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Before we begin, a couple of notes:
- This is not an alternate reality roleplay. Everything that happens will be in the annals' of Svipish history.
- I have been working on this project for a significant amount of time, more than I would like to admit. Because this roleplay is so precious to me, I ask that everyone who participates not only obeys the rules, but also not do anything outlandish: After all, this is real-time history.
- While I won't be stringent about how I want every single interaction or engagement, I'd like the roleplay to follow this general framework:
      = Takeover of Svipjoth (and possible death of Fylkir Pjotur, I am undecided) -> Kingdom-by-Kingdom invasion (think Skyrim civil war) -> Liberation of Stahl Industries HQ in Haithabu -> Freeing of Rognhildr (previously kidnapped) and death of Lukas Grankjellsson -> Coronation of Beinlaus (if Pjotur dies).
- Stigya will be a significant player in this roleplay for story-telling purposes.
- I expect this roleplay to not be short. I want this to last for a while, to have longevity.

Thank you so much in advance for participating in this roleplay.

"Enlighten me, is everything prepared?"

Raising his head from a clipboard overstuffed with reports and checklists, a middle aged-to-elderly man calmly raised his head in response to the booming voice. He turned his sight towards the younger man hunched over a cluttered desk; both his fashion and accent were natively Stigyan, but it was clear that he was of Svipish lineage.

"Yes, Lukas. Both the MKIIIs and MKIVs are at sufficient stock, as well as able bodied mercenaries in both MK-130s and MK-280s. And, of course, we have our assured plan of gaining both required aerial and naval machinery."

"And the weaponry?"

"At the pleasure of Ryder, all of our demands have been satisfied: we have enough sabres, odin revolvers, and rail rifles to arm every basic infantryman and enough accelerator rifles, stovas, and arc cannons for our specialists."

Lukas straightened out his posture, approaching the other man. He patted his shoulder in satisfaction of the report, granting him a small smirk, before reaching to his side and retrieving his personal knife. He played with the knife momentarily, twirling it around his fingers with graceful form. Finishing is small performance, he flips the knife to hold its blade, offering the hilt to the other man,

"One last thing before we depart; make sure this blade is engraved with the phrase. You know the one," Lukas turns away and walks back to the desk, hunching over his hastily-organized maps and documents once more before continuing, "I want to make sure that whoever finds my miserable uncle's corpse knows who his killer is."

"...Yes, sir, of course. We are here to deliver military technologies to the Fylkiran Armed Forces, as donated by the Emperor himself."

Lukas spoke coldly into the radio microphone, ignoring the rushing footsteps and the hustled preparation of his soldiers as he assured the Haithabu port master of their good intention. His eyes glared towards the towering Stahl Industries headquarters, it alone making his eyebrows furrow and his knuckles white in angered passion. He nearly forgot about the port master on the line, nonchalantly flipping through papers and speaking with his coworkers, until the port master gave Lukas and his armada a hearty welcome. He thanked the port master, his twisted grimace betraying his soft tone, as he lowered the microphone from his lips. He smirked, knowing that the port master's death was imminent by way of one of many insider threats.

Within mere hours, the entire city of Haithabu was subdued, its entire military presence decimated and all forms of communication to greater Svipjoth severed. The Stahl Industries Headquarters was in a state no better than its surroundings: frightened workers restrained amongst the fresh corpses of security officers and breached armories being emptied of its deadly contents.

The regional corporate executive sat at his desk, the blaring alarms and distant screams of victims not affecting his frozen state. He watched with an empty gaze as the door to his office inevitably failed him, breaking down as Lukas and his entourage entered. He stood up slowly, facing Lukas with a cold stature.

"Who in the hell are you?" He muttered, the venom in his words seeping from his collected tone.

"Don't you DARE speak to-" A soldier screamed, but was quickly silenced by Lukas' firm hand gripping his shoulder. Giving an annoyed glance to the baffled soldier, he then moved towards the executive, standing erectly across the desk from him.

"I am Lukas Grankjellsson, son of Grankjell Arngrimsson, and I am here to reclaim my rightful title to Fylkir of Svipjoth." Finishing with an almost condescending ego, Lukas gripped his pistol and released it from its holster, shooting the executive in the head with neither delay or remorse. He turned towards his men,

"Secure the site and get the surviving workers to begin producing again. Collect anything you can and get ready to execute the rest of our plan."

Before we begin, a couple of notes:
- This is not an alternate reality roleplay. Everything that happens will be in the annals' of Svipish history.
- I have been working on this project for a significant amount of time, more than I would like to admit. Because this roleplay is so precious to me, I ask that everyone who participates not only obeys the rules, but also not do anything outlandish: After all, this is real-time history.
- While I won't be stringent about how I want every single interaction or engagement, I'd like the roleplay to follow this general framework:
      = Takeover of Svipjoth (and possible death of Fylkir Pjotur, I am undecided) -> Kingdom-by-Kingdom invasion (think Skyrim civil war) -> Liberation of Stahl Industries HQ in Haithabu -> Freeing of Rognhildr (previously kidnapped) and death of Lukas Grankjellsson -> Coronation of Beinlaus (if Pjotur dies).
- Stigya will be a significant player in this roleplay for story-telling purposes.
- I expect this roleplay to not be short. I want this to last for a while, to have longevity.

Thank you so much in advance for participating in this roleplay.

"Enlighten me, is everything prepared?"

Raising his head from a clipboard overstuffed with reports and checklists, a middle aged-to-elderly man calmly raised his head in response to the booming voice. He turned his sight towards the younger man hunched over a cluttered desk; both his fashion and accent were natively Stigyan, but it was clear that he was of Svipish lineage.

"Yes, Lukas. Both the MKIIIs and MKIVs are at sufficient stock, as well as able bodied mercenaries in both MK-130s and MK-280s. And, of course, we have our assured plan of gaining both required aerial and naval machinery."

"And the weaponry?"

"At the pleasure of Ryder, all of our demands have been satisfied: we have enough sabres, odin revolvers, and rail rifles to arm every basic infantryman and enough accelerator rifles, stovas, and arc cannons for our specialists."

Lukas straightened out his posture, approaching the other man. He patted his shoulder in satisfaction of the report, granting him a small smirk, before reaching to his side and retrieving his personal knife. He played with the knife momentarily, twirling it around his fingers with graceful form. Finishing is small performance, he flips the knife to hold its blade, offering the hilt to the other man,

"One last thing before we depart; make sure this blade is engraved with the phrase. You know the one," Lukas turns away and walks back to the desk, hunching over his hastily-organized maps and documents once more before continuing, "I want to make sure that whoever finds my miserable uncle's corpse knows who his killer is."

"...Yes, sir, of course. We are here to deliver military technologies to the Fylkiran Armed Forces, as donated by the Emperor himself."

Lukas spoke coldly into the radio microphone, ignoring the rushing footsteps and the hustled preparation of his soldiers as he assured the Haithabu port master of their good intention. His eyes glared towards the towering Stahl Industries headquarters, it alone making his eyebrows furrow and his knuckles white in angered passion. He nearly forgot about the port master on the line, nonchalantly flipping through papers and speaking with his coworkers, until the port master gave Lukas and his armada a hearty welcome. He thanked the port master, his twisted grimace betraying his soft tone, as he lowered the microphone from his lips. He smirked, knowing that the port master's death was imminent by way of one of many insider threats.

Within mere hours, the entire city of Haithabu was subdued, its entire military presence decimated and all forms of communication to greater Svipjoth severed. The Stahl Industries Headquarters was in a state no better than its surroundings: frightened workers restrained amongst the fresh corpses of security officers and breached armories being emptied of its deadly contents.

The regional corporate executive sat at his desk, the blaring alarms and distant screams of victims not affecting his frozen state. He watched with an empty gaze as the door to his office inevitably failed him, breaking down as Lukas and his entourage entered. He stood up slowly, facing Lukas with a cold stature.

"Who in the hell are you?" He muttered, the venom in his words seeping from his collected tone.

"Don't you DARE speak to-" A soldier screamed, but was quickly silenced by Lukas' firm hand gripping his shoulder. Giving an annoyed glance to the baffled soldier, he then moved towards the executive, standing erectly across the desk from him.

"I am Lukas Grankjellsson, son of Grankjell Arngrimsson, and I am here to reclaim my rightful title to Fylkir of Svipjoth." Finishing with an almost condescending ego, Lukas gripped his pistol and released it from its holster, shooting the executive in the head with neither delay or remorse. He turned towards his men,

"Secure the site and get the surviving workers to begin producing again. Collect anything you can and get ready to execute the rest of our plan."

July 8, 2022
Solitas, Province of Valyria, The Stigyan Triumvirate.

It was a sunny morning in the capitol city of the Triumvirate, and with the summer holiday the children of the Citadel were making the most of the warm (by their standards) day. They were in the large greenhouse that contained the Amory silver rose garden playing tag. The Svipish Princess Rognhildr was being chased by her fiancé Prince Cypress Amory.

She was faster than the boy, but as she started to outrun him Cypress started to cough uncontrollably. “Oh no, are you okay?” Rognhildr said as she immediately stopped fleeing and ran over to him. Both Cypress and his older twin Cíelle were born with pretty serious asthma.

She approached Cypress and asked “Do you need your inhaler?” Only for the boy to lean forward and wrap his arms around her.

“Tag!” he wheezed before pulling out his inhaler, making Rognhildr roll her eyes internally.

“Yo are the worst!” She said, feigning annoyance as this trick worked every single time on her. She was a gentle and kind soul, completely unaware what was already starting to  happen to her homeland.

_-_-_-_-_-

Deep in the Citadel itself, Emperor Roxas Amory was having a much less pleasant day. Yesterday evening three transport ships left the port on the western coast of the Triumvirate, en route to the Svipish capitol of Uppsala. Those three ships were loaded with high end Stahl Industries weapons and Triumvirate combat mechs. While all Triumvirate ships have GPS tracking, those trackers were seen going off course, and aerial recon found the trackers hours later…ripped out of the ships controls and tossed into a life boat.

“I called Pjotur first thing this morning, he can confirm the ships never arrived in Uppsala. They could be anywhere in the Skjlos Gulf by now.” Chief Executor Viktor Amory said to Roxas as he shuffled through documents pertaining to she ships.

‘Well what about Director Orlov?” Roxas asked. “Call him up in Haithabu and get our people over there on it.”

Viktor and another aide looked at him nervously. ‘Your Grace…we did. We tried calling, email, and video call. And not just him, but the cities mayor too. It seems the entire city isn’t picking up.”

Roxas’ eye narrowed. “Send another high altitude drone over that way, I want to know what the Grey is going on immediately.”

_-_-_-_-_-

Chase Malachite, the psychotic first officer of the infamous team KMSN (Crimson) and Claire’s older sister, was in the Obsidian legion headquarters sparring with team member Nellis, keeping their skills sharp as it had been several months since their last assignment during the Ursian Civil War. The match was suddenly interrupted when her Scroll started to beep.

“Hold up Nell.” She said as she went over to it and answered the call. “Oh, hello your Grace.” She said, listening to whatever Roxas was telling her. “Of course your Grace. Team KMSN is ready for anything.” She put away her scroll with a wicked smile, and Nellis watched in horror as she started to hyperventilate until yelling “LETS F***ING GOOOOOOOO! Team KMSN is back in business! Nell, can you go tell the quartermaster to get my auto pistols ready? it’s been way too long since I’ve shot someone.”

_-_-_-_-_-

Across the city in a penthouse apartment downtown Chase’s younger sister and royal Praetorian guard Claire got out of the shower and got dressed before going into her kitchen to find breakfast already made. “Eggs with melted cheddar, maple bacon, and Cranberry juice. Just how you like it.” Said Koza Radek, the team leader of KMSN as he placed for on the table.

You try way too hard sometimes, thank you. She said using sign language, as she is a mute. As she sits down her scroll goes off, she looks at it and sees it’s Chase. She ignores it with a weird look as she usually only receives texts because a voice call with her never speaking is pointless. the two eat their breakfast until the scroll goes off again and Claire reluctantly answers.

“Claire hand this over to your boyfriend right now, he’s not answering his and we have an actual mission. Koza if you can here this get to the HQ immediately. Oh, and fair warning I’m sucker punching you in the jaw when is see you. Not because i don’t approve of you two, but because I’ve known for like a year and neither of you have told me. Bye!”

Is a sunny day in the Rose palace, Regina severina is on the garden drinking tea along with a countess, "Oh my dear countess, i am telling you, he is a fox, actually more like a fox hybrid, but i am serious about him" while they continued with the conversation, scouts informed the senate of the rumours spreading of a possible revolt in Svipjoth, the senate immediatly summoned an emergency meeting.

In the garden, severina looks to the side and sees an officer approaching, by the number of stars she deduced he was a commander, he approached and whispered in her ear "Your Highness, the senate has summoned a emergency meeting, something about a rumour of a revolt in one of our allies, svipjoth" she looks surprised and ask "rumours? since when do we act on rumours? and svipjoth, we never really did deal with each other, however its still an ally, alright" she looks to the countess, "my apologies it seems i will have to leave, we'll see each other next week" severina then opens a portal to the senate, where she sits on the highest spot.

After everyone is seated, one radical member started "Fellow members of the senate, we asked for an emergency meeting due to a rumour of a possible armed revolt in svipjoth, we need to act immediatly, send an armed response" a member from the moderate party spoke up angry "Are you mad? this could cause war if we are wrong, remember, YOU summoned us here based on a rumour, i say we send a company to investigate the situation, and probably colaborate with our allies" a member of the radical party says "Its really nice to hear this from the cowards from the opposite side, who only believe in words of peace and love, We need ACTION and fast".

Severine tired of the bickering puts her hand up as to quiet the room "I know you all hate each other, but try not to commit murder here please, anyways i think both of you are right, we do need action, however we need caution too, i decided to send a company of 4 soldiers and a seargent to investigate the situation, and then we decide on the correct action based on the intel we receive from them, we will send them to the city of Haithabu with an immediate order"

They all nodded agreeing with severina and started to leave the senate. Outside severina met with the team the high elders prepared "Your mission is simple, travel to the city of Haithabu and try to comunicate with the authorities there, you are by no means to use your magic without being attacked first, now go so i can go back to the tea"

Before we begin, a couple of notes:
- This is not an alternate reality roleplay. Everything that happens will be in the annals' of Svipish history.
- I have been working on this project for a significant amount of time, more than I would like to admit. Because this roleplay is so precious to me, I ask that everyone who participates not only obeys the rules, but also not do anything outlandish: After all, this is real-time history.
- While I won't be stringent about how I want every single interaction or engagement, I'd like the roleplay to follow this general framework:
      = Takeover of Svipjoth (and possible death of Fylkir Pjotur, I am undecided) -> Kingdom-by-Kingdom invasion (think Skyrim civil war) -> Liberation of Stahl Industries HQ in Haithabu -> Freeing of Rognhildr (previously kidnapped) and death of Lukas Grankjellsson -> Coronation of Beinlaus (if Pjotur dies).
- Stigya will be a significant player in this roleplay for story-telling purposes.
- I expect this roleplay to not be short. I want this to last for a while, to have longevity.

Thank you so much in advance for participating in this roleplay.

"Enlighten me, is everything prepared?"

Raising his head from a clipboard overstuffed with reports and checklists, a middle aged-to-elderly man calmly raised his head in response to the booming voice. He turned his sight towards the younger man hunched over a cluttered desk; both his fashion and accent were natively Stigyan, but it was clear that he was of Svipish lineage.

"Yes, Lukas. Both the MKIIIs and MKIVs are at sufficient stock, as well as able bodied mercenaries in both MK-130s and MK-280s. And, of course, we have our assured plan of gaining both required aerial and naval machinery."

"And the weaponry?"

"At the pleasure of Ryder, all of our demands have been satisfied: we have enough sabres, odin revolvers, and rail rifles to arm every basic infantryman and enough accelerator rifles, stovas, and arc cannons for our specialists."

Lukas straightened out his posture, approaching the other man. He patted his shoulder in satisfaction of the report, granting him a small smirk, before reaching to his side and retrieving his personal knife. He played with the knife momentarily, twirling it around his fingers with graceful form. Finishing is small performance, he flips the knife to hold its blade, offering the hilt to the other man,

"One last thing before we depart; make sure this blade is engraved with the phrase. You know the one," Lukas turns away and walks back to the desk, hunching over his hastily-organized maps and documents once more before continuing, "I want to make sure that whoever finds my miserable uncle's corpse knows who his killer is."

"...Yes, sir, of course. We are here to deliver military technologies to the Fylkiran Armed Forces, as donated by the Emperor himself."

Lukas spoke coldly into the radio microphone, ignoring the rushing footsteps and the hustled preparation of his soldiers as he assured the Haithabu port master of their good intention. His eyes glared towards the towering Stahl Industries headquarters, it alone making his eyebrows furrow and his knuckles white in angered passion. He nearly forgot about the port master on the line, nonchalantly flipping through papers and speaking with his coworkers, until the port master gave Lukas and his armada a hearty welcome. He thanked the port master, his twisted grimace betraying his soft tone, as he lowered the microphone from his lips. He smirked, knowing that the port master's death was imminent by way of one of many insider threats.

Within mere hours, the entire city of Haithabu was subdued, its entire military presence decimated and all forms of communication to greater Svipjoth severed. The Stahl Industries Headquarters was in a state no better than its surroundings: frightened workers restrained amongst the fresh corpses of security officers and breached armories being emptied of its deadly contents.

The regional corporate executive sat at his desk, the blaring alarms and distant screams of victims not affecting his frozen state. He watched with an empty gaze as the door to his office inevitably failed him, breaking down as Lukas and his entourage entered. He stood up slowly, facing Lukas with a cold stature.

"Who in the hell are you?" He muttered, the venom in his words seeping from his collected tone.

"Don't you DARE speak to-" A soldier screamed, but was quickly silenced by Lukas' firm hand gripping his shoulder. Giving an annoyed glance to the baffled soldier, he then moved towards the executive, standing erectly across the desk from him.

"I am Lukas Grankjellsson, son of Grankjell Arngrimsson, and I am here to reclaim my rightful title to Fylkir of Svipjoth." Finishing with an almost condescending ego, Lukas gripped his pistol and released it from its holster, shooting the executive in the head with neither delay or remorse. He turned towards his men,

"Secure the site and get the surviving workers to begin producing again. Collect anything you can and get ready to execute the rest of our plan."

Four WRSL officials were driving along the dirt roads of Svipjoth, on their way back from scouting the city of Melkorka for hosting the second Wintreath World Cup, when the passed the occupied city of Haithabu. 
“I’m just saying, Melkorka’s sports facilities are nice, but you just can’t beat the Isle of Patch. The beaches alo- wait a second, what’s up with that town?” He looks at the heavily guarded, smoking Haithabu.
“I don’t know, but that’s not the Svipish flag.” 
Instead of the typical Svipjoth flag, the flag of the revolutionaries is flying. 
“Is this some sort of revolution?” The second official eyes the guards outside. “Quick, snap some pictures before they start shooting.” 
After a few minutes, one of the guards notices them and calls to another guard.
“They see us! Let’s go!” The van speeds off into the distance. Within 48 hours, the story and pictures were all over the internet.

Before we begin, a couple of notes:
- This is not an alternate reality roleplay. Everything that happens will be in the annals' of Svipish history.
- I have been working on this project for a significant amount of time, more than I would like to admit. Because this roleplay is so precious to me, I ask that everyone who participates not only obeys the rules, but also not do anything outlandish: After all, this is real-time history.
- While I won't be stringent about how I want every single interaction or engagement, I'd like the roleplay to follow this general framework:
      = Takeover of Svipjoth (and possible death of Fylkir Pjotur, I am undecided) -> Kingdom-by-Kingdom invasion (think Skyrim civil war) -> Liberation of Stahl Industries HQ in Haithabu -> Freeing of Rognhildr (previously kidnapped) and death of Lukas Grankjellsson -> Coronation of Beinlaus (if Pjotur dies).
- Stigya will be a significant player in this roleplay for story-telling purposes.
- I expect this roleplay to not be short. I want this to last for a while, to have longevity.

Thank you so much in advance for participating in this roleplay.

"Enlighten me, is everything prepared?"

Raising his head from a clipboard overstuffed with reports and checklists, a middle aged-to-elderly man calmly raised his head in response to the booming voice. He turned his sight towards the younger man hunched over a cluttered desk; both his fashion and accent were natively Stigyan, but it was clear that he was of Svipish lineage.

"Yes, Lukas. Both the MKIIIs and MKIVs are at sufficient stock, as well as able bodied mercenaries in both MK-130s and MK-280s. And, of course, we have our assured plan of gaining both required aerial and naval machinery."

"And the weaponry?"

"At the pleasure of Ryder, all of our demands have been satisfied: we have enough sabres, odin revolvers, and rail rifles to arm every basic infantryman and enough accelerator rifles, stovas, and arc cannons for our specialists."

Lukas straightened out his posture, approaching the other man. He patted his shoulder in satisfaction of the report, granting him a small smirk, before reaching to his side and retrieving his personal knife. He played with the knife momentarily, twirling it around his fingers with graceful form. Finishing is small performance, he flips the knife to hold its blade, offering the hilt to the other man,

"One last thing before we depart; make sure this blade is engraved with the phrase. You know the one," Lukas turns away and walks back to the desk, hunching over his hastily-organized maps and documents once more before continuing, "I want to make sure that whoever finds my miserable uncle's corpse knows who his killer is."

"...Yes, sir, of course. We are here to deliver military technologies to the Fylkiran Armed Forces, as donated by the Emperor himself."

Lukas spoke coldly into the radio microphone, ignoring the rushing footsteps and the hustled preparation of his soldiers as he assured the Haithabu port master of their good intention. His eyes glared towards the towering Stahl Industries headquarters, it alone making his eyebrows furrow and his knuckles white in angered passion. He nearly forgot about the port master on the line, nonchalantly flipping through papers and speaking with his coworkers, until the port master gave Lukas and his armada a hearty welcome. He thanked the port master, his twisted grimace betraying his soft tone, as he lowered the microphone from his lips. He smirked, knowing that the port master's death was imminent by way of one of many insider threats.

Within mere hours, the entire city of Haithabu was subdued, its entire military presence decimated and all forms of communication to greater Svipjoth severed. The Stahl Industries Headquarters was in a state no better than its surroundings: frightened workers restrained amongst the fresh corpses of security officers and breached armories being emptied of its deadly contents.

The regional corporate executive sat at his desk, the blaring alarms and distant screams of victims not affecting his frozen state. He watched with an empty gaze as the door to his office inevitably failed him, breaking down as Lukas and his entourage entered. He stood up slowly, facing Lukas with a cold stature.

"Who in the hell are you?" He muttered, the venom in his words seeping from his collected tone.

"Don't you DARE speak to-" A soldier screamed, but was quickly silenced by Lukas' firm hand gripping his shoulder. Giving an annoyed glance to the baffled soldier, he then moved towards the executive, standing erectly across the desk from him.

"I am Lukas Grankjellsson, son of Grankjell Arngrimsson, and I am here to reclaim my rightful title to Fylkir of Svipjoth." Finishing with an almost condescending ego, Lukas gripped his pistol and released it from its holster, shooting the executive in the head with neither delay or remorse. He turned towards his men,

"Secure the site and get the surviving workers to begin producing again. Collect anything you can and get ready to execute the rest of our plan."

   It was a cold winter day in the Capital. Inside the palace, Ariah II was eating her dinner. A helicopter landed on a nearby helipad, carrying a messenger. The messenger burst in the dining room shouting, "Your Majest-" Ariah cut him off with a bullet coming from her sniper rifle inches away from his head. "Who are you, and give me a good reason not to kill you for interrupting my dinner?" The messenger was shaking. "I-I have a message for you. Svipjoth is in a state of civil war."  Ariah put down her sniper rifle. "Tell my advisors to gather in my meeting room," replied Ariah.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
   Lighting a cigarette, Ariah sat in her seat. "So, apparently my man Pjotur couldn't handle some little rebs," said Ariah smugly. "But I think we should help him. I like him. He gets the job done. So, 600,000 soldiers, go, go, go, pew pew, war's over. Send 600,000 troops and kick their ass. End of meeting." She started to walk away. "Your Majesty, shouldn't we discuss this more?", inquired her Financial advisor. "Well," said Ariah. "There's always a replacement." 6 armed gaurds came in, cuffed the advisor, and threw him in a closet, where beating noises could be heard, a man begging for his life, and then a shot. "And, also, get to work on finding his replacment.

With the capital of Danmark secured under Lukas Grankjellsson's iron grasp, the streets were littered with ash and rubble. The Fencian Cathedral was set ablaze, with many Stigyan citizens that resided in Haithabu forcibly corralled into the cathedral beforehand; only those Stigyans that worked production for Stahl Industries were spared their lives in exchange for becoming cogs for Lukas' war machine. All others, whether by instinct of self-preservation or threat of execution, reservedly proceeded to their workplaces and routine.

Roxas’ eye narrowed. “Send another high altitude drone over that way, I want to know what the Grey is going on immediately.”

This scene of war and despair was captured by the entirety of the high altitude drone, streamed directly to Emperor Roxas himself. The signal, shortly after displaying the beginning of the Cathedral blaze, cut abruptly, presumably from being struck. Amidst these horrible images, one particular banner caught his attention. 

After a few minutes, one of the guards notices them and calls to another guard.
“They see us! Let’s go!” The van speeds off into the distance. Within 48 hours, the story and pictures were all over the internet.

The van had barely made it out of range of the rebels, its rear bumper and trunk littered with bullet holes. The pictures that circulated displayed the same banner that had caught the attention of the Emperor: A banner of blood red, traced only by the insignia of an eagle, staring down with empty eyes.

"Your mission is simple, travel to the city of Haithabu and try to comunicate with the authorities there, you are by no means to use your magic without being attacked first, now go so i can go back to the tea"

On another corner of approach to Haithabu, opposite to the speeding Kiddian van, the small entourage of Holy Spireans cautiously approached the fortified entrance of Haithabu. Immediately assumed as threats, the revolutionary soldiers aimed their rifles at them, ready to fire when they spoke of their intentions. Gaining the consent of Lukas Grankjellsson, the Holy Spireans were allowed to enter the occupied city, as they were accompanied by soldiers to the Stahl Industry building.

Where Director Orlov once sat is now where Lukas lounged as the entourage is hustled into the office, before the guards themselves slammed the doors and stood in between the Holy Spireans and their only means of exit.

"Welcome to the beginning of a reborn Svipjoth," Lukas stood from his chair, a cocky smile curving his mustache, "we are glad that you came as emissaries and not as mere cattle to slaughter."

"Alas though..." Lukas loftily raised his gaze towards the ceiling, crossing his arms as he then looks back down to the men, "Foreigners are forbidden in the land of the Svens, as it should have been since the year of Ormgudinna, punishable by death. However, because of your polite nature, I will give you a choice. You see, I need a transmission sent to every world leader, to every city center. I would imagine that as practitioners of magic, you could accomplish this broadcast. So, let us scratch each others' backs here: if you cooperate and transmit this speech as I instruct, I shall let you exit Haithabu and the whole of Svipjoth with my protection against any well-intentioned, but overpassionate revolutionary. What is your choice?"

"Alas though..." Lukas loftily raised his gaze towards the ceiling, crossing his arms as he then looks back down to the men, "Foreigners are forbidden in the land of the Svens, as it should have been since the year of Ormgudinna, punishable by death. However, because of your polite nature, I will give you a choice. You see, I need a transmission sent to every world leader, to every city center. I would imagine that as practitioners of magic, you could accomplish this broadcast. So, let us scratch each others' backs here: if you cooperate and transmit this speech as I instruct, I shall let you exit Haithabu and the whole of Svipjoth with my protection against any well-intentioned, but overpassionate revolutionary. What is your choice?"

The sergeant speaks up “Even thought that Type of magic demands considerable magic power, we can for sure broadcast the so speech you want to do, all you need to do is say when to do the transmission after we start the preparations that shouldn’t take more than 15 minutes, we also are very thankful of your eternal mercy  you have given us” he then turns to the other wizards an nods.


They start the preparations, all the 5(OOC: can’t remember how many were so im gonna say it’s 5) 
Raise their wands to the sky and start whispering”Transmittere nuntium” finally the sergeant takes a philosopher’s stone and puts it on the ground in the middle of a circle.

the stone starts rotating at ridiculous speeds causing a light breeze, the stone then shines with a red light and after 4 minutes stops rotating and emitting light and floats 1 meter of the ground.


The sergeant then looks at Lucas and says “it’s ready, when you are ready”

“Boss, are you seeing this?” An aide to the Secretary of War asks.
“Seeing what?” Replies the new Secretary of War, Shulamis Diaz.
“Apparently, there’s a rebellion in Svipjoth. It’s all over the internet.”
“Oh, that’s just a hoax or a conspiracy theory. What’s next, the rebels came from MRTACC-17?”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Apparently, 4 WRSL officials traveling through Svipjoth were reported missing.”
“Hmm…those pictures do look pretty convincing. Get me the leaders of Svipjoth and the Stigyan Triumvirate on the line.”

July 8, 2022 - Evening.
The Citadel, Solitas.

Roxas and Viktor stood in the war room with Generals Ironwood and Lyons, watching live footage from the Aerial drone. Viktor and Ironwood looked horrified and enraged, while Lyons was analyzing every detail like a computer. However Roxas had an absolutely neutral look, like he just went all in on a poker hand.

"This is an OUTRAGE!" Ironwoods voice boomed as the Haithabu Church of the Fence was set ablaze, with hundreds of Stigyan civilians still inside. "We need to send in our full might and crush these animals immediately."

Lyons shook his head "It hasn't even been a year since the Ursian Civil War ended. We can't just keep throwing our full force at every enemy who comes our way. we need-"

Roxas cut everyone off by simply raising his hand. "Here's what we do." He said, his voice unnervingly calm. "Contact Pjotur immediately, have him secure Uppsala with everything he has. We'll increase our own security just in case. Send in phantom teams and figure out exactly what's going on, and evacuate any high value individuals. Ironwood, prepare your men. Viktor, send word to WARPP. We're going to hunt whoever these people are like rabid dogs and kill every last one of them." Roxas started to walk out of the room. "Now go. I have to take care of something important."

_-_-_-_-_-

Rognhildr was in her room reading a book before bed when there was a knock on the door. "Who is it?" She asked.

"It's me." Roxas said "I have Cypress with me, can we come in? It's important."

Rognhildr rushed over and opened the door. 'Yes...What's going on?" She saw the look in Roxas' eye and knew it was bad news.

"Have a seat, both of you." The children sat on the bed. "Earlier today Haithabu was attacked by an unknown group wielding Stigyan weapons."Rognhildr's eyes went wide in fear. "Communications to the city are cut, Stahl Industries as fallen, and The Church of the Fence was burned with hundreds of Stigyans locked inside."

Rognhildr started to tear up at the news, but Cypress put a hand on her shoulder as Roxas continued. "I'm working with your father now to secure Uppsala, and I'm sending in my best people to punish these monsters. I know it's hard to hear but It's better you found out from me than the news, it won't be long until the entire region ears about this. If you need anything just let me know. The entire Amory family is here for you."

She wiped her eyes "Thank you Roxas. You'll help protect my home, right?"

"I will, whoever did this will have his head mounted on the bridge of the Gail Arbor by the time we're done." Roxas gave her a caring look before leaving the room, Cypress tried to follow him.

"Father how can I help?" He asked.

"By getting back there and comforting her." Roxas answered. "Stay with her, watch movies, play games. Try to keep her in a good headspace."

Cypress blushed a bit "You mean...I can stay in her room tonight?"

"If she wants, yes. Just keep the door open." Roxas smirked as his son went back to Rognhildr. The two were easily still young enough that Roxas didn't have to worry about the implications of them sleeping in the same room, but judging by the color of Cypress' face it would definitely be a concern sooner than he would like.

_-_-_-_-

Koza stepped out of the elevator to the war room and immediately saw Chase walking towards him. Oh s**t He thought internally as she smiled at him.

"Before you do anything rash let me-" Her fist slammed into his jaw, knocking him over. As he tried figure out which was was up he noticed Chase looking down at him.

"Dear team Leader. You've been dating my sister for at least a year now and neither of you have bothered to tell me. That's just a breach of trust right there." She said playfully while spinning a butterfly knife. 

Koza slowly stood up. "Because we both thought as soon as we told you I would end up flayed alive and dumped on the side of the highway. You realize how insane and protective you are right?"

She shrugged "The only thing that pisses me off is that you kept it a secret. personally I think you two are adorable together. Now relocate your jaw and lets get in there, Viktor has a mission for us! Let's go kill something."

The sergeant speaks up “Even thought that Type of magic demands considerable magic power, we can for sure broadcast the so speech you want to do, all you need to do is say when to do the transmission after we start the preparations that shouldn’t take more than 15 minutes, we also are very thankful of your eternal mercy  you have given us” he then turns to the other wizards an nods.

They start the preparations, all the 5(OOC: can’t remember how many were so im gonna say it’s 5)
Raise their wands to the sky and start whispering”Transmittere nuntium” finally the sergeant takes a philosopher’s stone and puts it on the ground in the middle of a circle.

the stone starts rotating at ridiculous speeds causing a light breeze, the stone then shines with a red light and after 4 minutes stops rotating and emitting light and floats 1 meter of the ground.

The sergeant then looks at Lucas and says “it’s ready, when you are ready”

"I appreciate your cooperation. Your compromise will not go unforgotten."

Lukas gets up and stands in front of the levitating philosopher's stone, straightening his collar before signaling the sergeant to begin.

Across every capital's main pavilion and in the war room of every sovereign nation's governmental building, a life sized projection of a man appeared. He was ethereal in form, made up of tens of thousands of tiny glowing magical wisps. From what detail can be deciphered, he was wearing a military uniform with a low mohawk and a fully fledged van dyke beard. He paused for a moment, anticipating the initial shock and following attention from all who saw his appearance until he began to speak,

"Greetings. My name is Lukas Grankjellsson, son of Grankjell Arngrimsson who was the brother of the current Fylkir of Svipjoth, Pjotur Arngrimsson. I would like to thank the emissaries from Holy Spire for assisting me in the broadcasting of this speech.

Many years ago, when Pjotur began to desecrate our culture and way of life via technological corruption and foreign influence on the everyday Svip, my father took a stand. He fought against my dictatorial uncle for many years, over twenty to be precise, until his valiant death in battle. Pjotur says that he has forgiven those that fought on my father's side and is absolved with the past. However, your injustices leaves your business with the past unfinished. In secrecy, I was raised to finish what my father started, and I intend to bring Svipjoth's long overdue freedoms and liberty to fruition.

Our revolution has begun in Haithabu and will spread all across Svipjoth. My father's death will be avenged by my hand, and in his honor and that of Hvitakristr, I will ascend to the throne and lead Svipjoth back to righteousness.

News has already broken out about our retaking of Haithabu, and while the concern of our nation is appreciated, it is misplaced. Worry not about those who bring necessary change, but those that are in power and corrupting both the legacy and the future of Svipjoth. To those that wish to fight alongside the tyrants, we will crush you with the same strength and agility as the ruling class. Do not involve yourself, this is not your fight. To The Stigyan Triumvirate, I ask that you not only stay out of what is a rightful transfer of power in our nation, but to return Rognhildr, for she is collateral damage and does not deserve to be exposed to any other culture except the one she was born in.

And finally, to you, uncle. Make your amends swiftly, your doom is near."

The sergeant speaks up “Even thought that Type of magic demands considerable magic power, we can for sure broadcast the so speech you want to do, all you need to do is say when to do the transmission after we start the preparations that shouldn’t take more than 15 minutes, we also are very thankful of your eternal mercy  you have given us” he then turns to the other wizards an nods.

They start the preparations, all the 5(OOC: can’t remember how many were so im gonna say it’s 5)
Raise their wands to the sky and start whispering”Transmittere nuntium” finally the sergeant takes a philosopher’s stone and puts it on the ground in the middle of a circle.

the stone starts rotating at ridiculous speeds causing a light breeze, the stone then shines with a red light and after 4 minutes stops rotating and emitting light and floats 1 meter of the ground.

The sergeant then looks at Lucas and says “it’s ready, when you are ready”

"I appreciate your cooperation. Your compromise will not go unforgotten."

Lukas gets up and stands in front of the levitating philosopher's stone, straightening his collar before signaling the sergeant to begin.

Across every capital's main pavilion and in the war room of every sovereign nation's governmental building, a life sized projection of a man appeared. He was ethereal in form, made up of tens of thousands of tiny glowing magical wisps. From what detail can be deciphered, he was wearing a military uniform with a low mohawk and a fully fledged van dyke beard. He paused for a moment, anticipating the initial shock and following attention from all who saw his appearance until he began to speak,

"Greetings. My name is Lukas Grankjellsson, son of Grankjell Arngrimsson who was the brother of the current Fylkir of Svipjoth, Pjotur Arngrimsson. I would like to thank the emissaries from Holy Spire for assisting me in the broadcasting of this speech.

Many years ago, when Pjotur began to desecrate our culture and way of life via technological corruption and foreign influence on the everyday Svip, my father took a stand. He fought against my dictatorial uncle for many years, over twenty to be precise, until his valiant death in battle. Pjotur says that he has forgiven those that fought on my father's side and is absolved with the past. However, your injustices leaves your business with the past unfinished. In secrecy, I was raised to finish what my father started, and I intend to bring Svipjoth's long overdue freedoms and liberty to fruition.

Our revolution has begun in Haithabu and will spread all across Svipjoth. My father's death will be avenged by my hand, and in his honor and that of Hvitakristr, I will ascend to the throne and lead Svipjoth back to righteousness.

News has already broken out about our retaking of Haithabu, and while the concern of our nation is appreciated, it is misplaced. Worry not about those who bring necessary change, but those that are in power and corrupting both the legacy and the future of Svipjoth. To those that wish to fight alongside the tyrants, we will crush you with the same strength and agility as the ruling class. Do not involve yourself, this is not your fight. To The Stigyan Triumvirate, I ask that you not only stay out of what is a rightful transfer of power in our nation, but to return Rognhildr, for she is collateral damage and does not deserve to be exposed to any other culture except the one she was born in.

And finally, to you, uncle. Make your amends swiftly, your doom is near."

July 8, 2022 - Night
The Citadel, Solitas.

The magical image of Lukas disappeared after the speech and the Executive Council looked at Roxas, who was pouring himself a glass of Svipish vodka in solidarity with his embattled allies. "Thirty million łien to whoever brings me that arrogant D*****canoe's head." He said as he downed the drink. The entire council looked nervous, but Lillian Stahl, The Executor of Industry and Roxas' mother in-law spoke first. 

"Well obviously we're going to stop them. And don't even tell me you're thinking of sending that sweet girl back to a war zone."

"Of course not." Roxas said immediately. "He called her 'collateral damage.' Besides, after what they did to our civilians we would likely be signing her death warrant."

"But your Grace, It's a civil conflict. Surely we shouldn't interfere." Lyons insisted, and was immediately got death glares from both Roxas and Lillian.

"Get out Lyons, I know you're tired and stressed, the last 2 years have been nonstop battle planning for you boys in the military, so go take a nap and come back when you find your f***king backbone."

_-_-_-_-_-

KMSN entered the briefing room where Viktor was waiting. A holographic map of Svipjoth appeared as Viktor gave out his orders. 

"I'm sure you're all aware about the uprising in Haithabu. We need to be ready for the worst case scenario. Knowing the viking honor of the Svips, Pjotur and his older sons will likely be fighting on he frontlines. We plan on winning this war, but we need to be ready for the fact people will die. For this reason we are deploying you to retrieve four members of the Ljufving family: Hardaknut, Ignja, Aunstjerni, and Gudrùn. We need to ensure that the bloodline stays intact should Pjotur, Beinlaus, and Domaldi fall in battle. Get your gear and move out, your VTOL leaves in 2 hours."

Queen Jorja I orders Carry Pillow and Raul Menendez to enter her office for an emergency meeting, a few hours later they both arrive. “I’m sure you’ve heard the news by now.” Jorja says staring into the eyes of Carry and Menendez, frightening them both. “As of a the moment, I’m unaware. Can someone fill me in?” Carry asks quietly as Menendez lights his cigar. “Svipjoth, our viking brother, is in civil war. The fact you don’t know this by now is concerning.” Jorja let’s out a sigh. “Alright, the call to war was sounded, how do we react?” Menendez pulls out a map and a marker and marks the occupied city. “Before we act, it would be best to embargo Svipjoth and wait for a response. If 2 weeks pass we’ll send in fifteen-thousand soldiers, if a month goes by and our navy isn’t touched we’ll start light bombing raids over Hairhabu. If 3 months pass we’ll start heavy bombing raids.” Jorja looks at Menendez with disgust. “While I appreciate the thought, we’re trying to get an alliance with Svipjoth. I think it’s best if we get Roxas and Tjorvisson to approve the bombing raids, but I fully support an embargo. Carry, do you have any plans?” Carry straightens out her back. “At the moment, the Svipish Gullin is at least three dollars less than an Northern Greenlandic Ducat, and with a rebellion the currency in the occupied territory will plummet. If we air drop millions of Ducats into the occupied territory the currency will become worthless, the citizen and soldier moral will drop, and there might be uprisings within the cities.” Jorja and Menendez nod their head. “I love it. We’ll rework the plan a bit, but we will stick with that plan. Great work. You’re both free to leave.” As they leave Jorja let’s out a sigh and leaves the Royal Palace.

OOC: sorry if this is bad, I need sleep lol

The Sergeant picks up the stone and turns to lukas while bowing his head "What an amazing speech good sir, now, with your permission i would like to return to my wife and kids in solium deae,i will also gift this stone to you, it has enough magic to function for 1 year, it can function as fuel, or as an a protection charm" he then raises the stone towards lukas " here you may have it"

At home, an emergency meeting was called again in the senate. Both parties were furious and called for the imprisonment of the soldiers for assisting the enemy, severina knowing full well they were only following her orders contested "I shall not hear anymore of this, the soldiers did their job perfectly, they follow my orders, not yours, i ordered them not to be agressive since its was a diplomatic mission and to inform us of the situation, which they did, with perfection." The senators contest, claiming that it would cause uproar in the population, severina then spoke up "The next person to speak of this will be sentenced to death by my hands, do you understand?" the senators now quiet, nodded their heads and took their seats. "A new army is to be formed, wizards must be summoned, golems must be built" a young man rose up, "Fantastic idea, lets go with that, i officially give the order for the formation of a grand army of the republi...wait no thats wrong, a grand army of the Empire, 250 thousand soldiers, also summon the Order of Rose, they must be arriving from their training in zazibari. Tell them to prepare to a fight" she then stands up "This meeting is over" she then leaves and goes to the war room.

The aide returns to the room.
“Were you able to contact them?” Asks Diaz
“No need, boss. A call to war was initiated by TST.”
“Great, well, I have a plan. We’ll send a legion from Kiddia up through Rookton and Pinerest. That’ll be the eastern front. At the same time, we’ll start a legion in Bradsford and head through Highen. That’ll be the western front. Both fronts will pick up more troops along the way.”
When the fronts reach the Svipish border, the eastern front has grown to 23,500 troops, and the western front had grown to 30,000

Jorja, Carry, Menendez, and several economic advisors meet to discuss Carry’s plan. Carry speaks up, getting the attention of the room. “Many nations are using lethal force against the Svipish rebels, however I think this situation can be solved without further bloodshed. Introducing: Operation Rosebud. We will print billions of Svipish Gullin’s and pump them into the occupied cities. If the currency changes we’ll just print that. Any and all economic reforms in the rebellion will be crushed within hours.” She takes a sip of water as one of the advisors starts questioning. “While I love that idea, how exactly would we get the money there?” Menendez lights a cigar and chuckles. “Me and Carry were discussing this, we created a  scenario so foolproof, there will be nothing they can do.” He throws a file on the table named OR-1-R. “Operation Rosebud 1 Revised. Using bombers, we will stuff crates of Gullin’s and dropping them into the cities every few hours. They’ll be escorted by stealth bombers, fighter jets, kamikaze drones, and Death Bat’s, just in case any AA tries to mess with them.” All the advisors agree to the plan and Menendez let’s out a huge grin. “Prepare the air force and start printing, we have quite a lot of work to do!”