@The Jest, Sorry for being fickle, but I might join again.
Letter Bee
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Filipino RPer
STATUS: Noble Arms is now either four years old, or three years and eleven months. The third thread had lasted for more than one year. 21 days ago
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- Letter Bee 12 yrs ago
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21 days ago
Current
Noble Arms is now either four years old, or three years and eleven months. The third thread had lasted for more than one year.
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1 mo ago
New Interest Check, everybody!
2 mos ago
My Roleplay, Noble Arms: The ASEAN War, will reach its 4th year in June or July. It's been a long journey.
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2 mos ago
Despite its massive flaws, my RP, Noble Arms: The ASEAN War, is still one of the longest ongoing RPs in RPGuild - It turns 4 years old in July and the current thread itself is more than a year old.
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3 mos ago
On 4/14/2026 (on my end), my RP, Noble Arms: The ASEAN War, is now three years and ten months old, and the current thread is one year and four months.
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Most Recent Posts
Note: I will be making one final location change once the others have made their selections.
-Location Change Cancelled-
Star is Armavir; Downward Arrow (which might be hard to see due to being positioned so close to the coast) is New Trabzon, Pentagon is Thaspur.
<Snipped quote by Letter Bee>
Could you please add to the map in the way my post mentioned?
Give me some time, and can I do it on Discord as it'll be easier?
In
Precipice of War - The Big Leagues of NRP (Only generous tippers need apply)
→
8 yrs ago
Forum: Nation Roleplay
The Lady of War, Philippines' Ally, Part Three
Another gap in the moonsoon rains, another advance for her troops, this time towards Quảng Bình. The province was falling to her troops after a prefunctory fight put up by the enemy, which was fast dissolving into scattered bands of men. But Đồng Hới, the capital, was held by a would-be warlord who had re-established order at the last minute, meaning that there would have to be a siege. It was also where the planes that had destroyed Vinh had launched from; that air wing had been reduced to a few surviving vessels, but Lady Trung still felt a burning anger towards the current holders of the city even as she led several platoons of her troops towards the air base's airstrip.
It would not do to sack any city, even so, she thought before she and her troops burst out of the overgrown shrubbery, firing their Mosin-Nagants and Federov Avtomats - another Russian model of semi-automatic rifle - while being covered by Molotov Cocktail throwers. A few guards who had been unlucky were blasted instantly, their ruined bodies hitting the ground even as Lady Trung used the very planes that had destroyed her hometown as cover for her charge. Her objectives: The control tower and the air base's facilities themselves. Gritting her teeth even as resistance stiffened, Lady Trung plowed on, Mosin-Nagant in hand.
A crude rocket hit the control tower's windows and ignited the room beyond; Lady Trung suspected that there were snipers stationed in the small spire that could have given her troops a harder time, maybe even killed her. She kept on running forwards, stopping only to fire at what guards were left, before getting close enough to the air base to throw an fragmentation grenade inside. As it exploded, she could hear screaming, and the sounds of surrendering people. Part of her thought: They dare to surrender now? What cowards! Perhaps it would be best to - She stopped herself from that train of thought and instead shouted: "Come out with your hands up and surrender to the Vietnamese Restoration League!"
These orders were obeyed, but Lady Trung was mildly disappointed that not one of the soldiers, officers, and personnel who trooped out in humiliation pulled a gun out of a hidden pocket and tried to kill her; that just went to show how cowardly the enemy was, right?
------
As the day drew on, Lady Trung was advised to stay inside the airbase as the monsoon rains picked up again, and her men and women had to shield their guns with canvas covers. Said covers were another gift from Priscilla and now, Archibald, whom she had been content to hear was Priscilla's chosen successor. These covers, when combined with raincoats of thick rubberized cotton, allowed her troops to keep fighting in rough weather.
Not that she was allowed to do so by her own troops; as her successes grew, so did her value as a talismanic presence. And a talisman was better shown to the troops than sent out in battle. If not for the military logic of this development, the 34-year old would have objected to being held back.
However, she would just content herself with reading Lady Le's reports; her deputy had managed to establish communes, municipal councils, and most importantly, the mobile courts that Priscilline Conciliarism depended on for the distribution of impartial justice. This ensured that even if she died, the northern parts of Vietnam would be prosperous and well-defended for a long time.
Even so, as the rains intensified, Lady Trung felt as though something ominous was coming...
Another gap in the moonsoon rains, another advance for her troops, this time towards Quảng Bình. The province was falling to her troops after a prefunctory fight put up by the enemy, which was fast dissolving into scattered bands of men. But Đồng Hới, the capital, was held by a would-be warlord who had re-established order at the last minute, meaning that there would have to be a siege. It was also where the planes that had destroyed Vinh had launched from; that air wing had been reduced to a few surviving vessels, but Lady Trung still felt a burning anger towards the current holders of the city even as she led several platoons of her troops towards the air base's airstrip.
It would not do to sack any city, even so, she thought before she and her troops burst out of the overgrown shrubbery, firing their Mosin-Nagants and Federov Avtomats - another Russian model of semi-automatic rifle - while being covered by Molotov Cocktail throwers. A few guards who had been unlucky were blasted instantly, their ruined bodies hitting the ground even as Lady Trung used the very planes that had destroyed her hometown as cover for her charge. Her objectives: The control tower and the air base's facilities themselves. Gritting her teeth even as resistance stiffened, Lady Trung plowed on, Mosin-Nagant in hand.
A crude rocket hit the control tower's windows and ignited the room beyond; Lady Trung suspected that there were snipers stationed in the small spire that could have given her troops a harder time, maybe even killed her. She kept on running forwards, stopping only to fire at what guards were left, before getting close enough to the air base to throw an fragmentation grenade inside. As it exploded, she could hear screaming, and the sounds of surrendering people. Part of her thought: They dare to surrender now? What cowards! Perhaps it would be best to - She stopped herself from that train of thought and instead shouted: "Come out with your hands up and surrender to the Vietnamese Restoration League!"
These orders were obeyed, but Lady Trung was mildly disappointed that not one of the soldiers, officers, and personnel who trooped out in humiliation pulled a gun out of a hidden pocket and tried to kill her; that just went to show how cowardly the enemy was, right?
------
As the day drew on, Lady Trung was advised to stay inside the airbase as the monsoon rains picked up again, and her men and women had to shield their guns with canvas covers. Said covers were another gift from Priscilla and now, Archibald, whom she had been content to hear was Priscilla's chosen successor. These covers, when combined with raincoats of thick rubberized cotton, allowed her troops to keep fighting in rough weather.
Not that she was allowed to do so by her own troops; as her successes grew, so did her value as a talismanic presence. And a talisman was better shown to the troops than sent out in battle. If not for the military logic of this development, the 34-year old would have objected to being held back.
However, she would just content herself with reading Lady Le's reports; her deputy had managed to establish communes, municipal councils, and most importantly, the mobile courts that Priscilline Conciliarism depended on for the distribution of impartial justice. This ensured that even if she died, the northern parts of Vietnam would be prosperous and well-defended for a long time.
Even so, as the rains intensified, Lady Trung felt as though something ominous was coming...
@Flagg, I am keeping New Hayastan's location as-is.
In
Precipice of War - The Big Leagues of NRP (Only generous tippers need apply)
→
8 yrs ago
Forum: Nation Roleplay
The Second El Greco, Part Two
It was the next day, and Markos was overseeing the pruning of the Salinbogbog trees on both sides of the lane leading to the Cathedral of the People; Salinbogbog was a native tree species with greenish-yellow, almost white, flowers that would turn purplish later. Growing up to 15 meters, these made for a fierce rival to the cherry blossoms of Japan, cherry blossoms hard to acquire due to the hostility of that country.
Catherine, dressed in her priestly vestments, was walking nearby, and approached him with two sacristans in tow. Her expression was awed as she saw that the seedlings were already in flower, and the next words she said were, "You and the crew having a good day, Markos?"
Markos' answer was: "My wife would have loved this, had she taken the trip to Asia with me. Say, did I ever tell you how I ended up here, 10 years ago?"
Catherine, her wrinkled face turning towards his', replied, "Only that you planned to go to Rhodesia, got turned aside by storms, then...something about 'Raj Pirates' and being driven further east till you reached Manila."
Markos nodded as the wind picked up and blew some flower petals onto his white hair. "I was a church painter and icon maker, one who lived in Mystras in Greece. I had a wife and a daugther, and we lived a happy life until the Communists came." He clenched his fists in rage. "I was part of the militia defending the town against Vafiadis' minions, and for that, my wife and daugther paid the price."
Catherine touched Markos' shoulder, concerned now. "They were killed, or worse than killed."
"I hate them!" Markos blurted out. "My wife, the love of my life, my daugther, the jewel of my years. The Communists, they are hypocrites, intolerant heirarchs who use people's poverty to their advantage!"
The painter breathed hard, before finally calming down. "I survived, I escaped; I made the trip to the port of Gytheo where refugees were fleeing south to Egypt, then to Rhodesia afterwards. If God hadn't planned differently for me, I would be in Africa right now, probably without an outlet for my skills in their bland 'Protestant' Churches."
Catherine nodded understandingly. "You've gone through a lot. It is surprising that you don't hate us as well."
Markos chuckled. "You earned my love." He made a last-minute correction, "Your people, I mean. Either way, a storm forced the ship I was on to turn back, then turn east, just in time to be caught by the 'Raj Pirates'; descendants of the British Raj that decided to turn to piracy. Those people...they reminded me just what 'reactionaries' were capable of."
He then looked at Catherine. "Those people robbed us of everything we had, then took our women and young men; the first for 'breeding', the second to conscript to their cause. I barely escaped being executed by them by giving up one of my last reminders of my family; a precious ivory statuette of the Blessed Virgin. And so I was given transport, along with a few others too old to be 'useful', to Singapore."
"By then, I was tired of anything British, so I went further east, knowing full well that the Philippines was a stronghold of the far-left who took everything for me. Which was the truth, but not all the truth. So imagine my surprise when, in Manila, the first sound I heard was that of church bells!" Markos smiled at Catherine even as the wind blew more flowers into his hair. "And that was when I knew that everything would be all right."
Catherine smiled. "Well, we are happy, but there are still problems. We are at risk of invasion, after all." She then looked at the red dome of the Cathedral of the People. "Hou himself might invade us."
Markos pursed his lips. "Let him come. God's Wrath will arrive too."
It was the next day, and Markos was overseeing the pruning of the Salinbogbog trees on both sides of the lane leading to the Cathedral of the People; Salinbogbog was a native tree species with greenish-yellow, almost white, flowers that would turn purplish later. Growing up to 15 meters, these made for a fierce rival to the cherry blossoms of Japan, cherry blossoms hard to acquire due to the hostility of that country.
Catherine, dressed in her priestly vestments, was walking nearby, and approached him with two sacristans in tow. Her expression was awed as she saw that the seedlings were already in flower, and the next words she said were, "You and the crew having a good day, Markos?"
Markos' answer was: "My wife would have loved this, had she taken the trip to Asia with me. Say, did I ever tell you how I ended up here, 10 years ago?"
Catherine, her wrinkled face turning towards his', replied, "Only that you planned to go to Rhodesia, got turned aside by storms, then...something about 'Raj Pirates' and being driven further east till you reached Manila."
Markos nodded as the wind picked up and blew some flower petals onto his white hair. "I was a church painter and icon maker, one who lived in Mystras in Greece. I had a wife and a daugther, and we lived a happy life until the Communists came." He clenched his fists in rage. "I was part of the militia defending the town against Vafiadis' minions, and for that, my wife and daugther paid the price."
Catherine touched Markos' shoulder, concerned now. "They were killed, or worse than killed."
"I hate them!" Markos blurted out. "My wife, the love of my life, my daugther, the jewel of my years. The Communists, they are hypocrites, intolerant heirarchs who use people's poverty to their advantage!"
The painter breathed hard, before finally calming down. "I survived, I escaped; I made the trip to the port of Gytheo where refugees were fleeing south to Egypt, then to Rhodesia afterwards. If God hadn't planned differently for me, I would be in Africa right now, probably without an outlet for my skills in their bland 'Protestant' Churches."
Catherine nodded understandingly. "You've gone through a lot. It is surprising that you don't hate us as well."
Markos chuckled. "You earned my love." He made a last-minute correction, "Your people, I mean. Either way, a storm forced the ship I was on to turn back, then turn east, just in time to be caught by the 'Raj Pirates'; descendants of the British Raj that decided to turn to piracy. Those people...they reminded me just what 'reactionaries' were capable of."
He then looked at Catherine. "Those people robbed us of everything we had, then took our women and young men; the first for 'breeding', the second to conscript to their cause. I barely escaped being executed by them by giving up one of my last reminders of my family; a precious ivory statuette of the Blessed Virgin. And so I was given transport, along with a few others too old to be 'useful', to Singapore."
"By then, I was tired of anything British, so I went further east, knowing full well that the Philippines was a stronghold of the far-left who took everything for me. Which was the truth, but not all the truth. So imagine my surprise when, in Manila, the first sound I heard was that of church bells!" Markos smiled at Catherine even as the wind blew more flowers into his hair. "And that was when I knew that everything would be all right."
Catherine smiled. "Well, we are happy, but there are still problems. We are at risk of invasion, after all." She then looked at the red dome of the Cathedral of the People. "Hou himself might invade us."
Markos pursed his lips. "Let him come. God's Wrath will arrive too."
Gave it some more thought; decided I was not as interested as I thought I was.
I might be.
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