«12. . .74,96674,96774,96874,96974,97074,97174,972. . .129,676129,677»
Lets rp as someone who went bigfoot hunting but ended up getting lost in the woods
Hello RMB.
His Majesties War (SR RP)
The King took his place on the podium in front of the Palace entrance. The media were gathered. Ready to hear the speech. "My fellow Vapians, Loyal citizens of the Kingdom. I am here to speak to you directly. Over the course of the previous few days, the government has debated on how to proceed with the situation involving our kidnapped citizens. Not legally arrested, but kidnapped. Over the last several hours, it has become clear that our government intends not to take decisive actions in order to recover our citizens, but rather, to appease these ruthless aggressors. To diplomatically treat the Moralist regime, is to acknowledge their legitimacy, despite their human rights abuses, restriction of our faith, and their tinpot dictatorship that is propped up by a thread. It is my belief, it is the Crown's belief, that the elected government is no longer acting in the best interests of our citizens, and is astonished at the lack of use of our vast resources. Here and Now, The Crown, and with it, the powers vested in it by the Senate, The People of Vapia, and God, invoke the rights of the position of King, to announce to the Empire, but most importantly, Cameot, that the Empire will no longer tolerate your terroristic like actions. As of this moment, the Vapian Empire declares WAR upon Moralist Cameot. Together, we will unite, and recover what is rightfully ours. May God bless us all."
The speech was finished, and the people of Vapia, the media, and the government, were astonished.
Pinguioris, 5 Kingdoms of Britannia, Tringapore, Astransia, and 1 otherThe afsharid dynasty
RIP...
The Democratic Kingdom Of Skaraborg and The afsharid dynasty
Nuk.
Well that suck... I feel your pain
Aerilia, The Democratic Kingdom Of Skaraborg, and The afsharid dynasty
Streets of Warlington, November 5th of 1968.
Across the narrow road, a dense fog covers the snow-white streets as the sounds of guns and explosions ring through the air in the distance. Rubble of collapsed and collapsing buildings littering the streets, as the mechanised sounds of warmachines trampling across the paved roads, across the sea of snow as the battle for Warlington raged on in the background. Through the dense fog, or at least, what seemed to be fog, a lone soldier appears - brandishing a beaten up L1A1, bayonet on the end as he breathes through his gas mask that conceals upon his humanity. His hand reaches up onto the helmet, adjusting the black brodie helmet as his camouflaged jacket covered the olive undershirt as his black boots and snow-white pants collide with the snow around him. He lifts his feet up as he stomps back onto the snow, tredging through the thick fog as more figures much like him - brandishing Machineguns, Rifles and even older Bolt-Actions and Submachineguns walk through the once-busy street.
Within the beaten down cafe, a door creeks open as the barrel of a rifle peeks through the darkened insides, a soldier stepping inside as his black boots scanned across the room - looking left to right as the fog calmed down. Rifles raised as more men entered the room, checking corner to corner, door to door, and rubble by rubble for traps and leftovers. Or even, enemy soldiers, as they walked across the snow-coated ground to the upper levels. "Corporal, corners." the sergeant barked out, as the corporal raised his shotgun onto a corner - looking closely as they checked for wires and traps alike. "Nothin' Sarge. Place is dead like the others'." as they all slowly lowered their weapons, looking around as they took a sight on the once-busy cafe. The place seemed abandoned, or perhaps more abandoned than it should as they looked at the calendars - 1967, a full year before they even got here. Thoughts raced through the minds of these soldiers, as a Armaghian then spoke out "The hell has Jerry done to this place? Why's the calendars all wrong?"
The men shrugged, as they stepped around - taking what food and valuables they could from the abandoned cafe as they opened drawer to drawer, nick by nick, and rubble by rubble. But then, the sound of tracks rang out as the men stopped on their tracks, and got down. The roaring sound of an engine as the footsteps of boots litter the outside, approaching closer by the moment as shots rang out across the street - screams of civilians and animals alike as a soldier cursed out under his breath "Cleaners.." as his hands gripped upon the M16A1, looking back as he looked over to a young female, a Private First Class in rank, as he spoke out "Ey, Maria, go up to the second floor with Tommy and set up positions." he then turned over to an older looking male, a veteran of the Great War, yet still merely a Sargeant in rank, "Grandpa, you too." as the old man nodded to the Anglian Captain, as the Argyllian stood up with his L1 and Rifle Grenades alongside Patty, a Machinegunner with an L7A2 from Arbyster and Maria, a Catholic with M72 Anti-Tank Launchers and an L2A3 Submachinegun from Armagh.
This motely crew of men and women from all over the Union scrambled to their positions gradually, a seperate fire-team later getting in contact and setting up an ambush point across the road from them as well, just as the cleaners approached their positions ever closer as bipods were set on piles of ruble and eyes and ears were made as sharp as ever through all the ailments some may have. And as these cleaners approached, and some even passing - rifles then poked out of the many windows of the collapsed buildings, the spirit of Anglia hailing proudly as the cackle of rifles broke through the air. A hail of bullets from machineguns, rifles and explosions from grenades and rifle grenades exploding on formations of men, a hundred troopers against 16.
And as the dust settled, they still remained, as a yell was then heard "Maria, launcher, now!" followed by the distinct blast of an M72A3, the 66 milimeter rocket slamming itself against the hull of the Centurion - the rocket exploding upon contact as the burning crew yelled and cried in pain, crawling out as their bodies were torched in fire as the continued and concentrated fire of the L7A2 cut down and suppressed the Jerries. And as the guns fired, the 7.62x51mm casings fell on the ground, the Jerries would make a desperate last-charge against the Royalist troops as their bayonets were fixed, and what seemed to be 5 men for every one royalist came out in droves.
Yet for every men they sent, the Royalists always had enough bullets for each, and as bodies fell onto the red-coated snow below, the royalists came face to face upon with their former brothers. Bayonets were sent lundging onto the Jerries as the fire of Submachineguns took down what foolish few attempted to overrun them, where as those with rifles slashed and dashed from waves upon waves of approaching Jerries as they emerged from the cafe while the crackle of pistols and the swings of a sword came from the Captain as they screamed "God Save the Queen!" as the fire of justice, liberty and freedom bellowed into their souls as their Finest Hour. And as the battle ended, as the fighting ceased, in the last wave as they dealt with the last of the Jerries, a soldier exclaimed - "Jog Off, Jerry." as the zip of a 7.62x51mm collided onto the flesh and bones of the blackshirt, falling onto the blood coated snow as the men of "The Regiment" moved to their next target.
Manches, TyGerria, Vyata Temor, Rozchevka, and 1 otherThe afsharid dynasty
I need to increase Law Enforcement to stamp out Black Market
Muahahahah!
Rise my minions, rise!
Huh? Sir, this is a Starbucks.
Territorio di Nessuno and Govornia
Post by Knitehorn suppressed by The cascadian bioregion.
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Aerilia is ranked 886th in the world and 28th in The North Pacific for Fattest Citizens, with 63.93 Obesity Rate.
Xagill, Govornia, Ethnon, Inven, and 1 otherNorth Baba
Xagill is ranked 238,068th in the world and 9,521st in The North Pacific for Fattest Citizens, with 2.69 Obesity Rate.
Aerilia, Govornia, Ethnon, Nordic-British Union, and 1 otherInven
Another Green and black tank?
Why are there no Purple tanks? :(
Yo guys
«12. . .74,96674,96774,96874,96974,97074,97174,972. . .129,676129,677»
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