pre-war vehicles. Likewise, any spare military equipment would be greatly appreciated, and rewarded. You must understand, we are a peaceful people, but it is still vitally important that we protect ourselves, and not fall behind the rest of the world on technology. In return for this, our shipments will include the finest Canadian softwood lumber, so that you can continue to grow without losing too much of your own green-space. Do we have an agreement?"

	"I can promise common metals.", the southern diplomat responded. "Beyond that, I'll have to check."

	"Very well", the president concluded. "Then I'll sent you off with our first shipment of food and lumber, as a sign of good will. From there, I'll take whatever you sent back as the answer."

	"Sounds good to me", the diplomat agreed.

	"Oh, and I'm afraid that we don't have any fuel to offer you, to get your truck back home. Instead, I'll muster a caravan for you, drawn by our strongest horses. Take them as a gift as well."

	"Alright", pondered the diplomat. "I accept the generosity."

	"Good, good. Mister Houk will show you to the stables, to ensure there are no further misunderstandings. And to oversee the assembly of the shipment", MacFearghus-Koln stated. "[i]Herr Houk.[/i]"

	"[i]Jawohl?[/i]", Houk saluted.

	"[i]Gib ihm das beschissen pferde, sondern geben ihnen das gute holz.[/i]", MacFearghus-Koln commanded with a smile. "[i]Und, demontieren das fahrzeug.[/i]"

	"Jawohl, Herr Prasident", he responded respectfully.

	With that, the men were escorted out.