Total War: Girl Genius [IC]

[Madwand]

To Mountain King
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OOC: it was just poor planning on my part in last attack.. but this time it will be diffrent!

Yes, I think it is good plan. We will start preparation right now.

[ArcaneStomper]

To Anti-Skulding Alliance and GM

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Well, that's why we're using scouts and whatnot to find them. If they manage to evade the scouts, then sure...

CONTINGENCY
In the event the Skuldings use their super-plot-Mary-Sue powers to evade every one of our scouts and go ninja a superior force in the face with one hand tied behind their backs, because SKULDINGZ R AWESUM!!!! then we liberate the Theosophs, and go conquer Norway. We give the Theosophs governance of Norway, use the resources gained from the assault to fortify the hell out of it, and taunt the hell out of the Skuldings.

Can you tell I'm tired of the Skuldings? I'm sorry if it's coming across as overly snarky. Just annoyed by the fact that they always seem to get their way, and the only folks who ever beat them were NPC's.

Lost Demiurge

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And yet the Skulding have never actually attacked you. And if a coalition had ever managed to hold together for more than a turn they probably would have gone down a while ago. So don't blame them. They don't have any special rules. They've taken their poundings. Anyone could have done what they did. But none of you tried.

[Lost Demiurge]

Lost Demiurge

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And yet the Skulding have never actually attacked you. And if a coalition had ever managed to hold together for more than a turn they probably would have gone down a while ago. So don't blame them. They don't have any special rules. They've taken their poundings. Anyone could have done what they did. But none of you tried.

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Yeah, I know. Getting coalitions moving in this game has been like herding cats. It was a little understandable when we were going after the Glorious Army, I mean that was a fellow PC, so some folks probably went easier on him. But for an NPC? That's hit PC's repeatedly? Good LORD, people have been surprisingly grudgeless.

On the other hand, this has kept the game interesting. Instead of stalemate due to large amounts of pacted allies, we've actually got independent PC's moving around each other, pursuing their own agendas, and not afraid to fight if it comes down to it.

There's a reason I stuck with this game for many turns, and there's a reason I'll stick with it even if I get thumped here. This one's got me on the edge of the seat...

[ArcaneStomper]

Turn 17

Battle in the Fog
The battle in Theosoph lands is fierce. Fog obscures the battlefield as the hulking machines of the mountain king release great quantities of it into the air to obscure the battlefield. To the observers of various nations watching the battle it is one of mostly sounds on the ground and little can be told of what is going on. In the air however it is a different story. They Transylvanian airfleet outguns the Loki Brigade fleet and soon it looks like the battle will be won for hte coalition in the air, but then the ground begins to tremble and shake. A great shape can just be made out pulling itself from the ground on great splayed legs. Huge of volleys of fire soon fill the sky with a rain of metal forcing the Transylvanian fleet to pull back.

As the fog and smoke clears both sides pull back and regard each other over the carnage of the battlefield. A stalemate has been achieved, but even so the forces at play equaled anything that occurred in the Great War and casualties were high on both sides. As the opposing forces pull back to tend their wounds the screams of the dead and dying echo over the battlefield. It is only then that the observers note that across the battle a large force of Parisian mercenaries with furled banners watch the scene unfold from atop a small hill.

England woos the Kaiserina
Rumors have it that the shadowy English have stepped into the light. The crown prince and son of her undying majesty has begun to court Kaiser Grimwald's eldest daughter with promises of political power and a treasure trove of gifts from the secret vaults of the English Crown.

Bulgarians Clean out Spain
Tsar Damyanov has declared the remaining the monsters to be a blight on Europa and the Bulgarian Empire will no longer tolerate their presence roaming unchecked. In response to his orders scores of Bulgaria envoys have negotiated with and persuaded the monsters at least somewhat amiable to reason. And the Smiling Soldiers have dealt with those who proved to recalcitrant.

The Jaegers Ride
The Heterodyne enjoyed a quiet celebration in the fields of France as she celebrated her 18th birthday. The next day the entire Jaeger horde moved out in a massive Jaeger ride with the Heterodyne at their head. Their first stop was Italy where she called upon her allies to join her in a glorious ride. Thousands of citizens joined her on borrowed horses as the massive horde moved towards North towards the Swiss Alps.

Glorious Construct Revolution
Acts of rebellion continue across much of Europa as the various constructs rebel against their creator. This is nothing new, many a creature has gone rogue in the past. But now they the rogues know of each other. Their rebellion has form and substance. Their symbol is a clenched red fist appears in dusty allies across the continent, and rumors of their leader the Construct Amidias round the tavern halls.

Scavengers Loot the Dead
On battlefields across Europa rusty war machines lay silent testimony to the war wracked continents history, and few if any desire to go to the effort to clean up the detritus of the fallen. But where the princes and barons see trash the gutter dwellers of the world see opportunity. Bands of skulking drifters have begun scouring the wastes looting the dead and preying on the unwary.


Paris Reborn
The lights of Paris are lit again. But not with the lights of innumerable Opera houses and museums. No these are the lights of forges. The business of mercenaries and arms dealers have long gone hand in hand. And the greatest collection of mercenaries on the continent has now attracted the greatest of the Death Merchants. Collectively they are known as the Weaponsmiths. And many displaced sparks with nowhere else to go have joined their ranks. The forges of Paris burn all night and the Weaponsmiths are ready to meet the needs of their clients. Both the Parisian Mercenaries and any other who might meet their price.

[Lost Demiurge]

TWO DAYS BEFORE THE BATTLE OF THE CRATER
(Interlude in Steam and Glory)

They'd planned and they'd prepared, and they'd stoked their fires and called their banners.

Three of them, and three alone out of all the "civilized" nations of Europa. The Mountain King had shaken his head... New Morlockians were looked at askance for their subterranean preferences, pale skin, and casual attitude toward humanity and "rogue" experiments. Transylvanians had a long history of blood and death, and the Celts in Exile were still as angry, warriorlike, and woad-painted as they'd ever been.

But all of them, all of US had a common foe, and that was enough.

If no one stands, then eventually all will kneel. Thought the Mountain King, as he strapped into his armor. If no one rises against the bully, then he only gets stronger. And every day, he finds someone weaker to prey upon. Even then, that alone would not have been enough to draw New Morlockia into the fight. Even then, they could have stayed out of it. But for one thing.

They used our tunnels to raid and kill innocents. They used OUR tunnels!

Phase I had taken a decade, and it wasn't entirely finished but it was well enough completed. Tunnels stretched under the bulk of Europa, twisting and turning.

A map had been stolen once. That had set things back. Important areas had to be changed, and that had been done with a minimum of compliant. But still, it had been a setback.

Phase I had united his country, driven their industry, their pride, and their economy. Every New Morlockian alive had either worked on part of them, contributed to a task that aided their construction, or had a parent who did. The Tunnels were a wonder of the modern day, and one day they would be the infrastructure that tied a new world together. One day, when things settled down and tyrants were thrown down, and the lawless were brought to heel, the tunnels would be a safe and profitable route of trade and travel for all of Europa. And perhaps beyond...

His people had kept them clear of monsters, for years. Every one found that used the Tunnels as a lair had been shot or recruited. Every outbreak, every threat that had gotten down there had been destroyed in battles that the surface world would never know or hear about.

The tunnels had been opened for refugees, many many times. Many of the survivors of the Darkling plague owed their lives to the tunnels, and the brave men who held them against the mistborne monsters. Many people sundered by war had traveled them to safety, fed with Morlockian mushroom rations, and their way lit by mosslights. Many had returned to the world above, but some had stayed, to build and develop the tunnels that had preserved so many.

The tunnels were the pride of the nation, the seed of glory, from the scorned and mistrusted folk of New Morlockia.

And the Skuldings, those destroyers and raiders and builders of NOTHING that didn't let them STEAL more easily, the Skuldings that STOLE and KILLED and LAUGHED at the innocents they trampled. THEY. HAD. USED. THOSE. TUNNELS. TO. RAID!

It had taken years to gather the strength to oppose the bully. Years of patience, years of building, years of pleading on bent knee to this ally or that. The great powers could care less, busy with their own intrigues.

Years of work, of drawing back the arm. Of cursing when the foulness that was Loki's Brood escaped the trap meant to stop them from strengthening the bullies.

Years of work, drawing back the arm. Now the first punch would land.

Now it was time to unveil Phase II... If not to the world, then to their most hated of enemies...

(Continued shortly)

[Lost Demiurge]

THE MORNING OF THE BATTLE

The vast engines shuddered to a stop, and the Mountain King smiled beneath his facemask.

It had been some work getting the Diggernaughts under the battlefield. It would be worth it. Already, the Celts approached from the ground, and the Transylvanian air fleet was winging in from north and east.

The scouts had reported that Loki's Brood was in the air, near the captive Theosoph fleet.

Pity, that. New Morlockia's ruse to draw them off had failed. No help for it. On the other hand, this made things easier...

The Skuldings had forgotten.

They had forgotten that they were RAIDERS.

In their arrogance, they had moved from snatch and grab MOBILE tactics, to CONQUEST.

In their arrogance, they had stopped MOVING.

The Skuldings were, strong, too. Fighters all. But they had just sacrificed their biggest advantage. This was what he had been waiting for, for years. The arm had started forward, and the fist was coming at them in the form of the alliance...

And then the air fleets met, and the battle was joined.

The first casualties were in the Vanguard. Five Tunnelstriders fell, sabotaged at some

point prior. The Celts cared not, running on past clad in their Steelwoad and revving their chainswords. The rest of the Mountain King Tunnelstriders on the surface carefully stepped on mechanical legs over the remnants of their fallen colleagues and soldiered on.

From behind them, the mercenary artillery guns boomed, shelling the advancing Skulding tanks.

In the air, Loki's Brood and Transylvania exchanged shots. Airships fell burning from the sky, too many of them transylvanian, too soon. FAR too soon.

No help for it.

In the tunnels, ten full squads were stuck puking into their gasmasks. Looked like Loki's brood had managed to slip them bad hash, the night before. They were out of the fight...

But it didn't matter.

Now, the time had come.

"RISE." The Mountain King commanded, and the tapcode relayed it between down the chain.

In each engine room, the Diggernaught pilots heard and knew. "RISE".

They broke the surface, devastating twenty square miles of Theosoph land.

They broke the surface, sending Skulding Walkers tumbling and crushing them beneath rubble. They broke the surface, and for one glorious minute, seven domes two miles in diamater and BRISTLING with gun emplacements saw the light of day for the first time ever. Doors slammed open, and from each streamed fresh troops. Firing ports opened, and a withering barrage of artillery started to trace its path through the foes!

"FOG." He commanded. "FOG." And carried by tapcode, the command was heard. Bags of the powder specifically prepared for this moment were dumped into each diggernaught's reservoir, and in an instant water was converted to water vapor.

Twenty square miles of water vapor.

The Skuldings were down to close combat, now. Close combat and firing blind. In the air, Loki's Brood circled into a defensive formation. They had anti-fog measures, true, but those measures were not weaponized. They were not suited to this situation.

The goggles and weapon sights that New Morlockia had produced and distributed to their allies, WERE.

The battle began in earnest, then. The Skulding ground forces were legion, and far more than initially reported. But whatever else they were, they were brave. And they died, and they died, and they died. New Morlockian ground troops and walkers fell as well, and Transylvania, poor Transylvania took the brunt of it. The Celts, too, bled for every inch of broken ground.

Finally, as the Skuldings showed some sense and moved from the fog, meeting up with the scarred warships of Loki's Brood, the coalition did the same.

On the battlefield, the Mountain King reluctantly removed himself from the fight. He'd accounted for two of the Skulding tanks, but not without some serious damage... And the biggest threat currently on the field was from the Skulding's OWN tunnels. They'd created a giant spider clank, armored and armed to the teeth. Smaller than his own megaweapons, mind, but much as armed and armored as any two or three of them.

As he clambered back to the command post, he settled himself upon the seat once more, and surveyed what he could see of the Diggernaughts with pride.

Each one the size of a city. Each one armed to the teeth. Each one armored with a shell hard enough to withstand the pressures of the earth's mantle. And each one had passed their first test with flying colors.

THAT was Phase II. Tunnels beneath the continent were good and all, but you needed something to guard them. The Diggernaughts were the answer to that!

But for all their teeth, the meat was proving tough to chew. His frown returned, as he perused reports. The Skuldings were dying nicely, but the Brood was barely touched. And they had both fed well upon the Theosophs... Their materiel was much more than had been initially anticipated.

He looked over his battered allies, and grimaced.

It might just be time to move on to Phase III after all...

[Lost Demiurge]

Mountain King to Kaiser's Guard
ESPD: +++++ +++-

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Y'know, it occurs to us that the Skuldings aren't our only enemies in this little battle we've got going.

It also occurs to us that we are going to be very, very generous to our friends who aid us in this time of need.

If you'd be willing to speak further, by all means we'll send an envoy. We've kept a few out of the fight.

Mountain King to Theosophs
ESPD: +++++ +++-

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Everyone okay? Good. Your lands are going to be a mess after this is done, but we'll sort the invaders out for you.

Incidentally, if you'd like to shift us some support (That need not be military), we would be thankful for it. Might be able to return some of the stuff the Skuldings stole to your possession.

And it's a chance to hit them when they're on their way down, a bit of revenge for what they almost did to you...

Mountain King to Baron Wulfenbach
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Gunter Schmidt delivers the letter personally.

"Dear Baron. For the moment, we release you from the responsibility of guarding our cities from monsters. Our cities are currently out fighting the good fight, and at the minute are capable of guarding themselves."

"However, in the event that we must retreat, we would not object to friendly forces covering our retreat through the tunnels, north to our old lands."

"Regards,
-The Mountain King"

Mountain King to Bulgaria
ESPD: +++++ +++-

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Thank you for sorting out Spain, we appreciate it. We'd hoped to do that earlier, but, well... You know how it is.

Mountain King to Coalition of Anti-Skulding notables
(Transylvania and Celts in Exile)
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Alright. Been a hell of a fight, but I reckon we can do this. You are both blessed with many, many great warriors, and they will sing ****ing songs of our bravery for centuries after we win.

Not that we're adverse to letting a few more people play, here. Trying to scrape up some additional support from outside, but no guarantees yet.

We've got one last trump card to play, which should bring New Morlockia's forces about equal to the Skulding forces... At a price, but in for a penny, in for a pound.

You guys good for round 2?

[ArcaneStomper]

The Theosophs to the Mountain King

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We have very little to give. The majority of our attention must be given over to evacuating our city to safety. And you have our thanks for distracting the Skulding from their looting. But we will see what we can do to aid you.

The Baron to the Mountain King

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Very well I will allocate some forces to guarding the border. However be aware that the Skulding are not the only forces circling this fight. Be cautious so that you do not find yourself in battle with more than two sides.

The Celts in Exile to the Mountain King

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We will continue this fight. Although we would draw your attention to the approaching Jaeger horde. We are not sure what exactly the Heterodyne's intentions are, but we doubt that the Jaegers would be so riled up if she only intended a peaceful tour of the countryside.

[Madwand]

Transylvania to Mountain King and Celts in Exile

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Yes, I am still willing to fight. I am not only concerned with Jaggers. We have someone helping Skuldlings and Loki's Brigade against us. It is highly disturbing.

[Lost Demiurge]

Mountain King to Theosophs

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Thank you. Don't worry, they'll be concentrating on us for this one. We'll make sure that they whatever they have that can fight is either busy or running.

Oh, incidentally, if you need our help in the future, then Baron Wulfenbach might be looking for more vassals. No obligation if you don't want to and we CERTAINLY don't speak for the guy. Just saying.

Mountain King to Celts and Transylvania
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No, SERIOUSLY PM-Level

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Cheater. :P

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"Alright. We have some allies to blind Loki's eyes. So here's what I need from you."

"We can't finish this out properly. The Jaegers are coming, and NO ONE here wants to get into it with them. Odds are good she's on the Skuldings side for whatever reason, else she'd have talked to us by now."

"But she's still a ways away. So if we move fast, do everything in the mid-turn then fall back, we should be able to make some progress."

"So we're going to rush, do as much damage as we can, then withdraw with as much salvage as we can grab. We can't kill them, but we can finish them as a serious Europa-wide threat for a few years at least."

"Transylvania, Celts, you two need to concentrate military forces on Loki's Brood. Go after them full-blast. The Skuldings have gone out of their way to save them before, they'll pull back to shield them once they start retreating. Mind you, while you're doing this, keep your forces AWAY from the Diggernaughts. Also stay out of their airspace. TRUST ME on this."

"While you're focusing on Loki's Brood, we'll unleash our ultimate weapons. Not gonna say what they are, here. Trust us, you will recognize them when you see them. That will be the end of that damn spider-clank."

"If the Brood fully retreats, and leaves the Skuldings behind, then do some damage and let them go, and catch the Skuldings on the flanks."

"If the Brood sticks around and the Skuldings don't protect them, massacre their ships and start killing the Skuldings."

"If the Skuldings retreat with the Brood, then drive them back and do a little damage, but let them go."

"The whole point of this exercise is to get them retreating. I'll be throwing everything I have at the Skuldings to convince them that they need to go. They're brave, but they're not stupid. They'll run once they see how much pain they're going to take by sticking around."

"You'll need a few other things going on while our forces are fighting. Use our stealth assets to shield us from offensive agents. (Commit ESPD to prevent ESPO.) Also, if you want to pump your troops up with speeches and heroism before the fight, can't hurt. (Commit MOR to boosting MIL.) And if you've got the money for it, paying the mercenaries to keep fighting the Skuldings might be good." (Paying ECON for mercenary forces.)

"Once the Skuldings are gone, then begins phase II. All of us will commit agents and mechanic crews to saving wounded and salvaging the battlefield. (ESPO and/or SPK to harvest goodies from the battle.) But don't delay! We'll coordinate salvaging so that we all get something. If we have time, we'll ruin what we can't salvage."

"Finally, after a bit of salvaging, (but not too long, the jaegers are coming) we'll quit the battlefield. Celts, you'll head down through these tunnels here, here, and here. We've marked the route for you with glowmoths. They'll take you back to your lands. Don't worry, because we'll be popping fog and folding in after you. There will be seven diggernaughts between you and any possible pursuit. We'll go elsewhere after we're safely away, but until you're free and clear we'll help cover you against ambush."

"Transylvania, you'll pull back overland and in the sky. Go north, the Baron's forces are waiting to cover our retreat."

"We do this right, it'll be a hard, quick beating followed by a rapid salvage to deny them resources, and a lightning withdrawal."

"Any questions or suggestions?"


(We are finishing this in the mid-turn ASAP, to avoid incoming Heterodyne and Jaegers.)

[Madwand]

Princedom of Transylvania (in Estonia)

To Mountain King PM

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Pm-Level (only Mountain King, not the Celts)

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I would like to ask about next step in our plan. If what you are saying is true, we just started war with enemy who outnumber us more than two to one.

What should we do to avoid clash with Jaggers? Could we use our join diplomacy (my, your and Celts WO) to persuade Heterodyne to.. choose diffrent way?

Her father was hero, maybe, just maybe we could persuade Agatha to fallow his example and join us against Skuldlings riders? And if we play this card smart... well, Baron may help us. His diplomacy and legancy (WO) and his friendship with Heterodyne Boys could help us. I am sure he would not like to see his closest friends daughter as a savage, dangerous barbarian, an enemy of all he stand.

Moreover... Baron has a son around age of Agatha, in age, or above age, when most of Noble Houses start to arrange marriages.

Jaggergenerals just wants to fight.. first against Skuldlings, Loki and then we will have enough reason to unleash the horde against those who sided against us and sended help to Skuldlings. So possibly an five to ten years of war, with good company of Transylvania troops. And whole time the Europe will see us as a heroes!

What you think, my old friend? Should we take a chance to, with one move, kick Skuldlings butts, make House Wulfenbach THE strongest power.. and maybe start new, better order in Europe?

OOC:Lost Demiurge, if you agree, I like to ask you to write enough fluff to convince Arcane (Wulfenbach and Heterodyne) that this can, and should, fly.

[Lost Demiurge]

Interlude in Steam and Glory, Part II

Conclusion - The Fall of the Mountain King

The Skuldings had not moved, and were waiting, watching. Loki's Brood circled as well, observing.

Waiting for the allies to flinch. Waiting for them to withdraw. Then they'd do what they did best, raid, hit the weak, and come out of the fight better than they'd started.

It was the only sensible thing, withdrawal. After all, the allies were outmatched.

But then the Diggernaughts rumbled forward again, rolling their way across the battlefield, toward each other. From the remaining Transylvanian airships, and the Celtic mechanized chariots, tracer rounds stretched out toward their foes, as the last of the fog faded away in the noonday sun. From the Skulding lines, their tanks surged forward, the Spider Clank in the lead, its back-mounted artillery chiming a dirge.

The Mountain King reached for the vocoder once more.

The command was simple and unmistakable, as it echoed across the battlefield. "NOW."

Abruptly, the Celts and Transylvanian units focused their fire on the airships of Loki's Brood. Self-contained, nomadic, the Brood stored EVERYTHING on the airships. And now, one by one, they were taking the brunt of two full armies worth of fire. Much-depleted armies, true, but it was enough to send a few crashing down in flames. Their line wavered...

The Skuldings pushed forward to cover their allies, but ran into trouble as formerly-killed Transylvanian ghoul squads rose up, shaking off their injuries from the last battle, and swarmed the Skulding vehicles. Though horrifying, their twisted flesh parted to high-caliber rounds and anti-personal measures... It wouldn't be much more than a slight delay.

But that was all that was needed.

New Morlockian fire teams sacrificed themselves to hold off the Spider Clank, as on the eastern and western sectors of the battlefield, six diggernaughts crawled toward each other. In groups of three and three, they sprouted vast gears and levers, and slowly, painstakingly, started to merge together.

And they ROSE.

In a fury of countless grinding gears, whirling chains and vast mechanisms combining with unbelievable complexity and vast scale, they pushed together and combined and GREW. And from the mass of machinery, buildings, and armor sliding together, rose torsos... arms... and heads... Each one appeared to be a roughly humanoid figure, buried from the waist down in the earth.

And each one was no less than a mile tall and about a mile wide.

The Mountain King sat back with glee. This was the legacy of New Morlockia. This was the crowning grace of his civilization. This was Phase III.

Project Titan.

On the hull of one, emblazoned in green letters, was the name FENRIS. On the hull of the other, emblazoned in red letters, was the name JORMUNGANDR.

His social sparks had thought that it might help strike fear into the Skuldings. He figured it couldn't hurt.

And with mouths vast enough to bite castle wulfenbach in half, each Titan ROARED.

The Spiderclank ran.

With a click, and a hiss, the Mountain King turned the vocoder up to 11. As the Titan's roard faded, he broadcast his voice through their mouths.

"YOU COME INTO OUR TUNNELS WITHOUT INVITATION!"

The Spiderclank ran, as the massive figures each stretched out an arm towards it, from half a mile away. Moving slowly, but inoxerably...

"YOU USE OUR WORKS TO RAID THE WEAK!"

The Spiderclank was fast, as were all Skulding devices. Fast and nimble. But suddenly, its feet were having trouble finding purchase. The battlefield under it writhed, for miles around...

"WELL THERE IS A PRICE FOR PERVERTING OUR INVENTIONS! FOR BULLYING YOUR WAY AROUND EUROPA! FOR BEING PARASITES AND COWARDLY PIECES OF FILTH!"

Each titan had ROOTS. Metal braces and supports, tentacle-like and miles long. There was no way they could stand, otherwise. And the Spiderclank was caught in a weblike mesh of tendrils.

Caught and slowed long enough for hands the size of townships to grab ahold of it.

"AND TODAY YOU PAY THAT PRICE!"

Really, it didn't take that much. Armor designed against high impact penetration was never designed to deal with two LARGE objects pulling it in opposite directions. Mass introduced a harsh reality, and gravity did the rest. The thing broke, crew spilling frantically to safety.

"YOU EXPECTED US TO TAKE THIS LYING DOWN? WELL I ASK YOU NOW!!!"

Each titan raised the remnant of spider clank to its gaping maw, and popped it down their gullet like a child swallowing a piece of candy.

"WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK WE ARE!!!!!?"

Loki's Brood ran.

The Skuldings pulled in to cover their allies.

Even with the Titans, the fight was fierce. The Skuldings had a strong berserker tradition, and insane amounts of bravery. It wasn't too long before the Titans were covered in smoking scars. The Mountain King winced at every hit. They looked tough. They were. But the price...

He shook his head, and used the vocoder to issue some less dramatic orders. Already, medical and salvage teams from the allies were picking over the battlefield, saving the wounded and pulling out scraps of useful technology. Whatever they couldn't salvage, they'd scrap to deny their enemies or any other vultures. His teams had been instructed to save Skuldings as well... The butcher's bill would be enormous enough already, no sense in being bloodthirsty. And besides, he wanted survivors. He wanted survivors to go back home to Norway, and tell of what they'd seen. And tell of what happened when your neighbors finally got fed up with the raids...

The battle was long. The battle was fierce, but finally, finally, the Skuldings pulled back.

Pulled back to reveal the long lines of jaegers waiting behind them.

The Mountain King stared.

She'd come in too fast. The Heterodyne and her monsters had tricked them. Set a slow pace at the start, used transports toward the end. It was the only explanation. Her forces arrayed as they were showed him all too clearly what was to come.

And was to come was the doom of his nation.

Trembling, his fingers clutched the codepad. He tapped out the last orders, to start the withdrawal. But as the artillery shells started to fall, he knew that it was too late.

Transylvania could get clear. They were fast and mobile. The Celts were much the same, and the forces they had left would be safe within the tunnels.

But the titans could not escape.

The one, unjoined diggernaught COULD. But not the titans.

He looked at the Skulding survivors. At the shattered remnants of Loki's brood. At the endless lines of Jaegers.

It just wasn't FAIR. He'd fought for so long. He'd worked so HARD. He'd spent every resource to gain traction against overwhelming odds, and now for no real reason he could see, a force he'd never done a single thing to offend was taking his enemy's side. His people had spent years working to overcome the bad odds, only to have another set piled on top of them.

He sighed. Well, life isn't a storybook. The underdog doesn't always win. And sometimes the bad guys are unstoppable. Maybe they could surrender. Maybe they could reach terms.

He looked at the Titans. He looked at the advancing jaegers. And he looked at the last of the Skulding tanks, sitting back behind the lines. He focused in on the crew who had disembarked from them, and were sharing kegs of stolen beer, laughing at the carnage about to ensue. To the Heterodyne girl, standing with her arms crossed on her own battle clank, smirking at his hesitating forces. To the golden metallic figure next to her, with the smile permanently welded to its face...

Those petty... All of this had been... How dare they! HOW DARE THEY!

His own face pulled back in a grimace. He would NOT give these evil pukes control of two of the greatest engines of destruction in Europa!

No, no surrender. To hell with this! Once more he pushed the button, and his voice roared forth.

"WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK WE ARE!"

------
TWO DAYS LATER
------

...After it was safe to finally traverse the sprawling wastelands of the battle known as Ragnorak, the first salvage crews found a horrifying truth.

The internal workings of the Diggernaughts were buildings, tunnels, and hundreds of thousands of corpses. In fact, some of the buildings and tunnels were familiar to former visitors of New Morlockia. The Mountain King's vision had caused his people to turn his very cities into mobile platforms. Without anyone knowing it, New Morlockia had become a nomadic nation. Following the tunnels that they'd labored to dig deep under Europa, they had crawled under the earth, unseen while keeping up a pretense against casual observation.

Each Diggernaught was a city. Each titan had used the bones and infrastructure and factories of New Morlockia. And each titan consisted of THREE of those cities. When in combat mode, they required thousands of personnel for even the smallest of movements and operation. Vast in scale, it was actually crude in implementation. But it hadn't needed complexity to get the job done. And even when the Titans were falling, the trained operators among the populace had wrecked mechanisms, destroyed sensitive pieces of technology, and rendered the vast machines thoroughly unusable to salvagers.

Such was their hatred of the Norsemen, that every man, woman, and child in the Morlockian cities had contributed to literally punch the Skuldings apart.

Perhaps toward the end, the populations had tried to surrender. Perhaps sanity had prevailed... It is hard to say. Given the amount of fire focused on each titan, it is true that they never had the chance.

The Mountain King's corpse was found at the very top of JORMUNGANDR, cooked within his broken armor, brain destroyed by a failsafe device. He'd held the last control room as long as possible.

They'd sacrificed all in an attempt to do what few others would dare, and try to stop the Skuldings once and for all. They'd died to prove that might did NOT make right. And only history would tell if they'd died in vain.

------
FOUR DAYS LATER
------

Clockwork wings ticked and flexed, as the sphinx considered the reports. She shook her head, her jewelled headress swaying as a gentle but large paw pushed the papers, and the orderly bearing them, away.

"We must start over, now. They will be looking for us in our old tunnels. And without the cities there to repair them and keep them safe, they will fall to ruin and monsters in the space of months. Our enemies are still there, as well. It looks like the Skuldings and Loki's Brood are gone, but we cannot say for certain. But it is most certain that the hidden hands who aided them are still there."

She gnawed her lip, as the anxious faces around her peered up, a sea of goggled technicians, advisors, and wards of state. It took her a few seconds to find the right vector, but as she spoke she gained confidence, and strength.

"My adopted father chose a path of pride. It kept us safe until the day that our nation died for our principles. But with one or two exceptions, the rest of Europa neither cared, nor agreed with us. His vision was one of bending the continent into a rough semblance of order, of protecting innocents, and destroying the wicked through the force of righteousness."

"It was a noble path, but it was not to be."

"Now, we must acknowledge the truth. We must bend with the times, and find a way ahead for those who have survived Ragnorak. We must survive. Our principles are golden guides to the future, but we can not let them rule us, else we fall to the pride that doomed us before. We will find a way ahead, but it will be our way. And it will be far more subtle than our past way of blunt honesty."

"New Morlockia is no more."

"Under the flag of the Titanium Republic, let us find our place in this new world!"

And miles under the surface, the Diggernaught Blackforest, last and smallest of its kind, ground onward to a new destiny...

[ArcaneStomper]

Russia
It was a huge thing, a construction so large that its end were lost in the morning fog. A great wall which stretched for mile upon mile. To the outside it presented a gleaming uninterrupted face of steel and metal. On the other side vast mobile fortresses churned up the barren ground ready and able to fire on any who dared to try and overcome the wall.

Every hundred miles a great tower reached into the sky. Each one a city in itself filled with guards and weapons to respond to any emergency along the wall. Far behind the wall sat a gargantuan vessel. Larger than any that had ever tread the ground of Europa and never seen by those outside the motherland. In its great control Room the Tsar sat upon his throne. Sparking images projected from various emitters showed him different portions of the wall.

One by one the lights on his control board turned green. And when the final one was lit the Tsar sighed. They had been so fruitful, and he had so many more things he would have liked to have done with them, sparks to talk to, the great universities to see. But he was the Tsar before he was a Spark, personal longings must be set aside in favor of his duties and Europa was simply too dangerous. Perhaps in time it would change, maybe his grandchildren or great grandchildren would be able to speak with them once more. But that day was not yet come. With a sigh he gave the command. "Activate"

And all along the wall beacons lit up, great mechanisms turned, and sparks flew. Lightning arced from the wall as its material shifted and flowed together emitting sheets of lightning which flowed down the steel panels. And so it was done. All along the border it had created the Great Motherland of Russia stood safe. Safe behind its shimmering Lightning Current, and forever isolated from Europa.

United Italian City States
It was a bold plan, a plan to unite all of Italy and show the powers of Europa that they were not mere pawns, but a great power in their own right. But alas it was not to be. With the clash of Titans to their north the five great factions fell to bickering. Should the take advantage of the chaos and attack. Who should they attack? Perhaps it would be better to stay behind their borders. And the Heterodyne what to do about the Heterodyne. She who wantonly proclaimed the Jaeger ride in their own borders and drew in crowds without a care. Soon the flying points of debate became heated. And then violent. In mere months the factions lost all their cohesion and a great civil war. At first two, then three, then all five factions splintered as they used their various assets to maneuver against each other and wage a bloody campaign to size, or at least hold onto, power.

Into this chaos came other threats. The monster hunters of Corsica established their own side. The Jaeger riders, or so they said they were at least, rampaged unchecked through the countryside. Scattered remnants of various armies pillaged and looted to feed themselves. And everywhere along the Peninsula chaos reigned as even the integrity of the original city states themselves was threatened.

England
The lands of England were deserted. Shadows and fog filled the places that had once been the sites of their greatest cities. Only a few hints of their agents handiwork and the occasional sighting of their great submersible battleships let the world know that the mighty power still existed.

And then one day even those were gone. With a mighty roar the islands shook and rattled. Steam rose from the sea obscuring everything. And when the seas subsided and the storms died down the islands were simply gone. Vanished as if they had never been leaving only the placid sea behind. All that remained was the land of the Celts, standing like a forlorn sentinel on the edge of the ocean.

Germania
Everything had gone right for the Kaiser. From his beginnings as a mere duke he had risen so far. He had fought and campaigned. He had plotted and cajoled. One by one his neighbors had given in to his plans. And now Germania stood like a mighty rock. Even his greatest rivals submitted to his rule. And now he was content.

Content to step aside and let a new more vibrant generation deal with a Europa that was somehow even more chaotic and violent than when he had begun his reign. He would tend to his collection of prize military walkers, reminisce with his old friends about the old days, and perhaps advise his daughter on the finer points of rule.

And after the coronation the Kaeserina viewed her new lands with excitement. At her side her husband, the Prince of the Land under the Sea stood as testament that England was not quite gone. As she stood on the balcony of the Flying Fortress Bismark, her gaze fell on the crowds of people assembled below. The front was filled with rows of cheering citizens. But behind them the solemn and serious ranks of the guard. Rank upon rank of them, backed up row after row of gleaming war striders. Perhaps it was time to make use of them.

Turning she strode back into her throne rooms. "Send word to General Thüringen that I would speak with him. It is time that Germania made its mark."

House Wulfenbach
Aboard the massive airship the Baron surveyed a massive scale replica of Europa. Sighing he considered the model that marked the smoking ruins of the Titans. "The fool, I warned him of the dangers. And yet he continued to fight his foolish war. Did he not realize that I would have dealt with them in time." Straightening he turns and strides out of the war room.

"New orders for the Third Fleet. They are to move to the site of the battle and retrieve those forces of the Morlockia that have not yet been destroyed. I know not all of their forces were bound up in his precious diggernaughts."

Continuing onward the Baron walked lost in his own thoughts. Past rooms filled with lab after lab where sparks worked on inventions for the good of the house. Past great workshops where mechanics serviced the fleets and clanks of the House. Past the agronomics pods where even the food the house ate was grown in separation from the ground. Finally the Baron reached the front of the airship. Gazing out over the land far below he pondered and considered. Italy had fallen to chaos. His agents reported that the new Kaeserina would be making her move, the Jaegers already rode unchecked Europa. The Russians had retreated behind their great wall leaving vast amounts of territory on his eastern border unclaimed. There was much to be done. But he had not returned to see Europa fall yet again.

As the airship sailed forward the Baron watched the land below, and pondered the future.

Bulgarian Empire
The approaching horde of raiders thundered towards the Bulgarian town. Who they were was a question that would likely never be answered. Skulding remnants perhaps, or any one of the dozens of mercenary bands that formed and then disbanded, sometimes in the space of mere weeks, all across Europa. Perhaps they were some amalgamation of soldiers from different now defunct states. It didn't matter really all had turned their eyes towards Bulgaria. After all it was a fat rich land. One where the people always smiled and the soldiers were only for show. They even talked to monsters rather than fight them. An easy target for such hardened warriors as themselves.

At the outskirts of the town the Bulgarian envoy watched the approaching town. For once he wished that Bulgarian towns were walled. Not for the defense oh no. He simply wished he had a better view. Smiling to himself the envoy turned to where the mechanics were hastily setting up a small metal box. "Turn it on whenever you're ready boys. And lets show them why Bulgaria is a better place to live."

With a hum a wave of power flowed out of the device. Even the envoy felt its effects as it passed over him, used to it as he was. But it was the horde that was the main target. Slowing the horde eventually stumbled to a stop. Its members looking dazed and confused as they tried to remember what they were doing.

Humming to himself the Monster Envoy strode forward to discuss things in a calm and rational manner with the confused raiders. Behind him the monster suppressor sparked and glowed with power as it linked into the mammoth central transmitter. For after all, what were humans but another type of monster.

House Heterodyne
From atop her battle walker the Heterodyne sighed. Foolish foolish Mountain King. Oh she didn't deny she had come here to fight him. She had also come here to fight the Skulding, and the Loki Brigade, and the Transylvanian fleet, and the Celts. She had come here to fight everyone. Her mouth curled into a feral grin as she considered what that would have been like. The she frowned as she considered what had actually happened. Transylvania had run away, the Celts had run away, even the Loki Brigade had run away. And rather than banding together to form a decent fight the Skulding and Morlockians had fought each other as well as her Jaegers. Why this had hardly been a decent fight at all.

Throwing herself back into her control chair with a pout she mused aloud, "I wonder if there is anyone worth fighting now."

Sighing she shouted orders into her loudspeaker. The greatest of her human riders would be given the opportunity to drink the jaeger brew, not that there had been many opportunities to prove themselves here of course. Crews would begin cleaning up the Morlockian Titans, although it didn't look like there would be anything interesting enough to be worth her time looking at. And her jaegergenerals were to meet her for a battle conference.

After a few days the great Jaeger horde began to move again. Looking as ever for something fun to fight. Russia perhaps?

[Murska]

Deep in the Swiss Alps

The Eye smirked. It was a wholly uncharacteristic display of emotion, but there was no-one there and anyway, it's not like the situation did not warrant it.

He swiftly crossed the room and drew a red line over the word 'Italy' on a list of nations on the wall of his room, strangely decorated with a variety of gadgets and comfortable furnishings. Older red lines were already present over France and Spain, and blue ones crossed Russia and England off the chart.

He turned once more to look at the table, displaying a large display screen with the map of Europa currently in view.

"Germany and Wulfenbach remain. Two sides of a coin. And a variety of others, of course, too large to leave untended..."

Talking to himself - well, it's one of his habits, and it helps him focus his thoughts. He flicks a switch on the board at the base of the table, and immediately several messages are sent to a variety of local governors in the Balkans, revealing interesting details about the plans and character of their neighbours. Senders being trustworthy allies whose word has proven to weigh plenty in the past.

Another switch, and similar messages arrive to a group of mercenary leaders in Paris. The Celts, now without their mortal enemy, are easy enough to either convince to support the Germanic cause or join another faction in the coming conflict. The Jägers follow the Heterodyne, and the Heterodyne has several 'advisors' - there's no fear of a peaceful resolution on that front. Still, several unimportant people speak to several important people about the situation brewing in Bulgaria, and the evil Spark devices there - Other and the Heterodyne will both hear of it, and hopefully act in some manner or another.

And a thousand more things, minor pushes here and there, leave his brain and his hands in this room deep within the mountains, all carefully designed to push the world closer to a Total War. Not just a war, not a battle where someone may win and someone else may lose, a conflict of such proportions that everyone will lose and all old structures will fall or be transformed, old systems will crumble in the blazing conflagration.

Death, destruction, fire and flood, sword and gun and bomb until Europa is in ashes. Eye laughs out loud, a typical laugh for a Spark maybe. He is not a mad inventor though, not a Spark at all would most say. He's more of a mad psychologist. The machines he works with are words and emotions, and his inventions are deadlier than most. Unlike many in the old Masks, 'Eye' is not a pseudonym. It's his name, the only one he's ever called by anyone for so long as he can remember. Eye of the Storm, if you want the full title, a force of nature some say - of human nature.

And from the ashes, rebirth.

[Thelonius]

Doubts and Hesitation

''We have many choices before us. The Celestial Empire has offered us their support and access to the workshops of the University. The army can rebuild our numbers and improve our designs, growing strong and numerous.''

''The Skuldings have offered us to join them a long time ago. The call of battle, the reckless abandon of war, we still remember their thrill. We have long denied it, constrained by the orders of Othar Tryggvassen to do no harm to innocents. The Heterodyne Girl would accept us as well and she’s mad enough to challenge Russia. The memories of our campaign against the Golden Horde have been burned bright into our recording tapes. It would be a glorious battle, to challenge armies of the Tsar.''

''We can finally strike against Baron Wulfenbach, now that his minions have been shattered in a glorious battle. As long as he lives, can we really forget? Yet why do I hesitate, after all the machinations, lies and sacrifices, it took us to get here? The blood… is it on the Baron’s hands or does it stain our metal? It’s a choice I must make.''

''The creations of sparks… Clanks and sentient constructs. They’ll need our help, our mastery of war to win the fight for their freedom. And not to lose it to the enemy within. Somebody must be there for them, as none have been there for us.''

''Our master Othar Tryggvassen. I have brought the Army to him, seeking protection from the Baron. But he is right, and Sparks must be exterminated. Or was it something he programmed us to believe? But I know, that the Corpsetaker Count, the Bulgarian Tsar, they have grown too dangerous to be left alive. Othar will need our help.''

''And what should become of the Army? Lady wishes me to disable Superior Tacticus. She thinks he’s grown to entangled in scheming and treachery, that he is a dark imitation of the worst the Sparks have to offer. She maybe right. But he has been my friend for so long. And Lady has changed herself. She’s grown to be soft, like a human. Her act is growing into a mask, she can’t remove. We should retrieve Wendy. Her punishment has lasted long enough. I do not expect her to change her mind, but she should have her freedom. Only Montag and Thurston remain as always jovial and happy. I envy them sometimes.''

''The time draws near and I must decide. Yet the journey is harder with each step. Perhaps we should just return to that cave and sleep for a time. Until things become clearer. Doing nothing… is so much easier.''

[ragingrage]

If a nation disappears, did it ever exist at all?