Kingdom of Louria
November 11, 1639 C.C.Y..
Jin-Hark
Royal Castle
There is nothing better in life than listening to your country just crumble, thought sarcastically his royal highness Hark the thirty-fourth of that name in the Lourian dynasty, and the one hundred and fiftieth king on the throne of Louria.
The worst part is that it's really all your fault and yours alone, which unfortunately Hark had to admit, albeit very reluctantly. After all, who more than him promised golden mountains if they accepted Parpaldia's proposals.
And then it all went to shit.
Six long years, six agonizing years during which he lied, cheated, pulled out, went into debt in order to amass a huge, truly huge horde of soldiers that would fall on the positions of the remaining usurpers on Roderius and finally unite the country under the iron circle of HIS power.
Everything would have worked, they were already ready to strike only the gods decided to make a mockery of them.
Suddenly these strange Nihonians arrived, literally appearing out of nowhere, those there quickly turned them over to their side, so the Nihonians decided to send them help. Caution and prudence dictated that they hold off on any action until they had more information about this new country.
No, he didn't need those fools from Parpaldia to tell him what to do. He fucking isn't dumb as a shoe who ignores something as boring as, an interview about a new player in the area. He wouldn't stay in power by arming himself to the hilt without his own intelligence network. Just because he likes feminine sounds and very often even talks naked to everyone doesn't mean he lacks self-preservation instinct.
On the contrary, compared to his predecessors, he has too much of it. His father would have immediately lashed out at the usurpers. That's how foolish he was. That's why he died an uneasy death in his own bed through an overdose of dagger steel.
Another thing is that his arrogant creation of a lustful king was his personal way of playing off his opponents. At the end of the day, it's hard for you to maintain seriousness and caution all the time when the one you hate is acting like a buffoon right?
But good, it was nice, after gaining information from spies and with the help of Parpaldia who quickly established contacts with Nihon, he learned two things. Nihon has strange weapons of unknown purpose so it is necessary to wait with the invasion for now, and that Nihon itself is a colossus on legs of clay whose needs to survive are greater than the ability to be supplied by her new neighbors.
In particular, this colossus has a problem with something called public opinion, which is that if ordinary people get screwed, their government has a problem, which will make them have to go home. Add to that that they believe in something as foolish as pacifism.
What idiots, this democracy of theirs is a fucking joke. What kind of moron came up with it? Ordinary people don't give a shit, if they riot they are pacified and a few of the more vociferous ones are hung in a prominent place and that's the problem. And still giving them a voice, an idiotic idea.
Fortunately, it's not his problem, but Nihon's. Moreover, this dastardly system gives him a chance to do what he wants, however, especially with their idiotic but useful pacifism.
The Nihonians, seeing that nothing was after them, forced by public opinion, went back. And they were already supposed to attack in the autumn, worse because it was closer to winter and the plan was to invade them in the spring to be able to start exploiting these lands this year, not some ditty they could to the goddess because the elves believe in it and so it should be so we limit our development.
But good, at least there will be more to take and hunger can help get rid of non-humans.
He was already glad that he would be able to get glory and more land after all, when another visitor arrived. This time of the kind who, when asked if they could send soldiers, replied, where?
Zhechpospolita, these guys screwed him mercilessly. They simply came at the request of these savages from the east and Nihonia because they heard that Louria had the gall to suggest that there are inferior races and races that need to be exterminated because they are an insult to the world.
What's more, they are said to be so rich that they helped Nihon with their very existence at the swipe of a hand.
Fuck me, thought Hark for the first time when the Polish delegation arrived at the port and told them in diplomatic style to get the fuck out of the border or else there would be a very bad. Then, for the first time in his life, he felt that the world hated him and wanted to kick him in the ass every time he tried to do something more than his ancestors.
He got pissed, obviously at them, and told them to get the fuck out and shove that miracle ship of theirs up their asses. Did he regret that?
That he committed a diplomatic faux-pass, yes.
That he expressed his feelings about what he thinks of the Polish proposal, no.
No less, he couldn't just throw himself at the enemy. He knew what it would end with. He didn't need for that once again the fools of Parpaldia what treat him like a retarded child.
The problem is that he will probably have to. The whole bunch he's called up under the gun are getting impatient, the bankers want their loans repaid, and more importantly "allies" are already plotting behind his back wanting to bring him down.
He doesn't want to, but he has to go to war. Only by trying does he have any chance of getting away with it. He has no desire to share his father's fate.
Therefore he raised his right hand silencing another of his servants bringing bad news. And everyone in the bathhouse looked at their ruler.
Hark stood up and the towel fell down exposing his manhood. But the look on his face made no one pay any more attention.
"Dear friends," began Hark's speech, and in the back of his mind he was surprised at how easily this obvious lie went down his throat. "I've had enough of this." Murmurs ran through the bathhouse.
"Enough that the world on the last straight decided to destroy all of our collective effort with a mere threat!" He growled silencing the murmurs.
"Aren't you guys also fed up with the fact that for more than a year now, every now and then another player appears who ties our hands?" He asked those gathered before him, while those present began to look around at each other, others hid their faces. A nervous silence fell, and it lasted for a long moment before one of those present, Prince Jonark Frans of the pro-war faction and one of the loudest supporters of striking at the usurpers from the east, loudly answered his king's question.
"I have had enough! Let hell consume the gods, Roderius will be ours, no matter how many monsters they summon here to the aid of these savages!" Shock gripped everyone with this blasphemy, but it didn't take long as more joined him in their insults.
"I have had enough, death to these primitives. Fuck the gods!"
"I have had enough. We deserve Roderius!"
"I've had enough!..."
And so more and more began to add from themselves and the dominoes went, forcing more to join in this litany of blasphemies, insults to others and support for the king. Until finally someone called out.
"I have had enough! Fuck Poland, Nihon, Parpaldia, Que-Toyne and Quilla. No one will stop us! Roderius will be ours, Philades will be ours, and those wretched lands summoned by those fucking gods will be ours! Let's put them down!"
"Exactly!" Hark spoke up again, interrupting the litany. "Let's put them before the facts!" Everyone fell silent focused entirely on their ruler.
"We all know little about these newcomers, most likely in battle they will quickly defeat us. But our target is not them, but the usurpers!" He said this as if it were revealed truth to his listeners.
"Let's gather our entire force and strike with all our might very wide and fast to flood the usurpers like a wave. After all, these new ones can't appear in two places at once, and most of the clashes will just be with the usurpers, let's defeat them and these new ones will be forced to retreat!" He argued in a very concerned tone, Hark doing his best to capture the minds of his listeners so that they would not look at the holes in the plan.
"Great idea my King!" cried a loud male voice belonging, of course, to a person who was not so easily fooled. "But who will carry it out?" General Prince Junfira mocked the royal idea.
Most likely, he thought he could get him out of the way so he could torpedo his plans. He was one of the most resistant and against the invasion and because he was quite influential his voice carried a lot of weight. For him, the emergence of Nihon and Zhechpospolita. was a gift on which he could build.
Unfortunately, Hark had his answer prepared, he felt it was the only way to escape the trap.
"I will personally execute it by standing at the head of the army of conquest," he said.
The king's words caused a shock that resulted in deafening silence and surprise painted on everyone's faces, especially on Junfira's face. It made Harka want to laugh at this, but he remained serious.
"You, will you lead her?" said Junfir in a puzzled tone, ignoring court etiquette. Hark smiled in spirit. It worked.
"Yes, I will personally lead it and win or not my name is Hark Louria XXXIV!" he clenched his right hand raising his fist upwards, becoming for a moment like an ancient statue of a warrior king.
He waited theatrically for a long moment before Jonark was the first to clap and chant "Long live the king!" then others joined in and finally Junfira was one of the last to join in the applause very reluctantly.
Satisfied, Hark lowered his voice and bowed theatrically, thanking everyone for their support. Outwardly he thanked everyone, while inwardly he thought of one thing.
Rooms in inns located in the Kingdom of Riem are cheap. Cheap enough.
Commonwealth
Duchy of Prussia
25 November Anno Domini 2020
Barracks of the 1st Marine Division
"ROTA, ATTENTION!" shouted an officer with the rank of Rotmistrz, or as they say in Goethe's language Rittmeister. Of course, for the uninitiated, a Rittmeister is a captain in the army of the glorious Republic literally meaning as a master of the rota.
And the rota itself in Old Polish means company. In the Empire as well as in known Poland, the rota was eventually supplanted with the rank of rota-master to the rank of honor in the cavalry ranks but in the Republic it remained in its place to eventually become the rank of infantry captain, while the local equivalent in the cavalry is Chorąży or, translating from Shakespeare, Ensing or Standard Bearer or literally Bannerman.
Ironic isn't it?
Of course, this is not the beginning of the differences in rank but we will deal with that a little later. Let's return to the officer in command. The officer in question is Rotmistrz/Rittmeister Helmar von Kleist, a man in his prime with short dark blond hair with gray already visible in places and a short but bushy mustache. No, not a mustache in the style of the world's most popular German, slightly longer.
In front of him stood his rota, which is 60 soldiers divided into four retinue (the equivalent of a platoon in other armies) which are commanded by captains (one of the first differences, the Polish captain is a level lower than in other armies) with the captain appearing only in infantry, in cavalry and artillery he is called a Companion.
To further crank up the level of difficulty they are called Haupfman and Kammerad, respectively, in German, because, after all, it is a military unit of the Duchy of Prussia.
Someone will ask, and can't this be simplified and make the whole system more pragmatic? The average Commonwealth Pole will answer, you can but why? We like it to be more difficult because we like to play with words.
Of course, there are voices wanting to simplify this, but they are usually ignored because they are minor simplifications anyway and, secondly, the names of the ranks mislead the opponent. And yes, that Captain Price of the Crown Army only brought a platoon of infantry to Lostrum.
Helmar looked at his subordinates for a moment, the look that fell on them was harshly evaluative. He unfortunately had something to say to them. "Stand easy!" the clatter of boots being spread around the parade ground.
"I welcome you to another week, beginning beautifully, and I'll ask you in soldierly terms what the fuck is going on in this brothel!" the commander began his argument.
"What is this all about!" He growled and the soldiers slightly began to look sideways with their eyes, "Feldhaus had one thing to say about it. They've grown up and fucked some people in the ass! Or to put it in military terms, it fucked the current up the tails! Never cut off or never trimmed!"
"I have been saying since Monday since you first got your pay in your paw, spend the money well. And I was counting on the fact that a twenty-two-year-old horse understands what good means." Some of the new soldiers began to understand what was going on, the older soldiers made an unsteady face well they knew what was going to start.
"And for him well, it means to get fucked!" He growled like an angry Rotmistrz, "And... make smoke in Rota!"
"Lamb's head one of the other. Vodka is for smart people, and beer! And not for rams! The rams drink water from the trough... or sour milk. At most, they get shit!" Those responsible turned red in the ears and lowered their heads, but no one laughed.
Helmar, seeing that the reprimand had worked, nodded and moved on to the next part of the roll call. "It's time to start training gentlemen, beautiful classes will be today." After which he turned to a couple of soldiers personally, "Tenner with Geeler, and company. It's time to get acquainted with the plan if you haven't managed to get acquainted by now. What's up in the retinue office, what activities will be on the schedule next week. What that fucked up Kleist came up with. Well, it's written there."
"Tomorrow's class, in the tactical lane, because too much energy!" He continued by focusing on those mentioned but speaking generally to everyone. "They walk around, looking for the previous week, month like sleepers. They sleep the fuck out during the day, and then the canaries in the head hatch... and farts in the ass that you don't know what to do with. If there's too much energy, then to the cabin, there to store for themselves..." he made a theatrical pause to see the reaction "... and do their own thing."
When he finished, he nodded to one soldier known for his hyperactivity. Then he continued, "The next flower, I walked into the soldier's chamber of the command retinue, of course, work clothes why take to the checkroom of any, why come to ask at the roll call on Friday at 2:30 pm, Commander what to do with the working clothes? Because they are lying in the hall, no one has indicated, the storage place. Where should we keep it, in the civilian, in the common room under the photo of the sainted memory of Thomas? Or at the NCO's table?" He asked rhetorically in an ironic tone.
"No, hide, no one said anything. Throw everything under the cabinets. Let it stay as it is!" He chuckled out, then asked. "The first cabinet behind the door on the right whose?"
"Trimborn." Replied one of the soldiers. "Trimborn" repeated Helmar "A numismatist has found himself, he collects coins." He sneered "So that he won't run out of those coins if he throws fucks anywhere he goes. And when he gets out of the army, he'll come back after a month to take it back because he can't get a job anywhere. Accept back. But he'll be the loudest screaming fuck poverty."
"The drawer is not for coin collecting!" He turned to Trimborn "A few more flowers will be found there." He turned to the faery retinue. "Haffke I've been explaining to him since he came to Rota, since September to replace the cushion at the quartermaster's. No, what for? He sleeps on such a shit, the fafir has found. A mess where not to look! Pajamas on pajamas puffed out that until the pillow falls over. What I am talking about should not happen!"
"But if instead of order one prefers to drink vodka, then later this is the effect. We'll still talk to each other with those involved about that door handle broken off, as long as they still remember what's going on! As long as they remember. What they did, in what way and with what results." He stuck his gaze into the right row.
He then moved on to others "This is how it is like the duty service..." The duty officers assigned for the period scowled "...does the same thing, does not react! Well, because how does one not react when the danger begins, when the booze enters the rota, or the stoners enter, under the influence, and one does not isolate them. You don't report to the duty service, you don't call the squad leader when you need to. It's better to call and ask about free fucking than what's going on in the rota, then later what's left when the mess starts?" The gaze swept over everyone gathered.
"Prayer! To the Field Ordinariate call, email." He continued by answering the question "WHAT SHOULD I DO? Poop! It remains to make a pile and dig in. Fly the white flag."
"That's what the service is for, to react. Before! And not after! After, it's already possible to sip water and declare fucking abdication and bankruptcy. Because that's what you should do at this point." Helmar explained simply.
"Because I'm finding out today, this morning! What is the phone for? Precisely to call the rota commander in case of need, so that such two rams do not make more smoke. Or so that someone in solidarity doesn't fuck them up. Because there have already been a couple of such professionals, they tracked down such a one in the kibbutz and walked around with a bruised face for a couple of weeks."
"Also, beautifully the command retinue showed us off. He will immediately fly under the weapons depot, I will issue equipment. And we'll see you perhaps at lunch or at the dinner I'll bring you on the hill, so that the soldier won't accuse you of not eating after he built the observation shelter."
After which he threatened with his finger, "And I wish that when I arrive I will see an exemplary observation post. Just so that none of you stick even a toe out of the tactical belt for me, otherwise I guarantee that you will be remembered for the rest of your lives."
"The other mail, on the other hand, is to clean up its mess in the chamber." He turned to the previous culprits.
"Questions? Complaints?" Asked the commander, answered by a deafening silence. Helmar nodded, "That's good, one more parish announcement. Our magnificent division has been designated as an expeditionary unit to this newly discovered continent of Roderius. The deployment will take place in a month and a half. Therefore, I expect that by then, the rams will have turned into real soldiers so as not to embarrass either Prussia or the Commowealth abroad. Clear?"
"CLEAR?" he repeated again seeing the lack of response. "Yes, Rotmistrz!" Exclaimed the soldiers in chorus. Satisfied, he nodded "Attention! Command retinue and Second Step forward! The others Retinue! Command and Second, right turn. Forward march through the incinerator! The rest disperse!"
Soldiers from the two designated retinue were unflappable, though the second more than commanded.
"We're screwed." muttered Tenner
"And it's because of you! You morons!" growled his colleague Strubelt quietly, "I said, don't do it. Kleist will get on all of our asses. No fuck, you should have been 'smarter'."
"Shut the fuck up, smartass." retorted Tenner.
"Hey, hey, hey take it easy Florian. We've already fallen for the Rotmistrz, don't make things worse." Geeler interjected.
"And you too Hans?" replied an angry Tenner "Together with Ruth against me?"
"No idiot! I'm protecting your ass. You heard what the Rotmistrz told us. We are going to Roderius among these savages. If you continue to behave like this he'll give us the worst job under the sun."
"Oh there, what can happen?" Tenner asked rhetorically
Principality of Que-Tonye
14 February 1640 C.C.Y/ 2021 AD
Forest on the borderland
2 Retinue from the 4th Rota from the 3rd Detachment from the 1st Marine Infantry Regiment from the 1st Marine Division of the Principality of Prussia.
"What can happen? Remember how you said that about two months ago?" Geeler mocked, then ducked as the spear flew over his head.
"For fuck's sake! Now you're telling me off?" growled Tenner after which the man opened fire in the direction from where the spear came, a few shots later shouts of pain and anger could be heard.
"Well, you know, it just so happens that it was because of your further uncorrected behavior that the Rotmistrz gave us the awesome combat patrol assignment in the fucking forest on the shitty border, on a continent where the border is a relative thing! After all, this is the fucking Middle Ages, here the border in the field de facto doesn't exist!" Geeler retorted
"So, yes, I'm just reproaching you! Because if you haven't noticed a bunch of types in armor, armed with swords, spears and large rectangular shields are kicking our ass. Us, the fuck! After all, it's a fucking disgrace for a 21st century soldier like us to have just been held under siege and fighting for his life against a bunch of medieval warriors!" Geeler complained further
"So what the fuck should I do? Apologize to you?" Answered Tenner angrily and mockingly at his colleague's accusations, then another spear this time a sizable one thrown with great force slammed into the tree behind which he hid that the sharp end went all the way through. "Wow" marveled Tenner "Who threw that?" A loud roar gave him the answer.
Four huge creatures, four to five mêlée tall, ran onto the battlefield with a shout. Each wore armor and a helmet with horns going forward. One of them had no weapons instead reaching for a hammer hanging from his belt. The rest instead were preparing to throw like a professional javelin thrower.
"Scheisse" muttered Tenner "A bunch of fucking trolls!" He added after a moment with a shout through the TOPAZ combat network and the system marked them with the armored car symbol.
"Wait a minute, aren't the Lourians supposed to be an exclusively human army?" Pondered one of the soldiers of the retinue, Oliver Nagel, "I don't recall any native telling me about trolls in the Lourians. Rather, they are the ones who have such creatures on their side."
"Maybe they are some warrior slaves? You know, here we have something like magic." Another private Jasper Vaupel replied.
"But that doesn't explain this sudden breaking of their taboo! As far as I know the Lourians especially hate the Beasts that they kill anyone belonging to this kind of creatures! And yet they like slavery!" Nagel opined.
"Gentlemen, can you stop discussing? This is not the place for it!" Geeler interjected, just in time because the other three threw their spears into the Prussian positions, the soldiers quickly began to take cover behind trees into which the spears were thrust one by one with great force. One of the giants threw with such force that it knocked down the tree behind which Geeler hid, the latter dodged at the last moment avoiding being crushed.
"Zygmunt-2 is right. Zygmunt-4, Zygmunt-8 silence, retinue charge fragmentation-destruction grenades On my mark, load as much as you can into the damn thing. We've been playing with them too long." The commander of their retinue, Captain Sigimunt Mutig, spoke up, seeing what was going on.
Soldiers happily pulled out and inserted grenades into grenade launchers of all kinds. Suspended or fired from the barrel of the rifle. Those who had other grenade launchers such as revolvers or anti-tank grenade launchers simply put down the rifle and picked up support weapons.
Silence fell for a moment, those who attacked involuntarily stopped, the gunfire terrifying them suddenly quieted like a knife-cut string. At this time Sigimunt was marking who should shoot where. As soon as he finished he said, "Wait, let them charge at us."
It took some time to wait because the enemy did not hesitate to attack, dumbfounded. Only one of the trolls growled loudly in some unknown language and together with his comrades rushed forward and behind them, encouraged by the courage of the giants, the rest of the soldiers who with a battle cry ran at the entrenched Prussians.
"Yet!" He reassured his subordinates Mutig
"Don't shoot yet!" He renewed the call as soon as the enemy got so close that one could smell the giants stinking as if they had never bathed anywhere but in sewage in their lives.
"Feuer!" To amplify the effect, Mutig used not only a battle net but also speakers set at full volume shouting at the attackers who were already only 50 meters from their position.
Therefore, a sudden foreign barking sound momentarily paralyzed the attackers by making them stand like statues for one brief moment, which allowed the Prussians to accurately hit them at their feet or straight at the attackers. Then the entire foreground around the defenders in one moment turned into a festival of explosions, groans, shouts of pain, curses and shreds of steel-clad flesh and broken pieces of trees such as bark and branches spreading all around.
As soon as the ground and the smoke cleared, the defenders could see their work of destruction. Only large bloody shreds of flesh remained of the four trolls. Not much better were the ordinary people, broken shields, spears and swords were everywhere, while the armor effectively defended against shrapnel to a large extent, although one could see wounds on exposed parts of the body such as arms, legs because their enemy wore no pants and face. But that was not what caused their faces to contort in agony.
The reason for this was their own armor, which broke under the impact of the shockwave and the shards of these fractures penetrated deep into the body cutting organs like a razor blade.
Without specialized care, their chances of survival are slim, fortunately for many all the pain was so severe that it became their cause of death, only a few lived to the end with heartbreaking cries of pain.
For a brief moment there was nothing but that, but the Prussians knew that it was not all of them, far behind the close combatants were archers, crossbowmen and slingers who of the three were the most dangerous because a stone thrown with considerable speed can stun even a knight in full armor.
"FUR POLEN UND KÓNIG!" Shouted the Captain after which he moved forward and began firing again at the enemies hidden in the distance.
"FUR POLEN UND KÓNIG!" Repeated after him by his men, who moved behind him to attack their opponents.
This was already too much for the attackers, they quickly threw themselves into a panicked retreat after a while, the siege ring was broken, and the recent defenders threw themselves into pursuit, eager to catch up with the enemy.
The chase did not last too long, passing more ruts, hills and giant trees chasing their opponent the Prussians arrived at a small clearing hidden in the shade of trees by a small stream.
There they discovered that the attackers had started running into an old gate, similar to Roman triumphal arches, which was connected to a hillock. The captain ordered a halt to the pursuit surprised by the find.
The surviving opponents from the chase, on the other hand, fled deeper into the building and the sound of their screams and running created an echo that bounced off the walls and reached them that they could hear them as if they were running right next to them.
Florian Tenner decided to make a mockery of himself and shouted one word in Polish with a thick German accent.
"ŚMIERĆ" (Death!)
The echo of his sneer echoed and went to the other side. Slowly quieting in the distance.
"Seriously?" Asked his colleague Geeler.
Tenner raised his finger to wait for an answer, as soon as the loud terror of the fugitives reached them he replied, "Yes."
"Man, don't scare the poor natives. I understand that you don't like Lourians for their bullshit..." Geeler started to lecture him but Nagel interjected.
"It's not Lourians."
Geeler turned to him puzzled, "What do you mean it's not the Lourians?"
"Exactly, how do you know it's not them?" Tenner added
"Look at this building, doesn't it remind you of something?" pointed out Nagel with his hand
Both soldiers looked, looked. Then they shook their heads.
"No."
"Void in the head."
Nagel put his hand to his forehead disgusted, then sighed, "This looks to me like a Roman-Greek style building. What's more, our opponents as I looked at them wore armor which clearly doesn't fit the theme of this continent for the natives wear Renaissance and late medieval armor."
"And these ones here," he pointed with his hand to the last fugitives killed in the chase, "wear armor fitting for the late Roman imperial period but before the total barbarization of the imperial armies."
"How did you know?" Tenner asked.
Nagel replied with a smile, "By the fact that they don't wear pants. The ancient Romans knew no such invention, the Germans did."
Tenner giggled involuntarily with Geeler.
"So am I to understand that we encountered someone other than Lourians?" Captain Mutig entered the discussion.
"Yes, Captain."
"I understand, Private." nodded the captain after which he issued new orders "Secure the area, set up lookouts. I have a feeling that this was not the only squad of these..." searched for the word
"Łymian?"* chuckled Tenner with a smile of chagrin, the captain sighed.
"Be that as it may, I have a definite feeling that this was not the only branch of the Łymians that came out of that Gate."
Loud laughter rang out for a moment, the captain just shook his head. "How am I supposed to report this to the Rotmistrz?"
Principality of Que-Tonye
18 February 1640 C.C.Y/ 2021 AD
Border City Gim
Command Staff of the 1st Marine Division.
Surprisingly, despite the frivolous name, Rotmistrz Kleist took the whole matter seriously. He quickly passed it on to his commander, Oddział (Batalion) Commander (in polish Oddziałowy) Klaus Neef, who commanded the Oddział, that is, the equivalent of a battalion in other countries which included the Rotmistrz's rota.
This one initially thought it was a silly joke at a time when tensions were rising more and more. Poland at the time was supporting two free countries and reorganizing their armed forces into a more effective fighting force, stabilizing Japan's economy to turn it back from the brink of the abyss.
In general, they wanted to deter the Lourians by their very existence but were preparing for war. Military sappers from all divisions were drawn to Roderius to build the roads, railroads and airfields that would be necessary in a possible campaign.
But there was no intention to attack, even though they could do so according to Arcadia's customs. Rather, the Commonwealth set its sights on continuing along the already tried-and-true path to take back Parpaldia's sphere of influence by softly influencing everyone in this way without a fight.
Another thing is that the official political doctrine when it comes to war in the Commowealth is the old doctrine of Just War. That is, Poland proclaims that it will not invade or conquer anyone, but only defend what is rightfully its due or defend those who themselves have asked Poland to do so.
The origins of this doctrine in Poland date back to the end of the Middle Ages for it was invoked by Polish diplomats under Wladyslaw II Jagiello in an attempt to peacefully reclaim Gdansk Pomerania, but it became official with the end of the 18th century when Poland, faced with the slowly sowing confusion in western Europe, announced that it would not interfere in the Franco-British dispute.
Shortly thereafter, the Poles were forced to test their words in practice for the first time when France turned into a revolutionary republic and went to war with all of Europe. Anyway, that was when the Poles allied with Britain for the first and only time.
The Revolutionary Wars were bloody and agonizing, especially between Poland and France for although both were republics at the time.
Where Poland was a Commowealth or Catholic republic-monarchy ancien regime where freedom was understood as the right to something and equality was not and still is not the main ideological principle.
There France was a Republic or secular revolutionary democracy where freedom was as freedom from something and equality was to apply to all.
In turn, both knew and understood the principles of brotherhood very similarly.
Ultimately, the Revolutionary Wars were won by Poland, for whom this series of conflicts became a factor of change in the entire system. Namely, the increase in the importance of the peasantry and the easing of antagonism between them and the nobility for it was the peasants in the darkest hour of the Commowealth who were the ones who defended it where the noble lords quarreled or even betrayed the homeland for revolutionary ideals.
In view of this, the changes were total, the requirement of nobility to be an officer was abolished, the institution of peasant representatives to the Diet was introduced, peasants were allowed to sit in assemblies and more than fifty thousand peasant families were granted coats of arms and incorporated into the nobility for their services to the fatherland in the spirit of the Enlightenment while creating a legal tradition of adopting peasants into the family of arms by their lords when they felt they deserved it.
I mention this because in Poland, the Roderius War has gained considerable public support over time, although this was for a number of reasons. One of the most notable, of course, is Que-Toyne's similarity with Poland's political system.
An electoral monarchy with the equality of the noble layer as the only one entitled to vote, while disregarding religious, cultural and racial differences when it came to its inhabitants.
Moreover, the local nobility was quite similar in thinking and ideals to the Polish nobility, which meant that the expeditionary troops in Que-Toyne very quickly found a common language with the natives.
In Quilla it was a little worse but it was also possible to communicate although Japan is much more preferred there, but Polish-Tunisian relations became exemplary and Poland quickly replaced Japan as a role model.
Hence, in Poland, a possible Que-Toyne war with Louria even became a personal matter. No less anxious to uphold their reputation as a benevolent and sympathetic power even in this world, the Poles avoided like hell any opportunity for a preemptive strike.
Not wanting to sign up as an aggressor in this war.
Therefore, Neef decided to deal harshly with the "jokers" and called on the rug the Rotamaster and, known as the black sheep in the unit, the entire second retinue from the fourth rota. What was initially intended to be a harsh sermon quickly turned into an argument that ended with Neef personally inspecting the building he found, the footage of the fighting and the battlefield around it.
The rotary governor, trusting his nevertheless trusted subordinate Captain Mutig who had been specially appointed as commander of this retinue in place of the previous one to turn the foul retinue into a real fighting force, sent reinforcements and supplies at once.
As it later turned out, they arrived at the last minute, for moments later the hammer fell on the positions of the second retinue in the form of the returning Łymians and the anvil of the new assault from deep inside the Gate. A fierce skirmish, limited due to the terrain to gunfire and grenades, ended with the final success of the Marine infantry, the newly attacking men escaped once again to where they had come from the Gate and the remaining Łymians on Roderius either died trying to break through to their own, were captured or fled deep into the forest.
The latter was a threat because their aggressiveness combined with panic by being cut off from their own could cause them to degenerate to the level of bandits and provoke a war because Louria could consider them Polish provocateurs.
Particularly since Parpaldia was formally a protector of Louria and in case of emergency could enter the war because it had a treaty with Louria stipulating that it would defend Louria from attack. The risk was all the greater because not going to war even on behalf of such an infamous kingdom as Louria undermined Parpaldia's diplomatic position, which of course the Empire could not afford.
And the war with Parpaldia, even if it would have been a mere formality for the Republic, was an unnecessary inconvenience as well as something bad in public opinion in Poland because it was an unnecessary shedding of blood.
Especially that while it was possible in Polish eyes to justify the war with Louria by the rightness of the actions taken, making the war with Parpaldia happen would be a considerable blow to the image of King Witold II and his effectiveness in the international arena in the eyes of the Poles.
For no one deceived themselves that for Parpaldia and Louria the war would not end in a one-sided heartless massacre.
You should know that these Poles do not like war, they do not like to fight. And if you tell them that they are a nation of great warriors they get offended. They fight wars because they have to, not because they want to. Of course they will show off their military, their fighting skills, but that's because they like just that. Showing off.
Showing what they can do, that's why in the Poland all sports competitions are incredibly popular and the Olympic Games are so popular that the Poles themselves have organized their own mini Commowealth Games happening every two years. Of course, they don't mind eager foreigners, indeed, they even often invite others themselves!
From there, Neef, seeing what was going on, gave the appropriate orders to look for fugitives and quickly went to the commander of the 1st Marine Regiment, Colonel Bjarn Buss explained the whole matter to him after which the latter supported him in his actions and together with him went to the commander of the 1st Marine Division, Legion Hetman Volker Wiekier.
"Come in!" Shouted the Hetman outside the door before the colonel knocked. Both officers looked at each other in wonder, how did he hear them? After all, this is a castle, and the walls and doors are really thick by what seemed to both of them that it was colder than outside.
The colonel opened the door first, followed by Neef. Neef took a quick look at the room he was in. It was the commander's personal office given to him by Lord-Captain Moizi of Gim, the local castellan and lord of Gim and the surrounding area.
Neef, like most of the officers, took a very quick liking to this beatsmen despite the initial shock due to the fact that he was not a man. Endowed with patriotism and loyal to his family, he did not make obstacles to the arriving Prussians. On the contrary, he was grateful for their arrival, Louria since the Japanese were forced to retreat again began to cast its long shadow over Gim.
In fact, he was devoid of illusions, knowing full well that if it came to war all he could do was to resist as long as possible by leaning on the city walls and the fortress, for his forces were insufficient to face the Lourians in the open field.
The study itself, meanwhile, was nice, decorated with leather and carpets on the walls. A fire burned merrily in the fireplace. And by the entrance wall stood an armor similar to those worn by the Crusaders during the Third Crusade. That is, a helmet closed but slightly larger than a human helmet because it had to accommodate the beastman's head, a chainmail with a superimposed tunic bearing the Gim family crest, large cavalry boots. At his belt an old sword in a simple scabbard.
The armor was old, and belonged to a distant ancestor of Moizi, the fourth lord of Gim a certain Rod called Blood, who defended Gim single-handedly when the village was just a village against an invasion of knight-bandits from neighboring Ladonia. According to ancestral legends, he fought alone against fourteen opponents with only a simple sword, killed them all cruelly and his armor was covered with their blood, but he himself was not wounded and from then on he was to wear his armor unwashed as a souvenir.
Neef had to admit that there was something in it, because although the armor showed traces of weapons, it was not pierced, and moreover there were traces of blood, faintly visible, but nevertheless noticeable. The effect of time and preservation spells.
The Hetman himself sat behind an old wooden and beautifully decorated desk, furnishing the room, in addition to which there were two old cabinets, a toilet and a sizable bed pushed aside.
Of modern things, of course, there was no shortage of a computer, a radio, a map hung on the frame showing the area of western Que-Toyne and eastern Louria taken from the air and launched into space by satellites.
In turn, the map showed markers depicting the deployment of Polish troops emerging as part of the Commowealth's Military Contingent "KUŁA-TOJNE".
The Hetman apparently signed something before entering because he saw a pen set aside and some papers in front of him, he was standing now when the two officers approached in front of the desk.
"Hetman!" The colonel spoke up after which he saluted along with Neef. The Hetman accepted the honor after which he signaled them to sit down.
"Well, tell me what's the matter?" The already gray-haired old man began, pulling out his favorite pipe and putting it in his mouth.
"An unforeseen event has occurred." spoke up first Colonel Buss.
The Hetman raised his eyebrows "You mean?"
This is where Neef came in, "My subordinates from the fourth rota under the command of Rottmeister Kleist, more precisely the second retinue led by Captain Mutig, encountered a new unknown contact provisionally named the łymians."
Hearing the name of the new contact the hetman involuntarily smiled "I will not go into where the name came from." He took his pipe out of his mouth and twirled it, pointing it at Neef "But seeing your serious face I guess that the matter you come with is urgent."
"That's right," nodded Neef, "Colonel and I have already taken appropriate action but we are concerned that our forces are insufficient to cover the needed area and guard the border at the same time, moreover, the other retinue has discovered an object that requires immediate security with special forces and contact with Warsaw."
"Object?" Asked the Hetman curiously
"My men," Neef pulled a paper folder out of his bag and then gave the Hetman photos in his hand, "found this structure above a small clearing in the forest west of the village of Drowaf at a distance of five kilometers. Interviews conducted among the peasants did not report the existence of this structure, moreover, neither did aerial photographs."
Hetman raised his eyebrows even higher when he got two aerial photos that were taken in that area.
On one it wrote January 15 and depicted only a sizable but nevertheless used forest without anything conspicuous. On the other it said February 15, with the annotation made fifteen hours after contact, and immediately striking was the appearance of a small clearing that revealed a stream covered by a canopy of trees and on it a large dome that was overgrown with vegetation.
He began to bite the mouthpiece of his pipe for a moment Hetman before saying, "It's... strongly disturbing." He then turned to Colonel Buss, "How far is it from the border?"
The colonel sighed, "Technically speaking, this is literally on the border. Through this forest should be the border between Louria and Que-Toyne but you know how it is with the level of technology here even if backed by magic.
"I see." Replied the Hetman after which he began biting the mouthpiece of his pipe again. "It complicates things. It complicates things a lot. If Louria finds out that we're operating there, they may consider it an invasion and a casus belli against Que-Toyne as well as call on Parpaldia for help because, after all, we're the ones who attacked them."
"Not only that, Hetman." Added Col.
"You mean?" Twisted his pipe Hetman
"Apparently, the Lymans sent a sizable reconnaissance group this side, we captured some prisoners but they are mostly badly wounded, and those who are left are not very willing to talk and when they do speak it is in a completely unknown language to us. And the others who did not return through the Gate..." Explained Colonel Buss
"A gate?" Hetman quipped.
"Yes the gate, for it looks like a triumphal arch connected to something that looks like the Pantheon in Rome with huge gates, and the retinue Captain Mutig sent out on reconnaissance reported that they had come out on some hills on which there was a Roman-style camp set up, to make matters worse after they passed through, all radio contact broke off and their navigation went dumb."
The Hetman nodded, "I see." For a moment his forehead wrinkled from thinking, Neef had to admit he had it plowed like a farm field before sowing.
When he thought about it, the Hetman said, tapping his pipe on the tabletop, "I'll take care of it, I know some suitable people who can speed everything up and owe me a favor. Until then, your regiment, Colonel Buss is to occupy and cut off the entire area, I'll reassign to you with two Oddział of 12 Yegers Regiment to help and Colonel Ehren Wolff's regiment will take over your duties."
"That's it?" Asked the Hetman
"If I may Hetman." spoke up Neef with a question
"Yes?" nodded the Hetman
"I ask for permission to secure the other side of the Gate. While the defense on this side may be quite simple, it is better to warn the Lymians and set up a retinue on the other side, there is no telling how much later they may draw men for a possible assault attempt." Neef started but saw that Hetman was not entirely convinced by the idea.
"I'm asking this because my men have encountered various strange creatures in the Łymians, even bigger beasts than on this side, more ferocious and resilient. It takes concussion grenades and anti-tank grenade launchers to get rid of them and they are not easy to kill anyway, especially in large numbers. And the terrain makes it impossible to bring down vehicles with adequate firepower, as well as to use circulating ammunition." He added in a slightly more pleading tone.
The old Hetman scratched his chin, it took a long while. Until Neef could see the beating on his face between allowing and forbidding. Both options were risky, after all, the Gate could suddenly disappear to cut off soldiers somewhere else, but the lack of a march to the other side limited knowledge as well as created the possibility that the enemy could knock down the sheer mass of numbers for his naval infantry there is limited only to small arms and support.
"I allow," he replied heavily after the fight, albeit very reluctantly. "Launch a pre-emptive strike, the Łymians attacked us anyway so formally there will be no problem. Secure the other side, put up a retinue and send out reconnaissance if possible."
"Anything else?" Asked the Hetman a second time, but did not get an answer so he nodded "You are dismissed, march away!"
As soon as the door closed the Colonel spoke up chastisingly "Did you have to do that Klaus?"
"Bjarn," began Neef, "I, unlike you as I ask you to protect your ass, it's for a good cause." After which he moved forward leaving the colonel behind.
"God damn you and your sense of mission." Complained the Colonel then smiled slightly "We need more like you."
*If they were English, he will be said Womans. You probably know the joke, right?