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House Feud III


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      Shocking as it may seem, the battle for Dune was over. The Atreides-Harkonnen feud lasting generations had been ground to a halt. After years of engagements, the Harkonnen had been placed into a corner on Arrakis.

  Sensing their defeat, the remaining soldiers stood strong for months on end. The Atreides consolidated their forces, which had been stretched to the brink, and prepared for a final thrust. Aided by the Fremen, the chances of survival against the loyalists were nil.

  Meanwhile, On Giedi Prime, the Baron had a much different plot. In the last months the number of soldiers sent to the desert hellhole had been slashed. It was for reason, however. Legions stood prepared for an assault on Calidan. The belief was that if the Atreides infrastructure was dismantled the forces lying on Arrakis would be sitting targets.

  With that, the assault began. The defenders were caught off-guard. Nothing like this had seen before. The home world was for the first time in the battle of Arrakis the prime target. For months the battled ensued. The Atreides forces consisted of civilians and a small amount of trained Special Forces. In one final stand, the Atreides led by Duke Paulus who later died in combat, began to push back the invaders. It was their loyalty that won the war.

  Even with their defeat, the Harkonnen managed to escape with a small amount of forces. It was over. The retaliation on Dune was monumental. Atreides forces seethed anger, slashing throats of their enemy and storming the lines.

  But for the Caladanians, their upcoming loss couldn't have been predicted. Their home world was devastated, and the economical gain from the proceeding two years of Arrakian control was primarily devoted to re-establishing their once lush land.


  Sensing weakness, the Ghobey moved in. A new war began. Severely outnumbered, many Atreides bases held off to the last man, choosing to destroy the technology and establishment before their opposition gained control. Once again stretched to the limit, House Atreides pulled out of Arrakis. The new Duke Leto didn't have but two years to make a difference.


  Weak leadership meanwhile crippled the Harkonnen ability to regain control of their assets. Ghobey was thereafter assaulted by IX, who launched their first military attack since their revolution. IX was defeated by a coalition of Harkonnen satellites who began to fight amongst themselves for control.

  Spice prices skyrocketed due to inefficient harvesting by weak forces. The Imperium cried out for a solution, but no military dared to attempt the feat once again as the looming destroyed Great House militaries remained etched in their minds. Retaliation came in the form of a weak Emperor. House Corrino had too lost many men in the fights for pointless causes scattered around the universe. Also able not to devote maximum forces, Corrino divided the Arrakian gains up amongst hundreds of Houses, Corrino holding the most

  Now, with the tattered remains of several Great Houses holding gains in Arrakis, the threat of a new war lingers over the horizon.


  Rules are normal as all House Wars: No God Modding, WMD, Biological/Mass weapons. The conflict is not limited to Arrakis, but with the devastation of the Imperium the only real economic gain seems to be held by Arrakis. Houses can be created and hold gains on Arrakis. Pick your House.

  I'll be the Atreides, but if anyone else really wants to be them then I'm more than willing to pick another (as long as it's early on).

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I confess, I don't see anything special about this thread. And I would prefer to see Factions 2 do well. But without activity from Dragoon, that isn't going to happen. And this is a tried and tested method. Very well, I'll join.

Takrin III is a large rocky planet, orbiting closely to a small yellow sun. Its path is greatly affected by the nearby masses of its closest neighbours, Takrin II and Takrin I. As a result, the planet moves in a very irregular orbit. Five hundred years ago it was mostly covered in ice, until a near-collision with Takrin I pulled it closer to the sun. This in turn forced the smaller Takrin II further out, encouraging most of the population to emmigrate to Takrin III. The two planets effectively swapped roles, with Takrin II now an ice-covered wasteland and Takrin III being the population centre.

Takrinsk, as it is known, has an iron-rich core and a strong magnetic field, as well as a thick atmosphere. It is mostly covered in water. It is also, however, an extremely active planet. The release of pressure as the ice melted half a millennium ago seems to have triggered a violent reaction.

Almost every landmass on the surface (and there are not very many) has been formed from a group of active or extinct volcanos. Earthquakes are relatively rare on these isolated outcroppings, but tidal waves caused by activity on the seabed are a regular occurance. The oceans themselves cover 94% of the planet's surface, and due to the innumerable undersea volcanos combined with the unrelenting heat of the sun, they are constantly scalding. The emissions from these submarine vents have rendered the waters of the planet dangerously toxic, as well as mildly corrosive. The largest life form yet found in these oceans is a small form of sickly-looking shrimp.

In short, sea level is a deathtrap. All static settlements are on mountains, or bunker-like protrusions with heavy armour. Transport is achieved by way of airship or glider, more economically viable than ornithopters.

One would think, given their complete lack of arable farmland and shortage of safe water, that the population of Takrinsk would be small and poor. Not so, due to one brilliant man.

Veniamin Destrym died four hundred and two years ago. He was a chemist and physicist, and in later life a politician. It was his team's work on the natural products of Takrinsk that allowed him to propose a bold new idea. The RBA. Really Big Airships.

The gases emitted from the planet's oceans contained high volumes of hydrogen and helium, easily separated from other gases and each other. Not only was this plentiful supply perfect for airships, it was more than enough to float even bigger things. This, coupled with developments in Richesian magnet technology taking advantage of the strong magnetic field of the planet, allowed Destrym to create the first RBA, 'Heurodis.' Small by modern standards, it was nevertheless over two hundred metres long and wide. It was this invention and its subsequent success that forced Destrym, an unwillingly famous man, onto the throne of Takrin III in a bloodless coup. House Destrym has ruled ever since.

There are now seven RBA, more affectionately known as 'The Seven,' or 'Floating Cities.' Sariya and Maral, the two smallest, are population centres and little else. Drathir and Sssiks, 'the twins,' are larger. Each is roughly circular and approzimately two miles in diameter, with five tiers. Drathir is the centre for research and technology, as well as the training grounds for Takrinsk's famed Martial Arts schools. Sssiks devotes itself to weapons research, and is closed to the public.

Undrentide and Anauria, the two largest Floating Cities, are multipurpose. They do some research, they do some basic training, they house several thousand people. Each makes a great deal of money from offworld visitors and tourists. They are also the planet's breadbaskets, growing most of the food for the other cities in their spacious gardens. Undrentide in particular is special, as at its core is the original RBA, Heurodis. It also houses the Shrine to Veniamin, revered as a saint by most of the populace.

The most beautiful city, however, is Arkhangel. The palace of the ruling House. Smaller than Undrentide or Anauria, it is also brighter, lighter, and faster. Glittering silver and white, it is both the private home of the Destrym family and the location of the embassies and state buildings. There is a small town for the palace staff and their families on the sixth and seventh tiers at the bottom.

House Destrym rules through it's head, the Countess Destrym. The current Countess, however, is old and critically ill. She has not left her chambers for three years, yet somehow clings to life. Her husband the Count died several years ago, just after the stillbirth that heralded the beginning of the Countess' illness.

Rulers of the House in deed, if not in name, are the Countess' two surviving children. Twins, they govern as regents until such a time as their mother dies. Prince Regent Rakhiel, the elder, stands to inherit the throne when this happens; and thus has most authority over foreign affairs and the military (comprised almost entirely of a powerful airforce. No navy, a tiny infantry). Her brother Luka prefers matters closer to home, and it is his 'agricultural' reforms that have boosted production and efficiency in food production and scientific research.

Currently, House Destrym is both stable and reasonably prosperous. The planet's medium-sized population does not cry out for expansion, and their economy is so structured that gaining land elsewhere would probably be detrimental rather than beneficial. However, the recent surge in melange prices have hit them uncomfortably hard. Though traditionally peaceful, the two Regents realise that unless they take what they can get, they may get nothing at all.

Well, that was needlessly long. I really should work on my summarising skills...

(Ix was formed by Richesian refugees after the Butlerian Jihad)

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We do not go by the prequels. The prequels are death. That's why I had House Ginaz destroyed in Factions 2. They're unnecessary.

chatfsh doesn't want to read the prequels? I like him more and more. 

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Heres my entry:

House Marmosia:

The planet Marmosia is a large planet situated at the same place where the Old Earth once stood. Little is known about the planet and its inhabitants because of its wasteland-like appearance, repelling the interests of explorers to venture in the "useless" planet. Only the planet's thick brown gas makes the planet look like a wasteland and it cloaks its vast lands and greatly populated cities.

The ruler of House Marmosia is King Xerxes Marmosia II. His late father, Xerxes, named the planet after the name of the House itself. Marmosians live mainly by digging for two abundant metals having iron as the most abundant, and a new metal known as ming201 (a soft type of metal that can be pressed into thin planks useful for light vehicle armor) as second.

During the reign of Xerxes I he employed the use of powerful warships and merciless warriors (sardaukar-like) to destroy hostile tribes in the planet. After his "accident", his son dismantled the old system of combat and employed his own fighting style: stealth (if any of u guys are familiar with C&C Generals: Zero Hour, its like Prince Kassad's tactics.) In the shadow of the night fighters silently approach enemy positions and take their enemies out mostly by the use of the k700 sniper rifle, a rifle designed by Marmosians themselves. At day they dig underground tunnels by the use of hand drills or the monstrous Mole Tank, a subterranean tank armed with 16 drills designed to make huge tunnels, even allowing siege tanks to cross. The fighters can also destroy armor-clad vehicles with the extensive use of explosives, primarily tripwires and mines. After the knowledge of sandworms in Arrakis, the Marmosians stopped using underground tactics and instead used their metals to build lighter tanks and a new weapon: aircraft. They built fighters, bombers, and drop ships.

King Xerxes II now rules the whole planet along with his wife, Maria and 2 of their teenage twins Ariel and Arnando. Primarily he is peaceful but when angered he tends to obliterate the fool who sparked his anger.

Few years later the family lost a large amount of money due to an earthquake that destroyed half of the capital city. Desperate, King Xerxes II now has no other choice but to fix their eyes and hands on melange, the spice...

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Yes, GriMFandag0, you can join. Welcome aboard.

As for all the others, it's good to see you along as well. What we need to do now is start posting. Here's my first entry. I should have one or two more out by sunday night.

It was the 6th month of the calendar. Fishing season began on Caladan. And in the same way it always did, the wind began to strut across the shores.

Leto could never quite recall the scientific explanation as to why the wind speed increased so suddenly, but he didn

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During his long, chaotic reign, King Xerxes had seen much, but he would rarely have even a short while of peace…

That is what Xerxes II thought of his father during his reign as king of Marmosia. Violence erupted on every part of the continent, no not continent but the planet itself. Rival tribes joined in a desperate attempt to bring the king down to his knees. However, with his brutal force of Legionnaires (the soldiers during the reign of his father) he destroyed every single bit of his ethnic rivals. Xerxes II remembered those stories his father told him after battling all day. As he looked down from his palatial tower, he saw the vast brown land just as how his father saw it, stained red with blood of countless Legionnaires and their enemies.

After wiping sweat from his forehead, Xerxes II activated the levitator pod and slowly descended down to the bottom of the large tower. As he opened the door, a former Legionnaire Commander Janus de Lorain approached him while driving a motor bike. The Commander bowed and said “Good morning Great One. We have bad news from our border guards. Some of the remaining ethnic pests are gathering on the other side of the Frostbite Mountain. They are amassing for a final attack against our defenses, which is of course too overwhelming for them to overcome.” Now Xerxes II remembered that these pests have underground villages. Even though his father eradicated them from the surface, he did not even try to check the subterranean parts deeper. If they try to attack us from the north, there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Such idiots.

Xerxes II did not take the matter too seriously. He can just order an airstrike to finish his enemies off even before they could see the missiles heading straight towards them. Take no prisoners, I want them all dead. A voice in his mind ordered him such barbaric cruelty that is not his nature. “Let them gather for now. At midnight, the land will run red with blood. If there will be blood.” Xerxes II said to the former Commander then turned towards the Palace.

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Meh. I was going to wait until the thread got going, but there's only so long one can revise the finer points of the mammalian digestive system...

Luka Destrym smiled affectionately as he ran a slender finger underneath the petals of his latest success. The lily tilted at his touch, vibrant colours almost glowing in the bright Takrinski sun. It was a truly beautiful creation. Seven long, ivory petals stretched out and curled ever so slightly back, each slashed with two long stripes of colour. Dark crimson and deep purple. The two colours shone in the sunlight, perfectly complementing the golden stamen that stretched out from the centre. Luka leaned back to better capture this moment, the culmination of months of work and research, of also-rans and beta experiments. The lily swayed gently in the high altitude winds.

Luka's smile shifted slightly as he tilted his head to one side, enjoying the feeling of the cool breeze flowing through his hair.

He did not know how much time had passed when he opened his eyes. It might have been a minute, it might have been several hours. The sky and clouds looked the same as they ever did. Had be been sleeping? Luka sighed, and reluctantly got to his feet. Wandering over to the handrail, he squinted up at the sun and did some quick mental arithmatic.

Plenty of time left. Still, best not tarry. Luka walked back to his prize, still sitting in her hydroponic container. He took another moment to admire her beauty - and perhaps congratulate himself a little, he admitted - before sighing and reaching to the deck, pulling up the protective covering that would protect her from any stronger winds or the occasional attack of acid rain.

"Be safe." He patted the transparent box twice, before turning and making his way back along the deck. On his left, the windowed garden that connected to his personal chambers. On his right, open sky. Glancing down, he could see the light reflecting off Drathir's silver and green gasbags. Further down, thin clouds moved smoothly across a steaming ocean. How very peaceful it looked. If he listened carefully, Luka could even hear the voices from the lower tiers, carried along by the wind. It was tempting to just lean on the grey handrail and watch the clouds go by some more. A tinny whistling interrupted the moment.

Turning around with a resigned expression, Luka increased his pace as he continued along his private balcony, slipping into the pause room outside his chambers. The whistling came again, louder now that he was closer to the source. Luka lifted the lid off the speaking tube.

"Was?" He asked over the whistle, trying to keep the impatience out of his voice. [Note: pronounced as in German. 'Vas.'] He put his ear to the tube as the whistler replied.

"Right." He spoke into the tube. "I'll be tzere shortly." Closing the speaking tube once more, Luka closed the door that led out to the balcony and stepped into his room.

It was modest, and he liked it like that. There was a time and a place for ceremony, for pomp and circumstance, and it was not in one's personal chambers. That was what the pause room was for, after all. Not to mention the various audience halls, meeting chambers, parade decks and the like scattered about the Seven Cities, as well as the Two Below. When the time came, Luka could be depended upon to wear the ceremonial robes, hold the ceremonial sceptre (or golden twig, as he occasionally refered to it. House Destrym had not always been as wealthy as it currently stood, and the original crown jewels still attested to that fact), and generally look the part of the authorative Prince Regent. But here, in this space, when it was just him and the sky, Luka prefered simplicity. He crossed the room to his wardrobe, his bare feet tingling on his one concession to luxury, a thick wolfskin rug.

Luka changed quickly, more in order to prevent further hassle from the speaking tube than because he wished to be early. He dropped his green-stained garments down the appropriate tunnel to be washed, and picked out a clean outfit in green and white. He always wore these two colours, no matter what the occasion. They were the colours of Takrin III and Takin II, white representing hope and green the colour of mourning. At first he had adopted these colours at the behest of his mother the Countess, in one of her attempts to get the people to like him. He now found that he disliked wearing anything else, though he did not know why. This was not a formal occasion. Simple linen trousers covered by a light robe, both white. Light green undershirt, white overshirt and a white waistcoat. An emerald set in silver, the symbol of his position as second in line to the throne, hanging as an amulet around his neck. No shoes.

Luka looked across to the desk nearby, hesitating for the slightest of moments before striding over and turning the mirror back around.

There was, he reflected, no great reason for him to dislike seeing his own reflection so much. He was not particularly handsome, but nor was he repulsive. He was thin, that was true, unhealthily so. The outline of his skull could be seen beneath his alabaster skin, despite his ravenous appetite. His snow white hair was still windswept, but he liked it that way. Oddly, his eyes did not bother him. Silver-grey Tleilaxu metal, the featureless orbs stared out at themselves without emotion or judgement. He had been told that his eyes were pink when he was born, but that the serious sight problems that accompanied his albinism had compelled his parents to make an unwilling decision, and have them replaced. Luka didn't particularly mind, but the people of Takrinsk had reacted badly. Even now there were elements that whispered of his possession by the dirty Tleilaxu.

No, it was his lips that Luka disliked. Thin and as white as the skin that surrounded them, they gave him a permanently dour expression. It was one thing to look serious, but quite another to not recieve any invitations to parties due to a reputation for sulking. His face was clean. Luka turned the mirror away again. Checking that he hadn't forgotten anything, he hurried out to the pause room.

On the way down, Luka reflected on the unhappy chain of events that had led to this latest in a string of meetings.

Problems on Arrakis. Several hundred years of terse peace as the planet changed hands, and now suddenly there was a new catastrophe every week. First people were attacked, and then they were dead, and then they weren't dead, and then they retaliated and then someone else died but they weren't really dead either, or were they...? Luka had grown tired of the mess a long time ago, but he was not so stupid as to think that he could ignore the problem in the hope that it would quietly go away. What happened on Arrakis would affect the entire Imperium, even a relatively quiet world like Takrin III. If the spice prices rose much more, the Takrinski economy would be one of the first to fall. Stable it might be, but only as long as the Heighliners continued to make regular stops at the planet. Expensive spice meant fewer trips. It meant fewer travellers and fewer traders. Without visitors and foreign merchants, Takrinsk would find itself in a very uncomfortable position indeed. Not for the first time, Luka contemplated the various Plan B's that he had been working on while his sister lorded it over the advisors and generals.

The most sensible option, perhaps, would be to attempt to weather the storm. The travellers might still brave the increased Guild fares, the planet might have to cut back for a bit but it could concievably survive.

But then, what if it didn't? Luka was unwilling to take such a gamble with the lives of his people. Takrinsk was perfectly self-sufficient for food and fuel now, but imports were still a major factor, especially since the planet had no trees. No, a better option would be to find a partner. Someone to jointly negotiate with the Guild, and provide backing to help the planet through the coming crisis, as well as the reprecussions of the previous troubles. It would leave the House in debt, most likely, but Luka had plans about that as well. The planet's reserves of natural gas were all but boundless, and it was still rich in many chemical products, as well as research capability. With the right financial backing, Luka felt sure that something beneficial to all could be worked out.

Which led inevitably to the third option. For House Destrym to sponsor, probably with a partner again, one of the hostile forces on Arrakis. Luka balked at the notion of involving his home planet in a war, but consoled himself with the knowledge that they would not be taking an active part. Support the fighters, share the spoils. The accompanying benefits should outweigh the effects of the war.

Opening his eyes sharply, Luka realised that the elevator had come to a stop. Realising that this was the second time today that this had happened, he resolved to retire to bed early tonight. Pulling the rattling door aside, he stepped out and into the Royal Corridors of Drathir.

There were people around now, bustling to and fro. His staff, mostly. Unlike his sister, Luka had never much cared for elevating himself above the masses. Again, this was probably due to his mother. In another attempt to gain the populace's acceptance of her child, she had insisted that he mix with them regularly. Obstensibly this was to ensure they would realise that he wasn't evil; but a side effect had been that Luka was now quite comfortable in a position where he could easily be assassinated. But then with security so rigorous on Drathir anyway, anyone who managed to land on the city was unlikely to pose a threat. The Prince Regent nodded his greetings to the men and women in his employ, and made his way along the corridors to the meeting chamber.

Next one won't be quite so rambling, I prom- no, I don't promise. We'll see. ;)

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Anyway, I've decided to join as House Huahin, my own creation, instead.

The Archduke stared out of his Palace for the first time in many years.  The planet had been under the control of the Harkonnens for almost three decades, but after the recent defeat of the Harkonnens in a major interplanetary war, they had only left a small occupying force on Glevum IV, which was being overthown by the resistance, led by the Archduke.  His father had been killed during the brutal Harkonnen invasion, and he had taken his revenge, leaving no Harkonnen alive.  The ruler of Glevum IV during the Harkonnen times, Igor Harkonnen, a distant relative of the current Baron, had been a heartless leader, imprisoning Huahinians without reason, and taking many women for his own personal use.  His end was just as painful as his rule, as half his face was blown off in an explosion, before fire engulfed his body.  The fire was put out, and the evil man was captured, still suffering greatly from the burns, and with his left eye hanging out his socket.  He was placed in the cellar of a nearby building.  When the troops returned, he was nothing but rat food.

The planet had been ravaged after many years of Harkonnen strip-mining, intending to leave the planet bare, and most of the planets inhabitants had been forced into hiding in the north, where the temperature never reached -20C, let alone freezing point.  In the north, the troops were rallying for a final assault on the last Harkonnen stronghold.

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