Chapter 1: The Death of a Snake
"ELLIOTT'S A SNAKE! HOW DOES HE EVEN WALK?"
"SHOULD'VE KILLED HIM WITH THE REST OF THE FILTH!"
"HE DOESN'T DESERVE TO TALK!"
Shout after shout was fired from the crowd with more accuracy than a line regiment's rankers. A crowd, looking now to be more of a mob, had gathered at the town square. With unloaded muskets and pitchforks in hand, they watched as the High Lords of Adminonia brought forth their latest prisoner. Beaten and bloody already, the once-proud kapitan known as Elliott was thrown hard against a brick wall. He was the last in this set of executions; made to watch the deaths of his men prior to his own. But he showed no fear, even in the face of most certain death.
"Elliott! You have been brought here to pay for your crimes against The High Lords of Adminonia and the subjects of our land! You are charged with plotting to kill The Great Vincenzo, upsetting the balance of the admins by slithering around behind their backs, insulting such great beacons of hope in our community like Andee or Admin Getty, and lollygagging. Do you have any words we carry out our sentence?" spoke a boom voice of great power known only as "Thunderstormer".
Elliott moved forward from the wall just slightly to address the crowd better before the firing squad took their position. Before he could speak, glass bottles and rotten fruit and vegetables were thrown at him. This crowd sought justice, and no matter what he said it would fall on deaf ears. Thankfully their accuracy was dreadful and he only took one bottle to the chest while the rest just seemed to friendly fire or hit the air. He had failed the Jaguars on their quest to uncover the truth behind the term "BCoF" and, in turn, cost his remaining men their lives. The whole two of them. His only hope was that he would, at this point, be a martyr for the cause to truly gain traction and not be laughed away as just some crazy guy who thought he was being scammed.
No, Elliott knew his time was up and he just stared at The Thunderstormer. "I guess I should have shown some respect," stated Elliott boldly before moving back to his spot on the wall.
With that, the Thunderstormer motioned for his chosen rankers to move into position in front of the doomed kapitan. With muskets already loaded and bayonets affixed, they took aim towards Elliott. The executioner nodded, and the firing squad opened fire. It took a while for the smoke to clear, but as it did it became certain that every shot had missed. Even at nearly point blank range infantry regiments were still had awful accuracy. Not wanting to wait for another reload and possible misfire, the Thunderstormer drew his pistol and shot Elliott as efficiently as he could.
The deed was done, and the snake had been killed. The mob almost seemed disappointed there wasn't more happening at this execution, so they quickly dispersed back to their daily routine of being unable to handle four directional combat and having to rely on backpedaling to win. With Elliott dealt with, a cackle erupted from the shadows. From these shadows were two figures; the craven Lord Getty and his faithful manservant. He approached the body and spit on it, then hobbled his way back to the dark alley he came from. "At last the snake has been dealt with. In the end, I always win. Ekekekeke." shrieked the timid High Lord. His mortal enemy now dead, nothing could mildly irritate him any longer.
A dark future lay ahead for Adminonia if no other stood. Fortunately, there was another. As if a part of him had been killed, the borderline racist Horselord could only weep as his comrades settled in for the night on the Strangefields. Though hundreds of miles away, the bitter and deranged Swole horseman knew a great injustice had happened this day. He knew he couldn't take on the High Lords himself, so he turned to the great Lord Pepper and said just one word. It was a very offensive racial slur and it had the entire PLG roaring with laughter for a good half an hour.
As the uproar died down, Pepper pat the Horselord on his shoulder. "Akusei, the most precious possession you have in the world is your own people. And for this people, and for the sake of this people, we will struggle and fight, and never slacken, never tire, never lose courage, and never lose faith," Pepper recited for the young Szwol. It was then Akusei knew that he had the forces he needed to avenge his brother (hopefully). They were going to make Adminonia great again, as they were pretty certain line regiments still don't know how to handle cavalry.
With mead and pierogi in their bellies and borderline racist comments in their hearts, they were ready to march on Adminonia for great justice... Eventually. Warsaw had told a pretty funny joke about black people and it would be a while before they could muster full strength without laughing uncontrollably.
Chapter 2: The Last Jaguar
It had been three days since the execution of Elliott. During that time, the PLG had begun rallying forces to sack Adminonia and slay the High Lords. To that end, they did their best to call in any other cavalry regiments still remaining (that they hadn't absorbed or forced to disband), but the only remaining regiment was their bitter rival (well, some would say PLG-lite): Ibsocal's 1LH, the Death's Head Hussars. Ib, too busy surfing gnarly waves and enjoying a vacation aboard the Gnar Gnar Binks, had not heard the call to arms. Until the PLG moved further inland, it looked as though they would have very little support.
In Adminonia, an unlikely supporter of Akusei's cause appeared. Although now a High Lord himself, Stubbs was still a former Guard Jaguar; though no one would have figured otherwise. After a falling out during the Battle of Arabian Harbour, Stubbs took half the regiment and joined forces with some insignificant Danish Marine regiment. Due to this betrayal, Elliott and the remaining Jaguars were forced to retreat back to their now-destroyed compound. In fact, some believe the events of Arabian Harbour to be the reason Elliott was captured in the first place.
But there was still some bond between Elliott and Stubbs it seemed. The former Jaguar had voiced his concerns with the execution quite vocally, going on to say that, at most, Elliott should just have been kept in the dungeons for a couple months to learn some respect. This drew the ire of a few other High Lords, most notable the craven High Lord Getty, who was the most adamant in seeing the snake be killed for his crimes(although Getty wanted the execution to be ironic: he suggested Elliott be stabbed in the back). Having made no leeway in his case to defend his former brother-in-arms, Stubbs retreated to his manor. It wasn't until after he was done brooding that he discovered the execution had already taken place. A part of him felt empty after that loss, as if he was having fun but not having fun anymore.
After putting much thought into it, Stubbs realized he had to strike back against the other High Lords. He wouldn't be able to do some publicly, so he tried to recount the names of any of Elliott's old associates from back in the days of their old marine company. Pepper lead his massive wave of cavalry to the south, but contacting him directly would be political suicide. Heinrich still stood from the skirmisher days, but he had most pressing matters to take care of due to the Eastern Prussians growing unruly. Ghost had disappeared without a trace one day. Well, someone probably got tired of him rambling on about German Panzers and killed him, but that's unknown. Millander, bless his soul, had gone on to become a track running star out to one day run faster than any dumb light horse. Outside of that, the others either died or went on to actually do something with their lives other than wasting their time with a dying community.
It was at that moment Stubbs did have an idea: those who had been beaten down and cast aside by Inquisitor Duuring. Those who dared speak up against the oppressive regime of the Flying Squirrel Inquisition. Their voices had been silenced in the name of justice and keeping a stable platform for shitposting. It would be easier to recruit them than to contact the Polish Horde. The only real problem would be avoiding Xethos and his Oprichniki(which no one was able to fluently pronounce).
But Stubbs was Elliott's Battle Brother. Arming himself with only a cavalry saber, the fallen Jaguar prepared himself for the fight of his life. Sure, all he had to do was spam left attacks to kill anyone, but sometimes it hurt. Even though he was preparing himself as hastily as possibly, Stubbs did bring himself to enter his treasury before exiting the manor. Inside stood many relics of his past, but one in particular stood out to him: an old rifle with "Jaguar" engraved on the side. It didn't offer any tactical advantage, but it still meant something to him. Although he wouldn't bring the rifle with him this time, Stubbs had a feeling it would be important in the near future.
With only a faint idea of where to start looking for The Voiceless, Stubbs burst out of his manor. Under his breathe he muttered,"I'll kill them all, Saltlord. As long as I don't lag..."
