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AN UNSUNG WAR:PART 3
Unmasked.
Ocketburst.
The Colonel climbed over the Destroyed Car and onto the Freezing Concrete, Smoke Billowed from the Towns Centre and he guessed Artillery was working its way deep into Eskovarian Lines. His theory was confirmed when he saw a Flash and Explosion smash through a nearby Coffee shop.
He took shelter in an abandoned office building, it seems the civilians had luckily evacuated to a more secure location, and given the brief occupation of Kaffin ended in the deaths of Thousands that was for the best. He hid in a small room with a painting of a mountain behind it, cowering behind the desk as Tanks rolled down the streets, he heard the echoes of Gunfire as Eskovarian and Hunter forces clashed in the streets nearby, explosions occasionally echoing throughout the town.
He quickly grabbed his phone from his pocket, luckily it was waterproof and still worked. He quickly called the General's Number and was relieved when he picked up the phone.
“Colonel?” The General asked, “You’ve been MIA For the past half hour and Eskovarian Forces are falling back across the front, what happened?”
“The Enemy overwhelmed us with superior firepower and what appears to be more advanced weaponry in a quick attack, our forces stood no chance.” The Colonel reported.
“The Hunters appear to be equipped with Very Advanced vehicles, reports of powerful artillery mixed with an unknown model of tanks are coming out of the frontlines as we speak, and I doubt we can hold another day.” The Colonel finished.
“Dear Lord help us.” The General said.
An Explosion echoed through the town, and the colonel remembered how close the enemy was.
“I Must go now, I will try to call you back later.” He said, and the Colonel hung up and bolted through the door to hopefully reach friendly frontlines
BBG-29, E.M.S ‘Thunderchild’, 46 Miles from Craitoria.
The Thunderchild wasn’t alone in her Venture, the Warship had an escort fleet and it was unlikely they would she would ever sail without one. However, almost all of the escort fleet was racing ahead. Thunderchild wasn’t slow, able to make about 32 knots or even 33 knots in good conditions, but the Destroyers and Light Cruisers of the Eskovarian navy were able to make up to 39 knots typically, and were miles ahead. She wouldn’t be able to catch up to them before they got into Gun Range, Missiles…functioned horribly in this windy and freezing weather, Despite Eskovars northern Location missiles simply weren’t built for these conditions
The Only ships near her were the Sandstorm class Destroyers, which were designed for Stealth instead of speed with their shaped hulls giving her the radar cross section of a fishing boat. The Captain had a coat on, as did everyone. As she sailed north the Air seemed to grow colder by the minute, which never was a good thing unless you were in a desert, which would be refreshing he imagined. The Only desert in Eskovar was on the main island, in the center, and it was less of a desert and more of a grassland, but its the closest they had.
“Captain, we are approaching Craitoria, estimating 45 Miles away, other escort ships are around 30 to the coastline.” The Executive officer said, the captain nodded.
“We estimate we will reach the port of Maltae in 6 hours, that's where the enemy fleet seems to have set up a blockade.” The XO told him.
“Good, how much strength does the enemy fleet have?” The Captain asked.
“It's hard to tell, based on information they seem to have mostly smaller vessels, a significant invasion force is already present on the island however.” The XO told him.
“Juicier targets for our guns.” The Captain said, resisting the unprofessional urge to laugh as he stared out at the battleship's massive guns.
“Problem is, the amount of ships…”
Eskovarian Capital of Oured
Oured was an old city turned new. In the 1890s a massive fire ravaged the city, meaning it had to be rebuilt. Rebirth, so they called it, was inevitable in Eskovaran Culture. The Concept of rebirth was that something dead would come back to life. It was not an unknown concept, Rebirth existed in more than one culture. Oured was the city of Rebirth, the proof of concept if you will.
Eskovar had many gods and Demons, Heroes and Villains in its culture and mythologies, and the Demon lord of the Nation was Jormungandr. The World Serpent. Said to wrap around Gojira, the Monster Hero and absorb his life, using it to annihilate the world. There were lots of movies, books and even video games made about the subject. Entire franchises based around the 2 Giant Titans battling. It was an old story, reborn for the modern era.
Now, Eskovar was being suffocated by an enemy that didn’t want to conquer them, but just straight up wanted them gone.
Yet the time when one is in most danger, may be the time in which they are the most dangerous
Stratocratic-Anarchy Oceanic Empire, Aserlandia, and Botion
Does anyone want to change cards
The Return to Iris
After their harrowing journey through the frozen Arctic, James R. Kennedy and his exploration team finally sighted the familiar shores of Iris. The team, weary but unbroken, had endured the unforgiving cold, navigated treacherous ice fields, and now, the sight of home brought tears to many eyes. They had been tested beyond their limits, surviving with the knowledge that their discoveries could change the understanding of the Arctic forever.
As their ship, the Iris Endeavour, made its way into the port, the people of Iris gathered in droves, their faces a mix of worry and excitement. News of the team's prolonged silence had reached home, sparking fears for their safety. But now, as the ship docked, cheers and cries of relief filled the air. Families reunited in emotional embraces, while onlookers celebrated the return of their national heroes.
James R. Kennedy, stepping onto the Iris soil for the first time in months, felt a surge of pride. His team had not only survived but had also collected invaluable data and samples that promised to advance the scientific community's understanding of the Arctic's environmental and climatic patterns. Yet, as he looked around at the faces of his fellow Irisians, he knew that the most significant discovery was the resilience and unity of his team and the unwavering support of their nation.
In the days that followed, James and his team were invited to the Royal Palace, where King James I himself commended their bravery and contribution to science. The King, known for his interest in environmental conservation, listened intently as James recounted their experiences, the challenges they faced, and the implications of their findings for global climate research.
The celebration of their return extended beyond the palace, as schools, universities, and scientific institutions invited James and his team to share their knowledge and experiences. The story of their expedition became a source of inspiration, reminding the people of Iris of the importance of exploration, perseverance, and the pursuit of knowledge.
But for James, the journey was more than a scientific expedition; it was a testament to the human spirit's capacity to endure, adapt, and overcome. The challenges they faced in the Arctic had forged bonds that would last a lifetime and had taught him the true value of teamwork, determination, and the support of a nation united behind its explorers.
As he looked forward to the next adventure, James knew that the story of their Arctic expedition would be remembered not just for its scientific achievements, but for the enduring spirit of exploration that drives humanity to seek the unknown, to face the greatest challenges, and to return home, changed but unbroken.
And so, the legend of James R. Kennedy and his team became an integral part of Iris's rich tapestry of history, a beacon of hope and courage for future generations to follow.
James R. Kennedy will be coming to St Abby soon!
Draganisia, Aserlandia, and Botion
Hey guys, what are you doing?
For whom the Taco Bell tolls!
The large number of small talk from new nations and embassy regions is good and all. Though, as others have stated before it ruins the placement and organization of roleplay posts. Feels weird to see a long post and suddenly there's a statement by another nation saying just "hi" in the RMB.
If it could be limited, that'd be much appreciated. Join the St Abbaddon discord if you wish to communicate with the region's members. Visitors from all regions are welcome to the discord. (Link here: https://discord.gg/pXqgHya)
Thank you.
— Oceania, Elder of Security, and Interim Elder of Foreign Affairs.
Draganisia, Nikolaias, and Naturia
Agreed. As of right now the RMB is only for RP Posts or Regional Announcements from the St Abbaddon Government (and probably allies as well)
If you want small talk than please join our Discord Server.
Post by Saxe-Weimar-Eisenbach und Hohenstein suppressed by 
Naturia.
Hello st Abbaddon.
Nikolaias, Techno e Mech, and Brasilonia
Post by Techno e Mech suppressed by Naturia.
I think I've completed Avaldonia's visit. HELLO ST. ABBADON!
Post self-deleted by Saxe-Weimar-Eisenbach und Hohenstein.
Hey everyone,
As you read this, our discord will be the main source for little conversations and such. If you see your message get suppressed, it’s only because we mainly use our RMB for Roleplay purposes. We aren’t doing it to be mean. It’s just so we can keep to the RP purposes! Thank you all!
Post by Nikolaias suppressed by 
Stratocratic-Anarchy Oceanic Empire.
Hello, St Abbaddon. I'm from Avaldonia. :)
Draganisia, Eskovar, Aserlandia, and Nikolaias
Search for Atlantis
James R. Kennedy had always been a man of insatiable curiosity and unyielding ambition. Born into the modest town of Iris, where the greatest adventure one could hope for was the changing of the seasons, James grew restless. The tales of old, stories of lost civilizations and lands filled with unimaginable wealth, had always sparked a fire in his heart. And so, with a heavy heart but a spirit filled with determination, James bid farewell to Iris, seeking the fortunes that lay beyond the familiar.
His quest led him to command the Allangoria, a sturdy ship manned by a crew as daring and dauntless as he. James sought the legendary Atlantis, a dream that danced on the horizon, always elusive but never fading. The journey was long and fraught with peril, but James’s resolve never wavered. Then, one fateful night, as the stars hid behind a cloak of darkness, a violent storm unlike any other struck with a vengeance.
The Allangoria, caught in the tempest’s wrath, was tossed about like a mere plaything. The howling wind and crashing waves conspired to obliterate their resolve. As the crew braced themselves for the possibility of abandoning their vessel to the merciless sea, James's heart was tormented by visions of failure. But amidst the chaos, a lookout's shout pierced the night, "Land ahead!"
James's heart leaped. Could it be? Had they been unwittingly guided to Atlantis by the storm’s cruel hand? As hope fluttered within his chest, the Allangoria fought valiantly against the storm's embrace, inching closer to salvation.
However, as dawn broke, revealing their refuge against the light of day, it became clear that this was no Atlantis. They had been cast upon the shores of St Abbaddon, a land whispered about in the corners of map rooms and sailor taverns—a place of mystery and untold danger.
The storm raged on, but the sight of land bolstered the crew's spirits and strength. James, quick to adapt and overcome, rallied his men. "We may not have found Atlantis, but we have found opportunity!" he proclaimed, his voice cutting through the storm's fury.
Under James’s command, the crew employed every bit of their seafaring skill to navigate the treacherous waters. They lowered the smaller boats, using them to tow the Allangoria closer to shore, coordinating their efforts through shouts and signals barely seen and heard over the storm.
With every inch gained, the storm's grip seemed to loosen, as if the land of St Abbaddon itself was pulling them into its embrace. Through sheer will and determination, the Allangoria and her crew made landfall, weary but unbroken.
As the storm dissipated, leaving behind a serene calm, James stood on the shores of St Abbaddon, his eyes scanning the horizon of this unknown land. Though he had not found what he initially sought, he realized that sometimes, the journey itself is the greatest treasure.
St Abbaddon, with its verdant landscapes and hidden secrets, promised new adventures and stories waiting to be written. James R. Kennedy, once a seeker of Atlantis, now stood as a pioneer on the brink of new discoveries. In St Abbaddon, he would forge a new destiny, not just for himself, but for all who dared to dream and venture beyond the horizon.
After how their last mission ended Jesse was pretty angry. Leuthenist forces were now in full retreat and soon Admiral Long would smash what was left of their fleet after the damage Jesse and Jake did to it earlier.
However that still didn’t help his mood. "We were so close but we lost him again!"
David. "It wasn't your fault. We have been getting reports of betrayals all over the place. Once again Leuthen is another step ahead."
Jesse. "How is that possible?"
Jesse's sister Alexis then entered the room. "Because he is with Victor. The one who also shot Jake during the attack on their fleet. "
Now Jesse needed to know the truth. "Who is he really?"
Princess Alexis, Head Scientist of Draganisia
“In times of crisis, people look to their leaders for answers, but ever since this war began it seems all I can offer are more questions. I hardly know where to start about him. Victor, the Dragon God of cunning and lies. Yet another of our father's brothers who went evil with their father Galen.”
“He was here with Makarov during his reign of terror attacks. But after the death of Makarov he went into hiding, not out of fear, of course, but out of strategy, because Victor knows the best way to beat your enemy... is to join them. In his greatest trick yet, he infiltrated Draganisia, weakened us from within and stole our most sacred resource — the one thing we thought he could never touch — The Light. The questions just keep piling up. And it seems the answers are buried within Rowandale in Leuthen's final Stronghold. I need someone to go in and dig them up. And by that I mean you Jesse. Rowandale has always been a nexus of power. I’d be shocked if his forces didn’t exploit that as often as possible. If my instincts are correct, what you find there could be just what we need to end this once and for all. Remember this Jesse: Victor and Leuthen’s strategy rests on knowing more than anyone else, on their abilities to twist lies and cast confusion… but now, we can turn the tables on them and finish this.”
Meanwhile David got a report from a scout. "Helena is gone. We spotted her with someone who we almost thought was Emperor Brian. He transformed into a Dragon and took her with him."
Jesse then remembered something that Leuthen told him in the past. ("It is all part of the plan. THE PLAN! Soon the universe... and your family... will die!")
Jesse knew the truth now. "He is looking for something. And believes she might be the key to unlocking something big."
Now David was angry. "What do you know?"
Jesse answered. "Everything! Including the fact you two were apparently set up together since birth. Did you even know that?"
David sighed and answered. "Yes. He told me right before my 18th birthday. Once we first met I knew there was some sort of connection between us but even now I still don't know exactly what it is."
Gladius knew the reason they would go there. "In order to wake up Bahamut they need to find the Guardian of his Tomb. Both of which are there. Rowandale... Leuthen's Final Stronghold. That is where you will find Helena and the Guardian she seeks!"
Post self-deleted by Stratocratic-Anarchy Oceanic Empire.
Battle of Middleman's Cove
“Home by winter. Home by Bah'mas. What a lie that was.”
---
A man could give a thousand lordships to find either love or honor. No matter, in the end of time, the man would find neither.
Eliezer had seen all manner of people fight in battles such as these. Noblemen of esteemed lineages. Rich magnates over vast sums of wealth and power. The poorest of the poor with little to nothing to go back to. Those of the low were sometimes eager to either fight or die, only for the reason being that they had nothing to lose. Even in these skies, as white and ash they were. The glossiness of the canopy couldn’t hide the truth. Remnants. Anarchians. Draganisians. Stonehollese. It mattered not. All men bled the same.
…
Middleman’s Cove, Red Villa, 4 Miles From the Northern Stonehollese Border… Operation Wintertide.
<<I got a visual. Alpha One, do you copy?>>
… <<Copy Endragon-Two.>> The Draganisian flight lead was in charge of the SEAD operation. The Anarchians had fortified their positions all across the coastal valley with batteries. Able to counter any attempts by the JWC forces to pincer towards the cove. This wasn’t their first sortie… and wasn’t the last either. Another battery had been sighted on a seaside ridge overlooking the beachside of Middleman’s Cove. The gray azure was a splendor, but the retaliatory missiles of the foe were not so. <<Goldeye One, do you read.>>
<<Copy Alpha One. I read you loud and clear.>> The Goldhollese flight lead was in position. Captain Joseph Cossette had ordered them sent to reinforce the Allied lines in Draganisia, but the pilots had refused. To that extent, Eliezer appreciated their bravery but was worried about their upcoming court-martial.
<<Open up Goldeye Three and trail. We need a full load watching our rear.>> Goldeye Three would be watching their rear as they approached the cliff. Different from when he and Vita were on the tail-end of the escort in the prior sorties.
Vita was puzzled, so from the internal comms she called. “Eliezer, the hell you're thinking? Goldeye Three is to help conduct the SEAD operation? The Endragons and the Goldeyes have the Magnums.” (Magnum = anti-radiation missiles)
“In case the others don’t make it, we need Goldeye Three in the rear. We’re not equipped with any Rifles, Vita. Keep an eye on the infrared sensors, the Anarchians have held their positions here for three days now. Enough time to set up hidden positions along the cliffs. I’d rather we go down with enemies downed than if we go down with nothing.” (Rifles = air to ground missiles)
<<Alpha One my radar’s showing a bogey closing fast.>> Endragon-Two called in.
“Vita,” Eliezer called, “Get the dope?”
“Wilco, I’m on it.” She called out to the Endragons as Alpha One’s radars finally detected the incoming bogeys. <<Endragon-Two, they have the old IFF. Two bandits, flanking, four miles, and approaching fast. >>
<<Copy. Alpha One, can you hold them off?>>
Eliezer took a look at his own systems. The old identification was the one the Anarchians were using, but Eliezer looked even closer at the rate of their calculated speed. It was numbers he hadn’t seen in jets before… only once. When they had first arrived at Red Villa. “They’re not the Anarchian jets we were expecting?”
Vita’s voice rose through the comms. “It’s them?”
“Who else?”
“That means the airships won’t be far behind.” Vita called out, <<Bloomer. All friendlies go Retrograde and Gate. Two bandits fast approaching… Screw the mission… Scatter! Best you save yourselves. It’s the Bastards.>>
The five jets in the Goldeye squadron and the four in the Endragon SEAD squadron immediately broke off from the sight of the cliffs. “Vita, call for the Steel Wolves. I need Commander Tin’s squadron up here now. And call for a Bird barrage from the OSS Amelia II. If Vice Admiral Roydark gets even a few missiles up there, we’ll be clear enough to engage the experimentees.”
“Eliezer,” Vita responded, “There’s no clear assurance that the Navy’s missiles will arrive in time to relieve us.”
“Better that they can do it than they can’t, Vita. Send the transmission. And go secure on comms.”
“Wilco,” Vita stated.
<<This is AWACS Shell, Alpha One. Reporting BRAA: Group 070, 120 north, Angels 13, Hot. We’ve received your transmission for a bird from the flagship OSS Amelia II. Surface ships are approaching the Middleman’s shoreline but it will take some time. There is active counterfire along the shore, and without SEAD units it will take time.>>
<<Two of the Bastards were detected by Endragon-Two. Do you have a visual?>> Vita asked.
<<Negative, Alpha One. You sure it’s not a ghost.>>
<<They’re still on our radar, AWACS. Not sure what you’re seeing,>> Eliezer said.
<<I’m telling you Alpha One, we have nothing. All ASUW units report no aerial sightings of any kind.>>
“Eliezer, I have a Ladder. Our two bandits and one bogey,” Vita stated.
“Consider all three hostile, Vita. They’re contact to us but not the AWACS. The AWACS can’t see them, the navy can’t… We’re alone here.” Eliezer sighed, the heaviness of the moisture in his breath sticking onto his teeth. “How long ‘till our tumbleweeds arrive.”
“Reinforcements will be arriving in five minutes. They’ve just pulled chocks.”
<<Alpha One, do you read me. I’ve gotten no transmission from you.>>
Alpha One. <<...>>
Eliezer knew he had to make a choice here. And it was the one he’d wished to avoid at all costs.
<<AWACS Shell, transmit to JWC and Commander Raquelin. I am Unable. Alpha One will be maintaining tactical control over itself. Alpha One will switch its directives to Weapons Free and to Kill. AWACS Retrograde Green East with the Navy. I’d rather not see an Anyface shot down by the Bastards.>>
<<Wilco. Good luck, Alpha One. Bahamut bless.>> The AWACS Shell broke off from their rendezvous with Alpha One.
“You’re willing to fight three of them?” Vita questioned.
“Us Wolves have already killed one. What’s three more?” Eliezer said. The reluctance in his voice was hard to hear. But it was there. “I didn’t want this, you know.”
Eliezer knew even the best of pilots felt fear. So he knew that Vita was uneasy by this decision of his. They were going up against three jets they barely knew anything about. Out-of-range of reinforcements for now. And without the backing of any other forces from the ground.
They had to do this, though. Who knew what those three jets could do to the allied forces on the ground trying to break the siege of Middleman’s Cove. A pilot and a Wizzo.
“Good,” Vita echoed. “At least you know you’re not invincible.”
…
“Vita,” Eliezer knew the tone of exhaustion well enough, “are you alright?”
“Gods, no!” she shouted through the comm. “I’m doing great.”
One minute in…
Eliezer had managed to avoid four separate Aim-120s, the three hostiles had launched in unison. Activating Alpha One’s afterburners to put themselves as much distance away from the hostile experimentees. They were trying to take him out with BVR methods… which was the logical method, but he knew his way out.
“Confetti, south, and trailing,” Vita called out. Signifying she’d dropped chaff ordnance behind them. “I tell you're going to lose the rest of the missiles in the cliffs.”
“The chaff’s useless,” Eliezer grunted. He kept the jet’s movement forward. “Let them think I’m getting desperate to avoid them. That’ll keep their confidence up.”
Two minutes in…
“Negative visibility, Eliezer.”
“They’ll be closing in soon. Stay ready.”
The missiles swerved to and fro as they persisted towards him. Eliezer closed in close to the cliffs, and then suddenly banked. The thing about the cliffs of Middleman’s Cove was that the brush and trees covering them were numerous. The missiles one-by-one lost their persistence of him. Two slammed into the cliffs. The others lost into the trees. The orange glows emitted through the night were enough of a sign.
Just when he thought he was relieved. “SAM launch. North, head off—”
Three minutes in…
He was now stuck hovering over enemy airspace. Not just one SAM but several began to target him. Eliezer kept close to the cliffs now, using the land to his advantage and the thick brush. But he knew he couldn’t keep this up.
Vita called out, “Losing our energy here. Bandits are trying to lock.”
“I’m trying, Vita. The turn and burn.”
They had fuel still… which was fine. But they would, they be fine to engage the three bandits… Eliezer was already doing ill here. But they could still survive.
Two minutes in…
“SAMs stopped launching. Tumbleweeds on two.”
Gray shadows in the mist. In the darkness. All they wanted was to finish off this jet. Except they were hidden still, waiting for the opportunity to strike their prey. Eliezer took this moment to lead them towards the east…
One minute in…
<<Alpha One this is Fairness 3, Status.>>
<<Alpha One Engaged, Three Hostiles, Negative visual>> Eliezer called out. <<Took you long enough to get here, Tin.>>
Vita called, <<Bastards are four miles north 080. They’re Anchored… just moving in circles..>>
<<Orbiting?>> called Fairness 3, or Commander Tin. <<Alpha One, we still have no Visual of Hostiles. We’re Blind.>>
<<They’ve stopped,>> Eliezer called.
<<I can see that,>> Tin called out. <<Fairness 4, Trailer Alpha One.>>
<<Wilco,>> called Fairness 4.
The two jets approached cautiously. Fairness 4’s F-16 tailed Alpha One as they kept their distance, but able to see the jets of the Experimentees. As they’d seen in prior footage of the jets, they were extremely irregular. Oddly shaped and with several additional fins. They seemed so orthodox from any other air forces… they looked funny to him.
Behind that shape were three devils on the other hand. Ones that had been able to wipe out entire squadrons. They nearly managed to down him just from a distance. But they were no longer chasing them. They were watching from the tops of the cliff.
<<We’d best withdraw to Green East. If they’re not putting in chase, we can cover the Navy.>>
“You sure about that, Eliezer?” Vita questioned.
“They don’t seem to want to engage. I’d say we leave with the Fairness Squadron.”
…
The Anarchians had done their best to achieve their goal. They had crossed the Red River, penetrated through the cliffs and surrounded Middleman’s Cove, putting it under siege with all its forces. The shorelines were littered with naval batteries holding back the warships of Elhtiol Bay, and the cliffsides were covered with parasitic SAMs now.
Eliezer had survived this engagement. But it was quiet. The six jets of Fairness Squadron and Alpha One were making their way close to the surface action group operating in the Elhtiol Bay. It was quiet. A serene moment, perhaps… he’d escaped death. The Steel Wolf.
<<Alpha One, to all units, Hostiles Approaching Hot, Fast… and… oh,>>
Rowandalian Admiral Russ Roydark from the OSS Amelia II called in. <<Alpha One. Fairness 3. Forty-seven bogeys are inbound east 170. Over.>>
Then they all heard the roar…
“Airships!” Vita called.
---
In an hour, they’d lost fourteen pilots. Commander Tin, half of Eliezer’s own Alpha Squadron that had come in to reinforce mere minutes once the drone swarm came. When the airships arrived pummeling the ground forces of the Alliance in Middleman’s Cove with such scale yet scene anywhere but here. Not even the besiegers in Blenice, with their horrifying tales of bombardment and assault from the airships had seen anything like this.
The Steel Wolf perservered. A story he'd rather not tell. A story retold in the new war. First in Rowandale. Now here.
It took an hour to clear them out… but at what cost.
Middleman’s Cove was won in the end. The one they called the Battle of Bah’mas. But the fight had not yet ended. More would come, Eliezer knew.
Only that soon those battles would entail the final step against Anarchia and Trutinia. The finality of the efforts of ideology and war within the lands of Oceania. The matters of peace and war brought to an indecisive conclusion. The beating heart of St Abbaddon being fought with blood and steel. Rowandale. Rowandale. Rowandale, came the hidden clamor. One he knew nothing of what would come. Nothing of the sacrifices that would be made. He did not know that soon the paths he'd ventured through would reach their end in Rowandale. A promise fulfilled. A friend made and lost.
Rowandale. Rowandale. He didn’t know that. He would soon.
Draganisia, Eskovar, Aserlandia, and Dragania WA
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