Alea Iaci Est - A Story of the Myrorian Civil War

[Myroria]

OOC: This does NOT, I repeat, does NOT take place in the current time. Anyone can participate, but I know who I want to win in the end so don't expect to change the final outcome, otherwise all of my history would be changed.

April 19, 1964. A chateau outside Novrith.

The Empeurer, Claudius Trovtrith XXV sat in his study, his pregnant wife on the sofa bordering the right wall. He had a pipe in his mouth, and was admiring the artwork on the study wall when a knock came at the door.

"Come in."

His chief general entered.

"What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

"Consider this a coup, tyrant." The general liften a pistol and shot the young king in the chest.

"Alea iaci est." he said before falling onto the desk. Alea iaci est - "the die has been cast". And it was true. The die had been cast - for four years of civil war, and the darkest time in Myrorian history. And at the end of it all, the general would become a king himself. He would promise democracy and justice, but he would bring the opposite: dictatorship and favoritism.

His wife, screaming, was dragged from the room, where she would be executed by lethal injection in her bedroom.


April 20, 1964. A chateau outside Novrith, the parlour.

TV cameras rolled as the general began a speech.

"At around noon yesterday, the King and Queen of Myroria were shot in their study. With no heir produced between them, I hereby declare myself King of Myroria.

Yet, though I may bear the title of "king", I will be anything but. You, the citizens, will be the people of a great democracy. As of today, April twentieth, nineteen sixty-four, the Kingdom of Myroria has been reformed as the Parliamentary Republic of Myroria. I will be Chief of Parliament - first among equals, of course. Good day to you all, and good luck."


Later that day, Pelagis Manoir (hastily reformed as the Myrorian Parliament Building).

The "vote" was unanimous. The man who had just declared himself "first among equals" hours earlier was now first. Period. The so-called "parliament" had just given the chief general, a man named Julius Belsen, complete power over the nation.

Of course, the people weren't to know that. It was still a democracy, the Parliament would say. They even passed fake, unbinding "laws" that the Chief of Parliament was to follow in the later weeks. But the people weren't idiots. This wasn't democracy. Well, to them it was, but to an outsider looking in, they would see Myrorians considering a blatant dictatorship democracy. And they didn't like it. They wanted their king back. Belsen would hold complete power for only 5 weeks before the Myrorian Civil War began. And it would be bloody. And it would be dark.

[Myroria]

May 27, 1964. Outside Parliament.


^{Julius Belsen, left, sitting with two aides.}

"A Royalist rally outside the Parliament building began early this morning," said the radio in the Chief of Parliament's sitting room.

"Many are demanding free speech back. In a controversial act last week, Parliament ruled that in specific cases, the right of free speech can be restricted. The Chief declared three days ago that this was one of those cases."

Belsen shut off the radio and ran his hands through his hair. He was a general, not a politician. But there was no going back now. He'd be shot for treason. Belsen thought for several minutes and turned to his aide.

"The guards here have handguns, yes?"

The advisor gulped.

"Yes, sir."

"I want them to shoot them into the crowd. Aim for people's legs."

"Sir, there's tear gas in the police station, shouldn't we just disperse the mob that way?"

"No! I will - I must rule through fear, or it will be anarchy!"

"This might hurry along revolution!"

"A population cannot revolt against an entity that disables them!"

"Sir, I cannot allow this to go!"

The dictator picked up a lamp off the desk and slammed his advisor across the head with it. He fell, out cold. Belsen calmly placed the lamp back in it's place and walked to the guards' headquarters.


Later that day

The guards gathered on the Parliament steps. All had handguns. The guard captain stood behind the line of guards.

"Feuer!"

There were loud bangs and screams from the crowd. Many were hit, and others were killed in a stampede. Some people in the crowd had concealed weapons, and there were return shots from men - most hunters - in the crowd. Some guards fell. The Myrorian Civil War had begun.

[Prydania]

"We interrupt your regularly scheduled program for an address from Alexander VIII, By the Grace of our Lord Emperor of Inglo-Scotia and her Realms and Territories, Duke of Rolland, Defender of the Faith"

"Inglo-Scotia, the world, and most importantly, the people of Myroria.
A terrible tragedy has occurred.
Julius Belsen has declared himself king, Chief among equals of the Kingdom of Myroria. This tyrant, this regicide, has committed acts of horror against his own people, in a desperate attempt to silence the truth. The truth that the people of out Myrorian brothers want their Emperor, they want their sovereign.
This dictatorship masquerading as democracy is an abomination. It must, it will be destroyed.
I have faith, I have faith that the Lord will give the Myrorians strength to overcome this fascist facade and restore their Emperor, the rightful heir of Claudius Trovtrith XXV, to the thrown. I am as sure of this as I am sure the sun will rise tomorrow.
This Empire will not stand idly by as the rights of Emperors are usurped by cowardly men in foreign lands. Inglo-Scotia has enacted an embargo on the Parliamentary Republic of Myroria.
Additionally all Myrorian refugees fleeing the tyrant Julius Belsen will find sanctuary in Inglo-Scotia.
May the Lord save us and give us all strength to overcome this tragedy that has befallen all of us."

[Myroria]

A plantation outside the village of Blithewold

The plantation was busy today. Indentured servants rushed in and out of rooms, bringing Royalist leaders silver pitchers of water and alcohol. Presently the most senior Royalist leaders were standing above a map spread across a table in the Map Room. It showed Western Myroria, and was highlighted with major populations of each faction's loyalties. Most towns and villages surrounding the plantation were highlighted red for Royalist, with the closest major city being Roostown about 20 kilometers north-north east. Marcellin Léonide - at least the alias covering his real name - entered the room, pipe in his mouth and brocade smoking jacket unbuttoned, as usual.

"I was just talking to Tatienne. What's the situation?" he started, holding his pipe in one hand.

"Well, I've recieved news a rally turned deadly at Pelagis. Belsen called it a civil war. Martial law's been declared." said another leader, Marcel Damien. They had all taken Varkouri-Dysanii names to hide their real identities, most of which included numbers. They felt it could give them away as wealthy plantation owners.

"Whew."

"I think it's time we organise an army, sir."

"An army? Well, who are the major supporters of our plight?"

"Convieniently enough, hunters and former officers. But we're outnumbered by about 10 million right now."

"You know, I think you're right. We all know Belsen's brutal enough to go about torching cities around here."

"Good, good. Engel here - I mean 'Augustin here', was a Marschall in the army. He can handle everything."

[Myroria]

^{Loyalist forces parading in front of the Royal Obelisk, recently renamed the "Democratic Obelisk of Freedom" (OOC: Imagine all the gold color on them is replaced with dark grey, and the jacket buttons are pewter. A very depressing army.)}

Democratic Obelisk of Freedom, Pelagis

The drums were beating in a slow, rhythmic pattern. The first part sounded as if the words of a drillmaster "left, left, left, right, left" were translated into a loud drum; a "boom...boom...boom-boom-boom", then followed by a quick tapping on a snare. Julius Belsen was standing in front of the obelisk, surrounded by guards, saluting as the soldiers crossed. The Myrorian Salute was keeping the legs together, and having the right arm at a 90 degree bend; almost as if taking an oath without words. Once the Loyalist forces crossed to patrol the countryside (of course, not marching through loudly as they just did), the dictator-chief retired to his office. He was becoming madder with each day - he had an advisor killed because he suggested Belsen stop taking drugs. Losing more of the populations' support everyday, he was forced to put out survaillance systems to make sure that the populace didn't attempt to rebel. He would have a committee review every foreign broadcast coming in over the airwaves; if he didn't like them, they never existed. Inglo-Scotia, of course, could not accept refugees that didn't know they were welcome.


But the third major faction, the Democrats, were learned. Many had left once Belsen outlawed free speech; who would want to die? Those that left would phone their compadres in Myroria and tell them what other nations said; they had formed an uneasy alliance with the Royalists, because both sides believed in "the enemy of my enemy is my friend". There hadn't been a real "battle" in weeks; all sides were standing by, biding their time. The Royalists had money. The Loyalists had government support. The Democrats had intelligence. But it would only be so long before the war would go into full swing...

[Dysanii]

General Smith raised his hand to silence the small group of men; all were old, uniformed and fat - the war committee. Behind him was large map of Myroria, which had been attached to the wall. He gave a curt nod to the assembled officers before continuing. "Gentleman, as you all know, we are now authorized to use extreme force on  anyone who defies the new rule." Murmurs of 'Royalists' and 'Scum' were muttered. "I present to you General Pierce, who will take you through his proposed plans to silence a great threat to our nation - the Royalists." A stocky, older man walked briskly to the map, and motioned with a cane to a small area in the Western region of Myroria.

"This is believed to be - no, this IS where the Royalist headquarters are. This area is crawling with Royalist supporters, and my informants tell me that this is where the organization behind the Royalist movement is conducted." He stopped and stared each member present in the eye. "It is in my opinion that we must destroy these bastards before they gain more support. A swift, decisive attack at the center of their operations that will cripple the cause." Many present nodded in agreement. General Pierce made a slow arcing gesture around the North of the area. "We have 1,000,000 mixed soldiers and volunteers battle ready in this area. I request that the committee allow this force to strike at the Royalist heart, with me in command, and we will stamp out this menace forever." The committee members nodded vigorously and signed the relevant paperwork, all eager to be done with the Royalist threat.   

 

[Myroria]

Blithewold Plantation, Yellow Parlour

"Sire, sire!" said a scout entering the room.

"What is it, man?" asked Marcellin.

"Jeeps full of men are roaming the countryside. Their hood has the No." The "No" was slang for the Star of Pelagis, what was essentially a no sign, with one half of the circle dark grey, the other light grey, and the line and circle black.

"Goddamnit! Where's the nearest Royalist forces, Augustin?"

"We've got about 50,000 around Georgetown, about 20 kilos south of here, and 70,000 in Hollowcaster. Want me to order them here?"

"Yes."

"Right away." he said, giving the old Pelagian (Roman) salute.

[Myroria]

OOC: Dysanii?

[Dysanii]

Georgetown

The chaos of battle could be heard for miles around. Artillery pounded, tanks navigated the now boggy terrain and  deep thuds of bombs could be heard as bomber planes unloaded their deadly cargo.

30,000 Government troops, under General Harrison, had begun the attack on the Royalists. Using his large array of mobile units, or more appropriately modified jeeps lumbered with Rangers, Harrison had been able to command a lightening attack on the enemy stronghold.

Under the premise he would receive upwards of 90,000 soldiers to hold his line within the next week, he had devoted his entire force to the attack in hope of taking Georgetown off the unknowing Royalist forces. But now, now...they had mustered quicker than anticipated. For what reason he did not know, but what he did know was that instead of fighting a few untrained guards, he had unwittingly trapped a full army, maybe some 50-60,000 troops within Georgetown. Now, although this was good in the grand scheme of the attack, he now had to deal with a far superior force, and what had once started out as a fast preemptive strike into the enemies stronghold had turned into a slugging match.

Reports were also flooding in that another Royalist force was coming up behind him (location?) from Hollowcaster to cut him off from the main force. The Loyalist attack had already hit its first bump...

[Myroria]

OOC: Hollowcaster is 10 kilometers southwest of Georgetown.

"So this is what we do," said the general in command of forces at Georgetown, inside a billiard room on the bottom floor of a hotel, as the ground shook around him. He pointed to a map of Georgetown spread haphazardly over a billiard table.

"We just keep defending. Don't move, just dig in for the long hall. Set up all flak near any strategic buildings, including this hotel. They'll only hurt themselves trying to break a superior force with reinforcements on the way."

"Yes sire." said the major as he went left the hotel to give orders.

[Saletsia]

OOC: Alia iacta est

[Myroria]

OOC: No, it's Alea Iaci Est, I checked Wikipedia.

[Saletsia]

OOC: sorry for the hijack...trust me, wikipedia is not a very reliable source since it does not conjugate verbs...in this part you need the PPP (Partizip, Perkeft, Passiv of the verb which is iacta).

[Myroria]

In each edition of the enormously popular French comic book Asterix, once Asterix sinks the pirates' ship, the first mate says to the captain, "Alea jacta est." In the television series Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, there is an episode by this very name, instead it references the crossing of a joint Cardassian-Romulan fleet entering the Gamma Quadrant.

(J is the latin version of what is now I, hence the moon of Jupiter being both Japetus and Iapetus). I don't think every Asterix comic, a Star Trek episode, and Suetonius, a Roman scholar, would get their Latin wrong.