Sir_Braazmiir
Tiefling Paladin
- Location
- Wherever I am
Iowa launched her Vought OS2U Kingfisher spotter aircraft with orders to record everything the guy in the cowboy hat said.
We Are All Volunteers: A Military-Themed Multi-Fandom Crossover RP
- Thread starter Inter-VersaLoli
- Start date
- IC
- Location
- England
"Running." The single word came out partially clear over the sound of shouted songs of various qualities, before the Sheriff went back to focusing on his formation movement and looking like he could potentially be singing. Again, it was impossible to tell, due to lack of visible mouth-parts.
Overheat Function is a way to measure how likely extra-dimensional interference is likely to mess with a timeline and cause bad stuff, with the Parameters (Ordinal, Chronology) being how close a timeline is to the "meta" information being given in events and the Chronology being how close it is in time, further away being a lower and thus better constant (because O(OC) should be under IC). Improbability is a constant of how weird a universe is, and Calcification is how difficult it is to change things, usually compared to time travel. A High C universe is on a fixed timeline, one with a low Calcification is more temporally mutable.
Sir_Braazmiir
Tiefling Paladin
- Location
- Wherever I am
"Alright," Iowa figured she'd humor him before refocusing on singing Anchors Aweigh. Her crews got into the act too, raising signal flags that anyone who could read flag language would recognize as "Go Navy Beat Army".
PAGDTenno
Verified Warmind. Probably on fire.
- Location
- South Carolina
Bahzell managed an angry grunt, without interrupting his singing. Then he blinked, as he realized the short woman's hair now had what looked like signal flags in it. He brought up a shovel-sized hand to rub his eyes, and when he let it back down, it only confirmed that he was, indeed, seeing what he saw.
Briefly interrupting his singing, he grumbled, "It seems Himself was after holding back on the strangeness of the multiverse."
Then he went back to singing the atrocious marching song his commanding officer had picked. Though, he reminded himself, at least it wasn't The Lay of Bahzell Bloody Hand, that thrice-curst song of Brandark's.
Last edited:
samdamandias
Apprentice Plane Wizard
Ralph nods. "Unless it's going to pose significant danger to our platoon or the base in the next few hours, I would suggest tabling the issue until after the ceremony, when it may be dealt with in an appropriately."
After a short pause, Ralph joins the cadence on the next verse.
Dust and echoes
Ghost of Shitposts Past
- Location
- Fortuna Penal Colony
"<The conversation is not a physical object, it canno->" NorthStar paused. Dammit, that didn't make sense. "<Query: Was that another...figure of speech?>"
Foreign Legion Inauguration
Inter-VersaLoli
Delusional Aspiring Writer
- Location
- Singapore
PC Group 1 & 2 - Indoor Field #2
The two PC Groups slowed down to a stop in front of a building that looked rather like a warehouse. Several other platoons, also clad in the same white dress uniform as our PCs, were waiting around the entrance. But it wasn't just people in the Legion. There were also men and women of many other uniforms, and even a few that looked like civilian workers.
The last two, in particular (the redheaded woman and the woman with the sword and eye patch) approached the PCs.
"Wing Commander, Major, Ma'am! Everyone, salute!" Barkhorn barked, raising her knife hand to her temple in a gesture that have clearly been practiced hundreds of times before.
"Hi Minna! Hi Major Sakamoto!" Erica just waved.
"Good afternoon, Wing Commander, Major." F/Sgt Rossman greeted, also saluting, but in a slightly more relaxed manner.
"Afternoon, ladies! You're looking especially pretty in this summer light, Commander." Waltrud said to Minna, a seductive smile on her face.
"Thank you, Flying Officer." the redhead giggled back. She turned to the PCs. PC Group 1 in particular.
"Good afternoon, I am Wing Commander Minna-Dietlinde Wilcke of the 501st JFW. The one to my left is Squadron Leader Mio Sakamoto, also of the 501st JFW."
"You can also call me Major. It's basically the same rank, anyways." Mio added, with a distinctively booming laugh.
"Both of us are Barkhorn's COs. Just as a curiosity, might we ask how our dear Trudy is doing on her first day of command?"
The huge double-doors in front opened, and everyone entered.
Bright wood paneling and painted lines that formed patterns similar to that found on Basketball or Hockey fields, as well as exercise mats; balls; and nets piled in one corner, indicated use as a Gymnasium, but the area also had a stage with curtains at one end. If one looked above, one could also see lighting fixtures and metal catwalks crisscrossing between the roof supports.
There were also folding row upon row of folding chairs, all facing forwards.
The PCs were directed to positions somewhere near the centre of the floor, surrounded by the other Legionnaire formations. Coincidentally, the two PC Groups also happened to be sitting right next to each other.
The room darkened.
IBADVS Version 1.2.1
Now booting...
A logo appeared. It was of twelve planets arranged equally around a circle with a depiction of the starry skies in it. The twelve planets, all of vastly different colours and climates, had arms extending from them. The hands were clearly of different species and races, with the most human-looking arm extending from a planet that was clearly meant to be Earth.
The different arms met in the centre, with the different hands clasping together in an archetypal symbol of unity. The words Coalition for the Defense of the Five Worlds was displayed in a stylised ribbon at the bottom of the insignia.
Then, a voice, which seemed right at the edge of being either a very humanlike artificial voice, or a very crisp and consise human voice, with a slight metallic filter.
Welcome, and thank you all for signing up to be a part of the Fifth World Foreign Legion.
The Fifth World Foreign Legion is a military branch commissioned by top leaders of the Coalition, as a method to stem problems of manpower. The Legion is not fully under the control of any one state or NGO, and is managed by a combination of personeel from across the Coalition.
The Coalition for the Defense of the Five Worlds and, by Extension, the Rest Of The Known Multiverse, also known as just "The Coalition", is a joint alliance between over a dozen nation-states, and nearly a hundred non-governmental organisations spread out over twelve worlds, several dozen orbital colonies, and one pocket universe.
It was formed in IDY (Inter-Dimensional Year) 1920 AW, as a response to growing aggression from the Republic of Mzma, who have already annexed several worlds, and have clearly stated their intention of establishing their theocratic rule over as many as possible, converting all to the worship of their leader: God-Chancellor of Mankind Joseph Shinmaz
Mzma has been known for various atrocities even before the invasion, such as mass genocide and oppression of non-humans, executions on the grounds of religions, and police brutality.
You, as member of the Foreign Legion, shall fight together with us against this brutal and expansionist state.
The benefits of being a Legion member are varied. Firstly, you shall be housed and fed with all costs covered by us. Secondly, you shall be given a monthly paycheck, either given directly or deposited into the bank of your choosing.
Lastly, upon completion of a tour of duty with us (which takes either two years or an early end to the war with Mzma), you will be eligible for citizenship in fifty of the sixty member states in the Coalition, as reward for your services to the Coalition.
And now, let us welcome our main speaker for today, General Field Marshal of the Deutsches Heer, Armed Forces of Karlsland: Generalfeldmarschall Erwin Rommel.
The men and women surrounding the Legionnaires stood up and saluted the man coming in.
"Be thankful that such a distinguished man has given up his time to speak to you." Barkhorn quietly said to her PCs.
Upon taking the podium, the Field Marshal took the time to survey the white-dressed Legionnaires, before speaking.
"Ha. I remember it like it was yesterday. I thought it was the height of lunacy at the time, hearing the proposal of a military branch composed of foreigners from around the Worlds like some kind of State-sanctioned mercenary group. But, believe it or not, the idea does have precedent. The country of Gallia in my world (of which some of you might better recognise by the name France) had an institution known as Gallian Foreign Legion, composed of foreign nationals, and only foreign nationals. They had a certain advantage that no other military branch had. A group of brave men that can be counted on to face the enemy without risking the lives of it's own citizens. In fact, that dress uniform and Kepi you're wearing is copied fold-by-fold from the Old Legion's Summer Dress Uniform.
But surely, you say, there must be a catch. If all one wanted to do was to fight and earn a living from it, why not join n army closer to home? Or some mercenary group?
Well, there is one other thing the Legion can do for you...
If, for any reason, you wish to leave your old life behind and start anew, in a new world if possible, then the Legion can do that for you. A new passport, new birth certificate, new papers. We will even give you a new legal name if you so wish it. It would have been as if the old you never existed."
For one, long moment, his eyes scanned over the seated ranks of the Legionnaires before him.
"The white of your uniforms represents your cleansing. From this point onwards, you are no longer Human, Orc, Elvaan, Dwarven, Demon, Angel, Construct, or Alien. You are no longer German, American, British, Argentinian, Singaporean, Filipino, Erusian, Osean, Fae, Elvaan, Barbarian, Hellspawn, Covenant, Zentradi, Mid-Childan, Federation, Time Lord, Dalek, Sith, Jedi, or whatever else you identified as before this. Until either the day you die or finish your term of service with us, you are all Legionnaires, and you are all brothers and sisters!" that last point was punctuated by a palm slamming on the podium.
The Field Marshall paused once more, looking over the rows upon rows of newly-minted Legionnaires.
"I do not know what force in your World compelled you to join a fight worlds away and beyond the imaginings of most of your old countrymen. But I hope, that if you finally face the enemy, you will fight him or her as if it was your own hometown that was at stake! Hold the line as if the soil yo're standing on was of your motherland! Make them sweat blood and tears for every inch! If not for our sake, then for the pride of the Kepis you are now currently wearing."
As the Marshall paused in his speech, a man in a shirt, jeans and hard hat, who initially seemed like just another civilian contractor, pulled out a handgun, and started firing shots at the Marshal.
He had no success, though. Rommel quickly ducked beneath the podium as soon as he saw the gun.
"ASSASSIN!" someone shouted.
Gunshots rang out, as people, fellow Legionnaires along with other servicemen and women, dropped all around our PCs. Rows of folding chairs were being toppled over by the weight of many dead bodies. There were now several gunmen perched on the catwalks above, raining automatic fire below. Guards and other personnel fired back, causing some number of the gunmen to fall to the floor like swatted flies. Several young women manifested rigging similar to a battleship's, and fired miniature anti-air rounds at the attackers, taking down a few of them. The gunmen were wearing civilian clothing, wearing face-concealing items such as helmets and balaclavas.
On the stage, the Marshall was helped off into the backstage by a soldier. And just in time, too, for the whole stage was then showered with bullets, gouging holes in the wood and tearing holes in the red curtains.
The young, pantsless, COs were already standing up. They now all sprouted animal ears and tails, and were almost unscathed compared to the rest. They were holding up their hands towards the gunmen and, for those with the sense for it, they were emanating magic in large amounts. Normal young women they were not. Blue rune-like circles made of magic sprouted into existence just above them, blocking bullets like raindrops on an umbrella.
Running in from one side of the building, Barkhorn ran up to Patricia and Titus, an MG40 in each hand, and threw one to each of them, before holding up and shielding as many PCs as she can from the incoming gunfire.
She yelled at the PCs. "All those with ranged attacks, return fire! Everyone else, fall back and take cover!"
Rossman was also tossed a Rocket Launcer, a nine-barrelled Fliegerhammer, by someone. Hefting it with an ease that belies her small frame, she shot off nine different rockets that careened into nine different catwalks. About a dozen gunmen (or at least, the bloody bits that made them up) went flying off. There were still more, though.
"What Trudy said!" Waltrud yelled to her unit.
The two PC Groups slowed down to a stop in front of a building that looked rather like a warehouse. Several other platoons, also clad in the same white dress uniform as our PCs, were waiting around the entrance. But it wasn't just people in the Legion. There were also men and women of many other uniforms, and even a few that looked like civilian workers.
The last two, in particular (the redheaded woman and the woman with the sword and eye patch) approached the PCs.
"Wing Commander, Major, Ma'am! Everyone, salute!" Barkhorn barked, raising her knife hand to her temple in a gesture that have clearly been practiced hundreds of times before.
"Hi Minna! Hi Major Sakamoto!" Erica just waved.
"Good afternoon, Wing Commander, Major." F/Sgt Rossman greeted, also saluting, but in a slightly more relaxed manner.
"Afternoon, ladies! You're looking especially pretty in this summer light, Commander." Waltrud said to Minna, a seductive smile on her face.
"Thank you, Flying Officer." the redhead giggled back. She turned to the PCs. PC Group 1 in particular.
"Good afternoon, I am Wing Commander Minna-Dietlinde Wilcke of the 501st JFW. The one to my left is Squadron Leader Mio Sakamoto, also of the 501st JFW."
"You can also call me Major. It's basically the same rank, anyways." Mio added, with a distinctively booming laugh.
"Both of us are Barkhorn's COs. Just as a curiosity, might we ask how our dear Trudy is doing on her first day of command?"
The huge double-doors in front opened, and everyone entered.
Bright wood paneling and painted lines that formed patterns similar to that found on Basketball or Hockey fields, as well as exercise mats; balls; and nets piled in one corner, indicated use as a Gymnasium, but the area also had a stage with curtains at one end. If one looked above, one could also see lighting fixtures and metal catwalks crisscrossing between the roof supports.
There were also folding row upon row of folding chairs, all facing forwards.
The PCs were directed to positions somewhere near the centre of the floor, surrounded by the other Legionnaire formations. Coincidentally, the two PC Groups also happened to be sitting right next to each other.
The room darkened.
IBADVS Version 1.2.1
Now booting...
A logo appeared. It was of twelve planets arranged equally around a circle with a depiction of the starry skies in it. The twelve planets, all of vastly different colours and climates, had arms extending from them. The hands were clearly of different species and races, with the most human-looking arm extending from a planet that was clearly meant to be Earth.
The different arms met in the centre, with the different hands clasping together in an archetypal symbol of unity. The words Coalition for the Defense of the Five Worlds was displayed in a stylised ribbon at the bottom of the insignia.
Then, a voice, which seemed right at the edge of being either a very humanlike artificial voice, or a very crisp and consise human voice, with a slight metallic filter.
Welcome, and thank you all for signing up to be a part of the Fifth World Foreign Legion.
The Fifth World Foreign Legion is a military branch commissioned by top leaders of the Coalition, as a method to stem problems of manpower. The Legion is not fully under the control of any one state or NGO, and is managed by a combination of personeel from across the Coalition.
The Coalition for the Defense of the Five Worlds and, by Extension, the Rest Of The Known Multiverse, also known as just "The Coalition", is a joint alliance between over a dozen nation-states, and nearly a hundred non-governmental organisations spread out over twelve worlds, several dozen orbital colonies, and one pocket universe.
It was formed in IDY (Inter-Dimensional Year) 1920 AW, as a response to growing aggression from the Republic of Mzma, who have already annexed several worlds, and have clearly stated their intention of establishing their theocratic rule over as many as possible, converting all to the worship of their leader: God-Chancellor of Mankind Joseph Shinmaz
Mzma has been known for various atrocities even before the invasion, such as mass genocide and oppression of non-humans, executions on the grounds of religions, and police brutality.
You, as member of the Foreign Legion, shall fight together with us against this brutal and expansionist state.
The benefits of being a Legion member are varied. Firstly, you shall be housed and fed with all costs covered by us. Secondly, you shall be given a monthly paycheck, either given directly or deposited into the bank of your choosing.
Lastly, upon completion of a tour of duty with us (which takes either two years or an early end to the war with Mzma), you will be eligible for citizenship in fifty of the sixty member states in the Coalition, as reward for your services to the Coalition.
And now, let us welcome our main speaker for today, General Field Marshal of the Deutsches Heer, Armed Forces of Karlsland: Generalfeldmarschall Erwin Rommel.
The men and women surrounding the Legionnaires stood up and saluted the man coming in.
"Be thankful that such a distinguished man has given up his time to speak to you." Barkhorn quietly said to her PCs.
Upon taking the podium, the Field Marshal took the time to survey the white-dressed Legionnaires, before speaking.
"Ha. I remember it like it was yesterday. I thought it was the height of lunacy at the time, hearing the proposal of a military branch composed of foreigners from around the Worlds like some kind of State-sanctioned mercenary group. But, believe it or not, the idea does have precedent. The country of Gallia in my world (of which some of you might better recognise by the name France) had an institution known as Gallian Foreign Legion, composed of foreign nationals, and only foreign nationals. They had a certain advantage that no other military branch had. A group of brave men that can be counted on to face the enemy without risking the lives of it's own citizens. In fact, that dress uniform and Kepi you're wearing is copied fold-by-fold from the Old Legion's Summer Dress Uniform.
But surely, you say, there must be a catch. If all one wanted to do was to fight and earn a living from it, why not join n army closer to home? Or some mercenary group?
Well, there is one other thing the Legion can do for you...
If, for any reason, you wish to leave your old life behind and start anew, in a new world if possible, then the Legion can do that for you. A new passport, new birth certificate, new papers. We will even give you a new legal name if you so wish it. It would have been as if the old you never existed."
For one, long moment, his eyes scanned over the seated ranks of the Legionnaires before him.
"The white of your uniforms represents your cleansing. From this point onwards, you are no longer Human, Orc, Elvaan, Dwarven, Demon, Angel, Construct, or Alien. You are no longer German, American, British, Argentinian, Singaporean, Filipino, Erusian, Osean, Fae, Elvaan, Barbarian, Hellspawn, Covenant, Zentradi, Mid-Childan, Federation, Time Lord, Dalek, Sith, Jedi, or whatever else you identified as before this. Until either the day you die or finish your term of service with us, you are all Legionnaires, and you are all brothers and sisters!" that last point was punctuated by a palm slamming on the podium.
The Field Marshall paused once more, looking over the rows upon rows of newly-minted Legionnaires.
"I do not know what force in your World compelled you to join a fight worlds away and beyond the imaginings of most of your old countrymen. But I hope, that if you finally face the enemy, you will fight him or her as if it was your own hometown that was at stake! Hold the line as if the soil yo're standing on was of your motherland! Make them sweat blood and tears for every inch! If not for our sake, then for the pride of the Kepis you are now currently wearing."
As the Marshall paused in his speech, a man in a shirt, jeans and hard hat, who initially seemed like just another civilian contractor, pulled out a handgun, and started firing shots at the Marshal.
He had no success, though. Rommel quickly ducked beneath the podium as soon as he saw the gun.
"ASSASSIN!" someone shouted.
Gunshots rang out, as people, fellow Legionnaires along with other servicemen and women, dropped all around our PCs. Rows of folding chairs were being toppled over by the weight of many dead bodies. There were now several gunmen perched on the catwalks above, raining automatic fire below. Guards and other personnel fired back, causing some number of the gunmen to fall to the floor like swatted flies. Several young women manifested rigging similar to a battleship's, and fired miniature anti-air rounds at the attackers, taking down a few of them. The gunmen were wearing civilian clothing, wearing face-concealing items such as helmets and balaclavas.
On the stage, the Marshall was helped off into the backstage by a soldier. And just in time, too, for the whole stage was then showered with bullets, gouging holes in the wood and tearing holes in the red curtains.
The young, pantsless, COs were already standing up. They now all sprouted animal ears and tails, and were almost unscathed compared to the rest. They were holding up their hands towards the gunmen and, for those with the sense for it, they were emanating magic in large amounts. Normal young women they were not. Blue rune-like circles made of magic sprouted into existence just above them, blocking bullets like raindrops on an umbrella.
Running in from one side of the building, Barkhorn ran up to Patricia and Titus, an MG40 in each hand, and threw one to each of them, before holding up and shielding as many PCs as she can from the incoming gunfire.
She yelled at the PCs. "All those with ranged attacks, return fire! Everyone else, fall back and take cover!"
Rossman was also tossed a Rocket Launcer, a nine-barrelled Fliegerhammer, by someone. Hefting it with an ease that belies her small frame, she shot off nine different rockets that careened into nine different catwalks. About a dozen gunmen (or at least, the bloody bits that made them up) went flying off. There were still more, though.
"What Trudy said!" Waltrud yelled to her unit.
Last edited:
Theravis
A Knight for those Suffering
- Location
- West Michigan
Shit!PC Group 1 & 2 - Indoor Field #2
The two PC Groups slowed down to a stop in front of a building that looked rather like a warehouse. Several other platoons, also clad in the same white dress uniform as our PCs, were waiting around the entrance. But it wasn't just people in the Legion. There were also men and women of many other uniforms, and even a few that looked like civilian workers.
The last two, in particular (the redheaded woman and the woman with the sword and eye patch) approached the PCs.
"Wing Commander, Major, Ma'am! Everyone, salute!" Barkhorn barked, raising her knife hand to her temple in a gesture that have clearly been practiced hundreds of times before.
"Hi Minna! Hi Major Sakamoto!" Erica just waved.
"Good afternoon, Wing Commander, Major." F/Sgt Rossman greeted, also saluting, but in a slightly more relaxed manner.
"Afternoon, ladies! You're looking especially pretty in this summer light, Commander." Waltrud said to Minna, a seductive smile on her face.
"Thank you, Flying Officer." the redhead giggled back. She turned to the PCs. PC Group 1 in particular.
"Good afternoon, I am Wing Commander Minna-Dietlinde Wilcke of the 501st JFW. The one to my left is Squadron Leader Mio Sakamoto, also of the 501st JFW."
"You can also call me Major. It's basically the same rank, anyways." Mio added, with a distinctively booming laugh.
"Both of us are Barkhorn's COs. Just as a curiosity, might we ask how our dear Trudy is doing on her first day of command?"
The huge double-doors in front opened, and everyone entered.
Bright wood paneling and painted lines that formed patterns similar to that found on Basketball or Hockey fields, as well as exercise mats; balls; and nets piled in one corner, indicated use as a Gymnasium, but the area also had a stage with curtains at one end. If one looked above, one could also see lighting fixtures and metal catwalks crisscrossing between the roof supports.
There were also folding row upon row of folding chairs, all facing forwards.
The PCs were directed to positions somewhere near the centre of the floor, surrounded by the other Legionnaire formations. Coincidentally, the two PC Groups also happened to be sitting right next to each other.
The room darkened.
IBADVS Version 1.2.1
Now booting...
A logo appeared. It was of twelve planets arranged equally around a circle with a depiction of the starry skies in it. The twelve planets, all of vastly different colours and climates, had arms extending from them. The hands were clearly of different species and races, with the most human-looking arm extending from a planet that was clearly meant to be Earth.
The different arms met in the centre, with the different hands clasping together in an archetypal symbol of unity. The words Coalition for the Defense of the Five Worlds was displayed in a stylised ribbon at the bottom of the insignia.
Then, a voice, which seemed right at the edge of being either a very humanlike artificial voice, or a very crisp and consise human voice, with a slight metallic filter.
Welcome, and thank you all for signing up to be a part of the Fifth World Foreign Legion.
The Fifth World Foreign Legion is a military branch commissioned by top leaders of the Coalition, as a method to stem problems of manpower. The Legion is not fully under the control of any one state or NGO, and is managed by a combination of personeel from across the Coalition.
The Coalition for the Defense of the Five Worlds and, by Extension, the Rest Of The Known Multiverse, also known as just "The Coalition", is a joint alliance between over a dozen nation-states, and nearly a hundred non-governmental organisations spread out over twelve worlds, several dozen orbital colonies, and one pocket universe.
It was formed in IDY (Inter-Dimensional Year) 1920 AW, as a response to growing aggression from the Republic of Mzma, who have already annexed several worlds, and have clearly stated their intention of establishing their theocratic rule over as many as possible, converting all to the worship of their leader: God-Chancellor of Mankind Joseph Shinmaz
Mzma has been known for various atrocities even before the invasion, such as mass genocide and oppression of non-humans, executions on the grounds of religions, and police brutality.
You, as member of the Foreign Legion, shall fight together with us against this brutal and expansionist state.
The benefits of being a Legion member are varied. Firstly, you shall be housed and fed with all costs covered by us. Secondly, you shall be given a monthly paycheck, either given directly or deposited into the bank of your choosing.
Lastly, upon completion of a tour of duty with us (which takes either two years or an early end to the war with Mzma), you will be eligible for citizenship in fifty of the sixty member states in the Coalition, as reward for your services to the Coalition.
And now, let us welcome our main speaker for today, General Field Marshal of the Deutsches Heer, Armed Forces of Karlsland: Generalfeldmarschall Erwin Rommel.
The men and women surrounding the Legionnaires stood up and saluted the man coming in.
"Be thankful that such a distinguished man has given up his time to speak to you." Barkhorn quietly said to her PCs.
Upon taking the podium, the Field Marshal took the time to survey the white-dressed Legionnaires, before speaking.
"Ha. I remember it like it was yesterday. I thought it was the height of lunacy at the time, hearing the proposal of a military branch composed of foreigners from around the Worlds like some kind of State-sanctioned mercenary group. But, believe it or not, the idea does have precedent. The country of Gallia in my world (of which some of you might better recognise by the name France) had an institution known as Gallian Foreign Legion, composed of foreign nationals, and only foreign nationals. They had a certain advantage that no other military branch had. A group of brave men that can be counted on to face the enemy without risking the lives of it's own citizens. In fact, that dress uniform and Kepi you're wearing is copied fold-by-fold from the Old Legion's Summer Dress Uniform.
But surely, you say, there must be a catch. If all one wanted to do was to fight and earn a living from it, why not join n army closer to home? Or some mercenary group?
Well, there is one other thing the Legion can do for you...
If, for any reason, you wish to leave your old life behind and start anew, in a new world if possible, then the Legion can do that for you. A new passport, new birth certificate, new papers. We will even give you a new legal name if you so wish it. It would have been as if the old you never existed."
For one, long moment, his eyes scanned over the seated ranks of the Legionnaires before him.
"The white of your uniforms represents your cleansing. From this point onwards, you are no longer Human, Orc, Elvaan, Dwarven, Demon, Angel, Construct, or Alien. You are no longer German, American, British, Argentinian, Singaporean, Filipino, Erusian, Osean, Fae, Elvaan, Barbarian, Hellspawn, Covenant, Zentradi, Mid-Childan, Federation, Time Lord, Dalek, Sith, Jedi, or whatever else you identified as before this. Until either the day you die or finish your term of service with us, you are all Legionnaires, and you are all brothers and sisters!" that last point was punctuated by a palm slamming on the podium.
The Field Marshall paused once more, looking over the rows upon rows of newly-minted Legionnaires.
"I do not know what force in your World compelled you to join a fight worlds away and beyond the imaginings of most of your old countrymen. But I hope, that if you finally face the enemy, you will fight him or her as if it was your own hometown that was at stake! Hold the line as if the soil yo're standing on was of your motherland! Make them sweat blood and tears for every inch! If not for our sake, then for the pride of the Kepis you are now currently wearing."
As the Marshall paused in his speech, a man in a shirt, jeans and hard hat, who initially seemed like just another civilian contractor, pulled out a handgun, and started firing shots at the Marshal.
He had no success, though. Rommel quickly ducked beneath the podium as soon as he saw the gun.
"ASSASSIN!" someone shouted.
Gunshots rang out, as people, fellow Legionnaires along with other servicemen and women, dropped all around our PCs. Rows of folding chairs were being toppled over by the weight of many dead bodies. There were now several gunmen perched on the catwalks above, raining automatic fire below. Guards and other personnel fired back, causing some number of the gunmen to fall to the floor like swatted flies. Several young women manifested rigging similar to a battleship's, and fired miniature anti-air rounds at the attackers, taking down a few of them. The gunmen were wearing civilian clothing, wearing face-concealing items such as helmets and balaclavas.
On the stage, the Marshall was helped off into the backstage by a soldier. And just in time, too, for the whole stage was then showered with bullets, gouging holes in the wood and tearing holes in the red curtains.
The young, pantsless, COs were already standing up. They now all sprouted animal ears and tails, and were almost unscathed compared to the rest. They were holding up their hands towards the gunmen and, for those with the sense for it, they were emanating magic in large amounts. Normal young women they were not. Blue rune-like circles made of magic sprouted into existence just above them, blocking bullets like raindrops on an umbrella.
Running in from one side of the building, Barkhorn ran up to Patricia and Titus, an MG40 in each hand, and threw one to each of them, before holding up and shielding as many PCs as she can from the incoming gunfire.
She yelled at the PCs. "All those with ranged attacks, return fire! Everyone else, fall back and take cover!"
Rossman was also tossed a Rocket Launcer, a nine-barrelled Fliegerhammer, by someone. Hefting it with an ease that belies her small frame, she shot off nine different rockets that careened into nine different catwalks. About a dozen gunmen (or at least, the bloody bits that made them up) went flying off. There were still more, though.
"What Trudy said!" Waltrud yelled to her unit.
Patricia summoned up her combat armor and a railgun drone, a flash of yellow light bringing up the interlocking gold-and-white plates and glowing soulgem-decoys of her armor.
Flooding her limbs with magic, she vaulted into the catwalks, MG40 in hand, the slightest trickle of magic guiding her descent neatly onto a catwalk outflanking the enemy.
Look like standard bullets, and if they aren't, cover won't help me. Trust in my armor.
-|D.1, railgun rapidfire suppression on target groups designated Alpha.|-
She commed the railgun drone, enjoying the fuzzy nostalgia of her favorite pet mechanical as it opened up with its high-velocity rifles.
She strode forward down the catwalk, soulgem and decoys blazing to match the fire from her borrowed Machine Gun as she triggered her armor speakers.
"Surrender now and you might live. I don't feel like cleaning pulped assassin out of my armor joints today."
PAGDTenno
Verified Warmind. Probably on fire.
- Location
- South Carolina
Bahzell slammed a fist to his chest, and braced to attention.
He then followed everyone else through the double doors. If nothing else, he mused, the Legion knew theatrics.
Bahzell's ears twitched, and he openly smiled. If nothing else, this man had a style that any hradani could respect. He would have fit in perfectly in the battles at the Ghoul Moor.
His cheer, however, evaporated as soon as he saw the man draw what was clearly a weapon. Instantly, he reached down deep within himself, and called the Rage. In an instant, cold, merciless Purpose filled him, time slowed to a crawl, and as the man opened fire with the tiny, but loud weapon in his hand, Bahzell noticed that several other apparent civilians were suddenly moving with purpose. He drew his hand back, and rather large (though tiny in his shovel-sized hands) knife dropped into his hand, and flew through the air like a thunderbolt at the nearest assassin, actually knocking the man head over heels when it smashed through his spine.
The moment the knife left his hand, he suddenly sensed, vaguely, large amounts of magic emanating from the tiny, pantsless girls. Who now had animal ears. He shook his head, and closed his hand on thin air, and shouted "COME!", and five and a half feet of cold steel emerged in his hand in a blaze of acitinic blue light. He turned, and bolted for the nearest wounded infantryman, and yanked him to cover, as he pressed the quillons of his sword to his forehead and reached for the connection to his deity. He couldn't do anything more in this fight, not without his arbalest. But at least he could help this man win the fight for his life.
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munchkinomatic
Douchiest of Bags
- Location
- The land of Skepticism
Twelves planets and five worlds? Aurelion Sol shrugged. Great things start small, after all.
Well, small things also start small, but whatever.
He blinked again, eyes twitching at the sudden outbreak of combat. Well, let it not be said that these mortals don't know how to make things exciting, very lacking security though. If he was in charge of such event, no mortal assassin would even be able to get close.
Mostly because he would host it at the core of his brightest, greatest star, surrounded by even more stars, but he digressed.
Taking to the air and toward the Marshal, Aurelion Call forth his signature halo of stars, creating a blazing ring of fire around them that should hopefully block line of sights of any gunner. The heat should also greatly disrupt most projectile weapons.
Also, projectile weapons? What aeon is this?
Dust and echoes
Ghost of Shitposts Past
- Location
- Fortuna Penal Colony
"<Gunfire registered, Unit engaging multiple enemy infantry. Railgun spinning up.>"
Like some Titanic God of War, NorthStar rose to her full height, widening her stance and unslinging her massive railgun, it's magnetic accelerator spinning in a series of Tver-escalating metallic clicks.
Target after target were outlined in Orange as NorthStar turned to face them, small arms fire ricocheting and careening off her armor. After a split-seconds indescision, she leveled the weapon.
"<Heads down. Firing.>"
The weapon split the air with a titanic whip-crack, the sheer noise of the weapon throwing several of the people closest to NorthStar to the ground. Up on one of the catwalks above, a gunman vanished in a puff of red dog, as a hypersonic slug the size of his torso blew him from existence.
The catwalk itself was wrenched violently sideways by the sheer passage of the ballistic projectile, throwing another gunman screaming to the ground.
An-ever increasing hail of bullets continued to carom off Northstars carapace, aiming for her eye. These thugs weren't stupid, she could tell that...
"<Target destroyed. Acquiring new target.>"
Like some Titanic God of War, NorthStar rose to her full height, widening her stance and unslinging her massive railgun, it's magnetic accelerator spinning in a series of Tver-escalating metallic clicks.
Target after target were outlined in Orange as NorthStar turned to face them, small arms fire ricocheting and careening off her armor. After a split-seconds indescision, she leveled the weapon.
"<Heads down. Firing.>"
The weapon split the air with a titanic whip-crack, the sheer noise of the weapon throwing several of the people closest to NorthStar to the ground. Up on one of the catwalks above, a gunman vanished in a puff of red dog, as a hypersonic slug the size of his torso blew him from existence.
The catwalk itself was wrenched violently sideways by the sheer passage of the ballistic projectile, throwing another gunman screaming to the ground.
An-ever increasing hail of bullets continued to carom off Northstars carapace, aiming for her eye. These thugs weren't stupid, she could tell that...
"<Target destroyed. Acquiring new target.>"
tankdrop24
Tread First into Hell
- Location
- The Center of the Universe: Toronto, Canada
- Pronouns
- He/Him
It looked like Sarge had run out of time.
He may have failed to follow his superiors orders to change, but only because he had been enforcing discipline on an even greater insubordination, and in the end, from a utilitywhatevertherestofthatwordwas perspective, wasn't that the more important thing?
In anycase, he kept himself to the back of the formation and focused only on the march itself, singing louder than any of the others, as well as making a few 'creative' substitutions to make the song more in line with how Sarge viewed soldierhood.
Sarge took a seat along with the rest of his unit.
Some machine folk was going to be giving the big speech? Sarge would of course have prefered they gave her a classier name like Kali Mumbunza Hoorvitz or something, but it was nice to be listening to someone truly intelligent for once.
Sarge leaned forward, enthralled. He could already picture himself shoving his shotgun up their undoubtly blue uniformed asses, and it was a good mental image.
So ending the war sooner meant that they would get to become civilians, what kind of cocamanie motivator was that supposed to be?
Rommel? That name rung a bell.
Didn't he fight for a horrible fascist regime responsible for committing some of the worst crimes of the 20th century willingly? And worse, didn't they lose?
Gary Coleman's crackers, they really did need Sarge's help if the best they could come up to motivate new troops was civilian life and some loser war criminal.
Even Sarge was able to at least be marginally aware of the irony of him wearing his armor in the middle of the speech.
The Legion didn't have to worry about his commitment to the cause though. Sarge may have been a Red at heart, but he was also one hundred percent behind kicking some serious ass!
Those blues though...
Sarge smiled. "With all due respect ma'am, I told you so."
Finally some action! A chance to show just how much of Sergeant he really was!
Without a care in the world for what the others were doing Sarge charged forwards towards that catwalk, taking his trusty shotgun from his back and giving it a badass cocking (sending an unspent shell to the ground in the process). He had his orders, to return fire, but with a shotgun, that meant getting close to the enemy.
He darted through the raining bullets, until he was under the catwalk.
"Sorry folks, but ya got the wrong place. This ain't hell, but I can show you the way!" Sarge began firing straight up at the enemy.
Sir_Braazmiir
Tiefling Paladin
- Location
- Wherever I am
Throughout Rommel's speech, Iowa contemplated its meaning. As an American, she reserved the right to individuality. She didn't want to lose that.PC Group 1 & 2 - Indoor Field #2
The two PC Groups slowed down to a stop in front of a building that looked rather like a warehouse. Several other platoons, also clad in the same white dress uniform as our PCs, were waiting around the entrance. But it wasn't just people in the Legion. There were also men and women of many other uniforms, and even a few that looked like civilian workers.
The last two, in particular (the redheaded woman and the woman with the sword and eye patch) approached the PCs.
"Wing Commander, Major, Ma'am! Everyone, salute!" Barkhorn barked, raising her knife hand to her temple in a gesture that have clearly been practiced hundreds of times before.
"Hi Minna! Hi Major Sakamoto!" Erica just waved.
"Good afternoon, Wing Commander, Major." F/Sgt Rossman greeted, also saluting, but in a slightly more relaxed manner.
"Afternoon, ladies! You're looking especially pretty in this summer light, Commander." Waltrud said to Minna, a seductive smile on her face.
"Thank you, Flying Officer." the redhead giggled back. She turned to the PCs. PC Group 1 in particular.
"Good afternoon, I am Wing Commander Minna-Dietlinde Wilcke of the 501st JFW. The one to my left is Squadron Leader Mio Sakamoto, also of the 501st JFW."
"You can also call me Major. It's basically the same rank, anyways." Mio added, with a distinctively booming laugh.
"Both of us are Barkhorn's COs. Just as a curiosity, might we ask how our dear Trudy is doing on her first day of command?"
The huge double-doors in front opened, and everyone entered.
Bright wood paneling and painted lines that formed patterns similar to that found on Basketball or Hockey fields, as well as exercise mats; balls; and nets piled in one corner, indicated use as a Gymnasium, but the area also had a stage with curtains at one end. If one looked above, one could also see lighting fixtures and metal catwalks crisscrossing between the roof supports.
There were also folding row upon row of folding chairs, all facing forwards.
The PCs were directed to positions somewhere near the centre of the floor, surrounded by the other Legionnaire formations. Coincidentally, the two PC Groups also happened to be sitting right next to each other.
The room darkened.
IBADVS Version 1.2.1
Now booting...
A logo appeared. It was of twelve planets arranged equally around a circle with a depiction of the starry skies in it. The twelve planets, all of vastly different colours and climates, had arms extending from them. The hands were clearly of different species and races, with the most human-looking arm extending from a planet that was clearly meant to be Earth.
The different arms met in the centre, with the different hands clasping together in an archetypal symbol of unity. The words Coalition for the Defense of the Five Worlds was displayed in a stylised ribbon at the bottom of the insignia.
Then, a voice, which seemed right at the edge of being either a very humanlike artificial voice, or a very crisp and consise human voice, with a slight metallic filter.
Welcome, and thank you all for signing up to be a part of the Fifth World Foreign Legion.
The Fifth World Foreign Legion is a military branch commissioned by top leaders of the Coalition, as a method to stem problems of manpower. The Legion is not fully under the control of any one state or NGO, and is managed by a combination of personeel from across the Coalition.
The Coalition for the Defense of the Five Worlds and, by Extension, the Rest Of The Known Multiverse, also known as just "The Coalition", is a joint alliance between over a dozen nation-states, and nearly a hundred non-governmental organisations spread out over twelve worlds, several dozen orbital colonies, and one pocket universe.
It was formed in IDY (Inter-Dimensional Year) 1920 AW, as a response to growing aggression from the Republic of Mzma, who have already annexed several worlds, and have clearly stated their intention of establishing their theocratic rule over as many as possible, converting all to the worship of their leader: God-Chancellor of Mankind Joseph Shinmaz
Mzma has been known for various atrocities even before the invasion, such as mass genocide and oppression of non-humans, executions on the grounds of religions, and police brutality.
You, as member of the Foreign Legion, shall fight together with us against this brutal and expansionist state.
The benefits of being a Legion member are varied. Firstly, you shall be housed and fed with all costs covered by us. Secondly, you shall be given a monthly paycheck, either given directly or deposited into the bank of your choosing.
Lastly, upon completion of a tour of duty with us (which takes either two years or an early end to the war with Mzma), you will be eligible for citizenship in fifty of the sixty member states in the Coalition, as reward for your services to the Coalition.
And now, let us welcome our main speaker for today, General Field Marshal of the Deutsches Heer, Armed Forces of Karlsland: Generalfeldmarschall Erwin Rommel.
The men and women surrounding the Legionnaires stood up and saluted the man coming in.
"Be thankful that such a distinguished man has given up his time to speak to you." Barkhorn quietly said to her PCs.
Upon taking the podium, the Field Marshal took the time to survey the white-dressed Legionnaires, before speaking.
"Ha. I remember it like it was yesterday. I thought it was the height of lunacy at the time, hearing the proposal of a military branch composed of foreigners from around the Worlds like some kind of State-sanctioned mercenary group. But, believe it or not, the idea does have precedent. The country of Gallia in my world (of which some of you might better recognise by the name France) had an institution known as Gallian Foreign Legion, composed of foreign nationals, and only foreign nationals. They had a certain advantage that no other military branch had. A group of brave men that can be counted on to face the enemy without risking the lives of it's own citizens. In fact, that dress uniform and Kepi you're wearing is copied fold-by-fold from the Old Legion's Summer Dress Uniform.
But surely, you say, there must be a catch. If all one wanted to do was to fight and earn a living from it, why not join n army closer to home? Or some mercenary group?
Well, there is one other thing the Legion can do for you...
If, for any reason, you wish to leave your old life behind and start anew, in a new world if possible, then the Legion can do that for you. A new passport, new birth certificate, new papers. We will even give you a new legal name if you so wish it. It would have been as if the old you never existed."
For one, long moment, his eyes scanned over the seated ranks of the Legionnaires before him.
"The white of your uniforms represents your cleansing. From this point onwards, you are no longer Human, Orc, Elvaan, Dwarven, Demon, Angel, Construct, or Alien. You are no longer German, American, British, Argentinian, Singaporean, Filipino, Erusian, Osean, Fae, Elvaan, Barbarian, Hellspawn, Covenant, Zentradi, Mid-Childan, Federation, Time Lord, Dalek, Sith, Jedi, or whatever else you identified as before this. Until either the day you die or finish your term of service with us, you are all Legionnaires, and you are all brothers and sisters!" that last point was punctuated by a palm slamming on the podium.
The Field Marshall paused once more, looking over the rows upon rows of newly-minted Legionnaires.
"I do not know what force in your World compelled you to join a fight worlds away and beyond the imaginings of most of your old countrymen. But I hope, that if you finally face the enemy, you will fight him or her as if it was your own hometown that was at stake! Hold the line as if the soil yo're standing on was of your motherland! Make them sweat blood and tears for every inch! If not for our sake, then for the pride of the Kepis you are now currently wearing."
As the Marshall paused in his speech, a man in a shirt, jeans and hard hat, who initially seemed like just another civilian contractor, pulled out a handgun, and started firing shots at the Marshal.
He had no success, though. Rommel quickly ducked beneath the podium as soon as he saw the gun.
"ASSASSIN!" someone shouted.
Gunshots rang out, as people, fellow Legionnaires along with other servicemen and women, dropped all around our PCs. Rows of folding chairs were being toppled over by the weight of many dead bodies. There were now several gunmen perched on the catwalks above, raining automatic fire below. Guards and other personnel fired back, causing some number of the gunmen to fall to the floor like swatted flies. Several young women manifested rigging similar to a battleship's, and fired miniature anti-air rounds at the attackers, taking down a few of them. The gunmen were wearing civilian clothing, wearing face-concealing items such as helmets and balaclavas.
On the stage, the Marshall was helped off into the backstage by a soldier. And just in time, too, for the whole stage was then showered with bullets, gouging holes in the wood and tearing holes in the red curtains.
The young, pantsless, COs were already standing up. They now all sprouted animal ears and tails, and were almost unscathed compared to the rest. They were holding up their hands towards the gunmen and, for those with the sense for it, they were emanating magic in large amounts. Normal young women they were not. Blue rune-like circles made of magic sprouted into existence just above them, blocking bullets like raindrops on an umbrella.
Running in from one side of the building, Barkhorn ran up to Patricia and Titus, an MG40 in each hand, and threw one to each of them, before holding up and shielding as many PCs as she can from the incoming gunfire.
She yelled at the PCs. "All those with ranged attacks, return fire! Everyone else, fall back and take cover!"
Rossman was also tossed a Rocket Launcer, a nine-barrelled Fliegerhammer, by someone. Hefting it with an ease that belies her small frame, she shot off nine different rockets that careened into nine different catwalks. About a dozen gunmen (or at least, the bloody bits that made them up) went flying off. There were still more, though.
"What Trudy said!" Waltrud yelled to her unit.
When the Assassin attacked, Iowa sprang into action. She summoned her rigging and sounded the General Quarters alarm. Aboard her decks, sailors prepared for combat while Marines readied their gear. Iowa started with suppressing AA fire, which tore through the enemy's combat armor like HEAT through tanks. Meanwhile, the Marines were storming the hostile positions like they were foreign beaches in the early to mid-1940s.
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Blackout
Fed By Comments
- Location
- Who knows?
Chara had almost, almost started to feel inspired. Then...
They recoiled as gunshots filled the room, throwing up their magic on instinct. A golden, green-hued flower bloomed in front of them, bullets pinging harmlessly from it.
Chara giggled slightly as they held out their hands, floating into the air while red, black-hued magic formed into large kitchen knives.
Cracks filled the air as each knife was sent flying towards the attackers like bullets. They struck with disturbing accuracy, finding throats, eyes, arteries, and other vital points, only to be followed by yet another as a steady stream of blades rained upon the gunmen.
They recoiled as gunshots filled the room, throwing up their magic on instinct. A golden, green-hued flower bloomed in front of them, bullets pinging harmlessly from it.
Chara giggled slightly as they held out their hands, floating into the air while red, black-hued magic formed into large kitchen knives.
Cracks filled the air as each knife was sent flying towards the attackers like bullets. They struck with disturbing accuracy, finding throats, eyes, arteries, and other vital points, only to be followed by yet another as a steady stream of blades rained upon the gunmen.
- Location
- England
Oh no bullets. Not this again.
A momentary panic was quieted once the Sheriff mentally confirmed that the assassins weren't here for him this time, which notably raised his survival chances. Of course, he didn't have his guns on him, so it was time to find cover.
Where the heck could he find cover in an open gymnasium?
Reasoning that the best place to be was between the people with invincible shields and the bullets, he stayed close behind Barkhorn in order to try and avoid being shot.
A momentary panic was quieted once the Sheriff mentally confirmed that the assassins weren't here for him this time, which notably raised his survival chances. Of course, he didn't have his guns on him, so it was time to find cover.
Where the heck could he find cover in an open gymnasium?
Reasoning that the best place to be was between the people with invincible shields and the bullets, he stayed close behind Barkhorn in order to try and avoid being shot.
Dalek Ix
Verified Dalek
362, who was barely winded by the run, halted her conversation with Chara to look about at the people around her.
'We'll talk later,' she signed at the... kid.
362 snapped a salute at the Commander and the Major, and strived to remain unnoticed by them, even as her mind burned with a singular question.
I need to know why none of them are wearing pants!! Why!?!?
Oh god, it's a powerpoint. Yaaaaaaaaaay.
Regardless, 362 tried to pay attention to what it was saying, as this could be vital information to the KND, and her own desicion to sabotage this "Legion".
She almost missed what the computerized voice said at the end, though.
Rachel blinked.
Then she blinked again, as one of a handfull of adults she admired walked into the stage, in the flesh.
Rommel.
"Oh my gosh!" she squealed, hands clasped and her inner fangirl out at full force, "It's Herr Rommell! I read his book!"
Some part of 362 was noting down what the Desert Fox was saying as important information to relay to the KND.
The rest of her was too busy fangirling about being in the same room as the Desert Fox.
(... Daleks!? That sounds like the worst idea ever.)
And then some of what the Field Marshal said managed to wriggle into her concious mind.
Hold on, I recognize some of those names. Aren't they supposed to be fictional?
She paused to consider this.
Well, I guess everyone's fiction to someone else in the multiverse.
... That might actually prove to be an advantage. Or a weakness.
The point about training was to make sure your body reacted as quick as possible to certain situations.
This mean that, before 362 was conciously aware of it, she was standing on top of her chair and aiming a M.A.R.B.L.E.-chambered revolver at the gunman, her finger tightening on the trigger.
Blam! went the gun, as the binary propellant charge ignited, and sent a marble at speed that would've been plenty painfull enough...
BOOM!
...If said marble wasn't also filled with compressed, mustard-based high explosive.
Anyone else would've paused, or hesitated. Even regular KND Operatives would've taken a few brief moments to react.
Not Sector S. Not Rachel T. McKenzie.
"Returning fire!" the tiny special forces soldier roared, turning her aim to the catwalks and teachning the gunmen a lesson in finding sturier cover.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The rounds impacted against the catwalk, turning the gunmen's cover into so much metal shrapnel.
Four rounds expended. Two on chamber. Surrounded, and with the enemy holding higher ground.
Need to equalize. Should've brought my rifle.
362 took a moment to look at Chara and, after a brief second of processing what she was seeing, called out to them.
"Chara!" she roared, "Aim for the supports!"
Then she saw that someone in a Legion uniform was up there with the gunmen, doing god-knows-what.
"...Cancel that! Chara, on me, NOW!"
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UbeOne
Daydreaming CPU
- Location
- Philippines
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Kaname Madoka
Foreign Legion Auditorium
Madoka softly adds her voice to the singing platoon as they increase their pace. It feels odd, though.
She imitates the others as they salute the officers.
She pays attention as the presentation begins. As it describes the Coalition and the current state of affairs against Mzma, it becomes clear to her just how dire the situation is. An expansionist empire committing all kinds of atrocities that sound like something from the Second World War? It was clearly the right decision to join the fight. She couldn't just sit back and watch as the injustice continues.
Rommel? As in that famous German commander? How is he still around? He must be from another universe.
...There's a certain irony with having him in charge of the liberation effort. That was an inspiring speech though.
Wait, Mid-Childan? That sounds very familiar. She remembers watching that anime before, though it was a long time ago.
!?
Attackers? Here?!
She immediately transforms to her magical girl attire, then proceeds to summon a glyph above her, facing forward. Afterwards, as she retreats into cover, she summons a bow and shoots an energy arrow at the glyph. What follows is a rain of arrows from the glyph, aimed at the various enemies.
She keeps up the attack by repeatedly shooting the glyph and directing the resulting barrages.
Foreign Legion Auditorium
Madoka softly adds her voice to the singing platoon as they increase their pace. It feels odd, though.
She imitates the others as they salute the officers.
She pays attention as the presentation begins. As it describes the Coalition and the current state of affairs against Mzma, it becomes clear to her just how dire the situation is. An expansionist empire committing all kinds of atrocities that sound like something from the Second World War? It was clearly the right decision to join the fight. She couldn't just sit back and watch as the injustice continues.
Rommel? As in that famous German commander? How is he still around? He must be from another universe.
...There's a certain irony with having him in charge of the liberation effort. That was an inspiring speech though.
Wait, Mid-Childan? That sounds very familiar. She remembers watching that anime before, though it was a long time ago.
!?
Attackers? Here?!
She immediately transforms to her magical girl attire, then proceeds to summon a glyph above her, facing forward. Afterwards, as she retreats into cover, she summons a bow and shoots an energy arrow at the glyph. What follows is a rain of arrows from the glyph, aimed at the various enemies.
She keeps up the attack by repeatedly shooting the glyph and directing the resulting barrages.
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Blackout
Fed By Comments
- Location
- Who knows?
Chara paused for a moment, scowling at the shouting girl. They let off the rain of knives, before disappearing and reappearing next to Rachel, annoyance written all over their features.
"What."
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Dalek Ix
Verified Dalek
362 pointed up at the highest catwalk.
"Can you get me up there?" she asked, "We need to take the high ground off these people."
She paused.
"I know I'm not in command of anything right now, but I could also use your help up there," she admitted.
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PAGDTenno
Verified Warmind. Probably on fire.
- Location
- South Carolina
Bahzell heard this, and grinned.
"One express ride upstairs, coming right up!"
He took two mighty strides over to the pipsqueak, grabbed her in both shovel-sized hands, and threw her up and over the catwalk.
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The Fourth Monado
S U B A R A S H I I
- Location
- Away
"Right."PC Group 1 & 2 - Indoor Field #2
The two PC Groups slowed down to a stop in front of a building that looked rather like a warehouse. Several other platoons, also clad in the same white dress uniform as our PCs, were waiting around the entrance. But it wasn't just people in the Legion. There were also men and women of many other uniforms, and even a few that looked like civilian workers.
The last two, in particular (the redheaded woman and the woman with the sword and eye patch) approached the PCs.
"Wing Commander, Major, Ma'am! Everyone, salute!" Barkhorn barked, raising her knife hand to her temple in a gesture that have clearly been practiced hundreds of times before.
"Hi Minna! Hi Major Sakamoto!" Erica just waved.
"Good afternoon, Wing Commander, Major." F/Sgt Rossman greeted, also saluting, but in a slightly more relaxed manner.
"Afternoon, ladies! You're looking especially pretty in this summer light, Commander." Waltrud said to Minna, a seductive smile on her face.
"Thank you, Flying Officer." the redhead giggled back. She turned to the PCs. PC Group 1 in particular.
"Good afternoon, I am Wing Commander Minna-Dietlinde Wilcke of the 501st JFW. The one to my left is Squadron Leader Mio Sakamoto, also of the 501st JFW."
"You can also call me Major. It's basically the same rank, anyways." Mio added, with a distinctively booming laugh.
"Both of us are Barkhorn's COs. Just as a curiosity, might we ask how our dear Trudy is doing on her first day of command?"
The huge double-doors in front opened, and everyone entered.
Bright wood paneling and painted lines that formed patterns similar to that found on Basketball or Hockey fields, as well as exercise mats; balls; and nets piled in one corner, indicated use as a Gymnasium, but the area also had a stage with curtains at one end. If one looked above, one could also see lighting fixtures and metal catwalks crisscrossing between the roof supports.
There were also folding row upon row of folding chairs, all facing forwards.
The PCs were directed to positions somewhere near the centre of the floor, surrounded by the other Legionnaire formations. Coincidentally, the two PC Groups also happened to be sitting right next to each other.
The room darkened.
IBADVS Version 1.2.1
Now booting...
A logo appeared. It was of twelve planets arranged equally around a circle with a depiction of the starry skies in it. The twelve planets, all of vastly different colours and climates, had arms extending from them. The hands were clearly of different species and races, with the most human-looking arm extending from a planet that was clearly meant to be Earth.
The different arms met in the centre, with the different hands clasping together in an archetypal symbol of unity. The words Coalition for the Defense of the Five Worlds was displayed in a stylised ribbon at the bottom of the insignia.
Then, a voice, which seemed right at the edge of being either a very humanlike artificial voice, or a very crisp and consise human voice, with a slight metallic filter.
Welcome, and thank you all for signing up to be a part of the Fifth World Foreign Legion.
The Fifth World Foreign Legion is a military branch commissioned by top leaders of the Coalition, as a method to stem problems of manpower. The Legion is not fully under the control of any one state or NGO, and is managed by a combination of personeel from across the Coalition.
The Coalition for the Defense of the Five Worlds and, by Extension, the Rest Of The Known Multiverse, also known as just "The Coalition", is a joint alliance between over a dozen nation-states, and nearly a hundred non-governmental organisations spread out over twelve worlds, several dozen orbital colonies, and one pocket universe.
It was formed in IDY (Inter-Dimensional Year) 1920 AW, as a response to growing aggression from the Republic of Mzma, who have already annexed several worlds, and have clearly stated their intention of establishing their theocratic rule over as many as possible, converting all to the worship of their leader: God-Chancellor of Mankind Joseph Shinmaz
Mzma has been known for various atrocities even before the invasion, such as mass genocide and oppression of non-humans, executions on the grounds of religions, and police brutality.
You, as member of the Foreign Legion, shall fight together with us against this brutal and expansionist state.
The benefits of being a Legion member are varied. Firstly, you shall be housed and fed with all costs covered by us. Secondly, you shall be given a monthly paycheck, either given directly or deposited into the bank of your choosing.
Lastly, upon completion of a tour of duty with us (which takes either two years or an early end to the war with Mzma), you will be eligible for citizenship in fifty of the sixty member states in the Coalition, as reward for your services to the Coalition.
And now, let us welcome our main speaker for today, General Field Marshal of the Deutsches Heer, Armed Forces of Karlsland: Generalfeldmarschall Erwin Rommel.
The men and women surrounding the Legionnaires stood up and saluted the man coming in.
"Be thankful that such a distinguished man has given up his time to speak to you." Barkhorn quietly said to her PCs.
Upon taking the podium, the Field Marshal took the time to survey the white-dressed Legionnaires, before speaking.
"Ha. I remember it like it was yesterday. I thought it was the height of lunacy at the time, hearing the proposal of a military branch composed of foreigners from around the Worlds like some kind of State-sanctioned mercenary group. But, believe it or not, the idea does have precedent. The country of Gallia in my world (of which some of you might better recognise by the name France) had an institution known as Gallian Foreign Legion, composed of foreign nationals, and only foreign nationals. They had a certain advantage that no other military branch had. A group of brave men that can be counted on to face the enemy without risking the lives of it's own citizens. In fact, that dress uniform and Kepi you're wearing is copied fold-by-fold from the Old Legion's Summer Dress Uniform.
But surely, you say, there must be a catch. If all one wanted to do was to fight and earn a living from it, why not join n army closer to home? Or some mercenary group?
Well, there is one other thing the Legion can do for you...
If, for any reason, you wish to leave your old life behind and start anew, in a new world if possible, then the Legion can do that for you. A new passport, new birth certificate, new papers. We will even give you a new legal name if you so wish it. It would have been as if the old you never existed."
For one, long moment, his eyes scanned over the seated ranks of the Legionnaires before him.
"The white of your uniforms represents your cleansing. From this point onwards, you are no longer Human, Orc, Elvaan, Dwarven, Demon, Angel, Construct, or Alien. You are no longer German, American, British, Argentinian, Singaporean, Filipino, Erusian, Osean, Fae, Elvaan, Barbarian, Hellspawn, Covenant, Zentradi, Mid-Childan, Federation, Time Lord, Dalek, Sith, Jedi, or whatever else you identified as before this. Until either the day you die or finish your term of service with us, you are all Legionnaires, and you are all brothers and sisters!" that last point was punctuated by a palm slamming on the podium.
The Field Marshall paused once more, looking over the rows upon rows of newly-minted Legionnaires.
"I do not know what force in your World compelled you to join a fight worlds away and beyond the imaginings of most of your old countrymen. But I hope, that if you finally face the enemy, you will fight him or her as if it was your own hometown that was at stake! Hold the line as if the soil yo're standing on was of your motherland! Make them sweat blood and tears for every inch! If not for our sake, then for the pride of the Kepis you are now currently wearing."
As the Marshall paused in his speech, a man in a shirt, jeans and hard hat, who initially seemed like just another civilian contractor, pulled out a handgun, and started firing shots at the Marshal.
He had no success, though. Rommel quickly ducked beneath the podium as soon as he saw the gun.
"ASSASSIN!" someone shouted.
Gunshots rang out, as people, fellow Legionnaires along with other servicemen and women, dropped all around our PCs. Rows of folding chairs were being toppled over by the weight of many dead bodies. There were now several gunmen perched on the catwalks above, raining automatic fire below. Guards and other personnel fired back, causing some number of the gunmen to fall to the floor like swatted flies. Several young women manifested rigging similar to a battleship's, and fired miniature anti-air rounds at the attackers, taking down a few of them. The gunmen were wearing civilian clothing, wearing face-concealing items such as helmets and balaclavas.
On the stage, the Marshall was helped off into the backstage by a soldier. And just in time, too, for the whole stage was then showered with bullets, gouging holes in the wood and tearing holes in the red curtains.
The young, pantsless, COs were already standing up. They now all sprouted animal ears and tails, and were almost unscathed compared to the rest. They were holding up their hands towards the gunmen and, for those with the sense for it, they were emanating magic in large amounts. Normal young women they were not. Blue rune-like circles made of magic sprouted into existence just above them, blocking bullets like raindrops on an umbrella.
Running in from one side of the building, Barkhorn ran up to Patricia and Titus, an MG40 in each hand, and threw one to each of them, before holding up and shielding as many PCs as she can from the incoming gunfire.
She yelled at the PCs. "All those with ranged attacks, return fire! Everyone else, fall back and take cover!"
Rossman was also tossed a Rocket Launcer, a nine-barrelled Fliegerhammer, by someone. Hefting it with an ease that belies her small frame, she shot off nine different rockets that careened into nine different catwalks. About a dozen gunmen (or at least, the bloody bits that made them up) went flying off. There were still more, though.
"What Trudy said!" Waltrud yelled to her unit.
For a moment, Shadow debated using Chaos Spear to return fire, but there was only one way to go about this.
"Chaos... CONTROL!"
In a burst of Chaos energy, Shadow was on the catwalk, fist already making an arc toward the head of one of the gunmen.
SplicedHunter
Archon
Emily was interested by the speach until someone tried to kill the Field Marshall in broad daylight. And this was the third time she was involved in something like this. Once the gunfire started, Emily lept into cover to think of a plan. She still had her sword, so she could at least defend herself. She activated Dark Vision to get a clearer idea of where everyone was, and then used Far Reach to get onto one the catwalks.PC Group 1 & 2 - Indoor Field #2
The two PC Groups slowed down to a stop in front of a building that looked rather like a warehouse. Several other platoons, also clad in the same white dress uniform as our PCs, were waiting around the entrance. But it wasn't just people in the Legion. There were also men and women of many other uniforms, and even a few that looked like civilian workers.
The last two, in particular (the redheaded woman and the woman with the sword and eye patch) approached the PCs.
"Wing Commander, Major, Ma'am! Everyone, salute!" Barkhorn barked, raising her knife hand to her temple in a gesture that have clearly been practiced hundreds of times before.
"Hi Minna! Hi Major Sakamoto!" Erica just waved.
"Good afternoon, Wing Commander, Major." F/Sgt Rossman greeted, also saluting, but in a slightly more relaxed manner.
"Afternoon, ladies! You're looking especially pretty in this summer light, Commander." Waltrud said to Minna, a seductive smile on her face.
"Thank you, Flying Officer." the redhead giggled back. She turned to the PCs. PC Group 1 in particular.
"Good afternoon, I am Wing Commander Minna-Dietlinde Wilcke of the 501st JFW. The one to my left is Squadron Leader Mio Sakamoto, also of the 501st JFW."
"You can also call me Major. It's basically the same rank, anyways." Mio added, with a distinctively booming laugh.
"Both of us are Barkhorn's COs. Just as a curiosity, might we ask how our dear Trudy is doing on her first day of command?"
The huge double-doors in front opened, and everyone entered.
Bright wood paneling and painted lines that formed patterns similar to that found on Basketball or Hockey fields, as well as exercise mats; balls; and nets piled in one corner, indicated use as a Gymnasium, but the area also had a stage with curtains at one end. If one looked above, one could also see lighting fixtures and metal catwalks crisscrossing between the roof supports.
There were also folding row upon row of folding chairs, all facing forwards.
The PCs were directed to positions somewhere near the centre of the floor, surrounded by the other Legionnaire formations. Coincidentally, the two PC Groups also happened to be sitting right next to each other.
The room darkened.
IBADVS Version 1.2.1
Now booting...
A logo appeared. It was of twelve planets arranged equally around a circle with a depiction of the starry skies in it. The twelve planets, all of vastly different colours and climates, had arms extending from them. The hands were clearly of different species and races, with the most human-looking arm extending from a planet that was clearly meant to be Earth.
The different arms met in the centre, with the different hands clasping together in an archetypal symbol of unity. The words Coalition for the Defense of the Five Worlds was displayed in a stylised ribbon at the bottom of the insignia.
Then, a voice, which seemed right at the edge of being either a very humanlike artificial voice, or a very crisp and consise human voice, with a slight metallic filter.
Welcome, and thank you all for signing up to be a part of the Fifth World Foreign Legion.
The Fifth World Foreign Legion is a military branch commissioned by top leaders of the Coalition, as a method to stem problems of manpower. The Legion is not fully under the control of any one state or NGO, and is managed by a combination of personeel from across the Coalition.
The Coalition for the Defense of the Five Worlds and, by Extension, the Rest Of The Known Multiverse, also known as just "The Coalition", is a joint alliance between over a dozen nation-states, and nearly a hundred non-governmental organisations spread out over twelve worlds, several dozen orbital colonies, and one pocket universe.
It was formed in IDY (Inter-Dimensional Year) 1920 AW, as a response to growing aggression from the Republic of Mzma, who have already annexed several worlds, and have clearly stated their intention of establishing their theocratic rule over as many as possible, converting all to the worship of their leader: God-Chancellor of Mankind Joseph Shinmaz
Mzma has been known for various atrocities even before the invasion, such as mass genocide and oppression of non-humans, executions on the grounds of religions, and police brutality.
You, as member of the Foreign Legion, shall fight together with us against this brutal and expansionist state.
The benefits of being a Legion member are varied. Firstly, you shall be housed and fed with all costs covered by us. Secondly, you shall be given a monthly paycheck, either given directly or deposited into the bank of your choosing.
Lastly, upon completion of a tour of duty with us (which takes either two years or an early end to the war with Mzma), you will be eligible for citizenship in fifty of the sixty member states in the Coalition, as reward for your services to the Coalition.
And now, let us welcome our main speaker for today, General Field Marshal of the Deutsches Heer, Armed Forces of Karlsland: Generalfeldmarschall Erwin Rommel.
The men and women surrounding the Legionnaires stood up and saluted the man coming in.
"Be thankful that such a distinguished man has given up his time to speak to you." Barkhorn quietly said to her PCs.
Upon taking the podium, the Field Marshal took the time to survey the white-dressed Legionnaires, before speaking.
"Ha. I remember it like it was yesterday. I thought it was the height of lunacy at the time, hearing the proposal of a military branch composed of foreigners from around the Worlds like some kind of State-sanctioned mercenary group. But, believe it or not, the idea does have precedent. The country of Gallia in my world (of which some of you might better recognise by the name France) had an institution known as Gallian Foreign Legion, composed of foreign nationals, and only foreign nationals. They had a certain advantage that no other military branch had. A group of brave men that can be counted on to face the enemy without risking the lives of it's own citizens. In fact, that dress uniform and Kepi you're wearing is copied fold-by-fold from the Old Legion's Summer Dress Uniform.
But surely, you say, there must be a catch. If all one wanted to do was to fight and earn a living from it, why not join n army closer to home? Or some mercenary group?
Well, there is one other thing the Legion can do for you...
If, for any reason, you wish to leave your old life behind and start anew, in a new world if possible, then the Legion can do that for you. A new passport, new birth certificate, new papers. We will even give you a new legal name if you so wish it. It would have been as if the old you never existed."
For one, long moment, his eyes scanned over the seated ranks of the Legionnaires before him.
"The white of your uniforms represents your cleansing. From this point onwards, you are no longer Human, Orc, Elvaan, Dwarven, Demon, Angel, Construct, or Alien. You are no longer German, American, British, Argentinian, Singaporean, Filipino, Erusian, Osean, Fae, Elvaan, Barbarian, Hellspawn, Covenant, Zentradi, Mid-Childan, Federation, Time Lord, Dalek, Sith, Jedi, or whatever else you identified as before this. Until either the day you die or finish your term of service with us, you are all Legionnaires, and you are all brothers and sisters!" that last point was punctuated by a palm slamming on the podium.
The Field Marshall paused once more, looking over the rows upon rows of newly-minted Legionnaires.
"I do not know what force in your World compelled you to join a fight worlds away and beyond the imaginings of most of your old countrymen. But I hope, that if you finally face the enemy, you will fight him or her as if it was your own hometown that was at stake! Hold the line as if the soil yo're standing on was of your motherland! Make them sweat blood and tears for every inch! If not for our sake, then for the pride of the Kepis you are now currently wearing."
As the Marshall paused in his speech, a man in a shirt, jeans and hard hat, who initially seemed like just another civilian contractor, pulled out a handgun, and started firing shots at the Marshal.
He had no success, though. Rommel quickly ducked beneath the podium as soon as he saw the gun.
"ASSASSIN!" someone shouted.
Gunshots rang out, as people, fellow Legionnaires along with other servicemen and women, dropped all around our PCs. Rows of folding chairs were being toppled over by the weight of many dead bodies. There were now several gunmen perched on the catwalks above, raining automatic fire below. Guards and other personnel fired back, causing some number of the gunmen to fall to the floor like swatted flies. Several young women manifested rigging similar to a battleship's, and fired miniature anti-air rounds at the attackers, taking down a few of them. The gunmen were wearing civilian clothing, wearing face-concealing items such as helmets and balaclavas.
On the stage, the Marshall was helped off into the backstage by a soldier. And just in time, too, for the whole stage was then showered with bullets, gouging holes in the wood and tearing holes in the red curtains.
The young, pantsless, COs were already standing up. They now all sprouted animal ears and tails, and were almost unscathed compared to the rest. They were holding up their hands towards the gunmen and, for those with the sense for it, they were emanating magic in large amounts. Normal young women they were not. Blue rune-like circles made of magic sprouted into existence just above them, blocking bullets like raindrops on an umbrella.
Running in from one side of the building, Barkhorn ran up to Patricia and Titus, an MG40 in each hand, and threw one to each of them, before holding up and shielding as many PCs as she can from the incoming gunfire.
She yelled at the PCs. "All those with ranged attacks, return fire! Everyone else, fall back and take cover!"
Rossman was also tossed a Rocket Launcer, a nine-barrelled Fliegerhammer, by someone. Hefting it with an ease that belies her small frame, she shot off nine different rockets that careened into nine different catwalks. About a dozen gunmen (or at least, the bloody bits that made them up) went flying off. There were still more, though.
"What Trudy said!" Waltrud yelled to her unit.
Dalek Ix
Verified Dalek
"Wait, hold o-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"
362 had just enough presence of mind to land on her feet when she landed on the catwalk, and then turn on the stealth field on her belt and roll away from where she'd been, before the inevitable hail of bullets reached her.
Okay, she told herself as she shakily hauled herself to her feet, still invisible to a good chunk of the electromagnetic spectrum and inaudible amongst the din of bullets, Let's never do that. Ever.
Now... time to get to work.
She stalked towards the nearest gunman and, silent as a knife, leapt onto his back, and hit a pressure point in the back of his neck with one hand, electricity from her tazer gloves making him go down quicker.
Last edited:
Brightflame
Lord of the Dance
- Location
- Inkopolis
PC Group 1 & 2 - Indoor Field #2
The two PC Groups slowed down to a stop in front of a building that looked rather like a warehouse. Several other platoons, also clad in the same white dress uniform as our PCs, were waiting around the entrance. But it wasn't just people in the Legion. There were also men and women of many other uniforms, and even a few that looked like civilian workers.
The last two, in particular (the redheaded woman and the woman with the sword and eye patch) approached the PCs.
"Wing Commander, Major, Ma'am! Everyone, salute!" Barkhorn barked, raising her knife hand to her temple in a gesture that have clearly been practiced hundreds of times before.
"Hi Minna! Hi Major Sakamoto!" Erica just waved.
"Good afternoon, Wing Commander, Major." F/Sgt Rossman greeted, also saluting, but in a slightly more relaxed manner.
"Afternoon, ladies! You're looking especially pretty in this summer light, Commander." Waltrud said to Minna, a seductive smile on her face.
"Thank you, Flying Officer." the redhead giggled back. She turned to the PCs. PC Group 1 in particular.
"Good afternoon, I am Wing Commander Minna-Dietlinde Wilcke of the 501st JFW. The one to my left is Squadron Leader Mio Sakamoto, also of the 501st JFW."
"You can also call me Major. It's basically the same rank, anyways." Mio added, with a distinctively booming laugh.
"Both of us are Barkhorn's COs. Just as a curiosity, might we ask how our dear Trudy is doing on her first day of command?"
The huge double-doors in front opened, and everyone entered.
Bright wood paneling and painted lines that formed patterns similar to that found on Basketball or Hockey fields, as well as exercise mats; balls; and nets piled in one corner, indicated use as a Gymnasium, but the area also had a stage with curtains at one end. If one looked above, one could also see lighting fixtures and metal catwalks crisscrossing between the roof supports.
There were also folding row upon row of folding chairs, all facing forwards.
The PCs were directed to positions somewhere near the centre of the floor, surrounded by the other Legionnaire formations. Coincidentally, the two PC Groups also happened to be sitting right next to each other.
The room darkened.
IBADVS Version 1.2.1
Now booting...
A logo appeared. It was of twelve planets arranged equally around a circle with a depiction of the starry skies in it. The twelve planets, all of vastly different colours and climates, had arms extending from them. The hands were clearly of different species and races, with the most human-looking arm extending from a planet that was clearly meant to be Earth.
The different arms met in the centre, with the different hands clasping together in an archetypal symbol of unity. The words Coalition for the Defense of the Five Worlds was displayed in a stylised ribbon at the bottom of the insignia.
Then, a voice, which seemed right at the edge of being either a very humanlike artificial voice, or a very crisp and consise human voice, with a slight metallic filter.
Welcome, and thank you all for signing up to be a part of the Fifth World Foreign Legion.
The Fifth World Foreign Legion is a military branch commissioned by top leaders of the Coalition, as a method to stem problems of manpower. The Legion is not fully under the control of any one state or NGO, and is managed by a combination of personeel from across the Coalition.
The Coalition for the Defense of the Five Worlds and, by Extension, the Rest Of The Known Multiverse, also known as just "The Coalition", is a joint alliance between over a dozen nation-states, and nearly a hundred non-governmental organisations spread out over twelve worlds, several dozen orbital colonies, and one pocket universe.
It was formed in IDY (Inter-Dimensional Year) 1920 AW, as a response to growing aggression from the Republic of Mzma, who have already annexed several worlds, and have clearly stated their intention of establishing their theocratic rule over as many as possible, converting all to the worship of their leader: God-Chancellor of Mankind Joseph Shinmaz
Mzma has been known for various atrocities even before the invasion, such as mass genocide and oppression of non-humans, executions on the grounds of religions, and police brutality.
You, as member of the Foreign Legion, shall fight together with us against this brutal and expansionist state.
The benefits of being a Legion member are varied. Firstly, you shall be housed and fed with all costs covered by us. Secondly, you shall be given a monthly paycheck, either given directly or deposited into the bank of your choosing.
Lastly, upon completion of a tour of duty with us (which takes either two years or an early end to the war with Mzma), you will be eligible for citizenship in fifty of the sixty member states in the Coalition, as reward for your services to the Coalition.
And now, let us welcome our main speaker for today, General Field Marshal of the Deutsches Heer, Armed Forces of Karlsland: Generalfeldmarschall Erwin Rommel.
The men and women surrounding the Legionnaires stood up and saluted the man coming in.
"Be thankful that such a distinguished man has given up his time to speak to you." Barkhorn quietly said to her PCs.
Upon taking the podium, the Field Marshal took the time to survey the white-dressed Legionnaires, before speaking.
"Ha. I remember it like it was yesterday. I thought it was the height of lunacy at the time, hearing the proposal of a military branch composed of foreigners from around the Worlds like some kind of State-sanctioned mercenary group. But, believe it or not, the idea does have precedent. The country of Gallia in my world (of which some of you might better recognise by the name France) had an institution known as Gallian Foreign Legion, composed of foreign nationals, and only foreign nationals. They had a certain advantage that no other military branch had. A group of brave men that can be counted on to face the enemy without risking the lives of it's own citizens. In fact, that dress uniform and Kepi you're wearing is copied fold-by-fold from the Old Legion's Summer Dress Uniform.
But surely, you say, there must be a catch. If all one wanted to do was to fight and earn a living from it, why not join n army closer to home? Or some mercenary group?
Well, there is one other thing the Legion can do for you...
If, for any reason, you wish to leave your old life behind and start anew, in a new world if possible, then the Legion can do that for you. A new passport, new birth certificate, new papers. We will even give you a new legal name if you so wish it. It would have been as if the old you never existed."
For one, long moment, his eyes scanned over the seated ranks of the Legionnaires before him.
"The white of your uniforms represents your cleansing. From this point onwards, you are no longer Human, Orc, Elvaan, Dwarven, Demon, Angel, Construct, or Alien. You are no longer German, American, British, Argentinian, Singaporean, Filipino, Erusian, Osean, Fae, Elvaan, Barbarian, Hellspawn, Covenant, Zentradi, Mid-Childan, Federation, Time Lord, Dalek, Sith, Jedi, or whatever else you identified as before this. Until either the day you die or finish your term of service with us, you are all Legionnaires, and you are all brothers and sisters!" that last point was punctuated by a palm slamming on the podium.
The Field Marshall paused once more, looking over the rows upon rows of newly-minted Legionnaires.
"I do not know what force in your World compelled you to join a fight worlds away and beyond the imaginings of most of your old countrymen. But I hope, that if you finally face the enemy, you will fight him or her as if it was your own hometown that was at stake! Hold the line as if the soil yo're standing on was of your motherland! Make them sweat blood and tears for every inch! If not for our sake, then for the pride of the Kepis you are now currently wearing."
As the Marshall paused in his speech, a man in a shirt, jeans and hard hat, who initially seemed like just another civilian contractor, pulled out a handgun, and started firing shots at the Marshal.
He had no success, though. Rommel quickly ducked beneath the podium as soon as he saw the gun.
"ASSASSIN!" someone shouted.
Gunshots rang out, as people, fellow Legionnaires along with other servicemen and women, dropped all around our PCs. Rows of folding chairs were being toppled over by the weight of many dead bodies. There were now several gunmen perched on the catwalks above, raining automatic fire below. Guards and other personnel fired back, causing some number of the gunmen to fall to the floor like swatted flies. Several young women manifested rigging similar to a battleship's, and fired miniature anti-air rounds at the attackers, taking down a few of them. The gunmen were wearing civilian clothing, wearing face-concealing items such as helmets and balaclavas.
On the stage, the Marshall was helped off into the backstage by a soldier. And just in time, too, for the whole stage was then showered with bullets, gouging holes in the wood and tearing holes in the red curtains.
The young, pantsless, COs were already standing up. They now all sprouted animal ears and tails, and were almost unscathed compared to the rest. They were holding up their hands towards the gunmen and, for those with the sense for it, they were emanating magic in large amounts. Normal young women they were not. Blue rune-like circles made of magic sprouted into existence just above them, blocking bullets like raindrops on an umbrella.
Running in from one side of the building, Barkhorn ran up to Patricia and Titus, an MG40 in each hand, and threw one to each of them, before holding up and shielding as many PCs as she can from the incoming gunfire.
She yelled at the PCs. "All those with ranged attacks, return fire! Everyone else, fall back and take cover!"
Rossman was also tossed a Rocket Launcer, a nine-barrelled Fliegerhammer, by someone. Hefting it with an ease that belies her small frame, she shot off nine different rockets that careened into nine different catwalks. About a dozen gunmen (or at least, the bloody bits that made them up) went flying off. There were still more, though.
"What Trudy said!" Waltrud yelled to her unit.
Takumi was almost enthralled by the Field Marshal's speech until someone tried to kill him.
Finding the nearest type of cover, Takumi equipped his bow and soon a arrow of blue energy was drawn. Rising from cover, he aimed his bow at the nearest gunmen. "DIE ALREADY!" He yelled as he fired his arrow at the gunmen.
Blackout
Fed By Comments
- Location
- Who knows?
Chara reached for Rachel, to pull her along for a teleport, when the giant with elf ears who had been part of the other group interjected himself and tossed her at the catwalk.
Typical.
Giving the man a murderous glare that showed exactly how much they appreciated his interruption, Chara warped upwards, a bit away from where they had seen Rachel flying towards. She had disappeared from sight, but she had asked for help, and Chara was of a mind to humor the only positive interaction they had had in the Legion so far.
They brought their hand up, flaring with blue magic while gesturing left and right as pulses of gravity pushed soldiers over the railing.
Typical.
Giving the man a murderous glare that showed exactly how much they appreciated his interruption, Chara warped upwards, a bit away from where they had seen Rachel flying towards. She had disappeared from sight, but she had asked for help, and Chara was of a mind to humor the only positive interaction they had had in the Legion so far.
They brought their hand up, flaring with blue magic while gesturing left and right as pulses of gravity pushed soldiers over the railing.