war The Pelican and the Raven

[Florentia]

The Pelican and the Raven

 

Scene 1,
Free Cashari Federation,
On the banks of the Saint Elme River,
23/12/2022, 8h56

Degatana looks across the river with concern. On the other side is Florentia, the land of white men, or the "land under white occupation" as Ms Pacereau, the president, likes to call it. On the other side, behind the barbed wire, the sandbags and the calm waters of the Saint-Elme river, he can see two members of the militia of the Narizonian party, the Free Lysian Action, recognisable by their white armbands with the infamous orange blossom sewn on.

Degatana looks away briefly to replace his weapon properly. He still hasn't got used to the weight of his assault rifle. It is only two weeks since he joined the national militia. Although he is proud to defend his brothers and sisters, standing in the mud and humidity looking strangers in the eye is not the most exciting activity.

- Degatana!

He turns around. Another militiaman is facing him.

- I'll take over.
- Thank you.

The latter taps him on the shoulder. Degatana waves to him and heads for the camp. Hidden in a dense grove, the camp has been set up on a small hill to avoid being flooded by the regular winter rains. The situation, though tense, is calm. Most of the time, the officers, and militiamen just wait for orders from the hierarchy, and spend their time cleaning the equipment on site. Degatana likes to kill time by carving a small wooden flute. He enters one of the tents, the one where his bunk is located. He takes his almost flute, his knife, and goes out to continue his meticulous work. He learned this technique from his father. Then the Cashari remembered his childhood spent running around in the tobacco fields, still full of innocence, before this feeling of happiness was cut short when he had to work in these same fields. They were far from good memories. And yet! He was lucky to be in Yalme, a relatively tolerant state. Degatana had heard of the horrors taking place in Narizonia and Abalavier. There were even public hangings of disobedient slaves, it was said!

 

Scene 2,
Free Cashari Federation,
Dehaze Bridge, on the Saint Elme River,
04/01/2022, 15h24

- For the sake of the Thunderbird, I tell you again: this is madness!
- You are trying my patience, soldier.

Corporal Yona Bedort, an efficient but also austere and stubborn commander, replies curtly. Degatana tries to hold his gaze, but ends up lowering his eyes, pitifully.

- Sorry, Corporal.
- I like that better.

She turns to the rest of the squad.

- We're going ahead with the plan as planned: we cross the bridge, we play it very carefully, and we find the refugee. Then, we leave as fast as possible : remember that it is Lysian territory.

Two-thirds of the squad start to move onto the bridge, while the rest are hidden, covering the explorers. The militiamen arrive at the other side, where there is a village abandoned because of the war. Most of the buildings are dilapidated and made of wood, all built slightly in high because of the frequent flooding in winter. The militiamen keep their eyes open. They have received a report that a Cashari, having tried to reach the border alone, is seriously injured and has taken refuge in this village.

Despite the militia's efforts to be discreet, the mud sticks to their boots, making their efforts almost useless. It was then that Degatana, who had stayed behind, almost panicked when he saw a Narizonian militiaman hiding in a house.

- Corporal, Lysian at 5 o'clock, in the house. He is alone and armed.

She signals the other explorers to stop.

- Do you have a window of opportunity?

- Affirmative.

- Is he holding the refugee ?

- I don't see him.

Yona signals the other militiamen to approach the house slowly.

- You are surrounded! Surrender immediately. There are ten of us, and reinforcements will arrive soon.

Yona lied. There are only six of them, and no reinforcements will arrive. However, she wants to avoid bloodshed, which could have serious diplomatic repercussions. After a long, tense silence, the Narizonian finally answers.

- That's it! I surrender. Don't shoot, please.

Very slowly, the front door opens. A hand comes out, and then a whole body gradually falls out of the frame. The militiaman has both hands up, but the wall hides his right hand.

- Unveil your right hand.

Yona orders with authority, fearing a nasty surprise. The Narizonian does not react, continuing to stare at her fearfully.

- Your right hand! NOW.

Another silence. Yona becomes impatient. So she slowly approaches him, pointing her weapon at him. Barely four meters separate them. Suddenly, he rushes at the corporal, his right hand holding a grenade with the pin pulled.

- FOR THE FATHERL-

The Florentian is interrupted by the explosion, killing him instantly. The militiamen, including Yona, barely had time to react. The corporal, thrown to the ground, has her ears ringing. As she gradually regains her senses, an excruciating pain pierces her lower body. As she tries to stand up, she is unable to do so, barely managing to hold herself up with her arms. Then she realises the problem: she has no legs any more. The pain is such that not even tears come, the corporal can only writhe in the mud like a worm, cut in two, slowly dying. Despite her wet hairs covering her face, she can see the other members of the squad rushing to her side, while the Florentian's body, half-burned by the explosion, lies face down.

Yona faints, overwhelmed by too much pain for one person. The operation is a disaster.

[Florentia]

The Pelican and the Raven

 

Scene 3,
Free Cashari Federation,
Near the Saint Elme river,
05/01/2023, 20h02

- "…militiamen, lured into a trap by the Florentian army, were victims of a suicide mission. Another proof that the Lysian leaders know no ethics, sacrificing their own soldiers. This is why, faced with the Florentian Empire's declaration of war and by virtue of the powers conferred upon me, I declare total mobilization…"

- But she is wrong!

Degatana exclaims, covering Ms. Pacereau's speech on the radio. The other militiamen glare at him, not having been able to hear a sentence of the speech correctly because of Degatana. When the speech is finished, a militiaman turns off the radio. Degatana continues:

- Do we agree that there is no proof that the soldier's suicide action was planned? In fact, it is clearly an act of desperation.
- We also have no proof of the opposite, retorts a militiaman named Waya. And I remind you that you joined the militia less than a month ago: you have almost no experience.

Another militiaman, named Unaduti, nods in agreement. His first name, meaning "woolly head", fits him well because of his grey hair whose curls are unusual among the Casharis. He adds:

- I myself participated in the war of independence, and the Lysians will do anything to steal our land, even to sacrifice their own brothers. I am not surprised by such methods as the suicide operation, although this is their first time.
- But there is a big difference between being determined and explicitly ordering your soldiers to commit suicide. Sure, they treat us like livestock, but they don't do the same to each other. I don't see wh-
- Silence!" orders Unaduti. You know nothing about their methods. I fought them. I know the reality of things. Do I have to remind you that you owe respect to the elders?
- Sorry, Unaduti.

He said, lowering his head, revealing his neck as a sign of deference. Unaduti pats the back of Degatana's neck, signifying his forgiveness. This is a common tradition among Cashari tribes when a young person disrespects an elder. The elder beckons him to raise his head.

- That's fine for this time.
- Thank you, Unaduti.

Tomorrow, the local squad will be sent to the Gila refugee camp on the northeast border to evacuate them to camps further inland.

 

Even after the armistice ended, neither side dared to attack first. The Federation adopted a defensive strategy, relying on the many wetlands to slow down the Florentian army. For its part, the Florentian army was still struggling to adapt to the newly arrived Haru equipment. This had the effect of delaying the plan that had been carefully prepared for two years already. The plan in question consisted of a surgical strike: artillery fire to disrupt enemy lines and supplies, a sprint to urban centers and supply points, and the capture of the capital and the Cashari government. It aims to avoid as much as possible civilian and material losses, as well as to limit the negative impact on the international scene. This is what it says on paper.

In reality, the Florentian army having been accustomed to equipment at least twenty years older than that delivered from Haruspex, and incompetence being widespread in the General Staff - officers being chosen for their name more than for their skills - shots are often imprecise. Nevertheless, the infantry was sent to the front. Most of the imperial army was sent to the south-western front, closest to the Cashari capital, in order to capture it as soon as possible. Although it was better defended, the numerical inferiority of the Casharis and their lack of equipment quickly made them retreat. In the first few days, the Florentian soldiers advanced several dozen kilometers. In spite of the problems of organization, in spite of the new material, in spite of the dissidences of the local armies, all seemed to proceed as well as possible.

A few days was enough time for a resistance to be organized in the Florentian controlled Casharis territories. The Florentians were harassed by the local population, their supply lines were sabotaged, which slowed down their advance considerably and sometimes forced them to retreat. Finally, after a week of intense fighting, the situation stabilized around December 16. No major city had been captured, and several dozen Florentians had already been killed. Moreover, the conquered territories were unstable and required a military presence, which the imperial army took care of, fearing that the local militias and armies would "pacify" the situation in their own way. The Florentian reconquest was going to be tough.

[Florentia]

The Pelican and the Raven

 

Scene 4,
Confederate States of Florenia,
Colonial Governorate of Sademi-Mikura,
20 August 2022, 16h03,



Ceded in the 19th century by the Esonian government in response to Florentian pressure, the port of Sademi has now become a popular seaside resort among the middle class of Belleville. Crouching on the beach, a three-quarter empty soda bottle in his hand, Daiki looks out at the ocean. The skyline is broken by an oversized liner passing behind the local torii. It is slowly making its way towards the harbour, belching out huge wisps of smoke, to drop off many Florentians who have come to enjoy the 'local exoticism'. The beach is covered with a thick layer of tourists lying nonchalantly on their towels, sheltered under their umbrellas, while in between them hawkers skilfully make their way, shouting their wares. Most of them sell ice cream, sodas, alcohol, sandwiches, but also Esonian snacks redesigned to please the Lysians.

The young man gets up to sit at the beach bar, the " Rayon Ensoleillé ", a small wooden shanty set directly on the sand. To his left, a man slumped against the zinc starts his third glass of bourbon. To his right, a child pesters his mother for a second ice cream. On the counter, next to the soda menu, a radio plays " Sous le soleil Sademian ", the latest summer song in vogue. The barman sighs: this is the sixth time since the beginning of the day that the radio station has played the song. It's a good thing the Florentian tourists like it, otherwise the radio would have been turned off already. Back to Daiki, huge concrete hotels and flats stand along the beach. Most of them were built in the 1950s and the owners are reluctant to invest heavily in renovating them. These buildings would probably be in ruins if the colonial government did not force certain standards to be respected in order to preserve local tourism.

Daiki finishes his can in one gulp. The overly sweet taste and the throat-wrenching bubbles don't take away the bitterness he feels inside. His aunt Rini, who lives in Belleville with her nine-year-old son Yogi, broke her leg in an accident at work. In order to take care of her, Daiki and his parents are forced to move into Rini's flat to look after her. Daiki will have to leave all his friends behind! Fortunately, they will be able to keep in touch through social networks, but it won't be the same. The young man gets up, carefully throws his can in a bin and walks with a determined step towards his flat.

 

~~~~~

O Belleville! Home of industrialists, financers and intellectuals. A city full of opportunities and dynamism, priding itself on being the lungs of Florentia, the "Star of the South".
O Belleville! Home of mafiosos, drunks and prostitutes. A city bloated with corruption and misery, blaming itself for being the Florentian brothel, "the Sodom and Gomorrah of the South".

Indeed, the "fantastic Belleville" is a place of contrasts. The city centre is full of art deco skyscrapers, with a chic and modern - at least by Florantian aesthetic standards - marina, with a nearby Lysian colonial-style district where the Javiosian parliament and palace are located. These areas are very touristy, so expensive souvenir shops, hotels and luxury cabarets abound. Apart from fancy flats, most of the buildings are office buildings where the local middle class works hard.

 

However, as you move away to the suburbs, you come across neighbourhoods that mix colonial architecture with small mid-19th century flats. These districts are inhabited by the average Bellevillian who drinks his bourbon at the corner bistro and takes the tram every morning to work in the downtown offices. Far from the big cabarets of the city centre, it is also where you can find many concert cafés where small R'n'B and jazz bands perform. In this close suburb lies 'Little Esonice', a neighbourhood in which the majority of Esonian immigrants, mostly from the Florentian colonies, are concentrated. While the architectural style is broadly similar, there is the occasional temple, some Esonian-inspired buildings, and many shops that would normally be found in Esonice.

 

If you go further away, you reach the working-class neighbourhoods. They are organic, dilapidated and scattered with small slums. These are often clustered around industrial sites, in the hope of getting a job there. It is risky to venture into such areas. Indeed, the police work almost openly with the Esonian and Cashari mafias and prefer to leave these areas to them. Thus, drug trafficking and prostitution are commonplace. An aimless youth hangs out there, and the only future offered to them by the fantastic Belleville is the factory or crime. Sometimes, in the evening, if you listen carefully, you can hear some musician wailing a blues, with despair on his trumpet.

This is Belleville, a multifaceted metropolis that eight million souls call home.

 

~~~~~

 

29 January 2023

Dear parents,

It has been a while since I last wrote to you and I apologise. I haven't had time to write to you because of the January offensive and, for obvious security reasons, the use of smartphones is forbidden even at rest.

I hope you are well and that health is on your side. How is Auntie Rini's rehabilitation going? Apparently soldiers are given priority in hospitals but, Belleville being far from the front, I suppose Rini can continue her rehabilitation without being disturbed. I received the letter about your raise, Dad. Congrats! I told you they would realise that you are very competent.

From my side, it could be better. The equipment is very heavy, I'm not used to it. But I feel like I'm getting better little by little, so that's reassuring. The rations always contain the same thing, to the point where I know the contents by heart. The advantage is that if I am missing something, I know it. I'm getting seriously fed up with their cassoulet and I miss your curry, Mum. But I don't have a say in the rations.

The sergeant - de Lavoin, as he is called - is quite an idiot, not to say an insult. It is said that he has been promoted because his father is an officer. And then they wonder why we're having trouble winning the war. Fortunately, I made a friend. He is another soldier, also a conscript. His name is Alphonse Haimeud and he comes from Tyronia. Did you know that in Tyronia they eat boiled peanuts? I learned it from him and, according to what he says, it is simple but good. I promised him to try it when it's all over.

(The passages in brackets are for adults only, Yogi must not know about them. The soil in Narizonia is swampy as can be, you're always walking in the mud and it rains almost every day. Moisture seeps in everywhere. It damages the equipment, numbs the body, freezes the blood. It's very rough. And still it's nothing compared to what I did. Seeing someone being killed is one thing, but killing someone is another. In the moment it's okay because I have adrenaline, I'm afraid to die first. It's just a survival reflex. However, it's when I'm on a break that I think about it, telling myself that I've taken someone's life, and I can't even remember their face. With the bombing, you can also see pieces of dead guys. The first time I vomited.)

(I know for a fact that we are the bad guys in the story. This war is wearing me down.)

All in all, I'm doing pretty well. Take care of yourselves. Love to you, Rini and Yogi.

See you soon,
Daiki

 

(OOC : I heavely thank @Esonice for helping me with Sademi and Mikura despite being last of the priority list.)

Edited February 9 by Florentia (see edit history)

[Florentia]

The Pelican and the Raven

 

Scene 5,
Confederate States of Florentia,
Montcharmin, Imperial capital city,
08/01/2023, 20h57

The Most Serene Plaza, paved with high-quality marble, is a semicircle from which three avenues lead off: the Most Serene Avenue, the Boulevard of Eternal Glory and the Boulevard of Saint Elme. The square is dominated at its centre by a huge seven-metre high statue in gilded bronze, which itself stands on a two-metre high black marble base. The statue represents the imperial pelican, with a warlike expression and a bulging bust. In one of its talons it holds the lightning bolts of the Holy Lord, symbolising the Emperor's divine right to rule Florentia. In the pelican's mouth is a glube, a metaphor for the Empire's imperialist ambitions.

On the edge of this grandiose square is the imperial palace, nicknamed the "pelican's nest", where the entire imperial family resides. An archetype of antebellum architecture, the grandiose facade is visible from the entire Avenue of Eternal Glory. A splendidly uniformed imperial guard, armed with sabres and wearing bicorns, stands along a high, dangerously pointed gate, so sharp that one could easily impale oneself on it while trying to pass through. The entrance to the building consists of a dozen colonnades supporting a facade on which a fresco is carved. This depicts two scenes around the Florentine pelican. In the first, he holds out a crucifix to the Cashari raven, a symbol of the attempts to convert the Cashari people. In the second, he establishes his dominance over the imperial colonies, i.e. the Esonian ports, Ocraly and Fasaìl, represented respectively by a red panda, a donkey and a wolf.

Construction of the palace began in 1812 and was not completed until 1855 due to the scale of the project, shortly before the civil war. It is a miracle that it survived unscathed. Since then, it has represented the country's former glory, before everything started to fall apart.

"Our country is falling apart, it is losing its intrinsic values little by little. By giving rights to the slaves, we have made them lazy and unruly. The revolt in Narizonia is proof of this.

When I come to the throne, my first measure will be to settle the Cashari problem once and for all. Florentia cannot solve this problem alone, but with the help of a major power. Anglie is the perfect candidate: a rising star, it has succeeded in securing its dominance in Europa, and it is only a matter of time before the new wurld follows suit. With Anglia, Florentia will be able to reclaim its rightful role as a major power."

As the Emperor reads the article, his hands tremble more and more, until he is forced to put the paper in his lap so as not to drop it. Since his incident, caused by Parkinson's disease, his physical weakness has only increased, forcing him to use a wheelchair. Slumped in front of the bay window, he can see the private gardens behind the palace from his room. As he nears the end of his life, all the luxuries of his vast personal appartment seem futile. The Emperor has never felt so diminished, so humiliated. But this feeling is even greater on this day.

While he has always worked, within the limits of his powers, to have the States and the Senate grant more rights to the Casharis and Esonians, here his son is in danger of throwing it all out the window, setting the country back 150 years. Perhaps he had been too weak against the nobility? The nobility, staunch supporters of slavery, have long ruled the Senate. Only a few exceptions occasionally gain access, such as the liberal Désiré de Belleville, the current chancellor, or Hugo Dellague, a radical progressive.

The Comtoise clock, finely carved from exotic Mesothalassian wood and whose cuckoo clock is a gold pelican inlaid with sapphire, strikes 9 p.m.

"It's time to go to bed," Ambroise murmurs as he crawls painfully under his blanket. He closes his eyes in the mad hope that, the next day, all the problems will have disappeared. The hope of finally being at peace.

 

Scene 6,
Confederate States of Florentia,
Montcharmin, Imperial capital city,
22/01/2023, 15h02

The Emperor is dead. Peacefully, in his sleep, his heart stopped beating. What everyone feared feverishly without daring to speak the name has finally happened. On this day, the funeral of Ambrose III takes place. A long procession, starting from the imperial palace, continues on foot through the city centre to the Cathedral of Notre-Dame de Montcharmin. It is composed of the entire imperial family, senators, governors and leading members of the nobility, as well as most of the Louvian royal family, invited by the Florentian government because of dynastic ties. Along the way, the crowd watched the spectacle, separated by metal barriers set up for the occasion. Many of them burst into tears. Others stand upright and solemn.

After entering the cathedral, all the guests sit in the benches, with the imperial family in the front row. The Bishop of Montcharmin, Father Pierre-André, climbs onto the platform and taps on his microphone to check that it is properly adjusted. He delivers a sermon and a few kind words before indicating to the guests to come and gather one by one beside the coffin of the deceased. The coffin, placed right in front of the platform, is opened, revealing the Emperor. It has been a long time since we have seen him so peaceful. One by one, the guests stand up. Some just look at him, more or less long. Some kiss his forehead or his right hand. Others break down in tears. Or some make a sign of the cross and a bow. Then the coffin is closed and carried to the imperial crypt, where all previous emperors are buried.

Exceptionally, because of the parallel war against the Federation, the Senate decided to organise the burial of Ambrose III and the coronation of Prince Celestin on the same day, in order to avoid increasing the risk of a Casharis terrorist attack. In a most solemn moment, the orchestra begins to play "L'Impériale", the imperial anthem and former national anthem. Celestin go on the stage and the bishop presented him with the imperial attributes: the lightning bolts of God, symbolising the Emperor's divine right to rule, and the imperial sceptre on top of which is perched the pelican devouring the wurld. The Prince is crowned Emperor Celestin III of Florentia. Applause breaks out, resounding from the nobility, but timid from the imperial family, worried about a pro-Anglia reactionary taking the throne.

Emperor Célestin III of Florentia

A quarter of an hour later, after delivering the imperial sermon and making a speech, the new Emperor exits, followed by his wife, the imperial family and the rest of the procession, before boarding the imperial car. Finished in 1959, the Elysée Zelph was a special order of Emperor Florent I. Eight metres long, it is very inconvenient to drive and is therefore reserved for special occasions.

Imperial car "Zelph", from the imperial car brand Elysée

As the Emperor greets his subjects, heading for the imperial palace, a man with a gun emerges from the crowd and, taking advantage of the stupor effect, has time to fire three bullets at the Emperor, shouting "Death to the traitor", in reference to Celestin III's alignment with Anglia. Although the assassin was quickly subdued, it was too late for the new Emperor, and his reign had just ended. Surprisingly, the crowd, instead of booing the assassin, congratulates him, characterising his act as 'patriotic'. While the new Empress weeps loudly and the nobility is outraged, the imperial family rejoices inwardly.

 

 

As Celestin never had a child, the crown fell to Prince Ambroise-Alexandre. So preparations were made for the new coronation, which took place on 2 February 2023, again with the Louvian royal family present. This time, everything went wonderfully well, and the one nicknamed the "great Prince of the little people" became the "great Emperor of the little people". Indeed, this nickname had been given to him because Ambroise-Alexandre always enjoyed walking through the streets of Montcharmin and mingling with the crowd, chatting with people, sometimes even getting them into the imperial car, much to the displeasure of the royal family. His marriage to a commoner, Rosie Bellysis, and a cabaret dancer at that, definitely sealed his nickname, giving all the young women of Florentia fairy-tale fantasies, while scandalising most of the aristocracy.

Emperor Ambroise IV of Florentia

Empress Rosie of Florentia

Edited March 31 by Florentia
Typo errors. (see edit history)

[Florentia]

The Pelican and the Raven

Scene 7,
Confederate States of Florentia,
Montcharmin, Imperial capital city,
05/02/2023, 22h24

Hugo Lysandre "Lys" Dellague is a man of 30 years of age and slightly above average height, a nice 1,79 meters, with a slender and flexible appearance, like a cut branch in which the sap is still circulating. On his face, a cunning, almost feline air noticeably sparkles with an extravagant madness that sometimes bursts into intense, emphasized verses. His style of dress, a hundred years behind the wurld, consists of a royal blue suit with tails and braces, white shirts imported directly from Lysia, and black and white shoes. Of course, this is always accompanied by a tie and a hat, in his case a borsalino, as every gentleman should. He could be described as a seemingly chic man who takes care of his appearance, but certainly not a snob. On the contrary!

Tonight, rain, wind and thunder are falling on Montcharmin. Standing on the balcony railing of the imperial appartment, swaying in the wind, nearly falling three floors down onto the stone floor several times, and shouting at the sky, Hugo euphorically expresses his admiration for the storm:

“- While elders call you a mess,
Blind to your almightiness,
Me, an imp, admire you
In this ruthless rendezvous.

I wish I could serenade
A symphony of your shade
As powerful as your winds,
As beautiful as your lights.

Your august vitality
Is a sign of greatness.
It is almost a duty
To love your tricky madn-

- Please, Lys, come inside... I wouldn't want you to catch pneumonia on your eighth day in office," Ambroise said from the balcony doorway, not daring to go and get it himself for fear of making him fall.

"Good! Good. I'm coming." Hugo climbed down from the railing and joined the Emperor in his appartment. Ambroise hands the Chancellor a towel to dry his clothes and his face. Hugo thanks him and does so, before putting the towel back in its place. The two friends each sit down on a chair.

"Concerning my draft constitution, Ambroise, I intend to put it to a referendum. I have the support of the peasants, the workers and the slaves.

- I will send the imperial guard to watch the polling stations, to prevent the provincial armies from putting any pressure. However, how do you intend to deal with the Senators, and the nobility in general?"

Hugo's smile widens into an ambiguous expression. He sneers slightly.

"You know my methods. The most problematic ones will mysteriously disappear. Did you know that pigs are particularly voracious when it comes to human flesh? I learned that in my... profession.

- It's not very ethical...

- Hey! You've always been perfectly aware that my money is covered in blood. And yet you were so happy when I covered the cost of building public schools in Bayave. Don't start becoming a hypocrite.

- Certainly...", replies Ambroise. Indeed, Hugo's fortune was built on the prohibition of alcohol in the states of Javiosie, Bayave and Yalme. Originally a simple bayou kid, having learned to read thanks to his religious education, his poverty quickly pushed him towards crime. Thanks to his ingenuity and his sometimes unpredictable character, he is now the head of the largest criminal organisation in the country. It is 'thanks' to him that the cabarets of Belleville still sell quality alcohol and that the police turn a blind eye. He regularly uses his personal fortune to improve the living conditions of the little people, giving everyone the opportunity to succeed in life, which greatly contributes to his popularity. Well... except among the elite who consider him a dangerous radical, an annoying insect that should be stomped out once and for all. Regularly, surprise searches take place at his home but never any clues, so he is released each time for lack of evidence. Hugo even managed to make the intensive investigation of his person look like harassment, a repression on the part of the elites, who definitely want to silence the "spokesman of the people".

"And aren't you afraid of someone trying to assassinate you?", asks the Emperor.

- Hah!" he exclaims. Let them come. My name is associated with the greatest collision of consciences, with an economic, social and political revolution. I go through the old principles as through butter, I judge them as one would judge condemned men to death, and I destroy them. I am not a man, I am dynamite", concludes Hugo Dellague with a determined, almost fanatical smile, which is so wide as to be disturbing.

Ambroise does not know what to say. Of course, this is not the first time Hugo has said such things, but it is difficult to get used to his strange moments of euphoria.

"Do you have any bourbon, by the way? I'm dying of thirst," he finally says, breaking the silence. "I'd like to show you the beginning of my constitution. You'll see, it's great. Every company will have to have a workers' union, slavery banned, racial equality guaranteed. Can you imagine? Florentia will finally be able to start its march towards happiness, universal happiness. And we will be their guides. Because that's what it's all about, Ambroise. That's what it's always been about: guaranteeing happiness, whatever the cost."

 

Edited April 1 by Florentia
Wrong meters to feet conversion. (see edit history)

[Florentia]

The Pelican and the Raven

 

Scene 8,
Free Cashari Federation,
Libreville, Federal capital city,
8/02/2023, 18h52

Tsula Passereaux is one of those powerful, independent women with great strength of mind. A distant descendant of the last chief of the Aniyunya tribe, the largest tribe in Florentia, she was an obvious choice for the Aniyunyans in tribal elections. She quickly became popular for her social rhetoric, pan-Cashari nationalism and anti-Europan revanchism, and her appointment as Federation President came as no surprise to anyone, despite slight opposition from radical Dagvans, their tribe having long been enemies of the Aniyunyans.

The gold and weapons reserves seized in the former capital of Narizonia - formerly named Horlantopolis in honour of the Narizon dictator Jeremiah Horlant, then renamed Libreville by the Casharis - allowed, after the armistice, the repair of infrastructures and the construction of social housing in order to decongest the refugee camps, which were increasingly full of slaves fleeing Florentia. The creation of a national militia was also one of Passereaux's important measures. The main goal is to train the Casharis in guerrilla techniques in order to make life difficult for the Florentian troops on the front line but also behind it. Furthermore, in case of a defeat, the Casharis can continue to harass the Florentians even after the war.

The federal government is run by a single parliament, the Tribal Assembly. It is composed of 12 elected members per tribe, for a total of 60 deputies, in order to represent all tribes equally: Aniyunya, Dagvan, Agali, Udyevdi and Tsunadad. Initially, it was suggested that 12 seats should be reserved for the Lysians, who make up 15% of the population. This question led to the formation of two groups: the supporters of Tsula Passereaux, who wanted to unite the island's tribes under a single banner and drive out the settlers; and the supporters of Woya Genève - whose first name meaning 'dove' is an indicator of her will - who wanted the creation of a peaceful society that also included the Lysians.

Unfortunately for Genève, the majority of the deputies leaned towards Passereaux because of the relationship with Florentia. Passereaux and her supporters considered that 'enemies of the nation' could not be trusted and that including Lysians in the government would be a danger to national security. This was the first step towards an increasingly harsh policy towards the Lysians, guided by revenge for their treatment. Lysians who have not fled are driven off their land, and buildings inhabited by Lysians are expropriated by the state. The Lysians are either forced to flee or to gather in ghettos. Although no such law was enacted, a segregation between the Casharis and the Lysians gradually took place, encouraged by the anti-Europan speeches of Passereaux. For the first time in a long time, the Casharis are tasting freedom, and most of them intend to take advantage of it at a full extent.

Today's session focuses on the integration of the many militias that emerged after the revolution into the National Militia, a militia directly run by the Ministry of Defence. These small, autocephalous militias are politicised, even radicalised, and cause instability. However, some are directly linked to certain tribes and, according to their leaders, only ensure that the central government does not oppress the tribe with which they are associated. This is why this measure proposed by Tsula Passereaux is causing some gnashing of teeth, although the general opinion is in favour. After hours of bitter debate, the vote finally took place: 43 votes against 17, the law was accepted.
When the President left parliament, many journalists were waiting for her, holding their microphones towards her. With a calm and confident look, Passereaux took the time to answer them :

"This measure is a necessity. We cannot afford to be divided when our first national danger is standing at our doorstep, ready to crush us. Bringing all the militias together under one umbrella will also allow for better coordination, both between the militians and with the federal armed forces. The key to our victory lies in unity.

When the interview is over, she gets into the presidential car and orders her driver to take her back to the presidential palace. The driver complies and starts the car. During the journey, Tsula looks out of the right-hand window on her side. She sighs. Since she has been in power, she has done her utmost to pursue an egalitarian policy between the tribes, despite her title as chief of the Aniyunyas, so as not to repeat the mistakes of the past. Indeed, if all the Casharis had been united against the Europan invaders for once, her people would never have had to suffer for more than two centuries. However, some people do not agree and continue to put obstacles in her way. While the vast majority of the natives appreciate Tsula, some radical groups are noisy. Especially among the Dagvans. Perhaps she should be more concerned about them... While she is lost in thought, the President notices a car coming from the right and speeding towards her. Tsula barely has time to understand the situation when the car is hit hard. Passers-by look on in horror, stopping due to morbid curiosity. The attacker, a pickup truck, is rammed deep into the right side of the sedan, while the dead terrorist's head lies on the steering wheel. An emergency medical team arrives after a few minutes, breaking the terrifying silence. The terrorist is dead. So is the driver of the presidential car. However, a miracle! Mrs Passereaux is still breathing but is in a coma. She was rushed to the nearest hospital, where her condition was stabilised. Now we just have to pray that she wakes up.

 

Scene 9,
Free Cashari Federation,
Libreville, Federal capital city,
25/02/2023, 20h17

She came out of her coma after less than 48 hours and apparently had no physical after-effects apart from a few scratches. This is miraculous. However, psychologically, it's not the same story. Since she woke up, Tsula has shut herself away in her presidential flat, refusing to talk to anyone. Indeed, the assassination attempt - the nature of which has been confirmed by the terrorist's links to a Dagvan nationalist group - has completely shaken the President. Tsula circles her office like a caged lioness. The curtains are closed and the darkness is barely penetrated by a small desk lamp. She talks to herself in a low voice, as if she were being monitored :

"I was right all along. Why didn't I listen to my instincts! But they won't get me. The proof is in the failed assassination attempt. I'm a Miracle, which means that the gods have protected me, and they will continue to protect me."

She pauses for a moment to think again, before continuing :

"They chose me. That must be it! The gods have chosen me to guide their followers, to protect the Casharis. I must confirm my theory."

Suddenly she opens the curtains and then the window before leaning in.

"O Raven creator of the wurld, if what I believe is true, then please send me a sign! Send me one of your fellow creature and I will carry out my task."

Tsula had barely finished her sentence when a raven landed on the window sill. At first she recoils, but then she moves closer, not daring to touch it. They stare at each other silently for several seconds, before the raven flies away and disappears. That's enough for Tsula. Staring at the sky, drunk with joy, she thanks the Raven god. From now on, Mrs. Passeraeux is more determined than ever to free her people, no matter the cost.

 

Scene 10,
Free Cashari Federation,
Libreville, Federal capital city,
27/02/2023, 10h03

The Council of Ministers takes place in one of the rooms of the presidential palace. The antebellum walls were once covered with tapestries glorifying the Florentian colonisation, but these pieces were burnt during the revolution. All the ministers are seated along a rectangular table. Tsula Passereaux is standing at the end of the table with both hands on the furniture.

"I have prolonged my absence and I apologise, but I needed it to recover from the event."

A murmur of understanding spreads among the ministers.

"As you know, the survival of the nation is at stake, and all our efforts must be directed towards that goal. However, you know as well as I do that extremist groups are still active despite the integration of the autocephalous militias and act in the shadows, as my recent stay in hospital shows. Mrs. Donti," she said, addressing the Minister of the Army, "we must immediately conduct an investigation in each tribe in order to flush out all leaders affiliated with these groups. And especially among the even more virulent Dagvans.

Then Agasga Ursule, the Minister of Social Affairs, intervenes with a reproachful look :

"Say right away that all Dagvans are terrorists ! I find this targeting of my tribe particularly insulting, Madam President.

Tsula glares at her, giving her a dark stare. She doesn't seem to like having her authority challenged in this way, but says nothing. This is strange for the ministers, who see her for the first time showing a slight sign of authoritarianism to them. It's probably nothing, but it's still slightly and inexplicably disturbing.

"I have never, never, said that all Dagvans are terrosists, simply because this isn't true. I say what is. However, for historical reasons and given my status as Aniyunyanne leader, not to mention the assassination attempt, it is obvious that radical movements are more likely to form among the Dagvans than elsewhere, right ?"

"Certainly..."

Agasga finally concedes reluctantly, thinking that this is still insulting.

"Good, and don't make this happen again. Now let's move on to the next subject."

Edited April 21 by Florentia
I'm retarded. (see edit history)

[Florentia]

The Pelican and the Raven

 

28 March 2023

Dear Parents,

I have received your last letter. My congratulations to Aunt Rini on her recovery! The front has been very quiet since last time except for some artillery fire, and still. Most of the artillery is on our side thanks to the Haru models we purchased. My luck is that I am not part of the divisions responsible for pacifying the rear of the front because the Federals are doing serious damage to them.

Good news! You may have heard about it because the nobles have been getting upset from their ivory tower. Dellague has decided to replace all the incompetent officers, appointed only for their title, with talented officers, of diverse origins, full of ideas and above all whose doctrines are not from the last century. Many of the new high dignitaries come from foreign schools. As for our own little dignitary, the whole group had a good laugh when we saw Sergeant Lavoin's reaction when he was fired. It is one of the corporals who took his place, a guy called Novelle who I hardly know but who respects us, unlike his predecessor. One can say a lot of things about this Dellague, that he is authoritarian, corrupt, mafioso, etc., but at least he has some common sense. I am hopeful that we can finally move forward.

Despite the difficult situation, morale is rising a little. My friend Alphonse managed to make a banjo out of nylon threads, a rifle frame, a wooden barrel and a piece of tent material. I helped him but he did most of the work. He tried to play me some tunes from his home but the banjo sounds random sometimes. It's a bit like a beginner on booze trying to play, so we have a good laugh. I sometimes accompany him on vocals, which softens the dissonance of the banjo, and we're pretty happy with the result. Our corporal calls us "Banjo'n'Banji". I'm Banji.

Take care of yourselves. Love to you, Rini and Yogi.

See you soon,
Daiki

 

Scene 11,
Free Cashari Federation,
Libreville, Federal capital city,
01/04/2023, 19h00

Since the assassination attempt on Tsula Passereaux, the President of the Federation, her mental state has only worsened. While Tsula has always been slightly suspicious of other tribes, her pan-Cashari nationalism and desire for revenge against the white man has masked this. Unfortunately, this optimism was violently chased away by the attempt of the Dagvan nationalists. From then on, Tsula became more unstable every day.

Firing his ministers one by one, Tsula replaced them with loyal supporters of her faction. Regarding the national militia and the federal army, the rivalry between the two organisations is growing as funds formerly allocated to the army are redirected to the national militia. Indeed, the national militia, Tsula's beastly watchdog, is much more extreme than the army. Whereas before the militia was only a support to the professionals, it now carries as much weight. This new situation leads, of course, to fierce opposition from the Woya Genève faction as well as from Tsula's more moderate supporters. Unfortunately for them, the President has a plan.

On the balcony of the Presidential Palace, in front of a dense crowd, the President is broadcast live on television and radio. After a short breath, she begins her speech :

"Casharis, as you know, we are at war. But not only against the enemies outside, the Lysians, but also at war with the enemies inside. Therefore, in order to guarantee national security and to protect the future of our people, I declare full powers, in accordance with the Federal Cashari Constitution. From now on, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Ministry of Defence are directly under my jurisdiction, without the intermediary of a minister. All means of production that can be used for the war effort are from now on nationalised and the owners will not receive any compensation, except the pride of having served their country. These properties will be managed directly by the Ministry of Industry and Agriculture.

In order to ensure the political cohesion of the government and parliament, I announce the creation of the Revolutionary Tribal Action. Its objectives are to ensure the future of the revolution, equality between the tribes, the safeguarding of our traditions and the end of the white man's rule on our island. In addition, a new unit of the national militia, called the Red Moon Division, will be responsible for protecting the party and eliminating any anti-Cashari or anti-revolutionary activity within our borders.

Long live the national revolution. Long live the federation."

A new era of burning revolutionnary ideals, of nationalism, socialism and tradition, shall "shine" on the Cashari Island. From now on, the days of democracy in the Federation are counted, as the days of Woya Genève herself. The Red Moon is hungry. The hunt has begun.

[Florentia]

The Pelican and the Raven

 

Scene 12,
Free Cashari Federation,
Libreville, Federal capital city,
02/04/2023, 13h45

Marshal Donti, head of the Federal Land Army, is sitting in a chair outside the doors of Madame President's office. Looking regularly at her watch, she is clearly impatient, and holds a partially crumpled sheet of paper in her right hand. Footsteps echoed in the corridor and Donti saw the President at last! The Marshall calls out to the President:

" - Madam President, I received your memo this morning. I've been trying to reach you for over an hour."

Tsula opens the door to her office, followed by Donti. She sits down in her armchair and points to one of the chairs.

" - Please hurry.

- I was saying that it's about your instructions, specifically those for the Red Moon division. I understand the need to have a political police force to ensure the stability of the regime, but the methods are...

- They are?

- Bloody. You even order", Donti points to the paper in her hands, "the execution of opponents and their families, even though they are innocent. And to make their bodies disappear.

- So what?" asks Tsula, tapping the desk compulsively and repeatedly with her right index finger, a sign that she is becoming increasingly impatient.

" - Perhaps we can imprison them instead? Or at least spare their families. We don't need to be so cruel.

- Did I ask your opinion?" The tapping intensifies.

" - I'm giving it to you. When you redirected half the army's funds to the National Militia, even though it is made up of incompetent and corrupt officers, I only let you do it because I am loyal to you, even silencing the few voices rising up against you in the army. But I can't turn a blind eye this time. I refuse to let the militia carry out these instructions.

- So what are you going to do? You're going to reduce yourselves to the same level as Woya and her clique, and stage a mutiny against me?" The index finger taps the desk so hard and fast that it feels as if it could pierce the furniture.

" - No, of course not. But you must understand my point of view, Madam President. Your orders are against the values of the Federation.

- I AM THE FEDERATION !" screams Tsula with rage as she rises abruptly from her chair, resisting the urge to jump at Donti's throat. Donti almost falls out of her seat in fright. You can see the fear and incomprehension in her eyes at the behaviour of the woman she once admired. A long silence passes. Tsula calms down and, looking sorry, resumes :

" - I apologise. The situation is very stressful for me. It is for all of us. I agree to reconsider these instructions. A new note will be sent to you soon. You can leave now.

- Thank you, Madam. Yes Madam," nodded Donti, reassured that, despite Tsula's brief outburst, she had finally come to her senses and refrained from committing butchery. She stands up, bows and left the office. Tsula waits for a full minute, motionless, until the Marshal has left. Then she reaches for her landline telephone and dials her secretary's number.

" - Send for General Belladone. "

Ten minutes later, a young woman walks through the door frame. She is wearing a military uniform with a camouflage pattern, and a red beret with a badge pinned on it: a crescent moon, the symbol of the Red Moon division. The girl is young, probably barely 30, maybe 25. A shapeless birthmark covers her left cheek, a distinctive sign. The young woman's name is Inola Belladone, the General in charge of the entire Red Moon Division.

" - Come in, Inola," orders Tsula. Inola obediently complies.

" - Donti is beginning to show disloyalty. She's refusing my orders. At this very moment, she's probably already assembling the High Command to overthrow me. I can no longer trust the federal army. On the other hand, I know that the militia will remain loyal to me, and especially you.

- Indeed, Madame. My team, and I even more so, are ready to sacrifice ourselves for you", replies the General, stars in her eyes and fanatical determination in her voice.

" - Good. I want you to take out the entire Federal Army High Command. Without exception. Even more if necessary. I want the army to be completely disorganised. It's the only way to ensure my safety, even if it means endangering the front line.

- Very well, Madame. I will carry out my mission with zeal and efficiency.

- Very well, then.

- As far as the front is concerned, I think the rest of the militia should be able to hold it together. The Lysian race is incompetent and cowardly, they don't have the bravery of the Casharis, and even less the loyalty of the militia. You can count on your loyal servants of the nation, Madam President.

- Good," replied Tsula, as if talking to a dog to reward it for being obedient and well-behaved. Inola smiles back, happy that her beloved President, heroine of the nation and paragon of virtue, is satisfied.

" - The majority of army funds will be redirected to the militia. The soldiers most loyal to the regime will be integrated into the militia, while the others will remain in an army that is now weak, marginalised and under my control.

- Thank you, Madame.

- You can now leave."

Inola stands up and bows. She was burning with pride that Tsula had placed her trust in the militia, and more particularly in her beloved and ferocious 'Lunatics', the nickname given to the members of the Red Moon division.

 

Scene 13,
Free Cashari Federation,
Libreville, Federal capital city,
18/04/2023, 9h39

The assassination of the General Staff was a great success. Apart from a few minor officers, they all died and their bodies were burnt in a large pit in the middle of nowhere. However, the disorganisation of the army has led to enormous chaos among the Casharies troops, as the sub-officers no longer know what to do. This has allowed the Florentian forces to make considerable progress into Cashari territory. The force putting the most effort into the breakthrough is the Orange Blossom Legion, the militia of the state of Narizonia. Since the state has been ruled by the Free Lysian Action, a white supremacist party, the party's militia has dictated the law. The Orange Blossom Legion recruits from among the criminals and social outcasts in order to have militiamen with no remorse. They obey the party's dictates, and in return the party lets them "have their fun", committing the worst abuses, generally targeting minorities and immigrants.

In Libreville, the fighting is terrible. Little by little, the local forces retreated while the Narizonian militia gradually took control of its former capital. In the early hours of 18 April, the local population attempted to revolt against the invaders. Unfortunately, their hopes were quickly dashed by the brutality of the militia. Worse still, some of the militiamen were killed in the process, and their vengeance will be terrible.

Mad with rage, under the orders of their leader, the Narizonians embarked on a terrible hunt. The Casharis were shot in chains, their bodies at best falling into a pit, at worst rotting in the streets. Men, women, children, elderly... no one is spared. The infernal pace is almost dizzying. And the further the troops advance into the city, the more victims there are, like a wave of hatred and violence ravaging everything in its path.

Faced with the massacre, the local forces decided to capitulate in the hope that this would calm the Narizonians. The militia pretended to accept, but as soon as the Casharie forces had left, the violence resumed. This vile process continued until Monday 24 April, when the militiamen realised that the town's soil was so soaked with blood that it could no longer absorb it. They were forced to stop in spite of themselves. The "feast" was over. The death toll is estimated at between 80,000 and 100,000, a quarter of the city's population.

What about the Imperial Army? Did they not react? It didn't learn of the event until it was too late and even refused to intervene at first, incredulous at the horror and methodism of the act. However, faced with a fait accompli, it could no longer deny the truth. An entire detachment was sent to Libreville. Despite their zeal, the militiamen simply could not stand up to the Imperial Army, which was both more numerous and better equipped. As the army headed towards Giol, the provisional capital of Narizonia, the confederal government sent an ultimatum to the Narizonian supremacists. They have 24 hours to resign, or the army will force them to do so. In disgrace and without their beloved militia, the party is forced to accept the terms.

In the days that followed, a coalition of democratic parties organised a provisional government to reinstate democracy in Narizonia. Despite the atrocities, the pain and the tears, equality finally appeared and hope was on the horizon.

 

Scene 14,
Free Cashari Federation,
Libreville, Federal capital city,
29/04/2023, 15h00

Faced with these events, the Confederal government was forced to speak out. Just ten hours after the surrender of the supremacist government, Lysandre organised a televised address not only to Florentians but also to foreign countries.

"Florentians,
The events are still fresh and painful, but we cannot hide the truth from you for the sake of honesty. Between Tuesday 18 and Monday 24 April, the Orange Blossom Legion, a militia of the Action Lysienne Libre party, organised a genocidal mass murder of the Casharis of Libreville, killing almost 100,000 people.

The Imperial Army and the Confederal Senate decided to intervene. The Legion was disbanded and the Narizonian government was forced to resign. We are now in the process of drawing up a new constitution for Narizonia, one that is truly democratic.

This tragic event will not be forgotten, and a monument to the victims will be raised as soon as the war is over. It will serve as a daily reminder of how dangerous, toxic and even heretical racism is, because it establishes that people are not equal, whereas we are all equal before the Lord.

This has reinforced my belief that Florentia is hungry for change. I am announcing, not only to you, my fellow Florentians, but also to the whole wurld, that Florentia will be free of all forms of slavery by the year 2024. The era of suffering has lasted long enough.

Long live the Empire. Long live Florentia."

Edited 3 hours ago by Florentia
I'm retarded. (see edit history)