Tales from the Corlan Highlands

This thread will host stories and firsthand accounts of events in the Conflict Region of Esserix. For more about the conflict visit this link.



Amidst the chaos and the deafening roar of gunfire, Corporal Kase Holder found himself in a desperate struggle for survival. Bullets whizzed past him with deadly precision as he dashed across a plaza towards his platoon. The rebels had turned City Hall into a fortress, and the plaza was a killing ground. But he had to cross it to reach cover, and he had to reach it fast. Just as he made it to the stone wall where the rest of his platoon had sought refuge, a haunting whistling sound filled the air. The world seemed to slow down as a mortar shell exploded overhead, raining down shrapnel and destruction. The platoon was instantly thrown into chaos, cries of agony filling the air. Bravo squad took the brunt of the blast, losing three of their own and leaving four others critically wounded.
The platoon was trapped, pinned down by relentless enemy fire. The rebels had taken innocent civilians hostage in City Hall, using them as human shields to use Federation artillery regulations against them. It was a calculated move that left the platoon with limited options. Their escape routes were cut off, and the enemy was closing in. Corlaani forces, equipped with mounted heavy machine guns on pickup trucks, were outmaneuvering the Federation armored vehicles. The Platoon Leader knew they had to fight to the last man, but he also had to find a way out. As the enemy advanced, the platoon seized a moment of respite when the machine gun fire momentarily ceased. The soldiers threw smoke grenades, shrouding their movements from City Hall, and managed to relocate to a blown-out storefront down a side street.
Inside the shattered building, they prepared for a desperate last stand. The rebels closed in, and the platoon readied their weapons. Corporal Holder shouldered a FW-7, a standard Federation anti-armor rocket launcher, and took aim at the nearest mounted gun. The rocket soared through the air, obliterating the enemy’s vehicle in a fiery explosion. But there was no time to bask in the success, as the rebels on the right flank opened fire, forcing him to take cover once again. Determined not to back down, he crawled to another firing position and took aim again. Another rocket tore through the air, finding its mark with deadly precision. The second pickup erupted in flames, leaving the remaining rebels scrambling for cover. The platoon’s fearless soldiers held their ground, showing no signs of retreat. With fierce determination, they fought for each other and for the innocent lives caught in the crossfire. The battle raged on, and the fate of the platoon hung in the balance. As bullets flew and explosions echoed through the streets, Corporal Holder and his comrades stood firm, ready to face whatever came their way. In the heart of the city, their courage and resolve would be tested like never before.
As the smoke cleared, Corporal Holder and his platoon knew they couldn’t stay in the store forever. Their position was precarious, and the rebels were regrouping for another assault. Time was running out, and they needed a plan. Amidst the chaos, a fellow soldier spotted a narrow alleyway leading to the back of the building. It was a risky move, but it offered a chance to outflank the enemy and find a more defensible position. The Platoon Leader quickly made the call, and the soldiers cautiously began their retreat through the alley. It was a tight fit, and nerves were frayed as they crept through the shadows, expecting an ambush at any moment. Every step felt like an eternity, but the platoon pressed forward. As they emerged onto a parallel street, they found themselves facing a group of Corlaani rebels who had been caught off guard by the unexpected maneuver. The element of surprise was now on the platoon’s side. With adrenaline pumping through their veins, they unleashed a torrent of gunfire, sending the rebels scrambling for cover.
In the midst of the heated firefight, Corporal Holder spotted an abandoned building nearby that offered potential cover and a strategic vantage point. With hand signals and quick thinking, he relayed the plan to the rest of the platoon. Together, they made a mad dash for the building, avoiding enemy fire by mere centimeters. Once inside, they set up defensive positions, ready to repel any counterattack. Their quick thinking had given them a temporary advantage, but the fight was far from over. The rebels weren’t about to back down, and the platoon knew they had to hold their ground while the rest of the company established a forward operating base of the outskirts of the city. Hours passed, with the sound of gunfire and explosions echoing through the city streets. The platoon held firm, fighting with unparalleled bravery and resilience. Every member knew the stakes were high, not just for themselves but for the entire Federation. They were fighting not just for survival, but for justice, for the innocent lives lost, and for a chance to end the cycle of violence in the Conflict Region. As the sun began to rise, signaling the start of a new day, the platoon’s ammunition was running low, and their bodies were exhausted. Yet their resolve remained unbroken, their spirit unwaivered.
The situation remained tense, but word reached them that reinforcements were on their way. Federation troops were advancing from the outskirts of Caeloria, pushing back the enemy and slowly gaining control of the city. With renewed hope, the platoon continued to hold their ground, providing crucial cover for the incoming reinforcements. The enemy’s resistance began to wane as the Federation’s might bore down upon them. As the last Corlaani rebels retreated, the platoon breathed a collective sigh of relief. The battle had been fierce, but they had emerged victorious. Their unwavering courage had turned the tide in this part of the Conflict Region. The Chief of Staff of the Federation Armed Forces, informed of their valiant stand, later praised Corporal Holder and his platoon for their exceptional bravery and tactical prowess. Honoring them with the Federation Cross for outstanding performance in the face of mortal danger. It was a battle that would forever be etched in their memories, a testament to the indomitable spirit of Federation soldiers in the face of adversity. The conflict in the City of Caeloria was far from over, but for now, they had secured a crucial victory gaining a foothold in the South of the city. As the platoon looked out over the city they had fought so hard to liberate, they knew that their struggle was not in vain. They had proven that even in the darkest of times, the light of courage and determination could shine through. But there was darkness still yet to purge.


Ukiskerius Heist

CW: Gun Violence

The night was as silent as a graveyard, and the road from Ukishkerus seemed to stretch infinitely into darkness. I maneuvered the massive nuclear waste truck along the winding path, my eyes glancing at the rearview mirror to catch a glimpse of the precious cargo I carried. Spent rods of Uranium-235, a ticking reminder of the responsibilities entrusted to me. My name is Mike, and for years, I had transported radioactive materials for the Federation. The night air was heavy with a sense of foreboding, but I pushed aside any unease, attributing it to the weight of responsibility that came with the job. As the truck neared a deserted stretch of road, my instincts alerted me to an unusual glint of light in the distance. My heart pounded in my chest as I realized that something was amiss. Panic washed over me as I tried to radio for help, but before I could utter a word, a deafening explosion pierced the night, shattering the peace I once knew.

The blinding light revealed masked figures surrounding the truck, their faces hidden in shadows. Fear paralyzed me as I saw the glint of firearms aimed at my companions and me.

“Out of the truck, now!” their leader commanded, the malice in his voice unmistakable.

I hesitated for a moment, contemplating making a run for it, but the determination in their eyes warned me against such a futile attempt. Feeling powerless, I stepped out of the truck, my heart sinking as I realized the severity of the situation. These rebels were after the uranium, and they wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever it took to get their hands on it.

“Start loading the uranium into our truck,” one of them ordered to the others, their voice masked by sinister intent. As I watched the masked intruders forcefully transfer the containers, I felt the weight of betrayal. I had always been proud of my role in protecting the Federation, but now I was inadvertently facilitating its endangerment. My guards, Rick, Jennifer, and Alex, put up a brave fight, but they were outnumbered and overpowered. The attackers showed no mercy, and with each gunshot, my heart broke a little more. I wanted to intervene, to save my friends, but I was paralyzed by fear. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the attackers completed their heinous task. My companions lay motionless on the ground, their lives stolen in the blink of an eye. Grief washed over me as I realized that I was next.

“Get back in the truck,” the leader sneered, and I complied, my body trembling with a mix of terror and anger. The stolen uranium was now in the hands of ruthless rebels, and my heart ached with the knowledge of the danger it posed. As we drove away from the scene of the attack, I stole one last glance at the lifeless bodies of my friends. Guilt gnawed at my soul; I should have done more to protect them, to prevent this tragedy. In the distance, the lights of Ukishkerus glimmered, and I knew that my fate was sealed. The rebels would never leave witnesses behind, and I would be the next to fall victim to their twisted cause. As we reached a desolate area outside the city, my heart raced with a mix of terror and defiance. My life had been devoted to serving the Federation, but now, I was faced with the harsh reality of betrayal and impending death.

“Any last words?” the leader taunted, a wicked smile etched on his face.

In that haunting moment, my heart pounded like a drum, and my mind raced to find the right words to say before I met my fate. With the barrel of a gun pointed at me, the cold metal against my temple, I summoned the last remnants of courage.

“Think about what you’re doing,” I pleaded, my voice trembling. “This isn’t the path you should choose. There’s still time to turn back.”

The masked leader sneered, his eyes unyielding. “Save your breath,” he retorted, his finger tightening on the trigger. In that split second, a kaleidoscope of memories flooded my mind—laughter with friends, cherished moments with family, and the honor of serving the Federation. Regret washed over me, knowing I couldn’t protect the uranium, couldn’t save my friends, couldn’t change the course of this tragic night. As tears blurred my vision, I closed my eyes, accepting my fate. “Tell my family… I love them,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the beating of my heart. A gunshot shattered the night, and darkness consumed my senses. In that final moment, my last thoughts were of love and regret, of the life I had led and the lives I had failed to protect.


Sanctuary Zone

A family fleeing war and ethnic violence in Caeloria

The sun had barely risen over the war-torn city of Caeloria, its once vibrant streets now silent, except for the distant sounds of gunfire and explosions. In the heart of this turmoil, the Rahmadi family huddled together in fear, praying for safety and escape. As members of the ethnically Corlansan minority, the Rahmadis had been living in constant terror since the rise of the Corlaani regime in the mid-twentieth century. They were targets of discrimination, hatred, and unspeakable violence solely because of their heritage. Amid the escalating ethnic violence and the growing shadow of genocide, the family knew they had to leave their home if they were to survive. Samiyah Rahmadi, a strong-willed mother in her forties, clung to her three children—Ayesha, Amir, and little Leila—as they cowered in the small, dimly lit room they once called home. The walls bore witness to the pain and anguish they had endured, with fading pictures of happier times reminding them of the life they once had. The deafening sounds of approaching explosions grew louder, signaling that the Federation forces were inching closer to liberate the city. While this offered a glimmer of hope, it also meant that the danger was far from over. The Corlaani soldiers were ruthless, and the Rahmadis knew that their escape would be treacherous.

“We must leave, now,” Samiyah whispered urgently, her voice barely audible over the cacophony outside. Holding Leila tightly, Samiyah led her children out of their home and into the deserted streets. The once-bustling city now lay in ruins, a haunting reminder of the violence that had consumed it. Each step they took was heavy with uncertainty, their eyes darting around for any sign of danger. As they weaved through the labyrinth of broken buildings and rubble, they encountered other families fleeing for their lives. The collective fear in the air was palpable, and yet, there was an unspoken solidarity among them—a shared determination to survive.

Federation forces were gradually gaining ground, their presence instilling a newfound glimmer of hope in the Rahmadis’ hearts. Still, they knew the danger was far from over, for the Corlaani soldiers would strike back viciously as they were losing their grip on the city. Suddenly, the wailing siren of an approaching rebel fighter jet filled the air, and the family’s hearts sank. Panic surged through the crowded streets as people scrambled to find cover, knowing that an airstrike was imminent. The Rahmadis sought refuge in a nearby basement, seeking solace among strangers who were now bound together by a shared plight. As the fighter jet roared overhead, unleashing a devastating bombardment on a nearby building, the deafening explosion shook the ground beneath them. Dust and debris filled the air, and in the darkness, they held each other tightly, praying for survival. Moments passed, though they felt like an eternity, until the roar of the jet faded into the distance. The basement was silent except for the muffled cries of frightened children and the choked sobs of adults.

“We can’t stay here,” Samiyah whispered, her voice trembling with resolve. “We have to keep moving.” With tears streaming down her face, she led her family and newfound companions out of the basement and into the unknown. As they emerged from the basement, they were met with the harsh reality of what once was a city block, now a pile of burning debris. A marketplace now lay in ruins, its stalls reduced to rubble, and the echoes of life that once filled the streets had been replaced with the haunting sounds of destruction. Samiyah clutched her children’s hands tightly, her heart heavy with the weight of the decision she had made. They had to reach safety, but the path ahead was uncertain, fraught with danger at every turn.

As they navigated through the debris-laden streets, they encountered other families on similar journeys—each one carrying the scars of a city that had turned against its own. Some were wounded, limping with pain; others were carrying what little belongings they could salvage.

Amid the chaos, the Rahmadis found solace in the shared journey of survival. They exchanged knowing glances with strangers, acknowledging the hardships they all faced and finding comfort in the unspoken understanding of their plight. As the Rahmadi family hurried through the maze of streets, they encountered a group of Federation soldiers, their uniforms bearing the unmistakable six-star insignia of hope and freedom. Relief washed over Samiyah as she realized that they were not alone in this fight for survival. One of the soldiers, a young woman with a determined gaze, approached Samiyah and the children.

“We’re here to help,” she said, her voice gentle yet resolute. “We’re escorting civilians to safe zones outside the city. Follow us, and we’ll get you to safety.” Tears welled up in Samiyah’s eyes as she expressed her gratitude, but she knew that their journey was far from over. The path to safety was treacherous, with no guarantees of what lay ahead. With the Federation forces as their guardians, the Rahmadi family and other civilians began their perilous march towards the city outskirts. The journey was tense, with every step filled with the fear of ambushes or hidden dangers. Amid the chaos, little Leila clung to her mother’s hand, her innocent eyes reflecting the uncertainty around her. Ayesha and Amir, though young, understood the gravity of their situation, their faces a mix of fear and determination. As they neared the outskirts, the sounds of battle began to fade, replaced by the promise of sanctuary beyond the city’s boundaries. The Federation forces had established sanctuary zones, and their presence provided a glimmer of hope that they might escape the horrors of the Corlaani. Finally reaching the designated sanctuary zone, the Rahmadis and the other families found temporary refuge. But the scars of the past remained, etched deep into their hearts. The road to healing would be long and arduous, but they were no longer alone in their struggle. The Federation forces continued their advance, pushing back the Corlaani rebels and liberating more areas of the city.Caeloria, once a symbol of fear and oppression, now bore witness to the triumph of hope and freedom. For the Rahmadi family and countless others, the Federation’s arrival signaled a new chapter—a chance at life without persecution, a life where they could be free to embrace their Corlansan heritage without fear. As the sun set over the embattled city, Samiyah looked at her children and knew that the journey ahead would be filled with challenges, but they had faced the darkest of days together. They had escaped the clutches of an enemy that sought to destroy them, and with the Federation by their side, they dared to dream of a future where peace and harmony prevailed. The road to healing had just begun, but the Rahmadi family was determined to embrace their newfound freedom, cherishing the hope that had carried them through their darkest hours.


And They Were Roommates! (Banyalin Raid)

It was a quiet morning in our small town in Banyalin Province. The sun was just starting to rise, and I was getting ready to start my day when I heard a commotion outside. At first, I thought it might be just another routine police operation, but the sight that greeted me was unlike anything I had ever seen before.

There were armed officers everywhere, surrounding the house at the end of our street. They moved with a sense of urgency and purpose, their expressions stern and focused. I could see the emblem of the Federation Police emblazoned on their uniforms, and I knew that something serious was happening. Federation Police don’t just stumble into Banyalin.

I live in a close-knit community, and it was not common to see such a large police presence. Neighbors were gathering on the sidewalks, whispering and speculating about what was going on. Fear and curiosity hung in the air like a heavy fog.

As I stood there, trying to make sense of the situation, one of my neighbors approached me with a worried expression. He had heard some rumors that there might be dangerous individuals hiding in the house, but no one knew for sure. We watched as the officers approached the front door, their weapons drawn and ready.

The tension in the air was palpable, and my heart pounded in my chest. I couldn’t help but feel a mix of fear and relief that the police were here to protect us. But at the same time, I was concerned for the safety of everyone involved.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang as the door was kicked open. The officers stormed inside, and I could hear them shouting commands to the people inside. Moments later, they emerged with several individuals in handcuffs. I recognized some of them as locals, and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

The officers swiftly moved the suspects into waiting vehicles, and they were whisked away before we could fully comprehend what had just happened. It was all over so quickly, and yet the impact of the raid would linger in our small town for days to come.

As the day wore on, news began to spread that the suspects were allegedly involved in the recent theft of Uranium-235 from Ukishkerus. The gravity of the situation slowly sank in, and our once quiet town was thrust into the national spotlight.

The raid in our small town was a stark reminder of the ever-present dangers that lurk in the shadows. It was also a testament to the dedication and bravery of the Federation Police, who put their lives on the line to keep us safe.

In the days that followed, the town returned to its usual tranquility, but the memory of that morning’s events would forever be etched in our minds. As a neighbor, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of relief and unease. We had survived a harrowing ordeal, but we also knew that the threat was far from over.

I couldn’t help but wonder what else might be lurking in the shadows, waiting to disrupt our peaceful lives. But for now, all we could do was lean on each other for support and pray that justice would at the end of the day prevail.