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The Fading Light of V'landriel (Closed for Soft Reboot)

Your gonna have to deal with they're bad grammar though.
@The Nexerus

The Fading Light of V'landriel (Closed for Soft Reboot)

An Avalian Mountain Watch soldier poses for a photo, Talnaberg, circa 1900

February 10th, 1901, Talnaberg

Sirens blared as men and women of the Mountain Watch moved into their positions. If there was any place ready for Vaurgemyr’s attack, it was the Mountain Watch of the ancient city of Talnaberg. The great guns of mountain bastions rose like ancient serpents awaken from their slumber. The old redoubts and castle fortifications had been only somewhat modernized, and the city itself at their center still had its long, black, sharply sloped walls surrounding it.

Since the times before the Imperium, the Mountain Watch had guarded the border against monster and man alike. They were created during the age of the Sky’s King, who had unified and formed Avalia proper through might and magic. Some say the old walls of the city carried ancient wards of magic to repel any would be magical creatures who assaulted it. Of course, their purpose was obvious.

To hold back the dragons.

So, as generations had done before, the men and women, Valkyrians and Humans, sharpened their blades and prepared to defend their homeland from enslaving menace.

Catarina Ossler, the fifty five year old Valkyrian, watched the preparations unfold in front of her. She was the current captain of the Talnaberg Mountain Watch Garrison and the de facto leader of the Mountain Watch. She had already sent her telegrams to the Field Marshal alerting him to the dragon’s slave armies movements. Spreading her old, brown gray wings, she suddenly took the sky, hovering above the main wall. Around her, she saw the domed defenses of the city. In older days, they covered musketeers, archers, and even Royal Cabal mages from attacks from above, while allowing them to fire. Now they held something even more destructive. Modern artillery. The city’s defense themselves were formidable in their own right, but all around her, hill forts and castles readied as well. Some had been modernized, while others…Catarina smirked, others would have battles straight out the tales of old.

“MOUNTAIN WATCH OF TALNABERG!” she bellowed through a crude megaphone. The men and women halted for a moment and stared. ”Vaurgemyr knows that they will have to break us in this city or lose the war. If we can stand up to them, all of Avalia may be free and the life of the nation may move forward into broad, sunlit mountainside. But if we fail, then the whole country, including humans, including Valkyrians, including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age made more sinister by their perversion of power. For long we have suffered the bellows of pain from below. For long we’ve heard the scraping of their chains below. They will not cast those shackles upon us! We are the Mountain Watch! We are Avalians! WE ARE FREE!” The cries and shouts from the men and women below her would have drowned out any artillery barrage. Catarina turned and faced the north, not bothered by the cold wind mountain wind that blew from it.

They were ready.
---

February 25th, 1901, somewhere in the mountains of Venris

Odert Wallin followed his Vaspen contingent into the dwarven complex. It had been a long and hard journey here, and not without some apprehension. He’d arrived by boat under a different flag, road a train into Venris. From there it had been nothing but a long hike, and Odert began to wonder of he’d packed properly. Regardless, he was here to make sure the two very different nations found common ground. Vaspen was a monarchy through and through in Avalia’s eyes, but they were also an enemy of the Imperium, and a old one at that. Thus Odert was sent as an ambassador for his country men to see if the new republic could work something out with this old monarchy.

Now before him sat the remnants of that monarchy and her advisers. Particularly of note was the old Vaspen general and several prominent political leaders. He was disappointed that the queen was not there, but nonetheless unsurprised.

“Gentlemen, I am Odert Wallin, acting ambassador of the Republic of Avalia, entrusted by my nation to ensure we both achieve our respective goals. Those goals are exactly why I am here. With the Imperium tearing itself apart between the two Emperors, our nations find themselves in strange positions. Thus far neither of us have declared any support for either Emperor and we do not seek to. We seek to deal with them as nations of their own right!” Odert paused for a moment, looking down. “It is no secret that my country has no love for the nobility. Adron has made that much obvious, but!” he shot up again, staring with strong conviction. “Vaspen knows tyranny better than anyone in this land. That is something we both share. Long did Avalia stagnate and nearly collapse under the Imperium’s puppets and long has Vaspen suffered likewise under their rule. This is no mere alliance of convenience, no, we share far to much in common then at first glance. So, when the time comes, for when we throw the Imperium out of our lands, shall we recognize this and be friends? Or let the Imperium and its second Dark Age swallow us whole? “

The Fading Light of V'landriel (Closed for Soft Reboot)

February 27th, 1901, Lundburgh

A portly man in a fine suit walked among the charcoal ruins of the port city. It had been five days since the Imperium’s navy had burned the city… two since the fires had been stopped. The sudden and horrific shelling had killed a great many in the city, destroying nearly 70% of the dockyards and related districts. Possibly worst of all, not only did Avalian citizens parish in the blaze, but Imperium refugees, Legion soldiers, and whoever else the fleet had merely left behind to meet their fate. The fine suited man frowned and kicked a piece of burnt wood from his path. This massacre had proven one thing to many, both within and outside of Avalia. Ecruir Vyalviur was a madman. A voice suddenly pulled the man from his thoughts.

“Gunner? I’m somewhat surprised to find you here.” Gunner glanced up, seeing his fellow council member, and rival, approach him. Niklos Eskil was a thin man with a sharp, sunken face that gave him a hard appearance. He was Gunner’s biggest political rival, now that all of the nobility had found themselves under the blade of Adron’s vengeance. Gunner scoffed.

Not all of them, apparently.

“Yes, well, the Tears of the Sky had a fairly large following here, so I thought I’d pay a visit and give my local branch here my condolences. We’re currently trying to clean up the harbor, get it at least serviceable, but a lot of ships burned in that fire too it seems.” Gunner said, gesturing the sorry harbor before them. Niklos gave a small nod. He gazed out over the harbor, his face somehow even harder than its normal appearance.

“We knew the consequences of our actions, certainly, but this… this is madness. I knew the Imperium cared little for its subjects, we all did, but this truly demonstrates how little. It shows that they don’t care to retake Avalia, bring her into the fold, or any of that sort. They just want to burn it to the ground.” Niklos said in a solemn tone. He turned back to face Gunner. “It at least burnt a hole in our upcoming election plans, didn’t it?”

Gunner snorted “Of course you’d be thinking of such things at a place like this. The plight of the common man surrounds you in its most dramatic form and you don’t seem to take much notice.” Gunner finished, chin held high. Niklos was suddenly in his face, merely inches away.

“Tell me Councilman Hampus, were you really out here to offer your sympathies, or merely sizing up how much union revenue the Tears lost here? Or should I ask how much that ridiculous costume of yours costs?” Niklos said a low whisper. Slowly, Gunner stepped back, taken back by the sudden move. Fury slowly replaced Gunner’s shocked expression, quickly stabbing his finger at Niklos.

“Dare say that again, and I will call you out! I care about the people under me, and when I get a letter from a Union head telling me that half my workers perished in the flames while the other half lost their homes and jobs, I act, Councilman Eskil, and I do it personally!” Gunner said angrily. He was about to continue when Niklos held up a hand.

“Good! Then you are a worthy rival. From what I had gathered on you, I thought your personality and motives were just as bad as your drinking habit and sense of taste. As it stands… I believe you. I’m here admittedly for a far more selfish reason.” Gunner’s fury suddenly abated and was replaced with confusion.

“And what is that?” Gunner asked slowly. Niklos gave a small, sad smile, and gestured to a spot not far down the street. It was a burnt pile of timber, not unlike everything else on this street.

“That, right there, was were I was born. I grew up in the fish market district of this city… It was here I saw the barbarism first hand when my Valkyrian friend was beaten to death by nobleman, right here in this street.” Niklos eyes seemed distant. “He’d ran out in front of a carriage by accident, spooking the horses and breaking a wheel spoke in the process. The duke had gotten out and beaten the poor boy. One swing after another as people merely kept their heads down and went about their business. It was here where my journey to free my friends and people from the shackles of serfdom and monarchy began.” He turned back to Gunner.

“We don’t agree with each other on a great many things. We both know that this upcoming election is going to shape Avalian politics for the rest of our history. But we are not monsters. Not like them.” Niklos held out a hand. Gunner stared for a moment, before hesitantly taking the offer. A mischievous grin spread across the large man’s round face.

“Don’t think that won’t stop me from whipping you in the elections, ya fish faced bastard.” Gunner said. Niklos gave an equally mean grin.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else, fatman”

The Fading Light of V'landriel (Closed for Soft Reboot)

I do love me some dieselpunk. (We ain't quite there yet, but just about!)

The Fading Light of V'landriel (Closed for Soft Reboot)

Feburary 11th, 1901
Albin Hescher ducked as he exited the bowels of the civilian transport ship that had docked at the bustling Lierinin harbor. He had, in his early days, visited and traded on the frontlines that was the stock market floors of this infamous trade hub. A sigh of nostalgia escaped him as he took in the sounds and smells of the land around him, and despite his sharp, bony features, he looked like a school boy who had just finished a delicious pie. This, he thought, this was a land where truly all beings were equal. Those early days of trading stock fast and furious that had allowed him to accumulate his great wealth that rivaled even the nobility was far in away something he hoped to bring to his homeland, and had given him that burning hatred of the nobility. They had only inherited their wealth, not built it. They didn’t build the factories that filled their tax purses full, he did. They didn’t push Avalian Saltpeter on the weapon producing Lierins! He did.

Another sigh escaped the rigid man, a far sadder one. Those years were long behind him. Gone are the days of getting his own hands dirty, it was time for him to step up and get some real work done. He just hoped Adron could keep the nation together long enough for his works to bear fruit.

He climbed down the gangplank and began maneuvering his way through the crowd before he saw his contact. A horned elf stood waiting for him, with two Agurians at either side. The elf smiled at Albin approached, a smile that Albin’s fierce features did not return. “Mr. Hescher, it is good to see you after these years. I would not think you would show your face in this town again after you loss our previous bet.” the horned elf said with a sly smile. Albin’s face remained unchanged.

“Had you not payed off the teller, I’d have crushed your measly excuse of a trading firm long before you could have ever seen a cent.” Albin responded, the horned elf shrugged.

“The student becomes the teacher, as is the natural order of things.” the horned elf simply said. After a tense moment, a smile of mischief began to appear on both their faces, eventually breaking into a laugh. “I’m glad to see you have not lost your sense of humor, Albin. It has been too long.”

Albin’s face now had a warm smile, or at least, as warm as his face allowed. “Indeed Nyana, it has been too long. Though as you might imagine, I have been a bit busy these past few years to visit.”

“Yes yes, come, tell me more on the ride over there. Your telegram had explained as much and -oh, where are my manners. These two are Chai-Thar and Zel-Thar. They are my loyal aids that I picked up not long after you left for your homeland once more. Please, let them carry your luggage while we talk.” Alblin briefly sized the two up before nodding. Agurians had always been known to be loyal workers if worked right.

The drive was uneventful as they went threw the endlessly busy streets of Primal. Albin explained what he had to offer and his friend and former student prepared him for what he might get. Meeting with each council member individually meant he had to know how exactly to be flexible when arranging these deals and his first meeting was with Vulwyn Traro, a man that Albin had briefly met before during his big break through on the Saltpeter deal. He was to secure additional arms for his fledgling republic and in particular the much larger guns that Avalia had not been allowed to produce on her own in the days of the Imperium vassalage. In addition to whatever munitions and even blueprints he might acquire as well for domestic production. The shorter the supply lines, the greater the capability of the nation.

As the vehicle pulled in front of the impressive central building, Nayana gave Albin a nod. “He’s expecting you in there. I hope you know what you’re doing here. From what I understand, if you don’t have anything to offer, he’ll be just as quick to throw you out as he is to let you in. Seen it a few times myself.” Albin got out and leaned into the passenger compartment with a wry smile on his face.

“I wouldn’t have an appointment with the man if I came empty handed. If anything, this meeting shows he remembers me just as much as I remember him.” With that, he closed the door and made his way into the building. It was hard to wonder if he was in the right place, as he entered the central hall. It was flanked by either side with detailed scale models of various industrial complexes, maps of rail networks under Traro’s control, and artillery pieces his companies had produced. Albin was not a man who enjoyed such trivial things, and made his way straight to the receptionist’s desk at the end of it. Time was always short for him, but thankfully the receptionist merely waved him through. Upon entering the office, Albin suddenly did think he might of had the wrong place. By contrast to the grand hall earlier, the man’s office was far simpler, with merely a desk and two chairs placed on either side. Vulwyn Traro sat behind it, staring at Albin, emotionless. Albin returned the gaze with his own trademark look of assessment.

Not a word had been spoken, yet the two men had already made their opening moves. Albin nodded before approaching, hand out. “I believe you know who I am and I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know you, Mr. Traro. You and I have no need for such delaying pleasantries, so let us waste no time here. I have the full authority granted to me by the provisional council who currently heads the Republic of Avalia and all her markets, which means I can grant special provisions and grants to foreign investors in exchange for support. This not only includes easier access to Avalian markets and goods,but also land. With much of the nobility out of the picture, their estates and lands are currently under the control of the government. While some is already accounted for, I will be able to grant property to your company and investors should you prove to be a favorable trade partner. So….. Shall we begin?” Albin said. And while his face remained stoic, he couldn’t be happier on the inside, for he relished his trade.

~~~

February 10th, 1901

Adron stared at the map before him in his war tent. The room didn’t have much in the way of furniture aside from the wooden table in the center and a small desk in the corner. It was nonetheless cluttered with maps of all kinds, covering the walls, hanging from supports, and sitting on the table before him. He had been keeping close tabs on the movements of the Imperium’s legions for some time now, hoping to catch one or two before they could properly escape. He knew that they’d be back for his country, so one less legion to deal with when that day comes is more than enough of a victory for him.

They had moved surprisingly fast on the now infamous “election day” (the name becoming popular among the people). The 2nd Imperium Legion had utterly disbanded and devolved into a rabble, as expected, and the 4th Imperium Legion---stationed in the capital--had been destroyed during the coup. This had left three remaining legions in play in his country, and here he sat surrounding one…sort of. The 3rd Imperium Legion had retreated south towards the major port city of Lundburgh where it was expected to be evacuated by the Southern Fleet. Meanwhile, the 1st and 5th legions were fleeing north, having split up to take both of the cities that sat on the Helv River. Especially as the closing days of winter came upon them, those two cities were the only viable crossing areas for a force of that size. Adron had suspected as much and had preemptively stationed the 12th Infantry Division aided by the 6th Cavalry Brigade. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to stall the legions.

The Southern Fleet had been observed sailing down the coast in a bid to rescue Imperium forces. Avalian scout aircraft had stalked them as the fleet traveled further south. What else could they do? They certainly didn’t have the navy to challenge the Southern Fleet and certainly didn’t have the coastal battery to ward them off just yet. Adron sighed as he stepped back from the table and stretched. It seemed the 3rd Legion might slip away after all. Photos taken by the scouts seemed to indicate they had every intention of leaving. Adron hadn’t made much of a move either, as he didn’t want to start shelling his own city if he didn’t have to.

A voice suddenly cut off his thoughts. It was one of the tent guards. “Sir, there is a colonel out here who wants to speak with you. He says that he might have found you a victory, Sir.” Adron raised an eyebrow. That was quite bold for a mere colonel to ask for him directly. However, seeing how he himself had yet to come up with anything better than storming the city and engaging in a protracted siege, he decided to humor this upstart.

“Very well, let him in.” Adron said.

A man in his mid thirties stepped in. He wore the same blue uniform with red trim as Adron did, but with far fewer service stripes. His hair was a dark brown and he had a burn scar that prevented a patch of it from growing. “Ah, Colonel Nilsson, I should have known it was you. Please, enlighten me, what could you possibly have?”

Colonel Nilsson gave the Field Marshal a crooked grin. “Well sir, we can’t very well kick them out of the town without shelling the poor place to pieces. I would highly object to such a bombardment, as Lundburgh has the best brothels in all the Imperium if you ask me!” The Colonel said with a laugh.

“Cut to it,” Adron said flatly. Nilsson quickly held up his hands.

“Apologies Sir, I know you don’t want to shell this place, but if we don’t do something, we are liable to let the whole damn legion get off scot-free. That will set a bad precedent for this war, so here’s a compromise.”

“A “compromise”, Colonel?” Adron asked.

“Yes Sir! You see, I’ve been talking with some of those navy fusiliers, ya know, the ones stationed on our coastal fleet? Well as it happens, Avalian destroyers are identical to Imperium ones, seeing how we weren’t allowed our own full navy, of course. So, we were talking, and she tells me that Imperium naval vessels of that size rarely have any sort of dedicated armed element on board, ya know? Sure they got a small armory for when things get hectic, but no marines or nothing. A ship that size is just too small!” As the colonel talked, Adron’s eyes widened.

“Colonel are you suggesting we board an Imperium Destroyer?” Adron asked, staring hard at the colonel in front of him. The Colonel smirked, his grin betraying the deadly seriousness of this plan.

“No sir, I’m not just suggesting that. I’m suggesting we kick the Southern Fleet in the balls to let em know what they might endure should they decide to come back. We’re going to take that destroyer and create chaos that would make the cultists in Anhreich jealous.”

February 21st, 1901

The plan was put into action. A platoon, known as “Nilsson’s Sea Raiders”, formed from the docked ships of the now defunct coastal defence force, took off from the shoreline just south of harbor city. Nature was seemingly on their side that night, as cloud cover permeated the sky with little star light or moonlight reaching the sea. Armed with shotguns, carbines, and plain old knives and pistols, the Fusiliers began to quietly search for a target. Soon, they found one. A torpedo destroyer was well on its way towards the port to aid in the evacuation. Silently the platoon flew down and landed upon the vessel.

Aboard the Empress Mobara, the captain of the proud dreadnought watched quietly as the ship sat anchored just outside the harbor of Lundburgh. For the most part, he was very pleased with how things were going. Avalian troops had yet to make any major offensive for fearing his mighty guns would stop them in their place. A part of him almost wished they would, just so he could smash them. But as it stood, no such thing had taken place yet and pulling these legions home for the war effort back in Yllendthyr proved to be a far more pressing task. As much as it pained him to see the legion’s in such a state of retreat, it was his duty to escort them home, and escort them he would.

Blinking, the captain found himself on the floor of his bridge, people yelling around him. Slowly, he attempted to get up before stumbling. The floor wasn’t quite the right angle and he felt as though he was a brand new ensign the day after shore leave. What had happened? Why were his ears ringing? It was so annoying…. The captain’s eyes widened. The ship was the wrong angle, a very, very wrong angle. The dreadnought listed heavily to the portside and one of the batteries was missing. One of the batteries was missing!? The captain quickly ran up to the window. Sure enough, a smoldering pit of hell fire was all that remained of the forward battery. A bridge member grabbed him “Sir! Sir do you hear me? We’ve been hit by a torpedo sir, the ship is going down sir!” He sounded distance, like he was yelling down a smokestack at him. What was going on? A torpedo? From what? From who? These were the questions that filled the captain’s head before fire engulfed them as the second ammunition store blew.

A cry of triumph erupted from Nilsson’s Sea Raiders as they soared into the night. Their torpedos had struck home, and dealt a blow to the Southern Fleet.

Adron stood on the shoreline, watching the glimmering lights in the distance. The platoon had returned with few casualties and two possible dreadnought kills to their name along with a heavy cruiser as the cherry on top. He allowed a smile to form on his old face as he thought. While they’d certainly not stopped the Imperium or her navy, they certainly had smacked her in the face. Avalia was only getting started, and Adron was ready for whatever was next.

~~~

February 21st, 1901
Situated in one of the few passes of the Voiru Mountains is the old city of Adrean. It was smaller, more densely packed than some of the more modern cities to the south, and sits nearly two thousand feet above sea level, giving a fair more colder environment. Legend speaks of this city being a place where the monsters from the north had been rebuffed and where the Sky’s King fought a pivotal battle. What better place for a last stand?

At least, that’s what Agata Bennick thought as she looked upon the city from her estate. She was a noble, an old woman who had left the years of her youth well behind her. Here wrinkled face seemed to be permanently set in a frown, though she had plenty to frown about. The royalist had been stomped out across the nation with Adrean remaining the defiant exception. Her butler had warned her of the coup before official word had reached the northern city and she had acted quickly, rallying what few nobles had escaped Adron’s blade and throwing up heavy barricades. While local republican militia had proven a threat, they had failed in preventing the royalists from seizing the inner city, where the grain house stores and armory sat. Now all the republicans could do is sit in the outskirts and starve.

How long until it became the opposite though? Agata pondered this, and chuckled quietly to herself. Truly, it would be a work of fate and art for things to play out so. A direct parody to what has been happening for over a decade.

Shaking her head, she let the thought go. There was no room for irony right now. This was a fight for survival, for herself and for the tradition that the bastard Field Marshal seemed so intent on burning.

It was time for action.

~~~

-ALOLVI NEWS-

THE GLOVE IS TOSSED!
Royalist in the northernmost city of Adrean have successfully taken control of the city center, threatening to starve the city out unless they meet with Adron himself! Dutchess Agata Bennick is suspected to be leading the royalists in Adrean!

A SINKING EMPIRE WITH A SINKING EMPRESS, ADRON STRIKES!

In the major port city of Lundburgh, Imperium forces attempt to evacuate to the Southern Fleet off the coast! Field Marshal Adron wouldn’t let them get away so easily, launching a daring raid with a special group of Valkyrian soldiers known as “Nilsson’s Sea Raiders”! While details of the raid are limited, we can confirm that the Imperium dreadnought “Empress Mobara” was sunk, as well as the dreadnought “ Emperor Mylvyth” and heavy cruiser “Mophodo” being severely damaged! While the Imperium forces were able to slip away, the message was clear! STAY OUT!

Meanwhile, reports are coming in that remaining Imperium forces are making a bid to retreating across the Voiru Mountains at Adrean, but republican forces have already dug in around the two river cities of Smedeholm and Verme, waiting for relief from Adron’s southern forces!

AVALIAN INDUSTRY LEADER SPOTTED IN LIERIN!

Infamous industry leader and council member Albin Hescher was spotted in the famous twin cities! Refusing to speak to on site reporters, one could only wonder why the Avalian man was in the big city! Leasure? Business? Or getting out while he still can?!

The Fading Light of V'landriel (Closed for Soft Reboot)

Feburary 4th, 1901, 02:00AM, “The King’s Garden”

The man sat on the wide stairs leading to an empty throne, watching the trickle of blood run down it. He gave a weary sigh and groaned as he rose, betraying his age. Streaks of grey ran through his neatly trimmed black hair and specks of blood covered his ornate blue uniform. It had been a long night for him, and, as he suspected, he had a long day ahead of him. To his left a servant’s door opened, revealing a bald man with dark skin. He wore a similar uniform of the older gentleman, yet with only two red service stripes and far less decorated.

“Well Gotham, are we in the clear?” the older man spoke, with a notable tone of exhaustion rather than fear. Gotham nodded, yet grimaced.

“Yes, we were able to catch them mostly unawaress... One woke up and had retaliated. . . we loss two before we could silence the sorcerer. I’m sorry Field Marshal….”

Field Marshal Adron shook his head. Nine years. Nine years of careful planning to destroy the monarchy overnight. Nine years suddenly rushed into action when that damn fool of a prince up and died, dragging this whole damn Imperium into chaos. Now those damn twins are feuding, forcing him to rush is final plans ahead of schedule. Now here he was, feeling guilting for the two that had died on account of said rush. “Alright. Well give the order. Round em up. Before the sun rises we will have those bastards in chains. “

Gotham nodded, “And what of the king?” .

“I’ll deal with him.” The Field Marshal said, storming off clutching his sabre. The halls of the King’s Garden were as much of a labyrinth as one could expect of such an old and excessively lavish building. A labyrinth that Adron had used to his advantage when he had sprung his coup. He found himself standing before two great doors that lead to the palace church with two soldiers fiddling with the lock. One took notice of the Field Marshal and nodded to him, knowing Adron would rather him continue his work than interrupt it for a more formal greeting.

“Almost there sir, these locks aren’t so much as challenging as they are tedious with the size of their tumblers being so huge.” he said just as the door made a loud click. “There we go, after you, sir.” the soldier said, as he and his companion heaved the doors open.

Inside was the king and his queen, kneeling near the altar. A priest whispered in his ear when he suddenly looked up and saw the Field Marshal strutting towards them. The king whirled around, his face covered in smudged make-up, his hair tangled. “You bastard!” cried the king as he began to march up towards Adron. The priest called after him to stop, but the king followed no such order, awkwardly clutching something behind his back.

“Holfgar, I have come arrest you for treason.” Adron yelled, eyeing the hidden hand as the king stormed up to him.

“Treason?! TREASON?! Die traitor!” The king screamed, raising a ancient looking pistol. The hammer clicked when the trigger was pulled. For a moment, there was silence.

*click*

Still, nothing. Adron sighed, suddnely rushing forward, yanking the pistol from the king’s hand and smacking Holfgar’s face with the butt of the weapon. The king collapsed to the ground with a cry, blood running down the side of his head. Through all of this, his queen merely stayed at the altar, quietly praying. “You… y-you can’t do this! I’m the king! We trusted you! My father trusted you!” The king sheepishly said, staring up at Adron from the floor. Adron studied the pistol for a moment, then looked at the king. A pang of pity went through him. The man looked no more than a young boy than a king, despite being nearly twenty four. In fact, it seemed like only yesterday he was bouncing the young prince on his knee.

His face curled into anger.

It also felt as though only yesterday he had received his wife’s head in a wooden box, that only yesterday had King Holfgar the VIII merely ignored this disgusting abuse of power. All the pity disappeared as he stared and said. “The age of kings is dead, Holfgar, and I have killed it.” With that, he motioned to his soldiers to take them into custody.

Feburary 4th, 1901, 09:00AM

Adron sat in the former king’s grand office, eyes drooping a little. He stared at the large wooden doors leading to the office, waiting for his co-conspirators to arrive. By now, the major majority of the nobility had been rounded up by the Army, being placed in the Royal Prison and his messengers had already spread the word of the upcoming executions. The long night weighed on him more as the minutes crept by. Much of the Royal Guard had been simultaneously killed while the Royal Cabal had been gutted in their sleep. Well… not all of them had been. He had lost two already, and he knew he’d need every single soldier if he wanted to secure his nation’s bid for independence and prosperity.

At that moment, the doors flung open and walked the now most powerful men and women of the nation, those who had been the biggest players in all of this. First and foremost was the head of the Royal Research Division, Alicia Karlsson. She had felt the sting of the nobility long before she had begun her work under the king. With the new king had brought a far smaller budget, and a burning anger in her heart. Following her in was a portly man who wore a clean suit with a red tear drop pin on his chest. Gunner Hampus was the leader of the largest labor union in the nation, and knew all too well what the nobility had planned for him and his Tears of the Sky labor union. Behind him came a older man with sharp features and piercing blue eyes. He wore a black suit with a red undershirt. Albin Hescher was an industrialist, particularly in arms manufactory and steel works. He had a sharp wit about him that could almost intimidate anyone who dare challenge it. Finally came a man seemed unassuming with his round spectacles and ordinary dress, but Niklos Eskil was the leader of the growing Republican faction who sought to craft Avalia into a new state.

Adron stood, gesturing to his co-conspirators. Before he could speak, Gunner spoke up.

“So it is done then? The Royal Cabal is gone? The Nobility, in chains??” he asked, the nervous tone betraying his feelings. Adron sighed, and returned to his seat behind the grand oak desk.

“Yes, the 10th Brigade has done its job. All the major players of the nobility, their families, their staff, and even children are currently sitting in prison. So far, no Royalists have rallied yet, but my men have their posts.” Adron could feel the air of relief spread through the room. “Their heads will be in baskets by the days end.” At this, a few hardened their gaze.

Alicia’s eyebrows raised, her eyes widening. “You intend to simply execute them all? Today? I knew we aimed to stop them… but this is going to far! We might find all of our heads in baskets just because of your personal vendetta!” she exclaimed.

“It’s not personal,” Adron snapped. But he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone. They all knew about his wife. All the Imperium knew. That didn’t stop him from denying it. “They would have destroyed Avalia as we know it. We would have been slaves in all but name. The people are starving, the nation suffers under Holfgar and would continue suffering more. That is why we send Holfgar and the nobility to the guillotine.”

“Are you going to say anything? To the growing crowd outside?” Niklos Eskil said, speaking up from his seat. Adron thought on this for a moment before shaking his head.

“I’ll say nothing today. Besides, I’m not stepping in to lead this country, you four are. I’m here to protect the country and keep peace while you create a government with the interests of all in mind.” Adron said.

“It would be wise to say something” Niklos replied, “To keep the peace.”

Adron took them all in with his gaze, glaring. "The people want blood right now, not words. They've wanted it for years. I've felt it. You've felt it. That's why we came together to pull Holfgar from his throne. I'm going to give them blood. A lot of it. So much it will sicken them, chock them. Then my soldiers will funnel them toward the Oslov District, where they can loot the nobility's houses and rape their daughters and kill their younger sons. I intend to let them choke on their madness. In two days' time I will put down the rioters with one hand and give food and clothing to the poor with the other, and I will restore order"

The four council members stared back silently before looking away. Gunner huffed and gave a grim smile. “You’re a dangerous man, Adron, you speak as if you can control a mob.” he said.

"Mobs can't be controlled." Adron said. "But they can be unleashed. I'm willing to accept the consequences. If you must object, then do so now, but I tell you: These people need blood."

After a few more moments of silence, Adron waved his hand. “You have matters to discuss, get on with it.”

An hour passed with the council members discussing matters of the state. Governors needed appointment while officials needed to be named. Adron nearly fell asleep at his desk before a soldier interrupted the meeting. “It’s time, sir, the guillotines has been assembled and the crowd is waiting. Adron nodded and motioned to the council to follow him to the balcony. When he stepped onto the balcony, he was nearly knocked back by what he saw. The King’s Garden took up nearly four square city blocks with a massive plaza in front of the palace, yet it seemed every single soul in the capital had come to see the execution, filling the plaza and spilling out into the distance. Adron began to sweat briefly, doubting what he said earlier, but soon got ahold of himself. The time had come, and he was committed without a doubt. He looked over to the soldier posted on the soldier next to him and nodded. The soldier raised a red flag. An iron gate creaked loudly open across the plaza. A path had been cleared by soldiers posted along the cobblestone ground, barely keeping the crowd at bay. A line, stretching all the way to to the Royal Prison began to move. Nobles in various attire, chained together by ankle and wrist, were urged slowly along, and at its head walked the king and the queen.

Seeing the long line, the surging anger of the crowd, and five guillotines below him, Adron sighed, but for the first time, not out of weariness, but out of a sense of content. “Finally…” Adron thought, “I’ve done it.”

-BREAKING NEWS-

HOLFGAR DEAD!!! THE REPUBLIC STANDS TALL!!!

Today Field Marshal Adron overthrew the monarchy of Avalia, charging the King and the nobility with treason, neglect of the nation, and abandonment of its people, sentencing them to death by beheading! Despite an attempted attack on the procession, the gathered crowd destroyed the King’s Guard before they could even get close! Word is spreading of mobs wreaking havoc across several districts. The Field Marshal vows that order shall be restored in the capital. Across the nation, the people celebrate this new hero of Avalia as the army ejects what little overseeing agencies of the Imperium have in their once loyal vassal. Now the Republic braces for new enemies and a new government!

The Fading Light of V'landriel (Closed for Soft Reboot)

Nation Name:
The Republic of Avalia

Map of the Republic

Type of Government:
A Transitional Authoritarian Democracy

Head(s) of Government:
-King Harold Holfgar the VIII, the former ruling monarch, deceased
-Helna Govics, former head of the Royal Cabal, deceased
-Field Marshal Adron, Leader of the General Staff and commander of Avalian Armed Forces
- Alicia Karlsson, council member, Head of R&D
- Gunner Hampus, council member, Head of the Tears of the Sky Labor Union
- Albin Hescher, council member, famous Industrialist
- Niklos Eskil, council member, head of the "Republican Movement"

Economy/Technology:
Thanks to the progressive policies set forth by the preceding monarch, the Avalian economy has done well to modernize and industrialize to a point of being on par with most modern powers. This is also thanks to in part the large systems of navigable rivers that snake through the nation, generating a far higher ceiling for potential capital wealth. In fact, with trade and transport relatively easy, the resulting canals and railways only furthered this rise in both credit and capital. With a growing middle class and a easing of acquiring credit, this has led to a boom in entrepreneurship and innovation. Despite this industrialization, and with it, urbanization, some of the main exports come from agriculture, being namely cotton and wheat. Salt and Coal also remain high on the export list, thanks to the very rich low lying mountains that make up part of the northern border. The largest imports happened to be sugar, coffee, silver, and spices.

The lack of a proper merchant marine and the domestic problems at home as created a highly centralized economy within the nation. Large unions control vast swaths of labor, unions who not a decade before were entirely illegal. Various ideas of Social Liberalism and Market Liberalism are practiced within by said organizations as the government itself has yet to take any true hard stance on the matter. Regardless, the Republic most certainly practices and endorses capitalism and only seeks to modify the system, not outright replace it with an entirely different system. This has lead to an explosion of a middle class and with it, a internal consumer market, creating a healthy tax base that has been more than useful in stitching the country back together.

The nation’s military and civilian benefit from cutting edge communication technology which when combined with their complex railroad, road, and more recently canal efforts have lead to a nation where a message from one end of the nation could be spread to all the far corners in merely hours or days.

Among many of the innovations, none of have causes as much of a stir than in heavier than air flight. For the past few decades, the modernized army had utilized lighter than air balloons as both scouts and staging points for their now famous Winged Fusiliers, but much to the dismay of Valkyrians everywhere, their kingdom was not the first. Vaspen was able to get some aircraft flying before the Avalians could, and thus the previous king ordered full research to grow their own homemade aircraft. For now, the AR-3 serves as the latest in Avalian design, with much talk surrounding other related fields as well. However to this day, a sort of jealousy and rivalry is felt towards the Vaspen aircraft designers.

Primary Species:
Humans

Valkyrians, Valkyria
The natives of the lands the Autumn Republic are known as Valkyria. In terms of their physiology, they are fairly similar to humans, but with very notable differences. First and foremost is their bird like features.With their large wings and feathered tails sprouting from their lower backs, giving them the natural ability to fly. For a Valkyria, flying is nearly no different from walking or running, making them incredibly mobile creatures. For the rest of their physiology, Valkyrians stand at a modest 5’2 to 5’3 with rare exceptions, normally possessing hair/feather colors of black, white, and brown. Valkyrians also seem to naturally perform better at high, thin air altitudes, where normally humans would have difficulty breathing, making them right at home in the sky.

Population:
51 Million

Culture:
For much of Avalia’s history, a strong divide between the nobility and the peasantry has existed. Between the ethnic origins of the Valkyrians and Humans to the infamous book “The Peoples of Law”, a strong sense of servitude and noble birthright had been enforced to appease the mighty Imperium that the held vassalage to. This all changed, however, with the rise of King Holfgar the VII, otherwise known as the “Iron King”. His radical changes in both power and economic structure has lead to a growing sense of self determination and hatred for the nobility. Even as the merchants coffers grew, they were still held by tradition to be subservient to even the poorest of the noble families, as was their noble blood. This too, seems to be changing, quietly, in the dark.

Religious and Other Beliefs:
While many in this growing age of rationalism prefer to merely believe in the natural order of the world, some still speak of the ancient prophecies and traditions that swirl around the original peoples and the mysterious “King of the Skies”. Some call him a god, others merely think he was a powerful ruler of the time, but no one has yet known for sure what to make of it. Aside from that, various major religions are practice without much fuss for now.

Location/Territories:
Dark Green

Climate:
Fair temperate, experiencing warm summers and cold winters.

Military:

"Join Today! For Honor and Duty"

The entire military as a whole is headed by the “General Staff” with the Field Marshal at its head. From there it splits into the Avalian Army and Avalian Navy.

Within the Avalian Army there are two Corps, The Infantry Corps holding much of the artillery, infantry, and Winged Fusilier battalions and the Cavalry Corps which held Dragoons, light, and heavy cavalry battalions. These Corps hold within them various divisions and brigades. Of course, the most famous of which are the “Winged Fusiliers”. These brigades were formed during the Iron Kings reformations of the army alongside Field Marshal Adron. They’re purely made up of Valkyrians using their incredible mobility to their advantage. They wield often carbines, grenades, and pistols. They even use a unique pistol that was converted to launch grenades as pictured. These brigades are of higher quality than most, as Valkyrians also serve in the regular infantry battalions alongside human comrades.

Valkyrian Regulars

Winged Fusilier Equipment

In addition, the Army Corps has formed an experimental wing made up of scout aircraft and small lighter than air vessels for reconnaissance and harassment. This field is showing promise to the General Staff, so it is likely to be highly subjected to change.

The AR-3, the latest and greatest Avalia has to offer

The Avalian Navy is a luxury that the Kingdom has had a hard time affording. With potential land base enemies posing more of a threat, the naval arm acts more as a trade interdiction and coastal defense force, made of cruisers, destroyers, and even a few submarines. Some of the larger ships also host a platoon or two of Winged Fusiliers for commerce raiding and scouting.

Magic Prevalence/Usage:
Magic was outright banned from the masses centuries ago and has remained so ever since. Only the Royal Cabal of Sorcerers are allowed to practice. Every year “Dousers” go through the cities and farms to find those who contain large magic potential, and then are whisked away to become incredibly powerful sorcerers who serve the nobility, in particular, the king. Thus, while powerful and skillful users exist, they are very few in number, and solely serve the king. When they were outright slaughtered, magic within the nation died with them. Perhaps with the vacuum and changing times, it may return.

History/ Background Info:

Where All Things Must Begin
“Welcome the people of the sky, and they shall serve well.”
-A common phrase found on artifacts of the region.

Much of the early history of the native Valkyrians to this land has been lost to time. What remains is mostly speculation, as recorded history of the region only begins after migratory human tribes began to settle the region, and consequently interact with them. Full integration was suspected to have occurred during the raider invasions of around 400 BCE. These invasions are to have supposedly created a deal among the two races, in which the more fortified human communities allowed shelter and safety so long as the peoples of the sky served them loyally . Many radicals point to these events as evidence for human superiority, but with recent trends and archeological digs, the evidence seems to suggest a far more symbiotic relationship than previously thought. Much is being rediscovered, as it was destroyed when the later kingdom was vassalized by the Imperium.

The Rise of a Kingdom
“Those of noble blood, of noble mind, and of noble heart are the true heirs of this world!”
-King Aaden Holfgar’s coronation speech.

The Kingdom of Avalia was created when a man only remembered as “The Sky’s King” had binded the small fiefdoms surrounding his land under his rule through marriage, blood, and war around 200 BCE. Though this kingdom would not last too long. Around 1700, the Yllendyr Imperium had begun its expansion. The noble families and King Adalwolf the Wise were given an ultimatum by the Imperium, to either become a loyal vassal or be completely folded into the Imperium itself at the end of a gun.

King Adalwolf the Wise agreed hastily, fearing the Sky’s King would “return” should their homeland be laid to waste. In an attempt to appease the Yllendyr Imperium, to prove the completely loyalty, and gain favor in the higher court, the noble families went about destroying Avalian, and more often than not, Valkyrian symbols of culture and pride. This drastic move, while upsetting to many of the peasant Valkyrians and Humans who lived under this rule, seemed to have worked perfectly, for the Kingdom of Avalia was able to retain its name and relative indepence so long as it served as a loyal vassal and never operate on its own outside of the Imperium. The Avalian Accords, as this became later formalized as, solidified this agreement and thus began the longer chapter of the Kingdom’s history. A vassal kingdom.

Centuries of being a part of this Imperium lead to a growing gap and disconnect from the peasantry and the nobility, particularly the Valkyrians, as the various families competed to gain favor with the high courts of the Royal Family. The Valkyrians and human peasantry began to become further agitated, and in response to the growing unrest, King Enar the III requested aid from the high courts of the Yllendyr Imperium. In response, a cabal of powerful sorcerers arrived, swearing loyalty to the crown and nobility. After a demonstration of their powerful magic, the masses became quite once more.

This was further emphasized when in the early 1700s, a book was published titled “The Peoples of Law” detailing the necessity of the nobility. The very survival of the kingdom, the peasants, and the Valkyrians depended on the continued leadership of their King and his rulers, less the great and powerful forces and evils of the world, raiding from the sea and invading from the land, would destroy us all.

The book became widespread and soon was taught to many dukes and duchesses, as well as preached to the common folk of the land. A mentality soon set in among many, that the nobility and their blood were of a special breed, a higher quality crop, then that of other lesser peoples. From noble to peasant, it was all sincerely believed for hundreds of years that this held sway. Having good harvests and generally staying out the major wars the Imperium waged seem to justify, validate this belief. However, as the century began to turn, so to did Avalia’s history, and culture.

A Man of Iron
“One man always makes a difference. Sometimes it’s a small one. Other times, he tips a war.”
-King Harold Holfgar the VII to his advisors upon promoting Field Marshal Adron

The Kingdom of Avalia had more or less stagnated under Imperium vassalage. Series of unimpressive kings and queens had lead Avalia to the edge of outright decline in the 18th century, but soon one of the most ambitious men of Avalia’s history would take power. King Harold Holfgar the VII was crowned on May 3rd, 1820 at the age of twenty five years. This was a man with an insatiable appetite for power, and was the first of many to begin turning the nation towards total independence. For the first time, instead of seeking favor from the courts of Imperium to achieve power, he sought to distance himself from it, to make it clear he was the one in charge, not the high court. Of course he was not public with this goal or idea, but began to make subtle changes to how the kingdom interacted with the Imperium.

First and foremost was the banning of the once treasured book “The Peoples of Law”. While it was seen significant, it was already falling out of favor with recent discoveries in the fields of science and biology, and merely served to encourage the nobility to seek favor with Imperium rather than the king himself. Secondly, in private, he ensured the total loyalty of the royal cabal of sorcerers to further secure his personal protection. Using them, he began to strong arm noble families into attending conferences, balls, and festivals hosted in the capital itself more often, all the while displaying his vast wealth to show who really ran the kingdom. Any who showed a hint of disloyalty was imprisoned while any who proved their loyalty gained favors and reward. Very soon he had much of the nobility behind himself.

Once he had his house in order, so to speak, he began to work upon the nation itself. A century of near total stagnation had originally left the Kingdom of Avalia behind in many fields, thus he sought to change that. He invited merchants and artisans onto his council and together they began to re-industrialize the kingdom. Factories went up, mines were dug, and rail laid. A complete rework of the tax system fostered a great deal of easily acquired credit that, after the “adjusting” of a few laws, made it so those of lower class could acquire far larger loans than originally allowed.

Soon private ventures were establish and a growing middle class began to form. While originally the noble families protested such moves, they soon grew quiet as their own coffers grew thanks to the booming economy and industry. King Holfgar even established an official “Royal Research Division” and injected his own funds into the University of Avalia to foster a more common form of education. These particular actions and his strong control over the nobility earned him his title “The Iron King”. While he never formally accepted this name, he certainly didn’t stop people from calling him such.

With his economy pointed firmly in the right direction and modernizing, he turned his gaze towards the military itself. Previous kings had done little in the way of modernizing, but had at least created a professional standing army years ago. In this army, only the nobility could rise high in the ranks. It was unheard of, and almost illegal for a commoner to even become an officer, let alone a captain. Thus, it was a place were many of the noble families simpled dumped their bastards, sons, and daughters who were not being groomed to take over the house. As a result, the commissioned based system of the Avalian military had also lead to further stagnation.

The Iron King sought to change this immediately, but he needed an example. An infallible man who demonstrated, no, commanded authority, regardless of his birth. That man was Robert Adron. Adron had entered the military at the very bottom, and through courageous valor in the new world, cunning, and quiet a few duels of honor, had risen through the ranks as high as captain. That seemed to have been as high as he could go, as a noble family conspired to prevent him from climbing any further as revenge for shooting their son’s ear off in a duel. After reading through the seemingly endless pile of recommendations, commendations from both peers and officers alike, the Iron King stepped in personally and resolved the matter. Acting as a sort of not-patreon-yet-totally-a-patreon, Adron was able to rise higher and higher until becoming Field Marsha himself in 1880. With this promotion, Adron went about further modernizing the military, completely banning the noble commission system, reforming conscription laws, and modernizing both the military tactics and logistical systems.

It seemed that the Iron King had found his strong man general, and was just about to finally begin plotting his endgame. . .

Where All Things Must End

On September 8th, 1888, King Holfgar the VII died due to a sudden heart failure. His one and only heir, now King Holfgar the VIII, was more interested in his women than in his country. The royal court practically seized power and began to undo much of the Iron King’s work. Many loudly protested, and none louder than Adron and his wife. They both accused, quiet openly, that the nobility would rather see Avalia outright absorbed into the Imperium than care for its citizens. The nobility, at the height of their power, thought to teach Adron like a attack dog why he was to obey the hand that fed him, not bite it.

On a warm, spring day in 1891, the nobility in quick succession with both the royal cabal and King’s Guard arrested, tried, and beheaded Adron’s wife while he was away inspecting a military post. He was mailed his wife’s head in a box. From then on, it seemed the old attack dog had learned its lesson with Adron quieting down.

Now, after 10 years of meticulous plotting and planning, Adron shall have his revenge.

Dulce et Decorum Est - A WWI Inspired NRP (dead for now)

"Work in Progress"

Name of Nation:
The Autumn Republic

Government:
A Transitional Authoritarian Democracy

Species:
Valkyrians, Valkyria
The natives of the lands the Autumn Republic are known as Valkyria. In terms of their physiology, they are fairly similar to humans, but with very notable differences. First and foremost is their bird like features.With their large wings and feathered tails sprouting from their lower backs, giving them the natural ability to fly. For a Valkyria, flying is nearly no different from flying or running, making them incredibly mobile creatures. For the rest of their physiology, Valkyrians stand normally at a modest 5’2 to 5’3 with rare exceptions, normally possessing hair/feather colors of black, white, and brown. Valkyrians also seem to naturally perform better at high, thin air altitudes, where normally humans would have difficulty breathing, making them right at home in the sky.

Culture:
The people of the republic are faced with the hard questions that come after such a radical shift in society. What should be destroyed with the rest of the nobility and what should be left behind? This question has yet to be completely answered, but things are “working out” relatively

History:
“So it is done?”

“Yes…”

“Do you realize just what exactly you have done?! The ramifications of this?!”

“Of course, and I have already felt the consequences. The Age of Kings is dead, and I have killed it.”
This story, as with many things of this time, has its roots in the corpse of a collapsing empire. Robert Adron, a human common born, was a man who defied fate in his homeland. Joining the army of the Kingdom of Avalia in 1855 at the very bottom, he became the first common born to ever achieve the rank of officer in the later months of 1868. Lord Harold Holfgar the VII took note of the rising star in his military. The Iron King, as he was called, was a pragmatic. He always sought to secure and increase power, no matter the means, and had no tightly clutched ideals of tradition. Seeing the writing on the wall, he knew he needed capable generals and staff to lead his armies when the time came, and Adron fitted the bill.

However, Adron did not know of nor benefit from the support from the King himself until the civil war had broken out. When the central authority of the empire collapsed, the Iron King declared the Kingdom of Avalia no longer a subservient vassal to the empire, and promptly plunged his nation into the thick of it. Through cunning, bravery, and great amount of risk, Adron found himself climbing the ranks through silent benefactor. Despite this, by the time he was a Captain, he had already dueled at least a hundred nobles who sought to smash this commoner upstart. By the year 1870, he had achieved the rank of General and had a seat on the chiefs of staff of the old Field Marshal himself. It was only at this point did the Iron King pronounce his public support for Adron, and after the Field Marshal succumbed to his age in the latter months of the civil war, Adron found himself leading the Army itself. He made a number of reformations, such as the creation of the Winged Fusiliers, the abolishment of commissions, and a professional army based on merit and achievement, rather than social rank and wealth. The nobility both feared and hated Field Marshal Adron, but couldn’t deny that his actions had essentially secured their own interests in the kingdom becoming an independent state at the close of the civil war. The Iron King continued to put his new relm on the path of modernization, investing heavily in the infrastructure of the country, allowing the growth of a middle class, and even allowing the first ever “Worker’s Union” to take shape (after repeatedly having its leaders arrested in the years prior). For Adron though, this was a time of consolidation and peace. He continued to be hounded by jealous nobles, but it had merely become a minor nuisance on the prefory and he continued his work modernizing his military, taking advantage of the unique abilities and skills the Valkyrians could provide for his army. Now that they were no longer relegated to second class peoples, prominent Valkyrians had climbed the ranks of the military, becoming members of Adron’s personal staff even. With this, they demonstrated to him what they believed the future of modern warfare was to be. Not that of static lines and sieges, but of mobility and most importantly, air power.

Between the fascination and support from the Iron King and the level headed, practical thinking of the Field Marshal, the Avalian military became less of an Army with an air wing, but an Airforce with an Army. Research into lighter than air flight exploded, and soon a complete change in transportation and culture swept the nation.

However, not but 20 years after the Kingdom of Avalia had gained its independence, the Iron King, despite all his wisdom, died leaving an incompetent prince to take the throne. King Harold Holfgar the VIII was crowned on a warm spring day of 1891 at the age of twenty four years. Despite being of age to rule, his consistent lack of interest in actually running the nation instead of bedding every fair lady he came across lead to the nobility surrounding him to take charge. They sought to undo much of the changes that had come, to tear down the reformations the Iron King had set up and enforced through might and fear. The royal cabal, so wrapped up in their own internal squabbles, merely kept away, only there to ensure the new king was healthy. Adron, while angered by this, played nice with the nobility for awhile….

On a cold, January day in 1900, Adron’s wife was found guilty of treason and disrespect towards the crown and nobility. Her head was promptly delivered to Adron in a box.

The nobility, in their growing arrogance, decided to strike at Adron himself. His wife, a loud and proud Valkyrian woman, had smacked a duke in the face while on business at the palace. This duke had attempted to non so subtly remind her that Valkyrians were not allowed on palace grounds. She was immediately arrested by the loyal King’s Guard, was sentenced to death by the next day. All of this occured while Adron was overseeing winter training maneuvers of some of the army.

This provocative action had been deliberate, and he knew it. It was a message from the nobility of Avalia that they were not to be interfered with any longer.

Thus, a great man was given a great motivation.

Nine years of schemes, of bribes, of secret meetings, and of plots. Nine years lead to Adron’s own response. He wanted revenge against the nobility, the corrupt, rotten core of this nation he so loved gone. These were the people that, at every turn in his life, fought him and hated him. No matter how valours his sacrifices, how loyal he was to the crown, or how desperately he defended his homeland, they saw him as a lowly commoner and nothing more.

Thus, for the people, for the unions, the army, his country, and… his wife, he killed them all. On the night of October 4th, 1909, the 5th Brigade and the 1st Winged Fusiliers executed a coordinated strike throughout the capital and the palace itself. The King’s Guard found bayonets in their chests before they knew it and the noble families across the city were waking up to soldiers breaking down their doors to “arrest” them for treason.

By the morning, nearly four hundred nobles, their entire families, and even some of their servants, found themselves in chains and the Field Marshal looking down upon them.

It had been said that the entire population of Arkan, the capital, turned out for the executions. At the very least, it looked that way to the Field Marshal as he watched the ocean of people move into the massive “Kings Garden” in front of the palace. The King was the first to go, then his wife, the Queen. One by one, nobles were marched up onto the decks of the execution platform. One by one, their heads fell into baskets. To the people of Avalia, this day is known as “Election Day”, the day the city drowned in blood. For the next few days riots had persisted in the city until Adron had allowed his brigade bring order once again. With this, came the proclamation. This was no longer the Kingdom of Avalia.

This was The Autumn Republic.

Since then, the nation has more or less stabilized over the past few months. There was a brief rise of Royalists who had slipped through the purge’s fingers, but they and their barricades had been put down over only a few weeks. Adron claimed to be merely a temporary figure head as his council made up of co-conspirators from peoples of power began to lay the foundation for a proper republic. Until then, the people of the new republic at least breath easy, for the know who this great man at the head of their nation was. To the workers, the merchants, and the Airborne Army, he was the father of their new nation. Hope, it seems, may just be on the horizon.

Territorial Claims:


Economy:
The lack of a proper merchant marine and the domestic problems at home as created a highly centralized economy within the nation. Large unions control vast swaths of labor, unions who not a decade before were entirely illegal.

Technology:

Army:

Navy:

Air Force:

Rolls:
Territory: 5 +3
Tech: 16 +2
Army Size: 11
Economy: 11 +3
Production: 14 +1
Navy Size: 6 -1
Airforce Size: 20
Magic: 11 -4
Mobilization: 10

Traits:

Foreign Relations:

Other:

Dulce et Decorum Est - A WWI Inspired NRP (dead for now)

I'd be very much interested in creating a nation. I take it you all are open?

The Last Tank Crew (Dystopian, Military, Action, Survival)

A hippity hoppity, y'all better get off my property.

Just kiddin, Co-GM reporting for duty as always. @Dynamo Frokane