Follow TV Tropes
Yes, this is a spin-off of the SVN game.
This is in the alternate 1953, where the New Roman Empire controls Italy, Spain, and Greece as per their agreement with the Third Reich. The Americans and the Fae British are now making a planned assault to re-take Gibraltar...
(Same continuity as SVN?)
Beneath the waters off Gibraltar, something lurks.
edited 1st Jul '10 1:08:12 PM by Chabal2
same question as Chabal.
-observing the Bay of Gibraltar from a destroyer moored outside of Axis range, chomping on an unlit cigar-
-in the voice of Ed Asner- This is gonna be tough.
edited 1st Jul '10 1:14:35 PM by SullenFrog
Confirmed. This takes place at roughly the same time as the fight with the Elves back near Stalingrad. This will involve American soldiers making use of the Free Masons' mystical powers, as well as American weaponry and tenacity; The British will also be here, a mix of human and Fae. Monarchists and Francoists may serve as La Résistance. The New Roman Empire... Well, you'll see what they can do.
Joining as one of the Brits.
-An American Admiral strides across the deck, grave-faced, one hand a Masonic prosthesis; he stops next to the Asner lookalike, staring out at the Rock-
Admiral Michael Suther: Are your men ready?
Damn straight they are. How's the planning going for the push to Stalingrad?
-looks over at the Englishman-
AMS: Your boys got over there in time, and the War Mason says he's got the stuff in limbo. With a bit of luck, if it's discharged right, those Romans won't know what hit them. -gestures toward the bridge- Radio! Have we got Frank's signal?
I believe that this strike on two fronts should destabilise their war effort; with luck, they may collapse with little struggle.
-holds rapier's hilt absent-mindedly-
It better. My men and I are itching for a chance to put the hurt on these Axis punks for what they did to Pearl Harbor and New York.
-cradles a very large handgun covered with Masonic signage-
AMS: First, we take this Rock. Next we take back Granada. The Spaniards know what to do after that. -Looks back to the radio operator, who gives a thumbs-up-
ALRIGHT! First Company Marines, get to your square!
-Looks to a man wearing Army fatigues, but with the Masonic symbol on his left shoulder- Commence Operation Reconquista.
-smiles, and holsters the gun-
Hell, it's about time.
-ignites his cigar, then turns around to face the crew of a nearby landing boat-
Reconquista is a go! Masonites, Move Out!
-The Freemasons chant a few words into microphones, and a gap forms in the clouds above the Rock; the marines march onto a large square inscribed with Zodiacal symbols, vanishing with a brief pulse of light-
-quick as a flash, the man whips out his rapier, which glints coldly in the sunlight-
Royal Marines! Prepare for disembarkation!
Not sure how to get more of a Fae flavour...
-Moving along the seafloor, ever closer to the ship, something approaches silently, undetected.-
(Need to leave soon. Is it friend or is it foe? We shall see...)
Oh, you'll get your opportunity...
-There is a flash of lightning from the peak of the Rock, lancing the clouds, but to no avail; aircraft, tanks, and bodies come down in a grisly and lethal deluge upon the Roman positions, as well as the cruiser stationed on the other side; once the barrage is finished, there is another flash on the shore of the island, and the marines are deployed-
Go, Go, Go!
-runs forward at a crouch and takes cover behind a rocky outcropping-
Washington Squad, take point! Lincoln Squad, provide cover fire for Washington!
-From the trees and brush, furry creatures watch this spectacle with pale eyes, truncheons tapping against their knuckles-
-points at the trees-
Jefferson Squad, climb up there and assume sniping positions! I don't want anything getting the drop on us!
-a pair of insect-like wings sprout from his back. The same happens with the rest of the Royal Marines. They then fly into the air and join the Freemasons-
Wonderful job so far, wouldn't you say?
Yeah, but it only just started, Tinkerbell. All sorts of things can still go wrong. Where is my communicatiosn specialist?!
-a painfully thin man runs up-
Establish a channel with the Theatre Commanders.
-And then, the horde of berserk Barbary Macaques descends-
I resent that remark, rock-for-brains. Men, please deal with these animals. By the way, I am Sergeant Lewis Rotham.
-some of the Marines draw rapiers like Sergeant Rotham, while others fire ornately decorated blunderbusses-
-Jefferson squad, caught unawares by the baboons, is quickly torn apart-
Contact at beach head! Moving out! -to comms specialist- Get down, you little twig!
-fires at the baboons, his gun spewing beams of scintillating energy rather than bullets-
-the rock apes brandish their cudgels, teeth bared; up on the far distant fortress, an officer of sculpted Mediterranean features watches the skirmish without the aid of binoculars, a faint smirk on his lips-
???: Send forth the armoured century.
Community Showcase More
How well does it match the trope?