Finest Hour: The Great Nuran War [WWII][1340s][OPEN]

[Qyr]

"There is no hunting like the hunting of man, and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter."
- Ernest Hemingway

 

Finest Hour: The Great Nuran War

The year is 1341, and a great tension can be felt throughout Nur. The Kalmachian Empire, a feared hegemon on the continent, rules its colonial territories with great determination. Its rule extends from the Imperial capital of Easthaven, all the way South to the Qyrene Gulf, and from the rolling Ionian hills in the West to the rocky cliffs of Ostronia in the east. Its power is vast, its people loyal, and yet there is a palpable tension, an air of unease, in the Nuran air. The 1340s stand as a time of revolution and reform, of blood and iron, where young men and women agitate for independence in the city of Astenburg, frigates under the imperial banner conduct drills in the Sideric seas, and factory workers toil in eastern factories, producing as many tanks as their country demands of them.

 

(...)

 

Welcome to Finest Hour: The Great Nuran War! In this RP, we'll simulate the rocky 1340s in Nur, where a period of anti-imperial sentiment and Kalmachian repression plunged the continent into a destructive war that raged for half a decade. In this RP, we'll start in the year 1341, the year in which members of the INLF, the Ionian National Liberation Front, declare unilateral independence from Kalmach. The war will be fought between two opposing camps, those being:
The Astenburg Entente: Named after the Ionian capital of Astenburg, the Astenburg entente refers to a loose coalition of anti-Kalmachian powers who are intent on destroying Kalmachian supremacy over Nur. The two leading powers of the coalition are the Grand Republic of Ionia, whose unilateral declaration of independence was intended to be the first domino that would lead to the collapse of the Kalmachian empire, as well as the Kherate of Inseberistan, whose dissatisfaction with the Kalmachian colonial authorities in the neighbouring Ostronia make for some serious border frictions between them.

The Imperial Concordat: Refers to the loose confederation of states that are either part of the larger Kalmachian empire, such as its loyal colonies in Qyr and Ostronia, but also to countries that chose to establish deeper ties to Kalmachia because of strategic considerations of rivalries with anti-Kalmachian states and organisations.

Navigate your country through the tumultuous 1340s, where technological innovations make the horrors of war more terrible than ever-imagined, totalitarian ideologies consume the public's imagination and bellicose governments come knocking for recognition and support.

 

As with any good roleplay, we'll need some...

RULES

1. The TWP RP Guidance on Session Zero is to be observed at all times.
2. To not derail a conflict that is supposed to have been fought primarily in Nur,
The right to declare and fight 'open' war is reserved to Nuran countries.
Non-Nuran states can freely participate through other means, such as:
- Volunteer Forces and Mercenaries
- Embargoes and Investments
- Humanitarian Missions
- Media coverage
- Covert Operations
Et cetera.
3. This thread is strictly IC-only.
Any OOC questions, suggestions or remarks should be made in the TWP Roleplay Server.
4. Players are asked to supply every post with an IC date.
5. Nuran nations  are asked to give a broad overview of their country in the 1340s in their first post.
6. Godmodding and metagaming are prohibited.
7. Having fun is a mandatory requirement to playing in this RP.
All participants that aren't having fun will be rounded up and summarily executed.

TIME PROGRESSION

Countries get a lot of discretion about how they'd like to work with our very flexible chronology.
We would like to give countries the space and time to write out whatever stories they want to explore,
whilst also maintaining a pace that's enjoyable for the rest of the players participating.
The only quantifiable rule about pacing is that chronology must be linear:
A country cannot suddenly go back in time and change its behaviour or decisions.
Other than that, the aim is to come together and create a fun and engaging story for everybody;
the leniency specific countries get with their timing isn't supposed to be exploited, and if any troubles
do come up further down the road, we'll solve them together.

The RP starts in January 1341, and time will slowly go on and on until we reach the end of this RP, which is set to be around 1345 / 1346.
The speed of this RP will be decided by the players, and said players are encouraged to make it so that maintain chronological cohesion. Chronological differences between one post and the next may absolutely exist: if one part of the front is quiet and players want to progress to the next month, they shouldn't be held up by players on another front. However, we ask that discrepancies between timelines are kept to a minimum. In this regard, a balance between playability and orderly, cohesive storytelling should be found.

MAP

A map showcasing the different belligerents in this war is TBD.

FAQ

Any inquiries about the conflict or its background can be asked in the
TWP Roleplay Discord server. All countries in Esforos are free and encouraged to join and contribute to the story at large.

 

Special thanks to Inseberistan, Ostronia, Ionia and Kalmach for helping me with this war. They are my CO-OPs.

[Qyr]

Þirenz ob der Mäßl, Wednesday, 3rd of January 1341
1500 Local Time

 

From atop the belfry of the yellowist Temple of Plå, one of the oldest structures in Þirenz, a grey pigeon fed its young. The view from atop the tallest structure in the Qyrene capital must have been most impressive: A view of the colossal Mäßl river and the historic inner city was certainly to behold. Once his chicks had had enough, he spread his wings, flying off to find more. The citizens of the capital had a saying: "Not even the pigeons need hunger in our splendid city", referring to Þirenz's special position as a major commercial hub in southern Nur. Indeed, the pigeons had it good now: the Nuran black kites, predatory birds of prey that usually stalked them in cities such as this one, had migrated northwards, choosing to winter in warmer climates. The pigeon let down his guard, choosing to fly a little higher to get a good view of the city. He hovered in the air for a second, considering where he should fly to. The old bird instinctively turned itself around, coursing a trajectory to Frômann Park, named after the 8th-century Kalmachian explorer that had founded the city all those years ago. He approached, his eyes scanning plenty of tasty seeds and berries ripe for the taking, when suddenly...

WHOOSH!

The poor pigeon, too caught up in a daydream about the next worm he'd catch, was sent tumbling to the ground after a Model 38 Pöhlsen Plå flew closely by. A boatswain (Bootsmann) called Preiß watched through his rear-seat canopy as the bird swiftly regained its composure, flying off after what must have been a tremendous fright. "Close one." the NCO remarked under his breath. He had seen countless planes go down thanks to collisions with birds, and the fact that the young pilot flying the seaplane was tempting fate started to irritate him. He had been among the few men of his generation to have been impressed into the Imperial Qyrene Navy, and was uncharacteristically driven and hard-working for a pressed man. 

   "What sights, eh Preiß?" a voice boomed over the intercom.

Ensign Arthur Cambyses von Kerckerinck zu Hülshoff, the pilot flying the plane, had been most eager to get his wings. After graduating at the Imperial Qyrene Naval Academy at Buxenhoben-upon-Braack, his well-off, patrician family had got him a lofty posting aboard the HIMQS Adler von Þirenz, a stone frigate of the Imperial Qyrene Navy that served as one of the navy's aerodromes. Today, he had finally been called up for his flying examination. If he'd only pass his examination today, he would be awarded a commission as a lieutenant-at-sea. Between the eager pilot and the stone-faced NCO sat Chief Mate (Obermaat) Heinrich Barth, a stubby, short man who served as the aeroplane's radio operator. He had grown up alongside the ensign, and had opted for service with the Imperial Navy over the Merchant Marine, since times were peaceful and the pay was good. The pay was even better for aircrew, and so, at the behest of his old friend, he signed up as a radio operator, and through a combination of luck and nepotism, Von Kerckerinck zu Hülshoff had managed to get his old friend posted with him at the Adler von Þirenz.

  "I've seen enough. Steer us back to the Adler." the NCO commanded in a tone that made the young patrician fear that he would fail his flying exam. He navigated back to the air base, which was situated only out of bounds of the city and a canal of the mighty Mäßl river, where the floatplane could safely land. Barth requested the right to land via the Plå's airband. The ensign landed his plane magnificently, and as a small brownwater patrol boat towed it to one of the water-side docks, where it could be safely returned to one of the hangars. As the plane's floats gracefully slid over the calm water of the canal, an eerie silence filled the plane as the young ensign awaited Preiß's judgment.

 

After disembarking and waiting for what must have been an enternity, Arthur was approached by his commanding officer, squadron leader major Von Serhuyghs, a man of patrician stock just like himself. Von Serhuyghs had a dour visage, as he seemingly always did, and asked the ensign bluntly:

   "How do you think you did, Fähnrich?"

Von Kerckerinck zu Hülshoff, intimidated by the sternness of his CO and imbued with a sense of Qyrene humility, answered plainly:

   "I could have done much better, herr Major."

The officer inspected him from top to bottom, perhaps taking in the sheer desperation and fear that pulsed throughout the young man's body. The ensign could not help but think that this is what the pigeon must have felt like when he'd flown past it earlier.

"Welcome to the navy's officer corps, Leutnant. I shall have Bootsmann Preiß see to it that you're properly informed about your duties. You'll read your name in the Herald Monday. Congratulations on your gazettal."

The newly-gazetted lieutenant could not believe his luck. "Thank you sir." he answered, trying to give an appropriately muted response to contain his inner joy. The major gave him a nod and turned around to walk back from whence he came.

"Oh, and one more thing, lieutenant: you're being transferred. Off to one of these new 'floating aerodromes', as they call them."

 

 

OOC INFORMATION ABOUT QYR ON THE EVE OF THE GREAT NURAN WAR:

Spoiler

By the start of 1341, the Imperial Dominion of Qyr had become one of the wealthiest and most productive parts of the Kalmachian empire. Fuelled by the rapid industrialisation of the river banks along the huge Mäßl and Braack rivers, as well as a prospering domestic steel and coal industry, an ever-increasing pool of people started to move to urban centres. Whereas the "old mother country" with their monarchy and conservative politics were stuck in the past, Qyr, which was led by a coalition of social and market liberals, became a testing ground for new ideas. Academia flourished, and so did the private sector, with the government investing a considerable amount of its funds into public works to improve the nation's infrastructure and energy generation.

 

The state of the armed forces was a relatively mixed one:
ARMY
the Imperial Qyrene Army had been a volunteer army, going back as far as its founding, which made it so that its contingents were more professional and well-trained than many other states in Nur. This did, however, mean that the army was comparatively small as well, a luxury that Qyr could afford, as it deemed its navy, well-armed rural populace and succesful diplomatic protection under the Kalmachian empire to be its most effective forms of defence. It primarily fields lightly-armed, motorised infantry, supported by extensive networks of sophisticated auxiliary support units to assist in organisation, supply and combined arms coordination. The organisation of the army is as follows:

Eight permanent home guard divisions, one per Qyrene region
Three motorised infantry divisions, details TBD

NAVY
The Imperial Qyrene Navy is the shining jewel of Qyr's armed forces. Made up of the High Seas Fleet, the Imperial Navy Air Arm, the Imperial Qyrene Marine Corps, the submarine fleet and the auxiliary fleet, its organisation is:

High Seas Fleet:
- One experimental Seewolf-Class aircraft carrier HIMQS Seewolf, which is lightly-armoured and capable of carrying eighteen functional aircraft and three spares.
- Two Mockem-Class battlecruisers, the HIMQS Mockem and the HIMQS Mærzmer Land
- Five Opren-Class Light cruisers, the HIMQS Opren, HIMQS Krafforth (1334) and HIMQS Tœthûs
- 17 Corvettes (more information TBD)
- 32 Destroyers (more information TBD)

Imperial Qyrene Marine Corps: 
- 1st Marine Division (ca. 12,000 men, composed of:)
   - The King of Easthaven's Own Qyrene Maritime Infantry Regiment
   - 1st Imperial Qyrene Marine Regiment "Frômann"
   - 2nd Imperial Qyrene Marine Regiment
   - 3rd Imperial Qyrene Marine Regiment (ca. 2,000 men, composed of:)
       - 3x Marine infantry battalions of ca. 500 men (applies to all four marine regiments)
   - Imperial Qyrene Marine Artillery Regiment (ca. 1,800 men, composed of:)
       - 2x Field Artillery battalion
       - 1x Field Anti-tank battalion
       - 1x Field anti-air battalion
   - Division support elements, including:
       - 1st Qyreme Maritime Engineer Battalion
       - 1st Marine Medical Battalion
       - Armoured car reconnaissance company
       - Signals company
       - Ordnance company

Imperial Navy Air Arm:
- 38 aircraft total, more information TBD

Submarine Fleet:
- Six submarines, more information TBD

AIR FORCE
The Qyrene Air Force is a competent and crafty little beast, though it is quite small in the winter of 1941. It developed as a supporting aerial corps for the Imperial Qyrene army, but quickly obtained operational autonomy in the early 1930s. Currently, its organisation is as follows:
- Fighter Command
   - Fighter Group 1 (JG1) (120-132 aircraft)
      - I Wing (I./JG1) (1st - 3rd Sqns.) (40-44 aircraft)
      - II Wing (II./JG1) (4th - 6th Sqns.)
      - III Wing (III./JG1) (7th - 9th Sqns.)
        - 7th Sqn. (7./JG1) (12-18 aircraft)
        - 8th Sqn. (8./JG1)
        - 9th Sqn. (9./JG1)
- Bomber Command
   - Bomber Group 1 (KG1) (48-58 aircraft)
      - I Wing (I./KG1) (1st - 3rd Sqns.) (24-30 aircraft)
      - II Wing (II./KG1) (4th - 6th Sqns.)
        - 7th Sqn. (4./JG1) (6-10 aircraft)
        - 8th Sqn. (5./JG1) 
        - 9th Sqn. (6./JG1)
- Home, Transport and Training Command
- His Imperial Majesty's Most Loyal Corps of Parachute Infantry 
   - Parachute Infantry Brigade
     - Organisation TBD

 

 

[Inseberistan]

Wednesday, January 3rd, 1341

2200 Local Time

 

It is quiet. A wildcat moves through the cold and rainy tropical forests of northern Inseberistan. It walks through the shrubbery and finds a wide open stretch of dirt. Suddenly, dark green truck rushes through, scaring away the cat. No sign of civilization surrounds the truck, filled with a squad of RIGF soldiers huddled beneath the canvas-covered roof of the truck. The truck's driver, Ruslan Carmona, spoke. 

“How you boys doing back there? There's another stretch of bumpy road coming up soon.” 

“As for me, I'm alright. The occasional jolt helps keep me awake,” Archil responded, in the back of the truck. 

The soldier in the passenger seat wakes from his sleep, but holds his cap on his head. Samu, sitting between 2 other men, speaks through the silence. 

“You think Kher Aleksandr might be a bit over his head? Like, he wants us to secure the border with Fortuna in the middle of the night! And not a single person will say why.” 

“That's why captain said this is a confidential mission,” replies Ruslan. 

“But why though? What could Fortuna possibly do?” 

“Don't know. Might be because of the Kalmachians up north. That Empire of theirs is pretty large. The Kher probably thinks they might invade. Personally, I agree.” 

A harsh bright light slowly shines through the dark forest. 

“Ah. there's the camp, boys.” 

The truck brakes to a halt, spraying mud from the road. The captain, trotting through the mud, exits a rudimentary hut built near the entrance to the camp. 

“Sergeant Ruslan, where’s the rest of the platoon? I only see your squad’s truck!” 

“The truck behind us fell into a pit beside the road about 20 miles south, blocking the path of the rest of the convoy. The others insisted that I continue to report here at the camp. They should be here soon.” 

“Uh-huh, I see. Well then, welcome to the border. Here, you'll be staying overnight for several days. I'll just cut to the chase. The order is to install 2 layers of wired fencing and a 5-foot ditch in between. Food and other rations will be provided 2 times a day, and we’ve located a nearby creek for hygienic purposes.” 

Each man gives a nod as they come out from the truck. The camp is surrounded by large spotlights, with tents covering the majority of the area. Ruslan drives the truck over to a far corner of the camp, where rows of other trucks are parked. The rest of the squad are led to their tent, where they are ordered to set their equipment down, and head to the open field for a briefing. 

“When they said tents, I was expecting something smaller, you know?” said Archil. 

“I don’t know, but at least there’s enough room in here to stand,” Lucero replied. 

The squad exited the tent and walked over to the field. The captain stood there, waiting for the rest of the company to assemble. 

“Alright soldiers, listen here. I know you may be uncomfortable or disgusted by the rain, but know that this isn’t even a fraction of the discomfort I felt during the uprising back in ‘34. This company has softened since the end of it, so it’s my mission to make all of you hardened soldiers by the end of this mission, Do you understand?” 

“Yes sir!” replied the crowd.

“Good,” the captain paced back and forth by the front of the company,

“Now, if I remember correctly, I told each and every one of you tonight’s mission when you entered the camp. I won’t remind any of you, as I will hold all of you responsible. I won’t go on for too long now, so I’ll dismiss you to your own squads to begin your assignments.” 

“Yes sir!”

The crowds splits into squads and each gather their own equipment. At the edge of the camp, rows of squads begin building the defenses. Samu starts to dig the ditch alongside Lucero, while Ruslan assembles the wire fence with the help of several other men. Looking back, Ruslan sees the rest of his platoon’s trucks arrive at the entrance to the camp. 

“About time,” remarks Archil. 

Ruslan chuckles, “I wonder what captain will say to them.”

The company works through the night, but they aren’t the only ones. Along the entire northern border of Inseberistan, thousands of troops construct the same defenses. Kher Aleksandr is determined to secure Inseberistan’s borders in the event of war.

 

OOC Info on Inseberistan, early 1341

Spoiler

At the start of the year 1341, the Kherate of Inseberistan is a well-rounded nation in regard to its economy and military. The longstanding mining industry has helped Inseberistan keep its economy afloat, especially since the development of safety measures put in place to lower the hazard of the job. Years before, the cities, which were once dirty, had been cleaned as a result of a government act made to make Inseberistan's cities as beautiful as they had been in the past. Parks had beeen built, new fresh water sources had been found, and the overall redevelopment had boosted national pride in the country.

The Royal Inseberi Ground Forces had been built up during start of the reign of Kher Aleksandr in 1333. Previously, the army had been a rough band of troops who had little reason to fight due to the mountainous barrier to the west, and little perceived threats elsewhere. Kher Aleksandr initiated a draft for soldiers in 1334, which incited an small yet lethal uprising that was quickly supressed by the much larger RIGF. A considerable number of the army consisted of infantry, with a small division of armed trucks, tanks, and other vehicles.

• 1st Royal Inseberi Light Infantry Division (roughly 21,000 personnel)
• 6th Royal Inseberi Light Infantry Division (roughly 21,000 personnel)
• 8th Royal Inseberi Mechanized Infantry Division (roughly 18,000 personnel)
• 25th Royal Inseberi Motorized Infantry Division (roughly 13,000 personnel)
• 33rd Royal Inseberi Motorized Infantry Division (roughly 13,000 personnel)
• 17th Royal Inseberi Armored Division (roughly 11,000 personnel)
• Royal Inseberi Mountain Infantry Division (roughly 11,000 personnel)

The Royal Inseberi Naval Forces in 1341 was smaller than other navies in Nur, as Kher Aleksandr focused mainly on the Ground Forces. There was one 1 flagship, built in 1339, which hadn't seen activity since it's deployment. Most of the destroyers were built more recently than the other ships.

• 1 Fajrondo-Class battlecruiser, the HMIS Fajrondo
• 3 Savot-Class cruisers, the HMIS Savot, HMIS Ayinhak, and HMIS Ratlortsin
• 11 Frigates
• 14 Destroyers
• 21 Corvettes

Similar was the Royal Inseberi Air Forces, with a fleet of around 80 planes built in the early 1330s, many of which were reused from an earlier expedition into the mountains in the west. However, more modern planes were being developed in the fall of 1340, and in 1341, prototypes began to be built for testing.

• 2nd Fighter Squadron (22 aircraft)
• 11th Fighter Squadron (22 aircraft)
• 3rd Scout Squadron (20 aircraft)
• 19th Transport Squadron (16 aircraft)

[Ostronia]

The monsoon would not let up, not even for the silent pleadings of the most powerful men in the crown colony of Ostronia. The pelting rain kept the windows of the governor's palace shut tight, preventing any evacuation of the thickening blue haze of cigar smoke in the governor's study. Four men puffed on cigars there: the governor, Solveig Vinterdal, pausing only from his puffing to sip on his whiskey; General Henrik Falkstrom, commanding officer over the entire colonial garrison, lounging luxuriantly in the armchair opposite the governor; Brigadier Tor Isakson, watching the rain with dread for his already well-inundated land on the Benue river; and General Erik Vaernes, the most recent of the four to arrive in Ostronia, appreciating the painting of Vitberg Castle hanging over the mantlepiece.

"Herr Governor," Vaernes began, "might I thank you for the hospitality of your fine home and your finer cigars?"

"My pleasure, General. Yes, it is true that the emperor grants me a lovely home to reside in, but he may as well have placed it at the end of Esferos," sighed Vinterdal, who longed badly to return to proper court life in Easthaven.

Falkstrom twirled his moustache and nodded in agreement. Isakson, though Kalmachian by ancestry, had as an Ostronian settler never seen the fatherland nor particularly cared to think of the world beyond his farm. Vaernes, only two weeks removed from the politcs at staff headquarters and enticed by a new land and a new command, did not see Ostronia in the same lackluster light as the governor.

"That said, Herr Governor, I see we three are military men, and we military men are typically too dull for social calls. May I ask your purpose in inviting us here, besides enjoying your tobacco?"

"We are here to discuss threats to the security of the crown colony," Falkstrom, Vaernes' new superior, answered.

"I have had opportunity to read through the reports, sir, and besides the possibility of another Ausa revolt I see very little to trouble us now," Vaernes said.

"The troublies lie with you, Herr General," Isakson spoke, turning from the darkened window. "Not with you personally, of course, being as green as the jungle to this land you are. But with your native men."

"I don't follow, Brigadier."

"The civilized society we have built here in Ostronia," said Vinterdal, "relies upon the superiority of our Kalmachian arms and officers. We are outnumbered here, General, by a native population that would very well toss us right out of this mansion if it could. But knowing we have the machine gun, the artillery piece, the aeroplane and the discipline to resist such attempts, no one except the very foolish dares resist us."

"With respect, Herr Governor, you have no reason to be concerned about my regiment. True, the native population may outnumber Kalmachians here in Ostronia, but the Native Rifles do not outnumber the rest of the garrison. I command but thirty thousand. The rest of the garrison, Kalmachians all, totals nearly seventy thousand. You have my men two to one."

General Falkstrom pulled some papers from his breast pocket and set them on the coffee table. Vaernes recognized it immediately. After all, it bore his name and signature on the last page. It was a three-page memorandum, typed up and sent to Falkstrom's office with Vaernes' recommendations after reviewing the state of his regiment.

Isakson strode over and snatched them up. "'One," he began reading, "I recommend that the Native Rifles incorporate native NCOs. There are too few Kalmachian NCOs to enforce discipline in the ranks.'"

"Yes, those are my words. But I hardly see how a few native sergeants-"

"'Two," Isakson continued. "I recommend that the Native Rifles be serviced with at least two heavy machine guns per company, and at least four to five light machine guns. To conduct modern warfare requires a sufficient volume of suppressing and covering fire and one heavy machine gun per company plus the company's bolt-action rifles is inadequate to sufficiently pin the enemy such that he can be maneuevered around and destroyed.'"

"If there is a shortage of equipment, naturally equipment ought to be prioritized to our better-trained units-"

"'Three," Isakson shouted over Vaernes, "I recommend that the Native Rifles incorporate at least one company of field artillery to powerfully support its infantry companies on the battlefield.'"

He threw the papers back onto the table. "You are building an Ostronian army!"

"I am doing my best to bring my soldiers to the standards of the Imperial Army," Vaernes argued. "And I should not have to be ridiculed by a junior officer like this, least of all an auxiliary brigadier who knows nothing of modern warfare!"

"Have you ever even taken another man's life, Herr General?" Isakson stared him down. "Or have you been too busy in your books to learn how to really fight a war?"

"Herr General," Vaernes pleaded towards Falkstrom, "please!"

"That's enough, Brigadier," murmured Falkstrom. Isakson, after shooting one last glare at Vaernes, returned to sulking by the window.

Vaernes finally understood why this conversation was not happening in Falkstrom's office. As his commanding officer, he had every right to deny all of Vaernes' requests all on his own. But Falkstrom had had Governor Vinterdal invite Vaernes here. Falkstrom wanted Vaernes and his dangerous ideas discredited in front of the governor by military men he already trusted. That way, Vaernes would not be able to lean on the governor for help with properly training and equipping his regiment. Falkstrom had probably even given the governor the line about Kalmachian arms and officers. But removing the governor's potential support for Vaernes' scheme would not be enough. Falkstrom had brought his attack dog Isakson along to shame Vaernes, to humiliate him with a more junior officer, an auxiliary cavalryman without any staff training at all, to prevent him from ever taking up such dangerous ideas again.

Behind that white moustache and what Vaernes thought were dull, gray, senile eyes lurked a much slyer malevolence. He had not expected to have to tread as carefully here in Ostronia as he had in Easthaven.

"I see the position you gentlemen have taken," Vaernes said tactfully, "and I respect the wishes of my superior officer." He stood up, gathered the pages of the memorandum, and fed them to the flames in the fireplace. All three appreciated his gesture, though ultimately it was a hollow one to Vaernes. He of course had only burned the general's copy, and the original was still at Vaernes' headquarters.

He extinguished his half-finished cigar in the crystal ashtray. Governor Vinterdal winced at the waste.

"All I will say in my defense, gentlemen, is that the empire cannot guarantee the security of all its domains all on its own. The time may soon come that we will have to rely on the natives to defend our colony here. And woe to us if we send a third of our force into battle unprepared."

Vaernes left the governor's study with a perfectly drilled salute to his superior. Dashing out under umbrella to his car, he already knew there were at least some ways he could prepare his regiment without raising Falkstrom's ire. But what neither he nor any of them knew was that war was already on their doorstep.

---

OOC: Kalmachian Order of Battle in Ostronia, Early 1341
 

Spoiler

Ground Forces

Garrison of the Crown Colony of Ostronia (about 96,000 men) - H. Falkstrom, commanding

• 107th Rifle Division (about 12,000 men)
• 109th Rifle Division (about 12,000 men)
• 319th Rifle Division (about 12,000 men)
• 1st Cavalry Brigade (about 5,000 men)
• 5th Cavalry Brigade (about 5,000 men)
• 6th Cavalry Brigade (about 5,000 men)
• 8th Cavalry Brigade (about 5,000 men)
• 1115th Experimental Armored Brigade (about 2,000 men and 40 light tanks)
• 1st Ostronian Rifles (about 3,000 men)
• 2nd Ostronian Rifles (about 3,000 men)
• 1st Ostronian Cavalry Brigade (about 2,000 men) - T. Isakson, commanding
• Imperial Ostronian Native Rifles (about 30,000 men) - E. Vaernes, commanding

Naval Forces

Imperial Kalmachian Navy - TBD

Air Forces

• 4th Fighter Squadron (20 aircraft)
• 19th Scouting Squadron (12 aircraft)
• 101st Transport Squadron (6 aircraft)

 

[Kalmach]

 

Wednesday, 3rd of January, 1341

City of Tórshaven, State of Óstóhav

1500 Local Time

 

A rainy day is upon the 2nd Armoured Brigade of the Royal Kalmachian Army. Slowly while taking his time, a soldier with the grand responsibility of counting cars for his battalion strolls along in discomfort while doing his job. Another soldier approaches.

“Hey, how’s it going.”

“Fine. While small discrepancies have appeared, nothing major yet. The tally so far makes sense according to my estimate. I haven’t counted them all yet, after all, so can’t say for sure.”

A small pause appeared, with the other soldier appearing hesitant to speak further.

“Rumors are going around.”

“Rumors?”

“The Empire is apparently collapsing from the inside out. Multiple stationed soldiers elsewhere have reported unrest among the local populace, mostly in Ionia. The motherland as well, is no exception. Democratic extremists in Hellessia, Skaia, and Hennland have begun increasing activity and recruitment to their cause. I have a feeling we’ll see the end of our nation soon.”

“... Perhaps. Either way, that isn’t our job to worry about.”

The soldier slightly spots a person in the corner of his eye.

Slowly, as if taking a casual stroll, approaches Colonel Aleksander Vibork the two soldiers. With a determined pace, he heads towards the soldier given the task of tallying the total amount of Asir Blamhunns that his battalion have been supplied before takeoff. He bears a wet, yet straight coat slightly waving in the uncomfortable combination of wind and rain.

“Soldiers.” He speaks

“Yes sir!”

“Slacking off are we? How’s that tally going.”

“Well, sir! Almost finished.”

The Colonel thinks for a moment.

“Where are we headed tomorrow?” He asks. This is of course not out of curiosity, the Colonel just liked these small tests from time to time. Failure would lead to way too many pushups to continue comfortably holding the clipboard, so the soldier answered as correctly as he could.

“We are headed down to Ionia to make sure that no civil war within the country takes place, sir!”

“Party correct, twenty pushups.”

“Shit”, the soldier mutters under his breath, letting the half-soaked clipboard lay flat on the ground as he puts his hands on the wet asphalt. As the Colonel pops a cheeky smile, he explains.

“While it’s true that your destination was correct, the fact is that a civil war in Ionia is inevitable. That little septic tank of a colony has long been way more trouble than it’s worth, but, as the emperor says, it is necessary for complete Kalmachian domination of Nur. There are also talks of Inseberistan involvement, but who knows at this point.”

The Colonel states blankly for a second.

“Anyway, how does everything check out so far soldier?”

Finishing his final pushups, the soldier picks up the wet clipboard and dries his hands off on his green, state-issued trousers.

"Reporting, sir. While it seems we are a bit shorthanded on Tiker IIs, we have a slight surplus of Blamhunns. Rifles are a check, as well as artillery. I have yet to finish counting of the support equipment."

"Sound great so far. We continue according to schedule. You two, report to the airfield barracks at 1700 regarding briefing for tomorrow."

"Yes, sir!"

As the rain intensified, multiple groans could be heard from exhausted soldiers. But none of them had any idea of what was to come, as a long, long decade of fighting was ahead of them.

Spoiler

As the main fighting force of the conflict, the Imperial Kamachian Army was the largest army of the conflict, and while around 700k-1m men were stationed in the Northern Empire in the event of Aukeran, Apexialian or other form of intervention, most of the army was in the south, consisting of a total of around 900k men at the peak of the war.

OOC: I'm just getting this post out, specifics are TBD very soon, probably in 1-2 data tops.

 

[Fajita]

Neon Grove was a neutral, resource-rich nation that acted as a diplomatic mediator and supplier of steel and neon. It supported anti-colonial efforts covertly while maintaining trade relations with Kalmach. Neon Grove prioritized humanitarian aid, creating neutral zones for civilians, as well as hosting negotiations and covert diplomatic peace talks. Its contributions destabilized colonial powers and cemented its role as a hub for diplomacy and technological influence post-war.