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    1. Cheetuhman 6 yrs ago

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A gentleman has to summon a robot to fight other robots while backed by his android maidwaifu, his butler Alfred, and occasionally the police chief. You may think it's a Batman mecha, but it's not.


Banned for using the word "waifus", implying you own more than one waifu. Remember the golden rule.

@SleepingSilence

7/10 on the Joe Satriani track. As much as I respect the guy's work, nothing can top Surfing with the Alien.

And I'm all out of bubblegum.
Unknown Region, Sublayer Unknown

"And you're sure she'll work with us, Artyom?"

"I'm positive, Batzko."

"We may need to break her in, if she refuses."

"She'll understand. We just need to pull the wool from her eyes."

Artyama awoke, vision still dazed from the strike to her head. There was barely any lighting in this new place she was brought to. Rather than steel plating and Dobrevirite-powered beams of light, there were walls of stone and Dobrevirite-lit lanterns. In front was a large campfire, where the two male voices were coming from. One was distinctively her brother. The other, however, she did not know.

One of them rose up from their place, stepping over towards her. Adrenaline quickly struck, wriggling around in her place as she tried to escape. Her wrists were tightly cuffed, as were her ankles. There was a cloth wrapped around her mouth, keeping her silenced. What are they going to do? Are they going to kill her? Even worse? The thoughts rushed to her head, still trying to break from the hard chains at her hands, to no avail. Her internal questions were answered when she was brought upright, resting against the wall. Artyom quickly rushed to the other Wojteki's side, holding her shoulders down as the one called Batzko looked her over. The goggles on his head were cracked in both lenses, and the hair on top of his head was shaven off, in comparison to the rest of his attire. Nothing but a synthetic leather jacket and puffy wool pants to keep warm. He wore a revolver at his side, resting in its worn holster. Looking off to the side, he motioned to something out of her view. A door creaked open, the sound filling the cavern, and up she was brought, being dragged along by the two Rovers.

She shut her eyes. It was all a dream. It was just a drunken stupor, and Kramov was dragging her back to her onyovka, the tiny apartment so many Wojteki lived in, bearing only a bed, a desk, a television screen, lighting, and a closet. She could not hold her alcohol as well as the other women, yes, that was her reasoning. She was just drunk.

And then she sobered up as soon as she was brought face to face with a television screen. Her hands were still cuffed, although they were now stuck behind the chair she sat in. A screen was brought down, and a projector was flipped on, starting with one scene.

There were a few heavily-armored Wojteki sitting at a table, enjoying their cups of wojka and laughing with delight. It looked normal enough to Artyama, but it shifted immediately to something distateful. It zoomed out to show dens and barrows full of cramped, suffocated Wojteki, white hides covered in blood, arms reaching out to try and dig for air. All the while, the cheerful soldiers partied above them, on the surface below ground.

"This is your General Staff. The ones who control the Dominion." Batzko spoke up, pointing a stick at the top of the diagram, then dragging it downwards to the overly minute yet detailed amounts of the dead. "These are the 'loyal, brave soldiers' who risk their lives every day, to keep the Dominion alive. And what do they get?" Artyama was suddenly pushed forward, face-to-face with the diagram. "Have you not heard of District 5? When they rebelled against the Gentafers during the Void War? How they died, choking to their last gasps, because they refused to live any longer in isolation? How they wished to see the sun and moon rise in conjunction, across the sky?"

She shut her eyes. This was all a lie. There was still a District 5, still people living there. There was no way they suffocated, in such an area. "And how many perished? When they finally went down and took their tally, it was twenty-five thousand. Men, women, children, all of them. Those they found with air masks they shot under the charge of treason. Those who committed this atrocity swore never to speak of it." Batzko suddenly stood in front of her, towering over with a glare. "I was a Kamra on 'clean-up duty' that day. The purge of District 5 is something you would not find in the archives, nor spoken of by your relatives. To go against the Gentafer is treason. To go against the Supreme Commander is treason. To be in the wrong place, at the wrong time, is treason. For that matter is why we are Rovers."

Artyama's eyes came alight with fury. Rovers. Liars. Traitors. She again tried to leave her seat, but was held down by Artyom's hands behind her. "You may think we are unreasonable. We are foolish, to try and rebel. I assure you, there are plenty like me that are wounded from the actions the General Staff and Supreme Commander have taken against their own subordinates. You do not simply go through life, without incident." Batzko went over to the projector, flipping to the next slide. Now in front of her were two faces: one of Carpulski, and one of Szachslaszi, greatly exaggerated in features to look like demons. Underneath them was a single word: "Tyrants."

"Did you know Supreme Commander Carpulski frequently ordered death sentences on Wojteki who sought to establish trade with the Vaspenians and Tari? No one was safe. The lowliest worker and the most loyal Gentafer were at risk of an execution. Those years after the War of the Fangs became known as the 'Crimson Months', with how many were killed." The presentation stick tapped against the torn-up, wretched face of Carpulski, then moving to the red-eyed, clawed mug of Szachslaszi. "This svolich is why we are here. In 2040, he ordered the purge of District 16, an upper-class area set only for Kaptensks and their families. When it was completed, he turned the entire area into his personal home. Every hallway, every piece of technology, going to waste while he lingers somewhere within. In 2050, he ordered the death of Orshak, a Pova of fifteen years, for agreeing to give fuel to a Tari merchant caravan. In 2055, he limited the amount of children to be bred per family down to two; any more would be left out on the surface to die, because he himself lost all of his children during the Void War. Now, about the purge of District 5..."

The information was too much for Artyama to handle. She shut her eyes, reminding herself again and again. It was all a dream. It was all a dream...

District 5
2040


"Kamra Batzko! Why have you not cleared this room out?!" The broad-hatted Kaptensk shouted at the goggled Kamra. The smell of smoke was heavy in the air, emanating from various onyovkas in the hallway. The latter held a flamethrower in his hands, one finger parallel to the trigger pump, while the other held the handle. The pump was connected to a snaking wire, where two Dobrevirite-powered tanks were placed within. They were guarded by the heavy steel capsule, with only a thin slit to denote whether they were active or not. In the hands of a professional, it was a deadly close-quarters weapons, capable of searing down to the bone. In the hands of the young Batzko, however, he could not use it for his life.

"T-There's a family that's still alive, Kaptensk! I-I--"

"If I must, I'll deal with them myself!" The larger Wojteki almost opened the doorway, until Batzko forced himself through, coming face to face with the family. The Kaptensk slid from around the Kamra, loading a clip of six bullets into his revolver while he spoke. "By the order of Supreme Commander Carpulski, as citizens of District 5, you are sentenced to death for treason and..." He went silent. The two adults, husband and wife, were both riddled with bullets. Possible they were already dealt with by a previous crew. The child cried, pulling at its mother's hands, repeating over and over. "Mama, mama..." A tear dragged down Carpulski's eye, only to hear a bang. He shut his eyes, the Kaptensk walking away with one order: "Do your job. Not a shred of mercy for traitors to the Dominion."

Unknown Region, Unknown Sublayer

"I left for the surface shortly afterwards. After what I had done, I sought death." Batzko was now sitting in a chair, the projector turned off, facing Artyama, who had calmed down. There were also tears in her eyes, biting into the binding at her mouth. Artyom patted her on the shoulder, trying to keep her comforted.

"I went out into the Isalkan land, trying to find some animal to maul me down. And then the Rovers found me. We all told the same stories, purges of families and former soldiers, executions out of spite rather than denying duty, deaths of the innocent than the guilty. Whenever there is a tragedy, there is comm silence. When it ends, things continue as normal. That is how life is underground, is it not?"

Artyama lowered her head, shaking it gently. Batzko stood up, returning his seat to a nearby chair as he looked around the room. "It is why you came after Artyom, is it not? A Gentafer wanted him dead for insulting his intelligence, and he fled to us." Reluctantly, she nodded once, with the former Kamra continuing. "Petty things over heavy prices. This is why we are Rovers. When we kill the General Staff and the Supreme Commander, we will restore the Dominion to its rightful place. No longer will tyrants rule over the rest of our race. We as individuals will rule over this continent, and we will restore what is right to the world."

Finally, Artyama was unlocked from her chains, tearing the cloth from her mouth and allowing her to speak. "And what are you supposed to replace the Supreme Commander and the General Staff with?"

Batzko only gave a short response. "The people."

District 16, Sublayer X

So here I am, Dobryski thought to himself. Face to face with the Supreme Commander himself, in the dreaded District 16. Ever since it was set up as the central information station, it was assumed everything would be automated. Yet, there was no sign of machines running across computers, checking and cross-checking data and locations. It was completely abandoned, except for a stream of lights leading him along the way. Just to calm his nerves, he withdrew his cigar and lit it with a shard of Dobrevirite, inhaling and exhaling.

The light seemed to go on forever, moving from corridor to corridor, until at last he was in front of an elevator. It looked to be non-functioning, until it powered on. By itself. The doors opened up, and he stepped inside, shutting tight as it slowly rolled downwards. It felt like time had stopped, as he waited for the elevator to halt. Was it even moving? It would be unsurprising if it was stuck, given how decrepit the whole place was.

Thankfully, he was patient. Minutes rolled by, and at last he was at the deepest part of the Dominion. There was darkness all over the outside of the elevator, not enough for its lights to pierce through a foot of it. But, he had to persevere. The floor markers shone, continuing to guide him through the area. If he did not know any better, it was likely he was in a cave. There were the distinct sounds of water dripping onto stone, and rocks shifting in place as spikes of Dobrevirite jutted forward from the planet's mantle. However, something snagged into his foot and tripped him over, pushing himself back onto his feet and bringing the metal up to check. An inactive computer. Old technology, with the screen built into a hefty machine full of buttons and measuring devices. Was this a technological graveyard, he wondered?

Suddenly, a light shone brightly from the other side of the vast room. He had to keep following, regardless of whatever was in his path. Safely and surely, he made it to the light, and stepped inside.

An entire room full of computer screens, with millions of small, mechanical constructions working from screen to screen, pressing buttons and scanning what was in them. From what he could see, there were a few that focused on Wojteki that were asleep, with one or two spending time with their children. Each robot worked a separate room, constantly searching for something, either contraband or dissenting material. That was what the TV was for, in his room. Much like the robots, there were millions of wires running through the whole complex structure, leading up and up into the ceiling, where it was dimly lit further upwards. Everyone in the Dominion was under surveillance, and not a single person given their privacy.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" A voice snapped Dobryski's attention to the middle of the room, where the Supreme Commander himself was seated. He was surrounded by various screens, large and small, with wires leading into the arms of his seat. "Yes, Supreme Commander." Dobryski responded, walking over to the chair. "I am here, as ordered."
The morning of January 2, 2057
District 15, Sublayer 10, Command Room


Dobryski peered into the empty, dimly-lit space. The chairs were still present from hours ago, as were all the electronics provided. All that was missing were his fellow Gentafers and, knowing them, they may come back slightly more inebriated than the regular rank-and-file. That was the privilege Gentafers were granted, not as bound to the laws and expectation of the Dominion Military, yet still retaining a balance to appear respectable. Indeed, it was uncommon to see an elder Wojteki guzzle down more wojka than the set limit (of five shots), but it was something to be ignored. They did, after all, achieve that position of some freedom through their long service.

But, time was not to be wasted. He sat down into one of the chairs in the middle of the table, patiently waiting for the screen to come alive. Was it just going to be him, face-to-face with the Supreme Commander? As he pondered away, another person stepped into the room. At first, his expectations were Bolroff, knowing how well he knew the man. Bolroff's achievements included the use of tanks with drills attached instead of treads, giving them mobility across the snow and ice. It was based off of their current mining vehicles, which were always in use by the young adults of the nation. By covering the drills with plating, adding machine guns to the front, and a hefty turret capable of blasting through heavy armor. Variations on the tanks included anti-infantry, adding a massive hexagon-ball head with four machine guns meant more for shooting down aircraft than soldiers; a long-range artillery piece, attached to the back of the tank to allow proper angling at targets far and near; and an underwater variation, which carried soldiers without fear of being sunk. They were still in the works, but they had plenty of time before another war could roll around. The Bolroff tank was, potentially, something they needed.

And what did Dobryski have to show, in return? Another satellite. It was easy enough to keep Sati in space, where it would be unaffected, while providing visual over the entire chilled region. This satellite, he promoted, would be able to fire down metal rods that would hit the planet's surface, effectively using kinetic bombardment to achieve success. The issue, however, was that it was only an idea; the satellite itself would have to be manned at all times, with a crew on board to manufacture and arm the rods. Not to mention the diplomatic issues it would cause, bearing such a dangerous weapon. It would have to be large, and defensible, but defense would not be easy to achieve. Unlike the Vaspen, and many other Cindorayi-tech nations, they did not bear strong defensive shielding, hence their reliance on trenches, forts, and the underground. Even if they did bring it up into space, how would it survive against ships?

The screen flickered on, abruptly, catching Dobryski's attention. Supreme Commander Szechslaszi was on. He immediately rose from his seat, only to be met with one phrase: "Sit down." No salute. He lowered back into the chair, keeping his hands in front of him. The aged Wojteki stared straight at the lone Gentafer, then lowered his head.

"You remember the War of the Fangs, do you not?" He started up, raising a hand to lower his cap over his eyes, awaiting Dobryski's answer.

The War of the Fangs. The conflict between the Wojteki, the Vaspenians, and the Tari. It was a matter of expansionism, for growing beyond the icy wastes of the planet's south. It had started in 2010, under Supreme Commander Crymulka, and ended six years later, with an armistice between the Dominion and the two other monarchies. Crymulka, as history had shown, aspired to expand into fresher territory through the conquest of its neighbors. Through obtaining Vaspenite and Chitanite, the Dominion would become an unstoppable force in the south. Although Wojteki strength and determination was successful in pushing through Vaspen and Tari lands, they were soon forced out due to the higher quality of weaponry both nations offered. However, counter-attacks into Wojteki land were immediately stopped, thanks to the well-fortified front offered, along with a seemingly endless supply of missiles and Dobrevirite bullets. Within six years, the Wojteki population had gone from ten-million down to five-million; recklessness, constant human-wave operations (with a lack of offensive mechanized vehicles that could properly cross the ice), and the Dominion's lagging behind their enemies, led to the defense on the homefront.

But, not a single inch was handed over to either of the monarchies. Any and all attempts to tread on Wojteki snow were met with flaming shells and massive explosions. Perhaps the biggest mistake both nations made was to attack the Wojteki during the winter-time; the ice was easy to shatter, and no amount of Vaspenite shielding or Chitanite healing could save them from the frozen depths. Vaspen casualties mounted to three-million, while the Tari lost six million of their own.

By 2016, both sides were hard-hit by the war. Crymulka had abruptly died of a heart attack, and the new Supreme Commander, Carpulski, accepted a peace deal with the Vaspenians and Tari. Carpulski, back then, was just a young Gentafer at the age of 60, shifted into the role of Supreme Commander to play diplomat. He would go on to see the start of the war between the Cindorayi and the Aldabetans, from which he would slam his foot down on war for the last time.

That was the War of the Fangs. The conflict that the Wojteki struggled to breed their numbers back, to reach some acceptable standard of technology that was on the level of their neighbors.

"Yes." Dobryski finally spoke up, reminiscing back to those times. He was just a worker during that war, thirteen when it started. His father and mother, Dobrykov and Ivanaka, participated as Kaptensks, deployed during the assault into Vaspen, watching as the steady waves of Wojteki were gunned down as they attempted to breach killzones again and again. Neither of them survived the war.

"And you know those we fought against?" The lupines and the lizards. As the stereotype went, both of them were fragments of the past; the former an old-age court stuck in time, with nobles rambling over who got the gold; while the latter was an idiotic mish-mash of classes that would only amount to billows of smoke from their corpses. Such was the common Wojteki thought; the pure among the flawed.

"Yes." Again, Dobryski repeated. He himself had little to think of them.

"And do you seek peace?"

This question sounded... off. Dobryski, and many Wojteki, were taught to hate outsiders. It was their fault the Wojteki had stagnated for so long, until that fateful year of 2010.

"Do you?" Szechslaszi asked again, expecting an immediate answer.

"I..." Dobryski started, thinking over his words. The Dominion did not have enough troops to mount another war, as the Vaspenians and Tari were five times their number. Another war would be pyrrhic in nature. "...Yes, Supreme Commander."

"Meet me in District 16." With that, Szechslaszi tuned out, leaving Dobryski alone. Did he answer correctly? Did he answer wrongly?

District 3, Sublayer 3

"Artyama, are you really going out?"

"He's out there! I can't leave him to freeze!"

There were two Wojteki arguing at the armory. Amongst the miles of ammunition, armor, and guns, there they stood. Artyama pointed a curved nail at the other, holding a breathing mask in her hand. "What would you know about having a brother, Kramov?"

No response came from the male Wojteki, as the female continued to dress into her gear. "At least let me come with you. As hot-headed a Sarsha you are, it won't do you much good to go out alone." She stopped, flashing a glare at him, then continuing with a low groan. "Either we find Artyom, or..." As he started up again, she grabbed a machine pistol from a rack, loading the drum magazine with bullets and another for reloading.

Kramov soon followed after, by the time she reached the elevator, carrying with him a sword and a revolver. Their destination was one of the mining sites, currently dormant due to reports of wildlife. Usually, the dig sites were closed down for workers' holidays. They could afford a day of rest, and as these were common, many operations would suddenly be empty one day, and be full again the next. However, many dig sites would end up ceasing mining, whether due to heavy storm conditions, difficulty in mining, or a disappointing amount of resources being extracted. Knowing the threat of the native wildlife, or even worse, the Rovers, the two Wojteki began trekking over to the dig site before the Armored Guard were assigned there. The Guard was scheduled to patrol the area by the afternoon, and with what time they had in the morning, they could get in and out without worry.

By the time they reached the dig site, no life in sight, Artyama quickly descended down into the mining site, pointing her gun around. She had to find Artyom, she just had to.

"Hurry up, there's a snowstorm about to pick up here--"

"Just give me time!" She called back to Kramov, only to find what she was looking for. Artyom, her brother, face to face. With a pistol aimed at her head.

"I'm sorry, Artyama." He spoke, slamming the butt of his gun hard enough to her head to knock her unconscious. "Oi, traitor!" Kramov moved up to Artyom, aiming his sword at the offender. But, he was too slow. A hail of bullets pierced through his armor, causing him to fall back into the ground, gasping his last breaths. Artyama's own machine pistol was used as the murder weapon, and with no time to spare, Artyom picked his sister up and threw her over his shoulder, carrying her into the entrance of the dormant mine.
January 1, 2057
The Dominion of Isalka
District 3, Sublayer 5


"To the Dominion, and to the Supreme Commander!"

The Wojteki soldiers cheered, raising a glass of wojva and downing it, before each of them grabbed a pitcher to refill their cups. The domed park area, with rugs on the floor and steel beams holding it up, was one of the many public holding grounds throughout the Dominion's underground complex that celebrated the occasion. Torches of active Dobrevirite lit the area, shining around the otherwise darkened, massive room. Tables of soldiers chatted about the upcoming prospects of promotions, deployments, and housing. No shortage of any of these. A few of the male soldiers discussed who they would settle in with, while the females kept to their own tables, talking about the same.

"To Mierzy, to Jadga, and to Bogdi. Rest their souls!"

Another collective gulp was downed and refilled. Those were just three names who were killed in action over the year, defending the numerous mining sites across the ice cap. One fell to wrestling a large wolf, while the other two were shot dead defending a group of Pova on patrol from traitorous Rovers. The animals were something to expect, thanks to their satellite in the sky, affectionately named Sati by the troops; the Rovers were more difficult, for reasons they had yet to discover. Cloaking technology? A satellite to match their own? It was still out there, but the attacks were not frequent. Merely a hindrance.

Two of the Wojteki suddenly stood up from their seats, a male and a female, and latched onto each other. As the rest of the crowd watched, they tussled to and fro, neither of them losing their balance until the female had stepped forward and lifted the male, tossing him onto the ground. A short applause filled the room, as they bowed to each other in respect. To signify this further, he lifted her arm up, designating her the victor.

All was peaceful, underneath Isalka.

District 15, Sublayer 10, Command Room

The General Staff sat in their longchairs, facing a television that had yet to turn on. The room was metallic in design, as was most of the underground, decorated with various posters, medals, and plaques highlighting previous Gentafers and Supreme Commanders. Dobryski took the time to light a cigar with a small shard of Dobrevirite, dragging his nail against it to turn it active, then drawing the flame up and then snuffing it out with a thumb. Of all the Gentafers in the room, he was the youngest, at sixty. He had been honored for his efforts in rescuing a science team from a band of Rovers, while he was a Captensk. It was just him that day, gunning down the rebels that were half his age, returning with a truck full of unconscious scientists as he patched up his own bullet wounds across his chest. A regular Wojteki would have an extended stay with injuries like that, but Dobryski was back in action a week afterwards.

Around him were fourteen other Gentafers, representing each district of the Dominion. Some chatted with their comrades, few read or smoked as he did, while waiting for the Supreme Commander. The television suddenly switched on, and the grey-furred, elderly Szachslaszi came on. As many of them knew, the leader of their nation was well past his death date, yet he continued to survive. All Wojteki stood, curling their hands into fists, and pressing them against their hearts. "Hail, Supreme Commander!" They said in unison, dropping back into their seats once he had nodded.

"As you all well know..." Szachslaszi started up, slurring his s's and elongating his l's. "I am dying. Our scientists have estimated I will pass in the next five months. For that matter..." He rose his head, one of his eyes carrying a dull, grey sheen while the other bore a faded red in his iris. "I will select my successor, soon." Slowly, his hand raised over his chest, staring blankly at the other side of his screen. "Naszvidanya, my soldiers." The television abruptly shut off, as they were halfway through repeating, "Naszvidanya." Dobryski stopped himself, unlike the rest of them. He had his opportunity. He could become the next Supreme Commander. He had competition, yes, but he needed some way to reach the top of the list.

As he stepped out of the conference room, the rest of the Gentafers following him, one of them bumped him on the shoulder. "Oi, Dobryski, you're going to join us for some drinks, yes?" Bolroff. One of his oldest friends, once part of the same district. Dobryski merely shrugged, taking a breath from his cigar and then letting it out, waving the smoke away. "You always were a man of few words." Bolroff chuckled, stepping away with the rest of the group. "Naszvidanya, Dobryski."

By the time he finished with his smoke, dropping it into a tin to hold it, he turned to face Bolroff and the gang, only to find they were gone. He hung his head low, setting off the other way towards the surface. "Naszvidanya." He replied, to no one. At least with the encroaching sunlight, and the guards on patrol being changed out, he could be left alone to watch the sea.

Coast Block 60

"Gentafer on approach, salute!"

Dobryski gave a passing greeting to the group of Pova, led by a Sarsha. Some of them looked to have been unaffected by working in the mines; the few who stood out to him had an eyepatch, an arm replaced with a metal replication, and a torn-off ear. He stopped to check over each of them, drawing nervousness from each, before he moved on. He could have sworn he heard an audible gulp from them as he walked off, the marching of boots quickly replacing the noise.

Out of the bunker, and into the trenchline. The endless trenchline, that stretched across every mile of snow. It was large enough for him to pass by the groups of patrols that went around him, as he reached another bunker, sinking into the ground. As he descended down the trench, he was greeted by two other soldiers huddling within, warming up some soup and sharing cigarettes. Out of the bunker, and into another column, which he ascended onto the snow. From here, the coast was lined with ice as far as the eye could see. Clouds loomed on the horizon, as the sun climbed up into the sky. There was nothing better to appreciate than nature itself. It gave him an escape from home, something to pass the time if he put his mind to it.

Dots of electric sound came to life within a pocket of his jacket, urging him to retrieve it and power the handheld radio on. "Dobryski." He answered, receiving a message immediately. "You are needed in the Command Room. The Supreme Commander wants to see you."


Name of Nation: The Dominion of Isalka

Nation Characteristics: An incredibly strict military hierarchy, with an isolationist streak. The oldest and strongest of the nation are given the right to rule, while the youngest live safely under their protective watch. Strict training and tutoring prevents the mind from drawing to ideas that would threaten the growth of the population. The Wojteki, its inhabitants, live in a constant state of readiness for war.

History: Throughout the existence of their species, the Wojteki have grown to be staunch defenders of their territory, culminating in developments individual to their kind. For the most part, they remained neutral, rarely trading supplies with those around them. However, the Void War brought with it a surge of interventionism by younger groups within the military, leading to them leaving the country to serve with the Cindorayi and the Aldabetuse. The General Staff, backed by older members of the populace, denounced these actions as threatening to destabilize Isalka, and banned the return of these Wojteki to their home. The leader at the time, Supreme Commander Carpulski, soon issued a Mandate denying any Wojteki to leave Isalka, or else face punishment. Carpulski then passed away, and Szechslaszi took his place as Supreme Commander of the Dominion Army.

Daily Lifespan: From the age of 10, the ripe age of an adult, the Wojteki is granted the rank of worker. There, they are pushed out onto the surface and mine the ice cap's special mineral, Dobrevirite. At the age of 20, those who survive the frigid winter lands are inducted into the Dominion Military, where they start as Pova, the first rank. As they progress through age, the Pova become the Kamra at 25, then the Sarsha at 30, and finally the Kaptensk at 40. From that age onwards, the Wojteki is allowed to become a member of the Outstanding Army, where they are allowed to live underground, create families, and serve voluntarily in helping the nation's new generations on the Dominion's frozen lands. Alternatively, they may continue to serve the Military, working up to becoming Majensk at 50, then Gentafer (General Staffer) at 60. Around the age of 80, the Wojteki passes away from natural causes.

The new Supreme Commander is directly appointed on the former's deathbed, sometimes with a last breath. To become a Supreme Commander, the Wojteki must first have been a Gentafer, and then made notable developments in evolving Isalka. For instance, Carpulski was elected due to creating the Armored Guard, Wojteki who defend the nation's resource mines and operations from animals and, currently, rebels. Szechslaski, recently, was hand-picked for continuing Carpulski's Mandate, and promising to eradicate any traitors to the Dominion. Patrols regularly go out attack the traitors, where their camps can be found, while young Wojteki are brought up believing the outside world is harsh and hates their kind. Ironically, the Supreme Commander and the General Staff are the only ones that accept ambassadors from various nations, albeit they only meet through television and not in-person.

Exactly what makes the Dominion of Isalka dangerous is the vast amount of hostile wildlife across the country. Large wolves, spiked worms, and even roving bands of mutinous Wojteki are often found here. Hungry for food, or seeking to put a dent in the Dominion's efforts, they harass the nation every day.

Nation Location: The southern ice cap.

Nation Initial Population: 5 million

Species Name: Wojteki (Wosh-tech-ee)

Species Characteristics: On first appearance, the Wojteki are 8-foot tall white-furred bipedal bears. However, their arms and legs are more shaped to be humanoid, covered by tufts of fur all over. Their arms, thighs and calves are thick and hairy in size, stemming down to large fingers and toes with straight, sharp nails. The only difference between males and females is their muscle density; males are much thicker, while females are leaner and have curved nails. The large amount of hair gives them a small amount of protection against the cold in Isalka, but does not make them completely resistant to it. For that matter, Isalka is covered with underground tunnel systems dug out by the Wojteki over the years of the planet's existence, serving for hundreds of thousands of dens dug deep below the ground. It is unknown exactly how far these tunnels go, but it can be assumed they are able to reach the mantle layer of the planet.

The average Wojteki lives only eighty years. The oldest, and current leader, is Supreme Commander Szechslaszi, at ninety years. Although he rarely appears in public, he constantly appears to his General Staff through television, constantly checking on Isalka's coasts and underground developments.

Male and female Wojteki, upon starting their lives, serve together for the first ten years as workers. Once they are 20, they are given the options of serving as soldiers or scientists. Males often become soldiers, and females often become scientists. At the age of 40, their job takes a backseat, as couples form and families grow. The cycle then continues, with every generation. Menial labor, such as mail-running or serving food, is automated.

Despite their beastly appearance, the Wojteki are often seen wearing full suits of steel-plated combat armor, with the older generations wearing more advanced sets befitting their status, adding more features rather than protection. They also wear filtration masks to breathe in the air without the chill affecting their lungs, and later improvements offer helmets with built-in respirators.

Culture: Wojteki culture is very stern-faced, with a more warm climate underground. Literature and Kriegspiel are the two most followed forms of entertainment for the Wojteki, with moderate drinking and conversation being the public hobby. The Wojteki often drink Wojva, a peppermint-tasting alcohol made from melting down the Isalkan snow through heating it with their special resource, and mixing it with science-produced generic alcohol. It is common to see two Wojteki duke it out, although it is more a friendly means of showing each others' strength; this applies not just to the males, but the females as well, and intergender matches can happen as commonly.

Religion: The term religion does not appear in the Wojteki vocabulary. The Dominion is a secular nation, although previous records have indicated they worshiped a celestial duo known as Kieva and Gorodi. Kieva represented the stars, while Gorodi represented the earth. It is unknown when they ditched this form of worship, although theories suggest their technological evolution drew them away from this faith. However, those Wojteki outside the Dominion tend to reaffirm their beliefs in the religions of those nations they stay in, as they deem the value of faith to be necessary in their new lives. This can often lead to traitor Wojteki taking on various faiths.

Side Chosen in Void War: Neutral. During the war, a few divisions of Wojteki demanded to serve, ultimately escaping from the nation and joining both sides. These actions angered the populace, and drove them to become an isolated nation, refusing to draw themselves into these quarrels. However, a small percentage of Wojteki often try to escape the Dominion, being branded traitors for attempting to explore the planet around them. Some of these Wojteki choose to stay, acting as raiders to disrupt their once-beloved community; others are found across the planet, very rarely, as mercenaries.

Sub-factions: The Rovers. Although discipline is high in Isalka, there are those who would sooner break off the Wojteki's isolationist beliefs and move out into the world. For that matter, with the Mandate of Carpulski after the Void War, any Wojteki who dared express any sense of leaving the ice cap or dissent against the General Staff were to be branded as traitors and exiled into the frozen lands. Those who survive become Rovers, bands of Wojteki with salvaged equipment making a living off of nature. A majority of the Rovers stay, forming a resistance against the General Staff, while very few are able to get off the island. It is assumed that the Rovers only make up a very small percentage of the Wojteki population, being more a nuisance than a threat.

The Rovers's leader is unknown, but the Supreme Commander and General Staff claim that outsiders, such as the Vaspen Empire to the north, fund the Rovers to enact vengeance upon the Dominion.

Technological Level: Over the years, the Wojteki were able to utilize some amount of technology to develop their underground routes. Quality elevators and stable metal hallways were a norm, backed by radios in every room. On the surface, fortified bunkers took up the coastline, missiles armed to ward away potential threats or curious travelers. Trenches also run through the land, leading to massive mining sites. Television is common, albeit more for communication and not entertainment. Rather than grow crops in the frigid lands, they produce ration squares grown from the cells of the Dominion's creatures, constantly mass-produced through scientific means. Their standards of healthcare are fairly average, with the use of stimulants and patches to heal up wounds.

In terms of weapons, the Wojteki use modified halberds, swords, semi-automatic carbines, revolvers, drum-magazine machine pistols, and double-barrel shotguns, often handed down from previous generations, as demands on weaponry are lower than that of food and other supplies. The modifications allow the use of Dobrevirite steel, which would either destroy or ruin other kinds of weaponry upon firing or striking. Their only up-to-date equipment are their missile defense systems that are planted across the land, self-calculating and backed by experienced artillery crews, able to fire both at land and space targets while being loaded in a short time. The Wojteki forego advanced projectiles in favor of conventional projectiles, which may be seen as a curse rather than a blessing, in an era of advanced weaponry.

The Wojteki's only claim to space is a scout satellite, which hovers around the planet to ensure full view over the surface of the Dominion. It has no weapons, and its only protective measure is its camouflage and signal jammer, preventing ships or other satellites from spotting it.

Special Resource: Dobrevirite steel. A dark-purple metal that is found jutting out of the landscape, Dobrevirite has been shaped by the Wojteki into artillery shells, bullets, and melee weapons. It is incredibly sharp and combustible, and is used primarily for the Wojteki's halberds and bullets. The constant growth of dormant Dobrevirite throughout the landscape leaves a neverending operation for the Wojteki to mine and refine it, allowing it to become combustible once refined. Given the Wojteki's fervent defense against invaders recently, very few have been able to collect samples of this metal during this time period. Outside of its use for war, it acts as a replacement for any sort of fire by striking it against a surface to light it.
@Mihndar I'll just take dark brown as the color for my nation.


Name of Nation: The Dominion of Isalka

Nation Characteristics: An incredibly strict military hierarchy, with an isolationist streak. The oldest and strongest of the nation are given the right to rule, while the youngest live safely under their protective watch. Strict training and tutoring prevents the mind from drawing to ideas that would threaten the growth of the population. The Wojteki, its inhabitants, live in a constant state of readiness for war.

History: Throughout the existence of their species, the Wojteki have grown to be staunch defenders of their territory, culminating in developments individual to their kind. For the most part, they remained neutral, rarely trading supplies with those around them. However, the Void War brought with it a surge of interventionism by younger groups within the military, leading to them leaving the country to serve with the Cindorayi and the Aldabetuse. The General Staff, backed by older members of the populace, denounced these actions as threatening to destabilize Isalka, and banned the return of these Wojteki to their home. The leader at the time, Supreme Commander Carpulski, soon issued a Mandate denying any Wojteki to leave Isalka, or else face punishment. Carpulski then passed away, and Szechslaszi took his place as Supreme Commander of the Dominion Army.

Daily Lifespan: From the age of 10, the ripe age of an adult, the Wojteki is granted the rank of worker. There, they are pushed out onto the surface and mine the ice cap's special mineral, Dobrevirite. At the age of 20, those who survive the frigid winter lands are inducted into the Dominion Military, where they start as Tova, the first rank. As they progress through age, the Pova become the Kamra at 25, then the Sarsha at 30, and finally the Kaptensk at 40. From that age onwards, the Wojteki is allowed to become a member of the Outstanding Army, where they are allowed to live underground, create families, and serve voluntarily in helping the nation's new generations on the Dominion's frozen lands. Alternatively, they may continue to serve the Military, working up to becoming Majensk at 50, then Gentafer (General Staffer) at 60. Around the age of 80, the Wojteki passes away from natural causes.

The new Supreme Commander is directly appointed on the former's deathbed, sometimes with a last breath. To become a Supreme Commander, the Wojteki must first have been a Gentafer, and then made notable developments in evolving Isalka. For instance, Carpulski was elected due to creating the Armored Guard, Wojteki who defend the nation's resource mines and operations from animals and, currently, rebels. Szechslaski, recently, was hand-picked for continuing Carpulski's Mandate, and promising to eradicate any traitors to the Dominion. Patrols regularly go out attack the traitors, where their camps can be found, while young Wojteki are brought up believing the outside world is harsh and hates their kind. Ironically, the Supreme Commander and the General Staff are the only ones that accept ambassadors from various nations, albeit they only meet through television and not in-person.

Exactly what makes the Dominion of Isalka dangerous is the vast amount of hostile wildlife across the country. Large wolves, spiked worms, and even roving bands of mutinous Wojteki are often found here. Hungry for food, or seeking to put a dent in the Dominion's efforts, they harass the nation every day.

Nation Location: The southern ice cap.

Nation Initial Population: 5 million

Species Name: Wojteki (Wosh-tech-ee)

Species Characteristics: On first appearance, the Wojteki are 8-foot tall white-furred bipedal bears. However, their arms and legs are more shaped to be humanoid, covered by tufts of fur all over. Their arms, thighs and calves are thick and hairy in size, stemming down to large fingers and toes with straight, sharp nails. The only difference between males and females is their muscle density; males are much thicker, while females are leaner and have curved nails. The large amount of hair gives them a small amount of protection against the cold in Isalka, but does not make them completely resistant to it. For that matter, Isalka is covered with underground tunnel systems dug out by the Wojteki over the years of the planet's existence, serving for hundreds of thousands of dens dug deep below the ground. It is unknown exactly how far these tunnels go, but it can be assumed they are able to reach the mantle layer of the planet.

The average Wojteki lives only eighty years. The oldest, and current leader, is Supreme Commander Szechslaszi, at ninety years. Although he rarely appears in public, he constantly appears to his General Staff through television, constantly checking on Isalka's coasts and underground developments.

Male and female Wojteki, upon starting their lives, serve together for the first ten years as workers. Once they are 20, they are given the options of serving as soldiers or scientists. Males often become soldiers, and females often become scientists. At the age of 40, their job takes a backseat, as couples form and families grow. The cycle then continues, with every generation. Menial labor, such as mail-running or serving food, is automated.

Despite their beastly appearance, the Wojteki are often seen wearing full suits of steel-plated combat armor, with the older generations wearing more advanced sets befitting their status, adding more features rather than protection. They also wear filtration masks to breathe in the air without the chill affecting their lungs, and later improvements offer helmets with built-in respirators.

Culture: Wojteki culture is very stern-faced, with a more warm climate underground. Literature and Kriegspiel are the two most followed forms of entertainment for the Wojteki, with moderate drinking and conversation being the public hobby. The Wojteki often drink Wojva, a peppermint-tasting alcohol made from melting down the Isalkan snow through heating it with their special resource, and mixing it with science-produced generic alcohol. It is common to see two Wojteki duke it out, although it is more a friendly means of showing each others' strength; this applies not just to the males, but the females as well, and intergender matches can happen as commonly.

Religion: The term religion does not appear in the Wojteki vocabulary. The Dominion is a secular nation, although previous records have indicated they worshiped a celestial duo known as Kieva and Gorodi. Kieva represented the stars, while Gorodi represented the earth. It is unknown when they ditched this form of worship, although theories suggest their technological evolution drew them away from this faith. However, those Wojteki outside the Dominion tend to reaffirm their beliefs in the religions of those nations they stay in, as they deem the value of faith to be necessary in their new lives. This can often lead to traitor Wojteki taking on various faiths.

Side Chosen in Void War: Neutral. During the war, a few divisions of Wojteki demanded to serve, ultimately escaping from the nation and joining both sides. These actions angered the populace, and drove them to become an isolated nation, refusing to draw themselves into these quarrels. However, a small percentage of Wojteki often try to escape the Dominion, being branded traitors for attempting to explore the planet around them. Some of these Wojteki choose to stay, acting as raiders to disrupt their once-beloved community; others are found across the planet, very rarely, as mercenaries.

Sub-factions: The Rovers. Although discipline is high in Isalka, there are those who would sooner break off the Wojteki's isolationist beliefs and move out into the world. For that matter, with the Mandate of Carpulski after the Void War, any Wojteki who dared express any sense of leaving the ice cap or dissent against the General Staff were to be branded as traitors and exiled into the frozen lands. Those who survive become Rovers, bands of Wojteki with salvaged equipment making a living off of nature. A majority of the Rovers stay, forming a resistance against the General Staff, while very few are able to get off the island. It is assumed that the Rovers only make up a very small percentage of the Wojteki population, being more a nuisance than a threat.

The Rovers's leader is unknown, but the Supreme Commander and General Staff claim that outsiders, such as the Vaspen Empire to the north, fund the Rovers to enact vengeance upon the Dominion.

Technological Level: Over the years, the Wojteki were able to utilize some amount of technology to develop their underground routes. Quality elevators and stable metal hallways were a norm, backed by radios in every room. On the surface, fortified bunkers took up the coastline, missiles armed to ward away potential threats or curious travelers. Trenches also run through the land, leading to massive mining sites. Television is common, albeit more for communication and not entertainment. Rather than grow crops in the frigid lands, they produce ration squares grown from the cells of the Dominion's creatures, constantly mass-produced through scientific means. Their standards of healthcare are fairly average, with the use of stimulants and patches to heal up wounds.

In terms of weapons, the Wojteki use modified halberds, swords, semi-automatic carbines, revolvers, drum-magazine machine pistols, and double-barrel shotguns, often handed down from previous generations, as demands on weaponry are lower than that of food and other supplies. The modifications allow the use of Dobrevirite steel, which would either destroy or ruin other kinds of weaponry upon firing or striking. Their only up-to-date equipment are their missile defense systems that are planted across the land, self-calculating and backed by experienced artillery crews, able to fire both at land and space targets while being loaded in a short time. The Wojteki forego advanced projectiles in favor of conventional projectiles, which may be seen as a curse rather than a blessing, in an era of advanced weaponry.

The Wojteki's only claim to space is a scout satellite, which hovers around the planet to ensure full view over the surface of the Dominion. It has no weapons, and its only protective measure is its camouflage and signal jammer, preventing ships or other satellites from spotting it.

Special Resource: Dobrevirite steel. A dark-purple metal that is found jutting out of the landscape, Dobrevirite has been shaped by the Wojteki into artillery shells, bullets, and melee weapons. It is incredibly sharp and combustible, and is used primarily for the Wojteki's halberds and bullets. The constant growth of dormant Dobrevirite throughout the landscape leaves a neverending operation for the Wojteki to mine and refine it, allowing it to become combustible once refined. Given the Wojteki's fervent defense against invaders recently, very few have been able to collect samples of this metal during this time period. Outside of its use for war, it acts as a replacement for any sort of fire by striking it against a surface to light it.
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