Silver Revolution

[Kaiser Martens]

OOC: Semi-closed RP. People can request to RP as different factions or characters within. The RP is in part pre-planned.

The main countries are:

Silver Revolutionary Folkish Army, West Germany, German Reich, European Union, Soviet Union, Marchia, The Papal States, France, and the rest of what you can find on the map. Additionally people can request to RP different characters of different hierarchy and allegiances in each country, or even Partisans with a completely different idea. Anyone who's interested, PM me. The technology is late WW1-early WW2, although this takes place probably one hundred years in the future actually.

Silver Revolution: The Birth Of The Nordlanders

An introduction to the Geopolitical and Social structures before the Silver Revolution

Historical circumstances which led to the Silver Revolution are many, and very varied. Approximately two hundred years ago, many places accross the world had suffered from a very devastating World War, which had broken the majority of the Ancient Countries up into several factions, a struggle that lasted for many generations and pushed humanity to its very limit on most corners of the worlds, save for a few isolated countries. As time passed, microstates and confederations of micronations began to arise. In time, a kind of romanticist movement happened in Europe which lead to the re-creation of many of the ancient nations, as seen in the map:

Notorious exceptions were the return of the Soviet Union, which had been already considered ancient history before the war and collapse of other nations. The Soviet Union would be considered to be by far the most successful of these states for a long time. Another exception was the division between the Germanies. The German Reich (Deutsches Reich), which was more Prussianlike and Militaristic in nature occupied most of the ancient Prussian territory as well as parts of Eastern Germany, and had an exclave consisting of formerly Austrian territories around Wien. The rest of Austria and Germany, Bundesrepublik Deutschland remained in a way resembling the old West Germany. Another unusual thing is Marchia, territory given by the German Reich to be populated by the Marchars.

Almost all of the new nations would be doomed to failure and collapse over time, as the unions were artificial. This was caused due to infighting over economic factors and policies, and due to the "tribalization" of extremely multicultural societies in the case of Western Europe, leading people to group up by Ethnicities, Culture and Social Classes to fight each other in chaos, as well as war proper. Eventually, this continent-wide chaos would allow different nations to rise, and most importantly would lead to the creation of Nordlandic culture, language, ethnicity and state. In these pages we shall re-tell the story of our Ancestors which against all odds, managed to defeat all enemies and all extremists to eventually create what is our Homeland today.

(Extract from the !@#$%* Introduction)

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A very intoxicated Martens made his way through the streets of Wien with two of his Comrades, taking with him a large plastic jar still half full with local wine, all of them in their black Panzerkorps rookie military uniforms. It was saturday night, almost midnight, and it was pretty quiet outside, almost not a soul in the street. Weather was being kind on that summer. They all spoke rather loudly and laughed, walking through the streets, speaking of changing the world with the flamboyancy and sophistication that one would expect from drunken lips.

They felt tired. They reached the end of the city...the forests...drawn by the trees and their protection, the young adults wander in and find a quiet spot to sit down and finish their wine...

On that night, Martens would dream visions of Valkyries, as well as with a Raven. These dreams were confusing, not consistent, and brought little rest. At a point, he had felt that he had come to some profound realization, that he had been enlightened, but typically of these things, when being woken up he would not remember what he had supposedly discovered...

Martens opens his eyes to see smoke coming from different areas of the massive Wien ahead, and planes - bomber planes - dropping their deadly payload over and over again onto the people below. He groans lightly from the pain of the hangover and blinks twice, rubbing his eyes... "Oh $%&@! Scheisse! Wake up, people!"

His Comrades woke up slowly, all of them suffering from the same hangover. "Ach!" Martens helped - or forced - one of them up by himself, growling lightly at the painful complaint of his aching muscles as he did so. They started to run - rather slowly - towards the Panzerschule not far to which they had been assisting. They started to hear the sound of AA guns and artillery.

It took them some effort to arrive to the Panzerschule, as they were in danger of being hit by the rain of bombs. But dodging the chaos, they made it. There were many wounded, and there were fire.

Their superior officer seemed to be extremely busy over the phone coordinating different batallions and groups, and quickly looked them up and down and shouted, "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU FREAKS ARE DOING HERE SO LATE! YOU WILL BE SENT TO THE DUNGEON FOR A WEEK! AND YOU KADET RIEDELMANN WHERE IS YOUR CAP" Indeed, one of Martens' comrades had left his custom cap back at the forest. They were made a total mess, their uniforms dirty, their hair screwed up. A large piece of artillery landed close by, shaking up the building.

Martens asked, "Sir, what is going on?"

- "WHAT DO YOU THINK IS GOING ON? We're at war, Martens! It's the Communists! They got us by surprise! They are threatening to surround Wien. Go get in your damn Tank, we're outnumbered! You better hope you die out there in battle or otherwise I'll kill you myself for disgracing your uniforms and our Fatherland!"

"Jawohl!" They salute and get on their way among the chaos, still aching. They climb and enter their small Panzer IB as it was still being made ready by auxiliary crews and sit down in the crammed, hot space within. Riedelmann the Driver sighs. "Goddamn for Odin's damn Ravens them Reds picked the best time to come till our damn land". Steiner, the Navigator, comms man and loader chuckled and said, "Yer right. We got em all for us! A free ticket to Valhalla I tell ya! Goddamnit how my heart does hurt". Martens - commander and gunner - leans back and rubs his head. "Whatever. Lets go." The signal was given by the people outside that fuel was ready, and so Riedelmann powers up the engine. Steiner prepares the maps and gulps, as the amount of enemies seems to be rather high. "Fine then take us to the northwest. We're supposed to stop a bunch of Communist scout tanks and BT tanks acting as the scouts supposedly. Lets go."

Martens finishes loading up a shell just in case and adjusts the Commander's copula, Riedelmann shifts gears and starts to advance through the streets followed by two other tanks - Another PzIB and a stronger 35t. Exitting Wien proper and entering the forest and hilly zone they advance and find the first lone BT-5 tank.

Martens calls, "Halt! Enemy sighted" and dives into the turret, aiming...and firing onto the enemy from a distance, hitting it on the side, on the track, while it moves, constituting a mobility kill. "M-kill" But surprisingly, instead of fleeing, the tank turns its turret towards them. It fires, and blows off the tiny turret of their companion PzIB. The Pz35t finishes it with a clean shot aimed just under the cannon, destroying it. Martens reloads and sighs.

"That was close. Pretty good for a bunch of alcoholics."

They move on more carefully, in the search of more Red Army Tanks...

[KaiserMelech Mikhail]

OOC: Can I RP as a French tank crew? 2nd question, if yes, can I use technology that Pre-WWII France was thinking about developing, but never did?

[Kaiser Martens]

OOC: Yes. I'll PM you once that France gets involved in the war.

[KaiserMelech Mikhail]

OOC: Yes. I'll PM you once that France gets involved in the war.

Neato, Thanks.

[Sumeragi]

OOC: Can I have this be canon?

[Comrade]

A Young Antonev Frolov is jolted out of his bed by an artillery shell landing nearby. Smacking his head on a desk, he scrambles for his Rifle, an old Kar98k. Being a Russian in a German area means he cannot join the military. Instead, he must join a puny militia, being a "Pinko".

Far from it.

Antonev Frolov is a man who wants his home to be powerful. He was kicked out of the motherland for being too radical, his ideas of a European Empire of the world shunned by the Communist Regime. He now fights for the Fatherland.

"Sgt. Frolov! We have tanks inbound! I got the other sqauds setting up AT batteries. I need you and your men to go and support the Armored Counter attack!" says the german LT.

"Where should we go sir?" Frolov responds, checking his equipment.

"Outside Wien, Slav. Dont turn your back pinko, or ill kill you myself. Go."

[Shadowsage]

OOC: Quick question; how is Martens alive if this is 200 years ago?

[Comrade]

OOC: Magic. The Will of Valhalla perhaps?

[Sumeragi]

OOC: The ubersoldier or however you spell it

[Sargun II]

OOC: it's non-canon, silly

[Kaiser Martens]

OOC: No idea. But since National Leaders (And one's accountname if it's also the name of a characters) don't die unless we want to OOC, it just happens. **Shrug**

[Uberstein]

OOC: I've always questioned the age thing. 200 years and Martens appears young? It's either an impersonator now or someone is stretching the rules about leaders.

Uberstein has been aging, he's 70 now, chances are he will be 80 at the end of the summer. I don't give him consistent birthdays but at least he ages.

[Comrade]

(OOC: Frolovs age is irelevant, considering he will be dead soon. This will explain the start of his friendship with Martens hopefully.)

[Kaiser Martens]

OOC: Hey Frolov the guys aren't *THAT* mean to them Slavs, damn. lol.

IC:

For thirty minutes, Martens and his crew would patrol the fields and zones, taking out light armored vehicles such as T-70s. Both his tank and the enemy tanks seem ill equipped for antitank roles however, but at least proved to be very reliable mechanically.

"Halt. Enemy." - Martens aims, and he fires. Sometimes it'd take several rounds to manage to pierce the armor, and he'd be forced to go either for their tracks or for the gun proper, as the high velocity twenty milimeter cannon was ment as antimateriel, not anti armor. But the enemy was in similar conditions. After these initial skirmishes, a column of better equipped BT-7s in gray rushed for Martens' position. After seeing several shots simply bouncing off harmlessly and being outnumbered, together with the 35t they began to retreat, towards Frolov's position guarding a tank factory, where antitank batteries were engaged.

The BT-7s must have noticed how much weaker Martens' tank had to be, and gunned for him. As they drove on at a high speed, they heard the shells hitting onto the light armor, and feared for their lives. Just when they would get within range of the antitank batteries, the enemies would score a mobility kill onto a track and start a fire.

"STEIG RAUS!" (Jump out) the Panzer Commander orders, making a run for the protection of the nearby guns while the BTs threaten to finish him and his crewmen off.

[Comrade]

"Sarge! Friendlies running for cover!"

"MAD MINUTE! SUPRESSIVE FIRE!" Yells Frolov, firing another round from his AT Gun. The Russian soldiers, fighting for Germany, let loose a hellstorm of AT fire and Rifle Fire as they gave help to Martens and his allies.

Martens hops over the sandbag and into Frolov. Frolov looks and laughs, chucking a rifle at the man.

"Alright Fritz, stop running and start shooting!"

[Subtleknifewielder]

OOC: Quick question; how is Martens alive if this is 200 years ago?

OOC: I believe he's actually answered that. Som leaders are just immortal...unless a bullet is put in them, of course...

rp, and I'd join in, but I'm already too busy trying to catch up everywhere else.

[Kaiser Martens]

Martens' crewmen would do the same, fetching Kar 98s to provide Frolov with backup as he dealt with the tanks, which would be followed by a horde of disorganized conscript infantry, in the typical soviet style.

"I'm a Panzer commander, not a foot soldier!" He complaints as he adjusts his Stahlhelm, takes aim and begins to down some enemies with remarkable accuracy for a newbie, yet still far from expertise. The battle continues in this manner for some fifteen minutes, until the infantry retreated once that it had been deprived from their armored elements.

A commanding officer moved close as everyone sighed in relief. "HQ tells us that the enemy is sending a major pincer to hit our position! Retreat has been ordered, we need to fall back to the city proper! Leave the heavy equipment and board the trucks, there's no time to lose!"

Martens looked over to the enemy horizon and back to the commander, "If there's still some Panzer left in that factory we'll give you cover." He commented, seeing one brand new Hetzer Assault Gun rolling off the factory after its test. The rest of the factory was being sabotaged to prevent usage by the enemy.

"Fine. If you do well we'll salvage some of the ATGs. Go."

Martens salutes and rushes over to the new vehicle with his hetzer, while the commander hurriedly has his infantry construct a hull-down position ditch. Riedelmann nods as he gets familiarized with the new vehicle, being even more crammed than in the old PzI, and Steiner comments, "The armor in the front is 120milimeters, a whole 100 more milimeters than before. We have a mid velocity 37mm gun. Just don't let enemies sneak to our back, Riedel!" - "Yeh, whatever. Lets $%&@ some !@#$ up."

The engine starts, and while the vehicle is not as fast as the old counterpart, he drives it into the ditch carefully so that only the cannon pops out, and pre-made chamo is tossed onto it. The rest of the antitank weapons were being loaded onto trucks, excepting for Frolov's, since one of its wheels were damaged, it seemed as if it was up to them to slow down the incoming onslaught enough to allow an orderly retreat.

[Comrade]

"Dang it Fritz! Now we have to take on the Commie scum by ourselves! Its not fair! They need more tanks!" Frolov says with a hearty laugh as he and his men lift and turn their ATG into position. Frolov starts to fire the gun as the communist bring up their tanks...well one less now. Frolovs excellent fire nails an enemy in the turrent, taking the spare shells with it.

Frolov hops on Martens tank. "Hey Fritz! I got one of my guys on your back with a sniper rifle to pick off sneaky pinkos. If he sees armor....well, your dead! HA!"

[Kaiser Martens]

Fritz? "The name is Martens" He calls out before closing the turret as the bullets and shells start to fly, one shell from a BT-7 hitting the front of the Hetzer leaving no damage, due to the sloped armor. From its hull down position, as a group of SU light antitank vehicles and BT-5s try to hit him, he fires back, taking them out one by one. Infantery eventually joins in, hoping to overrun the hetzer, since from that position, its machinegun could not be used, stopping them would be Frolov's task.

Something curious that would happen is that the "dead", destroyed tanks would eventually crowd the valleylike area between hills where they were located, and awkwardly tanks would need to try to go through the sides. It was simply put, an Armored Traffic Jam. Once that their job is done, approximately fifteen minutes later Martens calls out. "Ok Ivan hop onto the tank we're gettin' outta here!" - Riedelmann drives the Hetzer out of the ditch, and then when Frolov and the other few guys who stood behind are onto it, retreat is initiated as a brief air attack gives them cover, going back to Wien unscratched. Martens' crew were surprised favorably at this vehicle, which seemed to be undefeatable at least on the front. He'd make it a point to prefer Assault Guns rather than Tanks.

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As they approached Wien, they stopped suddenly, seeing the city under siege from the Red Army.

"...There's no going back now. What do we do?" Asks Steiner.

Martens springs up from the vehicle and leans to the side, glancing at Frolov and shaking his head as they all realize the situation. "Going there is suicide. Hopefully the city will survive long enough so we can lift the siege. We have to go north. Riedelmann, what's the fuel?"

"Not enough, a full tank's only good to go halfways back into our northern ranges. We can try our luck and "hunt" some oil from some enemies. Or we can steal an enemy vehicle once we're halways there. Either way we need to run, they'll catch up to us otherwise." Martens looks up, at least the trees give them some cover. He looks to Frolov, "Can you guys drive a tank? Maybe you can capture an enemy tank together with us. We need to fight back to our lines in the north...assuming that we have not been overran in the north as well..."

Wien was under siege, and would remain like that for a very long time.

Edited June 10, 2009 by Kaiser Martens

[Comrade]

"Drive a tank? Dang it Fritz im a gunner, not a driver! IVAN! Can you drive?" yells frolov to his fellow Sgt.

"Im a little drunk...is that ok frolov!?"

"Yes thats fine! Ok Martens we can drive one. Ill keep mounted and provide support. Id like to get my hands on some AT Rockets thou...we also need some ammo for the rifles." he says, drinking from his canteen. He offers it to martens.

"Its vodka fritz. Can you handle it?"

[Margrave]

*In The Land of Marchian*

"You will go."

These were the words of the Keeper. They could not be opposed, not here, in the Council of the Wyrd, standing in the circle of Nine. No man sworn to the Marchar could oppose the Keeper when he invoked The Oath, the strange and unexplainable system of promises and debts that affiliated the Marchar to one another. In normal times, the Keeper was a judge, a mediator, a councilor and adviser to the lords and knights under his purview, a spiritual leader in times of heart-troubles. But when the Keeper, the one who Was the Oath, invoked his sacred authority, he held final say over all things. It was thus that the young man before him knelt, a wolf-furred cloak draped over his shoulders, a silver circlet with a howling wolf it's only design, marking him as a Warder, one of the ancient kindred who were the marked warriors and leaders of the Marchar. A mask (As was the custom) had been fitted over his face, the image it displayed being a graven image of a face at peace...something that clashed horribly with the wicked sword at his side and the pistol stuck into his belt.

"The time's demand an action. God knows we will lose much, even with this action...but there is a chance that we will not. You and those gathered here will judge me and condemn me after the Geas I lay upon you has run its course and the Circle is fulfilled; until then, you shall follow my orders and my intent as best you understand them. You, Warder of the People, The Traveler's Wall and the Shield Of the Lost, you will take a motley group of your peers into the mountains, only returning when you see the smoke of our burning villages in the Farmer's Quarter to the east of here. The Soviets will shortly make quick work of our tenant-farmers, and their secret hold over us will force my hand to commit a terrible treason. you will be your father's compliment and the hero of the people; by the blood you shed and the Oath you inherit, you will remove the unworthy and take my burden of authority. You will find the great man amongst the Germans, wherever he is; both the priest of God and the Druid say you shall meet your battle-brother there. You will defend your honor and become a loyal servant of this country we pretend we are not apart of, and you will in all things commit yourself and the powers of your body to sustaining the existence of our people. Those of the Keeper's Line and his Council are not like other men; they are charged with duties higher than personal honor and glory, personal morality and dignity. They make themselves beasts and angels, killers and princes, manipulators and murderers, all for the purpose of allowing the Marchar to continue existing in relative peace and harmony. You will embody all that is right in us, even as I will be remembered as all that was wrong. And when you kill me, and become me, you will be the Keeper Who Keeps The Promise Of The People."

The masked, horned man shook his head, and waved away the Warder's bow. "My son, remember that you are what you are; a wolf, a raven, a war-brother, a shield bearer and the sparer of innocents. Remember that the Keeper is married to the land, and that he gives back to it as it gives to him. Remember that the Keeper feeds the people, but even more so do the People feed the Keeper. Be one with the land, and one with the people, my son. Now go, and may your enemies lose hope at the sight of your countenance!"

With that, a son bid silent fair well to his father; with that, a loving father sacrificed himself for his son, and the people of the land.

[Kaiser Martens]

Martens raises an eyebrow skeptically and then laughs. "A tank is the same as a gun, just bigger...and with wheels...you people know what a wheel is, right?" This time, the rest of his crew join him in the laughing. Although Martens sincerely didn't want any more alcohol as still his body aches from the hangover, he has a point to prove and fetches the vodka. "Vodka is what you call water in Poland. Gimme that." He grins and drinks some of it down, even though it burnt he was just masochist enough to enjoy it, and he hands it back. It actually woke him up a bit. "We could have well used it for extra fuel though, hah. Here, we do have some ammo." Martens and the other two give Frolov and Ivan a total of probably fourty rifle rounds, no more, but it'd have to do.

They go back into the tank and start it, driving away northwards. "Lets get goin'"

For a few hours, the driving would be quiet and they would not be spotted. They'd cross into an unguarded part of West Germany unknowingly and unseen, and would back in the Soviet Territory end up assaulting a rear supply dump, including the destruction of some oil tanks before running away, creating complete anarchy behind enemy lines. But the Hetzer's fuel would run out, and they'd sabotage it and then go on foot, eventually finding a BT-5 and SU-76 which were stopped as the BT-5 was having a track replaced.

From the woods, Martens nods to the others and whispers, "Here's our chance, as soon as they finish fixing their crap...we kill em..." Martens and the tankmen ready their pistols, Frolov and Ivan have the rifles. "We'll split up to the side and run up to them when we get the chance, you guys just snipe the !@#$ outta 'em!" They move several meters away and hide in some bushes, waiting for the right second...

--------------------------

Over to the northeast, just in the outskirts of the Marchar Land, a large number of Soviet T-35s and T-38s and overwhelming amounts of conscript troops had amassed... Operation Kaliningrad would begin, an attempt to take out Marchia and then drive on to conquer the lost territory of Kaliningrad, which was now as it had been throughout most of its history, East Prussia.

"General...begin."

[Comrade]

The communist had no idea why several of their comrades heads exploded, but they didnt get to think on it as their own heads left them. Frolov's crew layed down plenty of fire onto the enemy, even as they began to fight back.

"This is like shooting an Elephant with a howitzer!"

[Kaiser Martens]

Once that this was done, Martens and the others quickly rushed the tanks and used their handguns to dispatch a few fools who had been inside. They toss the corpses outside and Frolov with his guys catch up quickly. In the new, Communist tanks, they'd be able to get back to the Northern section of the Reich, where they'd find safety enough to regroup and attack again. But when they were about to cross the border, they'd receive a high velocity 37mm shell onto their side, destroying one of the tracks. In a hurry Martens shouted out,

"STOP, WE'RE FROM THE REICHSWEHR!" and soon they'd be surrounded by soldiers aiming towards them. That was a close call, surviving the enemy to almost get killed by friends, but once that the credentials had been examined, things would be good. The tanks would be kept and refurbished with German markings, and Martens and Frolov too would go to report to the West Prussian Command, as they had information on what has happened.

The General finishes writing a few notes skeptically as the two men had reported, and speaks,

"So you're telling me that you two alone fended off some twenty tanks and several infantry batallions on your own, and then left the surrounded, under-siege Wien and fought your way up north capturing those two tanks?"

-"Jawohl, also we may wish to consider dropping aerial supplies to Wien, as we allowed enough people to retreat back into its fortifications. The reds will try to starve them. We should theoretically be able to send an attack and lift the siege."

"You're getting a bit over-ambitious, Panzer Cadet..." He reads his name tag "Martens...we have been attacked over in the east as well, we do not have enough resources to help Wien. We can send some supplies, but they'll have to resist. Marchia is already overwhelmed. You two will rest today, then you'll be redeployed. I am raising your ranks, you both will be no longer simply cadets. Panzer Soldat Martens, and Soldat Frolov, you and your crew will receive Iron Cross, second class."

Another officer moved over to place the Iron Crosses on the uniform.

"The leader will be pleased. We hope to hear more from you two. Go get a bath and sleep. Heil Hauptmann. Anything to add, Herr Frolov? You have been quiet."

After that, the soldiers would go to a nearby barracks and get some rest, perhaps some good dinner tonight before heading back to war, to reinforce the Marchars, and a PzIII would be given as replacement for the lost Hetzer. Slightly better, although Martens would miss the lower profile and the frontal armor emphasis. Frolov would be actually given body armor, as he was no longer a low-class conscript grunt, but an actual soldier proper.

[Comrade]

"I have nothing to add sir." Frolov says, using the best death glare he can muster.

----

"Jebus Martens, this armor is heavy. Id rather go bare than lug this stuff around." Frolov complains, throwing the armor to the floor. He takes a seat across from martens.

"I love how higher ups have a tendency to ignore lower ranks....until they need to be saved anyway. The way of the world it seems. In Russia, you probably would have been shot. And whats with being 'Soldats' anyway? We just demolished an enemy position using rifles and pistols and all we get is a handshake and a stupid medal? Bah!"