A/N: I didn't have a lot of space to explain what's going on here in the summary, so I'll elaborate here. Basically, the Clans (the main four and SkyClan) have been given the approximate roles of five different major countries in our history (Russia, Germany/Austria-Hungary, France, England, and the USA), and Warriors history will play out beginning from a World War One analogue. Since this is an AU, SkyClan is still with the other four Clans and they all live in the forest, which is about twice the size as in real Warriors. The cats are still cats, and this is not a human AU.

I apologize for this long author's note and hope it doesn't alienate any readers.

GREENLEAF, 1419, RIVERCLAN-OCCUPIED TERRITORY

I hate parades, Oakheart thought. What's the point of sending me into this little strip of occupied territory to appease the rogues living here? There isn't one. They'll sit here cheering the procession of the deputy, and then the instant we leave they'll go right back to plotting against us and occasionally causing explosions.

But Crookedstar was the leader and also his brother, so even if he wouldn't do it for the leader he sort of had to do it because it was his brother. Sure, they sometimes fought, but Crookedstar's recent life had been pretty hard. His mate and two of his kits had died, and it didn't help that the only remaining kit, Silverpaw, was quite rebellious. There was a reason her father had put her into training under the RiverClan Elite Warrior Corps.

In the depths of Oakheart's reminiscence, he didn't hear the shouting, nor the sudden, maniacal laughter.

All he knew was that he was suddenly flattened to the ground by one of his bodyguards. "What the hell?" he hissed, struggling upright just in time to see his other bodyguard, Stonefur, catch something in his teeth and throw it back into the crowd.

The explosion temporarily deafened the heir to RiverClan's leadership. Shielding his eyes from dust particles, he pulled himself to his paws.

"What the hell was that?" repeated Oakheart.

Mistyfoot, his other bodyguard, looked temporarily chagrined, and Oakheart realized too late that he hadn't thanked her for saving his life. He didn't have the time to apologize, as she began speaking before he could say anything. "It looks to me like some rogue independence advocates decided RiverClan could do without a deputy." she replied dryly.

"Yes, well, I could tell that." Oakheart replied. "But are you telling me that the local warriors didn't even bother to look for agitators?"

His ears heated as he realized that was a stupid question and that of course they had, and he shook his head. "Never mind. Let's just get to the meeting with the BloodClan ambassador already before somebody else decides it's time for me to go to StarClan."

"Scourge can't control the people." the black-and-white tom said to Oakheart in an even, friendly tone. "If they think Crookedstar is an idiotic fool who blatantly disrespects the rights of the rogues in RiverClan's occupied land, we cannot stop them from voicing their opinion."

Oakheart bristled. "Are you telling me that Scourge is such an incompetent leader he can't control his own citizens?"

Now it was the BloodClan ambassador's turn to bristle. "Scourge cannot lock down all BloodClan territory and wipe out all dissent so quickly as you seem to think he can."

"That is funny, Bone." Oakheart's tone grew cynical as he turned away from the tom to survey the crude map of the forest on the wall of the den. BloodClan was barely a fourth of the size of RiverClan. It would have been bigger if they hadn't completely fled the Twolegplace years ago. "We find it easy enough to stop antagonistic sentiments against our leader. What I think is the matter is that you cannot be bothered to try to cut down on anti-RiverClan feelings within your territory because, as long as their hatred is focused on something other than your incompetent leader, there will not be any internal revolutions to be had."

"That is enough!" Rage distorted Bone's features as he sank his claws into the soil. "You go too far now, Oakheart! Do you want war between our Clans?"

Oakheart laughed humorlessly. "If it came to war, you know who would win."

"You don't think that SkyClan or WindClan would intervene against what they see as an enormous empire antagonizing a small rogue state?" Bone snarled.

"WindClan has been in a habit of losing wars since the War of 1218." replied the RiverClan heir. "As for SkyClan, they're a bunch of bird-eating surrender mice. Should push come to shove they will cave. Besides, after losing the River War forty years ago, do you really think that they'll be eager to lose any more land? RiverClan already controls both sides of the gorge, and I doubt they want us any closer to their camp."

Bone was visibly having to make a great effort to not annihilate Oakheart. "You will not get away with this, Oakheart."

Now the red tom's laughter was full of vitality. "I have the power of the largest empire in the forest behind me. BloodClan may be hardened by years of being forced to live with Twolegs, but you are small and weak. We outnumber you greatly, Bone, and should push come to shove we will not hesitate to crush you. Do be careful to remember that."

Striding out of the conference den, Oakheart fell into step between Mistyfoot and Stonefur.

"How did the meeting go?" asked Stonefur curiously. Although he had no doubt heard the exchange between the BloodClan ambassador and the RiverClan heir, he knew perfectly well how much trouble he would be in if he admitted this.

"Bone was most uncooperative." Oakheart replied, fixing his eyes on the well-trodden dirt path out of what had been the main rogue camp and was now merely one among many subjugated RiverClan camps. "He did not seem very sorry that we were not able to reach an agreement. I doubt he'll tell Scourge to declare war, though. He knows we can destroy BloodClan in a heartbeat."

Stonefur nodded in agreement, and his sister said, "Just like rogues, I suppose."

Oakfur let himself fall slightly behind the two bodyguards. They have matured so much since I retrieved them from the cold snows on the ThunderClan border. I wonder if they would protect me even more fiercely if they knew that I was their father?

Then he shook himself. But Bluestar and I have come too far for anything to be possible, and I suppose that they will never know. It is of course for the best, but sometimes I cannot help but wonder...

"Die!" he heard somebody yowl. Oakheart kept walking, figuring it was nothing: these rogues always dealt out such threats to each other, especially now when they were sunk in the morose depression dealt out by RiverClan occupation.

Then a rumbling sound came from the side. With a startled meow, Oakheart swept his head around.

Distantly he heard Stonefur and Mistyfoot yowling, and that was all as the flood of rocks buried him. The last thing the deputy saw before his eyes closed forever was a ginger tom standing atop a small hill, triumph blazing in his eyes.

GREENLEAF, 1419, THUNDERCLAN CAMP

The sun beamed dully through the leaves above the surface of the ThunderClan camp. A ray of sunlight lit upon the pelt of a ginger tom who walked alone on the dirt path from the center of the camp to the clusters of dens outside.

"Hey! Fireheart! Guess what!"

The ginger tom spun around with a slightly startled meow, only to relax as he was nearly bowled over by the white apprentice. "Alright, Cloudpaw." he sighed. "Tell me what happened."

"Someone called me a dirty kittypet during training!" the apprentice replied indignantly. "Though Graystripe did praise me for not clawing his fur off..." he added.

"Who was it?" Fireheart's fur bristled. Ever since he and his nephew had come to ThunderClan, they had met with a great deal of anti-kittypet sentiment. Admittedly, they still had it better than the few half-bloods that there were, although ThunderClan was more accepting than the other Clans of both ethnicities.

"It was Darkstripe. He told me I wasn't fit to be training to enter the Warrior Corps," explained Cloudpaw, "because I'm a kittypet, and he also said that Bluestar made a great lapse of judgement in letting you become a warrior, let alone enter the Clan."

Fireheart's lip curled. "I doubt he'd say that to my face."

Nodding, Cloudpaw continued, "Brightpaw told him as much, although she got sentenced to picking out the elder's ticks for her support."

"Hey!" At the shout, both cats swung around to see a gray tom making his way towards them. "Fireheart, you're a terrible friend, you know that?"

"Who, me?" A slight smile formed on Fireheart's lips. "What'd I do?"

"You left me behind to explain to Tigerclaw why you were leaving patrol early." panted the tabby as he fell into step beside Firestar and Cloudpaw, "and then I got stuck talking with the apprentices for almost an hour about some incident in RiverClan."

"Oh! I heard about that!" Cloudpaw's tail curled. "Didn't the deputy get killed by a rogue named Rock or something?"

The gray tom shook his head. "No, Brick was his name. I'd know since I was stuck listening to the apprentices gossiping about it for an hour!" he growled, turning on Fireheart.

Fireheart sighed. "Look, I'm sorry about that, Graystripe, but I really had to use the dirtplace and Dustpelt wasn't being very considerate."

"You could've just asked Lionheart if you could go off to the side for a moment," Graystripe replied, anger somewhat sated.

"Are you kidding? He's one of the greatest warriors in the Clan, and everyone knows he's got a really good chance of being the deputy once Bluestar or Redtail bite the dust! You think I'm going to go up to a cat twice my age who'll probably end up the freaking deputy at some point in the near future and say, 'Excuse me, Lionheart, I gotta use the dirtplace.'" This was said in a high-pitched kit's voice. "'Can I nip off to the side and piss real quick?'"

Graystripe and Cloudpaw both stared at Fireheart and burst into laughter.

"Yeah, I don't think so." Fireheart reverted to his normal tone.

"I was actually laughing at something else." Cloudpaw wiped at his eyes with a paw. "You know how One-eye once said that Lionheart looks like Thunderstar? Well, I was imagining you asking Thunderstar if you could have a potty break and I just couldn't take it..."

"You're messed up, you know that, kid?" Graystripe said, bumping Cloudpaw with his shoulder.

"You honestly think I'd have the guts to walk up to the Father of our Clan and ask if I can use the dirtplace?" Fireheart shook his head. "I'm flattered by your confidence in me, Cloudpaw, but... no."

"How about we talk about something other than the dirtplace?" Graystripe interjected.

"What is there to talk about?" Fireheart shrugged.

"Oakheart getting bumped off?" suggested the gray tom.

"Come on, we all know what's going to happen there." Cloudpaw sighed. "RiverClan'll invade BloodClan and conquer them completely, execute their leader, what's his face..."

"Scourge," Fireheart prompted.

"Right, thanks. They'll execute Scourge and occupy the entire Clan." Cloudpaw shrugged. "A kit could see it."

"That's providing that SkyClan isn't drawn into the war on BloodClan's side." Graystripe ducked under a fern frond. "I mean, tiny Clan being attacked by a gigantic one, they'll be all 'Aah, we can't have this disturbance of power!' and attack RiverClan."

Cloudpaw scoffed. "Ashpaw said that SkyClan's going to be too busy eating random birds to intervene." He imitated a SkyClan accent. "'Oh, is RiverClan invading BloodClan? Well, we can wait to intervene until after we've finished eating these new birds we just got out of the Twolegplace.'"

"Yeah, well, eastern ThunderClan thought the same thing about Redstar and the West during the Civil War. But their slave-based Clan got overthrown in under five years, didn't it?" Graystripe winced as he remembered that Fireheart and Cloudpaw were both kittypets, but they didn't seem to notice. "Only StarClan knows what will happen next." he finished, hoping to cover up his slight blunder.

Fireheart glared at Cloudpaw, daring him to say something atheistic, but the apprentice seemed to understand that disbelief in StarClan was something you had to mask in this society.

"Well, here's my den block." Graystripe turned to face the other two. "See you around." Dipping his head, he walked into the entrance.

"You should get to the apprentice block." Fireheart told Cloudpaw. "You're probably going to have your assessment soon, you know, and you want to rest up for that."

"Really?" Cloudpaw bounced on the tips of his toes. "I'll be a warrior soon?"

"It's only an 'if' right now, but a very likely 'if.'" Fireheart grinned slightly, remembering his own anticipation as the end of his apprenticeship grew nearer.

"Great!" A wide grin split Cloudpaw's face as he rushed into the apprentice's den. The enraged squeak that followed a few seconds later suggested that he had stepped on one of his fellow apprentices in his eagerness.

Shaking his head, Fireheart continued on to his den block. Tomorrow promised to be a long day.

A/N: A note about the camps: They are arranged slightly like cities and are roughly three or four times the sizes of the canon camps. Ordinary warriors and apprentices live in dens set along trees along the exterior of the camp, arranged much like tenements, while those who are more important live closer to the inside of the camp. The leader's den is at the center and consists of several interconnecting dens where the leader and their family live. The deputy's den is about half the size and serves the same function, albeit for the deputy and their family.

At the moment, the analogues are:

ShadowClan: Russia

RiverClan: Germany/Austria-Hungary

ThunderClan: United States

WindClan: Britain

SkyClan: France

BloodClan: Serbia

Character analogues:

Oakheart: Archduke Francis Ferdinand (Austria-Hungary)

Tallstar: King George V (England)

Crookedstar: Emperor Franz Joseph (Austria-Hungary)/Kaiser Wilhelm II (Germany)

Bluestar: Woodrow Wilson (USA)

Nightstar: Tsar Nicholas II (Russia)

Leafstar: Georges Clemenceau (France)

Scourge: Peter I (Serbia)

Brick: Gavrilo Princip (Serbia)

Thunderstar: George Washington (USA)

Redstar: Abraham Lincoln (USA)