Eternity RPC Board
06-23-2018, 02:17 AM
* * In Zeebrugge * *
The Disciples had been expecting the siege of Zeebrugge, even almost welcoming it from the start. Having already destroyed the bridges to the west side of the river some time ago, those who hadn't just come to the city from harrassing the invaders had prepared for the siege of the city. The coastal bombardments and air attacks had destroyed most of the heavy weapons emplacements, though after the initial attack on the fleet they weren't expected to get much use anyway; instead they'd spent their time transforming as much of the East City into a fortress deathtrap as possible, using the hard and deep cover of buildings to set up killzones and crossfire in strategic choke points, and planting various explosives elsewhere.
Despite warnings to and even helping people get out of the city before the arrival of Soyabar's armies, there were still a far too sizable number of civilians in the city - numbering in the hundreds of thousands - by the time the bombs and the shells began to fall around the city. Neither cameras nor eyes could be everywhere, nor could they penetrate so deep into buildings and basements turned into makeshift bunkers; was that a man in a hoodie running with a gun, or was it a youth darting home with a basket of bread? Not only were these imperial Soyabar scum willing to rip the nation apart, these Brigidnan imbeciles too wished to murder the population just to get a relative few scraggly fighters, for the sake of their ambitions?
Truly the freedom fighters were right: these westerners had to go.
For their part, the rebels in the city made a point of harrassing their enemy that strayed too close to the suburbs and fields around the city under withering sniper fire, forcing them stay on their toes. In the meantime, the rest stayed hunkered in deep cover, weathering the bombardment with the crying of babies and the wailing of mothers wondering why their sons had to die when they went to the market that day.
* * Inland * *
The second and first armies coming inland found their supplies both long in coming, and less than expected. Toppled trees, burnt wreckage and other obstacles were tossed onto the roads to impede convoys enough for fighters to launch their barely-surprise guerilla attacks before melting into the trees; most of these attacks of course came at night, when a mask of brush and darkness impeded both infrared and normal vision.
Of course, the two main armies weren't left unharrassed either, as nearly every night small roaming bands of men and sometimes even simply individual fighters with far too much gall would take shots at the stationary targets presented to them: a few shots coming from the east one hour, a burst of heavy guns from the south in the next, a handful of shoulder-fired rockets and small arms somewhere past the midnight hour. It was enough to make one wonder, how long could a soldier truly go without any decent night of sleep, his thoughts filled with the anxiety of wondering how many more attacks would there be this night?
* * Elsewhere * *
A claw of a finger traced the pages line by line at a typewriter's pace as sunken eyes skimmed the lettering of the page, the nature and content of which remained for his eyes only. As usual the content was not of a happy tone, yet nothing nothing of it came unexpected; actually some aspects were arguably, well, better than expected if not actually 'good' of their own right. Still...
A rapping came on the door cross the way from him. Looking at the setting sun beyond his closed blinds, he sighed with the effort of switching gears, stretching his back and his long limbs before folding away the papers and retrieving his tea in one continuous motion.
The as-yet-unnamed man gave the floor beside his chair a light rapping with the heel of his shoe, and the bolts slit out of place. "Yes, the door is open."
The same man from before gingerly pushed the door aside, checking the corners and behind himself with care before stepping fully within. The lithe man rolled his eyes; really, there could not possibly be anyone else here to look out for, and the cautions motions were entirely needless. Regardless, his visitor, satisfied, nodded his aknowledgements.
"My brother, we have received word that our guests will arrive in Drassari on the morrow. Assuming they make it through the air screen, but much like the surrounding forests our defenses in that area are very thick; I doubt the imperial dogs would risk losing so many men and material to strike it yet without their armies, which are still stalled many moons away."
A sip. The tea was almost that perfect intersection where it was almost the same temperature as the body of a man, where the only indication of drinking anything at all came from the slight warmth to one's cold lips and the gentle moistness on the tongue, like sipping upon a liquid phantom. Too bad it could not remain this way forever.
"Yes," came the reply from our tea-imbibing man, "As we agreed. Though is this for equipment only, or persons as well?"
The question couldn't be answered with any more than a simple shrug. "We don't know yet brother. Specifics were not really given."
"As is typical of them, my brother, but that is fine. I suppose it would only be polite to join the welcoming committee then, such as it is."
Another sip. It seemed bitter somehow, but maybe that was just the passage of time seeping into its waters.
The Disciples had been expecting the siege of Zeebrugge, even almost welcoming it from the start. Having already destroyed the bridges to the west side of the river some time ago, those who hadn't just come to the city from harrassing the invaders had prepared for the siege of the city. The coastal bombardments and air attacks had destroyed most of the heavy weapons emplacements, though after the initial attack on the fleet they weren't expected to get much use anyway; instead they'd spent their time transforming as much of the East City into a fortress deathtrap as possible, using the hard and deep cover of buildings to set up killzones and crossfire in strategic choke points, and planting various explosives elsewhere.
Despite warnings to and even helping people get out of the city before the arrival of Soyabar's armies, there were still a far too sizable number of civilians in the city - numbering in the hundreds of thousands - by the time the bombs and the shells began to fall around the city. Neither cameras nor eyes could be everywhere, nor could they penetrate so deep into buildings and basements turned into makeshift bunkers; was that a man in a hoodie running with a gun, or was it a youth darting home with a basket of bread? Not only were these imperial Soyabar scum willing to rip the nation apart, these Brigidnan imbeciles too wished to murder the population just to get a relative few scraggly fighters, for the sake of their ambitions?
Truly the freedom fighters were right: these westerners had to go.
For their part, the rebels in the city made a point of harrassing their enemy that strayed too close to the suburbs and fields around the city under withering sniper fire, forcing them stay on their toes. In the meantime, the rest stayed hunkered in deep cover, weathering the bombardment with the crying of babies and the wailing of mothers wondering why their sons had to die when they went to the market that day.
* * Inland * *
The second and first armies coming inland found their supplies both long in coming, and less than expected. Toppled trees, burnt wreckage and other obstacles were tossed onto the roads to impede convoys enough for fighters to launch their barely-surprise guerilla attacks before melting into the trees; most of these attacks of course came at night, when a mask of brush and darkness impeded both infrared and normal vision.
Of course, the two main armies weren't left unharrassed either, as nearly every night small roaming bands of men and sometimes even simply individual fighters with far too much gall would take shots at the stationary targets presented to them: a few shots coming from the east one hour, a burst of heavy guns from the south in the next, a handful of shoulder-fired rockets and small arms somewhere past the midnight hour. It was enough to make one wonder, how long could a soldier truly go without any decent night of sleep, his thoughts filled with the anxiety of wondering how many more attacks would there be this night?
* * Elsewhere * *
A claw of a finger traced the pages line by line at a typewriter's pace as sunken eyes skimmed the lettering of the page, the nature and content of which remained for his eyes only. As usual the content was not of a happy tone, yet nothing nothing of it came unexpected; actually some aspects were arguably, well, better than expected if not actually 'good' of their own right. Still...
A rapping came on the door cross the way from him. Looking at the setting sun beyond his closed blinds, he sighed with the effort of switching gears, stretching his back and his long limbs before folding away the papers and retrieving his tea in one continuous motion.
The as-yet-unnamed man gave the floor beside his chair a light rapping with the heel of his shoe, and the bolts slit out of place. "Yes, the door is open."
The same man from before gingerly pushed the door aside, checking the corners and behind himself with care before stepping fully within. The lithe man rolled his eyes; really, there could not possibly be anyone else here to look out for, and the cautions motions were entirely needless. Regardless, his visitor, satisfied, nodded his aknowledgements.
"My brother, we have received word that our guests will arrive in Drassari on the morrow. Assuming they make it through the air screen, but much like the surrounding forests our defenses in that area are very thick; I doubt the imperial dogs would risk losing so many men and material to strike it yet without their armies, which are still stalled many moons away."
A sip. The tea was almost that perfect intersection where it was almost the same temperature as the body of a man, where the only indication of drinking anything at all came from the slight warmth to one's cold lips and the gentle moistness on the tongue, like sipping upon a liquid phantom. Too bad it could not remain this way forever.
"Yes," came the reply from our tea-imbibing man, "As we agreed. Though is this for equipment only, or persons as well?"
The question couldn't be answered with any more than a simple shrug. "We don't know yet brother. Specifics were not really given."
"As is typical of them, my brother, but that is fine. I suppose it would only be polite to join the welcoming committee then, such as it is."
Another sip. It seemed bitter somehow, but maybe that was just the passage of time seeping into its waters.