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 Nos Coepi Bellum Planning - March, March, Over the Million Dead Bodies. MARCH!

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Posts : 60
Join date : 2013-02-08
Location : Queensland, Australia (Country), Australia (Continent), Terra, Sol, Milky Way, My Stomach.

PostSubject: Nos Coepi Bellum Planning - March, March, Over the Million Dead Bodies. MARCH!   Fri 08 Feb 2013, 9:00 pm

From the incredible, creative and quite possibly unstable mind of Unstable Isotope, comes an absolute gem of a roleplay.

Nos Coepi Bellum

War. War is quite possibly the most efficient of the many processes that make up natural selection. Darwinism. Survival of the fittest, whatever you may call it, whatever guise it may take, it is still that one thing that stays as the ages unfold. It is the breaker and the forger, the anvil upon which men are made and upon which men are broken.

Millenia have passed since the 'golden age' of humanity, when we ruled the stars with a fist, iron and compassionate. Where every day dozens of exploration vessels ploughed the fields of space in search of bounties, whether it be a world ripe for life, or ripe for exploitation. Millions upon millions of human beings were born every day, and we were invincible.

No more. We still have the technology, the worlds, the people, we have lost what made us great; strength. 5,000 years have passed, and we are not omnipotent anymore. Every day, another world rebels against the great empire, and beings filled with hate and malice watch as every day, we slowly destroy ourselves. It was only a matter before one such being created an empire, unbeknowenst to us. And when that empire grew, to a power that matches ours, war was inevitable.

It was a mere exploration ship, a simple vessel, it wasn’t armed it was completely harmless too. It went in the direction of radio signals that had been detected only weeks earlier, it would arrive in only a few seconds. The small ship slowed to a halt, and a massive grey box stared at it, Alien. The crew of the exploratory vessel panicked and sent messages everywhere they could, try to communicate with the aliens but the grey box like ship would insure those communications would be delayed, permanently.

A small point flew out of the massive ship, it closed in on the exploration vessel, closer and closer, at first the crew thought it was a shuttle of some sort, but then it became obvious, this was no shuttle, it was a weapon. The small point impacted the exploration vessel and in a flash of light all that remained was rubble and body parts.

On the grey vessel a man turned in his chair, and coldly reported, “Contact destroyed Sir.”
Another man got up, he had a grey beard and a cigar in his mouth, he took the cigar out and said in a calm smooth tone, “Ok men, now that this little mess ahs been taken care of lets report back to Command, I am positive they will like the news.”

And with that the Grey box flew away, and the weapons of humanity had strung the dogs of the enemy first, an event that would change history, because it is not always what you thin that is right, some times the truth can be all the more terrifying.

Neo Terra 6/14/3145

Massive banners lined the streets of all human colonies, but here, in the capital the leader of Humanity was going to make an address to his race, a single man in control of the fate of trillions.

The man, with a dark black beard and a dark black suit, a style from centuries ago walked up onto the balcony of a tower, with massive screens on all sides showing his face. He looked out upon the crowds, millions of people with the gleam in his eyes and the darkness in his heart.

He began, in a voice made by the speakers to sound like the voice of god, “My people, the human race! Today we face the greatest threat in history, a menace has moved on us, unknown to us they have watched us! Another race! A race made of the darkest coldest beings imaginable; demons from the pits of hell have attacked our kind!” After the entire crowd started talking, some gasping some screaming, a massive roar, but it quickly went silent when the man continued, “Do not fear my people, my race! The demons will not manage to touch you, nor your families, daughters, sons they will not reach our worlds for we will stand in their way! We will not let them level our cities and kill us with no fight we will stand against them! The legions of the enemy will not break us; we will stop them! I call on you, the sons and daughters of our race to fight against them! For if we do not fight we are nothing!” The crowd blasting in applause, people cheered, they had no idea of the truth, the posters speeches and lies, they would convince humanity, such a egotistical, yet fearful race. Millions would join the forces of humanity to attack the enemy, not to defend against them.

But on the worlds of the aliens, the Ranaek they would be rallied against an enemy, in the same way that humanity rallied against them, but were humanity fought in response to what they were told was an attack, the aliens fought in response to an actual attack, and because they would be convinced that humans were demons, and that they were chosen to purge them from the Galaxy. The aliens would go in a holy war, and humanity would go thinking they were under attack. The lies through worlds, all the same, all connected. Does t matter who fired the first shot? Or does it matter who stand in the end? Leaders decide all these things.

But you, you are no leader, no captain or super soldier, nay you are the ones they send to die for their causes, their propaganda send you to battle, but your own ideals make you think that your leaders tell the truth. You are a soldier, the grunts of war, the cannon fodder and the first line of defense and attack. You are no hero, but in war men are made, but to make a man, you must first break one.

In one sector, in one solar system, on one planet, we will draw the line. We will hold against the enemy, no matter the cost. For if the enemy breaks through here, they will have Terra. The world of Oraacini is where we make our stand. On gargantuan factories spanning dozens of kilometers, to baking deserts that kill more than the war itself, and cities where guns are useless, and the best piece of equipment is your knife, we shall make our stand.

Will the war make you stronger or will it set the seeds of doubt in your cause? Will it make you run? Hide? Or fight for what you have been told, hoping that you are actually fighting for freedom, and not the insanity of people you have never met but are trusting with your life?

All will be decided, yet death is the only true winner in war.


First, this is a Planning. Which means there is a lot to do. Mostly, it's just thinking of ideas for weapons, vehicles, organisations etcetera. There will probably be a bit of confusion, which is where people think this is just a half-cooked mess. You CAN be a special forces soldier, a leet pilot, a starship captain, but... It'd also be really cool just to be a grunt. You know?

Nobody has actually seen an alien close up. Nope. The only tales heard are ones from hundreds of meters away, of shadowy figures moving in the smoke and fire. Your character will most likely be scared to death if he is a grunt, or laughing at the slaughter if he is a general.

Go wild with your creations and your ideas. Will there be a militia unit, trained in only one day, who can only hit at point blank range? Probably, although that wouldn't be very fun. Character sheets will be coming soon.

And yes. We will have futuristic russians. STOP PESTERING ME YOU DARN THOUGHTS!

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