Fantasy Hunter's Moon: Ascendancy [IC] [CLOSED]

[Damian0358]

Xiaòzhou maintained his saddened expression as casual conversation between everyone continued, especially as Rajko returned with Rebecca. The revelation of Cassandra not remembering what she had done was not good. Claire left soon after, to which he only responded with a wave - her presence here was always temporary, so her departure wasn't all too sad, but it was still a shame to see. The hermit didn't even have the opportunity to introduce himself to Constantine before the conversation shifted away from Constantine himself to their next course of action.

A course of action initially speculated, and then confirmed, to involve heading through the battlefield into Tsavania towards Daristein, thanks to the arrival of Gribov.

The oni could only sigh at the news. The possibility had been raised before, but it never appealed to him - after all, it meant ending up in firing range, and that hardly appealed to him. He ended up taking a seat as Tariun arrived and witnessed the damage.

 

[Infab]

Tariun looked slowly about, taking in the scope of the damage, before letting her shocked gaze rest on Constantine. "...Did you have to almost destroy the place?!" she stammered, waving her hands about at the scattered debris. She then pointed at her broken piano. "Even my piano is broken!"

She finally sighed, shutting her eyes and soon pressing her fingers into her temples. Slowly, she began rubbing them as she spoke again. "...I'll overlook the damage. It was all necessary in order to take Royland back to the Abyss for treatment, and everything here is already insured. Everything broken and damaged will be replaced."

She soon took a breath, lowering her hands and opening her black and gold eyes to gaze upon the group. "I have important news for you all, that I learned moments ago from one of our spies." she said, "It is both good and bad news."

Rebecca looked between the others, then back to Tariun. "Okay... what is it?"

"Firstly, Taranoch is dead. Slain. My agent saw the body himself, as the Icons had it disposed of."

Rebecca's eyes went wide. The seemingly unstoppable Abyssal King was dead? Who had slain him? How did they manage such a feat? It seemed completely impossible!

"Secondly," added Tariun, "Sazak has taken the throne of Abyssal King. And Taranoch's advisor, Mazgith, is now his right hand. Sazak has also named Astraal as the new Icon of Vainglory, Kellea as 'Overlord' of the Abyss in his stead, and had the Icon of Sloth executed."

Rebecca's eyes narrowed. That explains it. Sazak betrayed his king, and somehow slew him. Typical for a snake such as the Icon of Vainglory.

"Mazgith is also, from what my agent tells me, Sazak's sister. That was something none of us knew, and explains how Sazak was able to plan things out so precisely. He had help." explained Tariun. "Azathor, from what you know of your father, did he ever hint at having any other blood relatives?"

 

[joshuadim]

Azathor was taken aback by this sudden revelation, as the Demon King's right hand had - apparently - been one of his own blood relatives all along. He already knew about her ruthlessness in getting what was demanded of her done, as Taranoch punished failure with the harshest of methods, but her being family now put it all into a new perspective. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, as Mazgith worked to bring her brother's machinations to fruition. For a moment the demon prince remained silent, unsure of how to vocalize his thoughts as he looked off into the distance for a moment.

"...his... sister?" he asked to no one in particular, "He never spoke of her. Never once mentioned anything. This is as much of a shock to me as it is to everyone else. If he has any more cards like that under his sleeve then I would not know."

 

[Breadman]

"Of course its the abyss." Constantine sighed and finished what whiskey was left in his glass.

Why did we weaponize anything? They use to drop burning oil over castle walls.

Indeed. And fling bloated corpses and cow carcasses in order to spread disease and terror." muttered Rebecca, "Creativity blooms in both the best and worst situations."

"I'm not sure those are the same thing as turning the air into poison, but I get your point." He muttered. Constantine was about to say that maybe it would be best to stay on his level. Barely able to read, but then he remembered that sort of thinking got him into just about every mess in his life and unlife, so the point would be moot. He perked up when the Tsavanian appeared and confirmed that they will be going through the battlefields of his homeland. This was going to be a pain, but it had to be done. He had no idea about the warlord, but maybe Royland did. Too late to ask him now.

When the lady of the house showed up, he instinctively tried to avoid eye contact.

"A-Adriel have mercy...Did you have to almost destroy the place?! Even my piano is broken!

"He's the one that tried to play the House of the setting sun with my head." Constantine explained himself while pointing at his head. "We tried to keep him contained to his room, but that flew out the window the moment he started burning green." He still had no idea how that was even possible or why the knight could suddenly take all of them on and even dominate during the fight like that. But that wasn't his problem now. The Abyss would take care of him. There were more important things happening now. The news that Sazak was the new king of the Abyss wasn't good. Taranoch was pure evil, but at least they could figure him out.

Azathor, from what you know of your father, did he ever hint at having any other blood relatives?

"Oh he's your daddy." Constantine looked at Azathor for a moment and it clicked. He was the one the rumors were about. The rebellious son turning against his maniac father. Half the wraiths were supporting him before they joined the rebellion. The others were not so kind in their words and opinions. Would have been nice for Lozon to inform him that the Sazak's demon seed was with them, but maybe the old man didn't know himself. Or maybe the division of opinion over him among the wraiths.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

"My thanks, Saint." Rajko's brow softened as the heated pain miraculously melted away like ice on a hot summer. He wanted to crack a pun about giving blessings to a Saint, but decided against it at the last second as his ears picked up another newcomer to the tarnished tavern-inn. From outside entered Senior Inquisitor Gribov and like the rest took the damages from apprehending Royland in strides, well, it wasn't like any of them haven't seen worse.

The inquisitor listened to his superior as he detailed the plan on how to pilfer the remaining artifacts. Upon mentioning Tsavania, the man frowned a tad. Strangely, he recalled Sebastian's question to him during their train ride. About a man who uses a Tsavanian sword, a Daristeinian rifle, et cetera et cetera. He looked back to that question and wondered about his loyalties. He wasn't born in Tsavania, and his parents, biased narrators, told him only an armful of information. Normally, he'd feel nothing at the reference, but since Gyasis' Amulet managed to invoke those reactions from him, even if the cause was magical, he has been suspicious of his own discipline.

He bent down to pick up a chip of wood that caught his eye before the door swung open and out stepped a horrified Tariun. "Mercy's not in supply." Rajko quipped to himself.

Any semblance of humour that he had in him vanished when Tariun delivered the news. He isn't certain that Taranoch being decapitated from the throne is good news. An enemy you know is better than an enemy you don't, and while these men and women among them had dealings with Sazak, they've never dealt with him on a seat of power. That changes the dynamics of engagement quite a bit, he suspects the former Vainglorious to be speeding up his timetable by now. Rush, rush, rush. People—human, demon, or monster—tend to do that. Too giddy in their hearts to slow down.

"Newer machinations." He sighed. "We might have to hurry up our plans as well, then." He commented.

 

[Dmaster]

At Claire's departure Camille gave a knowing nod as a mixture of thanks and goodbye, and soon she began to locate a chair that hadn't collapsed in the scuffle. Finding a suitable seat, she sat herself down and listened to the conversation progress quietly around her. She had spent the morning training after all, so she was somewhat fatigued and could likely use a drink of water. Things that the huntress would see to later.

When it became apparent that this Constantine was Royland's replacement, she gave him a cursory glance to try to get a read on him. Unfortunately she found it rather difficult, and for as manic as his predecessor was Camille saw these wraiths as more stable than... certain company. At this point she was not going to be picky or terribly inflammatory about their allies on this journey, as there were far grander things to worry about.

Tariun's reaction to the destroyed furniture was about what the huntress expected, though whatever slight smirk Camille put on faded once the demoness delivered the news of what transpired in the Abyss. Sazak as king? It caused her to scoff as she leaned back in her chair somewhat.

"One petulant child to rule all of hell," she murmured. "Rajko's right. We've wasted enough time already and need to get moving. I care not if we have to move through trenches and artillery, I won't let that monster have his way."

 

[Damian0358]

Xiaòzhou's saddened and tired expression swiftly changed to one of serious concern upon hearing news of Taranoch's death and Sazak's accession. Given everything that had been said about Taranoch, the Great Demon Emperor, for him to be simply slain by Sazak and his accomplice in Mazgith troubled him greatly. He looked over at Rajko and Camille in astoundment in how they reacted to the news. Are the implications of this happening of far lower importance than he had assumed, or were they just underestimating the power in use? Someone who had a personal vendetta with at least some within this group had slain the being who had for so long been viewed as the menace of the living and divine. Given their run-in with him back in the Abyss, the fact he seemed to have gotten so strong, or at least collectively strong, in the time since he last saw him should be sounding alarms of concern. Not even Azathor seemed to pay it much mind, concentrating more on the fact that he just found out he has an aunt.

The hermit was beside himself, and the others could see it on his face. He ultimately opted not to raise his concerns.

"...the sooner we are able to find the artifacts, the sooner all of this will end, and peace will be restored. We must hurry," he said simply, nodding towards Rajko.

 

[Infab]

"Newer machinations." He sighed. "We might have to hurry up our plans as well, then." He commented.

"One petulant child to rule all of hell," she murmured. "Rajko's right. We've wasted enough time already and need to get moving. I care not if we have to move through trenches and artillery, I won't let that monster have his way."

"...the sooner we are able to find the artifacts, the sooner all of this will end, and peace will be restored. We must hurry," he said simply, nodding towards Rajko.

"Then we should get moving immediately. I had intended for us to remain one more day, but with Sazak's recent actions, we'll need to pick up the pace." stated Rebecca, looking to each before returning her attention to Tariun.

Tariun nodded in response, before speaking. "We'll continue our efforts in the Abyss against the new 'Overlord', and continue to thin the loyalist forces. If I learn anything else of importance, I'll let you know in some form or fashion." she said. A creak soon drew her attention, the staircase leading up to the second floor being its origin point. And there, she noticed Cassandra. "Ah, Cassandra. I assume you've been listening in?"

"Yes." responded the pureblood, whom soon moved across the room and held out a small letter to Tariun. "Please see this gets to Lisykna. As for what you said, I agree with the others. We need to move quickly. Sazak's bringing his plans to fruition, and he needs to be stopped before he gets whatever it is he's after."

CHAPTER TWO: WAR



​

As soon as the group had gathered their things, they were on the move. Pausing only once to say their goodbyes to Jayden, whom had been staying at another inn in town. It turned out that he had managed to get a job at a tackle shop, with the urging of Claire. It seemed she had some pull with the owner there, and Jayden seemed happy with the concept.

As they traveled back towards Porthcrawl, the group learned a bit more about things that had occurred during their adventure across Grimtham Isle. The Atracan counter-attack against Tsavanian forces had been successful, pushing the Tsavanian forces back into the highlands. There, the fighting had grown in brutality, both sides fighting into a stalemate with both sides only gaining a few feet at a time with each attack and counter-attack. The Tsavanian Marines that had invaded the eastern portion of Grimtham Isle had been successfully repelled as well, and the Atracan Navy was setting up to begin shelling ports in Tsavania-held Nivarden where ships were being launched from.

Further south, the Atracan-Daristeinian frontline was continuing to fluctuate, with attacks from both sides shifting occupied territory between the two nations. An oddity in that situation was that Atraca was amassing forces near the borders of Trechstaat and Schwyz. Atracan commanders were stating that they were simple staging areas, so that forces could be pulled from both areas in the event reinforcements were needed at the front. Both Trechstaat and Schwyz were neutral nations in the war, not wanting to involve themselves with either side. Meanwhile, the situation in Escaria had remained relatively the same as before, from what Gribov knew of things. It seemed as though things had reached a stalemate there as well. Atraca seemed to be shifting some of their forces towards Escaria as well, in an effort to assist their allies. Eternis would act as the staging area for their deployment.

Days passed, and they soon arrived in Porthcrawl to find that the HMS Black Swan had returned to retrieve them. The light cruiser sat ready in port, waiting for them to board so that they could be ferried back across the strait to the city of Blackburn. They handed off the horses that they had borrowed when they had first arrived, soon boarding the military vessel and getting underway towards the mainland.

The real surprise came when they disembarked in Blackburn's port. Waiting for them was a company of Atracan riflemen, the officer leading them greeting the group in person as they stepped onto the pier where he was waiting. He was a tall, thin man, wearing a wide moustache that almost hid his mouth completely. His earthy-tan uniform looked almost as if it had been pressed and cleaned that very morning, and his officer's cap sat perched just so atop his buzzed-cut head. His blue eyes peeked out from beneath the bill of the cap, looking to each of the group with scrutiny.

"Good day, ladies and gentlemen. I assume you're the group from the Church?" he asked, looking between them before looking to Rebecca.

Rebecca nodded. "Yes, sir. And you are...?" she asked, slowly looking past the soldier towards the end of the pier where several dozen soldiers were standing.

"Major Horace Colfield. I'm here to take you to the front. You'll be assigned one of my rifle platoons as well as a royal mage once we're there. They'll be helping you break through the Tsavanian line once the operation begins."

Gribov spoke up. "Operation, Major? What operation?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Major Colfield glanced to the Inquisitor. "Command wants us to break the Tsavanian line, and push alongside you. Objective is to gain as much ground as we can, and throw the Tsavanian forces on the front into disarray. The larger battalion that we're part of is currently still en route to the front, but we were told to stop here and retrieve you."

 

[joshuadim]

Azathor remained silent for the most part at their arrival to Blackburn's Port, observing how organized and diligent Atracan forces were with regards to preparation and in facilitating a coming battle. To disseminate orders in such a short time to a mass of troops, and in turn coordinate them in an effective manner, require logistical expertise and manuevarability far beyond what he was used to seeing or employing down in the Abyss. Where everything was much more rigid and straightforward with Taranoch's - now Sazak's - forces, here there was a certain degree of autonomy allowed among soldiers to make split second decisions on the field of battle.

It was something perhaps his forces could learn from, if only relations between the mortal plane and the Abyss weren't so bloodied and horrendous in their current form. He doubted anyone would be willing to share such information with demons. At least he would be able to witness it up close with what their new mission was; advancing with a major operation in order to help them through the lines and put them on the route to the next artifact.

"Mm..." Azathor mused towards Major Colfield's words, "So we'll be right in the thick of things."

 

[Damian0358]

Xiaòzhou kept his senses up as they made their way to Blackburn, just in case they were randomly attacked by Sazak's forces. Thankfully, none of that occurred. The geopolitical elaborations were useful, even if still largely unhelpful for the hermit. Really, all he needed to know was how much they'd be dealing with the conflict that's going on at the frontline, and he'd soon have his answer when they disembarked.

As they had been assigned to a rifle platoon and a royal mage, they would be heading into direct fire as to break through and get to where they were headed. Everyone present could sense the discomfort on his face. Forget about preparing for gunfire when facing against one person as a magic user, this would be an entire front, and including more than just regular bullets. It made him question what role a royal mage would play aside from a medical role. In fact, he may as well ask.

"How will the royal mage aid us in our endeavors?"

 

[K0mori]

Sebastian appreciated the simplicity of their exit from Grimtham, quietly retreating into his books for the short voyage over the water. He kept certain thoughts away from the forefront of his mind to avoid them troubling him, such as how his homeland was faring on all fronts, given that it had been so successful during the opening weeks of the war. He wondered whether the pocket the Escarians were trapped in along their eastern coast would continue to hold. He also worried about the unease Tariun had showed when she informed them all that Taranoch was dead. Wasn't that a good thing? Camille seemed cynical about the news, but that was understandable, given what Sazak had taken from her.

Lastly, he tried not to wonder what sort of letter Cassandra had passed along to that ghastly witch she was supposedly in love with, or why she had referred to her as Lisykna, as the demons do. Even if she couldn't recall the act of summoning up black magic during their battle, days earlier, Sebastian doubted there were many other sources from whom she would learn such a thing. In summary, it was altogether an unseemly situation, but he was doing his best to ignore it in favor of getting along. He felt inclined to make some sort of reconciliatory gesture after Cassandra had not only not turned on the party, but in the heat of battle, had replaced Sebastian's Winchester. He just didn't know how to bring it up and thank her without the conversation leading to stickier subjects.

Once the ship arrived in port, Sebastian looked on the well-kept and groomed officer who was sent to greet them with a bit of skepticism. The front was anything but clean and polished, and so he wondered whether the Major had any combat experience or if he spent most of his time in the map room. Nonetheless, he nodded along to the plan, and mentally prepared himself for a return to his own day job, which somehow seemed no less intimidating, even after all he had done on Grimtham.

 

[Infab]

"Mm..." Azathor mused towards Major Colfield's words, "So we'll be right in the thick of things."

"Indeed. At the center of all the mud, blood, and death." responded the Major, glancing to Azathor before looking to Xiaòzhou as he spoke.

"How will the royal mage aid us in our endeavors?"

The Major motioned for the group to follow, choosing to walk and talk as they headed up the pier towards where the other troops were waiting for them. "The Royal Mage will provide medical assistance, and will aid you in defense against Tsavanian specialist forces. We've learned that the Tsavanians are sending groups of werebeasts to the front in order to reinforce it. Werebears and werewolves, packs of them." he stated, glancing back only once. "I fought both in the last war against Tsavania years ago. A true nightmare to deal with. One managed to slice me open across the back before my sergeant, at the time, put it down with his coach gun. Spent a week in a field hospital being treated, before getting shipped home."

As they reached the end of the pier, he spoke again. "Use the mage as you need them. Same with my men. They're there to protect you till you've made it behind enemy lines, then they'll double back and assist with clearing out the remaining Tsavanians across the front. You're on your own when that happens."

He soon moved towards a waiting horse, held in place by what was assumed to be a sergeant of the company. As the Major climbed on, he looked back to the rest of his men before calling out. "LIEUTENANT REESE!" he shouted, and it wasn't long before another soldier rushed up from amongst the company. As he arrived, Colfield motioned Reese towards the group.

"Reese, this is the group the Colonel spoke of. Familiarize yourself with them, since you and your platoon will be assigned to protect them. They must get through the Tsavanian line at all costs. Is that understood?" spoke the Major.

Reese saluted quickly. "Yes, sir." he responded, his hand dropping back to this side before spinning about to look at Rebecca and the others. "A pleasure to meet you lot. I'm Lieutenant Frank Reese, out of Roxlem down south. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to meet the other ladies and gents you'll be fighting with."

"Lead the way." said Rebecca politely, waving her hand along. Cassandra, behind her, was less focused on meeting the platoon and more mulling over the information they had been given. Werebeasts on the front. Those could foul up this whole operation they have going unless there's enough royal mages and men armed with silver. She hoped there would be, or they would certainly be in a pickle themselves as they try to break through the line.

As the group walked along, they eventually stopped as Reese motioned towards a group of around fifty men and women. "I present to you: Roxlem's Finest." he said, a wide grin appearing on his face. "Best riflemen in the company. We'll get you through the line, no sweat." The men and women of the platoon greeted Rebecca's group in their own ways, ranging from their own grins to waves to simple thumbs-up gestures and salutes. Some even held up their freshly field cleaned Lee-Enfield rifles.

Cassandra noticed a lot of the platoon had visible battle scars, ranging from minor cuts and scratches, to harsh and brutal gashes that had been stitched closed and healed over time. Some even had severe bruising that was healing rather nicely. Where the hell had they come from? Eventually, she asked. "Where did you all last serve? You look like hell." she said, her eyes darting between them.

One of the men, a black man with a nasty scar cutting from the corner of his mouth all the way to his left ear, chuckled as he adjusted his bowl-shaped helmet. "Daristeinan front. Outskirts of Fellbüren in western Arnsfeld. We gave 'em a good beating, before the Colonel said we were needed up here on the Tsavanian front." he said, his Southern Atracan accent bleeding through his words.

 

[Damian0358]

Xiaòzhou merely nodded in response to all. He seemed to be right when it came to the mages' medical role, though he struggled to imagine how efficient the defense they would provide would be in this context. Shields from attacks beyond the trenches are only truly efficient if those shields can actually withstand constant attack, and don't account for attacks within the trenches. Any opportunity to be defensive with offense, such as with elemental powers, would distract from pure defense. And that isn't to mention the potential threat of werebeasts breaking through either/or. A mage by themselves isn't able to deal with the overwhelming nature of a conflict of this scale. One would either be a nervous wreck, a tough and stubborn fighter, or the living definition of Voutean calm.

The hermit allowed the others around him to speak with the platoon, as he considered what he can do to help when they finally arrive at the front.

 

[Breadman]

When the group decided to leave town and go to the frontline, Constantine prepared himself for whatever fate would throw at him next. As they departed, he summoned his horse to ride along them. Apparently his horse, as abyssal and disturbing it may be, it was miles better than what Royland had summoned to ride. The ship was the first time he was on a boat in a long time. Last time, he was still among the living and trying to win a quick buck on the tables. Nothing like that on this one.

As they neared the battlefront, he thought about what he left in the Abyss. Battlefields full of deadly warriors and mages. Now replaces with battlefields with even more deadly warriors and mages. Trenches dug for miles around them. And the enemy had their own rows of them. Suddenly the heavy influx of new souls into the Abyss made even more sense. Mortals were killing each other at a rate unseen before.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

The inquisitor remained still and quiet during the trip to Porthcrawl, a trait embodied, shared by the rest of his comrades. He does not know their reasons for the quietude, Rajko simply couldn't muster up the will to speak so much. The doom hung in the air over them as the realization they'd be getting more and more involved into the geopolitics and warfare of their countries. It galled the inquisitor. Stinging through his body. In the end, it left him longing for the simpler times of when it was just him, his tools of the trade, and the quarry. He supposes that he couldn't do much about it after all.

Once they were greeted by the orderly-looking Major, Rajko raised an inquisitive eyebrow about where or which hole he came from, or did he tidy himself up just for their meeting. It was a banal thought at the end, it doesn't matter if the Major kept his head in the dirt or was on the frontlines, what matters is can he provide the promises here and well.

Later down, they'd meet Roxlem's Finest. The best riflemen in the company, Rajko was skeptical if you'd ask him, but he wouldn't voice it out of respect for his fellow Atracans. Eyes darting between them, he too noted the bruised, scarred, and healed-over wounds. A similarity between them and the inquisitor, not just from their recent fights but hunts long passed. Actually, if he swapped his garments for a uniform, he wouldn't look out of place in their midst.

He returned their salutes with his own.

 

[Infab]

As the small talk went on, the rest of the company prepared itself for the journey ahead to the southeast. It seemed that they would be following the border of Trechtstaat, slipping through the edges of Tsavania until they hit the border of Daristein. Their point of crossing, according to Gribov, was a pass in the mountains between Tsavania and Daristein known as Die Nordwand to the local Daristeinians. Earlier, just before the war, there was some sort of incursion by Tsavanian rebels through the pass, attacking Daristeinian soldiers. Not much came from it, as afterwards most were too focused on the war breaking out between the different nations.

Soon, whistles blew, and instructions were given. There was an armored train nearby that would be taking the company to the front. Likely to save them the long walk and tiring everyone out before they even reached the front. The troops formed their lines, and once the order was given, they marched with rhythm and purpose through the town of Blackburn towards the train station.

​

The city seemed just as it had been when Rebecca's group first left it, with sections of the city still repurposed for military use. The tents that sat in the park were gone, however. Likely having been moved closer to the front after the Atracan counter-attack proved successful. The group followed along with the company as it marched, walking in their own sort of rhythm separate from the soldiers, and soon spotted the train waiting for them at the station. Several cars long, covered in armored plating from front to back, and bearing what seemed to be two massive guns sitting among the infantry hauling cars. Railway guns were being deployed by the Atracans, it seemed, for this operation. Likely to hit any hard targets the Tsavanians may have scrambled to build along the front.

That, or obliterate any Tsavanians that decided to mass too densely in one area.

As the company arrived at the train, the cars were opened and the mass of soldiers were divided into groups for each car. The Roxlem group had to be separated into two different cars, with Rebecca and her group being assigned to the second car. Just in front of the second large railway gun. As the soldiers climbed aboard, they got a good look at the massive cannon. A few of the soldiers themselves eyeballed it too, wondering just what else would be waiting at the front for them.

Artillery was the leading cause of death so far in the war, with massive stationary guns just parked in one spot and delivering hell upon the enemy (and sometimes allies) hundreds upon hundreds of yards away. It killed indiscriminately, as compared to the newly developed machine guns in use which required mostly line of sight with the target. These massive railway cannons were simply artillery pieces mounted to train cars and pulled to wherever they were needed. They were difficult to turn, however, and often had to be built onto turntables in order to face the enemy positions. Recoil was another problem, and the different nations of the world had developed their own methods to counteract it. Allowing the cannon to slide back and forth on the car, allowing the entire car to roll, and so on.

The group climbed into the car last, and the large sliding doors were soon shut behind them. As they settled in, they soon heard the whistle of the engine ahead and the car itself gently lurch forward as they got underway. It'd be a few hours before they arrived at their destination, so they had a little time to either steel themselves for what was ahead or get a nap in. Most of the soldiers seemed to do the latter, huddling up in spots together and dozing off. Rebecca sat alone, crossing her legs and letting her sword sit across her lap. Cassandra simply stood in the corner, arms folded and looking to those around the car.

Wondering just how many of them would still be among the living when it was time to press on.

​

Atracan Highlands
Ten miles east of Tiverpool, Atraca
Atracan-Tsavanian Frontline


Before the train even arrived, they could hear the sporadic thump of several artillery guns firing, sending their payloads off towards the Tsavanian lines and the section of land between them. No-Man's Land, they've referred to it as. Barren, muddy, cratered with pooling water here and there. Water mixed with blood and residue from gas. What was left of the endless trees that used to be here were basically a few scattered limbless sticks and splintered wood. Some were on fire, small flames lapping at the shredded bark. A thin haze hung over the battlefield, greyish smoke from the hundreds of artillery shots and explosions.

It was a hellscape, pure and simple. Not too different from parts of the Land of Wrath down in the Abyss for Azathor, Constantine, Cassandra, and Xiaòzhou.

The large staging ground around where the train stopped was filled with troops moving about. Preparing for the assault on the Tsavanian line. As the group climbed from their car, they would see the result of hours of shelling from the Atracan artillery. Massive building-sized piles of spent shell casings were piled in spots around where rhe guns were sitting, the piles making a cacophony of tinks and clanks as spent shells were being tossed onto them.

Crates were also scattered about, filled with munitions and weapons to be given to troops that needed them. And it was here that Reese pulled the group aside, leading them across the staging area to a lone pile of crates and boxes.

"Command wants us to arm you lot. Now, the rifles we have to spare aren't Lee-Enfields like ours, but they're still good rifles." he said, leading Rebecca over to a stack of nearby crates. "The artillery boys here are also using these rifles, so you won't be alone. Same goes for the guards over at the field hospital just a mile or two west of us."

As he knocked the lock off a crate, hitting it with the butt of his rifle several times before it finally broke and fell off, Cassandra folded her arms and glanced to Sebastian and Rajko. "What about those with different caliber rifles? Some of us have Mausers."

Reese shrugged, as he pulled the top off the crate. "We have some captured weapons and supplies from across the fronts around here somewhere. Mausers, Mannlichers, Mosins, some Winchesters, and so on. I'll get one of the sergeants to direct you to them." he responded, tossing the hay inside the crate aside to uncover the rifles within. "Should be some shotguns here in one of these crates too, along with handguns."

Once the hay was out of the way, the group peered inside and found they were looking at a crate full of Krag-Jorgensen rifles. He drew them out one at a time, offering them to each of the group's members that would take one. Cassandra took one, examining the weapon and inspecting its side loading door. Strange thing, compared to the other more modern rifles that used stripper clips.

Reese then moved to two other crates, opening those as well and revealing several Winchester shotguns, Colt and Webley revolvers, and bandoliers for carrying ammunition. "If you have a rifle, grab a bandolier. Fits ten rounds per pocket, six pockets total. The handguns come with a belt for cartridges, so be sure to buckle up."

Rebecca eyed the crates and their contained firearms, fully considering swapping out her hand crossbow for one of the handguns. A crossbow would be too slow to use in the trenches, and wouldn't have the range outside of them. Meanwhile, Reese pulled one of his sergeants over and soon had him lead Sebastian and Rajko to another stack of weapons nearby.

These weren't in fancy crates. Instead, they had been stuffed into barrels and cloth sacks. The ammunition for them, at least, were in small crates that the weapons sat adjacent to.

 

[joshuadim]

Arriving closer to the frontline greeted Azathor with what modern warfare was in the mortal realm: a calamity of artillery and death that purged the land of its life through craters and explosions. It was like the Land of Wrath had merged with this place, as it reminded the demon prince of that particular desolate landscape. Regardless of whatever memories welled up, Azathor shrugged them off and soldiered onwards in rememberance of what Gyasis' remnants had given as advice. Move on from the past and its hurt, and focus on a better future. Azathor thus soldiered onward as he and the others were introduced to their launching point of the operation as well as the weapons that would accompany them.

He did decline, however, as he simply pulled out his pistols and shrugged: "I think these are all I need for range for the time being." he commented. He hadn't used them recently, as he was still getting acclimated to how they work, and so relied on Belias' sword still for most of his combat. He did however think about ways to apply the pistols to his combat usage. He would figure something out perhaps in the heat of combat itself, as that often served for inspiration.

 

[Breadman]

"Its like I never left." Constantine commented as he looked at the scorched fields and ruined landscape. His attention was then directed to the weapons they were shown. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at the new guns. New to him at least.

He would part ways with the old revolvers, but the bigger guns looked like they could pack the meanest punch. Before he picked one out, the old hand cannons disintegrated in his hands and he picked up a couple of Cold and Webleys. The abyssal infusion was almost instantaneous as the grips and barrels were seared with runes. He then looked at the selection of arms. Shotgun didn't look too different from what he could conjure up, but the Krag-Jorgensen looked to be more up his speed. Same as before he gripped the gun and the engravings started to dot the weapon.

If you have a rifle, grab a bandolier. Fits ten rounds per pocket, six pockets total. The handguns come with a belt for cartridges, so be sure to buckle up.

"Have supplies ready." He answered Reese's recommendation. It wasn't a bad advice, quite the contrary, but one of the bonuses to being a wraith was the infinite supply of ammo for their weapons. He just needed to think really hard about a certain bastard to conjure up the supplies or find a source of that sweet sweet energy shades release once their goals are met. Those he still had in reserves even weeks later, but it wouldn't be too long before he'd have to lean on the other source.

 

[Damian0358]

Xiaòzhou frowned at the sight from the train car, and sighed as he thought about the destruction that would've been needed to achieve all this. The meditation he had just done helped develop further ideas on what he could do to help at the front, but much depended on seeing the mage first.

When it came time to be armed, the oni shrugged. He hadn't used his armaments much, only needing some ammo, which wouldn't be hard to find. He'd leave the pickings to his peers.

 

[Infab]

"I think these are all I need for range for the time being."

"What the hell are those?" asked Reese for a moment, eyeing the pistols before his attention was drawn to towards Constantine.

"Have supplies ready."

"Good. The rest of you, grab what you need. Once you're done, I'll lead you down into the trenches. I think your assigned Royal Mage may already be down there waiting fo--" said Reese, before being cut off by another voice. Female, a bit rough sounding but bearing a strong commanding tone. Reese's head swiveled about sharply in the direction of the voice as she spoke, as did most of the group and soldiers in the vicinity.

"Its about time you showed up! I've been waiting for two days!" she called out, the voice nearing as its source waded through the crowd of soldiers. Eventually, they would emerge from the troops a few yards away, marching up with a purpose. A woman, wearing bits of plate armor similar to Rebecca, but bearing the intricate markings and seals of the Royal Mages of Atraca. What wasn't covered in armor was layered in dark cloth and robes, and a hood obscured most of the upper half of their face. Tightly gripped in one hand was a true mace, formerly used to beat plate armored knights but now used to cave in skulls in the trenches. What most of the group noticed, however, was the faint streaks of electricity which zipped around its head. Whoever was hit with that thing would get the shock of their lives.

In their other hand, a sawn-off shotgun. It seemed to be a Winchester lever-action shotgun, different from those in the crates, and it had been heavily customized. The stock had been cut down, creating a smooth and short grip, and the barrel had been cut down by several inches. It looked as though it she had been using it one-handed, simply pointing it and shooting it like one would use a pistol. A sharp spike jutted from beneath the barrel at the end of the magazine tube, and already bore signs that she had stabbed something with it. A faint red stain coated it, likely the dried remains of some poor victim's blood.

"Uhm, yeah. Ladies and gents, this is your assigned Royal Mage. I believe her na--" said Reese, waving a hand towards the approaching armored woman before she interrupted him yet again. It seemed she would rather speak for herself.

"Veronica Conway. War Mage." stated the Royal Mage, as she finally stepped up to Rebecca. The mage seemed to look the Saint over for a moment, before looking to the others of the group. "...Let's get this out of the way here and now. I'm here to support you, but I serve the Kingdom of Atraca. Not your Gods or the Church. That means I shall defend the men and women of the platoon first. You and your lot come second, regardless as to what Atracan military command says. Do you understand?"

Rebecca raised an eyebrow as the mage spoke, before nodding. "Understood, Lady Conway." she replied, "Your subordinates come first. We can protect ourselves well enough."

"Good." The Royal Mage then glanced to the more supernatural members of the group. "I'll heal those that need it. Otherwise my main focus will be offense. Cleansing the trenches of Tsavanian filth. I trust you won't get in the way of my work?" she soon said, her gaze drifting towards Gribov.

Gribov's eyes narrowed. One could see the anger building in his eyes. Tsavanian filth? They were his fellow countrymen, sent to die in a meat grinder of a war over a few miles of mud and broken sticks. Even if some of them had attacked him before, he still saw them as just ordinary people, caught up in a mess that should have never happened in the first place.

He was about to respond with something particularly hateful, but Cassandra spoke up to prevent it. "Don't worry, Conway." she stated, a faint smile inching across her face. Sarcasm dripping from her words. "You'll have no trouble with us! Please, focus on your important duties. With what we'll supposedly be encountering, you'll need to."

Reese looked between the group's members and Conway, his eyes bouncing between them, before he cleared his throat. "Let's, uh... let's head into the trenches, shall we? We need to get ready."

After cutting Cassandra a look, the Mage spun about and walked off. Heading towards the entrance to the trenches. It seemed Reese's men and women were following suit as well, so Reese motioned after them. Rebecca, after reaching over and grabbing a Colt New Army from the crate as well as a belt with ammo, followed them. Cassandra grabbed a bandolier, stuffing each pocket with ammo before putting it on and carrying her Krag at her side.

Gribov, attempting to calm himself, stared down at the mud for a few moments before looking over in Sebastian and Rajko's direction. Wondering if they were ready to go.

 

[K0mori]

Sebastian took a look at the haphazard pile of captured arms and ammunition from his homeland and set about restocking on what little he needed for the path ahead. He hoped that whatever men and women had carried this into battle had given it up when they were defeated, and had not fought to the death against the Atracans, although he suspected that the truth would not be so kind.

Nearly all of his gold- and silver-tipped ammunition was still unused, since his opponents thus far had mostly been demons who would not be affected by these things. Instead, he took some basic ammunition, and after a moment of thought, decided to leave the shotgun Cassandra had salvaged from the previous battlefield. He had largely fallen in love with the Winchester and its pump-action, and felt it would be more trustworthy in the battle ahead.

Returning to the larger crowd once he had done this, it occurred to him that he had almost missed the introduction of the Royal Mage that had been discussed earlier. As she made her prerogatives very clear, as well as her literal militant hatred of Atraca's enemies, Sebastian could only snicker when Cassandra made clear how little she regarded the mage's opinions. For one very brief moment, Sebastian wouldn't have minded seeing Cassandra slap the taste out of Veronica's mouth.

"Let's, uh... let's head into the trenches, shall we? We need to get ready."

"Jawohl, Leutnant!" Sebastian replied loudly, for no other reason than to irritate the Atracans.

 

[Damian0358]

Xiaòzhou could sense the mage approaching - they did not feel stronger than Venextos, but their strength wasn't to be underestimated. Now what mattered was how they utilized that strength, and the hermit would find that out the moment she walked in, with elaborations soon after. A tough and stubborn fighter it is, and it was clear she was going to utilize her powers more aggressively than the previously-suggested "medical assistance and defense" mentioned before. In turn, that meant he could concentrate on defense as best he could... unless the occasion requires him to use his own mysticism in battle.

Though the oni maintained a pokerface and merely nodded in response to the mage, he looked over at Gribov with a look of empathy in his eyes - after all, this sort of talk wasn't foreign to him. While Cassandra implied what some present would've wanted to say in her face, after Reese called an end to the meeting, he walked over to Gribov and patted him on the back, and gave him a soft smile and a nod. They've got his back.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Inquisitor Rajko examined the pile of munitions before him along with Sebastian. Their foes, the demons, did not drain his supply too heavily. Especially since the last battle had been a vicious melee brawl with Icons. He exhaled. He plucked a bandolier, it feels heavy in his hands except it wasn't filled. It fit tight against his chest then he fills the pockets with ammo for the Mauser.

During his restocking, the coterie was graced with the presence of Atracan's vaunted war mage, Veronica Conway. It took discipline to not show hiw underwhelmed he was. In fact, when he heard how so blasted-loyal she was to the throne and country, he had to stop his eyes from rolling out of their sockets. And yes, the irony of an inquisitor laying criticism for zealotry is not lost on him.

As for her brusque and unkind words towards Tsavanian filth, Rajko did not care. He had no love for Inquisitor Gribov, a mismatched set of politics, but he detected the anger in him and sympathies were high that moment. A curt, but acknowledging nod was sent towards his way.

"The sooner the better," Rajko commented aloud. The sooner they'd get this job done.

 

[Infab]

"Jawohl, Leutnant!"

The exclamation earned Sebastian a few looks from the Atracans around him, though mainly from those in Reese's group whom had just come from fighting the forces of Daristein on a different front. No one said anything, however, as there were more important things to focus on. They all had to prepare for the fight ahead, across the desolate battlefield before them and into the enemy trenches. They proceeded into the trenches, the group following close behind. The trenches zig-zagged back and forth, with sharp corners and small open areas where some soldiers were gathered. A literal maze, dug into the ground to protect the soldiers on both sides from gun fire and artillery. It didn't protect from the elements, however, as heavy rain could easily flood portions of the trenches. What was referred to as trench foot was growing increasingly common, especially in the colder weather of the north.

The group walked for what seemed like an eternity, following Reese's group through the trenches. Passing soldiers both alive, waiting for the coming battle, and dead, having been killed prior to their arrival in earlier battles. The dead were being carried out on medical stretchers or simply by hand, earning a few glances from fellow soldiers as well as Rebecca's group. Some had simple gunshot wounds, varying immensely in severity, while others had entire limbs and portions of their bodies missing. Artillery, or other explosive ordinance. Some had no wounds at all, likely having been killed by gas attacks or other means.

Eventually, they arrived at the forward line of trenches. These were long, wide trenches, with varying curves and corners to prevent attackers from getting into the trench and just shooting great distances in either directions to kill. Reese turned right, leading the platoon a ways down the trench before stopping at an open section. His platoon filled the trench in around him, with Veronica moving up to the front near the wall. Rebecca and her group moved to the back of the group, near the rear wall of the trench. And then, the wait began. The wait for the signal to move up and out of the trench, and across the vast wasteland that was No-Man's Land.

Reese decided to speak up during the wait, looking towards where Rebecca and the others were standing. "When the whistles sound, we climb out of the trench and go across No-Man's Land. Look for craters for cover from the machine gun and rifle fire. They'll be shooting at us with their own artillery as well, so watch yourselves. Once you reach the enemy trenches, link up with the others in the platoon, and we'll begin our push inland." he said aloud, looking between each member of the group. "Try to keep focused. We've had cases of people getting turned around and ending back up in their own trench. Your sense of direction can get thrown off pretty bad in the chaos."

Eventually, down the line, they began to hear shouting. The time to go was getting close at hand, and it seemed the leadership of each platoon and group was giving pep talks to their men. Veronica, it seemed, would be giving the talk for Reese's platoon. She walked over to one of the nearest ladders out of the trench, climbing up a step or two before turning to look down over the group.

"ALRIGHT, LADIES AND GENTS!" she started, "You and I both know why we're all here! To drive those bastards over there off our Atracan soil! Drive them back into those damned holes that they crawled out of! We've done it before, and we'll do it again!"

She looked about. "The Tsavanians have the numbers. They'll be sending their best to stop us. But they all lack one valuable thing! THEY LACK OUR ATRACAN ZEAL! We'll take everything they have to throw at us! We'll take it all, AND WE'LL POWER THROUGH! We'll show them the might of the Kingdom of Atraca! The very strength in the hearts and souls of each and every one of its citizens! WE'LL CRUSH THEIR RAG-TAG ARMY, AND END THIS WAR!"

There were cheers and call outs from the group around them, the speech seemingly doing its job. Veronica soon finished up her speech with a few last words. "For King and Country, and in the name of all we have lost, we'll win this war!" she shouted out, her voice audibly cracking as she spoke of loss. Rebecca wondered if the others heard the shift in her voice.

"Now! Steel yourselves! This will get ugly, but we'll show these bastards WHO THE HELL WE ARE!!!" was her final shout, resulting in more cheers from the crowd. And then, the group began to hear it. Thunderous explosions as artillery let off another final volley of shots into No-Man's Land towards the Tsavanian lines. Whistles began to sound throughout the trenches.

It was time to charge.

"AFFIX BAYONETS! WHEN I BLOW MY WHISTLE, YOU WILL CLIMB THE LADDERS AND CHARGE THE TSAVANIAN LINE! IF YOU GET CLEAR SHOTS ON TSAVANIAN MACHINE GUNNERS, YOU FUCKING TAKE THEM!" shouted Reese, looking to each of his men and women before drawing out his short sword-like bayonet and mounting it to the end of his rifle. Others in the platoon did the same, as did Cassandra with her Krag and Gribov with his Winchester rifle.

A few seconds later, Reese blew his whistle. War cries sounded off throughout the Atracan line, as soldiers quickly climbed out of the trench and charged off into No-Man's Land. Explosions continued to sound as well, but adding to the chaotic noise of blasts and shouting were new sounds.

Gunfire, as well as men and women dying.

 

[joshuadim]

The Tsavanian Trenches - Backlines
Just Earlier...
​

Everyone on this side of the front waited with abated breath, as they had for the past two days, for any signs of trouble. News had disseminated of an imminent offensive operation by the Atracans, but every agonizing minute that passed without any sort of action kept all the men on edge from the anxiety inducing silence. No man's land appeared in front of them, littered with corpses, bullets and craters as far as the eye can see, which further added towards the continued horror of waiting. Fortunately for Artem, he was not witness to this directly as he had been rotated for some measure of rest along with the rest of his battalion. The most recent Battle of Hill 273 had exhausted them all after a failed attempt by the Atracans to capture a high ground position, and so to have some detachment from the conflict was a welcome one.

At the far end of the trenches, where it seemed as though the devastation wrought by war was a distant image, he rested on the grasses under a tree with his service cap placed over his eyes. He was tired enough to sleep through the entire day, and more so even, as he had been doing for the most part ever since being shifted back here. Most of the others in his battalion were idling around, reading letters and books sent, or playing cards and other games. A few laughs could even be heard overshadowing the general misery of trench life. The young man's rest was suddenly interrupted as he felt the warmth of the sunlight be blocked from him. Lazily draping a hand over to his cap, his lifted it to see one of his fellows looming over him.

A young man with curly brown hair and a barely grown beard by the name of Sava, only one year Artem's junior, was already well known for being one to agitate against general discipline from the officers. His discontent had already been well known, but little could be done without damaging morale as he was well liked among his peers save for harsh words and light floggings. He was, however, also interested in spreading something else amongst his fellow soldiery as he knelt down towards Artem and started to procure a pamphlet from his pockets.

["What...? I was sleeping you asshole."] Artem said with a grumble of annoyance.

["You've been sleeping for the past three days. Don't you think it's time to join everyone else?"] Sava asked with a chuckle, before shoving the papers of his interest towards Artem. ["Look at this."]

Artem grabbed it with one hand to read the title before squinting his eyes, ["What's this?"] he asked, ["I can't read well."]

["Shit, right. Sorry. I almost forgot."] Sava replied, somewhat embarrassed he had forgotten his comrade's peasant origins. ["Well, how to describe it... it is powerful words to describe our, and millions others, current position in being fucked by the Tsar."]

Artem let out a dry laugh at this, before looking at Sava with tired eyes. ["I think just about anyone who's actually seen what's going on here can see that."]

["No I mean, this also means the workers too!"] Sava spoke with enthusiasm, ["We are all in one struggle, with burdens placed upon us unjustly."]

Artem looked from Sava down towards the pamphlet again and sighed. ["...where did you even get this from? If the Colonel or any of the officers get wind of this-"]

["Pfah, trust me. They have bigger things to worry about right now."] Sava replied with a smirk, pointing out towards the distance just as the first bombs began to drop. In the distance, a new offensive had just been launched against them which immediately stirred Artem out of his lazy stupor and shot him upwards on his feet. He could only watch, along with the others who also stood up with concern and fear, as the battle began to rage elsewhere.