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Author Topic: Banner's United  (Read 5004 times)
Danny
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« on: August 20, 2012, 11:39:56 PM »

In the beginning, there was God. The supreme being of all creation. His first holy decision was to create the people now inhabiting the southern lands of the great central continent. This decision made every being already inhabiting the earth a little annoyed, and has been since regarded as a bad move.

The Carpentarian's. A group of people considered to be the rudest and most popmous of all humans to ever walk the earth. But they are widely regarded as an annoyance above anything else. For centuries, the Carpentarian's colonized and destroyed, all in the name of... their name. The Commonwealth of Carpentaria. But soon, their golden age would come to a swift and sudden end, with a swift and sudden realization by all colonies under the Commonwealth doctrine.

"This sucks."

Simultaneously, the colonies revolted and Commonwealth rule was overthrown. This severely damaged the hub-nation, as they were no longer receiving their precious resources. An opposite effect was felt by the colonies, as their resources were no long being taken away from them. They thrived. One such nation was Sevvania, one of Carpentaria's most resource-rich colony's, a now independent nation nestled safely away in the mainland of the great eastern continent.

It took Carpentaria years to recover form their loss, hundreds even. But once they had, they began plotting. Plotting great, ambitious and ridiculous schemes on how to reclaim their once great empire. Unfortunately for them, their military strategists all agreed on the same idea:

"Invade."


***



After several weeks at sea, the Commonwealth Navy had finally arrived in Sevvanian waters. Land was now a faded ripple on the horizon. Their fleet consisted of fifty-five mortar-bombardiers, thirty-two double-deck galleons, twenty-seven frigates and a couple dozen merchant ships converted into troop carriers. An incredibly large force, keeping huddled together moving at an even more incredibly slow pace. The operation would begin as follows:

The deployment of several dozen colonial marines with an official diplomatic officer appointed by the King himself. The officer will greet the savage in charge (or at least one with fair intelligence) to negotiate their terms of surrender and/or forfeit of land. Should events turn hostile, the marines will respond immediately with deadly force, followed by the full deployment of colonial forces with deadly force, followed by the barrage of mortar fire with deadly force and precision, finally followed by the coordinated march of all deadly colonial soldiers to establish a large and deadly perimeter.

After a slow several hours, the ships were finally closing in on the shore. Several rowboats went forth, one containing Diplomat Archebold Wigglesworth. When the boats beached themselves, the soldiers immediately vacated their crafts. Twenty-eight in total, forming two lines behind Diplomat Wigglesworth.

The Diplomat, with one hand concealed in his ivory-white coat for appearance purposes, wiggled his large (almost bulging) nose and twitched the bushy mustache under it. He scoffed at the appearance of the place and set on forward, his entourage of colonial marines following close behind him. Several beach goers stepped aside out of either fear or confusion, until one, an officer, stepped forward and halted their advance.

"Ah, yes, hello there, Archebold Wigglesworth of the King's official council of relations relating to national foreign relations. Pleasure to meet you, uh, sir..." The Diplomat looked over his shoulder with a smirk, receiving several chuckles from the soldiers behind him.

"You appear to be clothed. Which is good, you haven't progressed backwards in the evolutionary chain as our brilliant scientists had predicted. And thus I can safely assume that you are curious as to why we are here. Well, to put it plainly, which I'm sure you'd appreciate, we, the enlisted of the royal navy, citizens under King Donald Benedict-Johnson Charles The Third, inhabitants of the Commonwealth of Carpentaria, have returned for what is rightfully ours."

The Diplomat coughed as he struggled to take in a breath after running his mouth. "I am, of course, speaking of this beach. For starters. And then the rest of this town. And then the rest of your nation, followed by the acquisition of all territories you have claimed since the renouncing of Commonwealth rule."

He let that sink in.

"You have several options, sir. Let us walk from this and take control of this town freely, or, we fire upon you and take this... place, by force. Do you have the authority to make such a decision?"    
« Last Edit: August 21, 2012, 12:14:39 AM by Danny » Logged
Spartan-777
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« Reply #1 on: August 25, 2012, 10:59:08 PM »

The elderly man couldn't help but break into a huge grin. He hadn't realized there would be a historical re-enactment taking place today. He clapped his hands together in amusement. "That was quite a show you put on, Captain, storming the beach like that."

He did his best to sound official, attempting to imitate the diplomat's accent, but doing a poor job of it. "Why good sir, I regret to inform you that I am in no position of power around these parts. I am but a humble fisherman. Uh, verily."

He finished with a slight bow of his head, waiting to see what they would do next.
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Danny
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« Reply #2 on: September 09, 2012, 04:58:42 PM »

"Show!?" The Diplomat scoffed, "Mockery!?" He added with a high pitch whine. "If you refuse to take this situation seriously, then I will assume you do not care what happens to this lump of dirt you call a country." The Diplomat reached over to his side and unbuckled his flintlock's pistol. Pulling it free, he aimed the pistol at the poor fisherman's head. "Ta."

The trigger pulled and the hammer fell; igniting the charge and firing a ball of iron from the barrel. The fisherman fell to his back and for those Sevvanians who saw, ran in fear as the colonial marines began running up the beach. The Diplomat returned the pistol to his holster and reached into his pocket, retrieving a scroll. He coughed to clear his throat and began reading:

"By decree of the King: all territories who once flew a Carpentaria flag are hence forth returned to the Commonwealth. None debatable. With our banners united, we shall renew our once great Empire."

As the Diplomat returned the scroll to his pocket, he smiled as the mortar ships behind him began to open fire; raining fire and steel down upon the town. "Have a pleasant day."
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« Reply #3 on: September 18, 2012, 12:19:40 AM »

There was a fusillade of thunder, and then the sky rained fire.

Homes were obliterated, their occupants completely unaware. Roads detonated into bursts of asphalt, sending vehicles careening every which way. Civilians scattered for cover.

The local police managed to coordinate themselves after several hectic minutes, piling into black and white squad cars and clutching low-caliber handguns and small arms. Some of the braver citizens joined them. Others fled the coming storm.
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« Reply #4 on: September 20, 2012, 12:28:52 PM »

Once the attack had begun, Commodore Dinckletrotter, the commanding officer of all forces in this attack, came to shore upon his horse. Literally. A special crane designed specifically for the following purpose; lowered the white steed with Dinckletrotter atop it from the deck of his command vessel into the row boat. From there he was rowed ashore where he galloped over the boats side and onto the beach. Amazingly, the horse remained (almost) perfectly calm while surrounded by cannon and musket fire. It only suffered from a sudden but minor (major to the man sitting behind it) nervous bowel movement. 

The Commodore brought the horse to the Diplomat who still stood where he killed the poor man.

"I trust the negotiation of their surrender went well?" The Commodore asked.

"Swimmingly, sir," the Diplomat replied, "So well in fact, I believe my work here is done."

"Indeed," chuckled the Commodore, "Retire to your quarters while I have some fun."

The Diplomat turned and headed for the same boat that brought the Commodore ashore. "Try not to have too much fun, the King would like to actually have some country to rule."

"I shall try to contain myself!" The horse reared up as the Commodore drew his sword and sped off into the small beach-side city.

Smoke as black as burning oil rose from all over the city. In some cases this was an accurate description; as some mortar rounds were filled with the highly combustible liquid. Commonwealth troops flooded into the city in the thousands, murdering and burning as they went. All over the city were scenes of resistance, resistance that the Commonwealth did not expect. Local law enforcement and even civilians took up arms against this threat. A noble stand indeed, and those who fought gained the respect of those Commonwealth they were fighting. However noble, any effort to stop them was in vein. The Commonwealth numbers were simply too great. Fathers and sons, even some women, were gunned down outside their homes defending their families. Even police officers that had time to organise and establish barricades could only hold out for so long. And finally, those who were simply fleeing for their lives. Men, women and children; the Commonwealth did not discriminate. If they were in range, they were a target.     

Despite taking heavy losses, the Sevvanian's were resilient. Strongholds did exist throughout the city. Strongholds that could not be breached by musket fire. However their time was running out, because word of their persistent resistance had made it back to the fleet. Artillery had been requisitioned and would soon make landfall. 



Fear was supposed to be the purpose of this attack. Sevvania was the first of many ex-Commonwealth colonies that the King had demanded return to his empire. This was to be a message of fear, broadcasted to all of those colonies. It did not matter if Sevvania did not survive this attack.
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« Reply #5 on: November 17, 2012, 01:21:05 AM »

"We hold the line here."

The police officers had parked their squad cars across Main Street, and now crouched behind their makeshift barricade in preparation of the approaching forces. The police chief stood in the middle of the formation, his stance wide, his submachine gun clutched at hip-level. He looked as if he were ready to repel the invasion on his own. He'd certainly have tried. And as he cycled the weapon, he knew that, at the very least, he'd die on his feet, surrounded by a few good men who were willing to fight tooth and nail for the chunk of dirt they called home.
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Danny
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« Reply #6 on: December 06, 2012, 03:20:50 AM »

After a poorly coordinated first attack, the Commonwealth troops failed at even denting the Police Officer's barricade. The second attack came with hastily assembled lines and insufficient numbers. More ground was made, but they only managed to create a shooting gallery for the Sevvanians. A third attack was being planned.

Commodore Dinckletrotter observed the barricade through his eyeglass. He observed the strong fortifications, weaponry and the police chief in charge. He snorted and closed the eyeglass, then inserting it into his jacket pocket.

"That outpost is a symbol, Major," the Commodore began, "A symbol of Sevvanian strength. See to it that's crushed, the Sevvanian spirit with it."

"Aye aye, me' lord," Saluted the Major who then proceeded to turn around and address his troops. All 300 of them.

The attack would be as followed:

1. Majority of troops will march up the main street
2. Upon closing in on the barricade, sharpshooters will deploy into nearby buildings
3. Meanwhile, a secondary flanking attack will occur in the smaller side streets as a distraction
4. Finally, mounted grenadiers will ride up the main street to deploy explosives

The attack will end when the police chief's head is in the care of the Commodore, as the Major so graciously delivered to his men.

And with that, the attack began.

Rows and rows of Commonwealth forces began marching down the main street. Upon entering range, the soldiers would engage in a two line firing barrage as the third moved forward. This process would repeat until the barricade was reached.
 
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