Aklobian Stories and Developments
- Thread starter Montarc
- Start date
The dim street lights barely illuminate the large, bloc-esque apartment buildings as they seem to cover the streetsides endlessly. The streets have square-styled cars littered about them. Howver, the faint buzz of the streetlights is slowly pushed back in favor of large, loud diesel engines. The sound comes from three trucks of the 5th People's National Regiment; these trucks rumble down the street, stopping finally at an unimpressive apartment building.
Within minutes, three platoon's worth of People's National Regiment soldiers (Nationals) file out and lay next to the sides of the building. Thier dary greyish-blue uniforms conceal them well in the darkness; thier bolt-action rifles slightly gleam in the faint light. A platoon begins moving around back, sealing off any escape from the other side of the building, while another platoon goes through the glass doors and up the stairs in the far end of the ground floor. The ascent of the second platoon can be heard by the sound of their boots running up the stairs. This leaves the third platoon, now setting up around the front enterance of the building, waiting for the ascending platoon to return.
The second platoon finally stops at the fourth floor, and quietly makes thier way to a doorframe. "One..." a National soldier whispers, another places a small charge on the doorhandle. "Two..." a long pause is had, and suddenly- "Three!" The charge blows, and the door swings open. The Nationals pile into the room, a box-standard living room. As two Nationals turn on thier flashlights, a man, half dressed, walks out. The following moments are fast, as three other Nationals tackle the man, place him and cuffs, and drag him down the stairs. The third National, a political officer, shouts as they proceed down to the door "You have been found guilty of crimes against the state, that being revealed upon your trial in front of no less than 3 ordained judges of the Party." As he finishes, the second platoon leaves the glass doors, and piles into a truck, the detainee being thrown in.
The other two platoons follow suit, and within minutes, they leave just as fast as they had entered.
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A radio broadcast is shown:
"I officially proclaim The People's National State of Aklobia the true bastion of National Populist thought. Under my rule, Aklobia has thrived and has gained in prosperity. If my name isn't Grand Marshall Arnvi Kohxa, we shall thrive for decades to come.
GLORY TO THE PARTY, GLORY TO AKLOBIA."
(End of Broadcast)
Within minutes, three platoon's worth of People's National Regiment soldiers (Nationals) file out and lay next to the sides of the building. Thier dary greyish-blue uniforms conceal them well in the darkness; thier bolt-action rifles slightly gleam in the faint light. A platoon begins moving around back, sealing off any escape from the other side of the building, while another platoon goes through the glass doors and up the stairs in the far end of the ground floor. The ascent of the second platoon can be heard by the sound of their boots running up the stairs. This leaves the third platoon, now setting up around the front enterance of the building, waiting for the ascending platoon to return.
The second platoon finally stops at the fourth floor, and quietly makes thier way to a doorframe. "One..." a National soldier whispers, another places a small charge on the doorhandle. "Two..." a long pause is had, and suddenly- "Three!" The charge blows, and the door swings open. The Nationals pile into the room, a box-standard living room. As two Nationals turn on thier flashlights, a man, half dressed, walks out. The following moments are fast, as three other Nationals tackle the man, place him and cuffs, and drag him down the stairs. The third National, a political officer, shouts as they proceed down to the door "You have been found guilty of crimes against the state, that being revealed upon your trial in front of no less than 3 ordained judges of the Party." As he finishes, the second platoon leaves the glass doors, and piles into a truck, the detainee being thrown in.
The other two platoons follow suit, and within minutes, they leave just as fast as they had entered.
---------------------------------------------
A radio broadcast is shown:
"I officially proclaim The People's National State of Aklobia the true bastion of National Populist thought. Under my rule, Aklobia has thrived and has gained in prosperity. If my name isn't Grand Marshall Arnvi Kohxa, we shall thrive for decades to come.
GLORY TO THE PARTY, GLORY TO AKLOBIA."
(End of Broadcast)
The soft step of his boots as he walked in the mountainous terrain was familiar. With each slow, methodical step he looked at the Moon; the Moon's luminescent glow in the night gave some semblance of belonging. His outfit of old military surplus camouflage and warm, knitted insulation was coupled with the old hunting rifle he held in his hand. The homemade hat he wore snugly was keeping his head warm.
Continuing at his pace, he still glanced at that Moon; that lusterious beauty never fading. He thought, ponderingly, if somewhere, in another one of those nations the government calls "democratic scum-holds", that another man was staring at the same Moon, and if he, too, wondered what the meaning of these great nation states were. He wondered if that man even knew, or cared, of the existence of himself, and if he too should care about the existence of the other man...
As he finally made it into a small clearing, sitting squat in the center was a small lodge. He walked up, entered, and set his rifle down at the side of the entrance. Undressing, he stared at the typewriter in the corner next to the fireplace. Finally, he sat down and began typing. The draft title named "Hetka, Haltka, d Constivolka" (English: Free Men, Free Nation, and Free Life)...
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Waking up hamstrung on the sofa, he leaned over to reach a radio on the top of a small table to the side of the sofa. Half-dressed, and the radio showing the time of 10:42 AM, he turned on the radio as he stood up. "Yesterday, Arnvi Kohxa was taken to Crexba State Hospital No. 1, believing to be sick with a minor cold." He went into a small room, the sign in Aklobian indicating it to be a bathroom, and ran some water from the old shower. Closing the door, the radio still played meekly, "It is said that- Hold on..." the announcer sighs, then continues "The Grand Marshall, Arnvi Kohxa, has passed away at 10:42 this morning. However, the National Council has already begun preparations to honor our beloved leader. A replacement has not yet been decided at this time.
-------------------------------
The streets were lively. In Crexba alone, 500,000 people gathered with signs and shouts demanding the dissolution of the National Council. As they made their way throughout the streets, they came up upon Arsenal No 5 of the Nationals. As the mob surrounded the arsenal, the Nationals began to slowly walk inside; the garrison of no more than 100 was no match for at least the 20,000 civilians surrounding the arsenal. "Tkal, Tkal, Tkal!" (freedom, freedom, freedom!) the crowd yelled as the Nationals set up posts in the windows.
Suddenly, the smash of a window was quickly followed by the sound of a rifle firing, and after a brief pause of relative silence, a dead civilian and a wounded National fell out of a window. The crowd soon went in uproar, and as the wounded National was beaten, his rifle was stolen and the Arsenal was quickly stormed. After only a brief 1 to 3 minutes of rifle fire and window smashing, the garrison soon began walking out of the buildings, handing their rifles to the civilians, and with hands in the air, walked out into the street, with a couple armed civilians behind each of them as they trickled out.
Continuing at his pace, he still glanced at that Moon; that lusterious beauty never fading. He thought, ponderingly, if somewhere, in another one of those nations the government calls "democratic scum-holds", that another man was staring at the same Moon, and if he, too, wondered what the meaning of these great nation states were. He wondered if that man even knew, or cared, of the existence of himself, and if he too should care about the existence of the other man...
As he finally made it into a small clearing, sitting squat in the center was a small lodge. He walked up, entered, and set his rifle down at the side of the entrance. Undressing, he stared at the typewriter in the corner next to the fireplace. Finally, he sat down and began typing. The draft title named "Hetka, Haltka, d Constivolka" (English: Free Men, Free Nation, and Free Life)...
-------------------------------
Waking up hamstrung on the sofa, he leaned over to reach a radio on the top of a small table to the side of the sofa. Half-dressed, and the radio showing the time of 10:42 AM, he turned on the radio as he stood up. "Yesterday, Arnvi Kohxa was taken to Crexba State Hospital No. 1, believing to be sick with a minor cold." He went into a small room, the sign in Aklobian indicating it to be a bathroom, and ran some water from the old shower. Closing the door, the radio still played meekly, "It is said that- Hold on..." the announcer sighs, then continues "The Grand Marshall, Arnvi Kohxa, has passed away at 10:42 this morning. However, the National Council has already begun preparations to honor our beloved leader. A replacement has not yet been decided at this time.
-------------------------------
The streets were lively. In Crexba alone, 500,000 people gathered with signs and shouts demanding the dissolution of the National Council. As they made their way throughout the streets, they came up upon Arsenal No 5 of the Nationals. As the mob surrounded the arsenal, the Nationals began to slowly walk inside; the garrison of no more than 100 was no match for at least the 20,000 civilians surrounding the arsenal. "Tkal, Tkal, Tkal!" (freedom, freedom, freedom!) the crowd yelled as the Nationals set up posts in the windows.
Suddenly, the smash of a window was quickly followed by the sound of a rifle firing, and after a brief pause of relative silence, a dead civilian and a wounded National fell out of a window. The crowd soon went in uproar, and as the wounded National was beaten, his rifle was stolen and the Arsenal was quickly stormed. After only a brief 1 to 3 minutes of rifle fire and window smashing, the garrison soon began walking out of the buildings, handing their rifles to the civilians, and with hands in the air, walked out into the street, with a couple armed civilians behind each of them as they trickled out.
The mob, armed, now surrounds the National Council Building. The hastily made garrison of two platoons of Populist Guards and a company of Nationals. The state soldiers took up positions in the windows and main entrance of the Council Building. The Council Building was in the shape of a compound, the "People's Populist Garden" at the center, with the surrounding buildings full of Government departments, and the large, chunky corner being the actual Council's chamber.
A lone civilian, walking up with a white strip of cloth attached to a bent metal pole, heads toward the main gate. He places down a sheet of paper, and sets down a rock on top to keep it there. He then walks back to a barricade, rifles sticking out. A National walks out and grabs the paper, then proceeds back inside. The soldier steadily makes his way to the Council Chamber, and once in center view, reads it aloud:
"We peoples of Aklobia hereby ask of the current government three things. First, we wish to abolish the Council and establish a properly elected parliament of our choice. Second, we wish to finally open our borders to the outside world, and embrace the modern marvels they wish to bestow upon us. Finally third, we wish that the National Regiments be completely and totally abolished, and that the Officers and High Command of the National Regiments, the Guards Regiments, and the Council in general be tried for crimes against humanity, freedom, and the people of Aklobia. If you do not wish to comply with these requests, we will have no choice but to force the will of free men upon you.
----------------------
After three days, the gates of the Council Building open. In the National Garden, there stood all of the Nationals and Guards in formation, hands in the air. Their kits and firearms lay in three piles near the gate. The civilians soon began to storm in and arrest the soldiers. As the armed militiamen surged trough the building, they made their way into the Council Chamber, finding the majority of the People's Salvationary Counselors still alive, the rest... dead by choice...
The entire capital of Crexba was soon under control of the Revolution in a short time after this. Soon, the majority of Aklobia (except a few strongholds of National Regiments that were told to surrender by captured superiors, or forcefully taken down) was under control of this wave of freedom fighters. However, at the cost of this, the nation was currently government-less, as such, crime ensued...
----------------------
During this time of anarchy and loss of a state, a new book released: "Hetka, Haltka, d Constivoltka". This book, a manifesto of its author, called for a new nation predicated on Neo-Rationalism and Individualism. With this, it stated that society must be predicated on the rational and logical, the rights of the individual, and the need of humanity to embrace logic. The book however did state that emotion should not be rejected, but rather understood to be inferior in decision making, rather it is better suited to its respective situations.
On behalf of the state, its responsibilities were to do nothing but deal with court affairs, policing and law enforcement, making sure the falsehoods of religion and 'emotionalism' did not interfere with the state and its affairs, and dealing with external threats. Though it seemed mostly peaceful, the book at the end called for this new Neo-rationalism to be spread far and wide. This book soon became popular in the bookstores of Aklobia, and due to the previous government mandating a literate public, the book was read by the young and old.
A lone civilian, walking up with a white strip of cloth attached to a bent metal pole, heads toward the main gate. He places down a sheet of paper, and sets down a rock on top to keep it there. He then walks back to a barricade, rifles sticking out. A National walks out and grabs the paper, then proceeds back inside. The soldier steadily makes his way to the Council Chamber, and once in center view, reads it aloud:
"We peoples of Aklobia hereby ask of the current government three things. First, we wish to abolish the Council and establish a properly elected parliament of our choice. Second, we wish to finally open our borders to the outside world, and embrace the modern marvels they wish to bestow upon us. Finally third, we wish that the National Regiments be completely and totally abolished, and that the Officers and High Command of the National Regiments, the Guards Regiments, and the Council in general be tried for crimes against humanity, freedom, and the people of Aklobia. If you do not wish to comply with these requests, we will have no choice but to force the will of free men upon you.
----------------------
After three days, the gates of the Council Building open. In the National Garden, there stood all of the Nationals and Guards in formation, hands in the air. Their kits and firearms lay in three piles near the gate. The civilians soon began to storm in and arrest the soldiers. As the armed militiamen surged trough the building, they made their way into the Council Chamber, finding the majority of the People's Salvationary Counselors still alive, the rest... dead by choice...
The entire capital of Crexba was soon under control of the Revolution in a short time after this. Soon, the majority of Aklobia (except a few strongholds of National Regiments that were told to surrender by captured superiors, or forcefully taken down) was under control of this wave of freedom fighters. However, at the cost of this, the nation was currently government-less, as such, crime ensued...
----------------------
During this time of anarchy and loss of a state, a new book released: "Hetka, Haltka, d Constivoltka". This book, a manifesto of its author, called for a new nation predicated on Neo-Rationalism and Individualism. With this, it stated that society must be predicated on the rational and logical, the rights of the individual, and the need of humanity to embrace logic. The book however did state that emotion should not be rejected, but rather understood to be inferior in decision making, rather it is better suited to its respective situations.
On behalf of the state, its responsibilities were to do nothing but deal with court affairs, policing and law enforcement, making sure the falsehoods of religion and 'emotionalism' did not interfere with the state and its affairs, and dealing with external threats. Though it seemed mostly peaceful, the book at the end called for this new Neo-rationalism to be spread far and wide. This book soon became popular in the bookstores of Aklobia, and due to the previous government mandating a literate public, the book was read by the young and old.