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Iverica last won the day on December 11 2023

Iverica had the most liked content!

About Iverica

  • Birthday July 10

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    Palá dei Primo, Intreimor City, Iverica
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    #POTROI @wittier (Primo of The Republic of Iverica)


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    Franso Deitorr
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    Abé-Juan Quenovi

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  1. @Solvrige I've just gotten to read this now but I hope you're okay with having a multinational coast guard type of naval installation already set up near your choice of option 1. The RP was made and completed some years ago so it's already been a canon item for a while. Specifically: https://www.europans.com/topic/5860-the-polar-service/?do=findComment&comment=40015686
  2. OOC: I'm keeping up the pace and tone of the letter of interest sent. There is a whole process for this but it doesn't have to be RP'd because it is just meetings, quant, and bureaucracy. This can serve as your confirmation that the transaction went through. Since we're selling a non-AIP variant with a custom drive system and non-magnetic hull I can provide some extra details where needed for the S-210E at the buyer's discretion.
  3. FORTUNA Quatros, Treses, Pares 2 pairs of Emperors and Empresses in different styles. Red or black spots on cards are often used to denote "reversed" cards though in most decks, the reversed-card art also takes a more sinister tone. --- The card game Fortuna is a popular Iberic card game played using a deck of Tacalan Imperial Tarot, specifically, the set Aracana Mayor. The game is popular around the glube due to influence from diaspora communities and is one of the primary games played at Iberic Casinos. It is also often played as a social pastime among friends or strangers at public houses, parks, or other social areas. The game is often played with a gambling element but may be traditionally enjoyed with no money changing hands. In either gambling or non-gambling scenarios, the game traditionally utilises a set of Viatge-Style Scrimshaw Tablets as betting chips in place of or exchangeable for money. Fortuna is the single most common card game played throughout the Iberosphere. A 2022 national survey in Iverica determined that Fortuna tables at Iverican Casinos generated an average of 71.2% of gaming revenues for the fiscal year. The Tacalan Imperial Tarot deck is believed to originate from the upper peerage of the Iberic nobility during the Reformation era of 1450 CE though accounts of similar games by different names suggest that the structure of the game was established around the time of the Iberic Imperial Union in 1030 CE. The playing cards were historically rendered in Adapton Aroman or Tagmatine Aroman styles, though modern editions appear to favour an early-medieval Laimiaic style. The cards were primarily used for fortune telling but the practice was demonised by the Tacolic Church during the Reformation era, resulting in the diminishment of their use as divination instruments. Today, one can take a walk down any public space in Intreimor during the usual lunch hours and find friends, colleagues, or total strangers playing for "L'Borsa" (the Bag - of winnings) or "A'Pecona" (or without money, for free). It is often claimed that within D'Corte Mesón (The Court of Inns and Pubs), the streets by the old stone quays in Intreimor's Quatro D'Veio (the Old Quarter) play host to some of the wurld's greatest Fortunaplayers; among them is the famous gambler, flamenco guitarist, and folk singer, Keni Rogelio (a pseudonym, identity unknown) who allegedly died in a train accident in 2020 near Cubrir Dei Gasto, a town with a name that ironically translates to "Break Even". Legends aside, the Corte Mesón is also a great place to get a spiced ham on flatbread wrap while you walk along the cramped but historical cobbled street that was once a journeyman's haunt. Iberic card enthusiasts will claim that any self-respecting casino worth your trouble ought to have a Fortuna Table - a claim that might be true for casinos outside the Ibersophere if one were so inclined to investigate. D'Corte Mesón, Intreimor: market place and card haven --- PLAYING FORTUNA --- General Details: 2 sets of Aracana Major cards. One set "upright" the other set "reversed". 22 Cards per set for a total of 44 cards. Can be played by 3-8 people (1 player can be a dealer) The game is played in rounds of dealing, betting, and tallying cards at the end. Having the highest hand will win you a round. Glossary: Rostros ("faces"): Refer to the different characters on the cards Manos ("hands"): Refer to the different sets of cards you can be dealt or draw. Getting certain combinations determines if you win the round or not. Order of primacy: Quemeras ("Chimeras"): a mano, a combination of Treses, Pares, Gemines, or Mezclas. Quatros ("fours"): a mano, set of 4 Treses ("threes"): a mano, set of 3 Pares ("pair(s)"): a mano, meaning "pair". Gemines ("twins"): a mano, cards that share the same rostro. Mezcla ("mixed"): a mano, meaning "mixed". Diestre ("right-handed"): the higher half of the deck (e.g. Fate, Justice, San, etc). Surde ("left-handed"): the lower half of the deck (e.g. Death, Judgement, Mun, etc). Ordos ("orders/ranks"): Refer to the "rankings" of rostros (faces) or manos (hands/sets) Ronda ("round"): a series of Retos and card dealing culminating in a show of manos. depending on the number of players, this might be 1 game. Postar: to "post" money to enter the round Posta: the amount posted. Borsa: bag/pot of bet money Borsita: the lesser pot of money. Reto ("challenge or dare"): dealer's call for Dura, Regero, Dedito (Check, Raise, Fold) Dura: Check Regero: Raise Dedito: Fold Scalpa ("slice"): a random card drawn by the dealer to break an impasse. Results are determined by the card being either Diestre or Surde Ruindado ("ruined or broke"): declared when you don't want to play or can't. Game Mechanics: Objective: Have the highest Mano (hand) at the end of a Ronda (round) If someone has a similar Mano, the Borsa (Pot) goes to the one with more upright cards. Flow: Order of Rondas, or "rounds", depending on the number of players, this might be 1 game: Start Round: Postar ("Post") - players set an entry fee and buy-in to play. Money gets held by the dealer or "Cavo/Cabo", who holds the "Borsa" or bag/pot. The money paid is called "Posta" 1st Deal: 2 cards are dealt to each player starting from the right hand of the dealer and going around the table. Reto ("challenge/dare") - The Cavo calls "Reto!" and starting from the dealer's right hand, the players call either: Dura ("endure/stay") - no increase bet but keep playing. Regero ("retort") - add money to the Borsa, forcing the table to increase its Posta (usually by half - rounded down if uneven - of the money placed by the Regeristo/a) Dedito ("surrender/fold") - surrender cards and Posta but the Deditero/a does not have to pay any additional Posta from a Regero. **Breaking a Tied Reto: The table moves on if the Dura or Regero calls have a clear majority. If the Reto is evenly matched between Regero calls and Dura calls, the Cavo calls Reto 1 more time. If it still is not unanimous, he draws 1 card from the pile to do a "Scalpa" or slice. If the card is one of the Diestre (see the "Mezcla" Ordos below) the Dura is sustained but anyone who calls Regero has his posts put into a separate Borsa called a "Borsita" and the table plays on. If the card is one of the Surde, the Regero is sustained but anyone who calls Dura has to add money to the pot to match the raised money put in by the Regerado/a. The extra money gained in the Scalpa goes to the Borsita. 2nd Deal: The Cavo then deals 1 card to each player. A Reto call is repeated. If there are only 2 players left at any point in this round of Reto, the game goes directly to "Revelar", where players reveal their Manos. If there are more than 2 remaining, the Reto proceeds as earlier described. Felis D'Idiota: The Fool's Luck. At any point in the Reto of the 2nd Deal, any player with the Idiot card can leave it on the table, rostra up and withdraw half (again, rounded down) his postar. If the postar is so low it cannot be rounded down, he may take the full postar out of the Borsa. All players with an Idiot card can do this (meaning a total of 2 players can exit). 3rd Deal: The Cavo then deals a final 2 cards to each player. One last Reto is called. If there are only 2 players left at any point in this round of Reto, the game goes directly to "Revelar", where players reveal their cards. End Round: Revelar - the dealer asks players to show their Manos. See the list of Manos below for the hierarchy or Manos and Ordos. Manos are always ranked starting with Quatros, Treses, Pares, Gemine, and lastly, Mezcla. Quemeras or "Chimeras" are special combinations that can beat certain Manos depending on the composition. Refer to the Quemera guide below. A player with 2 Idiots, any Devil card, and any hangman cards may play them in L'Mano dei Felisiota, "the lucky fool's hand". If there is already an Idiot card or pair of Idiots on the table from a previous play of Felis D'Idiota, the player with the cards to complete the set: Devil, Idiot, Idiot, Hangman reveals them for a chance at winning the Borsita Winning Fortuna: The hierarchy of Manos and Ordos (below) is used to determine the winner of the Ronda. Special Conditions: Speculo: If the any of remaining players have the same highest Ordo in their Manos, the winnings are split. The player with the most upright cards in the Mano gets the Borsa. If the number of upright-reversed cards are equal, the one with the highest rank upright card gets the Borsa. The losing player in the tie keeps the Borsita. If a player has completed L'Mano dei Felisiota, that player can take the Borsita provided there was no Speculo- if any, the loser of the Speculo will always take the Borsita ahead of the Felisiota player. If the Borsita was taken by the Speculo loser, the player of the Felsiota hand can withdraw his full postar (including any additional bet amount). --- 3 different cards showing Death ---
  4. Clarification. Shouldn't the broad Terrabellum war discussions be going on here? Since it says "part 2". I assumed it was meant for the phase of the war we're currently in/finishing. With this thread being for the opening stuff. In the meantime, I've added some classification to the titles so it's less confusing:
  5. OOC: First part is just above this one A Grand War Short: Classénalia (Part 2 of 3) 21 JAN, 2023 | 2022 Iverican Standard Time The City of Manille, Iverica --- Santino Mondragon-Palou, Subcabinero - Cadet Midshipman VRI L'Peninsula Iverio, currently on shore liberty - Roxas Boulevard There were audible murmurs of confusion amongst the crowd. Something like this had certainly not been expected or advertised. Someone in the crowd said that the flash and boom must have been the afterburners kicking in and the Thunders going supersonic. Santi, befuddled and fairly tipsy by then, just started, clapping and cheering along with a few drunker revellers in the press of bodies along the boulevard. A second later though, their chaperone petty officer was at this shoulder with a serious look on his face. Shit. Santi blinked stupidly, did he look that drunk? The old rating opened his mouth to say something but was promptly and violently cut off by another cheer from some of the crowd. A series of flickering glows were spotted dead ahead in the distance. The F-4s were coming in for an overhead pass it seemed. They were awfully low. Nobody on the boulevard understood what happened next. One moment the L'Peninsula was calmly floating not 30 metres from them, making a turn to circle the bay. The next, it disappeared in a hyper-candescent flashbulb as a single beam of star-born light seemed to lance across the bay and right into the amidships centre deck. If the crowd made a noise, Santi couldn't tell. The banshee shriek and boom that followed a millisecond later drowned everything out. The invisible wall of force that slammed a curtain of searing hot air into him knocked his breath away. Santi fell onto his back, his head striking the pavement with a crack. He was confused, his eyes forced skyward as he struggled to process things from his supine position. Another light streaked overhead. Santi's eyes dumbly tracked the light, more out of reflex than effort. They lagged behind the streak, catching the afterimage left in its wake. There was a whoosh of displaced air like a hurricane gust. Before Santi's stunned and clouded eyes could trace the path properly, another shockwave came, this time sending a wave of dust into the bay side and the boy's eyes. He scarcely heard the explosion as the sound waves caught up, his ears playing a bass drum and microphone feedback ring that was growing louder by the second. The boy coughed and struggled to wipe his eyes, but his hands were filthy too and caked with some blood from where he'd skinned them trying to break his fall on the cobbled stones. A glimmering interjection, more of an afterthought than anything flitted through his brain. Even before blearily glancing through his muddled eyes and seeing the hilltops afire, Santi knew that the thing had hit Sotavento. --- Carlo Garcia, Freshman University of Sant'Erasmo Years later when he thought back to that evening, Carlos Garcia, a freshman student at the time of the Manille Bay attack, would reminisce with a vivid clarity that still brought pins and needles to the tips of his toes and fingers. It was a chemically etched reel of negatives in his memory, constantly refreshed by the recording of the livestream he had never turned off since he arrived at his perch at his university's hilltop promenade. The moment marked 21 minutes and 32 seconds into the stream would become historical footage, preserved in stills and video snippets echoed by news broadcasts and publications the wurld over. A scant few minutes that echoed the time when Manille's festivity had turned to fire. Frames froze the scenes showing how the bay had been alight with the fires from the burning hulk of the CV-34, Federation Class. L'Peninsula Iverio. When just moments before, it had been the object of adulation, the new carrier had quickly crumpled under the mass of an 8-metre-long anti-ship missile detonating a 250-kilogramme warhead into its central compartment. It had listed hard to its port during its close pass of the boulevard, rolling so severely that the 2 tugs keeping it clear of the bay-side masonry were crushed beneath 52,000 tonnes of Armada steel. Even from his perch, Carlos had seen the cabin light go out of one's wheelhouse as the small boat was popped like an overripe grape in a wine press. The carrier's sides all but burst the flimsy craft against 4-century-old masonry. The memories of that night were overwhelming. They rendered his brain imbecilic and mute to witness the effects of technical sorcery utilised for the speed and violence of information-era warfare. The untrained human brain was a low and crass intelligence when it was forced to stare, unblinking at a scale of violence usually witnessed in piecemeal bites and behind the sterile safety of a screen. Seldom were they witnessed in the barrage that they were, and even rarer still, in so short a time. For even as the young man remembered the death-throes of the carrier celebrated with the namesake of the Iverican Peninsula and the hapless scores crushed in its fall, there had been bursts of light in the sky, fireballs and starbursts as interceptor missiles weaved a tango with attackers. There had been frigates and destroyers in the distance, fresh from the yards and awaiting their turn to salute the crowds, only to be struck by missiles cresting the horizon; the impacts marked by the tell-tale fairly light bulbs, small bright balls appearing like pinpricks of light at that distance. There had been afterburner glow trails of Fuersas L'Aire TA-201 air superiority fighters racing toward the sea, There had been frequent blossoms of fire and smoke from the metropolitan area, as a missile would strike or crash somewhere in Manille, the city of sailors, the home of the Armada. Among the first missiles that had gotten through the weakened integrated air defence system was one bound for Sotavento. A cruise missile narrowly slipped the blast radius of an exploding interceptor and spun, damaged, and out of control, into the 340-year-old seat of Iverican naval power. On its drunken terminal spin down, it decapitated the belfry of the Cathedral of Stella Maris, where every newly minted officer swore their oaths before taking a commission. The Aromanesque-revival tower had been wrought of natural red and pink coral stone, the labour of 2-score artisans working night and day for 3 years. It housed a set of 4 gold-trimmed brass bells, each 2.62 metres in diameter and weighing 12 tonnes. All four were inscribed with the names of those who had made the greatest of sacrifices during the Gran Viatge and had been rung to welcome home every ship and crew of every war, crisis, and national struggle the Republic had ever fought in its 373 years of Argic existence. Its corner pillars were borne by 77 hand-sculpted marble seraphs each bearing a nautical instrument used to carry the Iberic exodus to the shores of the New Wurld. As half the belfry tower fell onto scattering citizens below, the rest of the missile deflected from its original target and spun into the Almirante Narro building in Block D of the Headwind Quarter, where Sotavento housed its centre for Naval Intelligence. --- Maria Vives-Deibassols, Contra-Almirante - Armada Intelligence Naval Intelligence Attaché Office, Sotavento- Manille Maritime Command "Where did the building go?", was the Rear Admiral's first thought after a deafening screech outside led to an ear-splitting bang that did the windows in and made the floor give way. There had followed a dull thump on her head which had brought a fuzzy, throbbing sort of sleep. Maria thought the same thing again, followed by, "Why am I prone?", as she stirred. She coughed, a puff of dust blooming out from in front of her mouth. It was dark. Power had gone out. Still, she could see some. There seemed to be some dim lights from the sky which came and went erratically. An attack. Despite being smacked on the head by a falling section of the ceiling, the Contra-Almirante realised that it was very obviously, an attempt at a saturation missile attack. Scheduled perfectly to coincide with a time when Manille's airspace and air controllers were constipated and clogged with more contacts than lice on a street mutt. "Clever fucking bastards", she muttered to no one in particular. The delayed intel she and Teniente had been 36-hours old—which was the slimmest time gap to get set for a stand-off strike package delivered by naval assets jumping off from Koudish ports. If she had to guess, Armada Home Shore Command stations in Nou Stille had been hit first, with cruise missiles on GPS guidance slipping in with the vectors of most civilian traffic approaches... and/or with the boom and zoom air show demonstrations scheduled to take place around this hour. With the staffing issues the Armada faced in Manille during the Fleet Week, this was pretty much the only time an adversary had a pussyhair of a chance at getting away with something as bold as this. It was probable that the submarines Rico had shown her in some IMINT shots taken with a Koudish asset's jacket-concealed Point-and-shoot were the very same ones launching the strike packages at them. That narrowed down the ordnance they were being attacked with to a select few sub-launched options guided by GPS through all courses to make manoeuvres as tight and specific as executed, ones which could be countered easily, even en-masse by certain air defence options. The thoughts raced by with a mixture of excitement and alarm coursing through her head, despite the ridiculously dangerous physical situation she was in. She knew that given the staffing issues, Sector Air Defence Command, if it was still standing (Auxiliary SADC in Block G if it wasn't) could probably do with a quick update to their intel cycle. She and Rico might need to head over ASAP. Shit. Rico. She tried to get up—she jerked back startled, bringing more pain. Something had her arm in a vice-grip. Through the dimness, she could make out a chunk of... Masonry? Stunned for a moment, she tilted her head ceilingward. Except there was no ceiling, just the open sky—lit with the occasional flash of something detonating high above. The Almirante Narro building was gone. She looked around, everywhere she could make out some shapes of tumbled masonry. They may have fallen through, to the basement. Where was Rico? The thought of her young aide crushed under a few hundred pounds of old stone gave her an adrenaline shot of energy. She called out. No response. Far overhead, out of the ruined basement pit they were in, she heard the faint sound of a siren, then the muffled crump of a detonation. The ground trembled slightly. Just then, she heard a rumble of stone-on-stone. She looked to her right, just there on the side of where the basement wall should have been, was a slope created by a collapsed section of wall. The slope was angled downward, directly at her. Perched above it, precariously close to tipping over and down the slope, was a slab some 4 metres wide and 3 metres long. It was thick, single-cast cement and every so often, as another explosion shook the ground, it trembled and slid a few inches closer to sliding down the rubble slope and straight at her. Oh fuck. No. She called out again, breathing hard now. No response. Gathering her strength, she tightened her core and brought her legs around to face the rubble pinning her right arm down. Still prone and unable to stand properly, she got into a sitting position. She was 52 but her religious PT regimen, calcium treatments, and extensive vitamin supplements had made her stronger and more durable than a dowdy middle-aged housewife. She tensed her core and back, then kicked with both feet at the rubble. Searing pain ripped through her forearm as the stone, evidently part of the building's stylised eaves, scrapped over her arm. It freed her elbow some. The part of her forearm she saw did not look good. It was a sickly blue, bruised, crushed and numb. Only when she saw it did a bout of agony rip through her. Mind-numbing, pain. She writhed and thrashed on the ground, nearly biting her tongue off as she let off a string of shouts, which quickly gave way to manic laughter as she realised how idiotically fucked the situation was. Over the next few minutes, the CO of the Armada's Sotavento intelligence office composed herself and tried shifting the stone eave off. Though painful and desperate, the efforts were futile. Contra-Almirante Vives had already looked around her in her limited reach. Pinned by the rubble, she could only reach about 2 and a half metres around her at most, with her feet. There was a long length of rebar just tantalisingly out of reach—with it, she could probably lever off the heavy stone. She wanted to weep in frustration. There was nothing around her reachable circle but some pebbles, her uniform coat, and the letter opener from her desk. She glanced at the letter opener, then at her elbow. She tested the letter opener. It was sharp enough. She liked to keep it fit as a razor given the thicker plastics some despatches arrived in. She worked quickly, keeping the thought of what she had to do away from her mind. From experience, Maria knew that the more you lingered on something unpleasant, the more likely you'd baulk when it came time for it. Ripping away at her wool cloak, she made a long loop of fabric and secured it painfully tight around her right arm. She tensed her core once more and readied her shoulders. Biting down on the rest of her coat, she twisted her torso against her elbow's range of motion. Blood seemed to drain from her brain. She fought against the darkness swimming at the edge of her vision as she screamed into the wool of the coat, biting so hard her teeth hurt. When she regained control of herself, she assessed the elbow. A clean dislocation. She didn't wait because the pain would only get worse. She tightened the tourniquet around her right bicep some more and brought the letter opener down with her left hand. She sliced up and down as quickly and forcefully as she could while pulling back to keep the arm taught. With a sudden jerk back, the Admiral was free. She fell backwards and her vision faded to black. Unsure if she was dreaming, somewhere between consciousness and delirium, she heard the long rasp and scrape of the slab finally sliding down the slope to finish her off. She thought about her niece, still recovering in the hospital, hoping she'd be spared. She hoped Rico wasn't smashed to pieces and that he'd figure out what to do without her. --- OOC: One last part after this, and the short story "Classenalia" is over.
  6. The Desert Spear | Iverican Forces Preparations: Operation Adlas Between September of 2022 and June of 2023 Several military facilities in Iverica, Pharos Island in Corinium, Ferrefaaierhafen in Variota Estaria City in Ceris, Diego Gracias Armada Base in the GAOT, Aroer & Mahanaim in Bashan 201,600,000 Two-hundred and one million, six-hundred thousand personnel hours, plus change. Operation Adlas. That is what it took the Joint Armed Service Lift and Organisational Corps to execute the mere preparatory operation making one constituent force ready for what was to be the single largest full-scale multinational operation since the Argic Wars. To ferry over one-hundred and twenty-thousand men, several million tonnes of equipment, over forty-thousand FedCom volunteers, and another score million tonnes of food, construction material, medical supplies, clothing, and everything needed to supply what was effectively, a small civilisation on the move and at war. Carrying the host of men and material was done over the Adlantic backs of six specially designed "Strategic Lift & Landing Support" vessels modified from hulls of an aircraft carrier class previously modified from an ocean liner hull and rapidly converted for military use. Carrying six thousand troops, two battalions worth of armoured vehicles, 6 landing craft, and an uncountable mass of supply tonnage per trip, the SLLS "Adlantic-classes" were cousins of the Federation-class carriers. They were the largest military supply ships by dimension and tonnage to ever go underway on Eurth's oceans. Despite their efficiency, they could not handle the sheer volume of men and material on their own. They were assisted by 51 ships of the Armada Sea Lift Command bolstered by the 38 reactivated ships of the Civil Mariner Irregular Fleet. Flotillas of transfer docks, mobile bases, flo-flo, dry goods cargo, fluid cargo, aircraft transport, ocean tugs, oilers, and underway replenishment ships made the trip halfway around the wurld on tight timetables. From September 2022 to April 2022, an additional four hundred thousand man-hours were spent maintaining the ships on Armada Overseas bases in Estaria, Diego Gracias, and Pharos Island. It was not uncommon for Sustainment and Strategic Lift personnel to work 48-hour shifts during the operation. The sanity of these men and women and their continued efficient service was owed largely to the completion of the activated reserve's influx of personnel leaving their private sector jobs temporarily to lend labour to the effort. Further assisted by the RAS's point-to-point logistic structure and datalink-centred logistic trackers, the operation proceeded with minimal incidences and minimal loss of life from acts of God or other untoward incidences caused by human fatigue - the casualties of Adlas. Though exhausted, the office pencil-pushers, the forklift-certified grunts, the cargo pilots, the crews, the data-entry flunkies, the accountants, actuaries, maintainers, train crew, truck drivers, loadmasters, logistics managers- and anyone else normally derided as a silly fat POG (exception of pilots and crews) pushed together. They were highly motivated after the Anglian Raid on Manille, which had claimed civilian, sailor, and pilot lives alike. It was not combat but it was their fight, their war. They fought one of the greatest logistics wars in history... and won. At the end of the war, many would inquire, mockingly: "Where were you, when we breached the coastal wall at the Cape of The Scisinou Peninsula? How many friends did you lose during the Anglian counter-attack in Operation Othello? When we crossed the pass at Pèirtapla, that narrow gate called the flooded altars, what were you doing? Or when we charged with thunder, the run to Taren, where were you in the column?" In response, a man, anonymous and unknown, is said to have smiled and returned words that would go down in history as the retort of the men and women of Operation Adlas: "With what munitions, was that wall breached with? Composition C, Lot ZS 31B-9054? I carried that five-thousand miles in a single flight, another inventoried that and a thousand just like it on the 43rd hour of a week without sleep and then inventoried the interceptor that shot down the missile that would have sunk the Carrier Deiargon on Othello. When you crossed Pèirtapla, what did you eat? Vacuum-sealed Menu 24? Or was it fresh beef and potatoes? I knew the crew on the ship that brought it to the Theatre Supply Distribution Centre, they were down 2 diesels during the voyage and short 20 crew - they used daisy-chained gensets to keep the freezers running, then lost a man to an unsecured mooring line when they made port. On the Thunder Run to Taren were you running on fumes? Or was it Level 6 Diesel with 1 part-per-million impurity level in your tank? The 147th lost a dozen men to a pipeline rupture getting that there. That's where I was and those are the people I served my war with so you could survive yours. Fuck off, cunt." By June, camps and warehouses in Bashan were stacked. A hundred thousand spreadsheets were clean and itemised. Primary supply and lift objectives were complete while secondary and tertiary priorities were within acceptable completion margins. To some, the war was cordite and kevlar. To others, it was spreadsheets and supplies. The former could never even have started without the latter. It was Operation Adlas and decades from when the flags of the free wurld were planted on Godstone's Imperial Palace, the men and women who helped make it happen would wear their distinct decoration proudly on V-Day parades, a single gold service medal upon which is minted the figure of Adlas, lifting the wurld. The Operation Adlas Service Medal Operation Adlas Ribbon Bar
  7. I think you should focus on your current requests and territories outside your country that are on the map but with no wiki or RP first. Let's put a pin on this until the appropriate content is out out
  8. I didn't have much else to add after you clarified your points. Perhaps one item from me is that maybe this would be clearer if we had a timeline attached to the major junctures of the paths in the map? If feedback would help, this is what I would suggest if pressed to comment. So long as the population is sparse by the modern era, its previous status should not impact recent history involving it much. Ease of subjugation or whatnot was not my concern. I just had no clear idea when to expect or consider if we would have intersected there. I saw the endpoint of the arrow on the map and thought we might. Since we won't, I do not think there will be any historical friction there between our states in that region (Monran). It would depend on how diplomacy plays out - if the Orinese Empire attempts a permanent mission or any considerable effort to maintain communication. On a side note, my first memory of that edit was a peaceful meeting, sans cannon fire Let me know if there's anything else we can discuss for any junctures where we might interact here.
  9. Approved! Likewise glad we could have a win-win @Baltica it was fun creating on the wiki lore for it and the lazy flag (totally not just Baltica, Keelpijp, and Aloorian colours). Cheers
  10. @Poja OOC: It's usually implied that some months were spent talking about this before the Sec-Gen sends this letter. The mentioned state visit does not have to be RP'd unless explicitly requested (given the long to-do list for the Anglian conflict, I don't think this will be feasible any time soon for any member to RP anyway). To summarise, it would be a 2-3 day affair. With the Sec-Gen and any accompanying council members or member HoS to visit the new Partner, tour facilities, inspect equipment or formations, etc etc.
  11. @Ahrana, Clearly, you'll get a similar response as the other applications- straight from the Sec-Gen if you'd enclosed a name and office. TRIDENT wont know who exactly this is from. So they can't do much. There's no address or signature, which is the minimum we're asking for in a formal exchange of letters.
  12. Hey Ghant, following up on what the others have said, the stat system is mentioned in Step 7 and further within the link in Step 9
  13. Tagging @Gallambria, @Tagmatium Rules, @Gaellicia, @Neswetej Per Aten, @Advocatius I would like to have this out so we can better coordinate our writing. I've been working on building the details on REDFOR ORBAT, the battlespace details (mobility corridors, etc), and other nuances but I'll have to share them later down the line as it's currently quite messy. For now, I've come up with this outline based on Gal's Desert Spear posts and our prior discussions: GDOC: Operation Lear OOC Outline
  14. Where Iverica is concerned, I suppose I'd have questions about the timeline of your Northern route. 1. Isla Monarca Current lore suggests that Isla Monarca (a.k.a. New Beautancus) was previously Terra Nullius from the early modern period and sparsely inhabited before that. I would be interested in finding out how we can fit that in. 2. Monran The next point would be the presence of Orinese interests in the Monran. If this happened early, (late 1600s) the plausible friction with the early Iverican Navy would have probably resulted in Iverica's colonial expansion southward being slowed or reduced by a significant margin. If it happened later on (post Iberic-Soluk War), the chances are that a major naval engagement would have ensued. That would end in either Orinese interests being diminished or the Iverican Armada being defeated and its influence in the New Wurld being curtailed thereafter – going back to the consequences of the earlier point, albeit later on. It may seem like a stretch to immediately assume that conflict would arise, but given the jostling for trade routes and influence, friction is more likely the case than peace. I would imagine that neither side would want to take a compromise and split profits/influence while the big stick option exists. 3. Colonial holdings In any case, the presence of a powerful old wurld navy would certainly affect how Iverica would have gone through its colonial era. Holdings in Cashar, Sefesia, and the former territory of Maurividiah would be notable cases.
  15. This is alright with me. Unless any stakeholders of Sefesia in Aurelia have anything to say? Otherwise, I'm flexible with its neighbours and location.
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