. : INTRO : .

May 7, 20149 min read

Deviation Actions

Published: May 7, 2014

3.6K Views

INTRODUCTION

The dogs started it. They killed Peacemaker Frederica of House -- no. No, wait, the cats. It was the cats that murdered Ambassador Maximus in his own home -- what, Felines? Felines have only ever respected boundaries; Canines, on the other hand, are hypocrites who claim a territory and then encroach on their neighbor's space like they own it. A noble Feline -- ha! Those don’t exist, not when you oh-so-adore getting your filthy paws into places they don’t belong, just because someone told you not to, just because someone had the guts to stand up to your tyranny--

One hundred years is an awfully long time to be at war.

Lines become blurred, the past a muddled mess from fire, vandalism, sabotage -- but anger of the People, it seems, burns forevermore. They started it, but they’ll finish it; the winner will write history as they see fit, and loser, well... the loser gets to “flourish” under the boot of their betters. Like they deserve, after all the trouble they’ve caused. With an incentive like that, does it matter what lengths each side goes to in an attempt to secure victory? Does it matter that there were other species, other races, all wiped out now by a century-long conflict? Does it matter that each government has its own side of the story to impress upon their people, as long as they still fight?

The correct answer is no. No, it doesn’t matter.

All you’re required to do is fight. Kill. Die, if necessary; your life will not be wasted against the enemy. Only spent.

And if you have doubts -- suspicions -- concerns -- cast them aside. Ignore them. Strangle them in their crib. Bury it deep. Times like these, there’s precious few moments to spend ruminating. And if you’re suspected of losing your edge, of being less-than-devoted to the cause, or, gods forbid, being an enemy sympathizer -- you may be... called... into questioning. You won’t like it.

Just do your job. It’s easier that way.

SETTING

Ivadena. Moore. Brighthill. Lucestor... and a dozen more besides. Its names are as conflicted as its people, with some claiming a basis in historical texts (that no one else seems to possess) or religious significance (that no one else seems to claim) or even making a case based on the journals of some far-off ancestor.

...Possibly the only thing that the Cats and Dogs have agreed on in the past few decades was the quiet decision to simply refer to the land they lived on as “The Capital.”

The Capital of what, even the aforementioned groups cannot claim to know, but whatever it was in the past, it will surely become the centre of the future empire the winner of this war will craft. That’s what most choose to assure themselves of. It may simply be the last beacon of recognizable civilization for hundreds of miles, container of the final remnants of once-proud races.

-

For a city that’s a veritable warzone, there are parts of it that remain... remarkably peaceful. There are shopping centres. There are old neighborhoods and large buildings, there are places to walk your pets and there are restaurants that bustle late into the night and there are clubs that toe the curfew lines. There are sections of the Capital that may yet remain free from the battlegrounds of war for years to come.

If only they were all so lucky.

Near the beginning of the war, the Cats and Dogs took it upon themselves to build a wall between their respective territories, which conveniently divided the Capital neatly in half. After nearly one hundred years, much of it is dilapidated and could only loosely be considered a barrier, but the boundaries it marks exist in the hearts and minds of the people on either side of it. Patrols still regularly pace the length of it; occasionally, communities of rejects and other unsavory sorts will crop up in the shadow of the crumbling barricade. Said patrols are given instructions to either ignore or purge them, depending on what sort of mood the upper brass is in, as there is a time to herd the unscrupulous and there is a time when they are an eyesore.

The frequency of the Patrols tends to be enough to deter any sort of daring, lonesome attempts to cross the wall without orders to back the motion and ensures that both Cats and Dogs stick to their side. Even rambunctious children and teenagers learn not to play chicken with the wall sentinels; the dressing-down and shame visited upon the House of trespassers isn’t worth the bragging-rights reward. And for those who make it far enough to be caught by enemy scouts --

...It’s not worth it.

With that in mind, it might surprise the less-experienced to see that, on the surface, the parts of the Capital closest to the wall aren’t as woefully neglected as the structure itself; sure, there’s quite a bit of rubble lying around, and it’s the area most likely to wake up to fighting, but many of the buildings are... new. Nicer than the architecture stationed further away, in many cases; the contrast between clean, freshly-constructed real estate and the occasional body lying around can create a... surreal feeling for those who aren’t used to the atmosphere.

For a short briefing on known History, click here.

Other things to note:

The technology level of Alpha-War would be considered almost modern. Military advancements are more likely to be closer to what we would see now than civilian technology levels. In addition, while these people are intellectually and technologically capable of creating certain items (e.g., automatic weaponry), the strain they would create on resources mean that they are rarely produced, if at all.
Radios are fairly common. Cellphones do not exist.

Vehicles exist, but are as compact as possible (meaning no cars -- motorcycles are about as large as it gets) considered astronomically expensive and a very extravagant luxury item. They are also powered at least partially by sigilmancy.

There is a network of tunnels below the Capital primarily used for storage due to the competition for above-ground land. Every now and again, someone will make a lot of noise about using the tunnels for strategic purposes, but they run into the same problems over and over again, chief among them being that there are no reliable maps of the tunnel network: the tunnels are poorly maintained, structurally unsound because of it, and prone to collapsing. They are also notorious for being... strange, if one goes too deep. Being underground tends to confuse the senses of the scouts, and those who venture too far from the shallower tunnels go missing.
All children registered to a House are required by law to receive schooling as well as give seven years of war-service.
Homeschooling is an option, but Houses are strongly encouraged to educate their offspring at an actual institution.

The minimum age one can finish their testing and begin to serve on the field as a 1 star is fifteen (15).

Upon entry to the school system, children are required to undergo a period of pre-testing to determine their compatibility with the sigilmancy arts and the Operative/Shadow class pair requirements, among other standardized health tests. Students that score particularly high are often subtly guided or pressured into pursuing those courses if they are not already aiming to undertake courses in those areas of expertise.
Citizens over the age of fifteen (15) are required to donate a pint of blood every nine (9) weeks unless they are actively serving.