September 7th, OE 102
Bern, Switzerland
Jericho Faction Advanced Forces Temporary Camp Outskirts
8:18 PM
So far, so good.
As the Jericho Faction had made its way north in parallel with the efforts of its equally ambitious Lunar-sympathizing rival in the east, there had been surprisingly little resistance as it had entered Switzerland. The Faction's troops had kept their discipline, and the locals were grateful for any willing to turn their guns on the Ruina, showering Lord Jericho and his entourage with gifts and valuable resources - though little in the way of any fighting aid, it was enough to raise the spirits for what would almost certainly become a grueling and bloody battle for supremacy.
Despite the occasional raid from the Ruina, there had been no sign whatsoever of Terra Sentinel. Their positions and camps had been cleared out only days prior to the army's arrival, with seemingly not a word given to those whom they had previously protected - or in some cases, pillaged. Berner Platte - plates of meat piled high, cheese, and warm mugs of swiss chocolate were jovially distributed to the welcome hands and mouths of the soldiery, and an atmosphere of camaraderie had broken out among the disparate and disaffected terrans who had joined - many only recently - under the same banner.
So it was, that Jericho and the latest addition to his inner circle would find themselves under the warm, late-summer night, the lights of Bern twinkling in the distance, flanked by colossal mountains and endless, rolling green fields, the full and absolute beauty of the world that seemed almost at peace here, in a nation that had made neutrality and objectivity the heart of its ideology.
They were as ready as they were ever going to be.
Pit... pat...
One by one, the droplets began to fall. Troops out in the open squinted up at the sky, then scurried away to their own temporary barracks and vessels, lumbering Rhinoceroses playing host to dozens of smaller dwellings, surrounded by the crouched forms of Gespensts, Huckebeins, and Zecharaiahs.
There was a whistle overhead, and a glint of roiling, fluttering metal. Near silent, green flecks spitting from their engines, the trio of machines landed - among them, a welcome sight for any acquainted with it:
A white and red machine, crouched one one knee as it looked up, its spined silhouette somehow reminiscent of both a warrior... and a coiled serpent. Flanking it on either side were identical, dark green and blue doppelgangers, nigh-perfect reproductions of the original. No alarm went up. There seemed to be no surprise of any kind as the three waited, patiently - before their cockpits opened, one after another.
The first cool, night zephyr sang through the camp.
...What could they possible want?
Bern, Switzerland
Jericho Faction Advanced Forces Temporary Camp Outskirts
8:18 PM
So far, so good.
As the Jericho Faction had made its way north in parallel with the efforts of its equally ambitious Lunar-sympathizing rival in the east, there had been surprisingly little resistance as it had entered Switzerland. The Faction's troops had kept their discipline, and the locals were grateful for any willing to turn their guns on the Ruina, showering Lord Jericho and his entourage with gifts and valuable resources - though little in the way of any fighting aid, it was enough to raise the spirits for what would almost certainly become a grueling and bloody battle for supremacy.
Despite the occasional raid from the Ruina, there had been no sign whatsoever of Terra Sentinel. Their positions and camps had been cleared out only days prior to the army's arrival, with seemingly not a word given to those whom they had previously protected - or in some cases, pillaged. Berner Platte - plates of meat piled high, cheese, and warm mugs of swiss chocolate were jovially distributed to the welcome hands and mouths of the soldiery, and an atmosphere of camaraderie had broken out among the disparate and disaffected terrans who had joined - many only recently - under the same banner.
So it was, that Jericho and the latest addition to his inner circle would find themselves under the warm, late-summer night, the lights of Bern twinkling in the distance, flanked by colossal mountains and endless, rolling green fields, the full and absolute beauty of the world that seemed almost at peace here, in a nation that had made neutrality and objectivity the heart of its ideology.
They were as ready as they were ever going to be.
Pit... pat...
One by one, the droplets began to fall. Troops out in the open squinted up at the sky, then scurried away to their own temporary barracks and vessels, lumbering Rhinoceroses playing host to dozens of smaller dwellings, surrounded by the crouched forms of Gespensts, Huckebeins, and Zecharaiahs.
There was a whistle overhead, and a glint of roiling, fluttering metal. Near silent, green flecks spitting from their engines, the trio of machines landed - among them, a welcome sight for any acquainted with it:
A white and red machine, crouched one one knee as it looked up, its spined silhouette somehow reminiscent of both a warrior... and a coiled serpent. Flanking it on either side were identical, dark green and blue doppelgangers, nigh-perfect reproductions of the original. No alarm went up. There seemed to be no surprise of any kind as the three waited, patiently - before their cockpits opened, one after another.
The first cool, night zephyr sang through the camp.
...What could they possible want?