Abefroeman

Pro Patria Mori - A Tale of Sailships and Muskets II

TL/DR

King Nikolaos, at the behest of his trusted advisors, agrees to the land invasion of Paranas. Their goal is to strike quickly and tactically, focusing on the southern regions of the country, keeping the Balkan Mountains between them and the rest of Paranas, and more importantly, between Khazaria. The army will focus on three operational areas, with the goal of forcing any land based conflicts on the lands of Paranas rather than their own. Paranas has tipped the balance of favor in Khazaria, and as such, King Nikolaos has sent a delegation to Reria, asking for their help, if they are able and willing to commit to such a conflict. Altenten appears to be unwilling to help, much to the dismay of King Nikolaos. He had hoped his father in law would have been able to do more, but it appears that he is more concerned with preserving his forces and treasury.

Paranas will now be the focus of conflict for Komentiolos, with the following:
1. Cavalry will act independently of the army, serving as raiders and scouts.
2. Army is to push fast and hard, with the goal of taking the passes in the Balkan Mountains. Army led by General Marcian Augustus.
--2a. Army will leave behind forces in the event of a settlement requiring a siege, but bulk to press towards main goal.
--2b. Focus on "Defeat in Detail", using terrain and distance to advantage. Pick enemies off one by one, do not allow combining.
--2c. Army will travel lightly, living off the land to avoid long baggage trains.
--2d. Artillery will be not be spread out, instead focused into large mobile batteries, to coordinate firepower for greater effect.
--2e. Corps Organization, division of forces into corps capable of operating independently, and then coming together for battle.
--2f. Focus on Destruction, bring about utter destruction of enemy armies. Goal is not just to defeat or dislodge, its smash them decisively in a single battle, removing their ability to fight and forcing them to negotiation on our terms.
--2g. Move Onto the Rear, sever lines of communication and supply, maneuver into enemies rear area and wreak havoc.
--2h. Central Position, when facing more than one enemy/enemy army that is divided. Hold a central position, split enemies apart. Hold one off with a relatively small part of army, while defeating the other force.
3. Navy to operate in tandem with Army, landing forces at Anchialos/Antheia in the north, and Selymbria in the south. Gain control over crucial ports/harbors to force surrender of garrison forces in primary cities. Navy led by Admiral Zeno Rousombladadiotes.
4. Mandatory conscription of all male citizens, aged 18 to 40. Bolster the army/ensure sufficient numbers to hold the line.

Trapezus, Northern Coast of Komentiolos, Military Wharf

King Nikolaos stood stiffly, looking down at the flurry of activity in the wharf. Damaged ships were being hastily repaired, while others, too damaged for further combat, stood off to the side, their fate yet to be decided. He turned away from the scene, looking instead to his officer corps, the studied and veteran military men who were the ones to conduct whether or not this venture into war would result in victory, a white peace, or another defeat at the hands of the Khazarians. Admiral Basiliscus stood under the awning of a tent, quietly discussing matters with his subordinates, his face beaded with sweat, as the heat of the day began to reach its zenith. Other officers moved about in a hurried fashion, off on an errant quest to deliver dispatches, or to check up on the progress of another cadre of military minds. Turning back to face the wharves, King Nikolaos took a few more steps towards the old fortress walls that had protected the city for centuries. 'There was no turning back, no matter the outcome now', he thought to himself, leaning forward to survey the situation to the best of his abilities. 'I will not invade by land... not again, not like my forebears did so long ago.' His eyes looking as the damaged hull of a Brig-of-War was being repaired. 'They control the great steppes and plains of their empire, like no other. The mountains shield us, shield the people, from the vastness of their mounted forces. To abandon those natural barriers... I'd invite envelopment like the Dorist forces,' He sighed, looking back up towards the vastness of the Black Sea. Out there, was his enemy, and worsening the situation, was the intervention of the Paranas navy. From the observations of front line commanders and from Admiral Basiliscus himself, the enemy had effectively doubled its forces upon the Black Sea.

He muttered a curse in Latin, before standing fully upright, straightening his clothing, and turning to face the officer corps once more. "Honored friends and commanders, let us take a walk, I hear that the Temple Panaghia Chrysokephalos is particularly beautiful to lay ones eyes upon. I think we all need a break from this heat, and time to pray before Neptune will bring clarity." The king did not wait for an answer, and turned leading the way to the majestic place of worship. The Temple Panaghia Chrysokephalos was the center of worship in Trapezus, and the region itself. Royal guards quickly rode ahead, clearing the way for the king and his retinue, who soon arrived, trading their garb for more traditional vestments of relaxation and thought within the sacred sanctum.



Hours had passed since the men had entered the temple, to where the sun was now well into the low of the sky once more. King Nikolaos spoke, breaking the silence, his legs cooling in the waters.

"Then it is agreed. Operation Vulcan will be conducted within the fortnight. General Flavius will hold the line along the Testudo, with the forces already allocated to him, plus an additional two thousand in reserve, able to quickly move along the line where needed. He will ensure that our land borders remain sealed to any horsemen, and that we can operate without fear of Khazaria harassing the Themes of Tyrus and Ptolemais. The majority of the military forces allocated to raid the coasts of Khazaria shall be diverted to Naval Task Force Tempestas, along with the agreed upon contingent of marines as well. Admiral Verina will continue to operate in the East, drawing the enemies forces away, doing what he can to stall any counter-attacks until we are at least five days into the operation. Furthermore, Admiral Verina deemed it necessary to resort to the use of Greek Fire, and we are to divert readily available supplies to him, along with ordering the Alchemist Guild to double their production runs of this weapon. The situation is dire, as both Verina and Flavius have put it, along with Augustus and Rousombladadiotes. Dorist is all but defeated, Altenten has bowed out from war, Kalseran is on the verge of civil war, and unless our request for aid from Reria is answered, we are alone against two foes. The time to fight honorably, like civilized soldiers, is gone. We do not fight civilized men... we fight monsters in the dark, boogeymen who ride upon horseback and rape and pillage the world." He paused, walking over to an old, hand crafted map of the Black Sea. The rich colors and stone work displayed in detail the region in great detail, at least when much of it was under former Imperial control. Some things changed no doubt, but the land doesn't and that was what mattered most.

"Admiral Verina, if you are confident in your abilities, then I also give the go ahead for nighttime operations in your theater, and the freedom to conduct the war as you see fit. Fight battles to conserve our strength, as you pointed out, our losses are starting to way upon us, but do not, under any circumstance, get trapped in harbors and ports. The garrisons have ample supplies of Greek Fire, and will make use of it to ensure that no ships dare sail into our safe havens. You are in charge of the East, and do what you can to see that we do not lose control of our waters..." He turned and pointed at the map, standing in the water now, wading into the center of the very map itself, going over the plan once again with his officers, whom had convened this was the only option to stave off war upon their own lands. Shortly, King Nikolaos was joined by General Augustus and Admiral Rousombladadiotes, whom with the help of aids, showcased their plan to force Paranas to focus their efforts elsewhere.



Tired and sore after another two hours of planning and going over the smallest details, they all agreed, invade Paranas with all due haste, and bring war to them, before they could do the opposite. Local garrisons would supplement the main body of the army, with interior garrison forces brought forward to take over for the mobilized forces on the homefront. There were so many details, that had it not been for Valentinian, the issue regarding the Theme of Aegyptus would have been overlooked. A quick dinner was had, before King Nikolaos read the dispatches from his younger brother once more, and then conveyed his own orders and permissions.

"Exarchos Arcadius Koromelas, I wish you best in these coming times, for the Gods contend to test us of our faith. First, if I had not told you, my wife is pregnant with our first child, and I hope you and your wife soon have the same blessing as us.

Your reports of rebels and raiders in the desert sands and dunes is but a curse that has plagued the region since antiquity. The Bedouins have always chafed under any and all who ruled them except themselves. However, their apparent coordinated attacks speaks to something more sinister than an inbred desire to thumb their noses at the rightful rulers of the lands they squat upon. Perhaps a local noble has grown bold in their desire to crown themself an Emir, which I much prefer, as that is easier to track down and quash, though if we are unlucky, these machinations come from further abroad. Make use of the Expeditionary Forces as you see fit, and your own local auxiliary legions. You know the land best, and to you, I ask only that you keep the flow of trade and resources unhindered. If you feel you can root out pockets of rebels, by all means, do so, however, do not risk needless raids into the sands. The tales of old, that our uncle told us, speak that it is foolhardy to stray too far from civilization.

May Minerva grant you wisdom, Mars grant your army strength, and Diana grant you fruit in your hunt for these rebels and their puppet masters. If you need anything, ask it, and I will do all I can to help.

King Nikolaos II of Komentiolos"

Pro Patria Mori - A Tale of Sailships and Muskets II

Tarsus, Royal Palace, The War Room

Taking a deep breath, King Nikolaos leaned back into the upholstered chair, studying the known strategic layout of the precarious situation in which he found his nation, and his allies, in. To the north, Khazaria and its slavic allies raged war against the Dorist, to the west, the friendly republic of Kalseran festered with unrest and talk of civil war. The Lions wanted war, while the Elephants wanted to focus on trade and economic prosperity. War, both good and bad, was looking to be ever more inescapable. Here on this table, little wooden and metal pieces did not tell the whole picture, that each piece equated to a number of real flesh and blood lives, that would be lost regardless of the outcome. Gathered around were the king's closest advisors and military officers. They all looked to the king for his next move, eyeing him cautiously.

Valentinian and his tired face, General Flavius and his hunger for war, Admiral Verina and his pale skin, the cadre of lesser officers, and the stand ins for his other two top officers, Augustus and Rousombladadiotes, who couldn't make it back from their posts at the moment. Standing up, King Nikolaos made his way over to a large window overlooking the port of Tarsus, looking down at the glittering sea, the birds soaring on the warm drafts of air from the day. The advisors all looked at their king as he moved. "Valentinian, join me by the window, old friend." King Nikolaos sounded tired, but resolute. The aged advisor hurried over to the king's side, bowing his head as the two looked out on the sea. Both stood in silence for a while longer, before Nikolaos spoke quietly, barely above a whisper.

"What do you see, my friend? Look closely, before answering." Nikolaos sounded cryptic, his hands held behind his back. He seemed to be staring intently at something. Valentinian gazed down at the port, taking in all the scenery, from ships, cargo, men, women, livestock, the hustle and bustle of a lively trading port. Next, he looked to the flags of the multitude of nations that docked in Tarsus, both near and far, minor and great. All flags present, except for the vile banner of Khazaria. "I don't see any ships from Khazaria, your grace." He turned, looking back at the king.

"How astute of you Valentinian. But for how long, until we see the Mediterranean choked with those savages? Years, perhaps, maybe months?" King Nikolaos turned and looked to his war council, speaking now to them all, "Any guesses?"

It was Admiral Verina who stood up and spoke, his pale skin making him seem ghostly amongst all the tanned men. "If unchecked and unchallenged, fifteen months, before they will spill out from the Black Sea into the greater Mediterranean, your grace. For now, they huddle in the Sea of Azov, making sporadic voyages out into the Black Sea. We retain control over the Caspian, but soon, they'll grow bold and challenge us there as well." The admiral's voice was thin and wispy, yet behind it held a hardness of great knowledge and cold steel. "We've stood as the final barrier between the hordes of Khazaria and the rest of Europe, the world beyond that. As we stand, our navy outnumbers their fledgling attempts of naval power, their ships are of foreign design and under license. Furthermore, from what our privateers have returned to us, the quality of construction is lacking, flawed, yet that will not last. We have Sloops, Sloops of War, Brigantines, Brigs, Brigs of War, and a few single deck Frigates. If what you are asking is what I believe it to be, then I agree, we must strike hard and fast, without hesitation, but not with reckless abandon." Admiral Verina retook his seat, smoothing his uniform out.

King Nikolaos smiled, nodding as he walked back over to the table, looking down at the regional map that was laid out. He pointed to the narrow strait that separated the Black Sea from the Mediterranean Sea. "We shall focus on a three part operation to bring to heel the vile beast that is Khazaria. Admiral Verina, your reports indicated that the last of our southern naval forces tasked to report to Northern command sailed through last night. We shall henceforth blockade the Bosporus Strait to any and all naval traffic of Khazaria and ships bound for Khazaria. Coordinate with your subordinates to ensure this is done without delay." King Nikolaos moved his hand to grasp an indicating stick, then pointed to the Black Sea.

"Here, is our main theater of war. Our folly the last time we went to war with these northern horse devils was fighting them on land, too far from the sea and our strength. The army shall be subordinate to the navy in this conflict." King Nikolaos paused as he was interrupted by General Flavius, who stood up abruptly.

"Your Grace, I must protest. We're hardly the akin to the old army that lost centuries ago. We have cannon and rifle, bayonet and mortars… we can surely invade these unwashed hordes lands and take back what we lost. Just look to the forces we have stationed along the border, they alone could…" General Flavius stopped, cut short by the Komentiolian King holding his hand up.

"General Flavius, what separates us from Khazaria? What type of terrain lies in the border region? Before you puff out your chest, bemoaning your sovereign's decisions, at least allow me to speak in full before interjecting. Khazaria is primarily flat lands, rolling steppes that span for many leagues, no natural cover, nothing to hinder an army whose sole purpose has been mounted warfare for the last five hundred years at least. Your army will have its glory, mind you. The border garrisons will hold the line in the Lesser Caucasus, and only that. This isn't about lands to the north, this is about rebuilding and reclaiming our lost lands to the south without fear of intervention by a meddlesome upstart realm of tent dwelling horsemen." The king walked away from the table and back to the window overlooking the port.

"We shall hold the line in the mountains. The passes are steep and treacherous, not to mention when winter comes, snowed in. The army and navy will work together, first, obliterating any and all enemy naval forces they come upon, secondly, the sacking and razing of all enemy coastal settlements. The army will be tasked with ensuring the settlements, large and small, are in no shape to produce supplies for our enemy. No ships, food, trade, nothing. Gentlemen, I entrust you to see this to fruition. We shall sweep aside their pathetic navy, and rain fire upon them." King Nikolaos sat back down, watching his officers debate back and forth. They spoke of strategy, logistics, force disposition, duration, and on down the list. As these gathered military men crafted their plan of attack, King Nikolaos drank his tea quietly, watching them with interest.

After many hours, and a break for food and fresh air, the council returned, ready to go over their final plans. Admiral Verina and General Flavius spoke together, showcasing their joint operations plan. The naval forces would split into three prongs, "Like a desert scorpion…" General Flavius added, West, Center, and East, along with the Caspian Sea fleet, would all sail out in force one week from now, on the evening of the fresh moon. The army, aboard Merchantmen, would follow along the naval forces, tasked with sacking enemy settlements as the navy cleared the waters of Khazarian forces. As the campaign progressed, they'd link up in a pincer fashion, striking at the Crimean peninsula and the Sea of Azov.

The overall goal of the war plan was simple in nature, split into three parts. 1) Remove the Khazarian naval presence from the Black Sea, to include destruction of commercial vessels. 2) Raid and sack coastal settlements quickly, before returning to sea. Our goal is to create chaos and instability, not hold land. 3) Hold the line in the lower Caucasus. Defensive fortifications are to be defended at all times, and if need be, destruction of critical bridges, roads, and mountain passes, to hinder enemy movement.

After all this, there was still a few things left to discuss, chiefly, the civil unrest in the allied nation of Kalseran. All agreed that sending troops to quell any unrest would be seen as a foreign invasion and make things worse, if not outright spreading more unrest further. It was agreed that local mercenaries would be employed to guard Komentiolian property, while a diplomatic party would be sent to try and make contact with the rebels to see if they could be negotiated with for a peaceful solution, at the very least concerning Komentiolian people and property. However, it was decided that until the unrest had ended, or an agreement was reached, all non military traffic into Komentios from Kalseran would be restricted.

King Nikolaos was tired when the council finally ended, saying his goodbyes and small talk, before making his way to his quarters. He promptly bathed, enjoying the respite, before crawling into bed next to his wife. She stirred, moving to hold him close, a smile barely visible on her face. Whispered loving words crept up to him, something that made him thrilled beyond the greatest feats of yonder, "I'm with child, my love… "

Pro Patria Mori - A Tale of Sailships and Muskets II

Tarsus, Royal Palace, King's Private Garden - Sunrise with the Queen.

His lovely wife lay nestled against him, herself lightly dozing, enjoying the warmth and comfort of her husband. He smiled, kissing the top of her head, before looking out at the world, gazing at the sea to his south, and to the horizon of the east. She'd told him that she was pregnant, no longer did she bleed, and that they'd finally conceived a child. He was so overjoyed, yet, here he sat, his mind moving like a storm against the brilliance of such information. He sighed quietly, holding his wife closer, feeling her form against his own in the embrace, stilling the storm for a moment, before turning course, and heading headlong into it. Later today, he'd have to helm the ship of his nation's future.

The Generals and their officer had completed their readiness inspections, going over the entire nations forces twice, before informing King Nikolaos that they had fifty thousand active duty troops, with perhaps many more in reserve status, though most if not all those extra men had gotten back to their lives, farming, sailing, mending, being civilians. They would be rusty, even considering their mandatory military service in their youth, and the occasional regional call ups and drills. Would fifty thousand be enough, if Europe turned into an unfettered war? The border between Komentiolos and Khazaria had been heavily fortified, the length of the mountain passes spiked, dugout, caltroped, and evened featured Fougasses, which he was told was an improvised mortar dug into the ground and filled with gunpowder and projectiles. In short, if the horse devils dared to march south overland, they'd be slowed down heavily to allow for more troops to be deployed to the region. He did not trust that boy emperor, and much to the annoyance of other commands, thirty of the nations field guns were attached to the regional defense forces, on top of all their permanent gun emplacement.

For now, he pondered to himself as his wife stirred, let the troops drill and train, as well as the artillery corps. Let them enjoy going home to their families at the end of the day. He'd let Valentinian know to inform local Kyrios and Kyrias to inform their militias to train as well, and prepare dispatches to reservists to report in for monthly drills. His main concern however was the disposition of his naval forces. So much coast line to defend, and of course, enemy coasts to attack if it came to that. Twenty seven frigates and seventy five sloops, formidable and numerous, but not enough. He and his advisors had debated for days, even weeks, but the matter was settled, build the nation's navy up, to at least forty five frigates, and at least one hundred and thirty sloops. This of course in conjunction with the outside orders for ships from Hispalis. The logistics of it had been frustrating, not to include an organized strike by workers, which almost lead into an all-out riot, if not for the intervention of the Queen and the men's wives, who had peacefully worked things out. They were scared and tired, hungry and overworked. Nikolaos kissed his wife, before watching the sun barely begin to crest the horizon. Better provisions, as well as using prison labor to construct the new dock yards and slips to build the expanded navy, to help lessen the strain on his skilled labor. What a day that had been, though even that was in the past now.

Time was short, he smiled, looking down at his wife while she moved again, snuggling closer to her husband. Hand atop her belly, he made up his mind for now, so that he could get back to enjoying time with Queen Anna. He himself, along with an honor guard larger than normal, would attend the state dinner of King Freud, and hear what he had to say and propose. Let the savages know who all stood against them and their unchecked aggression. He was sure the Kyrios and Kyrias for war would be pleased, but this was not for them alone, he himself had grown tired of hearing how the mongrels of the north raided with impunity. King Freud appeared to be an honorable man, and Nikolaos planned to closer their relations through this dinner, via trade, non-aggression towards one another, and perhaps, even a defensive alliance. Of course, the two nations alliance depended on if the Kalseran leader would allow for military access to her nation, in order to allow for Komentilian troops to not have to make the extensive naval voyage all the way around continental Europe. Her nation held a much closer path to meet up with the potential Dorist allies.

Lastly, he would have to plan a dispatch to the Kingdom of Hispalis and to Aegyptus, to first hopefully further strengthen relations to those who controlled the narrow straights leading out into the greater world, and of course, could reduce the flow of trade. While second, to answer his brother's request to formally marry the daughter of the most powerful noble family in the colony, which both the family and his brother said, would allow for the proper turnover of the colony into a true and rightful part of Komentiolos once again, as it had been before the dreadful civil war that fractured the Eastern Diorite Empire. The Theme of Aegyptus, it certainly sounded nice. He kissed his wife once more, and held her close as together, they watched the sun finally rise across their Kingdom.

Pro Patria Mori - A Tale of Sailships and Muskets II

Tarsus, Royal Palace, King's Private Garden

The sun had just begun to rise, cresting over the lands far to the East. Sighing, King Nikolaos made his way over to his prized vegetable garden, quietly humming to himself as he watered each and every plant. Taking great care in making sure they all received ample water, he ran his callused hands over the leaves, before rubbing the soil between his fingers. The onions were growing healthily, perhaps his most prized plants, though he could not linger on them alone for too long. His newest planter required his fullest attention, a bed of flowers hailing from the far flung corners of the realm, ready to be enjoyed by his soon to be new wife. Movement off to the side caught the King's chocolate brown eyes, as he turned to see who had come to visit him.

"Valentinian, my friend, what brings you up here so early in the morning? I haven't lost track of time watering my garden again, have I?" The king asked mirthfully, his teeth beaming through his smile.

"No your grace, certainly not, you're doing just fine on time. I must apologize, but there is something that begs of your attention, if you don't mind the intrusion." The middle aged man bowed, his attire denoting his role as an advisor to the king. He looked tired and worn, but returned the king's smile. "I promise to be quick, and then you can return to the future Queen's garden."

"Of course Valentinian, please, sit and have some tea with me, it will do you good, and promise me, you'll take a nap before today's wedding ceremonies." The king set down the watering container, making his way over to a regal looking table, oddly out of place compared to his advisors attire, being garbed in what could amount to commoners clothing than that of a king.

Valentinian quickly made his way to the table, graciously accepting the hotly poured tea offered to him, before sitting down and setting before the king a mixture of military dispatches and personal correspondence. Taking a measured sip, the advisor set the cup down. "General Flavius has sent his reports and updates detailing the progress of the Northern border defenses. They are almost complete with the Eastern fortifications, however, General Flavius requests an additional thousand men to help with construction."

"Give him two thousand, and let him know he is to ensure those filthy Khazarian dogs aren't to cross into our lands anymore. I'm tired of receiving dispatches of their meddlesome raids. I don't care if that ponce of an emperor denys his hand in it, however, if it continues, we'll need to contact Admiral Verina and let him loose among those floundering twits and their little trade ships." The king drank deeply from his tea, before placing his seal upon the hastily written command.

"Next, your grace, is from your brother, who wishes you well and love in your marriage. He sends word that the efforts to bring Aegyptus into the dominion of your kingdom are progressing well, all things considered. The expeditionary forces and the colonial militia have maintained order, even with the occasional Bedouin raids, and the usual malcontents. He sends word that the trade routes overland have been fortified, with garrisons ensuring the free flow of trade. Last, he sends word of negotiations between him and the local nobility, of which may change the balance of power into our favor, and away from the deposed pretender king." Valentinian set the letter down, enjoying his tea while the king read the letter himself.

"Good, good. He has done well thus far, may the gods bless him with more good fortune. I'll write him personally when time permits, for now, send my warmest thanks to him, and let him know he is instrumental in bringing Aegyptus back into the realm."

The last was a letter from Kyrios Rousombladadiotes, the wise ruler of the Theme of Cyzicus. A proud patriot none could doubt, however, he was the leader of the isolationist faction within Komentiolos, and he voiced what many worried about, being drug into a Western European conflict. "Your grace, your favorite Kyrios has written to you again, wishing to speak with you on matters concerning our involvement with Altenten. He is nervous as usual, complaining how such an endeavor could lead us to being drug into war. His usual list of worries." Valentinian signed, setting his cup down, now empty of tea.

"Send him, and the rest of the Kyrios and Kyrias, that I shall convene an open council in one weeks time. Tell them they are formally invited to speak their minds, and see what is to be made of this concern of Western nations." Nikolaos smiled, finishing his tea in turn.

"Valentinian, let's enjoy my wedding day without further matters of state. You should enjoy yourself too. Rest, eat, and drink. This is a joyous day, and I will not let some worrywarts rain upon the celebration. Go, I'll be down in a little, I must finish watering my wife's surprise." The king laughed softly, standing up to his full height, before biding Valentinian goodbye.

"May the Gods bless your marriage, your grace." Valentinian bowed deeply, before departing, leaving the king alone with his garden.

Pro Patria Mori - A Tale of Sailships and Muskets II

@Romero, sir, when filling out the rest of the map, are you referring to npc nations?

Pro Patria Mori - A Tale of Sailships and Muskets II

Kingdom of Komentiolos

Kingdom of Komentiolos

Portrait of Leader

King Nikolaos II

Name of Leader: King Nikolaos Andreas Koromelas II
Age: 38

National Capital:Tarsus
National Currency: Pontus
National Languages: Greco

Nation Claim

Nation Claim Map and Province names

1. Cyzicus
2. Bithynia
3. Cappadocia
4. Osroene
5. Cilicia, location of capital, Tarsus
6. Tyrus
7. Ptolemais

Nation Demographics

Nation Size: 7
Population: 7
Homogeneity: 7

Colonial Demographics

Colonial Holdings: 1
Colonial Stability: 5
Colonial Influence: 4

Army

Infantry Strength: 6
Infantry Quality: 5
Infantry Logistics: 7
Cavalry Strength: 1
Cavalry Quality: 3
Cavalry Logistics: 3
Artillery Strength: 4
Artillery Quality: 6
Artillery Logistics: 7
Army Commander Quality: 7

Navy

Ship of the Line Strength: 0
Ship of the Line Quality: 0
Ship of the Line Logistics: 0
Cruiser Strength: 7
Cruiser Quality: 8
Cruiser Logistics: 8
Naval Commander Quality: 7

Economics

Development of Low Industry: 7
Development of Middle Industry: 5
Development of High Industry: 8

Pro Patria Mori - A Tale of Sailships and Muskets II

Let me know if this needs any changes/modifications to be acceptable. Here is my submission and application to your NRP.

Kingdom of Komentiolos

Kingdom of Komentiolos

Portrait of Leader

King Nikolaos II

Name of Leader: King Nikolaos Andreas Koromelas II
Age: 38

National Capital:Tarsus
National Currency: Pontus
National Languages: Greco

Nation Claim

Nation Claim Map and Province names

1. Cyzicus
2. Bithynia
3. Cappadocia
4. Osroene
5. Cilicia, location of capital, Tarsus
6. Tyrus
7. Ptolemais

Nation Demographics

Nation Size: 7
Population: 7
Homogeneity: 7

Colonial Demographics

Colonial Holdings: 1
Colonial Stability: 5
Colonial Influence: 4

Army

Infantry Strength: 6
Infantry Quality: 5
Infantry Logistics: 7
Cavalry Strength: 1
Cavalry Quality: 3
Cavalry Logistics: 3
Artillery Strength: 4
Artillery Quality: 6
Artillery Logistics: 7
Army Commander Quality: 7

Navy

Ship of the Line Strength: 0
Ship of the Line Quality: 0
Ship of the Line Logistics: 0
Cruiser Strength: 7
Cruiser Quality: 8
Cruiser Logistics: 8
Naval Commander Quality: 7

Economics

Development of Low Industry: 7
Development of Middle Industry: 5
Development of High Industry: 8

Eden(Small-scale Space NRP)

Royal Orleans Orbital Expeditionary Fleet over Duro One - R.O.N. Feu d'âme, Bretagne-Class Battleship, Maréchal Bournonville's Flagship.

Summary/Spark Notes - Duro One Conflict

Maréchal de Orleans, Vincent de Bournonville, has taken command of the conflict rapidly continuing to devolve on Duro One. As he is quickly brought up to speed, the depraved forces of President Gray launch a surprise attack upon the orbiting Orleans fleet. Their victory is short lived, as Bournonville retaliates by finally unleashing the fleet to rain fire down upon military installations upon Duro One, knowing that there will be more civilian casualties as a result.

Elsewhere, an Airborne Brigade is dropped in from orbit to link up with beleaguered foreign national forces struggling to keep rebel forces out of the embassy district of the capital.

Full Story - Maréchal Bournonville in action.

It had happened so quickly, one moment, the ships were there, the next, blinding light and rippling shock waves. Alarms blared throughout the ship, crewmen strapping into their stations as others ran to their own. The hulking, burning wrecks of at least five ships sputtered and splintered apart, their once bright white hulls stained black and crimson. Maréchal de Bournonville hissed through his teeth as he finished placing the receiver back into its cradle as he began barking out orders. The little bastards had finally shown their hand, deranged murders that they were. A Goddess forsaken ground based orbital defense cannon. By the number of shots, it was a complex of guns. Whoever the hell was helping this pissant rebels had deep pockets, and wanted to send a message to the Kingdom of Orleans. "I hear you Ombre, I can't wait to shine the brightest light of the Goddess upon thee." Bournonville whispered aloud, before turning to look towards his crew.

"We've trained for this type of action before. The rebels caught us unaware of their little surprise, too little too late for them. You all know what to do, have faith in your fellow crewmen, in your officers, in your sovereign, and in the Goddess. All ships, weapons free, open fire on enemy ground emplacements. Keep firing until I tell you otherwise." As his words ended, the fury of the Orelans Orbital fleet began to rain down upon Duro One, raining down upon rebel forces who'd thought that they were safe from the divine fury of Maréchal de Bournonville.

---------------------------------------------------------

They all screamed downwards to earth, burning hot and bright, moving quicker than many would consider safe. Each drop-boat carried a hundred men; trained veterans and new recruits alike, all members of Le Fantôme du Graal, the elite special forces of Orleans. Their uniforms emblazoned with two special patches the denoted who they were, on their right shoulder, a knight upon a horse holding a sword glowing with radiant holy light, while on their left, a dead knight holding a grail and lance ready for battle once more.
They all flew down in unison, a wave of glittering gold and alabaster, hurtling towards the ground as a sign of things to come. Sergent Histoire gripped his rifle tightly, praying quietly to the Goddess as his drop-boat neared the ground. An internal alarm blared, 5,000 meters. It was almost time, with one last deep breath, he clamped down his helmet, sealing himself from the environment, made sure his sword was safely secured to his person, and prepared for what was to come. All he knew, was they were tasked with taking the Embassy district, protect its people at all costs, and know that reinforcements were on the way.

1,000 meters, the alarm screamed out. In one voice, all members aboard, roared out in unison, "For the Goddess and the Grail!". All men were fanatical in their devotion to the Goddess. They would not surrender, they would not retreat, they would not bring dishonor upon Orleans, their uniform, nor their Goddess. It was win, or die, no other options. *Impact in 3... 2... 1...* A loud explosion would be heard, followed by thirty three more, as the drop-boats made contact with Duro One.

Eden(Small-scale Space NRP)

Royal Orleans Armored Rail Service - Enroute from Royal Palace to Saphir Space Port: The King and the Lady

Summary/Spark Notes - The Train Ride.

The King of Orleans and Lady Avoleth were enroute to the Saphir Space Port when the train was attacked by hired goons/thugs seeking the death of the Nyrene Terius native, Lady Avoleth. Their attack failed, but not without consequence. Five personal guards of Lady Avoleth and three Royal Orleans Army personnel were lost in the attack. All the attackers were killed in combat, the gunship carrying them exploding in a fireball after the train's main guns could be brought to bear on the target. The people of Orleans and Lady Avoleth's people can't be certain who ordered her death, but assumptions narrow down the list of foes to a small sliver of the Galaxy.

Full Story - The Train Ride.

King Reynaud felt a rough tug on the train car he sat in, the luxuriously appointed car offering anything and everything one could desire for the roughly one hour ride from the center of the capital city to the Saphir Military Space Port. The engine far ahead started billowing smoke, thick plumes of it, as the gears, rods, and components of movement began to drag forth the long line of armored cars towards its destination. The station began to slowly recede away, Reynaud enjoying the architecture of the nearly four-hundred year old building, a throw back to a simpler time. Sighing, he turned back to face his charge and current traveling companion. Lady Avoleth, well dressed and groomed as ever, sat curiously quiet, her eyes looking out at the world before her, but within, lost in thought. Clearing his throat, Reynaud spoke softly to the Nyrene Terius native. "My Lady, it appears that something is eating away at you. Do you mind speaking freely? You are my guest, my charge to protect, what can the people of Orleans do in order to help you? What might I be able to do?" He moved to sit at the edge of his seat, looking intently at Lady Avoleth.

Piercing blue eyes turned to look at the King, looking at him intently, the distant look turning away to something much closer now. Her breathing was short, akin to someone nervous about the whole situation they found themselves in. She moved one of her head tentacles behind her shoulder, her hands now clasped lightly in her lap. Her voice was soft, concise, yet held fear along its edges, rose aloud in the small din of the moving train. "Your grace, all of this... it's an honor beyond measure, to be here, to have what people you rescued from... from those monsters, but..." she trailed off, looking back out the car window, over the passing buildings and streets, the people of Orleans going about their lives.

"You still think of those that were not so fortunate as you. How could you, and those with you be so lucky, yet, how many thousands, tens of thousands of others could not." Reynaud spoke, adjusting a crease in his stately clothing. He offered Lady Avoleth a consoling smiling, before adding, "The galaxy is blind at best, but we know the cruelty that underlies in the blindness of fate. You can not blame yourself for what you had no control over... how could you, or anyone for that matter, expect such utter barbarity from those machines, demons masquerading as life, chaos hiding behind a veneer of civility. You saved those that you could, you gave them a chance to live... there is honor in that, a chivalrous action to hold dear." He sat back into his chair, taking a moment of silence to sip from his glass of coffee.

Lady Avoleth nodded in silence, turning away from King Reynaud to look out over the rolling houses now, large gardens spaced throughout the modest homes. She smiled a mournful sort of smile, taking a sip from her own glass, setting it down gently, before speaking directly to King Reynaud, her eyes looking into his. "Your Grace, we all lost a part of who we are... were, when the CCN came to our home. The dead can not even be honored properly among us, their bodies and graves no doubt desecrated by those butchers." She grew quiet, looking down at her hands, the fine white gloves she wore gripping tightly into small fists as she began to cry. Her voice was low, pained, as she spoke again, "I will burden you no more with my troubles, your Grace. I and my people are deeply grateful for what you have done for us, and what you have risked. I hope that one day, we can repay you for your kindness and honor. I will say a prayer for you to our gods, may they watch over you." She bowed her head, before quickly standing up and leaving.

King Reynaud stood up, bowing to her slightly, before bidding her goodbye. "Fare thee well, Lady Avoleth, may the Goddess watch over you and yours.". He watch her go, the flowing fabric of her dress following her as she left, her own guards quickly falling in behind her, and within seconds, they were gone from the royal car, heading back towards their own. Reynaud sighed, retaking his seat, looking down at a datapad that held his personal notes and itinerary. His own Royal Guards stood watch, ever at the ready to defend their king.

Elsewhere, in the command and control car of the armored train, a cadre of officers and enlisted monitored their screens and readouts, taking among one another, when the radar started to ping an unidentified signature roughly five miles out from the train. The air controller quickly swiveled in his seat, looking intently at the radar screen. Five miles and closing fast, the readout alerted the man, pinging ever louder. Opening up on the radio, he called out in a firm tone, "Attention, unidentified aircraft, you are in restricted air space, you have entered a no fly zone. Change your course immediately, or we will be forced to shoot you down." Nothing but static on the radio, the aircraft making a beeline for the train, its speed increasing. The air controller turned, signaling his superior over to the console. They exchanged a terse conversation, before both men turned back to the console. The blip was within three miles now, still closing, the air controller tried again, "Unidentified aircraft, this is your final warning, you will be shot down, change course now. This is restricted air space. I repeat, you are in restricted air space..." The sudden screeching ping of missile lock rang out loudly in the room, multiple screens flashing warning lights. The vessel had shown its hand, and it was hostile.

"Fire counter-measures, broadcast alert across the train...." A panicked officer called out, before he sprinted to his station, hitting the emergency alarm button grabbing his intercom to speak throughout the train, "Action stations, action stations. This is not a drill, enemy contact, port side of the train. Incoming fire. I repeat, incoming fire." The officer let go of the intercom, hurriedly returning to issue commands to the rest of the command and control staff.

------

The enemy gunship fired more missiles, coming in hot and heavy. Its auto-cannon's opened up, spraying hot lead downrange at the moving train. The pilot kept his eyes on the prize, the eighth rail car, his intel stating that this was the dignified guests car, and more than likely, their prize, that bitch Lady Avoleth, was hiding like the slimy alien she was, in it. "All right boy'ohs, hit em hard, hit em fast, and be back home for lunch with Madame Sally and her galz. There's a lot of money in this contract, and I plan on collecting that fat bounty on the alien hag." The pilot spoke aloud, over the ship net. He watch as the command and control car of the train go up in flames, billowing black smoke and crimson fire. He smiled viciously, the nasty beard moving as he laughed. "Should slow them down enough to get us to our prize." The gunship rocked violently, pitching to the left as it was raked by return fire from one of the train's forward auto-cannons.

"What the bloody hell, how the hell are they still shooting us. Those bastards said if we knocked out the command car, it'd knock out their guns... what it the blazes..." The pilot quickly pitched the gunship forward, trying to dodge more return fire. He moved to within boarding distance of the prize, the crew in the personnel bay opening fire with their breaching cannons, sparks and shards of metal flying off of the train car. His own radar pinged, letting him know enemy fighters were launched, and now on their way. "Too little, too late Frenchies. That hag will be dead, and we'll be long gone before you get here."

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Lady Avoleth lay hunkered down behind an overturned table, two of her own guards wounded, another five lay dead in the car where the armored wall had be blown out and streams of lead fired into the car. She clutched a small service pistol in her hands, fearing that the butchers had come to finish the job they'd started on Nyrene Terius. Her guards fired back in defiance, but quickly ducked behind their makeshift cover against a return salvo of automatic gunfire. "I'm going to die here... please, Gods of Nyrene, save us... save us from these defilers."

Suddenly, the personnel door for between cars opened up, at the front of the car. A dozen heavily armed Royal Orleans soldiers poured in, firing their weapons in retaliation, two of them getting cut down in the hail of bullets. Their blue uniforms, shining armor, proud and fiercesome looking men, fought without fear nor hesitation. They hammered away at the enemy and their gunship, sending round after round into the attackers. When one of the Orleansmen shouted out, "Get down!" Lady Avoleth turned in amazement as the enemy gunship exploded in a spectacular fireball, the deafening noise of fuel burning rapidly and ordinance detonating. A few of the killers tried to jump to the train before the explosion, but to no avail, as they were quickly gunned down, or fell off the train and to their deaths.

------
King Reynaud slumped back in the commanders seat, taking his eyes away from the view finder. He smiled to the other crewmen below him, who all looked as visibly shaken as he was. The air still stunk of spent gunpowder, the empty shell sitting on the deck beside him and the gunner. "Well, we're alive..." Reynaud said aloud, still surprised at what had just happened. When the first impact had rocked the train, Reynaud leapt into action, rushing forward to the main battery station of the train. Whoever attacked them knew what they were doing, or perhaps partially knew, because they grew slopping once the guns had opened fired on them. He had taken command of the gun turret, rallied the disorientated crew, and began to defiantly defend his train and people. The first round had went wide, even at this close of a range. He placed his had on the gunner's shoulder, calming him, telling him to breathe, aim again, before firing. That time, it had been on target, the heavy cannon hitting the gunship dead center, the cockpit, and then the ship itself, exploding, faltering, then crashing into the ground, tumbling end over end.

"Lets get into the station safely, we can survey the damages then. The Goddess has protected us, and in her wrath, smote our enemies. Sergeant, I turn command back over to you." King Reynaud hurriedly exiting the gun turret, making his way back to the command and control car, doing what he could to help put out the fires. He hadn't been hurt, but others were not so lucky. This was certainly an interesting start to the day, and of things to come. To himself, he thought, "Well played, demons... well played. Next time, you won't get so lucky. I vow upon the Goddess herself, I'll see the galaxy purged of your chaotic taint."

-------

The damaged train pulled into the Saphir Space Port station without any further incident. The damage was moderate, nothing that couldn't be repaired, but it showed the military of Orleans, that even on their home world, they were not safe for interlopers, from vile infiltrators who sought to spread their taint and corruption. The King and Lady Avoleth were quickly rushed to the awaiting R.O.N. Du'sang Roi, a recently refitted Courbet-Class Battleship that served as the principle flagship of the entire Royal Orleans Navy. Already, as the ship took off for space, along with the massive escort fleet, investigators from the National Gendarmerie were busy combing over the wreckage site, doing all they could to get to the bottom of the failed assassination attempt on Lady Avoleth's life.

Space stretched out around the fleet, but before them, stood the massive gate, dwarfing even the largest of ships. Fifteen minutes more, then the gate would cycle into synchronization based of its schedule to Federation Space, and from there, the awaited negotiations with the Madame Chancellor. King Reynaud sat aboard the bridge of his flagship, new uniform adorning him, as he closed his eyes, catching a few winks of sleep, before ever more was to unfold and happen.

Eden(Small-scale Space NRP)

Royal Palace, Quenelles, Throne Room of King Reynaud D'Reciet IV

King Reynaud sat upon his throne, being briefed by a slew of advisors. He sipped a cup of coffee, listening intently to the senior staff within his inner circle. Troop movements, fleet dispositions, supply lines, casualties, and on. Important things, no doubt, but the King's mind was elsewhere. It was the request by the Madame Chancellor of Federation. Among other things, such as the CCN atrocities that were now being reported to him by the refugees that were saved from the embassy on Nyrene Terius. Holding up his right hand, he stood up from the throne, and walked towards the map table in the center of the room. He studied the layout of his forces upon Duro One. Each piece representing thousands of soldiers, men sworn to the Throne and to him. He turned to his senior Maréchal de Orleans, Vincent de Bournonville, a man who had served his own father for nearly thirty years.

"Maréchal Bournonville, you know more than most, so tell me, what will it take in order for us to bring this conflict on Duro One to a close? I do not want some drug out occupation neither. We can ill afford to expend forces playing police on Duro One. So tell everyone here, what will it take to bring that dictator to heel, and to bring him before justice?" The King's voice was calm, both hands now clasped behind him, having set his coffee cup down.

"Your grace... One Million men. We underestimated the level of resistance of President Gray. Général de brigade Marcel has offered his retirement, over this debacle, though I understand you refused it, and instead had him transferred to Headquarters duties. To defeat these terrorists, we need one million more men." He stood at parade rest, the elder officer looking at his King with respect. The other gathered officers nervously looked at one another, before peering at their king.

"One million men, granted. You will lead them personally, Maréchal Bournonville. I want you to show these Duro One usurpers what happens to those who defy the laws of Orleans, and seek to personally enrich themselves on the blood of others. When can you leave for the front, Maréchal Bournonville?" The King now stood face to face with his entrusted general. The two looked at one another, eyes locked, before the elder man smiled, "I can leave now your Grace, I will take my flagship and depart within the hour."

"Ever the Arctic Fox, aren't you? Good, good. Then you have my royal decree to take command of our forces. A further thing, Maréchal Bournonville, I want you to send a relief force to help out in the Embassy District of Duro One. It appears that local militias are trying to get a hold of foreign hostages. I will not allow foreign nationals to be used as shield against our noble cause. Understood?" The elder man nodded. "Your grace, I will send word to Colonel Cordelier, that sector is under his command. He will see to the defense of the foreigners. I will be heading out now, your grace. I look forward to seeing you once all this is over."

The elder man quickly exited the throne room, the double doors closing behind him. The king sighed, before turning to face his remaining senior staff. They were all good men, some battle tested, others rising through the ranks during times of peace. They all looked to their king, to see what would happen next. The king looked towards the map, before speaking to his senior staff. "I will personally meet with the Madame Chancellor of the Federation. The conflict on Duro One is but a symptom of a larger affliction. Those abominations of the CCN are a scourge to all sentient life in the galaxy, the longer we let them go unchecked, the longer they continue to spread their corruption. They are chaos incarnate, demons parading as sentient life, when all they care for is the death and assimilation of all life not in their image." King Reynaud walked to the map table, bringing up the digital display of Nyrene Terius.

"We were able to save some three thousand natives of Nyrene Terius, embassy staff and their families. From what they have been able to tell our intelligence personnel, those metal demons are butchering their people on a genocidal level. Furthermore, the bodies of our citizens have finally made it home..." King Reynaud grew quiet, motioning a staffer to bring up the images. He let the grisly pictures hover before everyone in the throne room. He looked at the dead with great sorrow, before speaking again, "They called what they did justice... all I see are the wanton desires of blood lusting demons." The image was replaced with a map once more. The king was visibly angry, as were many others in the room.

"Ready a fleet for travel. I plan on breaking bread with the Madame Chancellor. Her message was received, and we shall show her that the people of Orleans and those of the Federation can be worthwhile allies, in the wars to come against these agents of chaos, these demons of the CCN. I leave the rest to you for the time being, ensure that the realm continues to serve the Goddess, and I will be bringing Lady Avoleth with me to the Federation, so she may firsthand relay her experiences to the wider galaxy." The king sat back down in his throne, taking up a new cup of coffee, before beckoning his advisors and staff to continue on with their tasks. He sat, watching them, listening to them, as he prepared himself to meet with the Madame Chancellor.

They spoke of regional things, a drought here, bountiful harvest there, a mining accident, the opening of a shrine to the Goddess, a territorial border dispute between two lords, the day to day events and happenings of the realm. A small thing of note, King Reynaud took notice of, was the recent interdiction of an unregistered trade vessel that border customs had inspected, which contained thousands of tons of illicit drugs. When he got back, there would need to be an edict passed to help further protect the people of Orleans from these narco-terrorist thugs.

Too Long, don't want to read

Basically, the Kingdom of Orleans is throwing more forces into the Duro One conflict, with it now being led by a trusted and battle tested commander. They are sending forces to help support the evacuation of foreign nationals on Duro One, while gearing up to send in one million more men to the front lines. Secondarily, the King of Orleans is preparing to travel to the heart of the Federation to personally meet with the Madame Chancellor, and discus diplomatic issues that concern both nations. He is bringing a Nyrene Terius native to personally speak on the matter, so what is going on can be revealed to the wider galaxy. Lastly, the Kingdom of Orleans is cracking down on illicit drugs trying to be smuggled into the Kingdom.