The Thin Lineby TerribleSpellerChaptersFor the Fatherland!For the Fatherland...?For the Fatherland.For the Fatherland!Haukland, 1015 Rijtsfaal stared at the waves on the shores of Haukland in boredom. The Feathisian Organization for the Liberation of the Fatherland had sent two representatives to Haukland to meet up with their foreign contact, a griffon by the name of Tcatnok. Turning to Gebakken who was talking to one of the locals. Rijsttafel could quite clearly see that he was enjoying his time here, after all, Gebakken was a merchant before the annexation and joined the FOLF after dodging the draft. He clearly knew much about Haukland and many of the merchants. Rijtsfaal groaned and looked back at the sea. They had been searching for two days since their arrival, their only lead was that Tkatnok would have a contact waiting for them on the west beach, but so far they had no luck in identifying who it was. The waves lapped against the beaches lazily. His thoughts turned back to life back before he joined the FOLF. He lived a simple life as a farmer, not earning much but lived an honest life. Rijtsfaal worked on the land owned by his father, which was also owned by his father's father, which also owned by his father's father's father, and so on. But that simple cycle of life was disrupted by the invasion of Feathisia by the Imperials over in Griffenhiem. His farmland notably was ruined when an Imperial bombing run hit his farmlands due to the column of Feathisian soldiers who just so happened to be marching near his farm. With his livelihood ruined, Rijtsfaal at first didn't want to join the Resistance. He - like many farmers - protested against the Imperial Government, demanding compensation for their destroyed farmlands. What followed was a crackdown and the ceding of Feathisian farmland to Imperial businessgriffs, and that's what properly pushed Rijtsfaal and a bunch of other farmers over the edge. Since then, he had been running around Griffonia and wherever the Griffonian Empire went. Sabotaging railways, cutting telegram wires, and hampering construction with the few resources they had. The FOLF was soon joined by various other resistance organizations, ranging from The People's Resistance Front in Skynavia to the Aquelian Royalist Restoration Organization. Even as the Imperials tried stamping them out, war after war brought more and more resistance fighters that were more than willing to overlook ideological and cultural differences to fight against the common threat. And that brought himself back to current situation. The Imperials were at war with both the River Federation and the Wingbardians, getting itself bogged down in a two-front war. The River Federation had somehow managed to contact the FOLF and asked if they wanted some assistance in their resistance endeavours. They planned to meet by sundown on the fifth of March on the Southern port of Haukland. Rijtsfaal and Gebakken arrived here several days earlier, under the guise of a couple of fishergriffs who decided to stop around in Haukland. Their foreign allies told them that there was something with Tactnok that they wanted for FOLF to pick up. After arriving in Haukland, Rijtsfaal and Gebakken had to play the searching game, trying to find the whereabouts of the elusive contact. Rijtsfaal turned back to Gebakken to see him waving away the new friend he made. A local griffon with a grey coat. Probably an actual fishergriff. "You done looking for drinking buddies?" Rijtsfaal joked. Gebakken merely rolled his eyes, "While you're sitting on yer ass looking at the sunset, found our little Riverlander friend's location. He's at the fish n' chip restaurant around the corner," Gebakken was a scrawny griffon, jokingly called "Slank" due to how thin he was. The tips of his feathers were of a yellow shade like of grain, and the rest were of a brown colour which showed his Herzlander origin, in contrast to Rijtsfaal's Feathisian Trademark Grey. "Why a fish n' chip restaurant?" Gebakken shrugged, it was better to go along with it then question your supplier's quirks. The Isem Fish n' Chips restaurant on the corner of the street was a small institution. Many patrons came and went, but the restaurant remained. The restaurant itself had seen many things, smugglers, lovers, and many more. Rijtsfaal and Gebakken entered the room, ringing the bell above the door. Gebakken wore a trilby while Rijtsfaal kept his bowler hat on. Several patrons took a look at the entering griffons. There were griffons, ponies, and several other species, most of them merely glanced at them before returning to their meals. Both of them walked up to the counter, taking off his hat, Gebakken faced the cashier. "I'm here for a... uhh..." Gebakken took a piece of a paper with some writing from his hat, "a so-called 'Special Meal' from a friend that goes by the name of Tkatnok," The cashier tapped her chin, "Tkatnok? Don't you mean Tcatnok? Griffon with a limp? Weird Accent? Fucked up beak?" "Ah yes sorry," said Gebakken, "I just say Tkatnok just to piss him off," The cashier smiled, "He's in the back, been waiting for you for some time," Gebakken nodded and slid the cashier several Idols and walked to the back of the restaurant, Rijtsfaal followed him while keeping an eye on the many patrons of the restaurant. Most of them only paid them a glance, knowing full well of their intentions here. The back part of the restaurant was run down, there was fungus on the ceiling and several cockroaches ran around on the floor. Gebakken looked in disgust while Rijtsfaal paid the little creatures no mind, having lived on a farm his whole life, bugs weren't a problem to him. Reaching the backroom of the restaurant, near the cold storage room, the duo entered a room with a table in the centre and a griffon waiting for them at the back of the room. True to the cashier's description, Tcatnok had a fucked up beak, one whose top and bottom parts, if closed, did not meet. "Tcatnok?" Rijtsfaal asked. "Who's speaking?" The griffon inquired, his accent a combination of Wingbardian and New Marelandian. "Rijtsfaal, and this is my partner Gebakken" - Rijtsfaal pointed at the griffon next to him - "And we heard you had something that could help with our business venture in Feathisia," "Well then, glad to see we ended up meeting the right people then, Signore," Tcatnok said, "And before we continue, nothing leaves this room, capisce?" "Indeed Mr Tcatnok," said Gebakken, walking over to the table where a duffle bag sat. "What devices do you have?" Rijtsfaal made sure the door behind them was locked before walking to stand next to Gebakken. Tcatnok walked over the table, and Rijtsfaal took note that the cashier was true about the Griff's limp. "Well you see, R&D has recently made quite an advance in explosive technology," Tcatnok opened the duffle bag, revealing several white blocks. Texture similar to wallpaper and white similar to the whitest snow. "We were hoping for explosives Mr Tcatnok," started Gebakken, "not illicit substances," "No, no, no," said Tcatnok, waving a dismissive claw, "This is a state of the art, E-4 Explosives. Completely resistance to physical shocks, fires, and just about everything a normal explosive would explode from. You would need one of this-" Tcatnok pulled out a small stick, with a small notable button on one end "-a detonator to blow this baby up," "Interesting, how big of an explosion can this thing do?" Inquired Gebakken, not wanting to waste time. Rijtsfaal looked at the several blocks of explosives with the worry of its destructive capabilities. Tcatnok shrugged, "R&D didn't give specifics, but they said you could knock out a beam of a structure with only half a kilo," "Half a kilo?" Exclaimed Rijtsfaal, "Quite Impressive!" The usual type of explosives that they usually used was dynamite, the very easily blown up type and where you would need at least two kilos to blow out a beam of a structure. "Crystals and a whole lot of chemicals, it also causes fire in the area that just blew up," Tcatnok answered, quite nonchalantly. "R&D wouldn't disclose the full list of ingredients," "How much do we owe you?" Asked Gebakken. "This is all free, just create as much chaos as possible, my superiors want to make the Imperials focus elsewhere other than the fronts," Tcatnok placed the block and detonator he took out earlier back in the duffel bag. "This is fifteen kilos, and this-" Tcatnok pulled up another duffel bag, but bigger than the first one, and placed it on the table. "-is twenty," Gebakken smiled insanely at Tcatnok, "Thank you, Tkatnok," "It's Tcatnok, and leave before some other patrons get too interested in what we're doing here," As the two Griffons exited the restaurant, a duffel bag with each of them. The sun had just passed its apex and many more creatures were walking the street. Adjusting his trilby, Gebakken began walking back to their pick up point with Rijtsfaal behind him. As they rounded a corner, Rjitsfaal turned to Gebakken. "How do you think we're gonna use this?" Rijtsfaal asked. "Dunno, from what our friend has said we need to create as much chaos as possible to draw their attention away, how're we gonna do that?" "Well, no matter what we're gonna do, we're doing this for the Fatherland," "For the Fatherland," For the Fatherland...?Rottendam, Feathisia 1016 The sewer system of the centuries-old city of Rottendam was an envy of the world, the newfound success of Feathisia and the trade expeditions across the world brought enormous wealth to the Duchy, allowing them to do many projects and improve their living conditions while most of the world was still stuck with open sewers that merged with rivers. With a flashlight in his grip, a bag slung around his neck, Rijtsfaal walked with fear as he walked through the old sewers. Occasional creaks, water drippings, or the usual mice would cause him to jump around in fear. The rotting smell of faeces and decaying food filled his nostrils, but that was a mere inconvenient to him in comparison to the fear of a sudden ambush. In this sewers, with the Imperial Authorities hot on your tail, fear of anygriff just behind a corner was a reasonable fear. The reason for additional fear was the news that was emerging out of Cloudsbury, the supposed story of a Republican Extremist Group which had begun a guerilla war in the countryside and cities of the former Griffonian Republic. Of course, the Imperial authorities denied it, but the fact train trips to Cloudsbury were suddenly suspended only strengthen the claim. Turning a corner, Rijtsfaal was met with the sight of light emerging from what seemed to be an open door down the sewers. Shining his flashlight around, the Griffon continued to walk down the narrow pathway between the wall and the horrid water infested with Boreas knows what. While walking down to the Hallway, Rijtsfaal's mind turned to his family, he hasn't seen his family for several years now. He worried about what happened to his sister, Anna was studying at Yale when the war between the Empire and Feathisia occurred. Hopefully, she was fine. Anna was a strong girl. Turning his attention back to the present, Rijtsfaal had reached the door, and he peeked his head through. He was greeted to the sight of several boxes stacked neatly in one corner and several, what seemed to be empty bags in another. There was a table in another corner with some paper strewn about. Rijtsfaal walked over to the corner full of boxes and lifted one of the covers open. Rijtsfaal looked in it to see the box half full with the E-4 explosives. He didn't exactly know why the Resistance Command wanted to gather all the explosives they had in a single location, but he knew that if word got out about it, the Resistance was screwed. Opening his bag which was stuffed full of more E-4 Explosives, Rijtsfaal took each piece carefully and placed it in the box. He counted about seven pieces of explosives, all roughly twice as big as his claw. After closing the box again, walked over to the pile of papers strewn about on the table. Maybe that would explain Command's weird orders. Reaching the table with all the papers on it, Rijtsfaal picked up one using his claw and examined its content. It was a map of Rottendam, there were several circles on the map, with most of them having been crossed out. With only one circle not crossed off and marked with red ink saying "Perfecte locatie!". He didn't exactly know why the restaurant on a three way intersection was marked as so. It probably was a place for weapon drop offs or something. Rijtsfaal placed the paper back on the table, and Rijtsfaal left the room, closing the door before him. Turning his flashlight on again, he began navigating his way through the sewers, heading for the exit. Two Days Later Rijtsfaal sat at a coffee shop, sipping his coffee and looked out at the street which he had a perfect view of from his position. He merely wore a scarf and a jacket on days like this. Gebakken had contacted him and told him to meet up here. He thought it was weird, Gebakken was never a coffee griffon, preferring alcohol instead. Rijtsfaal focused his gaze on his coffee again when a griffon with a scar on her right eye entered the cafe. The Griffon's feathers were messy and the hat she was wearing was full of dust. Not to say her clothing was better either, filthy and dirty. She seemed to look around the cafe for a moment before spotting Rijstfaal and walked over to him. Rijtsfaal looked up from his coffee to look at the red-feathered griffon taking a seat in front of him. "I thought Gebakken would be meeting me today, Säls," said Rijtsfaal, not taking a glance at the cafe. He knew full well he had to play the role of a surprised friend, just in case, there were some Imperial spies in the cafe. Rijtsfaal kept his gaze on the dishevelled griffon in front of him. Säls was a salesgriff, well former salesgriff. The factory in which she was working in being nationalized and converted to an arms factory caused her to lose her job. She - like Rijtsfaal - at first didn't want to join the resistance. But having your husband being shot upon by Imperial soldiers tended to cause griffons to snap and join a resistance force against an oppressive government. "Gebahkken's got some shit to deal with, Rijts," said Säl, even from half a meter away, Rijtsfaal could smell cigarette smoke reeking off her. Her accent gave away where she came from, Katerin. "So, I've come in his place," "Any idea what type of stuff?" Asked Rijtsfaal. Taking a sip of coffee. "No idea," Säl said, "Anyways, everything is set in place, the higher up are going to begin our new project today," "Which project exactly?" Before Säl could answer, the sound of wheels screeching interrupted their conversation. The entire cafe turned to the source of the commotion. A truck swivelled on the road and crashed into a building a bit down on the street.. Luckily, from the look of things, no pedestrians got hurt. Just as Rijtsfaal was about to get back in the conversation when the back end of the truck opened up, and several masked griffons emerged from the truck, carrying weapons. Rijtsfaal grabbed Säl and ran for the door as gunfire soon filled the streets. Griffons screamed and chaos enveloped the street. Exiting the cafe and taking a hard left, the duo ran for about ten minutes before stopping at one of the Resistance safehouses. Säl fumbled with the keys before managing to open the door. Rijtsfaal collapsed onto to the wall in the front room while Säl collapsed into the chair. Still gasping for air, Rijtsfaal turned to Säl, "By Eyr, we just got out of there," "Yes, yes indeed," Said Säl standing up, tiding her clothes. "Wouldn't want the higher-ups finding out one of their members died to one of their own operations," "Yeah, and- hold up," Rijtsfaal narrowed his eyes with suspicion, "What did you mean by 'their own operations'?" "It was in the briefing, RIjts, did you pay no attention?" Said Säl, nonchalantly. "No, I was in a different province!" Shouted Rijtsfaal. He walked closer to Säl, an accusing finger on her chest. "Explain," "The Riverlanders want us to direct attention away from the front, and since a year ago we haven't delivered them what they wanted if don't do, as they say, I doubt we'll be able to establish an independent Feathisia by the end of this war," "Did the higher-ups try negotiating? Blowing up more railways and factories? Or something else other than shooting innocent bystanders and our griffons!?" "It wasn't effective enough, Rijtsfaal," said Säl "A factory thrown out of commission can be easily repaired, so is a railway, we weren't creating enough chaos. And the higher-ups decided that a terrorist attack was the only thing that could cause the chaos we needed to keep our RIverlander suppliers satisfied," Rijtsfaal looked at Säl with disbelief, "I can't believe it! You're trying to tell me, that the higherups are okay with the FOLF becoming a terrorist organization!? Just like those Prywhenian Communists!?" The Prywhenian Communists, while being an ally to the Feathisian Organization, were renowned for their aggressive resistance methods, often engaging in brutal house to house fighting against garrisons. Often the not racking up the civilian casualties. "We were already a terrorist organization from the start, Rijts!" Shouted Säl, "Blowing up factories? Blowing up railways? We're striking terror into the hearts of the enemy Rijts, we were meant to create terror, and with only terror can we liberate our Fatherland!" A scream echoed throughout the house as Rijtsfaal claw collided with Säl's face. Säl touched the place where her face and his claw collided to see some blood. Now, it was Säl's turn to stare at Rijtsfaal in disbelief. "If what it takes to liberate our fatherland requires killing innocent lives, then it is better our Fatherland isn't liberated," said Rijtsfaal in a low voice. "Then you are a coward, Rijts," Säl said, "You are not willing to do the things needed to free this land from its occupiers, but the rest of we are, soon our greatest ever operation will occur, and in its wake, the Emperor will be dead," "What? There's no fucking way you could assassinate the Emperor who's always in the Palace," "Are you dense, Rijtsfaal? He's visiting Rottendam in two days, along with his regent. With our stockpile of tens, no hundreds! Of explosives, both of them will be dead," Rijtsfaal froze as he finally understood the higher-up's plan with the boxes of E-4 explosives in the sewers, the map with a busy market place marked with "Perfecte Locatie". "So that's why you needed those explosives in the sewers..." Rijtsfaal muttered. Säl nodded. "No, no, you're not saving it, you... you monster," muttered Rijtsfaal, moving to the door, "You're going to take so many innocent lives... just to liberate our country... I can't do that Säl, I can't do that," "You're also a monster, Rijtsfaal, you helped us," said Säl. "Yes, I'm a monster, fooled by other monsters to become one," He said. "I cannot let this continue," "Then I'm afraid I can't let you leave, Rijtsfaal," Before Rijtsfaal can comprehend what the griffon meant, he felt a scrutinizing pain in his shoulder and he looked to see a spot of red spreading out from it. He turned around and looked at Säl who held a gun in her left claw, still smoking from the barrel. Rijtsfaal lunged at Säl and threw the gun out of her claw. The two griffons fell to the floor, and Säl attempted to reach for the gun but Rijtsfaal began punching the griffon. The two struggled on the floor continuously as Säl grabbed Rijtsfaal's throat and threw him to the side. Säl got up and attempted to reach for the gun but was brought down to the floor again as Rijtsfaal grabbed her hind legs and jumped for the gun. Manging to grab the gun in his claws and rolled around onto his back as Säl just got up and lunged at him. A gunshot echoed throughout the house. The body of Säl fell onto the floor, limp. Her eyes will still fill with determination as she laid on the floor. Rijtsfaal got up and looked to see blood staining his clothes. And taking one last look at the body of Säl, Rijtsfaal placed the pistol in his pocket and ran straight out the door. As he ran on the street, with bloodstain clothes, the streets were filled with the sound of military vehicles as the Imperial Feathisian Garrisons were dispatched to the scene of a terrorist attack. For the Fatherland.Rottendam, Feathisia 1016 Gebakken meekly peeked through the door, entering the room slowly and carefully. Turning on to the lights, Gebakken was greeted with the sight of boxes in one corner and a table in another. From the look of things, nothing had been touched. The boxes were still in their place, none of the paperwork seemed to be removed. Gebakken let out a sigh of relief as he entered the room. Today was the big day. As he walked over to the boxes, he pulled out a pocket watch to see the time was 9:13 seventeen minutes before showtime. Opening one of the boxes, Gebakken was greeted with the sight of several kilos of E-4s. Smiling to himself, he closed the box again. Within minutes, they would strike a blow so fatal to the Empire, they would soon know the power of the FOLF. Gebakken pulled out the watch again to see it was 9:15, fifteen minutes remaining. The ageing griffon laughed to himself, it was all too perfect, soon he would die a martyr for the War of Liberation. And in the wake of their strike, Feathisia would be free once more. The griffon laughed to himself a bit more before walking over to the table, looking over the plans once more. If all the data collected by the organization’s informants were right, the Emperor of Griffonkind’s motorcade would stop at this exact point in this intersection. The Emperor and his regent would get off here to meet the Mayor of Rottendam in the restaurant, right above where the bombs were placed. “Put your claws up, Gebakken,” somegriffon said, accompanied by the classical click of gun’s safety being turned off. Abiding by the voice’s commands, Gebakken slowly raised his claws. He knew full well who he was talking to. Gebakken turned around - claws still raised - to meet the sight of the Rijtsfaal holding a Luger towards him. “Rijtsfaal! Buddy! What are you doing here?” Said Gebakken, trying to be friendly to his long time resistance comrade. “Command said you were needed somewhere at downtown, not here Rijts!” “I know full well, what’s going on here Gebakken,” Rijtsfaal answered. His grip on the pistol was shaky, but the determination in his eyes told Gebakken full well that he won’t miss. “It’s just a routine inspection, Rijts! Really, Säl probably needs your help at downtown, something about stealing more firearms from the Imperials,” The griffon said in a vain attempt to convince the farmer to leave. “Really? How can a dead griffon steal firearms?” Gebakken for a brief moment showed shock before being replaced with cold confidence. “So you killed Säl, why?” “You and I both know full well why I killed her, after all, it had to do with those things,” he said, motioning at the boxes at the corner of the room with a free claw. “This ain’t a storage room, Gebakken, and you ain’t fooling nogriffon. You’re trying to kill civilians here,” Gebakken laughed, “So you figured it out eh? Did it really take you a year since we got these E-4 Explosives from the Riverlanders that we would use them as normal creatures would? To simply blow up factories?” “Why, Gebakken, why?” Asked Rijtsfaal, gambling on a fringe hope that he might understand Gebakken’s madness, and hopefully pull him away from it. “Because they raped our Fatherland,” Gebakken started, “They pillaged our farmlands and our ports, and gave it all to their own people! And displaced ours! Our people need to strike back, and show that shouldn’t have come here!” “And kill possibly hundreds of civilians?!” Shouted Rijtsfaal, “Gebakken, there are children up there! Innocents who have nothing to do with the Emperor and by blowing that pile of explosives there, you will be killing them all!” “The hardest choices require the strongest of wills,” Gebakken said coldly, “Only by killing the Emperor would we be able to free our beloved Country from the grasp of the Imperials, even if it needs hundreds of innocents to die along with it,” “You are a monster Gebakken,” said Rijtsfaal, his grip on the gun had steadied, knowing full well what he needed to do next. “I know I am, Rijtsfaal, but that is what it takes to free this country,” Gebakken’s eyes locked with Rijtsfaal, memories were played back of them being friends for the past few years. And now here both of them were, torn apart by morals and goals. Before Rijtsfaal could respond properly due, Gebakken rushed at him, grabbing the Luger and throwing it out of his claw and pushing him to the floor. Before running over to the boxes of explosives. Rolling over onto his stomach, Rijtsfaal lunged at Gebakken, throwing them both to the floor. Gebakken began threw a claw at Rijtsfaal face as he tried getting up again, before having his feet knocked out underneath him. Screaming, Gebakken pulled a knife out from a pocket in his clothing and took a slash at Rijtsfaal’s face, earning him a few seconds to pull out the detonator for the E-4s. Seeing the detonator, Rijtsfaal threw two punches at Gebakken who dodged his opponent’s attacks and responded with another swing of the knife. This time, however, the knife missed it’s intended target and Rijtsfaal was able to grab the arm holding the knife and twisted it, eliciting a scream from Gebakken. And causing him to drop the knife. Gebakken proceeded to use his right claw - holding the detonator - to throw another punch at Rijtsfaal. Causing him to let go of his opponent’s arm, and followed swiftly by Gebakken kicking Rijtsfaal using his two hind legs. Throwing Rijtsfaal back against the wall. Running towards the boxes, Gebakken threw open one of the boxes, revealing it’s white contents. And stabbed the detonator into it. This was the absolute crisis, the peak of their resistance against the Imperials. The operations, the captures, the sabotage, the entire eleven years of resistance hung in the balance. Suddenly, Gebakken felt a feeling of emptiness spread from within his body. Looking down, he could see the red pouring from his chest. In an instant, he fell to the ground, next to the boxes of explosives. He could see Rijtsfaal holding the pistol in his claws, hyperventilating. He tried to gather up his strength, to get up and finish the job. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t. He had failed... Gebakken, slowly drifted away... into the afterlife... Rijtsfaal dropped the Luger onto the floor, sweat soaking his entire clothing. Rijtsfaal continued to look at Gebakken's now lifeless body, blood staining the floor. Soon, what he did properly hit him, he just killed his friend. A friend he had bonded with over several years within the resistance. Rijtsfaal began crying, he lost a friend today at the cost of saving several hundred lives. Was it worth it really? He thought to himself, to have a friend die in exchange for hundreds of innocent lives he didn't know about? Rijtsfaal slowly got back onto his claws, picking up the Luger and placing it back inside his clothing. Using a claw to wipe his tears as he walked over to the boxes. The small detonator was still stuck in one of the E-4 Explosives, standing out in its metallic shell in comparison to the explosives white shade. Grabbing the detonator slowly, he pulled it out of the E-4 Explosives. There was a mark left behind in the explosive, showing where Gebakken had frantically stabbed the detonator into. Closing the box, Rijtsfaal turned his attention to the detonator. It was small, similar to one of the new pens that have been circulating recently. He broke the piece in two in a swift movement. He looked at Gebakken's body one last time before heading for the door. The smell of the sewers hit him again as he travelled back to the upside world... Was it worth it? He thought to himself one last time, what could be the possible justification behind it? He did it for his fatherland, his mind answered. His Fatherland, Feathisia... Author's Note And thus concludes the story, a one about a Resistance movement going to radical means to achieve its goal. And one its members, not wishing to let a movement go radical, and take hundreds - possibly thousands, or more! - lives. I hope you enjoyed this story, it's probably going to stand out for a more different plot than most other Resistance stories which would probably once more paint that romantic picture of a ragtag bunch of guerilla fighters, storming the palace and overthrowing a corrupt dictatorship. As usual, leave the constructive criticism down below.
For the Fatherland!Haukland, 1015 Rijtsfaal stared at the waves on the shores of Haukland in boredom. The Feathisian Organization for the Liberation of the Fatherland had sent two representatives to Haukland to meet up with their foreign contact, a griffon by the name of Tcatnok. Turning to Gebakken who was talking to one of the locals. Rijsttafel could quite clearly see that he was enjoying his time here, after all, Gebakken was a merchant before the annexation and joined the FOLF after dodging the draft. He clearly knew much about Haukland and many of the merchants. Rijtsfaal groaned and looked back at the sea. They had been searching for two days since their arrival, their only lead was that Tkatnok would have a contact waiting for them on the west beach, but so far they had no luck in identifying who it was. The waves lapped against the beaches lazily. His thoughts turned back to life back before he joined the FOLF. He lived a simple life as a farmer, not earning much but lived an honest life. Rijtsfaal worked on the land owned by his father, which was also owned by his father's father, which also owned by his father's father's father, and so on. But that simple cycle of life was disrupted by the invasion of Feathisia by the Imperials over in Griffenhiem. His farmland notably was ruined when an Imperial bombing run hit his farmlands due to the column of Feathisian soldiers who just so happened to be marching near his farm. With his livelihood ruined, Rijtsfaal at first didn't want to join the Resistance. He - like many farmers - protested against the Imperial Government, demanding compensation for their destroyed farmlands. What followed was a crackdown and the ceding of Feathisian farmland to Imperial businessgriffs, and that's what properly pushed Rijtsfaal and a bunch of other farmers over the edge. Since then, he had been running around Griffonia and wherever the Griffonian Empire went. Sabotaging railways, cutting telegram wires, and hampering construction with the few resources they had. The FOLF was soon joined by various other resistance organizations, ranging from The People's Resistance Front in Skynavia to the Aquelian Royalist Restoration Organization. Even as the Imperials tried stamping them out, war after war brought more and more resistance fighters that were more than willing to overlook ideological and cultural differences to fight against the common threat. And that brought himself back to current situation. The Imperials were at war with both the River Federation and the Wingbardians, getting itself bogged down in a two-front war. The River Federation had somehow managed to contact the FOLF and asked if they wanted some assistance in their resistance endeavours. They planned to meet by sundown on the fifth of March on the Southern port of Haukland. Rijtsfaal and Gebakken arrived here several days earlier, under the guise of a couple of fishergriffs who decided to stop around in Haukland. Their foreign allies told them that there was something with Tactnok that they wanted for FOLF to pick up. After arriving in Haukland, Rijtsfaal and Gebakken had to play the searching game, trying to find the whereabouts of the elusive contact. Rijtsfaal turned back to Gebakken to see him waving away the new friend he made. A local griffon with a grey coat. Probably an actual fishergriff. "You done looking for drinking buddies?" Rijtsfaal joked. Gebakken merely rolled his eyes, "While you're sitting on yer ass looking at the sunset, found our little Riverlander friend's location. He's at the fish n' chip restaurant around the corner," Gebakken was a scrawny griffon, jokingly called "Slank" due to how thin he was. The tips of his feathers were of a yellow shade like of grain, and the rest were of a brown colour which showed his Herzlander origin, in contrast to Rijtsfaal's Feathisian Trademark Grey. "Why a fish n' chip restaurant?" Gebakken shrugged, it was better to go along with it then question your supplier's quirks. The Isem Fish n' Chips restaurant on the corner of the street was a small institution. Many patrons came and went, but the restaurant remained. The restaurant itself had seen many things, smugglers, lovers, and many more. Rijtsfaal and Gebakken entered the room, ringing the bell above the door. Gebakken wore a trilby while Rijtsfaal kept his bowler hat on. Several patrons took a look at the entering griffons. There were griffons, ponies, and several other species, most of them merely glanced at them before returning to their meals. Both of them walked up to the counter, taking off his hat, Gebakken faced the cashier. "I'm here for a... uhh..." Gebakken took a piece of a paper with some writing from his hat, "a so-called 'Special Meal' from a friend that goes by the name of Tkatnok," The cashier tapped her chin, "Tkatnok? Don't you mean Tcatnok? Griffon with a limp? Weird Accent? Fucked up beak?" "Ah yes sorry," said Gebakken, "I just say Tkatnok just to piss him off," The cashier smiled, "He's in the back, been waiting for you for some time," Gebakken nodded and slid the cashier several Idols and walked to the back of the restaurant, Rijtsfaal followed him while keeping an eye on the many patrons of the restaurant. Most of them only paid them a glance, knowing full well of their intentions here. The back part of the restaurant was run down, there was fungus on the ceiling and several cockroaches ran around on the floor. Gebakken looked in disgust while Rijtsfaal paid the little creatures no mind, having lived on a farm his whole life, bugs weren't a problem to him. Reaching the backroom of the restaurant, near the cold storage room, the duo entered a room with a table in the centre and a griffon waiting for them at the back of the room. True to the cashier's description, Tcatnok had a fucked up beak, one whose top and bottom parts, if closed, did not meet. "Tcatnok?" Rijtsfaal asked. "Who's speaking?" The griffon inquired, his accent a combination of Wingbardian and New Marelandian. "Rijtsfaal, and this is my partner Gebakken" - Rijtsfaal pointed at the griffon next to him - "And we heard you had something that could help with our business venture in Feathisia," "Well then, glad to see we ended up meeting the right people then, Signore," Tcatnok said, "And before we continue, nothing leaves this room, capisce?" "Indeed Mr Tcatnok," said Gebakken, walking over to the table where a duffle bag sat. "What devices do you have?" Rijtsfaal made sure the door behind them was locked before walking to stand next to Gebakken. Tcatnok walked over the table, and Rijtsfaal took note that the cashier was true about the Griff's limp. "Well you see, R&D has recently made quite an advance in explosive technology," Tcatnok opened the duffle bag, revealing several white blocks. Texture similar to wallpaper and white similar to the whitest snow. "We were hoping for explosives Mr Tcatnok," started Gebakken, "not illicit substances," "No, no, no," said Tcatnok, waving a dismissive claw, "This is a state of the art, E-4 Explosives. Completely resistance to physical shocks, fires, and just about everything a normal explosive would explode from. You would need one of this-" Tcatnok pulled out a small stick, with a small notable button on one end "-a detonator to blow this baby up," "Interesting, how big of an explosion can this thing do?" Inquired Gebakken, not wanting to waste time. Rijtsfaal looked at the several blocks of explosives with the worry of its destructive capabilities. Tcatnok shrugged, "R&D didn't give specifics, but they said you could knock out a beam of a structure with only half a kilo," "Half a kilo?" Exclaimed Rijtsfaal, "Quite Impressive!" The usual type of explosives that they usually used was dynamite, the very easily blown up type and where you would need at least two kilos to blow out a beam of a structure. "Crystals and a whole lot of chemicals, it also causes fire in the area that just blew up," Tcatnok answered, quite nonchalantly. "R&D wouldn't disclose the full list of ingredients," "How much do we owe you?" Asked Gebakken. "This is all free, just create as much chaos as possible, my superiors want to make the Imperials focus elsewhere other than the fronts," Tcatnok placed the block and detonator he took out earlier back in the duffel bag. "This is fifteen kilos, and this-" Tcatnok pulled up another duffel bag, but bigger than the first one, and placed it on the table. "-is twenty," Gebakken smiled insanely at Tcatnok, "Thank you, Tkatnok," "It's Tcatnok, and leave before some other patrons get too interested in what we're doing here," As the two Griffons exited the restaurant, a duffel bag with each of them. The sun had just passed its apex and many more creatures were walking the street. Adjusting his trilby, Gebakken began walking back to their pick up point with Rijtsfaal behind him. As they rounded a corner, Rjitsfaal turned to Gebakken. "How do you think we're gonna use this?" Rijtsfaal asked. "Dunno, from what our friend has said we need to create as much chaos as possible to draw their attention away, how're we gonna do that?" "Well, no matter what we're gonna do, we're doing this for the Fatherland," "For the Fatherland,"
For the Fatherland...?Rottendam, Feathisia 1016 The sewer system of the centuries-old city of Rottendam was an envy of the world, the newfound success of Feathisia and the trade expeditions across the world brought enormous wealth to the Duchy, allowing them to do many projects and improve their living conditions while most of the world was still stuck with open sewers that merged with rivers. With a flashlight in his grip, a bag slung around his neck, Rijtsfaal walked with fear as he walked through the old sewers. Occasional creaks, water drippings, or the usual mice would cause him to jump around in fear. The rotting smell of faeces and decaying food filled his nostrils, but that was a mere inconvenient to him in comparison to the fear of a sudden ambush. In this sewers, with the Imperial Authorities hot on your tail, fear of anygriff just behind a corner was a reasonable fear. The reason for additional fear was the news that was emerging out of Cloudsbury, the supposed story of a Republican Extremist Group which had begun a guerilla war in the countryside and cities of the former Griffonian Republic. Of course, the Imperial authorities denied it, but the fact train trips to Cloudsbury were suddenly suspended only strengthen the claim. Turning a corner, Rijtsfaal was met with the sight of light emerging from what seemed to be an open door down the sewers. Shining his flashlight around, the Griffon continued to walk down the narrow pathway between the wall and the horrid water infested with Boreas knows what. While walking down to the Hallway, Rijtsfaal's mind turned to his family, he hasn't seen his family for several years now. He worried about what happened to his sister, Anna was studying at Yale when the war between the Empire and Feathisia occurred. Hopefully, she was fine. Anna was a strong girl. Turning his attention back to the present, Rijtsfaal had reached the door, and he peeked his head through. He was greeted to the sight of several boxes stacked neatly in one corner and several, what seemed to be empty bags in another. There was a table in another corner with some paper strewn about. Rijtsfaal walked over to the corner full of boxes and lifted one of the covers open. Rijtsfaal looked in it to see the box half full with the E-4 explosives. He didn't exactly know why the Resistance Command wanted to gather all the explosives they had in a single location, but he knew that if word got out about it, the Resistance was screwed. Opening his bag which was stuffed full of more E-4 Explosives, Rijtsfaal took each piece carefully and placed it in the box. He counted about seven pieces of explosives, all roughly twice as big as his claw. After closing the box again, walked over to the pile of papers strewn about on the table. Maybe that would explain Command's weird orders. Reaching the table with all the papers on it, Rijtsfaal picked up one using his claw and examined its content. It was a map of Rottendam, there were several circles on the map, with most of them having been crossed out. With only one circle not crossed off and marked with red ink saying "Perfecte locatie!". He didn't exactly know why the restaurant on a three way intersection was marked as so. It probably was a place for weapon drop offs or something. Rijtsfaal placed the paper back on the table, and Rijtsfaal left the room, closing the door before him. Turning his flashlight on again, he began navigating his way through the sewers, heading for the exit. Two Days Later Rijtsfaal sat at a coffee shop, sipping his coffee and looked out at the street which he had a perfect view of from his position. He merely wore a scarf and a jacket on days like this. Gebakken had contacted him and told him to meet up here. He thought it was weird, Gebakken was never a coffee griffon, preferring alcohol instead. Rijtsfaal focused his gaze on his coffee again when a griffon with a scar on her right eye entered the cafe. The Griffon's feathers were messy and the hat she was wearing was full of dust. Not to say her clothing was better either, filthy and dirty. She seemed to look around the cafe for a moment before spotting Rijstfaal and walked over to him. Rijtsfaal looked up from his coffee to look at the red-feathered griffon taking a seat in front of him. "I thought Gebakken would be meeting me today, Säls," said Rijtsfaal, not taking a glance at the cafe. He knew full well he had to play the role of a surprised friend, just in case, there were some Imperial spies in the cafe. Rijtsfaal kept his gaze on the dishevelled griffon in front of him. Säls was a salesgriff, well former salesgriff. The factory in which she was working in being nationalized and converted to an arms factory caused her to lose her job. She - like Rijtsfaal - at first didn't want to join the resistance. But having your husband being shot upon by Imperial soldiers tended to cause griffons to snap and join a resistance force against an oppressive government. "Gebahkken's got some shit to deal with, Rijts," said Säl, even from half a meter away, Rijtsfaal could smell cigarette smoke reeking off her. Her accent gave away where she came from, Katerin. "So, I've come in his place," "Any idea what type of stuff?" Asked Rijtsfaal. Taking a sip of coffee. "No idea," Säl said, "Anyways, everything is set in place, the higher up are going to begin our new project today," "Which project exactly?" Before Säl could answer, the sound of wheels screeching interrupted their conversation. The entire cafe turned to the source of the commotion. A truck swivelled on the road and crashed into a building a bit down on the street.. Luckily, from the look of things, no pedestrians got hurt. Just as Rijtsfaal was about to get back in the conversation when the back end of the truck opened up, and several masked griffons emerged from the truck, carrying weapons. Rijtsfaal grabbed Säl and ran for the door as gunfire soon filled the streets. Griffons screamed and chaos enveloped the street. Exiting the cafe and taking a hard left, the duo ran for about ten minutes before stopping at one of the Resistance safehouses. Säl fumbled with the keys before managing to open the door. Rijtsfaal collapsed onto to the wall in the front room while Säl collapsed into the chair. Still gasping for air, Rijtsfaal turned to Säl, "By Eyr, we just got out of there," "Yes, yes indeed," Said Säl standing up, tiding her clothes. "Wouldn't want the higher-ups finding out one of their members died to one of their own operations," "Yeah, and- hold up," Rijtsfaal narrowed his eyes with suspicion, "What did you mean by 'their own operations'?" "It was in the briefing, RIjts, did you pay no attention?" Said Säl, nonchalantly. "No, I was in a different province!" Shouted Rijtsfaal. He walked closer to Säl, an accusing finger on her chest. "Explain," "The Riverlanders want us to direct attention away from the front, and since a year ago we haven't delivered them what they wanted if don't do, as they say, I doubt we'll be able to establish an independent Feathisia by the end of this war," "Did the higher-ups try negotiating? Blowing up more railways and factories? Or something else other than shooting innocent bystanders and our griffons!?" "It wasn't effective enough, Rijtsfaal," said Säl "A factory thrown out of commission can be easily repaired, so is a railway, we weren't creating enough chaos. And the higher-ups decided that a terrorist attack was the only thing that could cause the chaos we needed to keep our RIverlander suppliers satisfied," Rijtsfaal looked at Säl with disbelief, "I can't believe it! You're trying to tell me, that the higherups are okay with the FOLF becoming a terrorist organization!? Just like those Prywhenian Communists!?" The Prywhenian Communists, while being an ally to the Feathisian Organization, were renowned for their aggressive resistance methods, often engaging in brutal house to house fighting against garrisons. Often the not racking up the civilian casualties. "We were already a terrorist organization from the start, Rijts!" Shouted Säl, "Blowing up factories? Blowing up railways? We're striking terror into the hearts of the enemy Rijts, we were meant to create terror, and with only terror can we liberate our Fatherland!" A scream echoed throughout the house as Rijtsfaal claw collided with Säl's face. Säl touched the place where her face and his claw collided to see some blood. Now, it was Säl's turn to stare at Rijtsfaal in disbelief. "If what it takes to liberate our fatherland requires killing innocent lives, then it is better our Fatherland isn't liberated," said Rijtsfaal in a low voice. "Then you are a coward, Rijts," Säl said, "You are not willing to do the things needed to free this land from its occupiers, but the rest of we are, soon our greatest ever operation will occur, and in its wake, the Emperor will be dead," "What? There's no fucking way you could assassinate the Emperor who's always in the Palace," "Are you dense, Rijtsfaal? He's visiting Rottendam in two days, along with his regent. With our stockpile of tens, no hundreds! Of explosives, both of them will be dead," Rijtsfaal froze as he finally understood the higher-up's plan with the boxes of E-4 explosives in the sewers, the map with a busy market place marked with "Perfecte Locatie". "So that's why you needed those explosives in the sewers..." Rijtsfaal muttered. Säl nodded. "No, no, you're not saving it, you... you monster," muttered Rijtsfaal, moving to the door, "You're going to take so many innocent lives... just to liberate our country... I can't do that Säl, I can't do that," "You're also a monster, Rijtsfaal, you helped us," said Säl. "Yes, I'm a monster, fooled by other monsters to become one," He said. "I cannot let this continue," "Then I'm afraid I can't let you leave, Rijtsfaal," Before Rijtsfaal can comprehend what the griffon meant, he felt a scrutinizing pain in his shoulder and he looked to see a spot of red spreading out from it. He turned around and looked at Säl who held a gun in her left claw, still smoking from the barrel. Rijtsfaal lunged at Säl and threw the gun out of her claw. The two griffons fell to the floor, and Säl attempted to reach for the gun but Rijtsfaal began punching the griffon. The two struggled on the floor continuously as Säl grabbed Rijtsfaal's throat and threw him to the side. Säl got up and attempted to reach for the gun but was brought down to the floor again as Rijtsfaal grabbed her hind legs and jumped for the gun. Manging to grab the gun in his claws and rolled around onto his back as Säl just got up and lunged at him. A gunshot echoed throughout the house. The body of Säl fell onto the floor, limp. Her eyes will still fill with determination as she laid on the floor. Rijtsfaal got up and looked to see blood staining his clothes. And taking one last look at the body of Säl, Rijtsfaal placed the pistol in his pocket and ran straight out the door. As he ran on the street, with bloodstain clothes, the streets were filled with the sound of military vehicles as the Imperial Feathisian Garrisons were dispatched to the scene of a terrorist attack.
For the Fatherland.Rottendam, Feathisia 1016 Gebakken meekly peeked through the door, entering the room slowly and carefully. Turning on to the lights, Gebakken was greeted with the sight of boxes in one corner and a table in another. From the look of things, nothing had been touched. The boxes were still in their place, none of the paperwork seemed to be removed. Gebakken let out a sigh of relief as he entered the room. Today was the big day. As he walked over to the boxes, he pulled out a pocket watch to see the time was 9:13 seventeen minutes before showtime. Opening one of the boxes, Gebakken was greeted with the sight of several kilos of E-4s. Smiling to himself, he closed the box again. Within minutes, they would strike a blow so fatal to the Empire, they would soon know the power of the FOLF. Gebakken pulled out the watch again to see it was 9:15, fifteen minutes remaining. The ageing griffon laughed to himself, it was all too perfect, soon he would die a martyr for the War of Liberation. And in the wake of their strike, Feathisia would be free once more. The griffon laughed to himself a bit more before walking over to the table, looking over the plans once more. If all the data collected by the organization’s informants were right, the Emperor of Griffonkind’s motorcade would stop at this exact point in this intersection. The Emperor and his regent would get off here to meet the Mayor of Rottendam in the restaurant, right above where the bombs were placed. “Put your claws up, Gebakken,” somegriffon said, accompanied by the classical click of gun’s safety being turned off. Abiding by the voice’s commands, Gebakken slowly raised his claws. He knew full well who he was talking to. Gebakken turned around - claws still raised - to meet the sight of the Rijtsfaal holding a Luger towards him. “Rijtsfaal! Buddy! What are you doing here?” Said Gebakken, trying to be friendly to his long time resistance comrade. “Command said you were needed somewhere at downtown, not here Rijts!” “I know full well, what’s going on here Gebakken,” Rijtsfaal answered. His grip on the pistol was shaky, but the determination in his eyes told Gebakken full well that he won’t miss. “It’s just a routine inspection, Rijts! Really, Säl probably needs your help at downtown, something about stealing more firearms from the Imperials,” The griffon said in a vain attempt to convince the farmer to leave. “Really? How can a dead griffon steal firearms?” Gebakken for a brief moment showed shock before being replaced with cold confidence. “So you killed Säl, why?” “You and I both know full well why I killed her, after all, it had to do with those things,” he said, motioning at the boxes at the corner of the room with a free claw. “This ain’t a storage room, Gebakken, and you ain’t fooling nogriffon. You’re trying to kill civilians here,” Gebakken laughed, “So you figured it out eh? Did it really take you a year since we got these E-4 Explosives from the Riverlanders that we would use them as normal creatures would? To simply blow up factories?” “Why, Gebakken, why?” Asked Rijtsfaal, gambling on a fringe hope that he might understand Gebakken’s madness, and hopefully pull him away from it. “Because they raped our Fatherland,” Gebakken started, “They pillaged our farmlands and our ports, and gave it all to their own people! And displaced ours! Our people need to strike back, and show that shouldn’t have come here!” “And kill possibly hundreds of civilians?!” Shouted Rijtsfaal, “Gebakken, there are children up there! Innocents who have nothing to do with the Emperor and by blowing that pile of explosives there, you will be killing them all!” “The hardest choices require the strongest of wills,” Gebakken said coldly, “Only by killing the Emperor would we be able to free our beloved Country from the grasp of the Imperials, even if it needs hundreds of innocents to die along with it,” “You are a monster Gebakken,” said Rijtsfaal, his grip on the gun had steadied, knowing full well what he needed to do next. “I know I am, Rijtsfaal, but that is what it takes to free this country,” Gebakken’s eyes locked with Rijtsfaal, memories were played back of them being friends for the past few years. And now here both of them were, torn apart by morals and goals. Before Rijtsfaal could respond properly due, Gebakken rushed at him, grabbing the Luger and throwing it out of his claw and pushing him to the floor. Before running over to the boxes of explosives. Rolling over onto his stomach, Rijtsfaal lunged at Gebakken, throwing them both to the floor. Gebakken began threw a claw at Rijtsfaal face as he tried getting up again, before having his feet knocked out underneath him. Screaming, Gebakken pulled a knife out from a pocket in his clothing and took a slash at Rijtsfaal’s face, earning him a few seconds to pull out the detonator for the E-4s. Seeing the detonator, Rijtsfaal threw two punches at Gebakken who dodged his opponent’s attacks and responded with another swing of the knife. This time, however, the knife missed it’s intended target and Rijtsfaal was able to grab the arm holding the knife and twisted it, eliciting a scream from Gebakken. And causing him to drop the knife. Gebakken proceeded to use his right claw - holding the detonator - to throw another punch at Rijtsfaal. Causing him to let go of his opponent’s arm, and followed swiftly by Gebakken kicking Rijtsfaal using his two hind legs. Throwing Rijtsfaal back against the wall. Running towards the boxes, Gebakken threw open one of the boxes, revealing it’s white contents. And stabbed the detonator into it. This was the absolute crisis, the peak of their resistance against the Imperials. The operations, the captures, the sabotage, the entire eleven years of resistance hung in the balance. Suddenly, Gebakken felt a feeling of emptiness spread from within his body. Looking down, he could see the red pouring from his chest. In an instant, he fell to the ground, next to the boxes of explosives. He could see Rijtsfaal holding the pistol in his claws, hyperventilating. He tried to gather up his strength, to get up and finish the job. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t. He had failed... Gebakken, slowly drifted away... into the afterlife... Rijtsfaal dropped the Luger onto the floor, sweat soaking his entire clothing. Rijtsfaal continued to look at Gebakken's now lifeless body, blood staining the floor. Soon, what he did properly hit him, he just killed his friend. A friend he had bonded with over several years within the resistance. Rijtsfaal began crying, he lost a friend today at the cost of saving several hundred lives. Was it worth it really? He thought to himself, to have a friend die in exchange for hundreds of innocent lives he didn't know about? Rijtsfaal slowly got back onto his claws, picking up the Luger and placing it back inside his clothing. Using a claw to wipe his tears as he walked over to the boxes. The small detonator was still stuck in one of the E-4 Explosives, standing out in its metallic shell in comparison to the explosives white shade. Grabbing the detonator slowly, he pulled it out of the E-4 Explosives. There was a mark left behind in the explosive, showing where Gebakken had frantically stabbed the detonator into. Closing the box, Rijtsfaal turned his attention to the detonator. It was small, similar to one of the new pens that have been circulating recently. He broke the piece in two in a swift movement. He looked at Gebakken's body one last time before heading for the door. The smell of the sewers hit him again as he travelled back to the upside world... Was it worth it? He thought to himself one last time, what could be the possible justification behind it? He did it for his fatherland, his mind answered. His Fatherland, Feathisia... Author's Note And thus concludes the story, a one about a Resistance movement going to radical means to achieve its goal. And one its members, not wishing to let a movement go radical, and take hundreds - possibly thousands, or more! - lives. I hope you enjoyed this story, it's probably going to stand out for a more different plot than most other Resistance stories which would probably once more paint that romantic picture of a ragtag bunch of guerilla fighters, storming the palace and overthrowing a corrupt dictatorship. As usual, leave the constructive criticism down below.
