Die Wilde Jagd Rivernode

[Das Wilde]

Die Wilde Jagd

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The Wild Hunt reaches out, yearning for revenge, but calling also for wisdom and patience. The clock has struck. The bells have rung. The war drums have sounded. Indeed, all this wait has shown that the suspicions were correct. Striking from Weimar, hidden deep inside the voids of Thuringia, was a weapon unseen and unsong of before. So powerful was this weapon, in fact, that not even the combined might of all Our largest shells yet could stop its march. At the behest of the Military and Intelligece, the husk by songs known as Kolleda moved forth against Our Kin of Valhalla.

This alien machine of war, in unison with the vast armada surrounding it, routed Our vanguard; the Schiller and the Einbeck, both, at once. So close was this call that We shall now request their immediate return into the depths of the Omegas, waiting for the berths at Kaarst to be freed up yet again. For both, this encounter will be the last for the following months; it is only sheer luck that saved Them, not strategy, nor Our prowess at causing chaos. Laying aboard Kaarst remains a Power Cell, which We shall use as described to Us and as planned out by The Einbeck: its power shall be redirected towards the reactors of cruiser and the battleship alike. How These will react is a matter for another chapter in Our Wild Hunt, but We shall figure that, too.

We reach out again.

Luck did not save everything -- or everyone. Valhalla, Our base within the Rheinland Seas, has fallen. The pulse sent by the firing of the Kolleda's main hardpoint, by a weapon We shall christen as Gungnir, by nature similar to the weapon of Odin, an Earthly God, has yet to engulf Thuringia whole, although it has destroyed Valhalla in full well by now. There, The Wild Hunt no longer possesses any defenders, nor any reasons to attempt any move to salvage the precarious situation. It is a most saddening course of events, but still one from which We shall learn.

As neither Einbeck nor Schiller remain around Our Seas, for the present, there shall be no more endeavors within Omicron Delta. Instead, We shall center Our efforts on assisting Kin of the Mainshare; Shozak has reborn into the Merciful and seeks ever-greater goals of relocating Omicron Iota's voidforms into Zeta and beyond. Conserve energy where and when possible, yet strike with ferocity and without mercy both in support of Shozak's finest, yet also against the oh-so-many lurkers in Delta.

[The collective shifts. It turns silent. Never before since the failure of the Alien Gate in Omega-58, decades prior, had The Wild Hunt suffered such a catastrophic defeat at such close a time to achieving its goals. Never before had The Wild Hunt been faced with such dwindling hope, with such a paradox. Truly, Pandora's Box was opened, its "prize" ready to be collected by Enlightened or otherwise. But there was still a looming light on the horizon, a flicker of a new future. Above this metaphorical horizon, however, laid the crest of Rheinland -- of True Rheinland -- carried proudly by the hull of one veteran vessel of the Nomad War: The Fenrir. There was, indeed, still time to prove their determination and tenacity.]