MISSION: SALT THE EARTH

[initiatesnpc]

Date & Time: October 17 - October 23
Location: Southwest Russia, 1223 CE
Characters: ALL; tag yourselves in
Summary: The Initiative sends all of the Transports on a mission to fight troops of the Golden Horde.
Warnings: war, violence, npc death (notify a mod if there's cause to add a particular warning!)

It is a warm day when the Transports arrive, a breeze blowing and sparse clouds in the sky. Before them is an expanse of flat land interspersed with some short, rolling hills. There are sparse trees, but for the most part it is grassland. It would be ideal for farming, but has not been utilized as such yet. Several miles in the distance is a small town, and the troops of the Golden Horde have made their camp just outside of it. There are about a thousand soldiers present, and the mission is simple: send a message that this land cannot be claimed. They will do this by defeating these warriors who are feared throughout the medieval world. They will then punctuate this statement by ensuring that this land cannot be farmed for centuries.

It is a small expanse of land that the Initiative has their eyes on, no more than ten miles in diameter. But for some reason, they have deemed it to be of a deep strategic importance.

The Transports arrive in the early morning, escorted by several Initiative officers, whose presence is meant primarily to keep things organized while the actual battle is to be left to the Transports. Under the guidance of these Initiative officers, the first order of business for the Transports is to set up a camp of their own. The battle will commence in the late afternoon, six hours after their initial arrival.

The battle will take place halfway between each side's respective camps. Many of the Mongolians will fall in combat. On the fifth day, the remaining soldiers will retreat, surrendering the area. Once the region has been secured, the second portion of the mission will commense, in which the Initiative will oversee the dispersement of a chemical agent over the land to ensure that no crops may be grown there. It will be harmless to all humans and animal life, and some weeds may even be able to take root, but the grain farming that would have otherwise taken place on this land will not be able to be undertaken. The land outside of this ten mile radius will be unharmed, but this small region will be barren, seen as cursed when the legend of the defeat of the soldiers of the Golden Horde is passed on.

A week after the mission's commencement, the Transports will be sent back to Exsilium. Their mission will have been a success. But the fallout of it will remain to be seen...

Comments

[honkalypse]

[Does it count as looting if he's tearing the heads off of the dead and using them to piss off the living horde? Because that's what this too-skinny, tall, and obviously inhuman kid (can't be more than 14) is doing at present.

He's covered in blood, sticky over skin, clothes, and messy but still recognizable clown makeup, and he cackles at the enemy as the bear down on him, careless of his own safety. Fear hangs about him, not distinguishing between friend or foe, and he seems unusually skilled in making the enemy blindly furious.

Clubs don't seem to be a good weapon against bows and horses, but he's much faster than he looks, almost too fast to see at points. He's also brutal, and clearly enjoying the whole deal a lot.

And then he turns suddenly and looks Gregor right in the eye. For a moment he's still, possibly enough to recognize him as a roommate. Albeit one who hasn't shown his face much.]

Got a slip-soft all down over me. MOTHERFUCKING TOUCH WHAT'S COMING FROM YOU AND NOT BEING MEANT UP AT ME.

[It seems he's noticed the psychic "help" Gregor has been giving out.]

[thornwishes]

[WOOPS. With a grunt he pulls back, especially when he sees who it is yelling at him. He recognizes him in an odd sort of way, the build and hair is enough not to mention the skin.

So with a shrug he twists to swipe at someone coming towards him, not caring how the other kills so long as well, they're dead. And angering the enemy isn't something he's fond of but if it works for the alien then well he's not about to ask.]

Fine then, do as you like! [But that's one bolt pistol shot towards a foe near Gamzee, exploding and messily separating an arm from torso.] But do watch your flank!

[honkalypse]

THAT WAS MY MOTHERFUCKING KILL MOTHERFUCKER.

[Nevermind that the soldier might have gotten an attack in while his attention was elsewhere. Gamzee doesn't quite ignore the horde--any who get close enough are clubbed repeatedly--but his new focus is Gregor, and he looks very, very angry.]

Up to be stealing a brother's kill is bad shit. YOU DON'T BE DOING THAT.