05-13-2022, 02:57 PM
Five Miles (Eight Kilometers) Southwest of Côte-Verte, Auria
May 11th, 2022, 4:26 AM
Corporal Kalninš was getting tired of the explosions. And the rain. And… everything, really.
The muted sounds of artillery fire in the distance was a slow cadence in the background of their preparations, reflecting the tempo of war in Auria. The coalition army, while substantial, was surrounded by CSSC and Garda Nacōnals forces that outnumbered them greatly, keeping them limited to a (not insignificant) strip of shoreline around Côte-Verte. The constant shelling of their fortifications was an issue, but dwarfed in comparison to the supply issues the coalition now faced. With mines making naval approaches incredibly risky and anti-aircraft batteries effectively preventing air missions, any supply runs they could get wobe uld be few and far between.
“Why is Auria so wet this time of year? I know we’re close to the coast, but Mei Kašiet, I’d prefer not to be swimming in my uniform.” An Eirian Private joked, wringing the sleeve of his uniform out. The past two days had been nothing but rain, forcing the rebels and their allies to shelter in Côte-Verte or temporary camps, like the one the six soldiers were sitting in. Kalninš only gave a slight nod in reply, his mind drifting to the older Aurian couple who gave him shelter two nights ago, before they left the city and headed southwest. For angel’s sake, we have to protect civilians now too. As if we didn’t have enough problems to deal with.
Another Eirian Private in the group piped up, crossing her arms. “As if fighting a land war in Eiria would be any better. During winter, you’d be frozen solid or up to your shoulders in snow. I’d take the rain any day of the week.” The Aurian Corporal gave a slight smile, amused at how the Eirian soldiers spoke. How can the same language have such different tonalities with the exact same vocabulary? It’s a wonder we can understand each other.
A young soldier flung open the makeshift door to their tent, seemingly out of breath. “Soh… Soldiers pushing the limits of the boundary. They look to be Garda. We need… we need everyone there to maintain the current boundary.”
The soldiers wasted no time, almost flying out of the tent and making a beeline for the camp’s ammunition storage. Officers and resistance members alike quickly distributed weapons to the large crowd of Coalition soldiers, who quickly began a hurried dash down a long, abandoned road, attempting to reach the front lines of the skirmish that had just begun.
The distant booms of artillery shells were blocked by the sound of hundreds of boots hitting the asphalt, the sound of their desperate running echoing across nearby fields. As the diverse group of soldiers marched headfirst towards danger and potential death, one thing became abundantly clear:
The Battle of Côte-Verte had begun.
May 11th, 2022, 4:26 AM
Corporal Kalninš was getting tired of the explosions. And the rain. And… everything, really.
The muted sounds of artillery fire in the distance was a slow cadence in the background of their preparations, reflecting the tempo of war in Auria. The coalition army, while substantial, was surrounded by CSSC and Garda Nacōnals forces that outnumbered them greatly, keeping them limited to a (not insignificant) strip of shoreline around Côte-Verte. The constant shelling of their fortifications was an issue, but dwarfed in comparison to the supply issues the coalition now faced. With mines making naval approaches incredibly risky and anti-aircraft batteries effectively preventing air missions, any supply runs they could get wobe uld be few and far between.
“Why is Auria so wet this time of year? I know we’re close to the coast, but Mei Kašiet, I’d prefer not to be swimming in my uniform.” An Eirian Private joked, wringing the sleeve of his uniform out. The past two days had been nothing but rain, forcing the rebels and their allies to shelter in Côte-Verte or temporary camps, like the one the six soldiers were sitting in. Kalninš only gave a slight nod in reply, his mind drifting to the older Aurian couple who gave him shelter two nights ago, before they left the city and headed southwest. For angel’s sake, we have to protect civilians now too. As if we didn’t have enough problems to deal with.
Another Eirian Private in the group piped up, crossing her arms. “As if fighting a land war in Eiria would be any better. During winter, you’d be frozen solid or up to your shoulders in snow. I’d take the rain any day of the week.” The Aurian Corporal gave a slight smile, amused at how the Eirian soldiers spoke. How can the same language have such different tonalities with the exact same vocabulary? It’s a wonder we can understand each other.
A young soldier flung open the makeshift door to their tent, seemingly out of breath. “Soh… Soldiers pushing the limits of the boundary. They look to be Garda. We need… we need everyone there to maintain the current boundary.”
The soldiers wasted no time, almost flying out of the tent and making a beeline for the camp’s ammunition storage. Officers and resistance members alike quickly distributed weapons to the large crowd of Coalition soldiers, who quickly began a hurried dash down a long, abandoned road, attempting to reach the front lines of the skirmish that had just begun.
The distant booms of artillery shells were blocked by the sound of hundreds of boots hitting the asphalt, the sound of their desperate running echoing across nearby fields. As the diverse group of soldiers marched headfirst towards danger and potential death, one thing became abundantly clear:
The Battle of Côte-Verte had begun.
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