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The Gates of Disorder

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In the days following the retrieval of the Genesar Cornerstone of Space, James Eredas made every effort to researching and understanding its properties.

Embarrassingly enough, the stone resisted all attempts at investigation, just by the sheer stroke that it wouldn't work. James didn't know if this was because he was now outside Genesaris, or if it was because he somehow broke it in the effort of transporting the entirety of the Imperator Bellum, and all Force Majeure forces and allies upon it across the impossible distances of the astral plane to the mortal plane. He was guessing it was mostly the latter. 

A temporary research lab was constructed outside the Dawn Komturie, more of a warehouse containing some of the most advanced magitech and science that the Force Majeure had access to, and under the watchful guns of the Bastion's defensive emplacements. If anything should go wrong in the study, the site could be defended against or obliterated in an instant if things went wrong. And there were too many things that could go wrong. There were tales, stories, records, and documents of all sort of teleportation and space-time phenomenon, of gateways accidentally opened to hellish realms, of the veil weakened and letting ghosts walk among the living, or of corrupted flesh infesting whole areas and making way for an advanced hostile bioform.

So when an intrepid young researcher created a proposal to hook up the space stone to a secure portal set up, to see if they could kick-start it back into action or else be able to harness its power for good, James nearly fired him on the spot. It was only after weeks of other inquiries bearing no fruit, and every safeguard imaginable being put into place, that James would reluctantly give the go ahead for this test.

Inside the brightly lit warehouse, cables ran from a resonance sphere which contained the Genesar Cornerstone of Space. The cables ran into a giant rune-carved gateway that was empowered by sciences unknown to the majority of humanity, combined with magics found only in the most ancient of texts. 


@Twitterpated @Tenkai Matsumoto @Phoebe

The assembled Custodes and Knights watched warily as James gave the order for the experiment to commence. Nobody knew what would happen, or what they would find. But they would not be found ill-prepared.

In a realm so very like theirs, yet so very different, a small, brilliant portal began to appear in reality.

Edited by Fierach

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It was an ordinary day in the Final Bastion. The residents shuffled around the halls of the stone fortress, fulfilling their daily tasks as per usual. Kommandant Kora's boots clicked against the wooden boards of the basement's archive. Filing cabinets filled to the brim with a countless variety of documents surrounded the silver-haired woman as she worked diligently. However, her productive drive was eventually interrupted as the ink press released a scratchy groan. "Out of ink?" Kora scowled as she craned her head to align with the printer's ink barrel. Sure enough, she was met with a barren chamber, that only had dark pigments lazily dripping down its walls. Sighing, the woman exited the archive with hurried steps, eager to resume her task.

"Milk bottles- no. Bamboo.." Her metallic hands traced the label of each parcel in the courtyard. Luckily, the deliveries had arrived fresh in the morning, meaning there was sure to be new ink for the press. Several wooden crates piled up atop a single wagon on the edge of the Bastion's soil. "Here we are." Kora heaved a large canister from one of the crates, swinging it under her arm to better support the heavy container. As the automaton carried the ink across the courtyard, she paused as her sharp eyes caught glimpse of something peculiar. Faint transparent blue shards had gathered and hovered in a mystique fashion in the middle of the open space. Curiously, she stepped closer to it. To her surprise an other-worldly hum became audible, the shards beginning to swirl with smoky blue ribbons that mapped their trails. Golden wisps began to frame the blueness, and that was all Kora saw before she swerved on her heel, rushing to alert Addison of the potential discovery. 

3 hollow knocks sounded out from one side of Addison's office door. "Addison? I'm sorry to intrude, but I think we've got a matter of importance!" She'd deliver 2 more solid hits to the wood.

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The door swung open abruptly and the Master Knight marched out worriedly. She has never heard Kora this alarmed before. Something had to have gone terribly wrong.

What’s the matter?” she implored with concern.

It looks like a portal of some kind,” Addison remarked.

The blue whirling mass has by then expanded to be almost seven feet in diameter. It was far too high for her to reach, and its swirling blue mass obscured any sort of view of whatever was on the other side.

You, boy!” she addressed a nearby castle scribe with great urgency in her voice. “Fetch Marshal Hawk and send a messenger to Jack Howard. Inform him of this at once! And get Master Azelhart up here as well!

She instinctively placed herself between Kora and the bright blob of light levitating nearly ten feet above them, reaching for her belt and detaching the fearsome Harlequin Mask from its clasp. She gripped it tightly, staring with knitted eyebrows at the singularity, which had for no reason, manifested in their world.

@Xoco @Hawk @Jack Howard

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After hours upon hours of waiting for something interesting to occur in the world he was born in, something finally perked up. Howard's new call had came. 

Howard sat in the large admiral cabin of his new flagship, the H.P.S Victory. He sat there in his purple and gold dyed seat in the corner of his cabin still with a monotone face, like a stone amongst pebbles. Usually he was a cheery bloak, playing around with his girl or writing on a long awaited plan to help curve the rough path of humanity but no, he now seemed like a statue. 

The reason this once great man was so downhearted was because of the loss of his first ship, the H.P.S Glory. It may seem unusual to most to see a man be so depressed about an inanimate object but no, the Glory was something different. The Glory was Howard's first ship and the worlds first true Ironclad ship. Over years and years she gained the reputation of a goddess for all of the actions she and her famous admiral committed to the world. In her life span, she sunk a total of 27 ships and captured another 41. Most of these being pirates but a good quarter being a more disciplined force. She went around the great oceans with her identical twin sisters of over 200. She protected the seas and the trade routes under the name of her creator, Jack Howard and his allies. She was unmatched and survived more than any normal ship could. After her great success in just a week of being out to sea a further 90 ships of her build and armoury to the Alphen Navy. The ship itself went through a lot, she survived the 'Great Mutiny of 1859' when Howard ran away from the Alphen port of Port William with all crew and all ships with him. It survived the grand yet short Allied - SSK War, where she lead the way to the battle of Sozopol. After all of this she was proclaimed as the famous Wolf Class, the most powerful ship class in the world, even beating the Bulgarian flagship in power and under the right conditions, speed. All of these reasons are behind to her reputation of being the most powerful ship in the world.

Alas, this great ship was lost on the 18th of October, 1861. It wasn't to the fault of anybody, it was a simple mechanical failure in her boilers that caused her centre engine in bulkhead five to brutally explode, ripping the ship nearly in two before the ship sank by the head. Before she went under, she snapped in half from her cheer weight and sank into the cold depths of the ocean.

She was rescued by a total of 5 nearby ships who had all rushed at their highest speed to get to their sinking sister. The H.P.S Victory and H.P.S Starling were first. Howard himself tried to go down with his ship, but his comrade in arms, Admiral Nelson ensured him that his life was too costly to be lost in such a disaster.
After what had happened before Howard's eyes, he made a vow to himself to not let such a disaster himself. The fleet was currently at this moment in a lockdown stage, one after one each ship of his massive three nation fleet was towed into the dry dock at port Eireen and repaired with an easier to clean engine. This gave Howard a feeling of relief but he still suffered from the terrors he and his crew suffered that night, till one day something he had long awaited turned up.

Howard continued to sit in his gold rich chair. His legs crossed as he leaned over forward, resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he waited for an idea to pop in his head. Nothing, the only thing he heard inside of his head was the sounds of soldiers, sailors and officers alike walking about to their duties outside of his office. So, he remained there, tapping his fingers on the arms of his chair.

Suddenly he heard a very familiar tone with a very unfamiliar sound. The sound of footsteps walking to his door, very familiar, he heard it every hour or so from his officers, a normal tone. However it had a different sound to it, it wasn't the heavy clanking of boots hitting the iron laced floor boards like a hammer, no.. it was light and even leathery. Howard sprung up and straightened his uniform, expecting some sort of weak protester, mailman or politician from C.H.I.R.I. He walked up to the door, his uniform straight and his curvy hair tidied. He opened the door quickly to something he didn't expect.

"Worldwide Admiral, Howard? Sir?" Squeaked a very clearly nervous teenager up to Howard. In his crunched up hand rested a letter, clearly passed from person to person. 

Howard looked straight, awaiting a person around his height to talk to him. He slowly looked down with a slightly confused face to see the about 15 year old boy. Howard, understanding how nervous this young lad was probably feeling, he reached his hand down for a gently handshake, hoping to calm him down.

The boy shook Howard's hand slowly, passing over the now worn out letter to him before turning away without a word, feeling embarrassed thinking he had done something wrong.

Howard took his hand away and embrassed the letter with both of his hands. The first thing he noticed was was a signature from an old ally, Addison. No last name, just Addison. Howard looked to the boy and slipped a Gold Coin worth 100 silver in his pocket. Howard chuckled at the boys ignorance of what had just happened and shut the door behind him as he walked back into his office.

"Worldwide Admiral, Jack Howard. Come to the bastion as soon as you can, this is of utmost importance. Addison."

Howard stood still at the short letter, his eyes fixated on the handwriting he suspected something had happened to the bastion. 'The Duck' may of attacked and is now slaughtering the people, C.H.I.R.I is murdering the magic population. Howard got urgent and ran outside, sprinting past the boy and up to the centre of the ship. Attention from the crew surrounded him.

At the top of his lungs Howard roared to his crew order after order to set sail.

"Ring all to arms!"
"Man the capstan! Bring up the anchors!"

"Unfurl the main, mizzen and fore sails!"
"Engines to full! All to Full Ahead!"
"Mr. Light! Signal an immediate tow from the trade line control fleet!"
"Admiral! Set a course for Port Barrett!"

These commands rung through the ship and through every pair of ears among the crew. 
The ships bell rang, calling all crew to attention.
The two great anchors were brought up from the dock floor.
The main, mizzen and fore sails were all released, preparing the ship for sail.
The massive engines of the great Wolf Class started roaring, ready to sprint for the Bastion.
A string of lights was sent to a nearby tug boat, which sailed over alongside the Victory and towed her away from the other ships within the port.

Under the final port, the Victory sailed out of Eireen for Port Barret. 


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Douglas stood motionless outside on his office balcony, letting the wind ripple past him, his coattails flapping around aimlessly behind. His glasses, immaculately clean as always, were assaulted by the Bastion's winds, the sea's salty-sweet gale battling his stoic figure. Unable to topple the man, the wind wrapped around him and into his office, his papers flung in random directions, guided by the sea's breath. Reports, drafts, notices and the like floated through the air, some landing in the flames of his fireplace, some out of his window. The only thing that remained was his resignation, pinned down by an antique coin, a souvenir of his travels in this world. He'd experienced it all - or at least, all that was achievable in the world in his shoes, having travelled to damn near every corner of the world.

Boredom had yet again settled within Douglas' head, an emotion that has fueled the scholar's proudest achievements, propelling him to his current standing. A persistent feeling that Douglas resented, for it was the consequence of his ever-changing philosophies of satisfaction. His notebook sat snugly in his left hand, while his right held a pen, the ink gliding across pages, detailing his resignation and his reasons, when suddenly Douglas heard footsteps echoing from the corridor beyond his office.

Demands to be left alone were ferociously protested against by the scribe, and eventually the advisor caved, pocketing the resignation and stepping outside. Cane in hand, he followed the young boy to Master Knight Addison.

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A bright and sunny early afternoon shone itself upon the industrial port of Barrett. The wind blew gently through the fresh streets of the newly born port. Another marvel of the Three Nation Fleet.

Recently being built for the Three Nation Fleet not many months prior to the sinking of the H.P.S Glory its bright white concrete houses and metallic factories hadn't seen the terrors of war and only served to expand as an outpost for the Three Nation Fleet and of course as a better opportunity for the Bastion due to its modern structure when compared to the Bastions old port which was wooden and rotten when this port was metallic and clean. 

Out to sea, a familiar sound rang through the short waves of the vast blue ocean. The sound was loud like a factory and repeated like the banging of a hammer. The familiarity was caused by the location of the repeating tune.

The brutal and loud banging of the massive pistons from the boilers of a very famous object rippled around a tall and long black object. The object stood up tall above the waves slicing by the objects pointed front which was ripping clean through the water like a knife through butter. The object was long and in a very rectangular shape. From a birds eye view it looked like a thick pencil being pushed on a desk. To the rear the waves seemed to dip down and form massive waves flowing backward and out the back with the movement of the sea. The object seemed feared, boats and rafts around it seemed to flee at its presence or where they making way for a king? It seemed a bit like a king, a king with three massive golden sabres pointing in the air with two golden cigars. It wasn't feared among the community of the port and the Bastion but it was feared among criminals and pirates and was not seen as a king from criminals and pirates but it was seen as a king from the community of the port and Bastion? From its visuals and description it became obvious to all what it was. 

A long black hull. Massive waves forming around her double propellers. Three tall golden masts with two massive golden smoke funnels. Beautiful white sails with a sharp bow and curved stern.

The H.P.S Victory of the Wolf Class & Howardonian Privateer Fleet had arrived in Barret.

See the source image

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Field Marshal Ryder Hawk, Military Director of the Final Bastion walked the long quiet halls of the fortress on his way back to his quarters. The Marshal was tired, still paranoid over the destruction of his former Nation of Atlas. Merely hours prior Hawk had finally returned from his relief efforts in the mining capital of Atlas, Estrella. His Atlesian uniform was dirty and worn having been the only article of clothing he had for months, for the rest of his clothes on hand had been given to refugees. Hawk's thoughts were sharply interrupted as he stopped abruptly at the sound of urgent footsteps growing louder and louder from his six. 

"Marshal Hawk!" The scribe sent by the Master Knight called out as he rounded the corner behind him.  

Hawk spun around on his heel quickly, as the urgency in the scribes voice already began to concern him. 

"What is it?" Hawk replied quickly as he moved forward to meet the boy half way. 

"Lady Addison requires your presence. I-I think its an emergency!" The scribe blurted while doubling over from exhaustion. 

Hawk didn't bother wasting time replying, instead he took off down the hall in the direction the scribe had came. His heavy boots pounded against the wood flooring as turned the corner to be greeted by the stairs of the fortress above. The bolt action rifle on the soldiers back bounced up and down in its place as he made his ascent of the staircase to locate Addison. Hawk's heart-rate began to pick up as he power walked faster and faster, for he could simply not allow emergencies here. Not with his family around. 


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The assembled group consisting of several of the Bastion's leaders as well as their elite bodyguards stared in anticipation and confusion at the blue orb of light which had been conjured in the middle of their fortress.

"Should we send someone in?" one of the soldiers suggested. A naive suggestion which Addison shot down immediately. Anyone who had been to an alternate dimension would know of the incomprehensible horrors which could await. Thus, she knew certainly that Hawk would be clenching his fists at the stupidity of the request.

"Think it's Soloman's?" Addison voiced out to the seasoned Marshal, her brows knitted together in concern. @Hawk


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With his hand cautiously on the handle of his revolver, Hawk's gaze pierced into orb as he joined Addison at her side.  

"Could be. Though it ain't likely. My guess is," The Marshal paused, as if he was giving his words a second thought. 

"Is those bastard trees that destroyed Herograd." He hissed. The though of such a thing happening here sickened Hawk to his core.


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Outside the fortress in the dense forest, a knight hid himself from the watchmen on the walls.  This was an easy feat due to most of the guard being roused to the sudden appearance of the portal.  The appearance he had sensed.  Arcane energy had become like an overpowering odor to the knight, allowing him to track it vigorously from long distances.  He kept himself low and silent, watching for a lapse in the guards so that he could enter further into the fortress and closer to the great power he detected, and planned to take.

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Addison nodded, wide eyed.

You think Esstevan could be on the other side? What if this is him? What if by some miracle, he’s managed to survive or send a signal or some sort?

She turned to the nearest maid, which just so happened to be Grace ( @Mackenzie Rose ).

Fetch Ewyer, Irryn and- scratch that. Get Brighto- Just get everyone!” her eyes were wide with anxiety. If Esstevan was really behind that portal, they had to get to him. It had been four years since they had lost him in the accident, and the world had since gone to shit in his absence.

@HellstenNacht @Peter @Shanty 

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The young maiden was surprised by the sudden jolt as Addison looked be wilder-ed by something though Grace didn't quite understand what was going on.

"Of cause M'lday."

Still as ever confused Grace Harlock would walk away calling out to the lords and ladies of the household.

"Mr Irryn! Mr Ewyer! Anyone that can hear me! Lady Addison wishes to see you all."

Her sweet call would travel around the Bastion as the maid would contemplate if her frying pan would be needed.

@Phoebe @Peter @HellstenNacht

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Posted (edited)

Meanwhile, someone else had also taken notice of the portal's activation, but he didn't think it would cause him much trouble back in the mainland. He didn't even know where it led to.

Thus, when new minor trials began, he did not mind going on a small, but mobile aircraft carrier, alongside two frigate and two destroyer escorts, despite it being a fairly small one, only carrying around 30-40 planes; nowhere near the capacity of some others that were more akin to capital ships, and were slower, but packed a massive punch. Then, as the first flights were prepared to go, needing barely minutes before the electromagnetic catapult takeoff, something happened.

It seems that due to a small malfunction, the carrier's Travel Gate activated, and because of the portal's presence, this travel gate immediately locked onto the end location, and quickly sent the carrier on it's way to that location.

He, in a panic, alerted the crew, but he could only tell them of what had happened, not having the power to reverse the effect.

'To all the crew of the Georgi(Geo) Milev aircraft carrier, we have suffered an unexpected malfunction and the Travel Gate has activated, teleporting us to an unknown location, at least at the moment. Please standby and await further instructions, for what we will be facing could well be from deserted beaches and seas to hell itself. Again, we are sorry for the inconvenience and we will update you as we obtain information. Thank you for understanding.'

Then, around 10-15 minutes later, the Travel Gate finally finished teleporting them to the world where the malfunction had led them to. As he was on the flight deck himself, looking, he noticed something peculiar. The houses there were built of the same style as on mainland, and there was an abandoned tower that had a Samari Flag on it, with the coat of arms. Even after so many years, it was still there and recognizable.

At that moment, Khan rushed back to the intercom and said:

'Men of Geo Milev, I have news that may or may not come across as great. We are in the abandoned colony of the SSU, 1860-1861, next to a port close to the major port of Stari Sozopol, which is where we will land, and make our way to the major port to dock, establish supply, and go inland. However, many of you know that in the battle of 1860, the colonial armies were beaten by another navy. As such, we cannot expect a peaceful return, nor peaceful seas. Thus, I will head a scouting mission with several of our planes to gather data and decide our next action. Godspeed, and stay safe, and remember: No foreigner is welcome close to our navy.'

Thus, Khan hastily prepared for takeoff along with 4 other brave pilots in 4 other planes. Within about 10 minutes, they were in the skies. They had a balanced load of weaponry, though they were not fully stocked to their limit, each plane only carrying 2 Air-to-Air Missiles, 6 Air-to-Ground Missiles and 2(4 for Khan) Air-to-Ship Missiles, alongside other standard gear.

They were 5 MiG-29/35 'Super Mikoyan Mod.2's. The first 4 were regular versions, with standard insignias: The Tri-color Circle with the Red Star, and the Black 'X', in standard camouflage. The only peculiar thing about them was their inscription: 'Mikoyan Warriors'

The Fifth MiG, though, the one Khan was in, was a bit more colourful, as he was squadron commander whenever he flew with a squadron, no matter the others' ranking. His MiG not only had those prior insignias, but a bright Tri-Color Flag, the Samari Flag with the Coat of Arms(same as tower), and the inscription: People's Republic of Bulgaria. 

After some time flying, they had reached the Bastion, which they thought would be the likely place people would be in. As they did, they changed their formation a bit, so Khan's place was at the front and a fair distance away from the others. 

They first passed right above Port Barrett, in and were quite close to the ground, though not too close. That said, one could not remark they were in high-altitude flight; they were very much low-altitude, and thanks to some radars onboard the planes, they knew what was there: A fleet of Wolf Class ships, and infact, the wolf class was in the register for identified targets long before the misfortune; they were put by Khan personally incase they were ever met again, which was clearly happening now. During their low flight, even their inscriptions were readable.

Regardless, they went over the navy in their sharper V-Shape formation and the fairly loud jet engines were very much audible to everyone on the ground. Then, after they had passed through the port, very much seen and heard, they made their way to Bastion itself, flying low altitude and with that inscription still readable, also flying over it for a bit before flying away from the castle, though still within distance. Was this an attempt to seek a place to land, or a preparation for an aggressive attack run?

/OOC: Khan was very much involved in Bastion, so his participance in the event is totally justified. And while theoretically I could use the 1860's stuff, I don't want to get overly complicated lorekeeping duties, so for now, this is what ya get./

@Jack Howard @Phoebe @like everyone else in bastion 

Edited by Agent Knockout

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Posted (edited)

The call of the rams towards the center of the fortress proved both a perfect storm and a nee problem as the armored man snuck further into the now quieter outer halls of the castle,  his leather booted footsteps making almost no noise to alert.  While casting the area his mind wandered to what exactically the energy might hold for him, and why they would withdraw their guard so perfectly.  

Edited by MaskedHero

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Posted (edited)

f1578238385bee6b7ef3b58ebd8a3597.jpg"Nine hundred ninety eight..."

One thing that had never changed about Jinsoku, was his need to physically express himself when made anxious. While this blight had stricken him twice now, he had once again recovered from the ridiculous ballooning of his muscles. Still, even now on the verge of testing the Cornerstone acquired by the master himself; The verge of trying to bridge this realm to another. While this was a far cry from what he endured venturing to Bel'shir, the fact of saving people from another world was something that brought grief back unto the Knight. Thus, here he was, hammering out rep after rep as a way to cope with his anxiety. 

"Nine hundred ninety nine..."

His sweat pooled beneath him, his smaller muscles still quite brawny from his height of 5'6". It couldn't be helped. So long as he wasn't so large as to sacrifice his mobility, he'd continue to train so rigorously. After all, "In this world, the only thing we truly own...Is the body we shape every day". While some could hear him count and think he was about finished, this was hardly the beginning of his regiment of push-ups. 10,000. That was the desired goal of his repetitions. Alas, a familiar voice spoke within him, his stomach vibrating for a brief moment as to warn him the voice was coming. As if he couldn't predict it coming by now. 'You're going to be late.'

"One thousand." 

'Shit'he cursed mentally as he rose to his feet and actually checked the time. With haste he moved throughout the barracks and made way to shower. He had to freshen up and quickly as possible if he didn't want to miss the entire even. After bathing he wasted no time getting dressed in a rather plain T-Shirt and a pair of denim jeans. Sliding on a pair of socks followed by a pair of all black high top chucks, Jinsoku raced through the halls and corridors. Though they knew they didn't have too, the familiar folks of the bastion often made it easy for Jin these days by opening his path whenever they seen him sprinting like this with purpose. Slapping his red lens pilot shades on, his still wet hair bounced freely and unkempt as he rapidly approached his destination.

By the time he arrived, the portal was already seemingly stable and operational, though he had yet to notice anything out of the ordinary. Silently, he stepped closer, ultimately stopping at the forefront of the the small crowd safely watching the portal as in front of it as he could safely be. His thickly muscled arms folded over his chest, a smirk forming on his face as he controlled his breathing. A growl resounded in his mind as his stomach vibrated once more. 'Easy, Rei.'


Edited by Twitterpated

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