The Great Smiley War of 2017

## Introduction

The Great Smiley War of 2017 was the war between the emojis and the RDA (Ralfian Defense Army). The war lasted 3 years and 8 days with the RDA ending up victorious. During the war, Ralfghanistan, the main base of operations for the emojis, was annexed. After the war, the Smiley Rebellion Treaty (SRT) was created to prevent further wars. There are also in here the background stories of Ralf and the creation of the Free Smileys. This was written by Jew Jewterstein. Some former stories have been lost in the process of nuking.

# **Book 1: From Humble Beginnings**

#### Story 1

Is it not the will of every man to have his name forever enshrined upon a statue, or for his name to be written in a book, taught to every kid in school? Well, I tell you, followers, Ralf too, thought the same way. He was not content just fading into obscurity in his passing, for he wanted to be remembered in a special way, unlike any man before him. On one fateful morning, he set out to do just that. He set out to find a sacred land, and after traveling for 200 days and 200 nights, he stumbled upon what we know today as the pantheon. He was unaware though, that 4 mighty titans made of ithyryl stood in place, awaiting any mere mortal who dares set foot unto the sacred lands. Created immediately before those before us had their society fall victim to the plague of blood, they sat there for eternities before eyes were cast upon them again. Ralf began to feel a mighty rumbling beneath the earth, and eventually, it became a deafening quake. The titans were awoken, and Ralf immediately knew that a major fight lie ahead. Towering over him by hundreds of feet, he knew he had to be victorious, for if he failed, he knew that only the blistering winds would sing the tale of his demise. He used his incredible speed and was able to bring down 2 of the titans before being nearly mortally wounded by the largest titan. He picked himself back up though, a sense of rage building inside of him, his vision turning that of a blood-red. He immediately went on to climb the titan and, when reaching the top, took his sword and immediately thrust it into the titan's right eye. The same followed for the last titan, and Ralf was victorious. Licking his wounds and limping back to a cave near the mount of smiley, he settled. This is where Pantheon would begin, and with it, he crafted the first of the smileys.

#### Story 2

Creamer, kupatea, and jackboy\_bryce, betrayers of smiley, brought war to the peaceful people of Pantheon. Pantheon, taken by surprise is almost annihilated in the opening battle, losing more then 400 brave stares, barely survives until reinforcements come. In an awe inspiring and triumphant return, the greatest warriors the Pantheon had to offer come just in the nick of time, swiftly turning the battle onto the invaders, pushing them out of the Free Smiley lands. With the hard fought battle now won, the brave warriors of Pantheon begin the long process of resurrection of the lost populous, ever hopeful that abuse of power on that scale will never happen again. What comes of the betrayers? For now, that chapter will go unwritten, but may smiley strike them down when they least expect it, and bring them great misfortune to their lives.

Creamer, once a member of our small brotherhood, was reached out to by correspondent T-dells, and has formally apologized for the war that he and his marauding horde waged just 12 short hours ago. With it, he has acknowledged the acts were stupid and childish, and that he should've just left the server instead of almost nuking it to oblivion. He also says he hadn't planned to do it, and that there is no forgivable explanation. Ties between our great nation and the outcasts will likely remain severed for the foreseeable future, and I am nearly positive they will never step foot in Smileys sacred borders again.

#### Story 3

Once in a time of peace and enlightenment, a civilization before our own blossomed and bloomed, before withering and dying. This time, we see Ralf visited by a wise prophet taking the shape of a Raven. The prophet whose name has been lost to the turning sands of time warned Ralf of a race known only now as the Scrouge. Unbeknownst to Ralf, he had killed the lands only defenders. Ralf at first didn't understand the prophet and instead took to ridicule until the prophet grabbed his head and made him see what really happened to those before us. He saw war, famine, pestilence, and death. The first vision was war. Ralf watched as hordes of those from the above world poured into Pantheons once sacred lands, and he watched in awe as Pantheons greatest warriors were unable to fend off the wretched hordes. He watched as Famine took hold next. He watched entire families die of starvation, in one case he walked in the shadow of a man trekking across the whole of Pantheon just to find food for his son, only for Ralf to see him return, empty-handed and heartbroken to what was once his home. The man returned and found only the stump of a tree and the tracks of thousands of the above dwellers in its place. The man died quickly afterward from starvation and sorrow. The third vision was of Pestilence, he saw what was left of the past civilization fall illness to what was called "The plague of blood", so-called as it would solidify the blood of a being slowly, wherein the afflicted would slowly lose the feeling of limbs, and then the ability to move said limbs, eventually culminating in the last thing able to move at all inside of them being the heart, which would eventually cease its rhythmic beating, too. Finally, he saw the final vision, death. He saw as the last great warriors stood fast against the coming horde, giving just enough time to complete the last titan. Too late to save their own race, they decided in a dying act of defiance, to save those of the future.

#### Story 4

If one were to peruse the ancient text, one will see that there is no translation of Serbia into the smiley language. This is not without reason, however, as Ralf knew very well what he was doing. When Ralf stumbled upon the oracle late into his tenure in cave Smiley, he asked the man what he knew of the regions and cultures of the before times. The oracle, a man known only now as the Far Seer, began weaving a tale to Ralf, the story of the Serbians; the strongest nation of the 7 Balkan alliance. The seer told Ralf about how the warriors defended the Pantheon against many would-be aggressors, being there in both their halcyon days and darkest hours, and how it was Serbian warriors who stood fast in the races final battle against the horde, buying valuable time that allowed the final titan to be created. In the end, the oracle told, not even the alliance was strong enough to defeat the hordes, themselves eventually being destroyed, but not before leaving behind the tools to cultivate a new world from the ashes of their own, one that they hoped would find a cure to the plague of blood, and ultimately succeed where they had failed; eradicating the scrouge once and for all, and bringing order to the above world. The oracle then handed Ralf a small length of fabric, one that was coloured in three stripes; Red, blue and white. Ralf held onto this cloth and would eventually sow it into his coronation mantle, keeping with him it for as long as he was King. Ralf was genuinely fascinated at both the ferocity and comradry that the Warriors showed in battle, and decided to eventually name his Royal Guard "Ralf's Tigrovi," a name quite literally translating into Ralfs Tigers. In the end, Ralf knew that he could never encapsulate into a single smiley the strong will and spirit that the Serbian people had shown in their race's closing hours, and so he left it blank; hoping one day, a man more worthy then him would instead find words to enumerate their struggle instead.

#### Story 5

Late one year, Ralf decided that he wanted to discover more of the so called before times. He wanted to know better their story, and so he sought out the best archaeologists the lands and to offer, and over a 7-month period, he found all that the pantheon had to offer. They had very little luck for quite a while, finding things like large peat fields where farms once stood, and small metal chunks here and there; to the point where Ralf began to feel disheartened and began to think maybe there really was nothing left of the before times; that was until this skull was found near what was once a tree trunk and the remnants of a house long since passed unto the sand of time. In fact, when the archaeologist first found it, he knew he had to tell Ralf before anyone else; and so set out on the 3-day journey almost immediately. Upon reaching Ralf, he was so elated upon hearing the news, that before even seeing the skull, he made the archaeologist the head of the Phoenix program, a program that I will tell about in later lore. The archaeologist very carefully unwrapped the skull, took it out of its protected box, and presented it to Ralf. Ralf was of course awestruck at how incredibly different those from the before time looked in comparison to him, but he admired the beauty that the skull emitted. In a show of appreciation, he made the scientific name for the proto-race "Homo Trollus"; homo for human of course, but he chose Trollus for the intrinsically larger teeth and eyes that they would have possessed when they were still among the living. Ralf had a special plaque made, containing the name, a small descriptor, and the name of the archaeologist that found the skull. The skull was the only complete bone relic found in the near 6-year search, showing how utterly devastating the end of their race really was.

#### Story 6

It was only a few short years after he had defeated the great titans of Pantheon that Ralf had found a strange book. The book's title, known only as Krajina, held within its worn leather walls a plethora of stories, most of which telling of great bloodshed and sorrow. The book told in particular, that of war so large in scale that entire groups of people stopped existing entirely, and with a loss of life so large that it would indirectly lead to the death of the entire race at the hand of the Above world invaders. The first story Ralf read in the book centered around a smaller battle, one held within a region that would eventually become part of the 7 Balkan alliance. The battle started in the late season of Rasmotag, known to us now as summer when several Bosanska bandits set fire to the Great Cathedral held within Tinja's historic city center. The attacks quickly ramped up to assault, then to murder, and then to mass killings in the streets. The attackers besieged the villages of Tinja and Smoluca for 80 long days, viciously killing both women and children, no-one being spared from their blood-stained blades. The book told Ralf that despite the best attempts by the Balkan defenders to break the siege, it in vain. That was until the Serbian defenders heroically took up arms with the other Balkan defenders, both fighting valiantly and to the last. The townspeople took up both sword and shield with their newfound brothers in arms, and late in the month of August, the defenders along with the newly created Garda Panteri, would push the invaders as far back as the Romanija mountain range. Alas, this triumphant victory was not won easily, for, at the end of the battle, a total of 149,000 on both sides would perish, with 50,000 civilians killed by the blades of the Bosanska's alone. Ralf felt great remorse at the conclusion of the story and would eventually erect a great monument in honour of the heroic defenders and to the victims lost in the great battle.

#### Story 7

In the same book as before, another story was written. This time not of the balkan alliance, but of a different one, One that spanned even before the before one's time. It tells of an assassin who had come to murder a tyrannical king. The king, quite astonished that the assassin had overcome his mighty defenses asks him what truly separated a common man from himself? Money or power? No, the king said. The man chooses, but the slave always obeys. The assassin was drawn back, contemplating the kings words. Like a snake in the garden of Eden, they slithered around him, making him question if his whole life had actually happened the way he thought it did. Was there really a farm? Had his father truly died under the kings coat of arms? Or was he killed by his own brothers? Cutting through the assassins great haze came another voice, the kings again. He asked again, had a man been sent to kill him? Or was it a slave? Again said the king, a man chooses, the slave obeys. The king reached and grabbed the assassins kilij, taking it into the palm of his hand and then forcing it into the assassins own. The man will act on his own accord, yet the slave will obey me. Kill me, the kings booming voice beckoned. Tear down this kingdom and let anew rise from its ashes. OBEY ME. THE MAN WILL CHOOSE HIS ACTION, THE SLAVE WILL OBEY ME. With one swift motion, the assassins blade plunges deep into the kings side, then again, and again until the king lay dead at his feet. He looks at his hands, now blood soaked, the weight of an entire people now dripping off of them. He quickly leaves the castle, guards in tow, but quickly loses them near what is now known as Mount Smiley. The assassin knowing now that the slave obeys but the man acts, puts his life of death and destruction behind him. But not before leaving the blade on a makeshift altar to whatever forgotten god he believed in. This same blade still lay, uncountable eon later, and was picked up by Ralfs mighty hand.

#### Story 8

On mount smiley all those years ago, Ralf began crafting smileys with little direction, nor did he know how to use the tools left to him by the ancient before us beings. No mere man could even imagine such visage of a smiley even in its earliest form, but one daring man sought out to spread even the earliest of Ralf's great pieces. An oracle saw that the great titans were once more at battle after falling silent after the first great invasion, and not knowing what would come of it, he told a young advisor he knew from the kings army named Arkan. Arkan was skeptical at best, and set out almost immediately from the great castle of Lorderon, carrying with him only a camera, food, and water. The journey seemed doomed from the start as Arkan saw the true destruction of the kingdoms earliest battles. Arkan saw the remains of the first titan, "Lazicu" emblazoned onto its left helmet horn. Moving down the hill into what he thought must've been the center of the battle, he saw two more titans, each with the center of their helmets bearing heavy marks from what could only have been a sword. Finally, he saw the last titan, sword left in where its left most eye would once have been. Arkan saw from inside the mountainside a fire, and so set toward it. Nearing the light source, he slowed himself and took from within his coat pocket a camera. He announced his presence and Ralf told him to stay in the rather snug archway of the cave. He obliged, but slowly snuck closer to see what the man, Ralf, was working on. Ralf looked up just in time to yell out, but it was too late, the camera snapped, and the photographer fell lifelessly behind it. Arkan didn't feel pain though, he felt a strange sense of calm wash over him right as he snapped the picture. Ralf, saddened by the death, buried him and gave his camera to the oracle, and from there, the oracle using the ghosts of the damned, created a drawing based on the picture taken.

#### Story 9

The great pantheon had many enemies at its height during the before times. Other than the 7 Balkan Alliance, there was another more loosely based Alliance formed in what was then called the Democratic Republic of Ashenvale. This alliance was different, as they had forged a demon gate and began worshipping those of the solemn below. Eventually the alliance would allow the demons from the great below to join them, anointing them with their own blood. They would grow in size; gain super strength, deep red skin, and have an eternal green fire burning within their now purple eyes. The Alliance of Ashenvale would then wage war on the smaller Kingdoms around them; first Zerazderoth, a Kingdom older than any in Pantheon. The kingdom fought hard but it was impossible for such a small kingdom to destroy the alliance. Then, in late Rasmotag, the drums boomed and the horn sounded to the song of Theosius, a larger Alliance, festooned with white Kangaroos on its tanks, Australia and 10 other nations standing firmly and without rank for 55 days. Red flags wave and bayonets shine in the summer sun. It is an umimaginable slaughter. Doom guards cut great swaths of men down, hell hounds taking whatever was left. Infernal golem's made of fire, fell from the sky, single blasts killing a dozen packed together soldiers at once. After several days, the Australian alliance calls it quits, with a small contingent retreating to the Stronghold of Zealand, it doesnt take long for them to surrender either. The Ashenvale republic would rule over almost 22% of the Pantheon in the before times, but in its decline it would fall not to outside force, but to an inside blow. Thrall, the first Far Seeing oracle would clean them of the influence of the demons, destroying the demons fountain of life. This allowed him to take control of the alliance and destroy the demon gate, and finally destroy those of the solemn below. His job finished, he retired to the great library, spending years there.

#### Story 10

(Editor's Note, This is the longest story, so it is a big read)

Ralf had many visions before he ever set out to find the Pantheon. There was one in particular though that set in stone for him what he needed to do in his life. It was one of the before times. He awoke from a slumber in a strange place, with even stranger looking people, those that I cannot explain here for fear that white names be struck down due to them not being seen as worthy yet. Ralf didn't know yet, but he was one of the few warriors left in the small village of Kozara. A man next to him started to speak, telling the men about the coming battle. Ralf began to realize this was the final battle these men would ever fight in. The man spoke of 4 massive titans that would save any future civilization from the wretched horde of the above world for as long as they stayed alive. He continued on, saying that their time was rapidly approaching and that there would be no more a noble sacrifice than to die for not only your country and civilization but for those of the future, those that they would never even see. Another man spoke up saying that their Grandfathers gave their own lives for us, dying bravely to defend the freedom that we had now. Now we are once again back in formation defending the freedom of the future dwellers. Now rallying the other men as he said it, that he was proud to fight with men like the ones in this room, fight for his sacred fatherland of Kozara, and that he would gladly defend it till his last breath if it meant the future dwellers will live for thousands of summers. With this, the men grabbed their Schiavonesca and helmets and began to run towards where the titans were being constructed. Ralf was amazed at the scale of these beings. Clad entirely in armour resembling the knights of old, chests painted with one line of red, blue and white vertically in that order, and each wielding a sword that was not unlike the one in Ralf's hand now. All but one was finished, and they needed to hold off the horde until life could be breathed into it.

The builder said it would be done very soon, and that they needed to protect them until then as they were only builders, not fighters, and that they wouldn't last 5 seconds with one. With that, the two men heard an unholy yell in the distance, signifying the coming horde. The leader of the defenders, Uther The Light Bringer, told the men to stand fast, and not to give in to either the horde or the plague of blood that was starting to course through them all, Ralf included. Uther looked at Ralf, and spoke to him as if he was truly speaking to him, and not the soldier he was on the outside. He told him that this was it, and that this battle would be the last there would ever be, until the future dwellers inevitably follow our doomed footsteps. With that Ralf's suspicions were confirmed. Immediately after this, they saw on the horizon a seemingly endless horde of the most God-Forsaken creatures Ralf had ever seen. Appearing as rotting and hunched humans, eyes white and skin pale. Their claws as long as the dagger he had on his right hip, and their teeth as sharp as his blade. It was now 15 men against all of the above world. The man to the left of Ralf threw up at the sight of the horde, fearing his impending demise. Uther told him to stand fast, and to think of everything behind him and what it stood for. The man seemed to understand, and steeled himself once more. It was then that the first of the horde made it to where they were standing. All of them being chopped down quickly, more and more bodies began to pile in front of the men. It was then, over the horizon they saw something else, a new enemy. This "abomination" stood at nearly a third of the height of a titan, and appeared to be a patchwork of multiple once-living things stitched together into an ungodly amalgamation of meat. It had three arms, two large ones, holding in each a large hammer made of nothing more than two pieces of a tree.

Ralf saw in its third smaller arm though something he had seen before. It was the sickle that sat in front of the building they were at mere minutes ago. He was unsure as to why this was so important, and why it had stayed with him, but he paid no more attention to it. It was at that point 2 of the men were killed, one having a leg snapped in half by one of the ghouls, quickly being torn apart before he even fell, and the other being stabbed through the chest by another ghouls claws. It was at this point they began to be overrun, and began to move backwards slowly towards the titan's construction base. Uther yelled to watch the right side, as a new creature crawled over the top of one of the thatched buildings. Another unholy creation that could only have spawned in the burning hellscape of the above world, it looked much like a mix of both a spider and a scorpion. It shot from its front feelers a sticky grey "web" at three of the men nearest to it. The web burned through their armour, quickly melding it to the clothing underneath it, and eventually to the skin beneath that. One man was quickly stabbed with its long tail spike, another swarmed by the horde, but the last one tried to the best of his ability to get the armour off of himself. It worked, but at this point, he was too far ahead of the other men, and despite both Ralfs and Uthers best attempts, he too was quickly overtaken by the horde. The men at this point realised only 9 men remained, not knowing what happened to the previously sick soldier. The horde was unrelenting, for, with every one ghoul killed, three more took its place. At this point, one of the brave warriors used a nearby brazier that still had a fire blazing within it to light torches. He threw them into the houses they passed, the roofs quickly taking light as the evening began to turn to darkness. The houses proved to be great light sources, and one of them even collapsed forward into the horde, killing hundreds with the blaze alone.

At this point he tried to throw the last lit torch he had into a barn they were passing, but inside something grabbed him along with another warrior that was right beside him. The barn and everything inside quickly went up in flames, incinerating whatever remained of the men and the beast. Down to 6, another man killed by a ghoul when it sprung onto him from the roof a nearby shed, Uther decided they needed to hold this ground for as long as they could, as they were rapidly running out of space to defend, almost nearing the scaffolding built around the last titan. At this point, the abomination was nearing the men, swinging one of the hammers and collapsing what remained of the still-burning barn, killing more ghouls, and creating quite a spectacle as one of the burning ghouls attached itself to its right arm, lighting one of the hammers on fire. It was at this point one of the men tried to run away, despite the rallying attempts of Uther and another one of the men. He was quickly hit by the web of one of the spider-walkers, falling over near a burning pile of rubble. The web quickly was set alight, killing the man rapidly. Ralf took note of this though, and devised a plan rapidly with Uther and the 5 surviving men, to get the web stuck onto the towering behemoth and set light to it. It was a suicide mission, but it had to be done, and Uther said he was the one who was going to go back to the brazier. Ralf said he would help, and they quickly set off, as the other men tried to distract the beast. One of the men was quickly crushed by the flaming hammer, another cut in half with the sickle before Ralf and Uther were halfway to the brazier. The last two men tried to distract it by quickly running behind it, stabbing its massive legs in an attempt to immobilize it for even a moment. They were able to do so, but one was mortally wounded in the attempt, fighting to the death despite it. The last man was picked up by the beast with its now empty hand.

He thought he was going to die, but at this point, Uther and Ralf had come back. At this point they were at the beginning of the scaffolding, the Foremen telling them it was done, and that they needed to push the lever to bring them to life. At this point, he was hit by the abominations sickle, thrown by the beast in an attempt to get Uther off of him. Uther tried to get a spider-walker to hit the beast with web, but was hit with it also. He decided that this was how he was going to go out, and told Ralf and the still surviving soldier that it was an honour serving with them, and lit both him and the abomination on fire in a heroic act. The soldier and Ralf both quickly made their way to where the lever was, darkness now covering what remained of the village, and the sound of the horde and fire was all that accompanied them now. Ralf needed to pull the lever, but it was stuck. They both tried to no effect, and with the horde mere moments away from them, they needed to flip it fast. At this point the fire had spread the scaffolding, causing the previously impaled sickle to fall onto the ground, just out of reach of both the men. At this point the soldier ran, and before Ralf could say anything, he picked it up and threw it towards Ralf, holding the horde off now with only his Dagger. Ralf took the sickle and was able to force the lever forward, causing a deafening mechanical sound, followed by the yells of the last soldier. He was at last overtaken by the horde despite Ralf's best attempts, but then the titans spun to life. Picking up their mighty swords, they quickly killed hundreds of ghouls and abominations alike, clearing entire swaths of the village in single swings. At this point Ralf began to feel the effects of the Plague fully, and sat down next to the shed, feeling fulfilled in his final moments before succumbing to the disease next to his brothers in arms, knowing that their deaths were not in vain and that the future dwellers would be safe from the horde.

The day of February 18th, 2003 started like any other had. The sunrise was a deep orange amongst the white clouds and trees, it contrasted well with the still dark blue sky. Little did the soldiers of Pantheon know, that that would be the last sunrise many of them would ever witness. In particular, a young soldier named Milić Pavlović knew little of what the day would bring him. At 10 AM exactly, he heard the booming sounds of artillery in the distance, followed mere moments later by the dreaded whistling of the shells as they plummeted onto where the men had fortified. The Pantheon War of Independence had been in full swing for almost 4 years at this point, waged against the Eastern Confederation. They were intent on turning Pantheon into a vassal, nothing more than a resource mine to them in their bid to conquer the world. Pantheon as in every past aggression would not yield to their calls of surrender, so they decided to try and take it by force. Pantheon stood fast in their defense, not giving an inch, taking not one step back in their defense. This went on for years until a cease fire was signed on November 11th, 2002 at 11 AM. For a short while, the war seemed distant, almost as if it wasn't happening at all anymore. Little did Pantheon know though, that this was all a facade, a ruse to make them believe the invaders had relented. But on that faithful morning, it would all change. The shells falling all around him now, he jumped up from his cot, rifle in hand to the parapet. He saw through the scope of his rifle something he had never seen before. On the horizon he saw massive metal beasts, clad entirely in metal and with a massive gun in the front, it was truly a sight to behold. He took aim and fired once; he saw the bullet ricochet off of a curved plate on the front. A second and a third quickly followed, unable to make it through the thick plates it bore. They were getting closer and he didn't know what else to do, so he went to find a commanding officer.

He looked around, seeing the other men in the trench firing at the advancing soldiers and tanks to no avail. The armour was too thick, they needed something bigger. He tried to find the commander of the line but to his dismay, he found the command bunker reduced to nothing more than splinters and dirt, everyone inside surely crushed had the shell not killed them. At this point, he realized he was the commander now, even though he only held the rank of knight. At the age of 19, not only did he have an entire trench to command, but behind him was his village of Bikini Dno , and behind that laid Pantheon. He saw at this point a box of 1.59 Inch Vickers Quick Fire shells, beside it was 3 of the Breech Loading guns they belonged to. Thinking quickly, he took them and handed one to each section of his trench. He told them to aim at the small flat plate on the front of the metal beasts, telling them the curved plates would cause any shells to ricochet off of them. He watched as the first group fired at one of what he was now calling "Tanks", on behalf of them being all but immune to his rifle. The first shell missed by mere feet, exploding harmlessly on the ground beside it. He watched through his scope as the tank aimed its front-facing 5.7 cm cannon at them, and then watched as the shell hit squarely in the middle of the front plate. The tank exploded in an awe-inspiring display as the shells inside exploded nearly all at once. It became clear they were destroyable, but at this point they were passing over the base of the hill they were on, firing into the trenches as they passed. He decided the men of this trench would stand as long as they could here, destroying as many as they could before they would retreat to a building called the Keba Kraba, a restaurant that was made of massively thick walls that the men could then defend had they been pushed back far enough. They destroyed seven more of these tanks before they were only hundreds of meters from the trench.

The men at this point, numbering only 17 retreated to the streets behind them, right as the metal goliaths crested the trench line they were just at, peaking and then smashing into where they would have been with a deafening crash. Only 2 guns remained now, one of them destroyed when a Confederation soldier with a feared Wechselapparat made it into the trenches beside the crew and incinerated them. The Confederation soldier was quickly shot in the back and the ensuing explosion destroyed the entire parapet, luckily being stopped by the zig-zag in the trench. They quickly set up the remaining guns at the end of the street along with a Vickers Machine Gun they were able to wrestle from the bodies of its prior crew. They destroyed 3 more tanks, seeing now the Confederations Red Star on their sides as one of them was blown in half by a shell. The tanks and men kept pushing forward though, one throwing a canister containing red smoke at the brave defenders position. They knew this meant one thing and one thing alone; artillery. As soon as they made the realization, they heard the dreaded sounds in the distance of a battery opening up. They knew they had seconds to run, and took no time to do just that, but in the process leaving behind the rest of the Q.F. guns. Retreating to the Keba Kraba, the defenders numbered in the single digits now, many being killed in the ensuing artillery barrage or being gunned down by the still advancing tanks. At this point they hastily made defenses in the windows and doors, holding them in the face of an enemy they had no chance of defeating. They stood for hours there, the tanks of the Confederation not being able to pass the now crumbled and destroyed buildings created from the 24 cm shells they just lobbed into them. It came to a point where there were only 5 men left, Milić and 4 others. They needed to tell the rear command to ready their defenses, but they no longer had a radio. They decided one had to make the run to them.

Milić decided it was his duty to make the run through the now surrounded village and streets. He steeled himself, prayed to his God to protect him, and on the count of 3, dove out of the rear door and began running as quickly as he could. Being covered by the 4 remaining men, he heard the damned rattling of the Confederations machine guns open up on the building, along with one he hadn't heard in hours; the sounds of Q.F. guns. The confederation had taken the two guns they had left behind along with the ammunition still in the trench and had sought to level the building with them. Now a small distance from the building, he heard as the telltale sounds of the defenders SMLE Rifles grew quiet, and a deafening silence filled the air, broken only momentarily by far off guns or artillery. It was at this point, he felt a burning pain stab him in his right shoulder, and he began to see blood trickle down his arm. A Confederation soldier had picked up Milić's scoped SMLE and aimed at him through it, landing a near-fatal shot on him. He was nearing the rear now though, and upon reaching it he spared no time finding the commander, pushing by his aides and guards to tell him what was happening. The commander at first did not believe him, thinking he was deranged by the blood all over his once off-yellow uniform, but then a radioman in the bunker called out and said there were multiple reports of fire across the lines. He shook his head, and ordered a full counter-attack on the previously held positions. He told Milić to leave at once, demanding he is taken out of the bunker when he stood there for a moment in disbelief. Once outside, one of the aides, a general named Petar Bojović thanked him for what he had done, and at that point, Milić passed out from loss of blood. He was taken to an aid tent and stayed there only long enough to have the wound sewn shut, and for enough blood to be given to him for him to stand without passing out again.

Milić's staunch and heroic defense caused the Confederations attack to bog down long enough for the counter-attack to be launched, causing them to be pushed back not only to where the battle had begun, but lead to an entire counteroffensive taking place in where the Serbian National Army along with the Pantheon Volunteer Group pushed all the way to the outskirts of their capital city of Nanking. But before any of this, Milić had returned to the Keba Kraba along with medics to help anyone who may still have been alive, but he knew there was no-one; although he didn't dare say it aloud for fear it may be true. Upon reaching it, he saw what he had only heard mere hours ago. Dozens of dead confederation soldiers, many more than there were before he left. He went inside and saw just how bad it really was. All of his comrades fought bravely to their deaths, protecting him just long enough to make it out nearly unscathed. He asked to himself why he was alive, and why they were instead dead, thinking to himself that he had run instead of fighting, but then a medic told him that he was a hero for running into the enemy to get to command; almost as if he was reading his mind. He said out loud to his men, his brothers in arms, "Spavajte Mirno, Vitezovi" as a tear left his eye. He went to the roof in a bid to find his rifle, but instead found the body of the man who shot him. He looked to see how he had died, but instead of finding bullet holes or holes from shrapnel, upon turning him over, he found in his chest a knife. He recognized it, it was the boot knife of a corporal who had manned the Vickers Machine Gun in the road. He looked around and found his body further away, with a bullet wound to his stomach. The reason Milić was even alive now was because this young soldier had killed the sniper before he was able to take a second shot at him.

He looked through his pockets, hoping to find some kind of identification, but instead found only a photo of a woman, its back reading "Come back safe to me XOXO". Tears began to well in his eyes again, and he thought to himself who the real victors are in war. Pantheons sons and brothers lay around him, lifeless and cold, their mothers weeping for them, and for what? Needless conflict and bloodshed. He closed this nameless soldier's eyes, and returned to the rear, later being sent back home due to his wounds. Upon returning, Ralf had asked personally to see him. He said Pantheon would forever be grateful for the sacrifices you and your men made that day, and that it is Big and Strong now because of them. The names of the Pantheon Defenders will be mentioned forever, the students in school, the birds in the forest, the riverbed and wind; every heart will pray for them. Milić was thankful for Ralf's words but returned home in deep sadness. They would never get any older, but he would. He asked why it was fair, and what God would ever let such cruel things happen. He got no answer in return, but he decided to have a memorial built in the village in their honour years later. Shaped in the form of a spade head atop an SMLE rifle, a plaque stood firmly affixed to its base that was etched with the zig-zags of the trench system that once stood there. On it read this; "Sleep Peacefully, Brave Knights of Pantheon. After the storm will a rainbow appear, beautiful and brave, like you were. The enemy will forever be afraid of your shadows, brave descendants of The 7 Balkan Alliance. Our eternal pride and sorrow, our eternal pride and sorrow." Ralf helped Milić with this piece, sparing no expense in it. The spade head painted orange, reflecting the sunrise of that faithful day, the rifle a deep crimson to reflect the great bloodshed, and the base black to reflect their eternal slumber.

#### Story 11

The Eastern Confederation failed to take into account when invading Pantheon the tenacity of its defenders. In addition to the stalwart defenses of Dno by "Milić's Vitezovi", the brave defenders of both the 16th Pantheon Motorized Brigade and the 5th Kozarska Expeditionary force held Potokzarje Mountain. At nearly the same time as the Confederation's attacks on Dno, they launched another less known attack on Potkozarje Mountain. The mountains near flat tops allowed for the 5th Kozarska Expeditionary Force a perfect vantage point to fire on the invaders. The Confederation knew this, and decided if they wanted any chance of cutting through Dno, the guns on the ridges would have to be silenced. Coming from the Sava River, east of the ridge, they were quickly spotted by the forward observers. At first being frozen from the horror and dread of their newest technology; "Tanks" as they would come to be called, they spared no time, and immediately began radioing the invader's coordinates to the top of the Mountain. In no time, the guns of mount Potkozarje echoed throughout the valley. To the men of the 5th, a new chapter in Pantheon's history was being written with them at the helm. Knowing how important the position was to hold, they called for reinforcements from the nearby 16th Pantheon Motorized Brigade. Knowing that the massive Ordnance BL 12-inch howitzer's couldn't be moved, they decided they would stay and fight to the last in hopes of buying the men in the valley time to be reinforced. The men not needed to fire the guns quickly readied ad hoc defensive positions out of empty shell casings and whatever else they could find. Armed only with their small defensive arms and a few smith guns. The men wearing nothing more then tank tops and pants steeled themselves for the coming battle.

The men knew that the position they held was vital to the region, and that if they lost it and the guns it contained, that Pantheon would have no chance in holding off the invasion force. The spotters continued in spotting for the five QF 18-pounder field guns they had, their high arcs of fire allowing for their heavy shells to plunge through the top armour of the advancing Confederation tanks. The guns were effective at this, taking out many of the tanks while they slowly waded through the river; the exploding ammunition inside of the machines sending shrapnel in all directions around them, killing anyone who was unfortunate enough to stand near them. At this point, the tanks had made it to where the forward observers were hidden. Armed with nothing but their binoculars, radio and pistols, they made a valiant last stand against the invaders, taking with them as many as they had bullets. With the observers gone, the 18 pounder guns had no way of firing at the tanks anymore, and aimed the guns forward in a direct fire role towards where the invaders would come from. A silence broken only by the 12 Inch Howitzers fell upon the ridge and valley below. Minutes later, the defenders heard above them the coughing and sputtering of a plane. With its distinctive twin wing configuration and bright red stars painted beneath them, the plane could only be one of the confederations. A few minutes later, the men heard from the foot of the mountain the tell tale boom of artillery. The confederation had begun to shell the summit with their Mountain Guns. The men knew that if they wanted any fair chance at holding the invaders back, they needed to take down the plane. There was a 20mm Polsten gun near the far side of the ridge, but it had not been used in almost 6 months. Three men volunteered to get to it and try to operate it, as it was their only hope in taking down the plane.

The three men upon hearing a lull in the firing, began sprinting as fast as they could towards the cannon. At this time, the guns on the foot of the mountain began firing again too, and one of the men was eviscerated as a shell landed mere feet from him. The two men, running at almost inhuman speeds, made it to the gun as the area behind them became a hellscape of shrapnel and amatol. The gun appeared to be in fine shape, but they found it only had 1 box of ammunition in its ready rack. The men, knowing this was all they would have, knew they had to make every round count. The second man quickly began rotating the gun to where the plane was, and began leading the slow bi-plane. The gunner firing in quick bursts in a bid to conserve what little ammo it had, had no luck hitting it. Knowing he only had one burst worth of ammo left, he prayed the rounds would connect. He fired, and immediately the plane was engulfed in a massive orange fireball, and seconds later it disintegrated into nothing more then burning canvas and plywood. The guns near the bottom of the mountain slowed their firing, slowly becoming quiet. The defenders quickly took back up their positions, now having many craters to lay in to better defend themselves. At this point the Confederation launched its first of many attacks on the summit. They sent only men at first, thinking the heavy shelling had done much damage to the defenders ranks. They were shocked at the tenacity of the defenders, and sent even more men into the fray towards them. Resorting to human wave tactics, the Confederation had begun to feel the damage the Howitzers were dishing out in the valley, and needed the guns silenced at once if they had any hope of continuing the offensive. At this point, the 16th Pantheon Motorized Brigade weren't that far away, but it meant little if the summit was lost before they could arrive.

Dread began to grip the men, desperation filled them. Their burning wounds bled as the sky began to weep for them. The familiar silence had once more fallen upon the mountain. Only 3 hours had passed, but to them it had felt like days. They numbered only a handful now, sitting next to the bodies of their comrades, their brothers in arms; they knew their enemies were waiting for the right moment to strike at them like hungry wolves. The cool spring rain gave little solace to the men, the cries of the wounded slowly dying out as the shell holes filled with water. The anticipation was killing them, knowing that at any second they too could end up like them. Little did they know, the 16th Pantheon Brigade wasn't going to make it to them that day, as they had been redirected to counter attack in the city of Dno, relieving a certain Commander Milić who had defended the city to his last. Upon hearing the news, their hearts sank. Tears filled the eyes of some, for others they began to make peace with the fact they too would become another nameless body, known only unto Pantheon. They waited for the final attack, the attack that would finish them off once and for all, but it never came. The Confederation decided that they needed a new plan on how to take the summit, and took the rest of the day to devise it. The night was very cold, not helped by the rain that had continued to pour well into the morning hours. Soldiers on both sides were forced to make shelters from the bodies of the dead to protect themselves from freezing to death. Moral was low, but the men knew they had to fight to the death, for if they were to be captured by the Confederation, they would be forced to march all the way to the Prisoner of War camps in Nanking on foot; a fate worse then even the slowest death could bring. Men on both sides had nightmares about what would happen the following day.

Sometime in the night, the rain had ceased, perhaps a sign of what the day would bring. The men manned their defenses once more, down to only two 18-pounder guns from the original five, and now only having one Bren gun; it looked quite bleak for the men. Finally, at roughly 10 AM, they heard in the distance the low grumble of something mechanical. The Confederation had decided an entire change of tactics was in need, and so went from human wave tactics to Combined Arms tactics. Tanks and men alike were ascending the mountain, out manning the defenders nearly seven to one. In the night, the defenders had, with immense trouble, turned one of the Howitzers towards where they would be attacked from. In the direct fire role, the shell it fired would turn anything it hit into nothing more than atoms. The mechanical grating was quickly becoming a loud grinding as the tracks of the tanks tore rock and vegetation alike from the sides of the path. On the horizon, the tops of tanks could be seen, and their accompanying infantry. At this point, the Howitzer fired a round at one of the leading tanks, tearing it in two as it fell off the side of the mountain. The defenders opened fire, tearing down anyone who was foolhardy enough not to take cover behind the metal beasts. The tanks continued their advance, the 18-pounder guns firing at them, taking out as many as they could. It was then, the defenders heard from behind them the sounds of engines. At last, the 16th Pantheon Motorized Brigade had come to their rescue! The men were steeled by this, and with the howitzer firing another shell into the oncoming invaders, the men charged into the oncoming army. Bayonets fixed, the men now bolstered by the Armoured Cars and Anti-Tank Trucks of the 16th, were able to push into the now routed Confederation army straight down to the river Sava. Sparing no-one, the men of 5th Kozarska Brigade had made a name for themselves.

Upon pushing the Confederation back across the Sava, the men didn't stop. Reinforced by the 16th Brigade, their morale was steeled and at the highest it had ever been. Knowing the initiative was with them now, they began an entire maneuver around the back of Army Group Center; cutting them off from any reinforcement. They along with the 16th Brigade and Pantheons Krajišnici, were able to attack from both sides, in the process devastating the group. In the end, the attack was halted as army group center was destroyed, any survivors being taken as Prisoners of War. This was not without a cost though. The 5th Kozarska Expeditionary Force was almost entirely annihilated in the opening hours, along with heavy casualties in the Motorized Brigade. This would hinder their ability to follow the now retreating army, which would allow the Confederation to rally its men once more and create an entire defensive line further East which would prove to be costly later in the counteroffensive. Their bravery in holding Gora Potkozarje would not go unnoticed though, as Ralf himself went to the frontline and personally awarded each and every man still remaining the "Medal of Smiley Freedom", an award awarded only nineteen times before this. Ralf told them all how without them, Pantheon would not have had a chance. Ralf had seen to it personally that each man killed in the battle had their families taken care of. The women and children of Pantheon wept tears of happiness as they welcomed home the flock of wounded and exhausted men. They were welcomed with open arms as guardians; real heroes who had arrived to save children and their crying mothers.

#### Story 12

The final battles in the Pantheon War of Independence were the Siege of Peking, and what would become known as "The Race to the Yangtze." Starting only two days after the Battle of Mount Potkozarje and the Confederations crushing defeat at the hand of both the 5th Kozarska Brigada and the 16th Pantheon Motorized Brigade, Pantheons rush to the Yangtze river was only possible due to the rapid mobilization of local Militias, ready to fight to the death against the marauding bands of Chinese invaders. Crossing the Sava, the 16th Motorized Brigade was met at first with virtually non-existent resistance. It was only when they neared the city of Nanking that they began to meet stalwart and admirable defense. Bunkers, vast trenches reinforced with concrete and steel, the Pantheon counter-offensive quickly bogged down in the spring mud. Reaching a stalemate once more, Pantheon's Royal Engineers took no rest in building defensible areas across what would become known now as the "Cortes Line." Subject to massive attacks by the Fanatic Confederation warriors, the men of Pantheon received little quarter in the first few months. Once again, desperation began to fill the men, just as the trenches filled with rats and mud. On both sides, desertion became common. Now in the month of May, the defensive lines on both sides had become quite venerable. The men of the Confederation knew that just behind them lay one of the Logistical centers of their Empire. If they lost it, much of the south and parts of the north would be cut off until it could be recaptured. They knew they had little chance of successfully staging a counter-attack against a dug-in opponent, and so were willing to defend the city with their lives. As for the men of Pantheon, they knew if they didn't hold their own line, a route directly to the heart of Pantheon would be opened through the Sava River.

They knew that the Confederation spared no one and that if they were to make it to the major cities just behind them, that the women and children living there would be massacred. May 5th would come, and, with it, an offensive seen only once before at the Battle of Bikini Dno. The soldiers of Pantheon knew little of what the day would bring, but at 8 AM exactly, they heard the drone of something above them in the distance. The shapes were unmistakable, planes. The familiar single engined spotter bi-planes of the confederation slowly made their way towards the lines of Pantheon. With only three 40mm Bofors guns behind them, the men took aim with their own guns and began firing at the planes themselves in a bid to damage important structures inside the planes. It was then they realized these planes were doing something they had never done before; instead of climbing, they began diving steeply towards the trench lines. Just as the Bofors guns began to sight them and fire, so did the Confederation planes. Four light machine guns each, all 10 of the planes began firing directly into the trenches and at the Anti-Aircraft emplacements. Killing many men in the first run, and killing the crews of two of the guns, they began to ascend again, lining themselves up for another run into the lines. Just then, when the soldier's morale was almost broken; they saw behind them their own planes. Quickly diving onto the now energy-bled bi-planes, they watched as planes shredded the canvas and plywood of the bi-planes. Pantheon's own planes were now there to defend the men. Massive, single-engined mono-planes, they were painted a bright combination of teal, light greens, and blues; a stark contrast to the Confederations white camouflage. Their massive air intakes adorned with the faces of sharks, they were truly a sight to behold for the sore eyes and broken moral of the men in the trenches. Cheering them on as they made quick work of the planes, something sinister rose over the horizon.

In the clouds high above them, were double engined planes. Their aluminum skins shimmering brightly in the spring sun, they looked superior in every aspect to Pantheon's Tempests. As quickly as they saw them, they began to ascend towards them, slowly gaining altitude at the cost of precious speed. The Confederation pilots saw this, and they themselves quickly rose too. Knowing that they were outmatched, both in numbers and in technology, they quickly needed to make a decision of what to do. Knowing there was one Anti-Aircraft gun left, the three pilots decided to lure the planes down into range of it. Aiming their noses down in an almost straight line towards the ground, they quickly leveled out over no mans land. It was then, the burning wreckages beneath them turned into a full-fledged forest fire. The battlefield quickly turned into a hellscape, as if hell itself had opened and swallowed the men on both sides. Quickly engulfing the forest, the sky went from a bright blue with almost no clouds, to a dark black and red from the now endless smoke. Taking advantage of this, the Confederation artillery began firing on the last co-ordinates given by the spotter planes. While not all too accurate, it was enough to collapse some sections of the Firing Line. The double engined planes, still glowing from the reflections of the fires, quickly neared the Tempests now. Their plan now virtually impossible due to the thick smoke, they needed to think quickly. Agreeing to try and lose them in this same smoke, all three planes went in different directions. The five trailing Pe-2 fighter planes quickly lost them, and with the Tempest's vastly increased visibility due to the new "bubble" type canopy, they were easily able to find the planes and slowly pick them off. With the final plane in his sights, the flight captain, a member of the Pantheon Volunteer Airgroup, was struck by the rear gunner of the Pe-2, quickly descending and crashing into the hellfire beneath him.

The Pe-2, already damaged from the embers that had begun to burn through its epoxy glued plywood wings, it too followed suit shortly after, but not before dropping its bombs over a stretch of communications trench. Although the counteroffensive the Confederation had planned to do that day had to be postponed, the brave defenders of Pantheon were now left completely cut off from high command, and from any reinforcements they would otherwise be able to call in. The fires would continue to rage for days, and would only go out in a rainstorm some days later.

The final lore of the before times besides the final battle is that of King Solomon. Met with an assassin, the king asked the man what he really sought. Was it power he sought? No, he was not there for that reason. He was but a slave to his masters. He called him out, telling him the slave obeys, but the man chooses. The words cut deeply into the man. The king decides then he will prove whether or not the man was a slave or a man, and so, takes his Kilij and gives it to the man. Repeating again, "The slave obeys, the man acts," the blade is plunged directly into the side of the King. The king now laying dead at his feet, he quickly makes his escape. Fleeing to mount smiley, he leaves behind his former career and places the now powerful knife onto an alter inside of the mount. Ralf will eventually pick up the blade, although it is unknown as of now what happens to it in the long history.

Another story from before Ralfs ascent of pantheon is the Story of the Defense of Smoluca. Happening in late Rasmotag, several bands of Bosanski bandits, would set fire to the great catherdral held withing the historic center of the ancient village of Tinija. Quickly becoming a genocide, the attackers besieged the city of Smoluca and Tinija 80 long days. The Serbian defenders took up their swords in a bid to stave off the attacks, but it was of little avail. That was until the month of August; when the newly created Garda Panteri would push the attacks as far back as the ancient Romanija Mountain Range. This victory was hard fought, and ended with 149,00 casualties.

Now, back to the Ralf era; Ralf met a man named the Oracle, who helped enlighten Ralf of the mistakes of the past. He told Ralf the Story of the Knights who bravely defended the construction sight of the massive mechanical knights of pantheon. Telling how they stood fast, this was before Ralfs own vision of the last stand. He gave Ralf a torn piece of the "7 Balkan Alliance" flag, which Ralf would eventually incorporate into his coronation robes.

Next was the oracle telling Ralf about how grand a scale the plague of blood was. Ralf at first didn't comprehend it, not understanding him and even ridiculing him over it. But it was only when the Oracle forced him to see it, did Ralf truly understand it. Ralf watched the entire invasion, although it was a mere overview of it. He watched in particular the 4 stages of destruction, War, pestilence, death and famine.

#### Story 13

Now, getting to the common era as its come to be known, tensions between Pantheon and the Eastern Confederation had reached an all time high

The invasion of Pantheon by the Eastern Confederation had started months earlier, although a cease fire was written on November 11th, 2002. The confederation would break this ceasefire on Feruary 18th 2003. Attacking through Kozaro Valley, they intended to destroy or capture both Bikini Dno and Mount Potkozarje. A young defender named Milic would lead the defenses of what would eventually become MIlics line, being pushed back all the way to the restaurant of Keba Kraba. The defenders valiantly held this position from the confederations newest vehicles; entitled "Tanks" by Milic, in reference to their massive shape and armour that was able to stop even his Scoped SMLE Rifle. Mounted with a 5.7 cm Cannon in the front, and with 35 mm of armour at their weakest point, they were truly a sight to behold. It was only after finding three 1.59 Inch Vickers Quick Fire O.F. Rocket Guns was he able to do any damage to the thick hides of the armoured beasts. Alas, it was for nothing, as they were vastly outnumbered. Being pushed from the trench system to the streets behind it, they were eventually bombarded by 10.5 cm field howitzers that were rapidly brought up from the Confederations rear in a bid to destroy any set defenses by Pantheon. Being pushed all the way back to Keba, and with no way to contact the rear, it was decided Milic would make the mad dash himself. The defenders drew the fire from him for awhile, until they too fell silent. He thought he was in the clear by that point when a shot rang out behind him, and, quickly followed by a stinging pain in his right shoulder; he realised he had been shot. A sniper, using Milics very own scoped SMLE rifle had only barely missed him.

Barely making it to the rear, and with a now dripping wound upon him, he told the commander of the attacks, but he did not believe him at first. Thinking he was deranged or suffering War Neurosis, he called for him to be removed at once. It was at that point the switch boards had lit up, all of the forward observers reporting an invasion. He left the command tent, and was met by a General Aide named Petar Bojovic, who thanked him for what he had done, but at this point the blood loss was too much. He collapsed and was taken to a rear hospital.

Upon waking, it was many hours later. He demanded to be taken to the front to fight once more, not knowing that units of the 16th Pantheon Motorized Brigada, along with the elite unit "Pantheons Krajišnici," the confederations attacks were blunted, and they began to be routed across the Sava River. He returned to the Keba Kraba, where the men had made their most stalwart defense, to find that all of his men had given their lives in defense of him. He looked for his coveted rifle, and, not finding it where he had thrown it, looked further. Upon reaching the top floor, he saw an enemy soldier camouflaged with pine needles and a counter scheme; he knew this was the sniper that had almost killed him hours before. His rifle, Milics SMLE, was mere feet from him, and upon turning him over, he found a knife plunged deep into his chest, with signs of a heavy struggle taking place. Looking around, he found a dead soldier sitting in the corner of the building, Borchardt C-93 still in hand. He searched the soldier, looking for any identification of the man who saved his life, but found only a photo of his presumed lover, on the back a short writing saying "Come back safe to me." Milic became extremely disheartened, as tears began to well in his eyes. He closed his brother in arms eyes, and returned to the first floor to help remove the bodies of his brothers. Sent home due to his wounds, Ralf would meet with him and thank him personally for his sacrifices. Ralf would personally fund a memorial for the men; a red SMLE rifle topped with an orange spade head firmly attached to a black base etched with the original trench system that once stood there.

Second to last lore as of now was the defense of Mount Potkozarje. The men on the ridge; The 5th Kozarska Expeditionary Force; held out for almost 2 days from direct assaults on their weakly defended positions. The men, armed only with 18 Pounder Artillery guns and the much larger BL 12- Inch howitzer, were ill equipped to fight the invasion force crossing the Sava towards their positions. Forward spotters spared no time in calling to the top of the strategic ridge the coordinates of enemy tanks to the crews of the 18 Pounder guns. The guns, with their incredibly high arcs of fire were able to shred through the top armour of the Confederations Tanks. Alas, the spotters themselves would eventually be overwhelmed and killed by the Confederation, leaving the guns blind. With that, the men on the ridge began to make ad hoc defensive positions, reinforced with spent shells from the massive howitzers and spare parts for them. They steeled themselves for the coming attack.

The battlefield fell silent except for the slow firing 12 inch howitzers, which broke the silence every few minutes firing on the valley below, the sound echoing in the valley below. Finally, in the distance they saw a spotter plane from the Confederations Air Force. A slow Polikarpov I-153 "Chaika" flew overhead; its bright white paint and red stars beneath the wings contrasting against the blue sky. Not soon after, the Confederations mountain guns began shelling the summit. The men of the 5th Kozarska knew they wouldn't last long under the heavy shelling, and realized they needed to destroy the plane. Realizing there was a 20mm polsten gun on the other side of the ridge, three men volunteered to man it. Running towards it during a lull in the firing, it quickly ramped up again. One man was hit directly by a shell, being turned into nothing more then a red mist. The other men made it to the gun, but to their horror it had only one box of ammunition. Knowing how important it was to make the shells connect with the slow plane, the gunner took aim. At first he missed, but upon the last of his belt, he hit the plane, which quickly exploded in mid air and disintegrated before it even hit the ground of the summit below.

The men defended the mountain for almost 2 days before the rerouted 16th Pantheon Motorized Brigade came to rescue them. This was not before the morning of February 19th, when the Confederation began an all out attack on the ridge with tanks and infantry alike. The previous nights rain made the terrain very muddy, which hindered the tanks very much. In the night, the defenders turned one of the 12 Inch guns towards the Koridor the Confederation would attack from, and waited for the first tank they saw. Upon the first one cresting the hill, the howitzer fired. The tank was tore in two and thrown clear off the hill, with any infantry unfortunate enough to be near it being vaporized by the nearly 100 pounds of explosive filler it contained. Nearly over run, the men heard behind them the sounds of engines. They had been saved! Fixing their own bayonets, the remaining men of the 5th Kozarska, along with the Armoured Cars and Anti-Emplacement Trucks of the 16th were able to push the invaders all the way back across the Sava, all the while flanking behind the invaders in the valley; cutting them off from reinforcements. The entire battle group center was destroyed with thousands of prisoners being taken. This was not without a cost, as the 5th was almost entirely annihilated, along with very heavy casualties within the 16th Motorized Brigade.

Eventually the Pantheon Volunteer Group and the Krajina National Army would push across the river Sava in a bid to push all the way into the heart of the Confederation, but became bogged down in the Battle for Nanking weeks later.

#### Story 14

While the brave pilots of the Royal Pantheon Volunteer Group defended the men below with their mighty Tempests, another skirmish would be fought. The small village of Brcko; containing nothing more then a few wooden huts and a trade post, became a battlefield in itself. It was around '7 AM on the 22nd; only a day after the Battle of Cote 364, when Filipovic Brano awoke to the sounds of distant artillery fire. Very soon after that, he heard the dreaded whistling of the shells as they fell around the ad hoc barracks. Following behind the barrage was one of the Confederations most elite brigades; the 27th "Silver Eagle" Brigade. These men were hand picked by the Confederations Prime Minister; Creamer, and were ready to fight to their deaths if need be. Brano, quickly going to the defensive line with the other men of the 11th Gavrina Brigada, saw that the sky was on fire above him. The Chetniks steeled themselves, knowing they were surrounded and out numbered, they were determined to hold the cross roads of Brcko even if it meant death. Seeing the enemy soldiers emerging through the dust and dirt that was now airborne from the 32 pound shells, Brano manned the machine gun nest, along with one other man. Reinforced with steel boiler plates all around them, the nest was truly a fortress. In it was a Hotchkiss "Benet-Mercie" machine gun; one of the lend lease guns sent from the Kingdom of Romania. Fed from a belt, this gun would make all but the fool hardy take cover. The 27th Brigade was well equipped, with weapons from the Peking Arsenal, and were supported by an entire motorized division comprised of half tracks mounted with 37 mm guns. The Confederation struck hard, in the first hour almost over taking the shocked defenders. With heavy casualties on both sides in this opening clash, moral began to sink rapidly on both sides as the day drew on. By noon that day, something had changed.

The Confederation stopped their attack for now, but why? Brano became very scared at the thought of some terrible new contraption arriving at the front. The sky at this point was still a charred red, but over head the sounds of planes could be heard, along with the intermittent artillery fire from Mount Potkozarje. The men couldn't see past the smoke above them, but they did see the more unfortunate planes fall from the sky as nothing more then a ball of flames. At the same time as this, something appeared in the distance, something they had never seen before. It was an armoured beast; with four 77 mm guns and 7 machine guns, this mobile fortress proved to be a killing machine. It stopped just at the end of main street and began suppressing the defensive line.

The tank at the end of the road was very effective in supressing the men in their defensive lines. With no ordinance available to destroy such a tank, they were forced to take cover and, in turn offered minimal fire against the rapidly approaching infantry units. At this point, Brano heard the sound of a vehicle approaching his own defensive position. At first he weighed his options; if he were to make his presence known before identifying whether it was a tank or a halftrack, it would be the end of his story. On the other hand, the vehicle on the other side of the wall could be a light skinned vehicle, which could help them take back the street if they could capture it. Deducing that it was likely a half track in the fact that his position hadn't been crushed yet, he along with another soldier decided that now was a perfect time to strike, as it hadn't yet recognized they were still alive. Grabbing his Benet-Mercie, he and the other man were going to push down the wall beside them and fire at the vehicle. On three, they did so, and, upon pushing it over, began firing at it almost immediately. They were right in their assumption of it being a halftrack, and the .303 rounds it fired ripped through the cabin of the vehicle, passing right through the driver and straight through the gunner. Realizing it was a halftrack armed with the 37 mm cannon, they took no time in commandeering the vehicle themselves. Brano manned the gun, and the other soldier began driving the vehicle to the end of the street so it could fire upon the "K Wagen." It was called this as the radio antenna looked like an inverted K on its top. Making it to the end of the street with little resistance in between, Brano took aim at the massive vehicle. His first shot was a hit, destroying a sponson on the vehicles right side. The tank took notice, along with the infantry near it, and began firing a hailstorm of bullets towards the light skin of the half track.

The bullets again quickly began ripping through what remained of any armour on the half track, but it didn't stop Brano from his mission. A second shot rapidly followed the first, this one ricocheting off the armour and hitting a building beside the tank. At this point, the driver of the half track was killed by a stray bullet from one of the tanks machine guns, meaning Brano was all alone now in his task. He fired one more shell, this one going straight through the barrel of one of the 77 mm guns, rendering it inoperable. The tank levels its guns towards the half track, and Brano knew he had to jump now or else become vaporized by the low velocity guns the tank had. The tank fired just as Brano jumped out and into a building next to the vehicle. The half track was completely destroyed, the cab and gun it once contained being strewn across the street behind him. At this point though, a Royal Pantheon Sniper made himself known to Brano. He showed him that he was wounded; a shell fragment form the earlier bombardment had torn through his leg, crippling him. He told Brano that he had a flare that would allow for the BL 12 Inch Howitzers atop Mount Potkozarje to range down onto the crossroads. The only problem was that he had to get into throwing distance of the tank. The sniper told him there was a cellar that was attached to a building that was near to the tank, and that it would be the safest option. At this point the sky had cleared substantially as the wind had begun blowing in another direction, away from this battlefield. Leaving the building to enter the cellar, Brano looked up into the sky and saw the battle that was happening just above his own. Pantheon Tempests fought against the I-153 light attack planes in a graceful, almost beautiful display of individual talents. Brano watched for a second, sheltered for now just inside the cellar entrance, as a tempest began firing its four 20 mm Hispano guns at an I-153, ripping one of its wing tips off.

The plane went into a wide spin towards the ground, and Brano realized that it was coming directly at the building and him. He quickly dove into the cellar and ran as quickly as he could deeper into it in an attempt to escape the plane. Behind him he heard a thunderous explosion, and heard the building collapse just above him. He knew now that there was only one way out of the cellar, and that was the building nearest to the enemy. He began the short trek through the cellar stopping only momentarily when he thought he heard enemy soldiers. Upon reaching the top, he heard the steady hammering sound of what he could only assume to be a machine gun. Brano tried his best to stay quiet, and, taking the flare out of his bag, he went to light it. Just as he moved to rip the flare plate, he was hit in the back by a confederation soldier. It quickly became a hand to hand fight, with Brano being overpowered at one point only to push back and overpower the enemy once more. This went on for over a minute, until the enemy soldier let up slightly in an attempt to grab his knife. This allowed Brano to push him down, but not before being shot in the left side by him. Brano took his own knife and quickly leapt on top of the Confederation soldier, plunging his knife into his chest. A quick end for the soldier, Brano too was dying. He was bleeding badly, and was beginning to suffer from the blood loss. He once more took the flare, and upon lighting it, threw it directly onto the tank. Within the next minute or so, Brano collapsed into the corner of the partially collapsed building. He knew he wouldn't be able to escape the 750 pound high explosive shells, and so made peace with the fact that this was how it would end for him. He heard the guns firing in the distance, and closed his eyes. The shells landed right where he intended them to, and the entire end of the cross roads were leveled in the process.

The tank was destroyed, but it was still in relatively good condition; the men inside killed by the immense shock waves sent from the shell explosions around them. The Confederations attack was quickly stalled as most of the 27th "Silver Eagle" Brigade was also killed in the barrage. The defenders of Brcko, calling themselves "Chetniks," after the ancient defenders of Pantheon during the Final Hour, quickly pushed the Confederation back, opening a route into Nanking through the now broken Governmental Defense Line. The defenders began looking for Brano. The brave boy who went to the front to defend his mother from the Confederation. They found nothing but his helmet, warped by the force of the massive artillery shells. The next morning, around 7 AM, sobbing tears came from Branos mother. That's how Brano, one of Pantheons sons, died for their freedom. Ralf personally went to the ceremony, and gave his own speech about the defense of Brcko. He said this; " Sleep well sons of Pantheon, Sleep Well. We will avenge you, our guardians, we give you our undying thanks. Sleep well sons, and long live your pride." The battle was one of the shortest of the war, but had one of the highest casualty rates of it. The technology gained from what remained of the tank would go into one of Pantheons most well guarded secret weapons to date.

On the eve of the 29th of March, in a last ditch offensive against the Confederations army massed itself roughly 7 miles from the small village of Bihac. Knowing the line was poorly defended here by the soldiers of the 7th Pantheon Defender Regiment, they knew if they could only make a small corridor through the defenders, they would be able to take full advantage of it with their new "Fast" tanks. Boasting a considerable amount of technological advancements over the earlier and much heavier K-Wagen that was created in 2001, these new tanks were mounted with 20mm cannons and had a speed of 19 miles per hour. Pantheon, completely blind to the attack as their own spotting planes were grounded from the spring rains, were unable to mass their own defenses. We follow the story of Chou Ming Shan, a tank commander in the "Dì 200 Shī" who was at the helm of his own "Neubaufahrzeug," steeled himself and his crew for the coming battle. On the following morning, the battle commenced. This time, the Confederation has changed its tactics once more, this time using "Terror Tactics" in a bid to route the poorly trained and poorly led 7th Defender Regiment. The confederation, taking full advantage of the lack of Pantheon air superiority, were able to use their own I-153 biplanes in very low altitude attacks on the defensive line in the village. Not only strafing the trench lines, but in the process dropping propaganda leaflets telling the men if they were captured, they would be repatriated to the labour camps of the far east regions. The men on the ground became incredibly demoralized at the thought of this, but were forced to stay, as the officers of this poorly led group would shoot them if they took even one step back. Following these raids, the Confederation followed with a creeping barrage, behind it, the most elite soldiers they had. Armed with nothing but bladed and blunt weapons, and many grenades, these trench raiders were tasked with taking out sentries and line guards.

These men were incredibly effective at what they were tasked to do, with 2 groups of the men destroying both the radar tower of Bihac, and the Defenders radio room with bunched grenade charges. Bihac now being both blind and unable to call for support, was in quite a bad place. The attack commenced, and we now return to the old tank commander, Chou Ming Shan. Chou was by no means green, having fought in the earlier conquests of the Confederation. He was one of the men that lead the charge into the Romanija mountain range during the First Pantheon War of Independence, and was blinded in his right eye during the ill fated battle. Having been promoted to the rank of "Si ji jun shi zhang," for his valiant service in the war, he was offered the chance to command the new metal behemoths of the Confederation. He agreed, and in a short time, he became one of the leading Tank Aces, his name alone putting fear into the enemies of the Confederation, and brining relief to those on his own side. Waiting for the ready signal from his superiors, he and his men bided their time, reminiscing over previous battles, and making sure both guns were ready to be fired at a moments notice once they entered the fray.

(To be continued)

# **Book 2 : The Great Crusade**

Story 1

In the before times; political and economical strife ran rampant after the Last Great Crusade. Ralf's great vision for the people of Pantheon became marred by the greed of mankind. Various groups who's names have been lost to the sands of time fought vicious battles against their countrymen; only for their new ruling class to be toppled before the declaration of states ink had even dried. Growing tired of the needless bloodshed; one group rose far beyond the rest of the squabbling peasants. The group; going by the name of 'Dragoons of the Ralf Table' or known better as the 'Revolutionaries of the Free State of Pantheon' began a campaign to gain public interest in their cause. Instead of razing cities and executing any who dared to oppose their ideals; they quickly gained the backing of the working and fighting classes of Pantheon. Following the failure of the First Republic and the "Reign of Terror," the people of Pantheon once again took up arms against those who deemed themselves the "Great Emancipators," although to the common folk they were instead mockingly called the "Great Dictators." Led by the enigmatic 'Great son of Ralf,' he initially led a small group of Clerics to neighboring towns, villages and tributaries; quickly gaining many supporters in his march to the Capital City of the First Panthenian Republic; the Great City of Darlaran. In the early hours of the next day; the Son of Ralf sent an emissary far ahead to Darlaran to inform the government of his demands. He never returned to the assembling revolutionaries. Several days passed; the group growing from only a few hundred to over 17,000 strong. They gained access to several armories and supply depots as the 1st Army of The East capitulated and defected to the side of the Revolutionaries; adding much needed experience and arms to the now far reaching revolution. The first violent action that occurred was when the Army of the 2nd Defenders of the Republic stood their ground against the militant group at the First Battle of Ypres; also known as the 'Last Gentleman's War.' Unlike other battles fought using line tactics and with an emphasis on honour; this battle was fought using guerilla tactics and Ruse de guerre; initially leading the 2nd Defenders to be taken advantage of when they thought the Dragoons of Ralf were the 89th Isle Battalion; a battalion that had been called back to Darlaran at the Emancipators urgent request. Having the advantage over them; in a matter of minutes the attackers were routed. The victory was mighty and had immense propaganda value; as this was the first battle that was lost by the Crown since before the First Republic.

Following this great victory; the revolution had reached the farthest reaches of the Pantheon. People from all over the land sought to join the Dragoons; now formally called the 'Grand Army of the Free State of Pantheon' as to better allude to their cause. They marched towards the seat of the Crown; the great fortress of Darlaran; also known to those imprisoned within as the iron tower; in reference to the massive entrance covered by a 35 foot tall set of Iron doors. Many battles were fought as they neared the largest and most revered city in all of Pantheon; the ferocity with which the Crowns Armies fought becoming more tenacious with every passing day. Armies were recalled from all of Pantheons Great Protectorates; but it was a war that had only one ending written for it. The Grand Army finally reached the mighty walls of the great city on the 14th of July; the uniforms and flags of both sides stained in the blood of friend and foe alike; the background was set as if hell itself had come to consume the land. Buildings burned; bodies bled; the black smoke blotted out the sun as if by the very action of war had extinguished it. The Son of Ralf rallied the people of Pantheon one last time; assuring that this war would end today; that the bloodshed of failed republics would never flow again; and that everyone imprisoned within the great iron tower would be released. The crowd roared as their morale reached heights that had not been seen since the end of the Great Crusade. On one side of the City was the Grand Army; and on the other; the Partisan group led by The Far Seer Michael LeBlanc. The defenders knew they had no escape; and were ready to fight to the death in defense of the Crown. The siege began as the Grand Armies mighty steam engines lobbed massive exploding shells at the mighty walls of the city; destroying entire towers and bringing down the palisades that protected the defenders. The defenders didn't fight without their own innovations of war; they threw massive balls containing liquid fire onto the heads of the attackers; killing many before they were able to make it to the walls. But it was a losing battle; as the towers fell; the great wall that defended the city since before even the Great Crusade crumbled; nothing more then a mere nuisance to clamber over as the Militia, Partisans and Soldiers of the Revolution charged towards the Tower. Those sympathetic to the Revolution in the city; clerics, apothecarists and prophets had already stormed the bell towers of the churches; their bells ringing throughout the city as if signaling the end of this failed Republic. Windows shattered as the fighting turned to clashes within the streets between countrymen that only months before had called each other brothers. Finally; as mid day fell upon Pantheon; the fighting was at the step of the Great Tower of Darlaran. The Partisans and Ralf's army alike were ready to storm what was once the symbol of a mighty nation; relegated now as the symbol of tyranny. The mighty doors stood no match for the steam engines; the doors blown open by the force of a thousand suns. The garrison within stood little chance against the entire nations worth of men; and by 5:30 PM; 99 of the towers defenders lay dead and dying; the three officers within stabbed repeatedly to death with bayonets; their heads taken and put on pikes which were paraded around the outside of the tower as a sign of victory. The Crown was informed of the events; and upon hearing the news asked; "Is it a revolt?" to which the reply was; "No sire, it's not a revolt; it's a revolution."

## Jew Jewterstein's 11/11 Reading

This day, the 11th day of the 11th month, is one where we recognize not only those who have served in the armed forces, but we also remember those who have made the ultimate sacrifice for their country, whichever it may be. Be it a war from a long since forgotten era, or a more recent one, such as the first world war or the second, we here in the Free Smiley Pantheon will be forever grateful for their sacrifice, as without them, not only would we not have Free-Smileys to meme about, but some of us may not even be here today.

```
A note from the editor; I would like to extend my most heartfelt thanks to everybody who has contributed ideas and suggestions to the lore, along with those who have archived pieces that would otherwise be lost to time. Thank you for your undying support!

```