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Destiny of Empires [Diplo Game] [Story Thread 11 - August 2011]

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  • Destiny of Empires [Diplo Game] [Story Thread 11 - August 2011]

    This is the Story and Diplomacy Thread for the Diplo Game "Destiny of Empires" (DoE)

    The purpose of this thread is to post in-character story posts and diplomacy for this game. Please discuss all organizational aspects of this game the Organization Thread.
    Use your Anonymous Apolyton Game Account to put posts in this thread.

    Destiny of Empires is a diplomacy game.
    The players try to rule their empires like they are real. Role playing and story telling is an important way to achieve this.
    Fore more information visit the Diplogame FAQ by OzzyKP

    For more information visit the Organization Thread.
    Last edited by Robert; August 3, 2011, 13:55.

  • #2

    Hakon Mjoveson stood diffidently before Jarl Eirikson, “My lord Jarl?”

    “Yes, Hakon, what is it?” replied Jarl Eirikson softly.

    “Sir, I am wondering if you know anything about the recent events? The men and women of the military are talking about all the strangeness that has occurred.”

    “Ah, you’re speaking about the day that seemed like it would never end correct? Yes, it was very strange.” Jarl Eirikson shuddered.

    “Sir. I’ve heard many rumors.” Hakon hesitated a moment before proceeding, “Some say that it is magic. Some say that the gods of all of the various nations are angry at us. I’ve even heard some that blame it all on the Ottoman/Aztec war.”

    “Well Hakon, you’re not wrong.” Jarl Eirikson sucked in a breath and held it a moment before expelling everything in a great sigh. His shoulders slumped as he sagged in his chair. “I don’t really know how to tell you this. I probably shouldn’t tell you. I’m not even sure I believe it myself.” Jarl Eirikson sighed heavily again.

    “Whatever you tell me I will believe my lord. You have never led me wrong before.”

    “I thank you for the trust. I wish I could place the same in Mr. Wednesday.”

    Hakon looked shocked, “Mr. Wednesday sir? Why would you doubt him?”

    “During the day that wouldn’t end I was heading toward Heimdallr’s office to report to him as usual. What I saw there was so…well, I just can’t believe it. But it must be true. I saw it with my own eyes. Would that I were struck blind before entering Heimdallr’s room though.”

    Hakon leaned forward, “But sir, why?”

    “I saw, Hakon! I saw it with my own eyes! A rip in the very fabric of the world. As I examined the rip I saw 18 men on the other side. Giant, ugly men! One of them looked like Mr. Wednesday only horribly transfigured. As I thought about it I realized that each one of them looked like gruesome caricatures of all the leaders of the world. They were dressed in the colors we associated with each nation. And they were cackling greedily. As I watched, one of them pointed a ham-like finger at an army and it moved. Just like that. Another pointed at a city and I could see it open up so he could start moving all the citizens around with a flick of the finger. It was…surreal. The two beings that represented the Aztecas and the Turks kept bickering back and forth about when they would be able to take their turns, whatever those are, while another kept saying he could ‘unpause’ soon. When he finally unpaused, the endless day ended. Just like that. I ran to my room, and…well I’ve been trying to drink myself into oblivion since. I don’t know what to make of this.”

    “Sir, this all sounds, fantastical. But I believe you. What do we do now?”

    “We need to figure out what to…”

    “ALL RIGHT MEN! THAT WILL BE QUITE ENOUGH!” a booming voice from behind shook the two men from their thoughts. Jarl Eirikson looked around guiltily as Mr. Wednesday stepped from behind a tapestry. “This is something that should NOT BE KNOWN!”

    Jarl Eirikson stood defiantly, “But sir, I saw this with my own eyes. It did happen. And I’m going to tell everyone about the rip so that they can see it themselves.”

    “No, you will not. The rip has been repaired. And the only two mortals that know of it are standing before me,” Mr. Wednesday smiled, a look that appeared wholly sinister and malevolent on his dark features.

    “Are you…are you going to kill us?” Hakon asked in a small voice?

    Mr. Wednesday sighed, “No Hakon, you two are among my best administrators. I will not kill you. But you may not know of what has gone on here. Instead you will just…forget…” Mr. Wednesday waved his hand and the two mortals suddenly developed slack-jawed, glazed looks on their faces.

    “Now then Jarl Eirikson, I will have your report on troop movements out of the Mediterranean. First thing in the morning?”

    “Uhm, yes sir.”

    Mr. Wednesday sighed and left the room.


    • #3
      Captain of Team Apolyton - ISDG 2012

      When I was younger I thought curfews were silly, but now as the daughter of a young woman, I appreciate them. - Rah


      • #4
        Official communiqué of the Ministry of trade of Mali:
        Mali communicated to all interested nations of Mali that scientists have created a new breed of smart pigeons that can carry messages and their range is 3,000 kilometers. Anyone who wants to buy this rare breed pigeons and their coaches who will feed them and train. For more information, contact the nearest Embassy of Mali.
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        pigeons of Mali and their coaches.
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        Mali offers trained crows with 4000 km range.


        • #5
          The great plague of 1756 had run its course. Punaco sat quietly in his bedroom, overlooking the courtyard below. The early afternoon sun barely penetrated the room, seeing fit to hand lazily about outside, bouncing the odd ray up into the estatone's quarters. In his dark contemplation, Punaco observed his servants and estatitones below. In his thoughts, he passed by this fact, and it gave cause for him to smile so slightly, recognizing the luck of having been born in this century, despite all the catastrophe and peril, rather than in some time prior to the linguen modernizatin. Oh, what a mouthful the ancien lingue had been! Or, rather, what they called it at the time, the "pullano'tazchatakallapta'chia." What sort of people would come up with such a useless and complex language? It was as if someone had taken the refined, modern tongue and substituted two different, random letters for each of the modern ones! But, that would be a ridiculous thing for one to do...

          Now, there was reason to it all, finally, but what reason had been brought to the Inca tongue had been stolen from the Inca world. Yes, great railways now linked the major Inca cities, and trade and commerce were exploding with the new "corporationes", and the promise of "autoes" and new ships held a bright promise for his later years, but so many were his world's ills now that he could hardly look forward to such a removed state as "next decade"...

          The Aztec finally come into their own, with their own navy - or should he call it the "navie d'Aztec" - and armed force to match, and the hemisphere boiling in armed conflict between major European powers. The English contentedly on the sidelines, and his own government now following suit, while distant European and Asian powers vied over a sea that even the so-proximate Inca had decided unimportant to their interests!

          "What reason is there in that," he mumbled to no one in particular, distraught over the new shape of his hemisphere. Back in his thoughts, he brooded over Japanese late payments and the costs to Inca for such, over the distance of the Natives and the plight of the Americans, over the Indians and Chinese and all other nations of the world, over the loss of the Arabian client-state after their independence movement took the Emperor by surprise, and over all the calamities of the past decade.

          Yet, all of these issues were but distractions from the truly great events of consequence in his recent life.

          "Plague pe somnambulin," came out spitefully and horrified from under his breath, then slipped back in with the next. Yes, the plague that had beset the globe for the past, what was it, ten or twelve years? The plague of slow death, comatosis. The plague that had swept through the globe in a fortnight and put the entire machinery of civilization to a stand-still for so many long years. That darkness, still now unresolved, still not passed to the next morn. That plague, what terror.

          He remembered when he first saw it, first heard of it, in the "first year of 1756". In the market, a man, no, a shell of a man, sauntering slowly through the stands, mindless. His hands a cold, icy white, slowly drifting past the apples and potatoes; his dry, cracked shoulders pressing the traders and locals out of his way. His eyes lost, as though a blind spot in Punaco's own vision. He remembered trying to look at the man's face, to see his eyes, but saw everything but the man's eyes, as though the entire world around him was reflected in those two recesses all at once, causing the inexplicable sensation of seeing a distinct facial feature while at the same time seeing nothing but a small part of the whole scene, a subject completely lacking form or distinction, irreconcilable even with its own frame. And then, in an instant, those shards of uncertainty became transfixed on Punaco's own eyes, and where before had been a kaleidoscopic fugue in miniature now blazed a deep fire which at once pierced and stunned Punaco's sense. In that moment, the shambling figure came alive and broke from his dreary walk into a charge of ferocious rage. Transfixed still in those facial embers, Punaco could only stand aside from himself and watch as this monster rushed into stall and began to tear at Punaco's body. Punaco watched as this thing was, a moment before trying to rip out Punaco's throat with its teeth, pulled away by a crowd. And then Punaco was released from his spell as the thing's gaze transfixed upon the multitude, and raving and flailing went about ripping and gnawing as many as it could before finally being subdued by the butcher's assistant.

          That had been the first experience, but it was soon followed by more, and then more, as the plague spread throughout his city. Government had been suspended, and with it time itself. Yes, there would be many "year 1756"s as the sun spun its course and the plague continued to spread.

          So, Punaco had retreated to his farming estate, and with his estatitiones had built up a fortified villa that saw out these years of mischief in relative security and peace. The cities continued to burn and riot with wave after wave of infection and chaos, yet here in the country only the occasional victim wandered, yet unmolested or subdued by the now many armed and vigilant estates. The cities slowly emptied, and life returned to the clien-estatioe model of antiquity, albeit one of extreme strain and congestion, as to move a city block onto a farm was still a difficult task. But in the process, Punaco found his status and wealth increase greatly, as the many less fortunate and panicked city-goers flocked to him for shelter and food, and he had many an opportunity to turn away or expel those he saw unfit or overly proud for service on his land...

          Now, finally, it seemed the storm was breaking, and time again was moving forward. The government restored in Capaco, the people were moving back into the cities, but many still remained, scared at a return of the plague. Indeed, there were yet hotspots in the outer provinces. Kassito was all but quarantined now, as were the Russian fjordlands of the Southern tip, and New Caczcoynaco was an unqualified disaster without immediate hope. But here in the coastal hills of the Old Coast life was slowly returning to some order, just as the wars over the Leftsea returned from their long, forced ceasefire.

          Many were now claiming that it was a new god that had brought an end to the plague. That the old gods had been preoccupied with its birth to enforce sanity in the world, and with their long absence from the scene, disorder of mind and body had followed. This new god was claimed to have been incarnated in a great fireball seen in the sky for many nights and days about a year ago. It was as though a second sun, yet oval in shape, with a bright ball at the one end. It had the appearance of an olive, many said, and from this the name of this new god was crafted "Solivia", the fruit of the sungod. This new deity had at last saved mankind from the darkness of divine apathy, and to it now millions in Incaco prayed for their preservation and the progress of humanity, and that this god would, finding its new position in creation acceptable, "settle in place", and maintain order and productivity throughout the world of man. As such, the letters "SIP" were carved in every shrine and monument in the Empire, and "Solivia be praised" became a common greeting among rulers and ruled alike.

          Yet, Punaco put no faith in such things, only his firearms and now vast estate would preserve him. His thoughts then turned to the future, what little piece of it he dared to consider at present, and with it his eyes moved to the villa complex on the hill beyond his courtyard. The occupants were quite resistant to his attempts at being bought out, yet he had learned of a weakness in their walls that a bought-off estatitione had told him about, and -unknown to no one but a few- he had now half a dozen plaguiones in his cellar, quite well fed and tortured into a rage that would make them a true match for that villa's arms...

          and in this manner Punaco Kaesaro spent the rest of his siestio in contemplation.


          • #6
            ras Moussa called the Minister of Health of Mali. When he came he asked him "what are these rumors of plague in South America,"
            "My lord do not yet have precise information but we know for sure is that the patients died between 3 and 5 days after being infected and survive only young and healthy people and not always "
            " I will betray order ships coming across the Atlantic to stay 6 days at anchor in the harbor and then the passengers and crew will be able to get off the ground in Mali "
            " My lord this is a sensible measure "


            • #7
              Mali, it was a worldwide plague! You don't remember? You are starting to talk like a plague victim...


              • #8
                Mali is not a victim, the guardian of the throne of Mali just wants to protect his people. Mali thinks is a mistake in translation, Mali did not want to affect the Sons of the sun.


                • #9
                  "My lord Jarl is this another day that will not end?"

                  "Yes Hakon, it appears so."


                  • #10
                    It seems that the plague nation of Mali has acted as a reservoir from which the new outbreak has spread...


                    • #11
                      Official communiqué of the Ministry of Commerce of Mali:
                      Mali offers for sale the latest invention of their masters. This is a manual washing machine is tested and works twice as fast as the fastest washerwoman of Mali. buying this invention you will be able to spend more time with your favorite women or to give it more time cooking and cleaning for example.
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                      • #12
                        The Vikings have gifted Riflemen to the Indians, in strict violation of terms of the war agreement.

                        If no reasonable explanation is quickly forthcoming, China will declare war on India and end this war for good. Vikings will be considered enemies of China as well and we will find a way to exact revenge.

                        We demand an answer, India, are you utterly incapable acting honorably? This term that you throw around so often, does it mean whatever is convenient to you at the moment?

                        Let the record show that China has never in our history gifted units to any nation.


                        • #13
                          As was explained to China before, the riflemen were the remainder of a debt that the Vikings owed to India for many years for a deal that was made long ago.

                          I had no knowledge of your war agreement against units. All I was doing was finishing up my debt to India. I have no wish to incur the wrath of the nation of China, but the Vikings are an honorable nation who keeps their word and pays their debts.

                          The Viking nation has absolutely no ties to the Indian nation beyond that debt. Now that the debt has been paid all ties are finished.


                          • #14
                            Great Sea Battle decidedly won by India in the West Indies islands!

                            Response to China:
                            If you have matters to discuss with us regarding our agreement related to this war contact us through the Ottoman mediators.


                            • #15
                              Communique form the Arab League

                              It saddens us to see what greed makes to once honorable nations. The Chinese got so low that they are now threatening, bullying those who are weaker instead of helping them. It is the Indians who had been attacked yet the Chinese only see this as an opportunity to grow even larger.
                              We ask those who have kept their integrity and able to stand against this superpower to do something to prevent the catastrophe. We are especially counting on the Noble Russians and Incas to step in and stop the Chinese aggression.

                              A side note: The Arab league is angered by the Viking insult: first they have sent soldiers into our territory without our permission and then they refused to even answer our diplomatic letter. We decided that we will still allow viking traders to enter our territory as before but no other type of unit. Violation of this will result our borders to be closed immediately.

                              King Salam Abdus