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Destiny of Empires [Diplo Game] [Story Thread 7 - April 2011]

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  • #31

    "Poor him" Catherine said, "What a fate! These French have pissed me now. It is not enough they attacked in the back the Ottomans, killing my scout, but they have the face to praise this to the whole world!

    Nu, legushka, nu pogodi" the mighty Queen said with her lips and her eyes squeezed in threat.


    • #32
      Originally posted by Germany (DoE) View Post
      To Ahmed,

      Have no fear, these are not pirates but Neanderthals!

      They are the Ghosts of Grunzen and friends of the Neanders have nought to fear.

      Vendeta, King of the Neander Line.

      "Bring me that report" boomed King Veneta. He glanced over it. "Those stupid neanderthals. Who is this Vendeta?"

      "Your highness, apparently they call themselves the 'Ghosts of Grunzen'. Upon his burial* in Grunzen City an ancient tribe of full blood Neanderthals set up a cave community and have existed without being discovered till now. They have a smart ass leader who calls himself Vendeta who managed to organize the building of this Pirate Ship."

      "I see, that is incredible discovery but such timing..."

      "Yes your highness, the ship, also called the "Ghosts of Grunzen" has set sail for Sardin which after the recent blockade has now become a pirate haven and is full of pirate ships."

      "Who will they attack, not us? And are the affiliated with the Turks? They seem friendly about them."

      "It is hard to say your highness."


      * note that Grunzen's son, Franzen's remains are in Inca hands.
      Attached Files
      Last edited by Germany (DoE); April 4, 2011, 00:11.
      The question of whether modern humans and Neanderthals mated when they encountered each other 40,000 years ago is highly controversial.


      • #33
        Apostolic Palace Vote

        An amazing result that will take Neander analysts some time to understand.

        Attached Files
        The question of whether modern humans and Neanderthals mated when they encountered each other 40,000 years ago is highly controversial.


        • #34
          Amram Goan was speaking to the Sanhedrin

          "Members of the Sanhedrin,

          There is war in Africa, after hundreds of years of peace.
          We knew that war would come. Peace of man is not Shalom of the Messiach.
          Many wonder what our position is in this war.

          I want to point out that my position has remained unchanged, we know what the aims are of Israel in the middle of the goiims.
          The israelian army though is in a ridiculous state. We must work on a better army for the case that the war turns against us."


          • #35
            "Your majesty... the pirates appear to have... disappeared... from Grunzen City" remarked Aysecan... blushing at her choice of words.

            "That is better than them appearing in Ottoman waters" the Sultan replied, lifting his eyebrow at her, indicating he noticed.

            "Not necessarily, majesty, as now we no longer know where they are... they could strike at any moment" Aysecan was confused with the Sultan's confident demeanor.

            "Nonsense" Sultan Ahmed waved his hand dismissively "Those pirates are at the bottom of Grunzen harbour... Veneta destroyed them... and in any case Veneta has given his word publicly that the "Ghosts of Grunzen" as he called them would not harm Ottoman vessels."

            Aysecan blushed again... loathe to correct the Sultan..." but Majesty, as you will recall, that letter was from the Pirate, Vendeta... not King Veneta"

            "What?!?" The Sultan exclaimed...." Why would one of these " Ghost" pirates be responding to my communiques to the King of Neandor?"

            "The letter was public, majesty" Aysecan was now bowing low... eyes cast downward, afraid to look the Sultan in the eyes..." I thought it more prudent to make all nations aware that..."

            "Silence!" Bellowed the Sultan, cutting her off..."You have embarrassed my friend, Veneta with your blunder... this was a delicate matter that warranted private correspondence, not public provocations. If I was not so pleased with your letter denouncing the French I would have your head cut off." The Sultan sighed, shaking his head and glaring at Aysecan.

            "Your majesty... I..."

            "Enough!... Now tell me about the three Neandor frigates that were in Grunzen City, docked alongside the pirate vessels." Ahmed clapped his hands twice... indicating that he was ready for his noon luncheon to be brought.

            Aysecan lifted her head..."They have been given to the French, obviously to be used against us."

            "Not necessarily," said Ahmed, stroking his beard thoughtfully. Veneta would not allow such an obvious Neandor attack on the Ottoman Turks.. I suspect their attacks will be limited to the Anglais... we will speak more of this after I eat..."
            Last edited by Ottoman Empire (DoE); April 4, 2011, 10:05.
            Mexico Emerges as a New Player on the International Stage - Mexico City Times


            • #36
              Originally posted by Germany (DoE) View Post
              An amazing result that will take Neander analysts some time to understand.

              Veneta stopped scratching his head.

              One thing was clear and that is the enemies of the Neander wanted peace with Neander. But why? They had declared war on Neander, achieved nothing but a blockade and now wanted peace?

              The only explanation was the Damn Anglais colonies. But why didn't Elizabeth just stop the blockade to test Veneta's word on not taking her colonies?

              Veneta was a true Gaulic Neanderthal and always struggled to understand the workings of women's minds. All Elizabeth had to do was just stop the blockade; and God knows what goes through Catherine's mind - twice declared war on the Neander and done nothing.

              In any event Neander now had an enforced peace with the whole world for 10 periods - a strategic advantage. Neander would soon have Ships of The Line and Grenadiers well before anyone could launch an attack on us.


              Veneta's mind turned to the peace process and shook his head in frustration. He knew London would never be returned to the DA but how could he convince the DA to follow a strategically sensible path that allowed England to recover as a global power in a world of peace and shared prosperity, yet at the same time acknowledged the realities of the European situation and the Australis situation.

              The picture in his mind was this (not publicised and can not be commented on):

              * Dublin remain DA
              * Iceland becomes DA capital
              * Sydney and Melbourne are transferred to India
              * Negotiate with India/Japan/China for retention of Port Moresby and any other deep Pacific Isles
              * DA South America remains
              * DA will NOT be blockaded by the Western Alliance (until agreed point far into future)

              * Inca negotiate with India for retention of New Zealand

              * Glasgow, Plymouth and York remain Viking

              * London remains French

              * France occupies all of NW Africa, formerly Ottoman Turk, maintaining consistent borders with the Mali

              * Arthurton becomes Israeli

              * The world community finds colonies for the Ottoman Turks - suggested ideas:
              1) Ask the Zulu about Madagasgar
              2) Ask India about the Darwin region of Australis

              Veneta smiled

              If only I could organize everything!
              Last edited by Germany (DoE); April 5, 2011, 09:49.
              The question of whether modern humans and Neanderthals mated when they encountered each other 40,000 years ago is highly controversial.


              • #37
                A New Man: Putabo

                Putabo Tupancho put an end to yet another messy succession after the death of Makato Guachullo. The Guacana proved themselves generally incapable of consistently bringing long-serving emperors to the throne during their middle period, although those they did bring on average worked out much better than previous norms.

                Putabo was the first of the three middle "New Coast Emperors". A celebrated technocrat, he ushered in a new golden era for the Inca economy. He was schooled in the academy in L'chulla, and later in Makato University in Capaco. His education took place during a revolutionary time in Inca academics, when the discipline of economics finally took hold in the universities, a science that would forever change the empire.

                Immediately upon taking charge, he set in motion numerous economic reforms that were the foundation for the long-lived golden age that followed. Among them was a liberalization of trade that resulted in a 50% increase in trade income, impressive for an empire already heavily export/import-oriented.

                At the same time, he cut back on government bureaucracy at the local level, forcing the various provinces to restructure their existing, and largely corrupt, legal codes. This resulted in rapid growth of commercial and industrial enterprises.

                Putabo was a spiritual man, however, born in Caczcoyna, a Taoist city where no other religions were widespread. A religion born of philosophic traditions of peace and tolerance, he set the empire towards a more pacifist path, although he was a heavy believer in "transit in a non-hard manner, yet keep in mind that you should at all times bring with you in your hands an above-average sized piece of long wood." Indeed, he generally carried with him a tree trunk wherever he went, yet insisted on walking barefoot.

                And so, the empire's center of importance shifted away from L'chulla to Caczcoyna, where the central government's embrasure of economics created a massive shift towards commerce and trade in all schools, and fostered a similarly massive community of economists and traders in Caczcoyna proper, known as the "Tupancho School", which eventually would inspire the two great founding economists of the first golden age.

                Putabo was fanatically devout, yet quite secular and "liberal" in his domestic policies beyond the setting of a state religion. He favored an open society, and was not interested in the expansionism of the Guacana emperors, preferring to keep the borders of Incacona set where they were already.

                Still, as a Caczcoynan emperor, his devotion to the previously-settled Tupancha colonies in New Caczcoyna would make him take up that tree trunk at the first signs of provocation over their security. Indeed, any man wishing to remain alive would have been wise to not harbor even the thought of a doubt of their indivisibility with the mainland.

                His reign would be very long, having come to the throne at a young age, already admired then for his economic talents. He would rule for 65 years.


                • #38
                  Delhi Chronicle

                  Ptolemy Vayabagaran plans retirement

                  As part of the Indian tradition, Ptolemy Vayabagaran the Humble will be reducing his workload in a period of years to come, allowing for the transition to a new leader of India. The famous philosopher and diplomat Plato Yavisha has been selected by Ptolemy to be the next leader of the Indus riverpeoples now known as India. It is believed that his thinking on the ideals of peace will influence his relationship with nations across the world in India's continuing efforts to share its philosophies of Peace, Balance and Logic with an increasingly wartorn world.


                  • #39
                    The Second Battle of the Straights of Tangiers

                    It had been many a year since French and English naval vessels had battled in these narrow waters. It was an entirely different generation of sailors, and the ships were much different, but history was still there.

                    Captain Toulouse had been on board his new command for only 10 days. The frigate "Philosphe" was beautiful and functional. Neandor ship yards had done a wonderful job on her construction, as with her sister ships, "Lancier", "Terrible", and "Minotaur". But the crews were green, and still getting familiar with the new technology. Toulouse wished he could have several more months for sea trials and gunnery practice. It was not to be.

                    The blockade continued to take its toll on French cities. The naval victories in the north by the Vikings had eased the situation for northern France, but fishing and trade in the south was still at the mercy of the damnanglais. General Jugan felt that he had no choice but to send the new frigates and their new crews out to do battle with the more experienced English, hoping that numerical superiority would win the day.

                    As senior commander, Captain Toulouse gave the order, and the ships sailed out of Tangiers harbor to engage the damnanglais.

                    The four frigates sailed in a line abreast, with the smaller caravel "Terra" trailing. It was only a matter of hours before the English ships came into view, the two vessels on their usual patrol through the straights. The wind was right to ensure an engagement, and the French frigates closed the range with their enemy.

                    Toulouse's concerns regarding the inexperience of his crews was well founded. The English fire was faster and more accurate. He watched helplessly as his vessel was hammered into the sea by the leading English frigate, which appeared almost undamaged. A cannister of grapeshot killed Toulouse and the officers around him, and the "Philosophe" rolled onto her side.

                    The second English frigate was equally successful against "Terrible". The French ship fought bravely, exchanging broadside after broadside, firing until the end, which came as a sharp explosion, toppling the masts and splitting the hull.

                    "Lancier" was now engaging the first English frigate, having been able to cross its stern while it was finishing off the doomed "Philosphe". The English ship shuddered as cannon after cannon fired into its stern. But the English Captain was experienced, and despite the damage to his ship, brought it around quickly so the previously unengaged starbord guns could fire. The two vessels hammered each other for half an hour, shredding sails and sailors alike.

                    Finally the fire from the French ship slackened, and the vessel, with numerous holes at and below the waterline, started to settle. The English ship, almost as equally battered, drifted to leeward, its steering gone.

                    Meanwhile the remaining French frigate, "Minotaur", under the command of a young Captain Villeneuve, followed the "Terrible" into action against the second enemy ship. Villeneuve was an excellent sailor. He used the wind to his advantage to get in two broadsides before the English could reply. That early advantage, coupled with the damage "Terrible" had inflicted, was the edge Villeneuve needed. His ship took tremendous damage, and his crew serious losses, but their bravery and perseverance were rewarded when the English vessel starting listing heavily, with the crew abandoning the doomed ship.

                    The Caravel "Terra" was now able to play her part. With the remaining English frigate little more than a floating wreck, and unable to steer, "Terra" sailed across its stern, her smaller caliber cannon slowly battering the enemy vessel, until it too sank beneath the waves.

                    Debris covered the surface of the water, as did sailors, both alive and dead. "Terra" and "Minotaur" put out boats to pick up survivors.

                    "Minotaur" limped back to Tangiers. The blockade had been lifted.


                    • #40
                      The Daily Turkey

                      Messiah Child identified...

                      The supposed "Messiah Child of Turkey" reportedly grew up to be a scientist and inventor... It is he, not the Sultan's controversial, and sometimes deadly, science program that many are crediting with the fantastic leaps the country had made in technological advancement. Many claim that it was the Messiah Child who discovered the means to construct vessels that could traverse Oceans. Those close to the Messiah Child claim that he wrote a book, printed several copies of it himself, and distributed it to only his closest friends. He reportedly claimed it was the Ottoman Empire's "only hope." The Daily Turkey has been unable to obtain a copy, but much of the local fanatacism around the book is centered around his purported invention of the trans-oceanic vessel, and a concept he called "Manifest Destiny." The Daily Turkey will continue to follow this story as it develops.

                      Catherine the Great rumored to be in Africa...

                      Ottoman citizens fleeing Arthuron in the face of the French assault reported seeing the famous and beautiful Russian Empress Catherine the Great alone, astride her horse, on a hilltop in Egypt... Most experts dismiss this as fantasy, as it would be so dangerous to the life of Empress Catherine to be alone so near to the Advancing French Armies... Catherine is reknowed for her fearlessness and daring however, which is giving credence to the rumor... In fact the story has become so popular that it has become a sensation in Istanbul, leading to publications in local tabloids.

                      The Sexxstanbul

                      Famed Ottoman "Gentleman's" rag, The Sexxstanbul even ran a story about the latest sensation...
                      Mexico Emerges as a New Player on the International Stage - Mexico City Times


                      • #41
                        Ah, this is a good grunt, thought Veneta... he wondered if he would end up as a centrefold in The Sexxstanbul (OOC now there's an opening!)

                        King Phillipe had not yet destroyed the Ottoman Turk ships and Veneta wondered if this would improve his credibility with the Ottoman Turks. Veneta had not been happy about the massacre at Tangiers but couldn't complain about the loss of Carthage.
                        The question of whether modern humans and Neanderthals mated when they encountered each other 40,000 years ago is highly controversial.


                        • #42
                          "Your Majesty! Look at the Ottomans newspapers! You are there on the cover! Naked!" the Russian PR minister squeal entering the dusty field tent. "Do you want us to sue them for using this picture without our permission?"
                          "Why? No. It is not a secret to anyone how matchless my beauty is. After the dust settles, the whole world will know that only my justice can compare to it. Now we have more important matters on our hands." the Queen said bending over the table surrounded by her Generals and covered with maps, releasing the refined minister with slight wave away.
                          Attached Files


                          • #43
                            On the Road to Venetii

                            A cloud ahead of deep blue and white passed over the group and the small ridge they stood upon. Ahead of the ambassador, the men had stopped. A silence had befallen the group, their arms fallen to their sides, their arms fallen to the ground. A lost grip on the thread that had propelled them forward and kept them in that state of duty had loosed their hands and pried their weaponry from them. The metal fell to the rock below, cracking it in obdurance as the earth forced its will upon the deadly implements, and as they in turn took their toll on the earth for such impudence, to not only force them from their high position but to also then to smash into them as they fell under its power.

                            The ambassador approached warily and slowly crested the hill. The searing, endless sky slowly gave way to an endless ocean of searing white waters, frozen in enormous waves and gigantic ripples, the small group of men trapped in its impossible magnitude, a scattering of jetsam from a long-past vessel.

                            The ambassador, previously a man composed of the very rock he now stood upon, turned to stone. His face fell like a ton of bricks, his arms as well crashed silently and in slow motion into his self.

                            For a long moment, the men stood frozen. From certain angles, one unaquainted with the situation could be forgiven for believing them statues of ancient origins lost in the sands that blew over an ancient empire. Here, the statues of Ozymandius, bearing witness to the great deeds of their kin through the ages.

                            But the winds whipped through, and brought such life and animation to their cloaks so as to compensate for the death and repose of the bodies beneath.

                            Ashen features of brow and cheek, blasted and soaked through with the dust of a stricken land, were consumed by the sight before them, lost in its haunting face. Above, the sun pierced through the high, heavy clouds of late summer, intermittently forging the land into some new shape; below, ripples of darkness crossed slowly through the sands. Once, these lands had been green; once this world had been a place of creation, where in summer the rains would come and soak the soil, the seeds would devour it with the greed of life, and from that mixture of death and sediment, shoots of yearning would press into the observant sky, and in their time would in dieing gasps proclaim their brilliance and desire in an explosion of color for the heavens' warm and glaring eye to see, then fall, withered, into the mire from which they came, and into which they had always been firmly rooted.

                            But the rains had stopped so long ago, the world had warmed, and warmed, and in time fertility was lost to this sea of heat and haze. The waves here rolled over the years rather than seconds, and fell hard upon tall moutains, broken and cracked from the eons, consigned to watching history slowly follow its course.

                            A tragedy had befallen this land. And into this land the people of another world had come and established an outpost, a small place, one of simple lives lived in quietude and placidity among the white sea.

                            The cloud ahead passed on, and the sun again bore down heavily on the men. The ambassador, lost for a permanent moment in serene shock, was brought back into being through the stroke of fire that now invaded his every pore. Ahead, the sight of what was once a beautiful desert town, a hidden pearl in the Ottoman realm. Few had ever seen what he was seeing now. Not the destruction, but the very place itself. Few would dare journey through such a place, the sun took many foolish enough to try, the scorpions and snakes took most of the rest.

                            But here none of these had been the end of the small town of the oasis, once a respite to wayward travelers and bureaucrats. The will of men and iron had taken this last outpost and returned it as well to the arid mire.

                            The group slowly brought themselves back to their task, and they moved on into the town. The walls were mostly turned to shards and rubble, the roofs collapsed, the various implements and products of man broken and laying haphazardly around the ruins. Into holes and crevasses the men peered, seeing nothing but darkness in the interiors where not even the sun could now penetrate. Some tattered rags fluttered in the winds, but otherwise there was no sound but that of some squeaking metal and clacking pottery.

                            Some of the walls and sands were streaked in dark red, and in some corners laid the parched bones of past inhabitants. On the streets were the prints of a thousand boots and hooves, heavy in the sands, and all over were the marks of iron points.

                            The Inca flag flew slowly through this sepulchre, a single small golden torch in the dark of human night. And to it came the last moth of the oasis, in old beggardly form, a sunken catastrophe of cotton and flesh, leaning heavily on a crutch of white bone. Dumbstruck, the men watched as it flapped towards them, hideous and bleak. No butterflies here, no colors but those of decay. The moth came to, and as if mortally seared by the flag, collapsed onto the ground, contorting itself into the very Form of pain itself, the Earth's offering to the sky above of the perfected work of art, the pinnacle of the expressions that pain would give unto our race.

                            The moth slowly shriveled into itself as it emptied itself of what little liquid remained within it through ducts of pain, quickly dropped to the rock below, and just as quickly sucked into the air, evaporated, meaninglessly, into a vast expanse of emptiness and aridity. From these drops no life would spring on these infertile fields, only the oppression of a waterless and sunbaked oven to devour any such hopes as soon as they found themselves expressed in a real, physical form.

                            The moth bent upwards, racking itself to peer directly into the eyes of sympathy, one last glimpse of humanity it thought forever lost to it. As the sheet between sun and sand blew past, her eyes filled with blinding light, her body and clothes glared with its reflected purity, and to these men she spoke her final words:

                            "My husband, he said he would always carry me through my life, and so he has."

                            Her face planted into the ground, her body crashed behind it, and the white bone tumbled away from her.

                            The silence had returned, the men made of rock again, and in time the woman was buried along with her city, and the ambassador faced Europe again, turned his back on this place, soon to be lost forever to the shifting sands, and repeated in his mind with every step on his way to Venetii:

                            "Where is it I am going? What men am I taking myself to?"


                            • #44
                              George Washington stood in his study at Mount Vernon, his wonderful home overlooking the Potomac river. Ah, this America, a marvelous thing, he thought. Finally they had gotten rid of what the French so aptly called the 'Damnanglais'. America was finally free and pure. True Americans. **** yeah.
                              But, over the horizon loomed new hardships. Many people had been coming up to him lately, saying things like 'It's the economy, stupid', and 'Change!'.

                              Recently, he had been welcoming envoys from France and Russia, two nations from across each ocean. He had been amazed by their technology, their wisdom. They were in some kind of great war over there, and he had been quick to proclaim America's neutrality. But out here, in these here parts, they were still cavemen compared to these amazing people. It was indeed time for 'Change!'.

                              It was time for the Americans to become connected to the rest of the world, to finally throw off the burden of hundreds of years of colonialism and hardship, and to shine, to become a beacon, a city upon the hill!

                              'Excuse me mr. President?' said the painter.

                              'Eh, whatnow?' said Washington, startled.

                              'Mr. President, you were mumbling and stretching out your hand, sir. Please try to stand still?'

                              'Well darned son, paint me with an outstretched hand then.'

                              Last edited by America (DoE); April 7, 2011, 05:33.
                              So I go, and do what I can ~ Dwight 'Diplo' Eisenhower


                              • #45
                                Voina i mir

                                While some nations are working hard on the diplomacy front trying to bring this war to an end, others, like the French, are working hard of the real front. Catherine came to see with her own eyes how bad is the situation in Africa and she knew that the French have razed third Ottoman city in a row now. It seems that they are not keen on ending the war and are aimed for achieving their goals pure by means of war. Lets see if Russian intervention can change the minds of those warlike and arrogant French. Matushka Rus sends its sons from the frozen north to the sweating heat of Africa to teach some lessons the cruel frogs.

                                Inspired by the titanic scale of the conflict, he Russian writer Lev Tolstoi finished the first volume of his monumental book "Voina i mir"

                                Attached Files