French Succession Game Play/Read/Enjoy

[FNBrown]

I agree that a war on another continent would be foolish. It would be very expensive, and any cities we capture or settle would be so corrupt they'd be useless.

I would not mind conquering the rest of our continent; but I don't think we should do so unless provoked.

The advantage of placing the Forbidden Palace as far north as possible is that it gives us a shot at winning a few more cities via culture flips. Perhaps going to war with the Aztecs, getting a leader, and taking a city as far into their territory as possible, then rushing the FP there would be a good tactic...

Just my two cents... overall, I'm quite impressed with our collective progress so far.

- Franklin

[Major_Tom]

OK, sorry, I've been sick all week, my sister's been sick all week, and I haven't had time to do anything

Try to fit me back into the running. Thanks.

[Harovan]

If you are unable to play, it would be nice, if you drop a note and don't let us wait. If Fredric Drum doesn't appear till Feb 16th, I would not mind to let you in as the next, but I am not the keeper of the playlist.

Ideas?

[Giovanni August]

Originally posted by FNBrown
I figured it was time to post the order again... I think this is correct, but please let me know if I've left anyone out, or screwed up the sequence at all...

(top)
[JMarks]
Eddy Eat World
Gillskill
Sir Ralph
Fredric Drum
FNBrown
Giovanni August
(bottom)

Well major Tom!
This is the list! I guess you will probably have to play your turn after me (finally I will not be any more the last of the list)
but you can also jump ahead and play instead of Fredric Drum (that means NOW) since it looks like he is not taking his turn (if FNBrown agrres with that of course)

Ps
Where is JMarks on the list.... he should be the first one, right?

Saluti

[Harovan]

Our fearless empire founder doesn't participate anymore. Found here.

[Giovanni August]

Oh I see!
We will not have a descendant of the Holy Markavian Dinasty anymore!
I didn't see that messagge (or i just forgot abiut it).

Saluti

[Harovan]

Now it's your chance to jump in, Major_Tom. Make your 20 turns till Feb 19th and post the savegame and your story here.

[Major_Tom]

Well, I should start now before I forget again OK, here goes.

[Major_Tom]

You know what? I've decided I will bow out of the running and simply watch France as, uhh, a fan I guess.

I'm sorry, but the turns just seem so long I feel like I'm never going to reach the 20th turn.

Plus I'm really not good at Civ 3 and I've never made it to the Industrial Age. However, as I said, I will stick around, but I probably won't play.

Sorry guys. Hope I didn't disappoint you too much.

Major_Tom (my friends call me Major Idiot)

[Harovan]

Yes, it's a huge map and turns last long. Can you make at least 10 turns? That would be ok too. And don't worry, as long as you don't backstab the Germans, you can't make much wrong in that game. Just read the suggestions that were made.

[FNBrown]

Hmm... and here I was thinking about backstabbing the Germans on my next turn...

[Harovan]

Alas, seems Major_Tom can't even make 10 turns. I think it's your turn then, FNBrown.

[FNBrown]

Ok... I'll download the saved game and try to get my turn in this evening.

[FNBrown]

The Reign of Emperor Franklin III

Introduction, Part One

It was a brisk autumn morning in the year 1530 when Reginald Escargot entered the main gate of the great palace on his first day as Captain of the Guard. He had been selected by the Minister of Defense to command the elite company of musketeers that would serve as the personal bodyguards to the Emperor of France.

The fact that France was currently without an emperor did not deter him from feeling a great sense of pride over his new station.

Reginald was waved through the guard station and dismounted his steed at the foot of the steps leading into the main building. He patted the animal affectionately on the neck; the stallion, who he had named “Man ‘O War,” was a spectacular thoroughbred of fine breeding and possessing legendary speed. Reginald made a tidy profit standing him at stud at his ranch north of Edaron in the springtime.

He reported to the Defense Minister Winston Churchill’s office at 8:00 a.m., sharp, just as ordered. Churchill welcomed him in, returned his salute, and then gestured towards the seat in front of his desk.

“Captain Escargot, I’m sending you to London for your first assignment.”

Reginald was a bit taken back. “Sir, I don’t quite follow. I had expected to begin assembling my staff and training my company.”

Churchill furrowed his brow and glared. “Your expectations can be damned. You report to only two people – myself and the emperor. No exceptions. When you are under orders from this office, they supercede all other military authority. This policy has been disbursed throughout the chain of command.”

Still befuddled, Reginald replied, “I meant no insubordination, sir. I was under the impression that I was commanding the palace guard.”

Churchill chuckled. “Palace guard, indeed. Any one of the troops under your command has twice the training and battlefield experience that you do. You were chosen to this post because you were educated, well-connected, and yet, without any significant living relatives; although I am rapidly losing faith in your education. The Emperor’s Guard is that in name only; we have an entire battalion of riflemen in the city to protect our fine capitol. Your unit was formed for special operations that require the immediate attention of myself and the emperor, and are to be undertaken by the most elite military personnel in the world. If you consider yourself more fit to serve as an overpaid guardsman, I suggest you submit your request for transfer to rifle battalion now.”

Reginald shook his head, “No, sir; I’m sure I’m fit for this assignment. I was just unprepared for these orders.”

“You’d better learn to be prepared for anything, Captain. Your job will never be safe nor easy, and your assignments will always be of utmost importance to the Empire of France. We are the world’s largest and most powerful nation, and we paid a heavy price of blood and tears to get here. It is our duty to ensure that we remain mighty; the future of the nation depends upon it.”

Reginald nodded. “Very well, sir. About the London mission…”

Churchill grinned. “You’re to take a small group of cavalry to the city with due haste. Contact Governor Blair and tell him you’re looking for Neville Chamberlain. Bring Chamberlain back to the palace immediately.”

“May I ask why? Mr. Chamberlain will surely inquire as to the nature of his summons.”

“You may tell Mr. Chamberlain that the Empire requires his assistance in locating the Ferus tribe of the Glittering Mountains. You and he will have the rest of your questions answered upon your arrival here. I suggest you hurry to the barracks now. You can make Dover by nightfall if you depart immediately.” Churchill leaned forward and passed a sealed document to Reginald, then took a cigar from the humidor on his desk.

“Will there be anything else, sir?”

Churchill lit the cigar and then replied, “No, you’re dismissed, Captain. Good luck.”

[FNBrown]

The Reign of Emperor Franklin III

Introduction - Part Two

Reginald entered the barracks adjacent to the palace. It wasn’t much more than a furnished warehouse, with rows of bunks and lockers along one wall and a few offices along another. The rest of the space was occupied with a few tables and mostly storage of various armaments. There were about a dozen men playing cards at one of the tables, and a few others reading or sleeping in bunks, or working in offices. When one of the men at the card game saw him enter, he jumped to his feet, saluted, and barked, “Ten-Hut!” The rest of the men got up and saluted in similar fashion.

“At ease,” Reginald ordered. “Who’s the senior office here?”

A large, muscular man with a graying crew-cut stepped forward. “That would be me, sir. Master Sergeant Louis Cologne at your service.”

“Sergeant Cologne, I need the four fastest riders we have mounted and ready to leave in ten minutes. We’re only going to London and back, so provisions can be light, but we’re at war, so arm them accordingly. We’ll be taking one extra horse with us.”

“Yes sir. Anything else?”

“That’s all. I’ll be waiting in the courtyard. Carry on”

Sergeant Cologne began giving orders as Reginald turned to leave. By the time he retrieved Man ‘O War from the palace and returned to the yard in front of the barracks, Cologne and three other men were already mounted and waiting.

“Gentleman, we’ll take care of the introductions when we stop at Dover for the night. Keep your eyes peeled for wandering Aztecs. Let’s move.”

The trip to London was uneventful. Reginald and his men arrived at Buckingham Palace at about six in the evening, and demanded to see the Governor immediately. Their orders from Churchill were sufficient to interrupt the Governor’s evening meal as he joined them in his office at the palace.

“What’s this about?” demanded the Governor. The people of London were of almost entirely British descent, and while England had been assimilated by the French Empire many years ago, there was still a great deal of pride amongst the English, and, in Tony Blair’s case, a bit of indignation at having his dinner truncated.

Reginald presented his orders to the Governor. “You are to direct us to the residence of one Neville Chamberlain immediately.”

Blair grunted. “Hmph. That won’t be a problem. Neville and I are well acquainted. But this can wait until the morning. You don’t need to be disturbing the man at this hour.”

Reginald glared. “Mr. Blair, I am here on official and urgent imperial business. I have been authorized to use whatever means I deem necessary to complete my mission with all due haste. That includes replacing you with an official that is more willing to obey the orders of the Empire without such hesitation.”

Blair raised an eyebrow. “Well. There’s no need to get cross about it. I’ll have one of my men take you to his estate right now.”

The Chamberlain estate was a large stone house not far from the center of London, surrounded by several acres of pasture and woods, and bordered by a low stone wall. Reginald knocked on the door and was greeted by a man who looked to be in his late twenties. “Yes? What can I do for you gentlemen?”

Reginald replied. “We’re looking for Neville Chamberlain.”

“That’d be me.”

“Begging your pardon, sir, but I was told to expect an older gentleman.”

“I’m Neville Chamberlain, Junior. My father has been dead for three years.”

Reginald, despite his attempts to follow Churchill’s advice, was not prepared for this. “That is unfortunate. We were sent here to retrieve Mr. Chamberlain so that he may assist us in locating the Ferus Tribe.”

Neville nodded. “Dad talked about them all the time. I always figured he was kind of delusional – said that the ghost of some emperor led him to these barbarians in the mountains, where he brought back the man that ended up being Emperor Franklin the Second. I think all those years he spent in prison kind of screwed him up.”

“Regardless, the Empire believes your father may have been able to find the Ferus Tribe. Perhaps he left a map?” Reginald held his breath.

“Dad kept a whole bunch of journals and papers from those days in a chest in his study. Hang on, and I’ll get it for you.”

Neville returned shortly with a small mahogany box. “I suppose you’ll want to take this with you.”

Reginald nodded. “I’m afraid I’ll have to be taking you with me, too.”

Neville protested. “What for? I don’t know anything about this!”

“Please don’t be difficult. I was ordered to bring Neville Chamberlain of London back to Markopolis, and you’re the only one about that fits the order. This is of critical importance to the Empire, and I suggest you comply.”

It was at this point that Neville noticed the four grim (and well armed) musketeers standing behind Reginald. He excused himself to pack his things, then joined the men on the way out of town.

Sergeant Cologne rode up alongside Reginald as they left the city. “Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but why didn’t we just stay the night in the barracks at London?”

“We can make Nottingham before it’s too late, and if we depart at first light in the morning, we can be back in Markopolis by tomorrow evening.”

“You think that’s wise with the civilian in tow?”

“If it were the old man, I’d take it slow; but our Mr. Chamberlain is young enough to endure a hard day’s ride. He’ll be a little saddle-sore by this time tomorrow, but none the worse for wear. Defense Minister Churchill was quite emphatic about the urgency of this mission.”