Blood and Iron [IC/ALT-HISTORY/OPEN]

by **Nuxipal** » Fri Oct 21, 2016 7:40 pm

Celestial Empire of Tianxia
15 February, 1891
Year of the Metal Rabbit

Southern Province Crossing

A rider crosses the river separating the two Empires. To his north and east, China, to his south and west, Thai-Viet. Traditional friends of the Imperial Court in Beijing since before the two Empires formed. He bore a message, dispatched by the Emperor's own hand for the Emperor of Thai-Viet. It was formally an invitation to the Imperial Palace in Beijing. It was also a marriage proposal. The Emperor in Beijing had several sisters, many of whom would need to be married off soon. The Emperor himself also only had an Empress and one future concubine, thus there was space for him to marry several other noble ladies to create alliances that would be cemented with little princes and princesses.

by **Republic Of Varra** » Fri Oct 21, 2016 8:31 pm

The V O I D wrote:
(Image)
January 30^th, 1891
The Chancellery Palace - Stockholm of Sweden
The Scandinavian Federation

Chancellor Valentin Hall had all the preparations made; the Chancellery Palace's Meeting Hall was prepared with a small meal, as well as for the meeting that was about to take place. The Germans were coming, soon, after all. Chancellor Hall was sitting in his chair, waiting for the news of their arrival. Suddenly, a Royal Guard from the Swedish Guard came into the room, walking over to the Chancellor; he saluted dutifully, and then, when Valentin nodded, rested. The Guard then spoke to the Chancellor with great importance.

"Your Excellency, the German Delegation has arrived. Shall I send for them?", the guard stated. Chancellor Hall nodded immediately; and with that, the guard left. Chancellor Hall began preparing his diplomatic speech and voice; trying to prepare himself for the diplomacy about to take place. Once they had drawn up a treaty or some such document, they could each return to their respective governments and send notice of approval and ratification of the treaty. Chancellor Hall smiled slightly, happy that it was time to meet with the Germans. He also thought of the Byzantines, whom he had sent a message to earlier.

To: The Byzantine Government
From: Chancellor Valentin Hall's Office, The Scandinavian Federation

To the Emperor of the Byzantines, and Others Whom It May Concern of the Byzantine Government

I would happily arrange for a meeting at some point between our two nations. Perhaps, we can arrange for one in February? I would love to discuss a trade or military alliance with your government.

Until then, I wish you well.

Regards,
Chancellor Valentin Hall
(Image)

(Image)
January 30^th, 1891
Stockholm, Sweden
The Scandinavian Federation

The German Delegation, and its escorts, had traveled through the Scandinavian Federation; first through Greater Denmark, and its capital in Copenhagen - a quick passing by of the Parliamentary Building - and then towards Sweden. It had been a few days of travel, but now, the German delegation was here. As their carriage arrived, a Swedish Royal Guard opened the door to the carriage; another one waiting outside of the cart for them. The Guard bowed his head respectfully, before speaking in a warm tone.

"On behalf of His Excellency, Chancellor Valentin Hall, I welcome you to Stockholm. I shall be taking you to the Chancellery Palace, and to the Meeting Hall within it.", the guard said simply. The German Delegation was being prepared for escort into the Chancellery Palace and the Meeting Hall. The meeting about to take place was of extreme importance.

The carriage ride was rather long and cold. The chancellor frequently checked his watch, a gift given to him by his aunt, to see how much time had gone by.

My goodness... He thought. Even the Swiss Winters aren't this freezing...

The carriage stopped. The German delegation sat there. Waiting... and waiting... one of the representatives finally could not stand it anymore and poked his head out of the carriage. He saw a box in the road blocking the carriage and the driver grumbling to himself. There was also one other person on the ground walking close to the carriage.

"Excuse me driver? When are we-"

Gunshot

In the blink of an eye one of the representatives was shot dead and fell into the snow. The shooter then took several shots into the carriage before being apprehended by a Swedish guard.

The chancellor was shot in the leg, and held his leg to himself. The other representatives tended to him, as they were not injured in the shootings.

As the person was carried away, they heard the assassin yell, "Glory to Socialism! Death to Germania!"

by **Holoska** » Fri Oct 21, 2016 10:08 pm

by **Esselman** » Sat Oct 22, 2016 12:39 pm

February 7^th, 1891
Train to Tsarskoe Selo/Alexander Palace , Tsar Nicholas II & Stavka

On board the train as the whistle blew to signify the beginning of their journey, the Tsar and the Stavka, or military staff, were seated in a train car to discuss recent events. They were to be meeting Vladmir Lenin and other minor Bolshevik representatives who by now were the majority of the Imperial Duma and had been focused on anti war policy and workers conditions.

"Have you heard news from Germany?" asked Grand Duke Nicholas Nikolaevich, commander Russian Fleet

The Tsar nodded as he began to speak, "Yes the Chancellor I believe,"

Duke Nikolaevich nodded back as if to agree, "But our business with the Byzantines is why you have summoned us Emperor?"

"Yes, we have begun our trade operations through Crimea, a valuable port for us to have. We have a strong presence as far as protection in the region but I am concerned more for our growing number of allies. Lenin would like to increase the number to avoid war as we industrialize but I am not sure of the same sentiment," said the Tsar as he leaned forward in his seat.

"Well there are constantly shifting tides in our world Emperor. My brother Konstantine is still ill as you know but years ago spoke fondly of Greece where his daughter resides, but look to the place now you understand?" said the Grand Duke, his goldfish like eyes unable to draw a direct focus on the Tsar from plain view.

To the left of the Tsar sat his only son, Prince Alexei Nikolaevich as the family who held immensely powerful positions in the government talked of their power, the diminishing crown and the future of Russia. they continued to talk for miles laughing, drinking, and often letting moments of silence fill the air as the chugging of the train sounded beyond the frames that held them.

"When will we return to Poland?" the Prince asked his father, who merely shook his head as he patted away imaginary dirt on the Prince's uniform and continued speaking to the other members present.

Upon arrival Tsarskoe Selo the Imperial guard led the family and important dignitaries from the train to Vladmir Lenin, who along with another Bolshevik member of the Duma greeted them.

"Welcome to Detskoye Selo your highness" Lenin said, his voice holding tremors of disdain

"Tsarskoe. Lenin, I'm afraid you have mispoke," Corrected the Tsar as the group began to walk.

"No no, the Bolshevik have already crafted and passed the legislation necessary to reestablish the namesake of the town. it is part of the reason we chose here for our meeting," answered back Lenin as they entered a nearby building for a moment.

Alexander Palace was the same as it had been and would need renovations in the coming years but the Imperial family was all gathered here for a rousing message that Lenin himself thought it important to be there for, as well as other representatives who agreed to join them but met at the palace grounds.

"As you are aware we have worked closely with your ailing relative Konstatine to craft a constitution for Russia which he has always backed, but for now have created provisional rules which we are enabled to under the power you have given the Imperial Duma. We report that agricultural production is slightly down once more but the trade deals we have solidified more than make up for this. Enlistment in the Imperial Army is up, only slightly but it is due to a new set of programs that work with the working class that can be outlined fully later," said Lenin, reading off of a hand penned letter he wrote.

"Further, the imperial family should remain here, at Alexander Palace. The Winter Palace is to become a monument of the reforms of our government thanks to the Tsar which people will soon again have a vested trust within. Winter Palace shall not be renamed, but the Imperial Duma will transform certain parts of it for legislative meetings and events," he continued.

As Lenin continued listing the success of the Imperial Duma, the Tsar grew a silent anger, only now realizing how much power he had given away to these Bolsheviks and the Soviets over the working class. Though this was necessary to appease the majority of the Russian populace, the imperial throne which had stood since 1721 was all but being diminished to that of a puppet for public appearances. The Tsar was powerless and thoughts of retiring his power to Alexander Palace seemed nice as he looked over to his young prince near his side, though his image only reminded him of who the future Tsar could be. Lenin finished his scripted adress to the royal family and was allowed to leave with his aides and colleagues as they were to soon return to nearby Saint Petersburg for a legislative meeting at Tauride Palace for the Duma. Russia was advancing, too rapidly for the Tsar's family, but perfect for the average man of Great Russia.

by **Kerbodine** » Sat Oct 22, 2016 1:33 pm

TORONTO ACCORDS, ENGLISH VERSION, February 25th, 1891
The Commonwealth of Great Britain and the Lowlands, and The Independent Union of the Northern Midwestern States of the Americas, shall hereby comply with and follow through with the following treaty.
CLAUSE THE FIRST: The Commonwealth of Great Britain and the Lowlands (hereby 'The Commonwealth') and The Independent Union of Northern Midwestern States (hereby 'The Union') shall co-fund and work on the following project: The Commonwealth and The Union shall Expand the canal systems allowing Shipping to freely pass through the Great Lakes to the Atlantic Ocean and Vice-Versa, as detailed in Diagram 1a.
The blue is what is being referred to in the Accords
CLAUSE THE SECOND: The expansions to this Canal System will allow hypothetical ships with a Length of up to one Thousand Feet, a Beam of up to Two Hundred Feet, and a Draft of up to Fifty Feet to comfortably traverse to and from the Great Lakes.
CLAUSE THE THIRD: The Union of Superior shall be the primary beneficiary of the Project, being responsible for the direct Construction Thereof and Payment Thereof, with joint oversight from The Commonwealth Government.
CLAUSE THE FOURTH: The Canals in the Canadian Territories of The Commonwealth will be jointly owned by The Union of Superior and The Commonwealth, with maintenance of the Infrastructure being paid for by a low neutral toll to be applied to any non-Union or Commonwealth government shipping passing through the System. The area that will be jointly owned includes a Two Hundred Foot buffer zone on either side of the System.
CLAUSE THE FIFTH: Any remaining infrastructure from construction, id est railroads or roadways, shall be after construction be given freely to the Government of The Commonwealth.
THE PROJECT is expected to begin this March, 1891, with Surveyors and Contractors under The Union of Superior's employ beginning preliminary work for the System. Construction is expected to take anywhere between Three to Six years and cost below $100,000,000 (from the Government of the Union of Superior).
SIGNATORIES of the ACCORDS

by **Holoska** » Sat Oct 22, 2016 2:34 pm

by **Newne Carriebean7** » Sat Oct 22, 2016 10:25 pm

on the edge of Lake Pontchartrain
Army of the Mississippi
January 24th,1891

General Walter Payne Lane stared at his map in the dark night of the bayou swamps of Louisianan, the mosquitoes enjoying the men's blood, much to their annoyance. lighting a candle, he put it on the side of his desk as he stared at his plans. with him was 10,000 total soldiers and a small marine force of 400, he would send half of the army around the far right of the lake to hit the Georgians around the flank in a long pincer maneuver, by that time,a second attack on the enemy's other line should commence and make contact with them. he had several concerns about this plan, one, is that if either attack is too slow, the enemy might envelop the separate army that is attacking one of the two locations across the lake. another concern is if the attacks are too slow, the enemy might pull back units that one attack could have prevented from attacking the other Texan assault force. either way, it was the best plan he could think of this late in the day. as he was staring at the maps, an officer on horseback entered the tent.
"what is it?"
"sorry to bother you sir, but a letter from the other Texan flank commander."
picking up the letter, he read through it's contents.
"shit. Flank General Thomson's dead from a mosquito bite was it?"
the aide nodded.
"give me his replacement first thing tomorrow,we'll go over the strategy in the morning with the new bastard. dismissed."
"Yes sir."
so, getting up from his table, he turned out the light and climbed into bed.

Austin,Texas
President Gary Raleigh Hanson was sitting at his desk nosing over the various reports from the different fronts that had been riled up. most worryingly of them all was the fact that a train full of Texan men had met their end when it plummeted down the gorge. over a six hundred men had been killed when the locomotive went off the rail and into the canyon. the Californians had even blown up the railway too, it appeared that the small rumors that had been floating around the boarder towns and managed to make their way to the capital were true, which was a shame,yet a predicted outcome for only a handful of people. including the president. if you had just seen some ambassadors act weird,with a nut-job aide that now shoots the president of Texas, you'd prepare explosives for in case they decided to march over the boarder as well. looking at more papers,it was discovered that the people that had shot some of the Texan congressmen were apparently part of a group called the Farmers of the Revolution, an underground anarchist group bent on achieving environmental socialism in the nation, whatever that was. the groups actions recently had frightened a lot of people,specifically more money filled congressmen who demanded pay raises to accompany their security staff's increased number and with that wages. if it was a bullshit excuse for them to acquire and embezzle more state funds into their own pockets, he didn't give a damn, he needed their votes for re-election.
"hm, this is all good and dandy, but,what news from Louisiana?"
"they need more supplies again?"
"didn't the old president give them shit?"
"yes,but not nearly enough."
"fine, send them double, no-triple the amount frost said he would deliver,we shall live!"
"yes sir."
with that, the aide walked off, but not before remembering something and bothering the short patienced man once again.
"sorry again sir, but what are we to do about California?"
"deploy five hundred militamen along the boarder,or,along that dammed destroyed river, increase the patrols,but don't fucking invade them again, I want that front to remain quiet while we deal with the other ones."
"are you sure sir, five hundred men is a lo-"
"do I need to repeat myself, Fill out my fucking orders, or I'll skin you to a tree, barbecue you over an open spit and shit in your face, do you want that?!"
the aide began to quiver and collapse on the ground.
"shit, fucking fantastic."
seeing someone walk past the presidential office, he leapt from his chair and pointed at the old lady.
"you,you you! get me another aide and tell him to send half a thousand men roughly to the californian-texan boarder,they are to guard it, go grandma go!"
the old woman,startled, nodded before leaving Hanson to clean up the shit mess that Frost had left him.

at the Missouri-Oklahoman boarder
ex texan militiaman Gary Hoffstader felt sore as the grey horse neighed in exhaustion, they had ridden for a good three to four miles, then the forward unit shouted the wonderful news.
"injut slaves ahead, twenty nine of em at least, forwards!"
"I'll be dammned, those damned injut slaves are trying to cross the bridge, looks like thems outpost on the otherside'll give em shelter, try to get em to stap at all costs!"
the men cheered in aprroval as they kicked the steeds into high gear,making it to the crossing where the slaves had taken a short breather, then realized their stupidity,as they kept running a shot rang out. Hoffstader, felt annoyed at the man, and almost infuriated. barking out in all his fury
"You stupid ass yankee scum, don't shoot the injuts,they're worth more alive than dead, and killin them won't solve shit!"
"but pa, we wusn't the ones that shots ems..."
"sun of a bitch,damn superiorites, all men form up around me, we'll break through, carbines in the rear, pistols in the front, cut those superiorites down like god intended, that'll show them whose wes is messing with!"
the men cheered like crazy men as the formation was hastily made and plans were being calucated in their heads, at the sound of a church bell on the other side, Gary bellowed out with his fellow Texans.
"Forwards, capture the slaves and cut down anyone in the way, we're starting another war whether you signed up for this or not, yee haw!"

Near Atoka Lake, Oklahoman Territory
January 24th,1891
Chospake Tsaladihi had been riding in the wagon all night long, he had forsaken his old horse a long time ago for the oxen driven device, it felt slightly cooler in there than anywhere else, he managed to see an old lady in there with him.
"so,uh,what's your story young Indian?"
"I'm a Cherokee that was drafted into the army."
another older looking man that sat next to him woke up from his nap, the snoring from the old geezer had driven everyone nuts, and so relived ears greeted the old man when he woke up.
"chreokee? drafted?"
the old man burst into laughter, much to everyone's confusion, the old lady chuckled slightly with him, drawing a disapproving look from Tsaladihi.
"I arrived at Fort Belknap a few days ago and are now heading back north."
"you know why we're heading north son?"
Tsaladihi shook his head at the old man's question.
"we're going to war against the nation of Superior,those warhawks in the gubment think war's good fer business, but here's my half dollar on the issue, it's a conspiracy, the rich men stay in power and the arms dealers keep makin money, seems logical to me."
as Tsaladihi felt confused at the old man's question, his stomach growled. the old man noticed this and poked him.
"Haven't eaten yet boy? not surprised, you'st not used to the texan cuisine."
the old man grabbed a tin can and cut it open, digging out a spoon and plopping it into the protein like inhabitants of the can.
"here, put this in your mouth."
Tsaladihi grabbed the can and lifted up the spoon before enjoying the food.
"it's different,what is this?"
"army beans, makes ya toot up a storm,that's for sure, hey, mary, ya want some?"
the old lady nodded as she was handed a can.
the wagon went over a bump, spilling the beans over everyone in the wagon, who laughed at the event, especially the old man. Tsaladihi felt comforted by the man, and extended out his hand.
"what's your name?"
"Sam Gardner. yours?"
"Tsaladihi."
"that's one helluva name, saw a dill he."

by **Kerbodine** » Sat Oct 22, 2016 11:35 pm

January 24th, Fort Grant, Seneca, Missouri State, Superior, Border with Oklahoma (part of Texas)

General Thomas Bennett Barret Whitter-Holmes Schwartz was taking his daily afternoon half-hour break, 1500 sharp to 1530, when a frantic knocking began back at his study door. Crisply setting down his journal on modern agricultural machinery, Gen. Swartz snapped up and marched from his balcony back to his office door. He welcomed in Major Bradley, his head of intelligence, carrying a thin sheaf of paper and clearly out of breath, though he was usually good at hiding it.
"Sir," gulped Maj. Bradley, "There's been a bit of an incident on the border, down near the Elk River Outpost." Composed as always, Gen. Schwartz asked for details. "Some sort of slave-hunting militia. The slaves had crossed into our territory and were trying to cross a bridge in our region- the border there isn't a river, but they probably knew the slave hunters would follow them and it was the only bridge for miles-, anyway, they were possibly attempting to get to the outpost when purportedly there was a shot. None of our men claim to have fired, but regardless, the Texan slavers, there were about a dozen of them, galloped and attacked the outpost. The men rang the outpost alarm as soon as they had seen the incoming groups, so they were ready, and shot down a few of the Texans; we took no casualties, though the commander of the outpost, a Lieutenant Clinton, was mildly injured by shrapnel from a shot. Regardless, it sounds like a few of the slaves were hit by one side our another- once again, our men claim innocence and we have no reason to doubt them- and half the Texans were killed or wounded, mostly wounded, during their attack."
Schwartz interjected; "What was the final outcome?" "Well, sir," Maj. Bradley replied, finally catching his breath and calming down, "The report from the outpost suggests that the Texans didn't exactly retreat, but decided taking back the slaves was of higher value than a pointless attack on a defended outpost." "So all the Texans and slaves went back to their side of the border?" "Well," replied Bradley, "All but a Texan and a couple of Indian slaves. They were dead on or near the bridge. Here's a diagram of the event:"

"Well, damn," swore Gen. Schwartz under his breath, just quietly enough so that his subordinate couldn't hear him. In his usual powerful voice now, he continued: "I think this warrants a message to an authority higher than myself. Thank you Bradley, let me know if anything else arises. Oh, also, send an additional platoon to the outpost and relieve the current men there." "Yessir, thank you sir." Major Bradley snapped his heels together, shot off a salute, spun on his heel, and closed the door behind him. General Schwartz, in the meantime, sighed, slumped down into his desk chair, and began to write what he'd have sent by telegraph to his superiors in Illinois' Fort Malcolm. The final telegraph was as follows:

FROM GENERAL SCHWARTZ OF OK MO BORDER FIRST CORPS (stop) GREETINGS TO GENERALS VON KELLER HARRISON PETICOLAS AND VON SCHLIEFFEN (stop) MINOR BORDER INCIDENT ALONG OK MO BORDER (stop) SEVERAL SLAVES AND TEXAN SLAVER MILITA INJURED OR KILLED (stop) NO SUPERIOR CASUALTIES (stop) TEXAN ARMED MILITIAS WILLING TO INTRUDE ALONG OUR BORDER AND ATTACK OUR OUTPOSTS (stop) REQUEST PERMISSION TO DOUBLE OUTPOST GARRISONS (stop) REQUEST FOR DIPLOMATIC INTERACTION WITH TEXAS OVER INCIDENT (stop) TENSIONS MAY CONTINUE TO RISE (stop) SUUM CUIQUE

by **Holoska** » Sun Oct 23, 2016 12:46 am

by **The V O I D** » Sun Oct 23, 2016 2:42 pm

- Scandinavia messages countries that messaged it, informing them it would love to perform diplomacy and would like to know the availability of foreign ambassadors.
- The German Chancellor, after he's injured, is escorted to a hospital to treat the wounds before being brought a few days later to the Chancellery Palace to continue with the meeting, so he doesn't have to come back for a second trip.
- Scandinavia's Parliament is about to undergo elections that may change their party makeup.

by **The Vekta-Helghast Empire** » Sun Oct 23, 2016 4:37 pm

Kaisertum Österreich

Vienna, March 4th, 1891.

The day had started relatively normal for the people of Vienna, the streets were alive with the sound of industrialization and the daily traders attempting to shift their wares in one of the cultural gems of the Republic. To the untrained eye and those unaware of Vienna's customs, it would seem as if all was well. But to the natives, something was very obviously off. The flow of traffic was a lot slower than usual, groups began to form on the edges of the main square, a certain tension lurked with intent. Then, as the bell rang out on the twelfth hour, it happened - the groups converged on the center, traffic all but halted and a single word drowned out all other sounds as the people cried out - "Österreich! Österreich! Österreich! Signs were erected from beneath market stalls, Austrian flags flew proudly above the mob as they gathered outside the manor of the Mayor. The garrison of the manor taken aback immediately shut the gates - taking up position behind them, nothing but thick wooden clubs to keep them safe should the protesters attempt to breach the compound. But no such attempt was made, they kept their position outwith the gates, chanting, cheering, some even giving speeches, preaching of a free and Catholic Austria, with it's own government and sovereign, preaching of the glory days under the Habsburg dynasty and of their glorious Empire.

It wouldn't be long before a relief effort from the police-force arrived. A contingent of several hundred men who at first tried to make their way through the crowd towards the manor - though the sheer numbers of the protesters and their rather aggressive response to the police's efforts seemed to make the situation worse and the police decided to hold back and merely observe for the time being, as not to provoke a riot. Within but a few hours, there must've been around seven-thousand people and growing in the mob and a telegram had already been produced and was on it's way to Berlin, as to inform the central government of the developing situation.

But not all was well in Vienna - elsewhere, at a textile factory a few blocks from the square, at about 1PM, a band of workers had refused to continue production upon hearing of the rally and had hoped to join in the processions - their boss, however, a Northern Protestant had refused their request to depart and a brawl broke out - when a police unit was finally dispatched to try and break it up, they too found themselves involved and the brawl risked spreading into an out-right riot as another factory's workers joined in on the engagement, forcing the police to withdraw and take up a more defensive posture as they awaited reinforcements and orders from higher up. The workers seem to have banded together and barricaded one of the factories - some emerging occasionally from the windows to yell abuse to the police detachment outside, something along the lines of them being northern boot-lickers and traitors. The workers numbered only about a hundred strong, but were armed with bits of metal and broken glass. Fortunately for the police - word of the riot hadn't spread to the main square and as such, peace was upheld elsewhere in the city and the main protest continued peacefully..

by **Quindonesia** » Sun Oct 23, 2016 5:35 pm

The United Peoples of Songhai
February 17th, 1891
Unification Day
Gao

The atmosphere in the grand meeting hall was tense, all eyes stared eagerly at the Guinea man as he counted the stones in each pot after the voting had ceased. Each chief and king left in the remainder of Africa had joined in this room on this great day to form a new nation, the proud nation of New Songhai. The results determined by the Guinea man would affect all of them for decades to come, for this was where the king of their proud new nation would be determined. Every single one of them was anxious waiting for the results of the count. Chief Adebowale, however, knew exactly how the results would turn out.

Over the course of the past ten months as word of the Gao Conference was spread to each individual chief and king and as it was argued over such a simple thing as to which language should be used during the conference, Adebowale was drawing support. Adebowale had one by one reached out to as many kings and chiefs as he could, doing them a small favor, hunting with them, doing whatever he could to get on good terms with them. Securing their vote, along with help from the Germans.

After the reunification of Germany only a month and a half ago, the ruler of Germany, Chancellor Shulza, had hardly any trouble keeping the nation united. Adebowale was very opposed to imperialism, in fact, it was the entire reason these leaders had decided to meet in Gao and unite together in the first place. Even so, Adebowale had to admire the skills of the German chancellor in keeping his nation united, and he was going to need skills like this.

Adebowale had reached out to the Germans a few weeks prior to the conference to ask for help in securing the election, for only Adebowale knew what was right for his people and he knew an ally in Africa could be quite useful for the Germans. Sure enough, the Germans started sending out small gifts to certain tribes in exchange for a vote. A German advisor Hermann Faust had come down to inform Adebowale of the current political climate not just in Africa, but around the world so that he wouldn’t be unprepared when he was elected as the king.

The vote, however, had been closer than Adebowale had anticipated. Adebowale still clearly won by a fairly large majority, but the Guinea king had acquired more votes than Adebowale would’ve liked.

The Guinea man had finished his count, and the crowd hushed. In English, the Guinea man yelled out “The new king of our proud nation of New Songhai shall be…” he paused for unnecessary and unwanted dramatic effect “Chief Adebowale!”

The crowd cheered as Adebowale walked up to the improvised stage. Adebowale stood there as the Guinea man placed the beautifully carved ivory crown upon his head. Adebowale cleared his throat as he prepared to address his people as king for the first time. In near fluent English, King Adebowale Gave his speech. “Greetings, proud chiefs and kings of New Songhai! I stand here before you today not as your king, but as a brother. In these trying times, as the white men kill and enslave our people, as they take our land and uproot the Earth for shiny stones, we must come together and realize that we are all brothers and sisters. All Africans are brothers and sisters! From this day forth I make it my lifelong goal to liberate all of our brothers and sisters from the clutch of European tyranny!” The crowd roared.

“I will liberate all of our brothers and sisters, but not through war” the crowd silenced. “I will not liberate our brothers and sisters through war, for what would it accomplish? In our current state, we wouldn’t stand any chance against these powerful white nations. The only thing we would accomplish is bringing more suffering to our brothers and sisters. The best way to liberate our kin under European control is through peace. Make them see the wrong of their ways, trade for them if necessary. One way or another, though, we will liberate every last one of our brothers and sisters!” Once again, the crowd cheered. As Chief Adebowale walked off the stage, he observed the unsatisfied Guinea king in the back walk out with many of his supporters from the north and the western coast. Adebowale could tell that he would have trouble with them in the very near future.

by **Newne Carriebean7** » Sun Oct 23, 2016 9:36 pm

on the edge of Lake Pontchartrain
Army of the Mississippi
January 25th,1891

General Walter Payne Lane watched with most everyone as the carriage enter into camp, with a fat man wearing a top hat exiting. grimacing at the smell from the man's breath, he put on a fake smile and extended his hand out.
"Ah,general Thomson's replacement,I presume, general-"
"Daniel Morsby,former Georgian."
"so you must know about our enemies then?"
"no, not really,I was only in Georgia for a couple years,and I ran away for money fraud, I'm sure you Texans don't give a damn about that,especially when you have a battle plan that you said you needed someone to execute it."
"yes, that's true,please come inside if you may,we can go over the plan."
as the two men entered the tent, general Lane explained the plan to the new flank commander, who nodded every little while and asked some questions, feeling satisfied with the answers, he left the tent and turned to the man.
"the plan seems good so far, I shall prepare the flanking force to march around the river, when are we launching the attack?"
"tomorrow at high noon!"
"i see, thank you for your hospitality, and lunch was a nice touch too."
with a wave, General Morsby left in the carriage to the other forces location.

Austin,Texas
President Gary Raleigh Hanson looked at the papers from his former presidential predecessor, and discovered that, along with invading California and Arkansas, he had even begun to move troops for an invasion like preperational period near the Missourian-Oklahoman boarder. Hanson was convinced the former president was a war monger,mad man and a secret woman all rolled into one there and then, but, he needed to do something about this... scratching his head, he decided to try diplomacy first. going to his cabinet, he grabbed a piece of paper and began to craft a letter to the Superiorites.

To:John Coit Spooner
From: President Gary Raleigh Hanson
My sincere greetings in dealing with you, I would first like to apologize for my government's rash slave incident on your boarder, and, weather or you permitting, would be honored to send some diplomatic representatives, such as James Faust and Hinkley Carlentspruger. they shall leave tonight and arrive within five days by rail transport,please be prepared to receive them at your earliest convenience when they appear.

May you be in good health,

once that was sent ,he got a messenger.
"I want you to deliver this message to the Superior states government, be fast and be on a horse."
"got it."
snatching the complete letter from the president's hands, the aide disappeared and handed the letter to another messenger, who took it and rode off on a horse north to superior.

Missouri-Oklahoman boarder town of Chardente
the fatlady's of arabia saloon
ex Texan militiaman Gary Hoffstader slugged off of his horse and entered the tavern triumphantly,where the other militia members of the posse were waiting,along with various drunks that had wandered into the bar.
"My good Texan men,I have grand news, we've rounded up twenty nine of the thirty three slaves that had escaped, a couple of em died, I'm sure the mayor of the town'll cover your losses, he did organize the raid.."
"bullshit, we all know it was you!"
"oh,really now? what's your proof?"
"because you rallied us to you, have you considered being a general?"
Hoffstader blushed.
"I'm of the jewish faith, I was an immigrant from the byzantine empire in 1885,now I'm forging a new life in this nation, a new life of wealth,power and money!"
the men solemly turned back to their drinks as Hoffstader grabbed a cup, taking a sip, he sighed. it had been one helluva day so far. the doors opened to the saloon and everyone turned around to see the mayor, brandishing a cigar and having his finger on the six shooter he carried.
"which one of you sunsua bitches organized this here raid?"
"I dids sirs."
"you did good boy, consider this a recommendation for sherrif of slavery roundup!"
"thata position?"
"yes, well, now it is. welcome to the texan rangers boy!"
the men cheered when they heard the news. Hoffstader stood up on the table, kicking down a slobbering drunk that made the bar his home.
"Free round of drinks on me, Long Live Texas! Long Live Slavery!"

Oklahoman-Missourian fort of Grand River
January 26th,1891
Chospake Tsaladihi left the covered wagon as the convoy came to a halt. after several agonizing days in a covered wagon, they had finally arrived. the fort was in slightly better shape than the other fort,that it had been made later than the other fort,and had more people to take care of it. it certainly looked bigger than the other one. the evil spirited voice of a man brought the talking and gossiping, Indians and whites to attention.
"Company, form up! I am Colonel White,I'm here to plan an assault across the river against the superiorites, with the authority of the high command, now then, we are to train in gunnery exercises,running exercises, marching drills and trotting drills, and some general maintenance of the fort, we do, of course, stare out at the Superiorites with their stupid noses and bad taste in cuisine,who eats fish ya shit stains?!"
after chewing out the superiorites for a full minute, he grabbed a cigar and chugged down a gallon of whiskey.
"dismissed, let me go kiss those rocks over there!"
colonel white then collapsed on the ground as the men unpacked their things.

by **Kazarogkai** » Sun Oct 23, 2016 11:03 pm

February 1891
The Latin Commonwealth of Georgia

Mobile, West Georgia
Sasa Rogui

Sasa a boy of only 8 years of age after a rather long day was walking his way home from school. It was the beginning of his first year of Comprehensive School(Ages 8-16) and he was already starting to feel it. The days were long and things were just so unfamiliar to what he was used too, he just wanted to go home. By the time Sasa had finished up with his after school electives, music practice in his case, it was starting to get a little dark. Being that his family's home was on the outskirts of town this didn't help matters. Winter was lurking around these parts and though yes it was comparatively mild by most standards it was still kinda chilly to Sasa in his simple attire of brown trousers, sandals, and wool cloak with a hood.

It was hankering to be a lonely walk back to home though his town of Mobile, that is until a little friend came around. Her name was Laze. She was a friend of his who didn't live to far from his home and was here to walk along with him back home. She was a brunette violet eyed blubber mouthed girl of fair complexion with a rather strange feature of large pointed ears which for the love of her could not be covered up with her hair and had earned her the nickname "elf" almost the moment she stepped foot in class. They shared both their second(Humanities) and third classes(Sciences) together and as such it was natural that they would hit it off. Despite Laze's strangeness she was actually a rather pretty girl though obviously Sasa would not know that.

When they spoke they talked in their native tongue of french. Though yes New Latin as it was known as was the official language of Georgia no one truly learned it as a first language instead learning it later on as a secondary language during school where it functioned as the principal medium of communication/learning. It was a useful thing in it's 0wn right allowing a person from one side of the nation to speak to another, say a seminole indian from central florida to a african from the maroon garrison. Nevertheless even the highest politician who though he spoke New Latin in public settings still when he arrived home spoke in his native tongue whether that be english, some creole, or in this case french.

They spoke of simple things. Childish things for they were still young and they did not have to have the world on their shoulders just yet. Hopes and dreams were the topic of the day. Laze revealed her aspirations to one day be a doctor maye helping the sick and helpless get better and all that. An admirable goal indeed. Sasa when queried on his own ambitions had to give a bit of thought to it. Honestly he hadn't figured out what he truly wanted to be now that he thought about it. That's ok though he was still young and would have plenty of time to think about it later on. The pair went on to other subjects but something strange happened during these triads. Sasa found that he couldn't get his mind off a particular thing and Laze soon noticed his distraction. When asked about what was wrong Sasa confided in his young friend of the events that had occurred in his household as of late. His father had recently received an offical letter notifying him that he was to report to the town barracks for a physical. He was told by his dear mom that this ment would be having to leave soon for his national duty. He had been officially called up for service in his local regiment and would be deployed soon enough. Though he didn't understand fully he had heard from conversations among the adults of a possible war brewing in the west. He didn't know the exact details but he knew now that this meant his fafa had to go whether they liked it or not. And one must not be mistaken Sasa didn't like it at all.

Laze listened quietly to her friend Sasa's tale and when he was finished made sure to give him a nice hug. Her cousin had recently received the same news and she understood to a degree what he was going through and wanted him to know that she cared and that she was there.

A few miles outside Slidell, West Georgia
B Division(2), Ilos Corps(5)

From a small hill General Paetoria looked upon the city of orleans that was just across the river. It was a rather large placed once regarded as the crown jewel of the US of A back when it was still kicking around the block. Now it lied decrepit filled with slowly rotting structures, muddy roads, and constant street fights between the various factions who all claimed the stinking heap as their own. It had in the time since the "Wars of Dissolution" become more or less a modern gomorrah of sorts a wretched hive of grand proportions where sin ran rampant and gunshots were as constant as the rain.

In the last half decade or so from what intelligence the Georgians gathered a local warlord had more or less come up on top and was able to deal with much of the previously unabated conflict and get a handle on the situation. The fat bastards army was mostly comprised of old militias of other once independent warlords who he was able to bring under his fold through coercion and persuasion. They called themselves an army but from what he could see they barely more than thugs masquerading as such. Their poor discipline was quickly shown about a day ago when a few inebriated members decided on the great plan of taking a few potshots at his forces who were arriving and setting up in the area. They quickly learned what real soldiers were like when a few good rifle volleys and even a gatling gun sounded off in their direction. When all was said and done they ran screaming home with their tails between their legs. no more major incidents had as of yet occurred recently since then.

The days as of now had gone on quickly and had mostly been set up fortifying the position to a degree. They had not yet built up anything substantial, mostly just a camp and a few fortifications. Owing to the low amount of good quality trees they had to make due with mostly earthen fortifications consisting of sun dried mud bricks mixed with vines and grasses for reinforcement. Atop this very hill General Paetoria stood upon was what was to be his Grand artillery battery, a typical tactic used by Georgian forces as a way of concentrating and better coordinating their fire.

It was all a waiting game from this point onward. The Texans were moving fast and making their way over. Eventually the would soon be upon the city of New Orleans and quite General Paetoria was sure they would take it with littler issue. When they finally had the city in their grasp Paetoria didn't know exactly what they were planning on doing but he hoped that was all that they desired. tough a proud general of georgia willing to do what was necessary to protect his nation deep down inside Paetoria wanted to go home. He suspected the feeling was mutual among most of his troops many of which found themselves far away from hearth and family. The majority of his troops were rather young, averaging in their late teens, finding themselves on their first few years of their national service. A good portion were green but the majority had atleast seen some action. Though fighting occasional border clashes and the occasional native rebel wasn't exactly a perfect primer for what was to come they understood the gist of what they were to do more or less.

The Georgian fighting man was a bit difference from most in the world of today. Mass literacy was due to a rather well funded and heavily emphasized public education the norm in these lands. For the past few decades the average Literacy rate average in these lands at about 80-90% give or take. Though the majority of the population was rural urbanity was catching up in recent times reaching an all time high of 25%. Not much compared to say some of those european countries but still it was something. If one were to compare a Georgian Soldier to others one would notice rather quickly his discipline was quite honestly top notch. This in part derived from the aforementioned public education system. During his schooling years a georgian youth was engaged in atleast 2 hours of physical education each and every school day. In the beginning this started off with simple sports and exercise but for the older boys they would soon be introduced to martial arts and drill. He would learn to fight with his hands but also how to handle a gun. For most students the first thing they could expect when they arrived at school was a march of between 30-60 minutes.By the time of his graduation a he would have gone through what was the equivalent of basic training in most other nations.

This came along with the "infamous" peonage system that pervaded in school and the political indoctrination meant to impress upon the youth the need for loyalty to the nation, submission to the state, and the infallibility of The Guardian and his word. All this served as excellent conditioning for crafting highly disciplined and decently well trained soldiers who though lacking in imagination had plenty of motivation. Though lacking in individual initiative Georgian soldiers worked well in a collective whole and responded well to good leadership.

Though fighting man wasn't bad at all the same could never be said of his equipment. While atop his hill General Paetoria looked on with a sigh at the aged old equipment of his armies. The principle field artillery at their disposal dated to the 1860s around the time of the war of dissolution. Though decently modern for the time period the principle georgian artillery which was in effect old Armstrong guns were dated. As for their mini gatling guns, those couldn't hold a feather to the new stuff on the block the europeans were using like maxim guns. Their small arms weren't much better being simply indigenously produced sharps rifles which compared to the stuff he had heard about overseas, namely repeaters with "smokeless" powder, they were outclassed in almost every way.

Not exactly things that inspired confidence in soldiers but still. It is what they had and what they must deal with as of now. General Paetoria didn't know exactly what the Texans had in store but he only hoped that whatever they had that his was enough to beat it.

by **Holoska** » Sun Oct 23, 2016 11:38 pm

by **Quindonesia** » Mon Oct 24, 2016 12:38 am

The United Peoples of Songhai
February 18th, 1891
Gao Palace

King Adebowale woke up in the morning, and at first he was utterly confused. His groggy half-awake mind hadn't quite remembered yet the events of the previous day. It took him a few moments to accustom himself to the fact that he was no longer in his little hut by the shore, or in the tent he had stayed in on the way to Gao. King Adebowale now lived in a great magnificent palace, overlooking his beautiful city.

As he stared amazingly through the window, he heard his wives Amina and Asantewa stir in the bed behind him. He walked back to the bed and kissed both of them on the foreheads. He put on his clothes and walked to the study, for it was a new day, and he had work to do.

On the way down to the study, he was stopped by his brother, Prince Adetosoye. "Brother, I have news." Adetosoye paused.

"Well get on with it, I don't have all day."

"We have just received word from Guinea. They do not want bad blood between our nations, but they have decided not to join New Songhai, along with many of the king's supporters on the coast by the Spanish colonies, down in the south by the Anglo-Dutch colonies, and many in the North by the Mediterranean aside from the ones bordering the Byzantines, who chose to stay out of fear."

"I haven't even been king for a full day and my nation is already falling apart. So be it, let them leave if they want to leave. I only want what is best for all Africans but if they choose not to join then I guess I don't have much say in the matter. Anyway, I have other pressing matters"

"Yes, of course" Adebowae continued walking down to his study. Once the king arrived, he sat down at his desk and began to write.

To: John Coit Spooner of Superior
From: King Adebowale of The United Peoples of Songhai

Greetings Mr. Spooner. My proud nation of New Songhai has just formed, and I wish to grow to the power of the terrible European nations to plague my continent. I believe the Germans will be helping my nation industrialize, I am still waiting for a response from Chancellor Shulza, but to do that I would need steel and a lot of it. From my advisor Hermann Faust, I am aware that you are the world's largest supplier of iron. Also according to Mr. Faust below my nation is a massive supply of something called oil, which he claims is a very very useful substance. New Songhai is currently working on building mines to access this precious resource. My main point is, New Songhai would like to make a trade. If you were to supply us with 1/3 of your iron output for the next five years, then we will provide you with 1/3 of our oil output for the same time period. Get back to me soon

Sincerely,
King Adebowale

To: Chancellor Shulza of Germania
From: King Adebowale of The United Peoples of Songhai

Greetings Chancellor, and first may I thank you for helping me gain the kingship over New Songhai, now you have allowed me to start working on doing what is right for my people, protecting them, freeing their brothers and sisters. Now that I am king, I have a nation to run. It is no secret that I want to be as powerful as you European nations so that I can have a chance of defending my people. To do this, I must industrialize like you Europeans have. I have already sent word to Superior asking for iron and I am waiting to respond. I now would like to make the request to you to help me industrialize. If you do help us, then in return I will give you 1/3 of my oil output all the way up until industrialization is complete. This oil would be obtained from mines that you would help us create. Please get back to me as soon as possible, for there are growing fears in the north of possible Byzantine aggression and I believe if you show your support for the people of New Songhai, then they might choose to back off.

Sincerely,
King Adebowale

To: Emperor Eumenes Bassad II of Maurania and Emperor Menelik II of Ethiopia
From: King Adebowale of The United Peoples of Songhai

Greetings emprerors. I assume you are aware of the massive nation that has formed right next to the two of you. I encourage you not to be alarmed, for I only wish for peace. All Africans are brothers and sisters, and I admire everything you both have done to establish yourselves as independent nations and to fight off European imperialism, and I wish to do the same. I am a strong believer in something my advisor says about three heads being stronger than one. I would like to propose a military alliance between the three of our nations, so that if any of us were to get attacked by those imperialistic bastards in Europe expecting an easy fight, they wouldn't know what hit them. We have to join together for the sake of our people.

Sincerely,
King Adebowale

Adebowale sat back in his chair. "Faust!" He yelled, and soon enough his German advisor came running.

"Yes sir?" he asked.

"Please send these letters to their respective recipients, and make a copy of the third one so that it can go to both emperors" said the king.

"Of course sir, right away" said Faust, leaving as quickly as he entered. Today was going to be the first full day of King Adebowale's reign, the first of many to come.

by **Kerbodine** » Mon Oct 24, 2016 10:46 am

Jan. 25th, 1891, Hansestadt, Superior

The Honorable Chancellor Spooner, flipping through the various documents he had to cover before the Government reconvened in a month, sighed; there was so much to do in the next month. Let's see, more stuff regarding Missouri's senate rights, something about the refugees fleeing from New England, a border skirmish with Texas slavers (again!? At least this time, Texas had sent an official note and was planning on negotiations), a statement about the railroads, and some information regarding the shipping lanes across Lake Superior. Lots to do and redistribute to his various ministers... He'd deal with Texas himself, however.

January 25th, 1891

FROM the desk of Superior's Chancellor, the Honorable John C. Spooner
TO Texan President, Mr. Gary Raleigh Hanson
Greetings sir,
I had heard of the incident on the Oklahoma/Missouri border, and our nation will be more than happy to work with yours to find a diplomatic solution. The Government will reconvene at about the same time your honorable ambassadors (Mr. James Faust and Mr. Hinkley Carlentspruger) arrive, and we will put our border at the top of our agenda; it has been the official policy of Superior's government to allow the fulfillment of your Fugitive Slave proclamations and laws to be left to the individual states of our Independent Union, but, as I'm sure you're aware, Missouri has not passed any official legislation regarding the manner, which has led to some awkward situations in the past
Once again, we will find a solution for this; we request that, in the meantime, border integrity is fulfilled and violent conflict is avoided at all cost.
Thank you for your note, we will be glad to speak with your ambassadors soon.
Sincerely,

February 25th 1891
Much like the month before, Chancellor Spooner was sorting through his papers; stuff from the military (that had been common recently), a copy of the final draft of the Toronto Accords, a summary of the capabilities of some of the new Lakes ships being constructed, and- what's this?- a mildly amusing message from some backwater African nation, asking for a third of Superior's iron production! HA! Like he had that power! He'd pass that on to his Minister of Economics, who ought to be back in a few days from Canada. Now, onto that information regarding the ships...

A few days later, the note to Songhai was sent by Trade Minister Hans Hollestat of Greater Superior.

February 28th 1891
TO THE Illustrious King Adebowale of the New United Peoples of Songhai
Greetings to His Majesty,
I, Trade Minister Hans Hollestat of Greater Superior, regret to inform you that the Government of Superior is not equipped to nor has the power to force our nation to export a third of our iron production to any particular location. We are also aware that a third of the oil, as extracted from the ground, from your region, is not at all an equivalent to the value of a third of our iron; indeed, your region's oil output is rather low, though we have data suggesting that its output could triple with some help.
Regardless, instead of contacting our government, we recommend contacting companies such as the following (see the attached files for a complete list of internationally-trading Superiorite companies):
Westinghouse Superior Corporation, 405 Westhalle Avenue, Hansestadt, Superior State, Superior
Krupp A.G., 6100 Peticolas Road, Chicago, Illinois State, Superior
Farley-Bauer A.G., 394 Milwaukee Lane, Milwaukee, Wisconsin State, Superior
Superior Steel, 7 Superior Steel Lane, Hansestadt, Superior State, Superior
Rothschild, von Braun, & Harrison, 394 Mulberry Street, Madison, Wisconsin State, Superior
A likely deal they would accept is that, in exchange for a reasonable amount of iron and steel, that they be allowed to send expeditions to your nation to build oil wells themselves. Other companies to contact may be railroad companies, as, if this does turn into a large-scale project as you seem to wish, our companies will require transportation. All of this will likely come at great cost, however, as such an expedition would be incredibly expensive.
We're sorry that the government cannot do as you wish.
Thank you for contacting us. Sincerely,

by **Nuxipal** » Mon Oct 24, 2016 2:13 pm

Celestial Empire of Tianxia
26 February, 1891
Year of the Metal Rabbit

Imperial Province of Manchuria, City of Haishenwei

The city was one of multiple ethnicity. A rarity in China that was only further complicated by its history. It was settled originally by various Korean and Chinese Emperors, most recently it was settled by the Manchu who tried to keep non-manchu from settling there. This ended poorly for them as the short-lived Qing dynasty fell to the Tianzi Dynasty. Now, the city boasted a population of nearly 50,000. Small in chinese sense, but large for the region. It also held one of the few ports which had easy access to Japan along with Telegraph lines to Beijing, Shanghai, and Nagasaki. Ethnically, there were Chinese, Manchu, Korean, Japanese, and Russians living in one city. Trade was strictly controlled in this city, as it was in other Chinese Ports. Trade with Japan and Russia were highest priority, but there was also a push to open a route to the Californian coastline and to several Islands across the South Pacific.

The Local ruler, a Self-Styled Warlord by the name of Sun Yat-sen. He had dreams of modernizing China and kept tabs on what the rest of the world was doing. From his own position as the Viceroy of Manchuria, he would need the permission of the Emperor to do anything official. However, if he simply did something, it would be on his own terms and without the aid of the Emperor, unless the Emperor deems it right for China.

Looking across his maps, he knew the Russians had seized the northern half of the Japanese Island of Sakhalin. Additionally, there were boundary stones left by the Ming Dynasty. He had already recieved the news that the Ming descendants were being incorporated into the current Dynasty. He hoped he could use that as leverage to expand his own province at the expense of the Russians, who had little to no strategic interests in such a far off island. Their closest major city was over 2,000km away. By the time they learned of the events and Telegraphed back to Moscow what had happened, he and his army would be done.

12 March, 1891
Year of the Metal Rabbit
Northern Sakhalin Island

Sun Yat-sen had assembled more than half of his provincial army. His army consisted of 20,000 modern infantry; 25,000 repeating crossbomen whom were also armed with spears and shields, and 15,000 horse archers, about half of which had at least one firearm of some kind as a sidearm. He had no artillery to speak of, but he did have two heavily armed ships which provided escort during the crossing and they had cannons. He planned on having those cannons pulled off the ships for use if he came across much resistance. He signaled his fast ship, a Caravel, to sail back to Haishenwei and sent a Telegram to the Emperor notifying him that his army was chasing Russian Pirates back to the island of Sakhalin and planned to capture the northern half of the Island for the Celestial Empire's protection against Piracy.

by **Garwall** » Mon Oct 24, 2016 6:30 pm

Greater London Constabulary -- Headquarters
London, England, Commonwealth of Great Britain and the Low Countries
March 15th, 1891 -- Morning

The morning news. A fresh pot of tea. Some coffee, a few hard biscuits left over from the overnight shift. It was a ritual that the officers of London's finest police force enjoyed often. But that morning, the office was far more somber than normal. The Socialists continued to rock the boat across the narrow Channel in Wallonia, with ongoing strikes threatening to cripple the manufacturing of steel in the entire Low Countries region.

"And more bodies keep piling up," muttered Lieutenant Nathaniel Kissinger, who stared deeply into the crisp black print of today's paper from behind his desk. He preferred to have something to read often, it distracted from the distressing estate of his office. Cases were beginning to pile up, with reports of increasing distress and crime in the poorer boroughs, and a growing cancer of Red agitation among the city's worst-off. "..And the biscuits are stale." He laid the paper aside gingerly, as Sergeant Henry Lockhart--sitting across from him--reached for another helping. "It's not so bad," he offered.

"Obviously your mum wasn't good for shit," the Lieutenant commented. The two shared a chuckle, lightening the mood. "Eleven bodies in the past three fucking weeks--all beaten, bloodied... and shot." Nathaniel leaned back in his seat, puzzled. These sorts of developments were exactly what he was fearing.
"The wounds suggest more than one person. A group?" Henry offered. Nathaniel shook his head. "This? No. More like a bloody mob." The sergeant waved his hands. "A mob, then. But why? Ambushing people for a spare copper?"

"Some were the type to expect to have a fair amount of coin on them. Others, not so much. Can't say it's a pattern of assaulting upper-class for their purses," said Henry. Nathaniel nodded in agreement. A lull fell over the room, the two men sitting in thought. "Bloody election years," quipped Henry. "Everyone's already fired up for one reason or another, seems to drive everyone stark-fucking-mad." Nathaniel opened his mouth to laugh, but stopped short. A thought came upon him.

"Tell me, Henry. Do we know if these gentlemen had any party affiliations?" The Sergeant reached on the desk, grabbing a nearby dossier. He flipped through the pages, taking a few leisurely bites from a biscuit. "Seems they're all... Unionists, sir." The Lieutenant swore loudly, slamming his fist on the table. "What does it mean?" the sergeant wondered. Nathaniel rose from his seat, taking a few steps to the window and eyed the streets from two stories high. "I'll tell you what it means, Henry. It means we have a pack of bloodthirsty Marxists roaming our streets."

by **Esselman** » Mon Oct 24, 2016 7:11 pm

The Russian Empire
27 February, 1891

Okhe, Okhinsky District, island of Sakhalin

Okhe, a small Russian province so new that it had not even been officially recognized as a town itself, but still had made Okhe the administrative center for now. The railway system had not even fully been set up as it too was in infancy. The area had been primarily a run down province, ruled by pirates and passed by Cossacks, while the Kurile or Ainu people who were indigenous were being actively relocated due to an uneasy transition since the prior disgruntled history with Japan over the island. The island itself, though only northern control had been established remained unfocused on by the Russian Empire, and a very basic alliance with the Japanese held the island as a dead zone for expansion for worry of worrying the Japanese. Therefore the island was weak and unable to truly mount a defensive for any incoming attack, let alone an invasion.

Winter Palace, Saint Petersburg

Meanwhile on the Mainland, Vladimir Lenin, the Bolsheviks, and the Soviets had continued to grow immensely in power since their last meeting with the Tsar 20 days earlier in the month. The largest of which involved a stronger focus on industrialization to the extent of seizing farmers land to make room for buildings and other infrastructure, so that the economy wouldn't so heavily rely on the agricultural base that the Tsar had allowed. Farmers were combined in their lands and produce and goods were aloud to sell in markets, this made for less competition but ultimately was for the best. Communism as Lenin saw fit would not work for Russia, not so long as rivaling ideologies existed, and the Imperial Duma's reforms took a turn to capitalism that would help industrialize Russia rather than a forceful hand of Communism that Russia was simply not yet equipped for.

As agriculture was being weakened for the rooted stronghold it had, Lenin had crafted a strong alliance with the Soviets who primarily were for workers rights and protection of workers who were more powerful than ever before. The Soviets along with Lenin's Bolsheviks agreed to the creation of the Cheka, a division of the military but truly a secret police who patrolled communities but were firstly tasked with the suppression of farm lands and successful takeover by the government. Workers were employed in record numbers as the government was focused on a robust amount of industrialization. Though the Checka would be a harsh addition the Imperial Duma seemingly protected the people of Russia, or at least were advertised in such a way that people believed it. According the Duma, Russian peoples had more power than ever before, the Tsar was seemingly okay with the Constitutional Monarchy that the Duma was creating, and alliances in Europe shared a vision that coincided with Russia's. While the Tsar sat in more quiet luxury, the people were forging and churning a prosperous Russia.

The Cheka and other reforms were mostly branded as Lenin's doing and he became a hero for Russia, and even planned on expanding education to an illiterate populace as a part of spreading the ideals of a one party state but this would take time as well. Meanwhile the Soviets had been gaining representation in the Duma, pushing out other political ideologies who would no doubt disappear from Russia entirely. Letters for foreign negotiation now went through the Duma and were not shared with the Tsar but nor was he told of such communications either.

by **Newne Carriebean7** » Mon Oct 24, 2016 8:48 pm

on the edge of Lake Pontchartrain
Army of the Mississippi
January 26th,1891

General Walter Payne Lane saw a scene of dust and fog, the low substance filling the small tent he was in, getting out, he saw hundreds of graves next to him, then the sound of men yelling in Texan English before hearing the chick chick chick sound of Gatling guns going off, as he rushed to the scene, he saw a young man with his arms shot off, looking up at the man.
"why sirs, why'd ya have us attack?"
the boy then died, and several loud screams were heard, grasping his head, he screamed into a now torrential downpour of the rain filled sky.
"No,No Noooo!"
he then woke up.
Lane had trouble sleeping the night before, and this was the latest of his nightmares, looking at the grandfather clock in his tent, he realized today was the day of the attack,and so climbed out of bed at 3 in the morning to better prepare. by 4 his aides were waking up,and Lane grabbed a handful of some newfangled breakfast cereal called 'Busta brown's crunchy spectacle in your bowl of deliciousness'. after having somewhat of a breakfast, he looked over the plans once more ,as an aide entered with a cup of of coffee.
"hiya general."
"yeah,coffee?yeah, giveerhere."
as the hot liquid was handed to the general, his eyes looked bloodshot,with bags under them. as he took the first sip, it warmed him up, brining a smalll smile to his face. shaking his head slightly, as two more generals entered the tent, he began.
"alright then, you men know the plan ,right?"
the two men looked at each other,tilted their heads back, and threw them down on the table.
"either that's your take that the mission is inherent suicide,or you just want another raise! you aren't persuading me on either counts,so there's no point in that."
as he took another sip,General Arnold,Thomson's replacement, began.
"why have we still not taken the town of New Orleans? we could take it and allow us to supply our men with it's food, guns and maybe we could capture a few of the enemies cannons."
"because, general Thomson, our main objective is to defeat the enemy army and taking a city is not defeating the enemy's army, sure it has supplies,but our system of wagon trains are working out just fine."
"they would work better if we had that city under our control!"
Thomson barked at the man.
"now, I see what you are doing, but we can't spend men that we would need up here to go off down further south to capture a city. we only have 10,450 soldiers, if we even take a fraction of them away, both attacks are in jeopardy!"
"they would be better than having the lives wasted here! have you contacted Austin for more men?"
"No, as we have ten thousand men just three days march away."
"and you're planning an attack?!"
"yes,why wouldn't I be?"
"the smart decision would be to wait for your reinforcements!"
"I'm not smart, ok! I only got this job because his wife had ol'Frost in bed,and he didn't want he press from finding out, now I have this cushy job as a commander, happy?!"
"very. Now I know this attack was doomed from the start."
with a ferocious left hook, General lane clobbered General Arnold.
"that's enough,gentlemen, now report to your posts for the upcoming assault at once!"
"Yes sir."
as the men left the room, General Lane looked at the clock again, it was 5 am, and the bombardment by the thirty seven Napoleonic war era cannons,mainly 12 pounders and a handful of 24 pounder cannons had to begin soon, he just knew it needed to start... looking at the clock again, two minutes had passed, that turned into five and then seven, what the hell were the cannon crews doing,trying on dresses?! he thought in his head before being interrupted by the dull muzzle loaded boom of a napoleon.this was followed by men bellowing the command to shoot until they were hoarse in the throat up and down the line of battery as the cannonballs flew into the air towards their targets. the bombardment had begun.

Three hours later
Private Michale Lartenski gripped the Winchester Model 1876 repeating rifle,with the fifteen round magazine inside the weapon. they were part of the main infantry body that was to assault the left side of Lake Pontchartrain. they had been organized,the four thousand men into forty, hundred man groups lead by captain after captain. as the Texan flags fluttered in the wind, several whistles were blown and the familiar Texan smell of the camp's hoecakes with honey became a distant memory,soon to be replaced with gunpowder and smoke. the griff looking commander mounted his horse for the unit and unsheathed his sword.
"Company,march steady pace, on the rows,forwards!"
as the spick and spanner band began to play will you come to the bower,Lartenski enjoyed the breif paced walk from the rest of the unit, but that was not to last for long as two bugles were sounded,prompting the men to run,being reminded by their captain at the newer recruits who were caught off guard.
"run you dammned Texans,forwards!"
then the yellow rose of Texas began to be played by the running band to keep up with the men and to encourage them to run faster. within a short while the Texan forces were almost halfway there,when the enemy positions lit up like a Christmas tree,only instead of presents,came projectiles, showering the men with bullets and hot lead, forcing many of them off guard, the ones that returned fire could only get a volley or two off before they too fled, it was a complete massacre. Lartenski was surprised by the suddenness of the attack, and hastily loaded the rifle with a handful of shots and blasted aimlessly into the night, he remembered he was through the seventh of the 15 rounds when he felt pain shoot through his chest,and then he blacked out, the rifle falling out of his hand, another casualty of the war.

Platform A of the Drunken Ferret Train Station
January 25th,1891
James Faust and Hinkley Carlentspruger huddled near each other on the train station's small bench that was there next to the tracks. they had been relived that they were to be sitting down for much of the journey, as the men waited for the train to arrive, Hinkley asked
"when will that damned train get here?"
James checked on his watch,it was a quarter to six in the morning,not so early enough for human conversation. mumbling something and pointing out to a light, Hinkley peered out and saw the light reveal it'self to be locomotive 2249,The Light of Democracy as the name was displayed on the side, with miniature Texan flags being seen on either side as the train came to a stop.
"ready to go?,the train's here."
"I heard you the first time, yeah."
with a slight laugh,both men boarded the train with the mob of slaves and soldiers as it began to move again by the impatient driver of the locomotive.

Oklahoman-Missourian fort of Grand River
town of Chardente
January 26th,1891
Chospake Tsaladihi sighed as the shouting started up again, Colonel White had "awoken" from his drunken rage induced nap,he was a madman to put it lightly, but he was Texas's madman, and if he was a fully fledged Texan, he would be a normal one, as the bad temper seemed to spread from person to person in Texas, there were notable exception such as Sam,and he was with the army, but he'd half to talk to him after Calvary drills. when the man was done yelling, Tsaladihi mounted his horse and raced around the small dirt road with three other military clothed Texan Apaches in the army, he heard they were volunteers,but he doubted that story, he had been "convinced" to sign up,and so it wasn't that hard to think he was taken from his home as well. as the three rode into the small town, several townspeople just stared at the unusual sight. some of their comments were audible to the entire group.
"lordallmighty, we've lost the war haven't we?"
"hell I'd agree, we're using injut slaves as cannonfo'der, must mean the good troops are too few and in between."
"these damned native's soon rebel than fight for us, let's just get the pistols ready to put em to the sword!"
Tsaladihi's blood boiled at the last comment, turning the reigns, he trotted up to the man that had said it,and put his hand on his revolver, seeing the startled man do the same thing.
"what was that last part about us not being faithful to the state? I'd spit in your coffee, but you look too poor to afford a cup, us natives have had a proud warrior tradition, and now you say we're cowards and traitors? Ridiculous!"
with that, the bewildered man found a bottle of whiskey and married it to his lips, the alcohol filled ceremony lasting a few seconds as the Indian and the small posse trotted away.

by **The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile** » Mon Oct 24, 2016 8:59 pm

Budapest, Kingdom of Hungary

King Joseph III had not been expecting the flurry of correspondence he received from two of his neighbors. It seemed the Tzar, enthusiastic about securing his Bessarabian border, had eagerly written back to the Kingdom, expressing his desire for cooperation between Hungary and Russia. Hungary's Eastern neighbor requested the use of Hungarian fields and manufacturing in exchange for trade deals and a promise of non-aggression. This seemed like a brilliant idea to Joseph. Firstly, it would secure the enormous swathe of land on Hungary's eastern border, freeing up hundreds of thousands of garrison troops for other fronts. It would also allow the Carpathian nation access to Russia's vast markets, providing a steady influx of raw goods- provided Hungary had the money. There was another small bonus; Hungarian land could provide another level of stability to Russia, potentially bringing the rapid Socialization of Russia to a halt. Joseph wanted a friendly monarch in power in the East and not a raving peasent. If a paltry number of fields and factories had to be sacrificed to achieve this goal, Joseph was more than willing to do so. And a rather peculiar letter had also arrived from the Byzantines. It seemed that their Emperor had made a tentative overture at some sort of treaty, though what the King was uncertain of. He issued two responses and sent them out immediately, wanting the Russian Treaty to be established as soon as possible.

With foreign affairs out of the way, Joseph next set about reviewing the army. All elements considered, the Royal Hungarian Army consisted of about 600,000 troops. Only around 400,000 of those were regular, frontline men, with the remainder being Home Guard and irregular units. Although relatively large for a relatively small Balkan nation, the army was accordingly in a rather pathetic state. Their equipment could be considered Napoleonic, and much of it was salvaged; an average soldier might have weapons from Britain, France, Germany, Byzantium, or Russia- with only a fraction of them having Hungarian weaponry. Even then the Hungarian weapons were poorly made and designed, and most soldiers preferred the looted equipment to that. The structure of the Hungarian army was disjointed and convoluted, with many overlapping theatres and unclear commands. Many generals and other commanding officers had been appointed simply because of their political or social connections or through bribery, meaning that many commanders were sloppy, lazy and incompetent, while the truly brilliant officers were shunted to backwater positions. With all of these problems it seemed unlikely that Hungary could become a major military power, but Joseph was determined to try.

Firstly he designated three main commands; first was the Carpathian HQ, which held authority over Hungary proper and was mostly concerned with homeland defense, as well as the defense of the German and Byzantine borders. Next was the Rumanian HQ, which ruled over all of Hungarian-occupied Romania. This theatre was supposed to guard a large stretch of the Byzantine border, as well as combat Romanian insurgents. Finally was the Bessarabian HQ, which was in command of all of the Russian border; defense of said land was their only priority. To the Carpathian HQ Joseph assigned 225,000 men; to the Rumanian HQ he provided 200,000 men; and the Bessarabian HQ was allotted 175,000 men, the vast majority of which were irregular troops. With the command structure reorganized, Joseph set about the long and dull process of appointing leaders for the units...

by **Republic Of Varra** » Mon Oct 24, 2016 10:17 pm

GERMANIA FEBRUARY 27, 1891:

The chancellor, with his newly fashioned wooden leg walked up in a surprisingly non-limping fashion to the podium addressing the German people. Many people in the crowd seemed to be murmuring and chatting idly while he made his way.

He began to speak. Although his voice seemed to be filled with an edge of suppressed contempt. "My Germans." He began. "No...Europeans as a whole. I address you today for something that currently infests our world as we speak."

He showed his wounded leg, with many gasps and horrified looks from throughout the crowd. He had kept his leg a secret up until this point from the public eye. "On January 29th, 1891, I had lost my leg to an an attempt on my life...but even worse... this criminal was none other than a radical socialist."

Shouts and cries rang out from the crowd.

"This is not the only instance that the horrible ideology has tried to disrupt our lives. Uprisings in Iberia, and even the Anglo-Dutch Union have been happening. Destroying lives, and yes, even killing innocent people."

The crowd roared in anger and outrage.

"I reach out to all Europeans to stand against this new threat to our life. We have to come together to crush and destroy this infestation before it grows any larger. From now on, the Germanic Republic will be providing support to all European nations against Marxist uprisings. For the glory of Europe. We Germans will scoff in the face of this threat! No more shall we take the backseat! We shall destroy this ideology!"

The crowd was almost hysterical. The chancellor left the stage in stride.

Later that evening...

by **Altegonnia** » Mon Oct 24, 2016 11:39 pm

Constaniople, Byzantine Empire
Commander Palogos, a major player in the Legion, stands before a crowd of thousands of passive supporters. Although the group is known for violence, its militant population is dwarfed by simply those who donate or support the cause. Palogos organized this event under the name "Byzantines against socialism and communism and so far the event has attracted the crowds intended. Palogos would stand before the crowd, donned in a formal suit and tie. A red sash going across his torso containing the words "Simul, ad urbem. Sed bonum quod non liberaverunt conquerers" in gold. Palogos gave a brief speech up on the stage where in he called for true Byzantine citizens to protect their families from the "faithless, arbitrary and cruel ideologies of socialism and communism." And he also went on about how, "true men who love Byzantium should defend the motherland." By joining the legion's ranks. However he was not the only guest speaker. Several scholars of varying position and popularity who support and endorse Roman Fascism also spoke. However the political rally was not the only part of the event planned.

After the speeches and the politics recruitment was a thrown together festival, with food and entertainment. Every stall and every worker showed pride in Roman Culture and even the food in some way propagandized this message. While the effects of this anti-leftist, Roman cultural festival are debatable, what is not debatable that the Legion is throwing more and more public festivities like this across Byzantium in an attempt to further garner more average Byzantium citizens into their support bloc.

by **Kerbodine** » Thu Oct 27, 2016 10:23 pm

January 26th, Fort Grant, Seneca, Missouri State, Superior (Border with Oklahoma [part of Texas])

General Schwartz of Army South's Southwest Missouri Corps (S-II.IV), on border assignment to defend against and maintain order along the Kansas, Oklahoma, and Arkansas borders, was standing on the balcony of the fort's main hall in full dress uniform next to his immediate subordinates, most importantly of which were Colonel Fischer (S-II.IV.i.I.0.1), Colonel Ackerman (S-II.IV.i.2.0.1), and Major Bradley, though there were several other lieutenant colonels, majors, and captains, most notably Captain Joseph Mengleson (commander of artillery unit S-II.IV.I.i.2.1.1.3, famous throughout tactician's circles for his recently published book, Artillery Advance). There were a total of 20,000 men actively under General Schwartz's command, and he intended to do his best for each and every one of them.
The commanders were looking down into the parade grounds, watching units of several hundred men march in formation, all in full dress uniform. Superior's dress uniform was a mix of the old American and Prussian styles, the main color being the same dark grey as featured on their flag, though certain officers- especially here in the South- wore a darker tone of the blue. The traveling Naval Reserve Band, led by the famous Sergeant John P. Sousa himself, was playing in the background (including a few of Sousa's most recent marches):

As the music continued to play in the background, over 2,000 men marching to its beat, about 1/10th of Schwartz's Southwest Missouri Corps, conversation began between Gen. Schwartz and Col. Ackerman. Ackerman started: "Hallo, Heerführer Schwartz." In his clipped Prussian accent, Ackerman continued: "Ich am most vorried about ze Texans. Have ve doubled ze outpost garrisons yet, as you said?" "Well, Ackerman, the process was begun just yesterday, and should only take a few days." As several companies began to do firing drills, Gen. Schwartz finished by instructing Col. Ackerman to "Meet me in my office after parade for a briefing."

Gen. Schwartz's study, 4:00 PM

Colonel Ackerman saluted at the doorway, clicking his heels together. Colonel Fischer and Major Bradley followed suit. General Schwartz, adjusting the only piece of ornament on his desk, a picture of his beloved Frau Schwartz, welcomed them in. "Our situation is relatively stable," he started, "and we really haven't anything to fear from the Texans; even if they launched a full-on attack with, say, a few thousand men, our line could hold. This is- well, until the New England, ah, incidents, it WAS- the best defended border in North America. We have five major outposts with garrisons of a platoon of about fifty men each- doubled from the twenty five we had before- and this fort, with a barracks of several thousand men. Then there are the barracks back in Springfield, which we can rush men out to the fort from in just a few hours by rail- there's always a train on standby. Also, you have to keep in mind that we have artillery, the Texans don't. We have no idea what kind of forces they really have out there- it seems to vary month to month from just a dozen men in the Grand River fort to a few hundred." After continuing about the Texan forces for a while, the General reminded the men that they ought to be prepared to meet the Texan ambassadors when they arrived, as they would be coming to the fort briefly before taking the railways to St. Louis (where they would meet with Superiorite officials). The meeting continued for another half hour before concluding with an attendant bringing in beer and coffee, with the commanders content that the border was secured against the unpredictable Texans.

Blood and Iron [IC/ALT-HISTORY/OPEN]

Who is online