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Guns, Steel, and Colors. Oh my... -_- by Zaldun

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Chapter notes: This is my first try at writing in a while. I hope ya'll like it! Oh, and I plan to actually finish this story, unlike my last one...
The Green robed man stood on the porch of a cliffside home. About 30 feet below was the ocean, relatively calm and placid. Little waves lapped against the shear stone cliff that jutted straight up out of the water, almost as if made by human hands. Atop the cliff was a home, inhabited by one man. The hour was late, the moon was high in the sky, bathing the ocean in a beautiful radiance. But the Green Robed man wasn't admiring the moon. His gaze was fixed upon the city on the other side of the harbor. That ancient city, which had stood for so long at the mouth of the Hilaron river. It's ancient stone walls had been outgrown long ago. It was now a sprawl of buildings. At its center was the old palace, which competed in height with new 5 story buildings. But it was not the cities grandeur and size which attracted the green robed man's gaze. It was one simple fact. The city was on fire.

From where he stood, two miles away, the city looked like a distant sheet of glowing flame. Yet even at this distance he could see individual buildings burning. His eyes traced over the wooden slums at the outskirts, now being consumed by hellish torrents of flame. Then over the city centre, with it's new office buildings and it's royal palace He paused to stare. The ancient palace which had stood for hundreds of years was on fire. For the first time in recorded history, the City of Hilaron had fallen. And he could do nothing but stare.

In-between him and the city, sitting in the middle of the bay, were the culprits responsible for the cites current holocaust. seven sleek, metal dreadnoughts sat at anchor, flying the flag of distant Musra. As he watched, another round of shells were fired into the city. They ships had been firing for over an hour now again and again. ripping apart buildings, sparking fires. Killing hundreds. And the fire was killing additional thousands. The green robed man continued to look on, not moving, not reacting. Watching his city burn. As he watched, his mind recorded that the city was burning. And he once again felt powerless. Just like oh so many years ago. So long ago, watching his village be slaughtered by savages in the northern frontier. Oh how he had raged then. But that had been different. He had had a weapon within reach then, and his enemies were flesh and blood. What could he do against the steel monsters sitting in the bay.

His was the only cabin on the the east side of Hilaron bay. He had built it where no-one wanted to live, out on the outskirts, surrounded by rock. He wanted to escape society. Every week he had walked down to an nearby village five miles further inland for food, and marched back. He did not want for money, the king's pension for his service in the savage war was more then generous. But none of that mattered now. As he watched Hilaron City burn to the ground, there was only one thought in his head. ‘That is MY city… my friends, my nation. My people.’ and he felt nothing but shock. And again, the dreadnoughts fired a round of shells into the defenseless mass of fires that had once been the most glorious city in the southern hemisphere. And even over two miles of distance, he could clearly hear the screams of the dying.
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The woman lay sleeping in her tent. It was rather large for a tent, it had room enough for her bed, a small wardrobe, and a table in the center. Sitting on that table was a map of the Empire of Mundir, with several markers on it indicating the positions of army units. Silently the woman stirred in her sleep. Her dreams war sized by an nightmare. A nightmare she would soon have no time to remember. As she lay there, her mind floating through horrible thoughts of terror she would not remember, a bell rang. She bolted upright, her awareness coming back into her tent like a shot. Someone was rigging for her. She got up and out of her bed, passing a mirror. She had slept in her uniform, which was wrinkled as a result. Her hair was disheveled, but she could fix it later. She wasn't a housewife answering her husbands door, time was of the essence. She reached the door of her tent and parted it. Standing there was one of her soldiers. Lt. Peters she believed. He saluted sharply when he saw her. She barely had time to return the gesture when he blurted out: "General Ambers, Hilaron city is under attack." his face was pale and his posture stiff.

General Ambers took a sharp intake of breath. "That's impossible. She whispered. "The capital is over a thousand miles from the border." She quickly fixed her eyes on the Lt. who knew better then to answer her. "Summon the senior staff to my tent in ten minutes. Bring all the information we have." She ordered shapely, her mind racing through possibilities. The Lt. rushed off to carry out her orders, and she disappeared inside her tent.

That capital, under siege… how? She pondered, and she quickly drew her hair into a ponytail, and donned her favorite red sash. She fingered it absently as she stared at the map on her table. The Capital was on the southern coast of the Empire, the Empire's only coast. There was only one way it could have been attacked.. but that was impossible. The Imperial fleet was unbeatable. Wasn't it? She stared at the markers for the great naval bases on the Empire's coast. Mundir had 17 dreadnoughts, more then any other nation in the world. If they had been defeated… She bit her lip, surveying the map.

Well regardless of HOW the enemy sieged the capital, they needed a plan to defend it. Her army was the closest to the capital, at just 90 miles north. But still… that was 3 hours by rail. Her's was the army of the interior, tasked with handling all rebellions, and enforcing martial law within the realm. She never thought she would need to repel an invasion. She had so little information… was it an invasion? She would have to wait for her staff to show up. She paced her tent, summoning her full presence into the room. In a situation like this maintaining decorum was more important then anything. She quickly straightened her uniform in the mirror, and breathed. She ran her eyes over her famous red sash, drawing composure from it's blood red hue. She turned around to stare at the map. Her senior staff would be showing up at any moment.
Chapter end notes: Very short I know. These two are the main characters methinks. IDK, I'm still planning this.
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