A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Maxington » Wed Aug 08, 2018 3:09 am

11:02, Hammerhead Provisional Airbase, Undisclosed Location.

Before liftoff, Gunderson passed his hands through his course hair. He was curled into a seat between the helicopter's left and right door gunners. Before him, ram packed in the claustrophobic helicopter was his squad, eight young men in tactical vests over woodland camouflage fatigues. The older guys or "hounds" as they were known, was a sergeant and a corporal, brothers who had trained together, eat together and even shit together for years. They had travelled across the world, Keymon, Hutori, Luthori, Kalopia. From birth to Airborne school they've been watching each other's back, a pure example of a military brotherhood. Gunderson's squad was apart of a strike force who were about to drop in on a gathering of Medinese soldiers and their Trigunian advisers. These souls had picked a fight with the Northern Council and it was certain that they were going to be "curbstomped." This was no insert and arrest mission. Their orders were straight forward, insert, kill, peel off.

Gunderson's Squad, "Package 1", was to be inserted in the heart of the shit storm, with the intention of killing the soldiers and advisers at the heart of the village and giving chase to anyone who tries to escape into the tunnels. Whilst Gunderson's package was working, other Packages would enter to reinforce them, prevent escapes and clear the threat zone. The insert was synchronised, reconnaissance from a special ops teams inserted in the area about a week prior painted a clear image of the target zone. Anti-aircraft guns hidden on the flanks, munitions storage underneath wooden shakes, enemy infantry crawling all over and of course tunnels stretching from corner to corner of the village. The perfect shit storm. At least he could be revealed that the burden of responsibility over his squad did not weigh heavy, he had the competence of Corporal and Sergeant Wolden to back him up.

They had been baking on the tarmac for almost an hour, breathing the pungent diesel fumes from the attack helicopters that would accompany them. Everyone was hoping the deployment would be a scratch, hoping that some coalition bomber would release its payload on the compound. However, the Force Commander Major General Gard Mostad's presence meant that this one was a go. A short, grey haired man in woodland fatigues with a half empty beer in his hand, Mostad walked from helicopter to helicopter. "Don't get yourself killed, Be careful out there" he said tipping the beer to them. The revving engines of the helicopters made the earth rumble, a heavenly demonstration of the might of the Kazulian military. Gunderson watched the ground crew load rocket pods and Hellfire missiles onto the attack helicopters. Usually, the rocket pods were replaced with fuel tanks, this meant that trouble had to be expected.

It was about half an hour later when the strike team leader, Major Kjetil Sether, echoed the launch code word through the intercom. "Strike, Strike, Strike. Strike Force Alpha - Two is a go." The Armada launched, lifting off airfield and into the blue vista of sky. In a close formation they banked and flew towards the mountains. Unrolling towards a misty jungle horizon, Asabiro in mid afternoon sun was so bright it was as if the aperture on the world‘s lens was stuck one click wide. From a distance the village had an auburn hue, with its rooftops of straw and galvanise. By the time the transport helicopters had been within minutes from their landing zones, the attack helicopters were already engaging targets. The distinct pop of the 30mm auto cannon as they pounded heat signatures "jack-in-the-boxing" them. One of the crew men turned to Gunderson after spraying down some poor soul with the door mounted Gatling gun, "One minute!" he informed Gunderson.

The Gunderson's helicopter hovered near the building where the advisers were presumed to be located. Gunderson and his squad kicked their fast rope and jumped for it. Being the leader of the squad, he the was always the last in and out. Alerts from the cockpit ringed hard. "Fuck!" the co-pilot screamed over the intercom. "There a fucking bastard anti-air." The pilot yelled back so hard Gunderson lifted his earpiece from his ear. "Pop Flares and Bank right you fuck!" The helicopter let of its flares and banked dramatically to the right. "I don't fucking see him!" the co-pilot panicked. Trying to take command of the situation, the pilot shouted. "Get the fuck out!" Gunderson knew his queue. And with that he went down the rope. As he did he could hear the pilot shouting to the door gunners. "3-4-Fucking-5. Shoot the fuck!" Maybe by mistake or out of pure impatience, the fast rope crew man, detached the room when Gunderson was about one foot from the ground. "He'd be alright?" he thought to himself. "Son of a bitch!" Gunderson screamed as left the sudden change in gravity.

"Dust Off, Dust Off. Maintaining holding pattern." Sether said through the intercom, signalling for the transport helicopters to dust off from their LZ and maintain a holding pattern circling the area, providing suppression from their side mounted guns and preparing to medevac the wounded. Gunderson, having picked himself up, regrouped with his squad whom had advanced some feet ahead of him. "Let's move!" he shouted over the squad-net, pumping his fist. The success of these raids hung on the elements of surprise and speed. When an area had been filled with explosions and flashes, those in the immediate area would usually drop down or move away. All the mattered was that they entered the building with enough speed and authority to sway resistance. On point was Cpl. Wolden with his 12 gauge semiautomatic shotgun in tow. A quick pull on the trigger and the door immediately surrendered. Whilst the rest of the squad moved to clear the building where the Trigunians and Medinese commanders had been presumed to be hiding, Gunderson reached for the intercom, kneeling down as he dodged stray bullets from other package teams and Medinese soldiers. "This is Package 1, we have reached our objective. Stand by for further." Sgt. Wolden came out of the building to meet Gunderson awaiting a response. "Nothing. It's clear." "Fuck!" Gunderson murmured. "This is Package 1, the Consignees [the Trigunian and Medinese Commanders] are not hom..." Gunderson had been interrupted by the shouting of Cpl. Wolden. "I found a tunnel!" "This is Package 1, we've found a tunnel!" With that the gunfight had subsided, thus it had been presumed that the Medinese Soldiers garrisoning the village had been killed. Those who had escaped would be hunted down by another Package.

The leaders of the other Packages huddled around the tunnel entrance which had been covered by a galvanise sheet. "Do we go in?" Package 2 leader quarried. "It would be rude not to." Gunderson responded, signalling for the helicopters to return to base for ammunition and refuelling.
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Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Luis1p » Wed Sep 19, 2018 1:12 am

Lourennias Royal Family Private Jet, 50 miles off the coast of Hutori. A talk between Prince Henri Guillaume of Lourenne and King Herbert I of Lourene.

Prince Henri: So, *chuckle* what did you guys do *cough* out there?

King Herbert: "Haha, nothing to worry about. We spoke, we strolled through the gardens, we talked about our lives. Our futures, and that's about it really.

Prince Henri: "Sure you were brother. I bet you 400 francs you were all over her!

King Herbert: "I wasn't!!! Although I must admit she is a beauty.

Prince Henri: Why don't you marry her if you're so obsessed?

King Herbert: "I relally do want to, but I feel like it is too early. We have just met. Plus will father approve of it?

Prince Henri: "Father is close to his coffin! You must marry her. She is very special. Plus Imagine Hutori and Lourenne united because of us?! It'd be exactly what father has wanted for so long!"

King Herbert: "I do want to. I've given her my contact information. Maybe she will call me, or even visit me I do not know.

Prince Henri: "Ahhh very interesting brother. Get married in the spring eh? *wink* "

King Herbert: "Oh shut it already. *laughing* once we get back to Lourenne, I will go back to Hutori to see her........."


King Herbert: " and what about you? Did you find somebody to marry?"

Prince Henri: "Actually... I've been talking to Ruth."

King Herbert:"Ruth who?"

Prince Henri: "Rongstad"


Prince Henri: Yes, uhm... I will also see her when we return home"

King Herbert:"Haha, oh be quiet and go to sleep already brother. We'll be in Dorvik soon. I don't think my mind is ready for it"

Prince Henri: "Right brother, goodnight bert"

King Herbert:"Goodnight brother. Until the morning"

Herbert and Henri went to sleep after a busy day, both of them slept with the thought of soon being wed with their lovers.
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Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby thefalloutfan101 » Tue Sep 25, 2018 4:29 am

Floor 49, Feinberg Building, Moorstown, Westbrook, Baltusia
10:30 AM, September 8th, 4459

Dave Schuster exited his car after pulling into the underground parking lot of the Feinberg Building, which amongst other things, housed his co-operative firm with Arkady Bekowsky. Carrying with him a cup of coffee, it did little to settle his current mood. Strolling to the elevator he signaled it to open, checking his watch. After a few moments and a couple sips from the styrofoam cup the silver doors silently opened. He walked in and selected 49 on the colossal list of lit buttons and let out a long exhale, clenching his left fist as his thoughts swirled around his mind.

Today was not the best of days.

The silver doors executed their silent opening once more, and he was greeted to the sound of abstract conversations, telephone calls, and the distant flutter of paper. Of course, he was much too flustered to care for this. As he barreled towards Bekowsky's office, his face firm and still upset, he passed by the floor's receptionist, Pamela. She managed to stop him, if albeit for a few short seconds. "Good morning Mr. Schuster," she stated as friendly as she could muster. "Several calls have come through to your office. Something wrong?" He was merely two steps past her when he came back. "Saying that something's wrong would be an understatement. I need to speak to Arkady."

"He seemed pretty busy, said that he'd be expecting several calls. He's also got a meeting with the Homeowners Association at 3:15." At that moment, Dave leaned in towards Pamela, as close as he could get to her. "Pamela, I'm sorry for saying this, but I don't give a shit. I need to see him now, whether he's expecting a phone call, meeting, or whatever. I've been wanting to speak to Arkady since the moment I got up on this godforsaken morning."

Visibly seeing the distress on his face, she seemingly understood, and phoned Arkady. He continued his stroll towards Arkady's office, finishing his coffee and throwing it away. He half-listened to what she was saying as he walked further and further away. "Mr. Bekowsky, Mr. Schuster is here to see you. He stated that it was urgent..." Her voice trailed off now as he walked past dozens of cubicles, with people scrutinizing their computers, answering phones, or fluttering through stacks of paper. His footsteps were quick and heavy, now both of his hands having constricted into a fist. He approached the door of Bekowsky's office and flung it open.

Bekowsky shot up from gazing at his computer. Despite expecting him, he was still surprised. "Dave, you surprised me there. You look upset, and Pamela told me it was urgent. What would you like to talk about?"

"Arkady, one thing I absolutely cannot tolerate is a liar. Can't stand them." Bekowsky seemed visibly confused. "I... I'm not sure what you're referring to." Dave walked up further to his desk, his breathing heavy. "Don't bullshit me, Arkady. I've seen the numbers. Our firm is going down the shitter. The least you could do over these past few months is be honest with me." "I...I—" Bekowsky couldn't muster up a response.

"That recession in your home country? That's really fucking us right now, and you damn well know it. We were already seeing a dip beforehand, and now it's gotten even worse. Houses serviced over there are now at risk of losing their insurance along with our representation. I mean come on, we service nearly half a million people here in my country. Now those people are at risk because we're seeing loss! Property value is sinking faster than a rock—If you don't do something, then I will."

Bekowsky went from confused to understanding. "Alright, perhaps I may have distorted some things in the past. We have indeed been seeing slight drops in some property values. Since around December of last year, in fact. And yes, the recession isn't looking too good right now in my home country. But I'm not sure what to do."

"Oh, for God's sake, Arkady. Listen, we've been put against the wall here. And honestly, I can only think of one option to stop losses. You may not like it, but if we do it now, then we may get away easier." Bekowsky shifted himself in his seat, folding his hands. "What do you have in mind, Dave? Frankly, anything will be better, no matter how controversial."

Dave let out a long sigh, speaking flatly: "We file for bankruptcy."

"That's the one thing that might be too controversial." Dave walked right up to Bekowsky's desk, propping himself up on it. "I knew you might say that. But it's our only alternative. It's either that or we sit here and continue to get fucked by lowering property value and feeling the fallout from Valruzia's recession." He gently pushed himself off of his business partner's desk. Arkady mulled the idea over, and his face wrinkled with that of dejection and understanding. "I suppose I'll have to cancel that meeting with the Homeowner's Association." He idly wrote some things on a sticky note, and Dave walked towards the door. Before leaving, he glanced once more at Arkady before leaving, and said:

"Rest assured, if you make the right decision, we'll come out of this better than if we continue."

Dave Schuster then opened the door and left. Bekowsky got out of his chair, walked across his office, towards the window. He glanced at skyline with his hands behind his back. A mix of grey, black, and light tan buildings pierced the sky. After a few moments standing in silence, taking in his thoughts, he strode back to his desk.
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Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Auditorii » Mon Nov 26, 2018 12:44 am

Wolf's Den, Wolfsheim, Grand Duchy of Ostland

Dramatis personæ - Political
1. Florian, Grand Duke of Ostland and Supreme Commander-in-Chief of the Ostland Landwehr
2. Claus Wilhelm von Pölzl, State Chancellor of the Grand Duchy of Ostland
3. Heinz Stassen, President of the Eastern Land Council
4. Siegmund Stuhr, Minister of Foreign Affairs
5. Elias Hettich, Secretary of the Security and Military Leadership Council

Dramatis personæ - Military, police and security
1. Generaloberst Karlheinz von Eisenhaus-Pilc, Minister of Defense and Chief of the Landwehr General Staff
2. Major Aayden Sydel von Völknitz-Siezenhaus, Chief of the Political Intelligence Bureau
3. Generaloberst der Polizei Konstantin Hersh, Chief of the State Police
4. General Alfons Rohmer, Commander of the Border Police
10. Obergruppenführer Claus Eisen, Supreme Security Service and Intelligence Service Leader "Ostland"
11. Standartenführer Tristan Kornblum, Commander of 1st Volunteer Security Regiment "Felix Bellegarde" (VDKV Security Service)

Grand Duke Florian paced around the room, his hands placed behind his back, he wore his traditional Supreme Commander outfit, fitting for the moment. "We cannot lose our god damned majority in the north." Florian paused and turned the the room filled with officials. State Chancellor Claus Wilhelm von Pölzl stood closest to the Grand Duke who was visibly angry, his arms folded, his right hand stroking his chin. "We've worked for decades, my grandfather finally caused the peace. Ostland has been prosperous. We cannot for fucks sake lose this!" Florian slammed his fists down on his large, dark colored wooden desk. While it had appeared that the Hulstrians, Dundorfians and Kunihito had come to terms with each other, it was only partially true. The first Chief Minister of the Touryou State had laid down the foundation for a Hulstrian/Dundorfian north with a Kunihito south that was ever loyal to their Grand Duke and Prince; or else. While there were a dozen of the most powerful men in Ostland in the room, none of them really spoke as the Grand Duke ranted and raved. Foreign Minister Siegmund Stuhr was the first to take the chance. "Your Royal Highness..." Stuhr started to speak but the Grand Duke wheeled on him. "Don't you dare speak Stuhr! I know that this is the start of something--what precisely--I have no idea!" The Grand Duke was enraged, that much was clear. There was a very direct threat to the stability and ethnic peace in Ostland.

The Grand Duke turned to the State Chancellor who shot him a look and shook his head ever so slightly. The Grand Duke sighed heavily and sat back in his seat, he picked up his glass and sipped his whiskey. "I'm sorry Siegmund. This is a crisis that has the potential to put us as either enemies or heroes. If a refugee crisis breaks out...we've got a lot of land to cover, we've got a lot of things to be concerned about. A notable settlement of Kunihito in the north will for sure be the end of us. We've incentivized moving to the south, we've poured endless amounts of marks into building the Touryou State. What the hell else are we supposed to do for these people?" The Grand Dukes tone became calmer, as if his choler was washed away. Generaloberst Karlheinz von Eisenhaus-Pilc stepped forward, his presence was dominating in the room. "Theres a few possible outcomes here. One, we have a massive influx of refugees, we accept them and send them down south. Two, we have a massive influx of refugees and we turn them back. Three, well...we treat them as invaders. That's the more radical option." Karlheinz nodded subtly at the end; the last outcome was not an option and he would defy the Grand Duke even if it meant his life. Ostland would not go back to shooting innocents, no, that was a part of their past and it would not return.

"If I may..." A man stepped forward, his uniform of the Security Service, the paramilitary branch of the Volksdundorfische Cultural Association that had given much in the way of financial support as well as providing access to Ostland for Volksdundorfische throughout the world. The Grand Duke perked up and looked at the man. "Go ahead Claus." The Grand Duke addressed most of the men in the room by their first name, many of them had been close friends and advisors as he was being groomed for the role of Grand Duke and had served since he was Crown Prince. "We have a friendly regime in Dorvik, perhaps they would be supportive of our efforts if it came to conflict. I cannot speak for them directly but we must understand that if push comes to shove...it may mean war for Ostland to remove regimes that may compromise our power." Obergruppenführer Claus Eisen, the top Security Service man in Ostland had his hands folded behind his back and he watched around the room as many nodded with him. "I hold no glory for war or sending our brave men and women to die but we must not ignore the fact that may need to cause regime change outside of Ostland to protect Ostland." The Grand Duke again perked up. The era of war might be back upon Dovani in the near future, but of that no one was sure.
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Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Auditorii » Sun Jan 27, 2019 8:48 am

Dramatis personæ
Major General Safar Baig - Ba'athist Republican Guard officer in charge of al-Kasraj’s security and military forces

Major General Safar Baig finished his cigarette and tossed it down on the ground, his right boot quickly dashed it on the sand covered floor of the house he stood in. Baig was charged with all military, security and police forces in the capital of al-Kasraj and was more importantly charged with the establishment of a "Green Zone" in the Government District of the city. The Ba'athist rise was swift and sudden, but had the support of the people. The "Workers Republic" would cease to exist and soon the Majatran Republic would rise up, bringing a much needed Majatran power to Majatra once again. While he did not necessarily oppose countries like Deltaria and Vanuku, he disliked that the majority of the continent that his people once owned had been...taken away. Kafuristan would rise, he was sure of it.

Baig looked over the faces of his men, many of them had served within the Kafuri Army or with private military contractors, but they were loyal Kafuri's and thats what mattered. The Republican Guard had better access to equipment and thus each of these men wore a ballistics vest, a ballistics helmet and carried a modernized version of the Trigunian AK-47. Baig himself wore a ballistics vest and helmet, only equipped with a sidearm he was personally leading a raid on a known radical Israist Ahmadi named Haamid al-Akhter, the Republican Guard Security Directorate had compiled a massive dossier on him. He personally wanted to blow up the dias of the President at the President's swearing in ceremony. Idiot, he posted his entire plans on some Ahmadist website and the Republican Guard Security Directorate picked it up rather swiftly.

"No mistakes." Baig stated to another Republican Guard soldier in a slightly hushed tone. The soldier nodded and tapped the man in front of him on the shoulder. Within seconds the soldiers broke from small house in al-Kasraj, sprinted across the street under the cover of night and were pressed up against another house, waiting. Baig nodded and with a metal clink and booming flash of light, the soldiers disappeared into the house across the street. Baig sprinted across the street to bring up the rear of the 10 man squad that had entered into the house. Baig could hear the silenced shots of their rifles. It was music to his ears. It was not before long that one of the soldiers had dragged a bloodied man before Baig, his hands zip tied behind his back.

Baig gripped his pistols grip and smiled. "I will personally blow up the dias of that foreign infidel al-Sadhi. His corpse will please Akim!" Baig stated aloud. Baig chuckled. "Bold words." Baig slyly stated as the man began to shout and was quickly interrupted as the wind left his chest with a swift kick to the stomach. "You radicals are all the same." Baig shook his head. As the man started to recover he looked up, the last thing he would see in the moonlight of the al-Kasraj night was the Major General's handgun a foot away from his face and then everything went black, permanently.
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Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Auditorii » Mon Jan 28, 2019 2:53 am

Dramatis personæ
Sergeant Miqdaam al-Salame - Sergeant, Republican Guard
Corporal Aqeel al-Mansoor - Corporal, Republican Guard
Petty Officer, 2nd Class Nizaar al-Sultan - 1st Marine Regiment, Kafuri Marines

Somewhere in the Jablemmanet Oil Fields
February, 4522

Sergeant al-Salame gripped the rifle and peered down the holographic sight that his right eye looked into. "Two." Salame kept his eyes forward. Behind him Corporal Aqeel al-Mansoor motioned with his hand, signaling to the rest of the squad that there were two enemies up ahead. "Go!" Salame called out. On his order the 8 other Republican Guard soldiers with him broke cover and opened fire on the catwalk where the two Israist militiamen stood, temporarily. The assault was vicious and carried out with precision. The simultaneous assaults by several other squads had overwhelmed the enemy and a panic began to ensue. The fighting at Jablemmanet had raged for several days, it was a strategic oil field located in northern Jerze'har. Jablemmanet was also the site of a massive amount of storage facilities, with the capture of Jablemmanet, the Kafuri government would be able to start transporting oil from other oilfields and shipping it to the port of Zerin, the largest coastal settlement and Governorate capital of Jerze'har. Jablemmanet's battle had been ongoing for several days and it felt like it would never end, at least in Salame's eyes. He rushed quickly alongside his squad and pressed up against a concrete wall, he could hear yelling of Israist militiamen trying to muster a counter-attack. "Quickly. Breach!" Salame yelled as he tossed his last remaining flashbang in between the two concrete buildings just underneath the catwalk where they'd neutralized two enemies.

The flashbang went off and with him at the point position, he fired three steady shots into the chest of a dazed militiaman, he fired several more times before he conducted a combat reload, dropping his magazine to the floor and retrieving another one from his new ballistics vest. Salame was still getting use to it, they had just been issued them in March, a month later and it had saved his life once already. He hoped that it was the only time it needed to save his life but he was thankful for it. The Nasir Mechanized Brigade was the last of the 1st Republican Guard Corps to be equipped with the ballistics vests, they were playing police in al-Kasraj following the successful palace coup that they had carried out. The Nasir Mechanized Brigade was one of the later Republican Guard forces to be mobilized and many of the soldiers had only been in combat service for the month of March and were activated and re-trained in January following the successful Ba'athist capture of power. Salame found himself pressed against a door and motioned for Corporal Mansoor to take the other concrete building across from him. "5 and 5. Take it!" Salame stated in a hushed but commanding tone. A soldier rounded from behind Salame and with a swift kick, broke open the door. Salame and four other soldiers burst into the room, each of their rifles aimed forward but in a different direction. Salame hit one, two, three, a fourth and a fifth on his entrance and as he aimed for a soldier coming down the stairs he dropped. Salame motioned for his men to spread out.

"Cmon Miqdaam! You cannot possibly think we'd let you capture their commander!" A voice rang out from above the stairs. Salame chuckled, releasing his weapon and allowing it sling over his chest. He embraced his close friend and former Kafuri Naval Academy Cadet Nizaar al-Sultan who was a Petty Officer, 2nd Class in the Kafuri Marines. "I figured that I had to share some for you guys." Salame released Nizaar and smiled. "Its good to see you." Salame surveyed the dead as his men scavenged for intelligence or spoils of war. Nizaar chuckled. "Don't worry, your fellow guardsmen captured the commander. Nizaar motioned for Salame to follow him. Salame and Nizaar walked up the stairs to an office-style room. The windows were blown out, paper littered the ground, a warm breeze blew through the nighttime. "Luckily this is over." Nizaar leaned against a desk, peering out into the night and watching dozens of soldiers flooding into the main complex of Jablemmanet. "You think they'll award them medals?" Nizaar motioned to the obvious fresh looking Kafuri Majatran Army troops unloading off of trucks and cars into the complex. "At least they are working to become an effective fighting force. My brigade is still pretty banged up and young." Salame leaned up against the same desk that Nizaar had made himself comfortable on. Nizaar nodded. "Mine too. We lost a 17 year old earlier." Nizaar sighed heavily. "Wow...its like they dont even care. They claim that they do this for religion and Akim but...violence against each other?" Salame sounded notably distraught. "Akim doesn't guide them. He guides us. They are the lost ones." Nizaars words trailed off.

Both Nizaar and Salame had their solemn moment broken when a Republican Guard soldier rushed up the stairs and informed them that the commanding officer of the operation had requested them both. Nizaar and Salame shared a look and brief nod and then made their way to the Colonel.
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