Eastern aggression has been on the rise since 1945. Russia and America nearly brought the world to it's knees because of ideological differences. North Korea threatened the Free World because of an egotistical leader. The Western world has never been free. It continues it's fight against the totalitarian states, but support and the will to survive is weakening. Crumbling. Freedom is not so much a right as it previously was. Peace is much more necessary to the people's minds now than freedom ever was. They want an end to this madness. And an end is what's coming.
Stabimus Fratres, in Bello Mori.
The Western Alliance has been beaten back, like a dog. A broken mutt. Europe has been laid to waste by Russia, a major component in the war machine that is the Eastern Offensive Pact (although often just regarded to as The Horde), fires blazing in the icy wastes of Scandinavia, and desolate resorts in France and Spain. Europe is no more than a wasteland, home to carrion birds and earthworms. On the other side of the globe, America is waging war on the North Korean and Chinese (an enemy the Alliance was not prepared too face) forces. The Philippines and Japan are the battlegrounds, with the home nations providing whatever support they can. Every island the Alliance loses, The Horde gains another ten or twenty soldiers. America is on her heels, and quickly losing balance.
The Alliance, in it's desperate need and ever shrinking highly-defensive locations, are worried. They have three new weapons of mass destruction: a re-development of Russia's Tsar Bomb with a yield of 2.7 gigatons. The same as the 1960 Chilean earthquake, which was felt over 6200 miles away. Three bombs, three targets. Moscow, Beijing, and Pyongyang. In there panicked state, they send the bombs to Britain, unaware of Russia's position in regards to the bleak isle. The WMD's are shipped up to Edinburgh, to be stored in Edinburgh Castle, arguably one of the greatest defensive situations in the world, but most importantly, not yet in the filthy paws of The Horde. The enemy cannot simply blow the area to pieces as this would remove the opportunity of having the weapons for themselves, and almost certainly kill everyone within thousands of miles, including the vast majority of the Russian forces.
Alliance top-brass had only heard of the Russian advance as the mass of Red was conforming in Norway and the bombs were already en-route to it's destination. It selected six of it's most decorated, most efficient, smartest, deadliest warriors it could produce. Each of these six Widow-Makers were given a fireteam, and a specific role in which it would fill. Six commanders, twenty four defenders, thirty guardians of Western civilisation, against a legion of death and strife.
The Western Alliance has been beaten back, like a dog. A broken mutt. Europe has been laid to waste by Russia, a major component in the war machine that is the Eastern Offensive Pact (although often just regarded to as The Horde), fires blazing in the icy wastes of Scandinavia, and desolate resorts in France and Spain. Europe is no more than a wasteland, home to carrion birds and earthworms. On the other side of the globe, America is waging war on the North Korean and Chinese (an enemy the Alliance was not prepared too face) forces. The Philippines and Japan are the battlegrounds, with the home nations providing whatever support they can. Every island the Alliance loses, The Horde gains another ten or twenty soldiers. America is on her heels, and quickly losing balance.
The Alliance, in it's desperate need and ever shrinking highly-defensive locations, are worried. They have three new weapons of mass destruction: a re-development of Russia's Tsar Bomb with a yield of 2.7 gigatons. The same as the 1960 Chilean earthquake, which was felt over 6200 miles away. Three bombs, three targets. Moscow, Beijing, and Pyongyang. In there panicked state, they send the bombs to Britain, unaware of Russia's position in regards to the bleak isle. The WMD's are shipped up to Edinburgh, to be stored in Edinburgh Castle, arguably one of the greatest defensive situations in the world, but most importantly, not yet in the filthy paws of The Horde. The enemy cannot simply blow the area to pieces as this would remove the opportunity of having the weapons for themselves, and almost certainly kill everyone within thousands of miles, including the vast majority of the Russian forces.
Alliance top-brass had only heard of the Russian advance as the mass of Red was conforming in Norway and the bombs were already en-route to it's destination. It selected six of it's most decorated, most efficient, smartest, deadliest warriors it could produce. Each of these six Widow-Makers were given a fireteam, and a specific role in which it would fill. Six commanders, twenty four defenders, thirty guardians of Western civilisation, against a legion of death and strife.
