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| Lodged | From | Messages |
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| The tribe of sanghelios | I feel like expanding on my lore, but don't know how | |
| Rouge state of scotland | 🤷♂️ | |
 The Republic of Anatea | ||
| Assumptaria | Head Druid of Assumptaria Dies The news stations currently on air change their ties to a solemn black. The news currently not on tv will be seen wearing a black suit remiscient of those worn at funerals. All comedy shows on state owned tv channels or radios are pulled off the air and private owned tv channels and radios are expected to do the same. The soldiers in their military bases grieve as they listen to Cerei's Call. The song played to respect fallen soldiers. On all state owned property, the assumptarian flag is expected to be lowered. The replacement process for a Head Druid is simple. The druids were to hold an election. The only people allowed to run in said election were the druids themselves and the only people allowed to vote in the election are clergymen. Women are notably disallowed to both run in or vote for the election. The funeral will take place in a week. The funeral ship and location were strangely prepared shortly after the Head Druid was incumbent. The only delays will be waiting for the foreign representatives to arrive. | |
| Azureden | Arcrosse Facility The room was dark, a single halogen lamp glowing from the ceiling. "--Then what do we do, huh? The world could be up in arms any second. Paslin's already tossing their sh*t around. We're all dead if we don't do something!" The colonel and his superior, the esteemed Brigadier Michael Strigon, had their hands tied. The data leak meant two things. One, the Coalition was no longer the innocent angel it claimed to be. Two, Lila and Tim were out there somewhere. And they were alive. The very thought made Edward's blood boil. The general glanced across the map that sprawled across a bleak white folding table. They were locked in isolation. "What's the parliament going to do? Probably chicken out of it and immediately go for the ceasefire. But we need all their resources if we want any chance." "Mhm. What about our mutual friend, Mr. Acerbialis?" "I know Narvik well. He's only in it for the power. He'll do whatever he needs to clutch whatever little authority he has left." "Would he go for the ceasefire?" "Absolutely. Especially if he wants any sliver of redemption from the public, that's what he'll do." "But what if the people wouldn't support a continuation of the war? What if they don't back us up?" "Oh, they will, colonel. Every man, woman, and child has something out there that strikes pure terror into them. We're going to exploit their deepest fears, and remove the cowards." The colonel merely nodded at the table. "So, then... what's your plan?" "Parliament needs to be shown what we think." "You're gonna..." "Take the war to their doorstep. When we burn every trace of them to the ground in a pit of fire, that will show them who is in charge. Then... we won't have the obstacle in our way any longer." The colonel squinted, raising an eyebrow as he frowned. "Couldn't we usher them out? You know, without painting the walls of the complex with their blood?" "No. You don't see, do you?" The curtness of the answer hit him like a punch in the gut. He opened his mouth, simply to ask why, but he pinched himself to stay quiet. The general merely tipped his head. "If the Parliament isn't with us, they're against us. And if they're against us, we cannot afford to keep them alive. Not while they hold political power." The colonel merely sighed at the table. "...Fine. I'll leave you to that." "You seem reluctant." The colonel rubbed his temples as he looked at the map again. "I am, general. I am. I fear that we'll only suffer a harder fall." "Don't worry, Edward. Remember what's at stake." The colonel was silent. Deathly silent. | |
| Azureden | Suburban Districts of Barkhan It was raining, dim silhouettes of buildings dimly lit by the rising sun. Draped in the dark haze was a three-thousand-strong assembly, all gathered across the city's sidewalks, smaller sects going their separate ways to find their place. Visible, but not in the way. Picket signs rose across the city for the eleventh consecutive day. DO THE RIGHT THING, they said. FOR PEACE AND JUSTICE, they said. REMEMBER THE FALLEN, they said. But the rallying cry was clear. WE WANT OUR COUNTRY BACK And yet, as silent as could be, the Azuri refugees gathered in the public areas with their signs and candles, clad over in their rain jackets and ponchos. But looking in their eyes, their eyes were glazed over with desperation. With Anatea's departure from the Union, and their host's continued reluctance to get involved, their chances for support were falling. The last thing they wanted was to be a thorn in the side of the Gabrielts who had sheltered them, but that was revealing itself to be a necessary evil in their pursuit of a war of liberation. They wanted to fight the scourge that had exiled them from their homes, to take back what they held dear. Yet they couldn't. They needed their host's help. But their persistence had fallen on deaf ears-- for eleven long days. And as patience fades away, anxiety eminently turns to anger. Back across the border, that anger would soon ignite the seething flames. Soon... | |
| Medovia | Vote Medovia for Director of Enforcement! My Experience I have been part of NS for some time already: I was the owner of the now inactive nation of Bratislav, which was founded in 2013 and went on to found a rather successful region (Atlas), alliances, and many RPs. After a period of hiatus, I decided to found Medovia as my primary nation and was so happy when I found Anteria, which has been an exemplary community filled with various talents and people serious about nation development. I have been a moderator in several platforms, especially forums. I have experience with enforcing rules in a respectable manner. How would I serve? My goal as Director of Enforcement would be to firstly be a friend to everyone here in Anteria. As a director of enforcement, I do not seek to be above you, but rather to help the community stay true to a set of standards that makes it a civil and respectable place for all. I hope in the process to earn the trust of the members throughout the time. How active am I? I am the of course the owner of the Republic of Medovia. You can read more about my country in the iiwiki. I have been very active in developing my country and sharing that with the members of Anteria. I everyday read messages on the RMB and Discord even if I don't comment. I try in any case to always be up-to-date on what is occurring in our region, with #today-in-Anteria one of the best mediums for that. I value quality gameplay and creative approaches to nation building! Closing Remarks Not to take too much of your time, but I hope I can earn your vote! Whatever happens, we are all in this together as we build a better and stronger community! | |
| Azureden | Arcrosse Facility https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=trIZ2yHVuvg ----------------------------------------------------------------------- The clock in the tower rang in the provincial capital of Skyden, sending out its eerie chime as it struck the hour. It was silent. Deadly. Haunting. Twelve kilometers to the northeast, the purr of military diesel engines rumbled through the air. An army of twenty-five-hundred lay in wait in the assembly yard, ready to roll out on command. General Strigon gazed down on his entourage gathered below him from the peak of the communications building. Centered in front of his face was the intercom speaker, one that would normally transmit across the base. But they'd since expanded the broadcast platforms. A quartet of radio microphones huddled around the central receiver. A TV camera had been retrofitted at the corner, obediently watching the general as he checked his watch. "It's time." A collective click permeated the room. Switches, buttons. A gentle whine, a faint electric hum soon followed. "--We're live." The general let out a slow and steady sigh as the chirp of the intercom echoed across the base. All in unison, the soldiers in the assembly yard glanced up towards the main tower. "My friends. Tonight brings about a time of revolution. Tonight will be a time of change, for we must take the fate of this nation into our own hands if we seek to preserve it. To sit idle will be the imminent destruction of what we hold dear, everything we love. The communists remain a lethal threat. We cannot sit on our hands and let them fester in their den. The Dokodo Union will bring us nothing but an intermission; no matter how much blood waters our soil, you cannot kill their impassioned flames. All of those who dare tread on our sovereignty, our way of life, must be eradicated like the disease that they are! The slate must be wiped clean, this menace annihilated. ONE RAT AT A TIME! And yet, who twiddles their thumbs, waiting for foreigners to do hardly half the job!? The very parliament itself, and we cannot let their cowardice guide us! Those with genuine power and confidence must take the reins to see our fight through to the end! That, friends, is wherein lies my proposal. Exercise our democracy to show anyone spineless enough to give up just how we feel about their treachery! Narvik Devon cannot control us with the dying flicker of what power he has. We cannot let him stifle our fight to protect ourselves. Our enemies lie in their holes all around us, and while they continue their fight, we will continue ours! And we will not stop until they are broken and bloodied at our feet! I want to see the cowardice burn away. You are to march on Skyden tonight. You are dismissed! Destroy them at the roots! GO!" The assembly yard came alive, as fists rose into the air and the engines roared, vehicles parading down onto the service road, on the route straight to Skyden, the Coalition's political epicenter. The colonel merely watched the back of the general's head as the microphones went dead, and the room was finally silent. The scowl on his face was masked by the darkness. He opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't dare say. The words hung obediently on his tongue, yet they'd never leave. "You've lost your d*mn mind," he would have said. | |
| Neo ostania | Hello, nations of Anteria, I am the leader of the nomadic nation, of Neo Ostanua, and I would like to say hello! | |
 The Embodiment of Hope of The Byrdlands | ||
| Wee-woo howdy banditry | ||
| Prybourne | ||
| Wee-woo howdy banditry | ||
| Rouge state of scotland | ||
| Paslin island | Entrance to the Azureden Straits The commander watched as the rain poured down, clouding the windows of his ship's bridge. Heavy waves rocked the small destroyer, splashing onboard every once in a while, showering the unfortunate sailor in the way of it. He sighed and sipped his coffee. The landings unexpectedly had been delayed as the heavy storms ran in, throwing a wrench, along with a drill, hammer, and chainsaw, in their plans. The navy hadn't stayed idle at least; as he peered past the downpour, he spotted the various troop ships rocking in the waves alongside his ship. There were tons, ready to drop troops once a port has been captured. It also meant, however, that the Coalition had time to prepare as well. He looked around the bridge, where his crew was watching their monitors closely, with a few yawning, and many with a coffee mug beside them. He took another sip from his own cup. A feeling of dread hung around him. He didn't look forward to the landings now; he wished the rain would continue, stopping any chance of a landing forever. The radio buzzed to life, jolting the bridge from a dead silence. "Commander Mark. The meteorologist has just come in; we can expect clear skies in the next few days. Prepare your ships, go over the plan a couple more times, and be ready to depart." The commander rubbed his eyes. The time was coming. If he had to shoot down the dragons to protect his men, then so be it. If the gods punish me for shooting down the very same pilots that saved him from the afterlife months prior, let them; I will fully understand why they do. | |
via Lands End | The federation of spokane | |
| Datharia | Greetings from the Celtic Pagan nation of Datharia! Hatstheput, Junterland, Paslin island, Rouge state of scotland, and 2 othersCornut, and Wee-woo howdy banditry | |
| Rouge state of scotland | ||
| Nightthorn | You are a welcome addition to Anteria, as most others are. Be sure to join the region's discord, as that will provide many things to further immerse yourself into the roleplay that occurs here and a way to cement yourself onto the world map. I, and I hope others, look forward to your participation in Anteria. | |
| Paslin island | ||
| Azureden | Directus Broadcasting Building, Downtown Directus https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HTk7tRXLwXg ----------------------------------------------------------------------- The camera feed came to life. The TV broadcast was live. The immediate scene faded into view; the smoke-masked skyline of Skyden, a destroyed tank, the towering columns of smoke, and the parliament building, hardly recognizable through the fires that clung to its walls. There had been a battle here. For three days, the government's loyalists, those acquainted with moderacy and seeking a means to an end, had entrenched themselves into a defensive perimeter around the walls of the facility. Outnumbered, surrounded, and outgunned, there was no chance. But with nowhere to run, they'd fought their last stand to the bitter end. To show for it, at least a hundred or more nooses hung from the walls. Narvik Devon was the one exception, whereas his corpse lay pinned against the flagpole in the front courtyard, noose dangling from the top pulley. There's a voice in the backdrop as the troops march along. "These cowardly ideals die here. You fight for security and justice in our country or face the slaughter from the demons all around us. Join this fight and together, where we'll pull this country from the brink. Or die." The camera cuts. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Derek Salinti sat at the anchor's desk, perched up on the second floor of the broadcasting station watching the TV footage of the scene in Skyden cut to black. He was all alone in the room-- not another soul in the building. The voice echoed in his head. "--We'll pull this country back from the brink... or die." "--or die..." Join them. Or die. He looked out the shattered window. The crater in the street where the fourth bomb had exploded was still there, charred black. This was the place it had all started, the beginning of the bloodshed. The moon was bright tonight. The lights inside the station were still on, dimly illuminating the desk and the transmitting equipment. He could see it again. The protests, the maimed bodies, the shattered glass. His brother was right all along. Aidan had gone north to join the Azurites to fight political extremism, to preserve the peace. They failed. Aidan had died in the final battle on the slopes of Avalon, evacuating as many of the northern residents as they could before they were overwhelmed. He had met his bloody end just like all the others, the militia annihilated by the Blue Coats' onslaught. Derek could still hear his voice, the last thing Aidan had said to his elder brother before his death: "You know, Narvik was right. While the two sides exist, there can't be peace. That's what our fight is. We can't entrust the future to them; they'll destroy everything in the name of their ideologies and fanaticism. You see what I mean?" Derek hung his head with a shallow nod as he sat back down at the desk. "...I see what you mean, Aidan. I... I should have figured it out sooner..." The moisture of teardrops began to collect in his eyes. "--GAH!! D*MNIT!!" He slammed his fist on the anchor's desk, the searing anger and sorrow masking the jolt of pain up his arm as he wept, his face buried down on the hardwood. It took him a full ten minutes to completely drain his tear ducts. With a shaking sigh, he rose his head, ever so slightly, looking across the desk. The microphone rested at his fingertips, obediently standing five inches from his face. The TV camera and other receivers were all still hooked up, waiting for their next order. The spark of an idea kindled in his brain at that very moment. "...He would've wanted me to spread the word..." All of the equipment was ready. All it would take is turning it on. "That's it! Of course!" He sat up, the tears starting to dry on his cheekbones into a pale glaze in the low light. "Right, right. Okay..." He sighed to steady himself, straightening out his tie. He didn't know what to say, but he knew that, whatever he said, people would rally behind it. They'd seen too much, but if the two greater powers couldn't end the war, then the people would do it themselves. Directus would burn tonight. He spent the next five minutes rigging all of the equipment to a single central control on his desk. He could control the radio frequencies, the TV feed; all of it with the press of a button. He sat down once more in his chair, the button tucked under his finger. Here goes. He pressed the button. All in unison, LED lights came on. There was a muffled burst of static, and a gentle hum of machinery. The city waited to listen. With one last sigh, he spoke. "Good evening, everyone-- my name is Derek Salinti of the DBC. I interrupt your scheduled programming to give you this public service announcement..." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- | |
| Azureden | Directus Broadcasting Building, Downtown Directus https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2T3OJv9voUg ----------------------------------------------------------------------- With the hiss of radio static, and TV sets across the city coming to life, with Derek at his desk. The people garnered enough attention to notice the distraction. "--For six months, our war has dragged on. For six months, I've gone to sleep wondering if the next day will be the last time I ever see the sunrise." The city was dead silent. "This has gone on for too long. We must bring about an end to the violence before we undo the centuries that Azura gave to us. She would put shame to us for what we've done, unraveling everything that our predecessors did in creating the paradise we once were." He pauses for a moment, collecting his thought. He knew the Coalition was listening. The Blue Coats were listening. All eyes and ears were tuned in on him. "Tonight, I ask everyone the same questions. What did this war accomplish for us? Was it all worth the bloody price!?" His voice progressively deepened with malice. "There are thousands of people, like you and I, who don't know when or where their next meal is coming! People who manage to get by in the bombed-out ruins of what they called home, wondering if they'll be dragged into the service of a war that isn't theirs or if they'll be rounded up and executed...!" There were voices and some commotion out on the street. He kept talking. He was going to get his message out whether they liked it or not. "The Coalition and Blue Coats keep going at each other's throats, trying to destroy the other no matter the cost. And for what!? Look around you! Men, women, and children alike are out on the streets, starving and scavenging, fighting each other just to survive, no matter what the Dokodo Union does! Haven't you done enough damage!?" There's a ringing of noise outside. It's a small crowd assembled outside, listening. "But no! They must continue their fight, putting their ideological gain above the people! Neither of these political extremes can be trusted with the future of our country!" Derek's gaze shifted out the window as there was a rumble of military diesel engines. The voices from the pack of devotees became progressively more anxious as the approaching vibration got ever louder. "I had a brother who fought in the Azurites up in the north. They fought for a better country, one where we could all come together to repair the nation as it was, not tear it apart! And what happened to them? The two political extremes stomped on them like an insignificant pest as they tore at each other, with no regard for the human cost of their greed! My brother is one of many individuals, ones with friends and family just like you, who dared the risk, knowing that what they fought for was for the greater good! And these animals killed them!" BANG! He shook. What the f*ck was that...? There was a full-scale riot outside the doors. CPC military police were trying to force their way towards the news station, but the crowd that had assembled was dug-in, forming a defensive wall of bodies. Protecting him. One of the policemen had discharged his gun to disperse them, but the citizens of Directus held their line. He had to finish this up fast, or things were going to get extremely bloody. But it wasn't like it mattered. He'd already crossed the line. "That's why I come to you tonight, Directus. You all want an end to this war as much as I do! But we cannot simply sit on our hands and pout until they stop killing each other! We must fight back against the warmongers if we want to end it! THEN RISE, DIRECTUS! FIGHT BACK!" At that moment, he'd almost wished he hadn't said anything at all. A barrage of gunfire tore through the wall, riddling the desk full of holes and shattering whatever window glass was still present. The mob in front of the station exploded into a fury, pushing back against the encirclement of military police, cleaving into them with rocks, glass shards, and even a few Molotov cocktails. The few carrying compact-carry pistols saw their chance. As soon as their guns were brandished, the policemen don't hesitate, opening fire at point-blank range. It was a sound Derek wished he'd never had to hear again. Worse still, he was the root cause of anyone who had their lives cut short tonight. A battered man came up the stairs into the broadcasting room. The deep red blood stains stuck out on the white T-shirt. "You're that guy, right?" "You'd bet your *ss, why?" "We will get you out of here." "But I--" "There is no time. We must hurry!" Another volley of gunfire tore through the wall. "--On second thought, I won't argue. Lead the way." The streets were burning as gunshots rang out all around them. The dim skyline of Directus was vanishing into the haze of smoke. The flames... of hatred? Or of liberation? There was only one thing he knew for certain as they tread lightly out of the back of the building. He'd been the spark. There was a silver sedan, inconspicuously tucked in an alley on the other side of the parking lot. "There's your ride! The keys are inside! Run! RUN!" "I-- okay!" There was another volley of fire exchanged as he ran. He went as fast as his legs would carry him. His prophecy had come true. With his words, Directus would feel the heat of war once again. It was at that point that he didn't have any regrets. And not once did he look back. | |
| Double monei | Double Monei has entered the top 10% of most armed. | |
| Paslin island | Off the Coast of Azureden The waves were surprisingly calm, compared to a week prior, when the violent crashes of mother nature brought their wrath on the unfortunate fleet, sitting at anchor at the middle of the Canton Straits. The white moon shone clearly through the cloudless sky, illuminating the iron giants running through the water. The commander peered from his bridge, astonished himself by the peacefulness of the night compared to weeks prior. Nature can truly be random... He looked around at the sailors around him who were on the late-night shift. Many had black rings around their eyes, exhausted from many sleepless nights, rocking around in their beds as the waves shook the small destroyer; some were even starting to nod off now, with the calm waves lulling them to sleep. He yawned. Even he was tired, as accustomed as he was to violent storms. "Commander, go get some sleep. I can take over from here." The commander turned and found the lieutenant dressed in his uniform, coffee in hand. The commander shook his head. "I can continue for a few more hours. Go back to sleep. The landing isn't until tomorrow, anyways." "You look dead on your feet, commander. Seriously, go grab some sleep. Some other sailors have even come up for their shift early." A sailor peeked out from behind the lieutenant and waved hello. "All of you should go to sleep early. Trust me, you'll need it." The commander sighed. Stubborn as always, Charles. He yawned again and stretch. The bed does sound good now, though... "Fine. But I'll be buying you some drinks from the cafeteria next time, alright?" The lieutenant grinned. "Sounds good to me." Moonlight shone softly through the small window, illuminating the few belongings he had with him. A pen sitting on a desk. A paper lying flat. An old radio. Mark stared at the old, beaten up radio. It was one of those old radios that you'd see in a 1900s movie; his father bought it for the family when he was young. It was the only keepsake that survived the nuclear bombs. Over the years, Mark had repaired it, upgraded it, made it able to hear and communicate from farther away; not like lots of people used such old radios nowadays for communication. It did, however, allow him to play music. Mark sat up and reached over for the radio. He held the old tool gingerly in his hand, and started to switch between channels. One channel played some classical music. Another news from a Canton radio. Then he switched one more time. "-we interrupt this broadcasting from Directus Radio Station to bring you the following announcement; fighting has broken out in the streets, as the people of Directus revolt over Coalition rule. The populace has proclaimed they had enough of war, and are now fighting to free themselves from the CPC rule to not be forced to fight their fellow Azurites." The commander blinked. A revolt? In... Directus? "Many moderates of the army have joined hands with the populace, and street to street fighting has started as the citizens of Directus begin barricading houses and attacking CPC loyalist troops. We from the Directus Radio Station have a message to all citizens of Directus: join us in the fight, and help us beat back the extremist CPC! Let us bring an end to this terrible war, this war that has killed children and pitted brothers against sisters; let us once again bring peace back to Azureden, and ensure our future generations never fight in such a war again!" The commander grabbed a jacket, and rushed out of the room to the bridge. Bursting in a disheveled mess, the crew on shift jumped at the sight of him. The lieutenant stared. "M-Mark?" The commander looked back at the lieutenant. "Get the fleet admiral on the line." | |
Post by Dacovah suppressed by a moderator. |
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