Jump to content


Bedrock VIP
  • Content Count

  • Joined

  • Last visited

Community Reputation

792 Heroic

About TankM1A2

  • Rank

Contact Methods

  • Discord
    Tank #5162
  • Minecraft Username
  • Skype
  • Email

Profile Information

  • Gender
  • Location
  • Interests
    Hop off

Character Profile

  • Character Name
    Ser Carlovac
  • Character Race

Recent Profile Visitors

9,535 profile views
  1. ROCK ISLAND ARSENAL Task Force Bradley sweeps through the streets of Chicago, clearing out the neighborhoods west of the Airfield. The Rock - what the Rock Islanders had come to regard their operational headquarters. Although, a long shot away from the actual Rock Island from which their names derives, the Rock had finally begun to feel like home. Home or not, someone was trespassing on their territory. Reports had recently trickled in that just beyond the perimeter, a number of sentries had spotted movement, shifting around in the shadows, stalking the men of the Rock. Initially, they were dismissed as just mere Scavs. But as more and more men reaffirmed these claims, perhaps it wasn’t the wasteland deliria that had initially been suspected. That left General MacArthur in a tough situation. Indeed, he sought to be more proactive. He wanted to root out the issue before it festered, dealing with it before it could ever truly threaten the Rock. To claim as much of salvageable daylight as possible, a sortie was organized as the crack of dawn. They were to secure more of the perimeter around the Airfield. The target of this year’s operations would come in the western block. Some 60 men depart to sweep these new grounds with their wits about them. For now, the men of the Rock hunker down - ready to move on a moment’s notice. ACTIONS Treasury/Stockpile: (0C, 1L, 0M, 6F, 10S, 4E, 3AE) Resource Production: (19,500C (19,000 Base, 500 Trade Shop), 8L, 5M, 2F, 8S, 2E, 1AE, 5R) Upkeep: -7S, 7L, 1F, -4,500C (Scrapyards), -1,500 (Fortifications), -2,000 (Research Lab), -3,000 (Agriculture Houses) [4+6R] Charles E. Bush (INT 4, LUC 1) puts the finishing touches on the Heavy Weapons development, hoping to have Machine Guns in the hands of the footsoldier by the following year. [1R] Beginning research of T1 Grenades [5,000g] Constructing Trade Shop in Eastern Strip. [3,500] Training 14 Men to Regulars [3M, 1E] Producing 15 additional T3 Rifles [MOD] MacArthur has Edward M. Sturgis (CHA 2, END 1, STR 1, PER 2) and a detachment of 25 Regulars (T3 Weapons & Armor), and 26 Trained (T3 Weapons) to investigate and claim the Western Block. Accompanying them is another group from the Acquisitions Department, 10 Pipe rifle armed men (T1 Weapons) by George S. Patterson (PER 3, AGI 1, LUC 1) to find anything of use. A motorcycle QRF is on standby should they come under attack. [MOD + Sneaky?] Attempting to establish diplomatic contact with Goldman’s Caravan. If successful, treaties of mutual benefit would be offered...
  2. ROCK ISLAND ARSENAL A quiet night at the Airfield. Strictly, all the lights were turned off after the the Sun fell - as to not draw unwanted attention. They were largely understaffed; vulnerable. Only a fraction of the Rock Island staff knew how to not fumble with a rifle in their hands, and an even smaller portion had seen actual combat. If any sizable force was determined to throw themselves against the walls… well… that would be another problem to add to the pile. The issues of clean water, electrical outages, painfully slow technological advancement. With the newly acquired blocks, they were left stretched thin. The so-called East Strip was only manned by a small listening comprising less than full-strength squad. They sat quietly tucked away in a blown out brick apartment complex. A large crater in the building started at the third floor at the northeast corner of the building. From there, they established their perch, muzzles pointed out into the darkness, in command of the street below. They took turns on watch, observing. Watching. A Cpl. Powell had just got a brief amount of shut-eye, though was stirred again as one of his squadmates dropped an ammo cartridge. He woke, helmet draw over his eyes. He pushed it back, groggily and half-awake, crawlign over towards the watchman, “Hey. I’ll take it from here.” The man looked over his shoulder, “You sleep well?” he asked, weapon still propped against his shoulder. “As sound as one can in the wasteland.” The man simply nodded, “Ight. Shifting.” he said, picking up his rifle and falling back deeper into the building. The clinks of his canteen and rucksack trailing after him. The man maneuvered around Powell, slinking against a nearby wall at the other end of the room. Powell moved to assume his comrade’s former position, laying flat on his stomach as he propped his rifle against a sandbag. He stared down the sights of his rifle, aiming at a discarded frontal cranium of a mannequin at the sidewalk across. God, I hate the fuckin’ wasteland. He considered squeezing the trigger a few times to send some rounds down range, but decided it was against his better judgment. Instead he sat there silently, eyes glued upon the perimeter. Powell at his post. To break up the monotony, he murmured, “Hey, Evans.” After a few moments from the darkness, a hoarse and hushed voice replied, “Yeah?” “**** you.” said Powell. “Back at you, brother.” said Evans, disinterested, lazily flipping him the bird from his slouched position in the corner. Yes, this is what we’ve resorted to... ACTIONS Treasury/Stockpile: (1,750 C, 1M, 6F, 6S, 2E, 3 AE) Resource Production: (19,000C, 8L, 5M, 2F, 8S, 2E, 1AE, 5R) Upkeep: -7S, 3L, 1F, -4,500C (Scrapyards), -1,500 (Fortifications), -2,000 (Research Lab), -3,000 (Agriculture Houses) [5,000R] Constructing Trade Shop in Eastern Strip. [4,750] Training 19 men to Regular [4M] Constructing 25 Sets of T3 Armor [2M] Constructing 50 Pipe Rifles to issue to conscripts [5R] Beginning Machine Gun research, headed by Charles E. Bush (INT 4, LUC 1)
  3. ROCK ISLAND ARSENAL General MacArthur sauntered slowly across the tarmac to the site of the passenger jet. Accompanied by a small entourage of armed guards, they made their way across the strip. The General had liked to imagine that one day, the Airport would be up and running again, and life would be brought back to the city of Chicago. Yet, that could not be done through a snap of the fingers. Everyone knew this. First, the needs of his people would need to come before those of Chicago. As far as he was concerned, the Airfield had become a fortress - a reliable and sturdy forward operating base which granted them the needed foothold to begin reclaiming Chicago. They had been blessed thus far - having settled at such a crucial junction. The fact that last year’s expedition had returned with no casualties and secured block. And that they had their hands upon a relic of the pre-War… one that would give them much insight as to how their forefathers conquered the land. By now, he had reached the perimeter of Engine R&D. It was sectioned off by barbed wire fencing, and occasional sentries. A closely guarded secret, whatever tarps and such could be spared were cast to conceal the sensitive work going on within. MacArthur was quickly waved in by one of the guards, pushing back these sight blockers as he entered research area. The atmosphere was notably more stuffy with men and women welding and sparks flying to and fro. Makeshift scaffolds surrounded the scape, with men working at all elevations and manners of tools. He had not a clue what they were doing, though assumed Bush, his head of Research and Development did. In regards to Bush, he could be seen on the ground coordinating efforts to examine wiring and piecing together metal sheets. Bush held a clipboard, wearing a white coat and a construction cap. He paused, turning from the workers, as if sensing the presence of the General. “Ah.” he mouthed, stepping away from the project to have a word with MacArthur. “General.” he snapped to. “What’ve you got for me, Bush?” said MacArthur, moreso taken over by the spectacle of the project. “Well, sir, the motor-bike prototypes are complete. A squadron should be prepped and ready for service the following year.” MacArthur nodded, “And what of the, uh..” he hesitated, motioning towards the jet engine. “Ah yes. Progress is slow.” Bush turned, splaying a hand towards the efforts, “Far more complex than we’d have ever thought. But, given more time and resources, I feel we may be able to crack this Engima.” “Good, I’ll give you whatever you need. And if you need any spare parts, I’ll have the Acquisitions Department scavenge whatever necessary.” “Thank you, sir. I’m glad you understand the gravity our work here. The practical applications here are limitless...” “Trust me, I know…” said the General, going to clap Bush on the shoulder, “Don’t let me down.” Charles E. Bush stands alongside a discarded prototype. ACTIONS 15,000 in treasury Updated Stockpile: 0M, 4F, 4S, 1E, 2AE Available Funds: 19,000 (Income) + 15,000 (treasury) = 31,000C Resource Production: (7L, 5M, 2F, 6S, 2E, 1AE, 5R) Upkeep: -4S, 3L, 4,500C (Scrapyards), 1,500 (Fortifications) [MOD] [5(1 from nat focus) R|1 previously allocated] Additional resources are dedicated to the reverse engineering of the airplane engine. They hope for smaller, workable, and reliable prototypes for their motor vehicles. Research headed by Charles E. Bush (INT 4, LUC 1). [MOD] A group of 41 men; 1st Platoon, led by Lt. Edward M. Sturgis (CHA 2, END 1, STR 1, PER 1), move east to secure more territory for the Rock. [1M, 1E] Constructing 25 Scrap Bikes [3M 1 E] 15 T3 Rifles [20,000] Constructing Research Lab in eastern block. [7,500] Constructing 2 Additional Agriculture Houses Back to Stockpile/Treasury (1,750 C, 1M, 6F, 6S, 2E, 3 AE)
  4. ROCK ISLAND ARSENAL Rock Islander rifleman has a smoke, before setting out with Sturgis’s party. “Terra Incog-fuckin’-nita.” muttered Lt. Sturgis, as he hocked up and spat out a fat wad off to the side. He stood at the center of a platoon-sized column, plunging headlong into unknown territory. He adjusted the loose pot helmet which rest upon his head, displaying the bars of his rank forefront. Tightening his grip on his SMG as he scanned the wreckage around him. Husks of buildings and stripped down carcasses of vehicles lay everywhere. If Hell existed, this’d be it. It was an eerie silence around them, only broken up by the rhythmic of boots beating upon the street. Occasionally some horribly mutated rodent or similar creature would scurry through the back alleys, gnawing quite viciously. Some men lost their nerves, but would keep it together with the help of their squad leaders. Sturgis gazed over his shoulder, seeing the Airfield - the known bastion of safety - quickly disappear from view. No going back now. If they didn’t push on, who would? Yet as he thought about these things, he had kept walking forward - stopping just short of the man in front of him, who had paused in his tracks. Peering over the soldier, he could see that the pointman had signaled for a halt. Maybe things will get interesting. ACTIONS In Resource Stockpile: 1M, 2F, 1S, 1E, 1AE Income: 19,000 + 2,500 (treasury) = 21,500C Resource Production: (7L, 5M, 2F, 5S, 2E, 1AE, 5R) Upkeep: -4S, 3L, 3,000C Funds after Upkeep: 18,500 [4R] Finishing Scrap Bike Research [MOD|1R] Exploratory research into the Passenger Plane engine, headed by Charles E. Bush (INT 4, LUC 1). The area is cordoned off and under constant watch. [3,500] Training some 80 men in PT and Firearms Proficiency. Since there aren’t yet enough rifles to go around, they take turns… Sharing is caring. [MOD] With a platoon’s worth of men fully armed. MacArthur has Sturgis (CHA 2, END 1, STR 1, PER 1) take his men to the block east of the Airport. They attempt to clear the area of all hostiles and claim the lands for the Rock. [MOD] Once a decently defensible position on the tarmac was secured, old radios were booted up. Operators attempt to make contact with any nearby settlements. An Old U.S. Army frequency is also tried to attempt to link up with any remaining Federal units. [6M, 2E] Constructing 30 additional T3 Rifles. 15,000 back to treasury Updated Stockpile: 0M, 4F, 2S, 1E, 2AE
  5. ROCK ISLAND ARSENAL “...How far we’ve fallen.” Was the thought that came across, General MacArthur’s mind. He stepped out onto the middle of tarmac, boots crunching upon debris and decay alike. Around him lay vast remnants of a once great civilization. Grounded planes of a once prosperous hub through which travel flowed.. And beyond that a skyline which now lay in ruins - rusted, on the brink of collapse. But for mankind, that Collapse had already happened. What left was there to even reclaim? “Enough of that.” he scorned himself subconsciously. That was coward’s talk. MacArthur shook his at the thoughts that lingered. While he still drew breath, he would do everything in his power to ensure the safety and growth of his people. Though few in number, they made up for it in resolve and pride. He looked to the men surrounding him, descendants of proud American servicemen and veterans. He knew he was with the most capable of people he could be with. Afterall, they had spent decades plotting their return to the surface. With that, perhaps salvation could be found and hope still had. Having had enough of sightseeing, he stepped down from his pile of rubble, and returning to his Staff and immediately set about organizing the remnants of the Rock Island Garrison. “Get me a team prepped and ready to scout the perimeter” “Get this airfield fortified. As far as I’m concerned, this is our only safe haven in this hellhole.” “We’re gonna need motors to get anywhere fast in this city. Draw up some designs.” “God save us all.” ______________________________________________________________________________ ACTIONS Resource Production: (7L, 4M, 2F, 5S, 2E, 1AE, 5R) Upkeep: -4S Treasury: 19,000 C [5R(1 RIR&D)=6R] Researching Scrap Bikes [10,000 C] Constructing Scrap Yard [5,000g] Constructing Farmlands [1,500g] Constructing 3 Fortification Stacks on the Airport [3M, 1E] Procuring 15 Rifles [MOD] Harry. R. Warren (CHA 2, LUC 1, INT 2) takes a squad to investigate the Airport’s perimeter. [MOD] Charles E. Bush (INT 4, LUC 1) leads a team of researchers to dig through the remains of the airport for anything of value to aid Rock Island R&D. Resources to Stockpile: 5L, 1M, 2F, 1S, 1E, 1AE 2,500 C to treasury
  6. Application: (STARTING STATS WILL BE DETERMINED IN DISCORD DMS) Faction Name: Rock Island Arsenal Civilization Type: Civilized Faction Backstory: In decades past, Rock Island played a crucial role in the supply of the United States much-needed weapons and vehicles to wage war. In anticipation for the worst to come, the Rock was prematurely fortified and supplemented with blast-proof bunkers. Fortunately, much of the staff and garrison were able to evacuated underground in time. Yet, whether the same could be said about their families was unknown. Fearing total collapse of society, military leaders stationed at Rock Island began drawing preliminary plans to re-establish order. Training. Surviving. But they could not cower behind reinforced walls any longer, no. They had all but exhausted their supply of food and water. On that fateful days, the rusted doors of the bunkers ground open, flooding the inner chamber with the first natural light they’ve seen in ages. A new era was upon them. A rebirth or one that spelled their doom? Nevertheless, it was long overdue; time to fire up those old engines and assembly lines.” “Praise the Lord, and Pass the Ammunition.” Characters (Minimum 1, Max 5) Character 1 (Leader): General Robert H. MacArthur, Sr., Director Character 2 (Custom): Edward M. Sturgis, Head of Defense Character 3 (Custom): Charles E. Bush, Head of R&D Character 4 (Custom): George S. Patterson, Head of Acquisitions Character 5 (Custom): Harry R. Warren, Head of Internal Affairs Discord: Tank #9694
  7. “Very nice.” says Cassian Turo.
  8. “Nobody asked you, you glorified wet nurse.” says Cassian Turo of Rubern.
  9. EMPIRE OF BOURDELEAUX Ruler: H.I.M. Emperor Adrian II Government: Imperial Constitutional Monarchy Population: ~ 24,018,047 (next 25,759,355) Allies: Galaharian League, Kingdom of Fyr-Darrick(?) Trade Partners: Galaharian League, Kingdom of Fyr-Darrick, Kingdom of Helmedhi, Antigonids, Republic of Danwent, Hakkans, Princedoms of Volarucio, Aulem, House Blackmarrow, Trident, Kingdom of Numeria, Passans, Kingdom of Five, Symon, Eadni, Commonwealth of Ruhn, Surukai, Surya “...Your Highness?” “Come, Gustave, bring some men. We must venture down to the squabbler’s district.” “Sire, might I inquire, why?” the man asked. A young, though well-defined soldier of the Guard. A third son of an aristocrat, much like Francis to his father. Knowing he’d never inherit anything, he’d left home and enlisted his services for the Guard. To that, he found satisfaction. For there was no greater honor for a knight or aspirant. He possessed the characteristic blonde locks and blue orbs so desired throughout the nobility. In fact, appearing even more ‘noble’ than his eldest brother, who would come to inherit his family’s lands. Francis on the other hand, was less concerned with such base appearances, and kept Gustave as a friend for his loyalty and reliability. Francis was the youngest of the three sons of Adrian, yet he struck a balance between the two. Who would’ve been Adrian III, was thick-skulled and preferred to think with his sword foremost. His next brother, Philip, was loose of morals, lavishing completely in the privileges of being a son to the Emperor. Since Adrian’s death, Philip was inspected to inherit. Meanwhile, Francis kept his eyes on the whole ordeal, opting for now to not speak on such matters. For the time, their father still breathed, meaning Bourdeleaux would be in good hands. “Hm?” said Francis, his head buried in a manifest. He looked up, “Oh, yes. Every so often we must re-negotiate our contracts with the Guilds. In particular, the Blacksmith’s Guild.” “Who forge the armor that I currently don, I take it.” said Gustave, brushing down his black and gold breastplate.” “Precisely. And they who arm the majority of our nation’s armed forces. Gotta keep ‘em happy and working.” “I understand.” “And when the time for the armor and weapons shipments come, I’ll need you to oversee escort details, bringing them up to the Armory.” “Aye, Your Highness. I can do that.” “Good, let’s go then.” said Francis, lowering the document. “...Are you sure, you should be going? Can’t someone else be sent?” “Nonsense. If not me, then who? Certainly not my brother.” he scoffed. “Might do them good to see a friendly face rather than be bombarded with the drawl of quotas and numbers.” “Hm. None other with your tact.” he said, grabbing his poleaxe. Standing in the midst of the chamber, he pointed out and selected other Guardsmen to come, “Right, you five, with me.” Without further delay and an aye, sir, the other men fell in line. “Let’s not delay.” Francis said, beckoning his ally onwards. The Guildmaster nearly spat out his drink, “Twenty-thousand suits of armor!” he exclaimed, followed by an airy chuckle, “Heh, are there even enough smiths in the country to fulfill that order?” He was a large, sturdily-built man with much of his weight found within his shoulders. He had a large, brown beard, which he audibly could be heard being scratched - like running a hand through sand paper. “Mister Burgeon, hear me out, would you?” “Hm.” he grumbled. “We need that armor for our boys fighting abroad. Everyone serves, one way or another. Some with sword and shield in hand, while others forge the armor ‘pon their backs.” “You tryna test me? I did my time in the Black.” “Of course not. Just reminding you how crucial it is we get these arms to them.” “It simply isn’t feasible. Y’know, we have lives outside of hammering away with sweat on our brows, eh? … families, children, wives…” “I understand. Which is why, we are prepared to offer a 2 year tax break, throughout the duration.” The Guildmaster rose a brow, practically risen from his seat, “Is that so? Hm, perhaps we could make it work.” “So do we have a deal?” “Aye, that we do.” Just so you know, I would’ve done it for one. FINANCES AND ACTIONS Income: 326,500g (Base - 3k, 6 Economy Pts - 6k, Pop - 70.5k Resources - 6k, Merchant Guilds - 27k, Base Trade - 28k, Ports - 64k, Cities/Towns - 123k, Incoming Caravels - 1k, Manufactories - 1k) Upkeep: 26,000g (Army), 11,500g (Veterancy), 5,000 (Navy) = 42,500g. 4,000 from treasury [35,000g] Constructing 7 Farms [20,000g] Constructing 4 Settlements; Salagnac, Preux, Maasbrecht, Bacerna [0g] Upgrading Essec, Lochamps, and Louvaines to Towns [12,500+5,000g] Upgrading Omignon to High Quality Tall Walls [17,500] Upgrading Talouse to Strong, Tall Walls [45,000g] Constructing 9 Barracks [15,000g] Upgrading Challons to City [15,000g] Constructing Port in Frigia [13,500] Constructing Temple in Omignon [72,000g] Recruiting 9 Units of T4 Heavy Infantry [6,000g] Recruiting 1 Units of T4 Medium Infantry [4,500] Recruiting 1 Unit of T3 Medium Archers [10,000g] Recruiting 1 Units of T4 Medium Cavalry [6,000g] Recruiting 2 Units of T3 Light Infantry [5,000g] Importing Danwentii Grain [0g] Dupuis and his crew continue sailing west. [10,000g] Paying for mercenary companies [0g] Inquiring with Revar’s Gulf-based mercenaries. 1,000g to treasury
  10. EMPIRE OF BOURDELEAUX Ruler: H.I.M. Emperor Adrian II Government: Imperial Constitutional Monarchy Population: ~ 22,394,449 (next 24,018,047) Allies: Galaharian League, Kingdom of Fyr-Darrick Trade Partners: Galaharian League, Kingdom of Fyr-Darrick, Kingdom of Helmedhi, Antigonids, Republic of Danwent, Hakkans, Princedoms of Volarucio, Aulem, House Blackmarrow, Trident, Kingdom of Numeria, Passans, Kingdom of Five, Symon, Eadni, Commonwealth of Ruhn, Surukai WHERE HAS OUR FAITH GONE? It was a bright, sunny day in lands of Suttre. The Sun shone gracefully on these lands, glimmering upon the twin rivers of the Suttresian Valley. Indeed, it was a day to be productive. It was warm, though not warm enough to a fault. A comfortable temperature and fair weather. Such was the blessings of the Great Sun. Indeed, for some time the people of Suttre felt easy. There hadn’t been any turbulent storms, flood, or any sort of inclement weather. Only the delicate hand of the Sun, guiding its children. He watched over them as they hung fish upon their drying racks, hammered metal into shape, or cut down tree. He was everywhere and knew all. That was all the solace they needed. That is, at least how the commoners felt toward the issue. A decent portion of the majority was indifferent to their God. Some even doubting his status as a ‘god’. The more practical believed him to be just a force of nature. “That’s not a damned force of nature!” a voice rung out. It was from within the hold of the Duke of Suttre. It seemed he had assembled his closed council within the meeting chamber. In his holdfast of stone dating back years now, the Duke confided. The chamber was open to the elements, with a large balcony adjacent to the large rectangular table in which the men were sat. Outside, the quiet chirping of birds and gentle rustling of leaves provided ambience to those within. Though, they took notice of such pleasantry at the moment. They were engaged in thought-provoking discussion, trading wit and logic with one another for some time. The Duke sat at the end of the table, hearing these men out. “What would you call it then?” asked the Duke, a large man by Bourdelaic standards, with a round belly and an overgrown beard, brown as the bark upon an oak. “Cursed sourcery!” shouted the same man, the local bishop. “I’m inclined to agree.” said another man, armored. “What kind of nature grows within seconds, overrunning men and civilization alike in a sprawl of roots and vines? It is the opposite of natural.” “Which is what we’re dealing with. A risk. Now why would His Grace, the Duke, wish to send off our finest fighting men to deal with that? It simply is not worth it.” came a voice from another party, bearing the pin of the Ducal Master of Coin. The armored man shot back, “What is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, Lord Adenin? You were born into your wealth. Haven’t had lifted a single finger. What do you know about expense?” “Sir Geoffrey, the fact of the matter is…” The Duke raised his hand, “Enough, we’ll provide my finest banners to the Emperor’s cause. This is final.” “Your Grace?” “The Emperor looks upon those favorably who supports his campaigns. Yes, we do indeed have much to gain, though also much to lose. Yet, we may be privy to the spoils of this land, and we may perhaps be given additional rights befitting of a loyal servant of the Crown. Maybe new lands to be added to the demesne of Suttre, hm.” “Only one way to find out if its worth it or not. Sir Geoffrey ready the men, this meeting is adjourned.” At the conclusion of this meeting, the disgruntled Archbishop had other plans in mind. He grumbled to himself, loathing the fact he had to do business with cowards like Adenin. He dusted off his robes, rose from his seat, bowed, and departed the chambers. Yet it was beyond Suttre’s hold, that he bumped into Sir Geoffrey, exchanging thoughts about the session. It was from Geoffrey that the Archbishop had a spark of inspiration. Over the course of the next few days, he would travel by road to the Capital. Rough and rugged, a bumpy ride by horseback, he trekked north. In doing so, he sullied his fine purple garbs, though, this was worth the risk. During this trip, he had much time to contemplate. Arriving at the Papal Palace, it was evident that he was immediately beholden to the Pontifex. Showing him great respect, kissing his hand several times over, as wrinkled as it was. “Your Holiness.” The aged figure, hunched, greyed, and covered with liver spots, smiled at the arrival of his friend, “Archbishop, why have you come to me on this day?” before the Archbishop could respond the Pontifex responds, “How fares the Archdiocese of Suttre, hm? Well?” “Yes, Your Holiness, it is well. But also no… Over the past months I’ve noticed a decline in fervor and dedication to our shared faith. Seems to me that people have forgotten the divinity of the Bright One… neglecting his supernatural powers… Of course, they know they need him, but they don’t grasp his benevolence… his mercy... “ “...A valid concern, yes. We’ll need to reinvigorate the faith. I may have some ideas, though, I’d like to hear your own.” “We need action. An enemy. His Imperial Majesty’s campaign to the north already highlights the evil of the dreaded forest. Yet none know of this, we must deliver the news to the masses.” “Yet how does this affect them? Last I heard His Imperial Majesty’s campaign fared well…” “We’ll need an outrage. An atrocity which will spur the good men into arms and faith.” “Such as?” The Archbishop coughed, speaking grimly well, “Well… Should the campaign fail?” “Do you expect it to?” “... It’s within the realm of possibility…” The Pontifex’s face turned grim, nodding, “I see. If such a tragedy were to befall us… yes, it would be indeed a rallying cry for our Faith…. I’ll make the preparations…” Yet, the Archbishop’s work there was not done yet. As departed the Papal Palace, he realized he had more business to settle. A staunch loyalist to the Crown, he could not sit idly by if Adrian were to pass and the throne would fall to the his slothful and incompetent son. Not while he still breathed, no. He made strides of haste, trudging through the disease riddled, noisy, and crowded slums of Souvois. He loathed making this journey to the upper districts. It also made him uneasy. He was an easy target for lowlives and scum who needed to make a quick buck. Yet, he found the security and the guard force in the lower districts readily sufficient. A pairing of soldiers usually found at the corner of every block put his mind at rest. Exhausted, he ascended thousands of steps to the top, reaching the Imperial Palace. He was a frequent here, all things considered. And he was acknowledged by the guards as a friend of the Crown, who waved him in with few questions asked. Slowing to a trudge, legs nearly giving out, he finally made it to the upper halls. He had arrived. The chambers of Adrian’s son. His second eldest. Francis. “Your Highness..” FINANCES AND ACTIONS Income: 302,000g (Base - 3k, 6 Economy Pts - 6k, Pop - 66k Resources - 6k, Merchant Guilds - 21k, Base Trade - 28k, Ports - 56k, Cities/Towns - 114k, Incoming Caravels - 1k, Manufactories - 1k) Upkeep: 23,000g (Army), 9,500g (Veterancy), 5,000 (Navy) =37,500g. +2,500 +2,000 from Royal Olympics Earnings [35,000g] Constructing 7 Farms [15,000g] Constructing 3 Settlements; Essec, Lochamp, Louvaines [0g] Upgrading Settlements Cours, Pervac, and Vellembert to Town [15,000] Upgrading Frigia to City [15,000g] Constructing Port in Gadebors [10,000g] Constructing Merchant’s Guild in Gadebors The Solar Church is not exempt from their wartime dues. By Imperial Decree, they are to send additional magi and adept auxiliaries. Constructing Cathedral in Souvois. [40,500g] General mobilization and recruitment. Notably, the Duke of Suttre musters many fine foot knights and men-at-arms; his forces being incorporated into the 14th Brigade [16,500g] Recruiting 1 Unit of T4 Knights of Ogrun [10,000g] Recruiting 1 Unit of Elite T4 Heavy Infantry [18,000g] Recruiting 2 Units of Veteran T4 Heavy Infantry [56,000g] Recruiting 7 Units of Regular T4 Heavy Infantry [3,000g] Recruiting 1 Unit of Regular T4 Crossbowmen [9,000g] Recruiting 3 Units of Regular T3 Light Infantry [2,000g] Recruiting 4 Units of Regular T1 Voulgiers A secure shipment of Gold is transported over the Roots to Numeria to procure additional magical mercenaries. [15,000g] Importing Moranese Wheat from the Kingdom of Danwent. [5,000g] Dupuis and his jolly band of sailors continue further west. 4,000 to treasury
  11. AVAR KHAGANATE RULER: IRRIK, KAGAN OF THE AVAR PEOPLES TRADE PARTNERS: Byzantium, Scirii, Vandals, Crimeans STANDING ALLIANCES: N/A Victorious Avar warriors returning with spoils from the summer raids Eastern Europe in past decades had hardly been a hotbed of major wars in insurrection. The Franks appeared to be losing their grip over much of their holdings. It is within this vacuum that the Avar peoples entered Europe, settling in the Pannonian basin. Led by their Khagans, the Avars have made well for themselves, establishing various settlements and farming communities. However, they were not destined for sedentary life. The Venetians would be the first to bear the brunt of an Avar raid. Descending upon the Adriatic Coast were hundreds of steppe horsemen, the likes of which haven’t been seen since the days of Attila. With bow and spear in hand, the Avars laid waste to the outlying settlements, brutally cutting down all that stood in opposition. An unstoppable tide of thundering hooves and a withering barrage of arrow after arrow. Endless as their volleys were, so were their riders and mounts. A true horde. Among their targets were fringe monasteries and chapels. Cutting down many a monk or deacon, they wondered what had they done to deserve such a fate. Brutalized, mutilated and desecrated. Some thought that the Avars were the punishment for mankind’s sins. One surviving monk came to regard them as the Scourge of God. Perhaps, rightfully so. The punishment they had inflicted was severe. The Avars made off with golden idols, statues, jewelry, and whatever they could carry with them, and leaving behind a wake of burning hovels and a trail of corpses. No doubt would the raids carry on again. However, they would alter their route… in search of more opportunity. FINANCES & ACTIONS Treasury: 4 grain Income: 16,400+5,000 from raids Total Available Funds: 21,400 14,000g Upgrading all Medium Horsemen to T3 Equipment 4,000 Upgrading all Light Horsemen to T3 Equipment 2,000 Upgrading Unit of Qhagan Guards to Veteran 1,400 to treasury 0 Launching raid against Epirus
  12. TankM1A2

    The Response

    Trende is not a malicious player. What has happened to him is unjustified and a mistake.
  13. EMPIRE OF BOURDELEAUX Ruler: H.I.M. Emperor Adrian II Government: Imperial Constitutional Monarchy Population: ~ 20,929,392 NEXT 22,394,449 Allies: Galaharian League, Kingdom of Fyr-Darrick Trade Partners: Galaharian League, Kingdom of Fyr-Darrick, Kingdom of Helmedhi, Antigonids, Republic of Danwent, Hakkans, Princedoms of Volarucio, Aulem, House Blackmarrow, Trident, Kingdom of Numeria, Passans, Kingdom of Five, Symon, Eadni, Commonwealth of Ruhn Map of the Realm THE FORGE A typical day in Souvois. The Imperial City was frequented often by farmers, traders, merchants, craftsmen, nobles, and all. The city stood in stark contrast to the flat plains of golden wheat and infrequent patches of spare woods that surrounded Souvois for as far as the eye can see. Yet, at the forge, large billows of smoke protrude into the sky - clouds of black dissipating into the skies. Funneled out by large chimneys, the smoke had its origins in an endeavor in the city’s industrial district. A new contract was handed down directly frown the Crown, given to Cours Armory. Cours Armory was charged with a monumental task… one the executive had thought nearly impossible. What the Bourdelaise understood about energy manipulation and matter would have to be scrapped and altered down to the very core to complete this task. Returning military advisors and survivors of the Field of Tears have all reported the same thing. The Sun was a deadly weapon, more than just the ever-present Father it had been thought to have been. While indeed the Sun provided the warmth and light that allowed life to flourish and even survive… its gifts for the world could also be turned against its inhabitants. The Sun has oft scorched its blazing heat in times of drought, causing dehydration, famines, or even storms. Field of Tears veterans have suggested that the power of the Sun can be turned against our foes. The Hakkan mages laid waste to ranks of Swine and Karel in a flurry of meteors, solar beams, and radiation. Can this magic be manipulated? Can a physical weapon be forged which harnesses the Sun’s power… condenses it into a projectile? If this could be achieved, the potential lethality of the Black Army would skyrocket. Siege or field artillery, the concept was planned as light and portable. It was hoped that such a weapon would be versatile and able to be used by the common soldier. An ambitious plan, very much still within its infancy. Some might say that it was practically infeasible. Impossible, even. Yet, helping Cours Armory achieve this task were the Empire’s brightest Engineers and most learned Sourcerers. The development was a mix of magic and mundane. The Engineers and Sourcerers had their own separate ideas on how to tackle the issue, each group butting heads with one another and proving to be an impediment rather than helpful. Some incantations were involved, while special lenses were forged. Refraction and channeling. Frames were pieced together. The developers had near zero idea what they were doing. Yet, they threw their backs into it nonetheless. In the open air of the Royal Ordnance Yards, they tinkered and toiled away, achieving seemingly nothing more than putting some mirrors together. THE PROFLIGATE Though despite being the administrative hub of the Empire and seat of the Emperor himself, the Imperial Palace was often devoid of chatter and noise. Perhaps in a secluded dining room or in the gardens, members of the Imperial Family would entertain courtiers and guests. These were often lesser nobles and wards of the Greater Houses, who dwelled within the Imperial Palace. Often it was for selfish need, favor, and personal gain. Other times, people were invited to the Palace at the behest of a prince of princess. Hospitality was paramount in Bourdelaic society. Treat others how you’d like them to treat you. Be friendly and kind to strangers and give to the poor. That’s what was ingrained in the minds of the Bourdelaise since youth. Yet others, may take this hospitality to an extreme… Perched atop the immaculate throne was the spawn of the reigning Emperor Adrian II, Philip. A prince in his own right, afforded the status of heir to the Empire. His brother had died a premature death on the field of battle, fighting to defend believers across the Gulf. A noble cause. Rumors had returned to Bourdeleaux he had died a hero, and a literal of blaze of glory, chosen by the Bright One and imbued with his holy, fiery fury. They say he cut down vast swaths of men left and right, only being brought down by sheer weight of numbers. Adrian was his brother’s name, after his father. He was supposed to ascend the throne as the next in the line of Bourdelaic monarchs. Philip left much to be desired. He was nothing like his elder brother, much to the dismay of their father. Philip could barely hold a sword straight before shirking in fear. Instead of leading men on the front, Philip indulged himself. Drinking, debauchery, and the like. His father did all he could sort him out, though to no avail. Even now in his father’s absence he sat legs sprawled upon the Imperial throne, keeping eye upon an orgy that unfolded upon the Reception Chamber. His friends sat beside him, slouched, and fed grapes by attendants. Some even partook in the sinful activities. A cacophony of pleasure and moans, intertwined limbs, and flesh rubbing up against each other. Philip took a bite into his apple as a servant fanned him. A servant hurriedly entered the chamber, bowing greatly in the presence of the Prince, although taking severe discomfort in the debauchery beside him. “Your Highness, the Wolves, they’ve returned…” He groaned, waving off the messenger, “Ah yes, I’ll see to it.” he looked to his side, “Lord LaChance will see to it.” Lowering his tone, he spoke to his comrade. “Take a brigade, whatever you need.” The lordling rose, “Very well.” For the crown prince, that was the end of the issue… and as far as his concern extended. Rumors of the profligate prince often trickled down to the common folk. Though, they were never able to verify such claims. When the Palace Doors opened to the citizenry, it was Adrian that they often spoke and confided with. The Prince may be seen in the background, bored, having no interest in statecraft and politics. It had become quite clear that the Crown Prince had secluded himself with a close band of friends and allies. A near impenetrable inner circle, of the sons of the most elite of Bourdelaic society. A most concerning prospect for the future of Bourdeleaux. Though, time would tell how we would stack up against his predecessors when he inherited the throne… THE FAITHFUL In the Sky District, the Great Cathedral saw grand renovations. The Solar Church possessed vast amounts of money, as solidified into Bourdelaic society as the nobility. The structure jutted into the Sky, bringing the Bourdelaise ever closer to the Great Sun. It had a commanding view of the surrounding city, with the westwork being able to be seen from dozens of miles out. Yet now, there were plans in motion for even the impressive twin towers of the westwork to be dwarfed. A new spire was to be constructed. In concept, it was to dwarf all auxiliary structures of the Cathedral. At its peak it was to contain a celestium in which to study the stars and the aspects of the Bright One. That is, if the structure didn’t come to collapse upon itself. Masses and sermons continued as usual, with huge flocks of the city being seated within the grand nave. All that changed was the loud clangs of wood and metal being shaped together far above and out of sight. THE HOLOCAUST The aftermath of the march of the Black Army Bourdeleaux was founded through the conquest and subjugation of those around them. From the proto-tribes that inhabited the region to the neighboring countries on the borders of the realm. Now, the Black Army moved once more, with blessing from the Pontifex. Through bold decree, the Lithborn were declared enemies of the Bourdelaic state… their country to be dismantled and their forests torched. The forests were a monstrosity in the eyes of the Bourdelaise. Already had its tendrils spread into Naros. How long before the woods were stretched into the realms of civilized men. They could not wait for that day. Pre-emptive measures were necessary. Coming to the aid of the Volarucio, Bourdeleaux moved northwards to deal with the Green Plague once and for all. The Emperor had never waged such a campaign of destruction. The forest had to be burned, salted, and plowed. As far as they were concerned, the forest was their turf… an advantage that needed to be eliminated. Practically suffocating on ashes and particles, Adrian had thrown his cloak around his face. All around him a blazing inferno raged. As if Hell itself had been brought up to the surface. Forward was nothing more than smoke and flames. Yet behind him stood the largest host he had ever gathered, with a single goal in mind. With the Black Army at his back and his trusted commanders at his side, he felt the first solace he had since he and his men partook in this march. Deeper and deeper they ventured, headlong into the unknown. THE UNKNOWN The HIMS Prince Adrian somewhere off the coast of the Surukai. For a series of painful and arduous months, the crew of HIMS Prince Adrian traversed the ocean blue. Bourdelaic men were never accustomed to sailing, prefering to have their boots set upon solid ground. Yet, there was indeed a first time for everything. Brief encounters with the west left the Bourdelaise wondering what else could be out there? Having heard rumors a fabled continent; twin isles renowned in their beauty and bounty, the Crown knew they had to investigate. The Crown selected Sir Gregoire Dupuis for the task, a sailor, perhaps the best one Bourdeleaux has ever known. Even then, that was not saying much. Yet, he was honored to undertake this sacred task… to expand the influence of Bourdeleaux abroad. A noble cause, one which he may potentially be remembered for centuries to come. He never thought it would end. The wooden carrack rocked hard, left to right. The crashing sound of waves lapping against the hull had become monotonous. To break up the monotony, some of the deck hands sang shanties that reminded them of home. Sir Gregoire had little choice but to oblige them. He may as well partake and strengthen the bonds with his crew. Some countless weeks in, a spotter on the crow’s nest sounded, “Land ahead!” The crew stirred, most pushing to the railings to gaze upon these unknown lands. Densely forested, they were shrouded in mystery. Coming ashore, they discovered people before unknown to them. They regarded themselves as the Surukai, and came with skin in a tone before unseen. The crew marveled at the sight of them. Exchanged goods and refilled supplies. They were kind enough, having not attacked the Bourdelaise on sight. Though, perhaps the next time the ballistae swung into action, they would not be so fortunate. They spent some time here and bid the Surukai good fortunes. From them, they presumably heard more of the peoples of Surya. Rumors of monstrous elephants, lush jungles, a mirrored city, all trickled into their ears. They were aroused. Their interests peaked. Better yet, they believed it to be fairly close. It was a natural course for the crew of the HIMS Prince Adrian. Though, what most caught the attention of Sir Gregoire was their solar worshipping nature. What ideas could be exchanged, what knowledge and insight into their faith could be gathered? The potential was limitless. Even if the other faithful were poo skins... CITIES Souvois (15 Barracks, 1 Port, 1 Hermitage, 1 Church, 1 Merchant’s Guild) Omignon (1 Port, 1 Merchant’s Guild) Vascogne (1 Port, 1 Merchant’s Guild) Senzia-by-the-Bay (1 Port, 1 Merchant’s Guild) Alingavia (1 Port, 1 Merchant’s Guild) Talouse (1 Port, 1 Merchant’s Guild) Lassus TOWNS 19 24 Suttre-upon-the-Twins Vispard Adana Frigia Mennebor Coutrinia Rune Verendelia Plestiphor Touvres Benninbinges Epsomme Werdaux Serridinia Wetz Lusignan Gadebors Alingavia Talouse Vermont Moraviscourt Venderval Annecy Valence Vussel Reynes Pulle Duvernay SETTLEMENTS - 3 Challons Guillac Porfront FARMLANDS - 84 - 21,000,000 SETTLEMENT CAP - 53 RECRUITMENT CAP - 11 FINANCES AND ACTIONS Income: 277,500g (Base - 3k, 6 Economy Pts - 6k, Pop - 61.5k Resources - 6k, Merchant Guilds - 18k, Base Trade - 28k, Ports - 48k, Cities/Towns - 105k, Incoming Caravels - 1k, Manufactories - 1k) Upkeep: 22,000g (Army), 8,500g (Veterancy), 3,000 (Navy) =33,500g. 10,000g from wolf attacks [30,000g] Constructing 6 Farms [0g] Upgrading Challons, Guillac, and Porfront to Towns [15,000G] Constructing 3 Settlements; Cours, Pervac, and Vellembert [15,000g] Constructing Port in Lassus [10,000g] Constructing Merchant’s Guild in Lassus [15,000g] Upgrading Gadebors to City [175,000g] Upgrading Vascogne to High Quality Tall Walls [64,500+25,500/90,000] Finishing Construction of Monastery [18,000g] Recruiting 3 Units of T4 Medium Infantry [40,000g] Recruiting 5 Units of T4 Heavy Infantry [18,000g] Recruiting 2 Units of T4 Veteran Heavy Infantry [5,000g] Recruiting 1 Units of T3 Crossbowmen [6,000g] Laying down keels of HIMS Comet and HIMS Valiant. Constructing 2 Carracks. [6,000g] Constructing 8 ballista to be mounted on the Comet and Valiant MOD [10,000g/2 EDU PTS] In the Imperial City of Souvois, the brightest minds from the Imperial Colleges of Sorcery and the Engineers’ Guilds collaborate. Exploratory research is dabbled into regarding the possibility of utilizing the energy of the Sun for artillery and as a siege weapon. Preliminary designs are drafted which include an array of refracting mirrors and lenses which condenses solar energy into a projectile or beam. They have no idea if it’ll actually work, but the prospect sounds promising and is thus greenlit…. [0g] After stocking up on some more supplies, Sir Gregoire Dupuis takes the HIMS Prince Adrian further west along the coast. [0g] Sending elements of the Black Army north to establish order in the provinces along the Barrier and to defend against wolf incursions. [0g] Bourdeleaux does accept the offer of the Numerian researchers. Although skeptical if the tools would be any better than steel, a shipment of Black Iron tools is indeed shipped across the Roots. [0g] A chaplain embedded in the Black Army prays to the Great Sun to seek methods to kill the wretched forest. [0g] TRADE REQUEST WITH THE SURUKAI princess isabelle heads north with the next batch of reinforcements
  • Create New...