A tale of men who've found themselves in a strange land, the reason, a promise now a decade old, and made by a dead man. There is now nothing to lose and everything to gain. Their goal simply to make a home. Their new nation, defined by betrayal, war, power and the mysticism of a time lost. Surrounded by enemies, trusting few, and earning their place at the cost of the blood they spill, this is the story of the Knights of Shangri-La.
Howdy, I'm Falls. A brief introduction. It's the week before finals and I figured this'd be the best time to start an AAR. I'll probably only hangout here and try and keep this up, but yeah what's goin' on guys? This AAR for a good amount of time is simply going to be a little ol'story about a country in KR with some bones but no flesh. A history post or two will come in full after this one, but after that it'll be an anarchists wet dream of organization. Posts'll be irregular in style and timing, possibly far and few or right up on each other depending on such factors as motivation, time and interest. My writing is also a bit rusty so please bear with it. Regardless I hope you guys enjoy the tale!
Oh also if anyone could point me in the right direction on how to make custom ministers/generals/events it'd be most appreciated.
Howdy, I'm Falls. A brief introduction. It's the week before finals and I figured this'd be the best time to start an AAR. I'll probably only hangout here and try and keep this up, but yeah what's goin' on guys? This AAR for a good amount of time is simply going to be a little ol'story about a country in KR with some bones but no flesh. A history post or two will come in full after this one, but after that it'll be an anarchists wet dream of organization. Posts'll be irregular in style and timing, possibly far and few or right up on each other depending on such factors as motivation, time and interest. My writing is also a bit rusty so please bear with it. Regardless I hope you guys enjoy the tale!
Oh also if anyone could point me in the right direction on how to make custom ministers/generals/events it'd be most appreciated.
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Home.
Kuzma blinked, looked to Putelkin on his left, then to The General Long, to the aide Tenzin, and then simply shrugged. Putelkin's eyes darted and the Tibetan quietly shuddered, Kuzma and The General met eyes. The Warlord, the Cloud Dragon, smiled and placed a hand on Kuzma's shoulder. The General pointed to Putelkin, Tenzin translated.
"The General likes your friend," Said Tenzin, "He admires his humility."
Putelkin smiled, "It is something we all aspire to be, humble, no?"
"I'd say I disagree to that brother," Said Kuzma with a smile "Humility seems... uncommon in these times."
Tenzin translated to The General the observation, and smiling as he listened,
"Rare things tend to be valuable." Tenzin translated, the General took his hand from Kuzma's shoulder, "And I will take what I can get much the same. He says, make this place your home. He will send for you in the morning."
When Tenzin finished The General simply turned and began back towards his motorcade. The Tibetan smiled and saluted the two Russians, who returned the gesture and then watched as the aide ran to catch up with his superior. They stayed at attention and watched as the cars left one by one, The General tipped his hat and nodded in their direction as they pulled away and down the road.
The dust from the convoy having settled, the two turned to truly admire their gift. A three storied mansion built in colonial style, boasting a fresh coat of paint and in possession of a wondrous view over the grand lake Dian. Kuzma looked to Putelkin who now wore a grin stretching from ear to ear and exclaimed, "Come here brother!"
They embraced, "We've made it now, brother! We've made it now! By god we've made it!" They danced in a circle, hugged again, danced once more, then proceeded to dust themselves off and light their respective cigarettes. They stared for a moment and admired.
"Inside?" Kuzma asked.
"You first," Replied Putelkin.
Kuzma took a stepped forward, "Shall I send for... everyone?"
"Exactly what I was thinking."
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I am Kuzma von Zeitz, but most just call me Kuzma. I was born 1898, I fought in the Weltkrieg with distinction, I survived the Long March of the III Corp, The Sino Wars and I went on to become the head the head of the YSS. My name is known to those who know it, but I cannot say I was ever famous, or that our work was ever truly acknowledged except by those who could.That day, the day with the mansion, was January 3rd, 1936. We cite this day as the day Order of Shangri-La was born. Proposed by one Lieutenant Anders Durrant, a British exile, after he had climbed upon a table and fired his pistol into the ceiling. Upon finishing he managed to successfully produce a resounding applause and a subsequent rifle salute in the back garden. The drunken proclamation served as a call of unity and family between these fighting men of the utmost quality. It was bold, heartfelt, and all too real. It brought soldier and whore alike to tears and jeers. A German Lieutenant, Otto Fischer, hollered so hard in agreement he fainted. We raised our glasses and barreled on through the night, wishing the next morning we could remember just what exactly was said. We all know it was said. For the rest of all our lives, we simply knew we were members of a most prestigious and honorable order. I've come to meet men in the present, that day ages past, and it would always be as if we'd picked up from where ever we had left off. The trust and comradely between this group of men and women, native and foreign, old and young, would prove itself unbreakable.
Before sleeping that night, I remember sitting with Putelkin and a whore on the front steps, the three of us nostalgic of our motherland. That night was the first night I could speak of it without feeling that intense pain that would usually come. The woman and Putelkin both agreed.
"I know some words on this topic," The girl said "Home is where the heart is."
Me and Putelkin had told her we'd heard it before, and the conversation moved on, but in hindsight I believe what she'd told us was strikingly relevant to the night and what we'd consciously or unconsciously learned. Our hearts were no longer in Russia, rather they were somewhere else I had figured. Our hearts then must be somewhere, and I'd come to the conclusion I came to was simple. Yunnan. The General had succeeded, he had, but mostly we had, made the place our home. And a home is something truly worth fighting for. And we would all have to test this feeling in a couple months time, with blood and steel. As was the way.
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It is nice to have company in Asian AARs