"Only the RAR and everyone else." General Norvega had a slight grin on his face as he continued.
"Our teachings at the Royal University are limited. I have not had the privilege of actually studying any Nietzsche. In fact most of my university time was spent learning about the ways of war. So all of my further education has been what ever books I can find on my campaigns. Do you believe in God Colonel Morrison?"
"To reference Nietzsche," Morrison replied, "God is dead, and we killed him. I do not believe in God, and no sane man who lives in this post-apocalypse does." He misses Nate cringing a little at the implicit idea that someone who believes in God is insane.
General Norvega chuckled with a jolly smile on his face while some of the Knights with in ear shot give the Colonel a death stare.
"I assume that is true to you at least. Myself I am a simple man who believes in the Signs of the Harvest. A simplistic belief in that some divine power allows us to harvest on time and provides us with a bountiful harvest. However Colonel Morrison, I wouldn't be so sure that there isn't some divine power at work in the wastes of this old country." General Norvega finished his wine and poured another glass.
"Anyways, it has been a wonderful time, but I must retire for the night. Early morning is the curse of the soldier." he stood up and bowed to the Brigadier and Colonel Morrison.
"I wish you well gentlemen." and at that he left but his other fellow officers began to party even harder with the departure of some of the more senior officers.
Nate and his officers stay for another half an hour before gathering up and taking their own leave.
Once returned to the Assembly Plant, Nate receives the order to withdraw to Fort Knox, which he does over Morrison's objections. The withdrawal is something of a spectacle; the soldiers march out of Louisville in a column 4-deep, at attention, with vertibirds shadowing them from the sky. Only once they have passed the I-265 do they break up into combat March formation.
"Transport planes, long-distance cargo models. There may be the occasional Vertibird to bring in the fusion cores required for refueling." She taps her fingers on the desk, thinking about the sum. "2,000 caps a year."
King Robert slammed his hand on the table as he began to bawl with laughter he wiped the tears from his eyes and recomposed himself before continuing.
"I am sorry two thousand caps a year for an airstrip to allow you to bring in air craft is not suitable. Twenty five thousand caps a year plus fighter escorts through out my air space and beyond until they are needed to return for refueling" he poured another glass of water and a glass of melon juice offering to pour her a glass of juice as well.
"Two thousand caps is a lifetime's fortune in the wasteland, your highness. 7,500 caps."
"Yet this is not the wasteland I rule, it is my Fiefdom. I agree to seventy five hundred caps a year. First payment is expected within the next thirty days. Shall we hash out the paperwork and fine tune it some more? When am I to expect an RAR ambassadorial mission?" the smile on his face remained.
"Yes, let's," Angela replied with her own smile. "An ambassador should arrive within a week or two. Preparations to be made and all that. Should we expect your own embassy?"
Setting Sun: Part 5
After waiting some time the Calvinite finally appeared. He was dressed in very fancy clothing combining blues and silver throughout. In the back of the hall, they were waiting in was a silver adorned chair, very reminiscent of a king's throne. He sat and spoke;
The Calvinite: "I am Calvinite Joran, Grand Proctor Gamble tells me you are from New Franken."
Schnieder: "Yes, surely you have heard of us by now."
Joran: "Yes of course, I'm sure everyone in this land has heard of the Reich. My predecessor was some kind of isolationist. That's why we built strong walls around the city. It took close to a decade to complete but it has kept us safe since the occupation."
Schnieder: "What occupation?"
Joran: "What? I thought everyone knew of the Shi-Zao's occupation of Grand Rapids!"
Schnieder: "I know of the Shi-Zao but I was always told they originated here."
Joran: "No no, they were a conglomerate of three tribes that still exist today to the west. Only one of them still calls themselves Shi-Zao though. No matter what is it you want?"
Schnieder: "Yes of course your eminence, the Reich recently took possession of a trading post nearby..."
Joran: "Ah yes the I-96 Trading Post."
Schnieder: "Yes well we were informed trade was being blocked by your eminence through the city. We would like to negotiate it's reopening."
The Calvinite stands;
Joran: "Yes and I know of how you came to hear of this. I sent my proselytizers to preach salvation to the inhabitants and what did your people do? Interrogate him and beat him nearly to death!"
Schnieder: "Your eminence surely you exaggerate."
Joran: "I do not exaggerate Ambassador! Grand Proctor arrest these men and have the Ambassador beaten just as they beat our missionary!"
The guards move in a grab them.
Schnieder: "This is outrageous! You will pay for antagonizing the Reich!"
The envoy was taken to prison. When they had left the Calvinite turned to Grand Proctor Gamble.
Joran: "Grand Proctor mobilize the Ordo Salutis, we will take the battle to the Reich."
The ambitious southern offensive is to be begun by the First Host, led, of course, by Lord Commander Harald Sutherland. Armed with the brand new G2 Rifles to replace the venerable Grinder, they are also to test out the new artillery granted to them, where they will be able to determine a suitable doctrine and placement in the Host formation. It is widely rumored that the weapons are being tested before being used against the supposed overlords of Gravelton. Before the First Host begins the attack, it moves to the border with the frontier and prepares to launch an offensive under the shadows of artillery shells. Scouts push into the territory to mark down hotspots of raiders and other such wasteland filth.
Lord Commander Harald Sutherland stared out over the cracked and barren earth before his eyes, atop his horse and watching his men prepare for the upcoming offensive proposed by that ambitious young gun Palmer. The Lord Mayor had loved the idea and had given it approval, so here he was, to make it work. Palmer was, of course, also commanding the Second Host to the east. A horse trotted up to him and his newest source of troubles atop it. Catherine Riddleshaw was an entirely different beast to her father, a peaked cap perched atop her hair, which itself was put into a bun. She seemed rather excited to begin and that made Harald feel a measure of concern for both the troops and the raiders.
Knight Colonel Samuel Palmer breathed in the crisp air from atop his horse, before coughing suddenly from a random bit of dust and hunching over in his saddle. He straightened up in his saddle, gently pounding his chest with a fist, and coughed to clear the last bit of it away. He wiped away some tears from the coughing fit and groaned in irritation, before sighing and stating, "Mother Liberty, that was a mood killer. Eh, adjutant, if you would.". A nearby adjutant handed him a canteen and he downed it to finally clear his throat, sighing in relief before handing it back and stating, "Right, let's go.". Artillery pieces, already in place and sighted, roared their hate and flung their shells like the lightning bolts.
Across the line, bugles rang out and Watchmen rose from their cover to charge, mortar shells arcing through the air to scythe through the enemy and the thunder of machine guns cut through the air. Knight Colonel Samuel Palmer watched it all and smiled in glee. He could see, through his trusty binoculars, a Guardsman leading a charge, hoisting the banner of the Second Host high. Palmer lowered his binoculars and smiled at the glory that was to fall upon him.
Up until now, the Third Host has been sidelined by the first two Hosts, saddled with garrison duty while the others won glory on the battlefield. The Third Host had almost lost hope of ever seeing true battle and earning any accolades and loot, until Knight Colonel Matthew "Mad Matt" Richmond burst into the barracks one day to announce that Knight Colonel Samuel Palmer had not forgotten his old friend and had planned a major offensive involving the Third Host that had been approved by the Lord Mayor. Upon the recieval of this news, an impromptu religious ceremony took place which saw half of the Host absolutely hammered by libations. Upon the morn, they were mercilessly pressed into action by their commander, the aforementioned Knight Colonel Matthew "Mad Matt" Richmond, and set upon a quick march to purge themselves of the holy water that had given them crippling hangovers. While the other Hosts won glory on the battlefield, the Third was training and upon the news that that training was finally to be used, the Third marched to war.
Rapidly pressing into service the new G2 Rifles and artillery pieces, the Third Host sought their positions on the frontier border and awaited the order to advance. When it came, it came with the force of lightning and the Third stormed over the border, illuminated by the boom of artillery.
The Fourth Host, comparatively, took the news well. They packed up their rucksacks, assembled into formation and mounted the carts to take them to the border province from which they would launch their invasion into one of the southern territories. They spent the trip familiarizing themselves with the new G2 rifles and found them more reliable and superior to the Grinder, while their mortar crews took a gander at the artillery and read the newly printed manuals on them. Patrolmen rode ahead with some command staff to pick a spot to establish a camp for the Host and Sentries were dispatched to scout out the perspective territory. It was not promising.
Knight Colonel William H. Harrison stared dispassionately at the rough map sketched out on a piece of parchment, before looking up to the sentry captain who had handed it to him and stating, "Excellent work as ever, Captain, you may return to your men.". The captain nodded, saluted and strode out of the command building. One of Harrison's adjutants stared down at the map and idly mumbled something to the effect of being grateful for the new artillery, which Harrison silently agreed with. The campaign was not going to be easy, at all.
The Fifth Host positively exploded with refined excitement at the jolly news that they were to finally fight on the front for Mayor and Mayorate. They assembled into perfect formation, to a man dressed in their most finest and decorated uniforms, and marched in perfect lockstep with their newly refurbished G2 rifles, brought to Host standards. Knight Colonel George W. Nelson watched with pride from atop his horse, Clancy, and merrily puffed away with his pipe, jovially waving about with his command baton. The Fifth Host began to march south, to the territory that also happened to share a border with those Federals.
The first indication that something was not right for the Dead Rats raider gang was the bizarre screeching sound from across the way. A few raiders, rudely awakened from their highs, went to take a look and saw some loon on top of a hill, blasting away with a bugle. The raiders thought about shooting him, only to stop at the added sound of drum beats, then they began to take steps back as a man joined the bugler atop the hill and then another and another again and more kept coming. Then something boomed in the distance and the world began to explode around them, to the tune of bugles, drums and the war cries of hundreds of charging madmen in brightly colored armor and uniforms charging at them with rifles.
The Twilight War. Part 9: New faces, New plan.
"What do you mean I'm no longer in command?" Hutier asked the Chancellor and Kaiser.
"Look, Feldmarshall," the Kaiser said, "You let a mole right in under your nose, and we lost any initiative we had. We want to go in a different direction." At that exact moment, the door behind Feldmarshall Hutier opened, and Helmuth Hohenzollern and his second in command and best friend, Julian Van Hindenburg, stepped in. The color drained from Hutier's face, and then came back as a dark red.
"HIM?!?!?" He shouted, "You want to put a Hohenzollern in command?!?!?"
"And a Hindenburg," Helmuth said, smirking. Hutier reared and shouted,
"He's no more a Hindenburg than I am a Richthofen, and you know it!"
"Feldmarshall!" The chancellor shouted, "You are out of line, leave now." Hutier turned, opened his mouth, and closed it, then turned again and walked out. Julian bowed his head, more than a little ashamed, while the Kaiser and Chancellor looked at General Hohenzollern.
"So," Helmuth said, "that happened. Anyway, about our plan."
"Yes!" The chancellor said. "So what exactly do you want to do?" Helmuth smiled and said, "well, I plan to do something similar to what the Feldmarshall did, but without the spy sabotaging me." The Kaiser looked at him and asked,
"What will be different?" "I'm glad you asked mien Kaiser," Julian jumped in, "What's different is that this time, we have a Submarine."
Setting Sun: Part 6
The Ordo Salutis stood in formation outside the Cathedral waiting for the Calvinite to address them. 500 elite troops equipped with assault rifles and light machine guns, all dawning T-45 power armor, and the higher-ranked soldiers in T-51. The Calvinite stepped out of the window on the balcony and addressed the men.
Joran: "Order of Salvation! Soldiers of the most high God! You are tasked with the defense of Christendom against the scourge of the Reich and the tyranny of the Führer! You will go and take the I-96 Trading post from them. The Grand Proctor will lead you but even greater than he, God is with you!"
The men shout in excitement and the Calvinite leaves the balcony. The Grand Proctor, in his personal T-60 power armor, stepped forward to address the men.
Gamble: "Men! Let's move out!"
The soldiers dawn their helmets and begin their march to the trading post.
When the order arrived on the outskirts they immediately attacked Reich patrols, killing everyone. However, the guards at the western watchtowers heard the gunfire.
Trading Post radio operator: "TK-421 what is your status? ... ... TK-421 do you copy?"
The guard captain reported the no contact status to Colonel Wagner. The patrol missed their hourly check-in but Colonel Wagner was unwilling to send anyone to look for them to not leave the post vulnerable. As a precaution all patrols would be recalled and all guards would remain on alert. Many expected an attack causing residents to pack up as much as they could and head east. Night fell and nothing happened but as the sun rose 500 men in power armor were nearly on top of the post. Fighting ensued but their numbers and extra firepower were too much for the 150 man garrison.
Colonel Wanger rushed to the radio room as the western gate fell.
Wanger: "Get the capital on and hurry!"
Radio operator: "Yes sir! I-96 Trading Post to Reich Capital over!"
Capital Radio operator: "This is Reich Capital please go ahead."
Wagner: "This is Colonel Wilhelm Wagner Kommandant of I-96 Trading Post we are under attack! I repeat we are..."
Wagner and the radio operator jump and turn to the door to see Grand Proctor Gamble standing there with wielding his .45 pistol as smoke poured out of the barrel.
Gamble: "Colonel Wagner I presume?"
Princess Regina Snow let out a sigh. Another day, another royally frustrating problem. Pulling the pins out of her hair, she began the fast spiral into the realm of overthinking. A knock at her door, however, snapped the princess out of her thoughts.
"Honey?" a familiar voice called, and Regina rushed to open the door for her husband.
"Thomas, hi," she responded, a cheesy smile finding it's way up her face. "What are you doing here? I thought you and Richmond were having your 'father-son time'?"
"Yes, well, we were. That is until Selena informed me that he still hadn't done his schoolwork for the day. So, I came to check on you. And based on the way your hair looks," he gestured to the pins still sticking out of her silver locks, "I think I was just in time." Sheepishly pulling some of them out, she stepped back to allow Thomas inside and shut the door behind him.
"Well," Regina started, sitting down on the bed and patting the spot next to her for her prince to sit. "I had some very angry fisherman demand an audience with me today."
"About what?" Thomas questioned, taking up his wife's seating offer.
"The Pieresmen have apparently been, to quote one of my troubled subjects, 'hoggin' all o' the bloody good fishing spots'." She made an effort to replicate the fisherman's accent, failing miserably.
"Really? They've never caused trouble before. Didn't we recently renew our alliance?"
"Yes, we did, and I know." With a sigh, she laid her head on his shoulder. "I don't know what to do..."
"Hey, hey," the prince gently kissed her on top of the head. "You'll figure it out. I believe in you, and so does the kingdom. Remember our motto? Armo-"
"-niam Est Magia," she interrupted, giving his hand a squeeze. "Thanks, love."
"Of course." Thomas glanced at the clock on the wall, reluctantly standing up.
"It's getting late, I'll go say goodnight to the kids... Have a good sleep, and don't think too hard about this, okay? You're gonna be fine. I love you."
"I love you too," Regina responded, pulling him into a kiss afterward. With that, Thomas exited the room, leaving the princess alone to her worries.
he was more than willing to wait, he had done a lot of that before.
LT Daniel Taylor Engineer corps
After we fixed the factory and they started production on Small arms munitions we were shipping off to go back to base when we heard gunfire there were raiders maybe 50 of them they were fast approaching some had guns others pipes and makeshift weapons they were in vehicles.We formed flanking formations and started to fire on them, our discipline and the fact that they didn't seem to expect people to be here caused several casualties. But they fired back nailing a couple men but before they could get far we had taken out most of them, a couple turned and drove off the best we could do is hit their break line something to track them. we lost a few good men but their cars had little damage and we were sure we could use them for later.
Sergeant John Doe, First Naval unit
After taking stock we found several cannonballs to put in the cannon along with several grapeshots it would do tell we got a factory to make more. We had been patrolling the the coast with our new boat and had been ordered to follow the rest of the raiders to find where they are operating from because according to my superior officer "Raiders like that don't just get working cars and gas out from any old hole in the ground". needless to say my men weren't to happy to hear that they would be going past the sight line of the shipyard. But I told them to suck it up unless they wanted to hop off the boat and swim to shore, they stopped grumbling after that.January 9th, We found a fortified town that our maps called Naubinway. We could see a broken port and what looked to be a factory and about 20 Raiders Lying about, fighting, and fixing cars. There were more behind those walls we were sure but we didn't stop to look once they saw us and opened fire we marked it on the map and called it in.
Pvt Dalton Chompski 3rd Platoon
After a day of marching we made it to the Raiders base highlights include the cannibal family we had to kill when they attacked us for our meat in a poorly planed ambush oh and the kicker is they had a good amount of explosives but weren't smart enough to use them, we took those to use so we could enter the base, the smoking ruins of what used to be Gould City, and a bunch of trees. We set up to the North West of the Target and the 2nd Platoon set up to the North East
Our NCO told us to put Potato's on the tips of our guns so we won't attract the attention of the Raiders on the inside before we breach, we did so and lined up our shots there were 20 men "guarding" the entrance by that I mean sleeping or playing poker, we took aim and once the command was given we fired. Small pops were all they heard before their heads were gone, the LT Radioed to the ship and told them to fire the cannon at the base and fire to create a distraction while we set up to breach the wall they stood ready for the order. We started to set up and when we got ready to breach we heard a large bang and the wall shook we all got behind cover before blowing the charges. oddly enough we didn't expect that instead of the wall opening a hole big enough for us to fit in, that it would in fact groan and fall over, turns out neither did the Raiders, started Firing on the Raiders their screams uselessly flying out of their mouths as they rushed to get their weapons but fell over as we shot them. Before we knew it they were all dead and the only thing they managed to do is make us use our ammo.
NCO Johnston Mars 3rd Platoon
As we were firing at the Raiders I looked over at Chompski and was disturbed to see him smiling while shooting them. I mean I hate Raiders much as the next Trooper but I didn't feel happy killing them. I planed to stay far away from him for awhile. But after we were done we found some Prisoners and Slaves and freed them and offered citizenship to them and Radioed to get Engi's to fix the roads and Factory.
Troop losses: 15
Population gains: 1,000
Equipment and Building Gains: Medium Factory [needs repairs], 20 unarmored vehicles, 50 melee weapons, 20 Battle rifles
Catherine Palmer, Squire, stared out across the broken ruins of a Pre-War town she did not have a name for, binoculars in hand to survey the last bastion of degeneracy and discord in the territory. A typical den of raiders, men and women descended into scornful banditry, deriving their prosperity from the hounding of those who would eke out a living from the poisoned earth. They had likely never fought an actual foe worth the name before, hapless farmers and scavengers with pipe weapons their primary targets. And now they were huddled around a burning barrel, drinking the last of their stolen alcohol and huffing the last of their drugs, forced into hiding by a force that did not run or cower like those before it. Catherine found herself smiling at the sight, a sort of pride by proxy at the vindication of her people's strength of arms and will. She lowered her binoculars and gave a thumbs up to the nearby mortar crews of the company she had been dispatched to, turning back as the thumps of the mortars called out and shells arced their way towards the ruin of the Super Duper Mart, Watchmen and Guardsmen rising from their covers to begin the assault.
The initial assault had been relatively successful, a three pronged push through the territory to cleanse it of raiders, mutants and other assorted scum of the wasteland. Utilizing Patrolmen, Lord Commander Sutherland had scouted out major hotspots of resistances and deployed his artillery to flush them out, before sending in Watchmen and Guardsmen with mortar support to finish them off. The tactic proved successful enough to be employed repeatedly, even as the raiders began to flee rather than fight and the number of crazed mutants began to dwindle to nothing. Concentration of firepower served as a very effective way to prevent too many casualties.
Lord Commander Harald Sutherland rubbed his eyes in exasperation at the shouting of the various delegates from the various settlements of the territory. The meeting conducted in order to ensure the swift transition of the territory into the embrace of the Mayorate had thus far been indecisive and fraught with dissension. Undoubtedly, the territory would join beneath the banner of the Mayorate, yet the manner in which it would reside within the state has been contested. Harald sat down in his chair in tired frustration, even as the delegates continued to stand and argue. A door opened and in came his squire, covered in all the debris of battle and grinning in spite of it, somehow all the more radiant for it. She strode to his side and took a seat, hunching over to ask, "How goes your end of the campaign, sir?", to which Harald scoffed and waved a hand at the still raving delegates. "The delegates agree that induction into our illustrious realm is inevitable, but the idea of being governed by an all powerful representative of the Lord Mayor, a noble, is disquieting to them.". Catherine frowned, before standing suddenly and stating, "If it would please this convention, I have a proposal.", the delegates gradually quieting and staring in expectation. Catherine paced, as if an orator of old crossed with a triumphant conqueror, "If it would please you all, then you shan't be governed by a noble chosen by a distant and, in your minds, uncaring monarch, but rather a governing council subordinate to a military officer.", a furor of voices cried out and Harald straightened in his seat in alarm, while Catherine's voice rose over the noise in cutting fashion. "This officer, subject to military law, will be subordinate to the Mayor and possess the power of veto over the council, to be used in case of any edicts, laws or levies that would inhibit or prohibit the defense of the territory or thus violate the laws of the Mayorate.". The delegates glanced at each other, visibly displeased yet resigned, gave their assent.
Population Gained: 2,537
Setting Sun: Part 7
The Führer: "Come in."
Weber: "Mein Führer I-96 Trading post is under attack!"
The Führer: "What! By whom?"
Weber: "We aren't sure mein Führer. Colonel Wagner was able to contact us but then the signal was lost. But if I would have to guess, I'd say those religious fanatics we sent Ambassador Schneider to meet with. That is the closest foreign city to the post."
The Führer: "Radio Kalamazoo and Battle Creek have the base garrison deploy and send helicopters to scout the enemy."
Weber: "An entire division mein Führer?"
The Führer: "We don't know what we are up against Reichsmarschall, yes an entire division."
Kalamazoo and Battle Creek
The 1st and 2nd Brigade of the 1st Mobile Infantry received their orders from the Führer and began mobilizing. The division was armed to the teeth for battle with machine guns and mortars. Many of the Humvees even towing the M102 artillery in tow.
Air-space over I-96 Trading Post
Three Blackhawks from Flin Air Base near the post.
Pilot 1: "We are almost to the post please be advised hostiles in the area, civilian presence unknown."
Pilot 2: "Rodger that, proceeding with caution."
Pilot 3: "Copy, Rodger that."
As the copters came in range they began to be pelt with small arms fire. The gunners opened fire on the hostile targets but the enemy had set up a strong cover to shield themselves. The skies were clear enough, however for the men to see the distinctive blue crosses on a white field. The sustained enemy fire became too much and the helicopter had to disengage.
Pilot 1: "Blackhawk Two to Battle Creek base come in over."
Radio operator: "This is Battle Creek base, over."
Pilot 1: "Hostiles have taken the post, can not confirm if any civilian or prisoners are present. Proceed with caution it appears that the hostile are wearing power armor."
Radio operator: "Acknowledged, over."
The operator relayed the information to the division commander.
By this time the division had reached a town just eight miles from the post. They would attack at dawn.
The stench of burnt flesh hanged in the air, a cloying miasma that clung to the back of one's throat. The bodies of raiders were steadily fed to a crackling pyre and flesh blackened at the licks of the flames. Sentries had been given the duty and were carrying it out with grim stoicism, hurling dozens of bloodied and dirtied corpses atop the flaming stacks of wood, debris and flesh. The raiders had been disorganized, as capable of posing a challenge as those they forced to give tribute. The people of the territory were sheep and the army of Gravelton was a wolf pack, slaughtering the rams and forcing the lambs into servitude. Still, the raiders did have some serviceable armament amongst themselves. A laser pistol had been recovered from the corpse of a technologically gifted raider and given to Knight Colonel Samuel Palmer as a trophy of the campaign. Now it rested in a makeshift leather holster, freshly blessed by the priests and tilted Liberty's Wraith. Unoriginal, true, but appropriate.
To call it a battle though would be something of a mockery. The raiders were, as said before, disorganized and more like criminals than genuine Raiders. Scouting Patrolmen and Sentries had discovered their various bases and prodigious usage of creeping mortar barrages and shock tactics had broken their backs. The only real resistance had been the raider boss with the laser pistol and his gang, having restored some old Pre-War military equipment. They had been answered by the new artillery guns, something Palmer was happy about it considering the otherwise minimal usage of them otherwise in the campaign.
Still, the campaign would help further his list of military triumphs and enable the development of proper doctrine for the new artillery. It had been used sparingly as necessity dictated, but in those instances of use, it had proven truly effective at shattering the resolve and bodies of raiders. Truth be told, it was beginning to become too easy. Cue record scratch.
Population Gained: 2,528
Battle of Green River, Owensboro Campaign
The front line of Fiefdom Troopers trudged through the swamp land around the Green River. Every now and then there would be some gun fire and a quick explosion but all in all it was eerily quiet. Squealing tank treads were quickly gargled by the marshy muck and the paths the tanks could take was very few; perfect for ambushing them. Luckily the Owensboro Militia didn't know how to fight against steel behemoths approaching like the four horsemen. War drums sounded in the fog directing the movement of the troopers along with the occasional bugle. It was still quiet except for the sporadic gunshots, after a while they finally arrived to the actual river bank of the Green River which was no more than a little creek now but the mud was thick. The few feral ghouls that were in the area were quickly dispatched before all hell broke lose. The war drums sounded a quick and repeated cadence with the bugles following in turn and the order was given through out the line to fix bayonets. Enemy militia who had camouflaged themselves on the opposite back began firing into the ranks of the troopers who returned fire after fixing bayonets. Tracers and bullets were spat back and forth between the two opposing forces. Thankfully the M4 Shermans finally made it to the frontline and began pommeling the opposing bank occupied by the enemy militia. There couldn't have been that many enemy soldiers but they made it seem like the Fiefdom Troopers were facing down a hundred thousand. Finally after several hours of fighting the gun fire slowly stopped and soon silence befell the front line once more. It seemed too quiet before another hell was unleashed upon the troopers. The fire fight was even more brutal than the last but neither side was willing to capitulate. At last the order was to push forward with the tanks providing cover fire from the banks of the river. With bayonet fixed the troopers advanced over the bodies of their dead and wounded comrades and pushed the enemy militia back from the river heading towards Owensboro. The Battle of Green River was won but the campaign was far from over.
"In due time Miss Angela in due time. For now I will send one of my noble families to Fort Knox and the Lord will act as the ambassador until I can establish complete safety on the roads of my newly acquired territories. Once that is complete then I shall be sending him to your capital." he stood up and bowed slightly out of respect for her.
"Now if you will excuse me I believe I have another foreigner waiting to see me as well. It was a pleasure meeting you Miss Angela, perhaps you will be the ambassador here. Good day to you,"