[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/oDzWQxE.jpg[/img][/center][center][h3]Act 1: In Which Strange Occurrences are Begot.
[sub][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QrNdBU_gb7o]Music[/url][/sub][/h3][/center]

A battered military cargo truck haphazardly painted a dull gray-blue, its paint chipping off in sections, shuddered along the patchy stretch of highway around the ass-end of Rassvet. The truck bumped and bobbed while barely maintaining its bearings as each wheel on a side fell a pothole. Sparse civilization gave way to rougher terrain, tweedy tan grass and short, shrubby trees that bowed lazily in the breeze, punctuated by the occasional outcropping of chalky stone. Here, there was no sign of the war, just as there was no sign of civilization- other than the rare road stop with its typical fixings. Just some kids piled into an old truck that frankly should've been decommissioned years ago with a roaring diesel engine held together by little more than a few loose bolts and hope, hanging on by straps tied to the rollbars and sitting on their field packs and cases of beer as they headed out for one last howl at the moon together- A road trip around Rassvet, to visit all the places they hadn’t had the chance to before. 

Then, after that, they shipped off to the dangerous and very adult business of war. After a decade together, training, eating, fighting, annoying one another, it was almost strange to be apart, since they knew they were going to be broken up from Barghest Squad into replacements for various depleted WARDEN outfits on the front.

[h3][sub]Brr[/sub]caa[sup]chh[/sup][sub]nnk[/sub]k[/h3]

The truck lifted several inches off the ground and the radio scratched, throwing booze and bodies into the air for a brief moment as the truck collided with another pothole at approximately 70 miles per hour. There was another collective round of light-hearted groans as the truck bounced again for what must have been the fifth time in the last 15 minutes.

[color=cyan]“For fucks sake, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were [i]trying[/i] to hit every damn hole on the High Road.”[/color] Gerard grumbled irritably, his hand banging on the back of the more or less open cabin of the actual truck. Gerard was sat uncomfortably in the back of the truck with the rest of the squad, his dark hair whipping around his face as they had pulled off the tarp for some light and air-flow in lieu of air-conditioning. The sights of the countryside were beautiful to behold though, even for a city slicker like him, if a bit barren. Some passing Wyverns were viewable in the far distance, a flock of a dozen dark-green ones flying out west away from the more occupied lands of Rassvet.

In the center of the truck bed- acting as a makeshift table was a squat crate with a board nailed to it, a big radio in the holding down one corner of a alcohol-stained road map of Rassvet, the other corners held down by a knife, a half drunken bottle, and a few decks of cards that were each likely missing at least one or two cards. Glancing at the map, they were probably less than a half hour away from the nearest rest stop- a small town called Sapple Springs.

[color=cyan]“Whose bright idea was it to let Kali drive?”[/color] Gerard remarked offhandedly, loud enough for the front of the truck to hear as well as he tossed a bottle of whiskey across the bed of the truck, telekinesis hitting it a moment later to guide it to the next open, waiting hand. Meanwhile, light rock and radio talk show phased in and out throughout the truck amidst crackling static, as the shaking shifted the already wobbly dials on the radio.

[color=darkgray][i]"-nd welcome back listeners of RPR and our continued coverage of the Vangar Conflict! There was hard fighting around the border town of Calty yesterday between Vangar and Rassvet forces in the current push to secure Fort Kelgrav. Brave Rassvet soldiers held out for several hours of fighting before making a tactical retreat to the neighboring town of Erret. On the Coastal Front: A supply carrier was sunk in the early hours of the morning a few miles off from Costa Del Sol by what appeared to be a Vangar Navy submarine. And in more hopeful news, Imperial Princess Colette Van Skymning, the youngest daughter of Emperor Léonard Van Skymning of Vangar arrives in Orestia late tomorrow as part of a peace delegation. Hostilities are set to temporarily cease at midnight tonight in preparation for said arrival. More on those talks within the hour."[/i][/color]

[color=cyan]”Don’t believe that for a second.”[/color] Gerard mocked the radio aloud, more to himself than anyone in particular, his hands already reaching for the radio dials. There was a sharp crack as he slapped the radio like one would a misbehaving child and the tune eventually shifted back to the light rock station. Gerard's sentiments weren’t new or uncommon- many, especially within the WARDENs, were rather skeptical about the idea of these peace talks having any particular effect, especially when up against a nation such as Vangar. As one of their own had so eloquently put it: Peace was a hard thing to work out when one country wanted complete and utter dominion over the other.