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

by **The Valyria Empire** » Tue Oct 11, 2016 11:08 pm

Eastern Roman Empire, Constantinople, January 1st, 1891
A cool breeze swept through the city of Constantinople. The people sat in the Hippodrome slowly awaiting for the Basileus' arrival. Soon enough Constantine XIII stepped through the purple curtains with his hands raised, his crown glistening in the sun. Once the crowd settled the man spoke, "Romans! We have endured while many have fallen! You are the ones responsible to for bringing justice upon the unworthy, you are the ones who have reclaimed the Holy Land, you are the ones who have brought our great Empire to where it is today!" The man paused lowered his arms and looked out to the great sky. "Constantine the twelve of his name, Caesar, Augustus, Alexios, and Trajan can look down on us knowing that their actions were not wasted! The Roman Empire lives on, and will continue for the people! Let the games begin!" Constantine concluded at that moment the gates rose and the blue and green chariot teams came rushing in.

After the game had ended and Constantine retired to his palace he began to write, knowing that his people were growing restless and desired to restore the Empire to its former glory. He wrote to his many despots throughout the Empire, Bulgaria, Egypt, Syria, and Jerusalem.

To my many loyal Despots,
Romans, the time has come for us to regain our glory! We are the Legacy of Rome and are destined to restore the Roman Empire! I ask for you all to gather in Nicea where we shall hold a council on the expansion of this great nation.

-Signed, Basileus Constantine XIII Palaiologos

With that concluded he would go out to the balcony of his palace where he could see the Hagia Sophia. He scratched his greying beard and closed his eyes. Watch over me, Justinian. The Empire you lived and died for will not be lost, Rome will live on. Constantine thought as he placed his hands on the smooth marble of the balcony.

by **Auchterland** » Wed Oct 12, 2016 9:58 am

Free State of Brazil | Vrijstaat Brazilië

10 January, 1891
Nationaal Paleis, Heuvelsbaai, Brazilië

The commemorations of the new year had been grand and full of demonstrations and passionate speeches - but they had passed. Now was the time to take matters at hand. Almost two weeks into the year, and Stadtholder Berend van Straaten intended to progress with the plans that he and the Council of State had been discussing for months. Before we progress with our narrative, it may be a matter of interest to explain what, exactly, are the Stadtholder and the Council of State in the Free State of Brazil: the Stadtholder is elected by the Parliament, and generally stays in this position until death, unless he either resigns or 3/4 of the Parliament vote him out. He is the protector of the Free State's sovereignty. Among his powers and duties are to tend to relations with foreign States, to determine who is a brazilian national, to declare war or peace and to command the army and navy. The Council of States, in turn, is a body of eight men, politicians and technicians, charged with tending to the internal administration of the country - things such as infrastructure, economy and health & sanitation - and appointing governors for the provinces. They are handpicked by the Stadtholder and hold their position for an undetermined amount of time, but may be fired at will by him.

With this being said, Berend sat in his office, holding an iberian letter in his hands. His response to it could drastically take the Free State's politics either one way or another. Brazil experienced a time of great prosperity - the crops, especially coffee, had been plentiful and brought wealth to the country. This brought the hopes of Berend and other nationalist politicians up like never before. He could feel something growing in his chest. Brazil was on the rise, and saw its chance to grasp a greater future. Maybe, such a chance would never arise again. He read the words inked onto the paper once more. Despite iberian presence in South America seeming to contradict the Continentaal Mandaat ideology through which he governed in the long run, he would rather have them on his side for the next step in his plan. To be honest, he would rather have as many allies as possible. Thus, he made his decision. He would grasp this chance.

To Alberto Juzes, Deputy-Chief Diplomat of the Most Royal Iberian Kingdom

Greetings, gentleman. I assure you there is no need to worry about the grudges of generations past - I have one eye set on the present and another one on the future. Even if I was to care about this, our people are no longer the same as from centuries ago: the people of Brazil, too, have a little bit of iberian blood in their veins. We are as distant cousins.

Now, onto the matters at hand. Peace in the Americas, and the whole world by extension, is among my greatest interests. I do not only agree with your proposition, but also emphasize the need to bring our countries closer. Thus, I propose the expansion of the network of railroads and waterways that connect Brazil to Colombia-Venezuela, so that there may be a greater and faster flow of goods, people and information between our lands.

At last, the attempt on your king's life has come to my knowledge and I would like to state how I lament that situation and hope that he may be in good health.

Sincerely,
Berend van Straaten, Stadtholder of the Free State of Brazil

To Don Salvador de Iturbide-Habsburgo y Marzán, Emperor of Mexico

Greetings, Your Majesty. It has been known for a long time that our two nations are undoubtedly the greatest that America has ever given birth to, and we are pleased to observe this state of things. As such, it seems to me that we are tasked with a great mission: that of preventing our great continent from falling into utter anarchy or into the hands of the vile and tyrannical. To such an end, I propose that we unite in a military alliance, and look forward for greater cooperation between us and the other nations of America.

Sincerely,
Berend van Straaten, Stadtholder of the Free State of Brazil

by **Republic Of Varra** » Wed Oct 12, 2016 3:24 pm

13 January 1891 Germany, regarding recent events, the chancellor found it necessary to contact many of his alliances and building relationships.

by **Danceria** » Wed Oct 12, 2016 5:41 pm

The Empire of Mexico and Central America/El Imperio de México y América Central

Equidad en la Justicia

Chapultepec Castle, Mexico City, Imperial Federated District, Mexico
14 January, 1891

Ordinarily, the harsh winter winds of the north would bear down on the people of most nations, and anyone would be foolish to stand outside would be chilled to death. But not in this case. The harsh promises of a bitter winter lost their strength and venom as they crossed the Rio Grande on southern winds, instead dancing under a clear Mexican sky and warmed by the hearts of the people. That warmth never slept, and even now awoke and shook off the last moments of slumber before another day. Birds would be heard chirping, greeting the already rising sun with their song, bells telling and tolling the time, a few early trains would chug down into one of Mexico City's many Railway Stations, bringing with them people and goods from all over the Empire, and stern parents would shake the dreams of wide eyed youths for chores stating that "If you do not come down here by the time I count to cinco, so help me Santa Maria...!"

Mexico was awoken, as it was many days. Some would recall and reminisce that times were among the most peaceful in Mexico's history, while the children who would continue the trade of their parents or masters would be blessed not to know of the civil wars and strife that riddled the country only two decades before. Among those up would be a young man who retained a handsome face and demeanor, gazing across the city from a modest and fortress-like palace in the center of the city. For a few moments he would take in the sights and sounds of the city, enjoying the peacefulness of an early optimistic morning.

He would soon be reminded of his duties as another sound graced his ears, this time from inside the castle, the soft but dutiful click-clack of shoes on a polished floor, and a prompt knock at the door.

"¿Su Majestad?" A sweet but elderly voice would inquire. "Are you awake?"

"Come in Larissa." the man would sigh, and the door was opened. "I wasn't sure if you were feeling nauseous from the operation." a slender and raven haired maid would glide over, her steps silenced slightly by the carpet in the room. "Doctor Acquarone wants you to take the pills before you eat." "I know what the doctor wants me to do. Trust me, I'm feeling slightly less nauseous."

The man, a certain Don Salvador de Iturbide-Habsburgo y Marzán, Heir Apparent to the Empire of Mexico, had recently underwent an operation to remove his appendix. As a result, the normally exuberant Crown Prince was faced with mild nausea and light-headedness, mild annoyances.

"The Congress is calling a special meeting." The Maid continued, offering her arm to walk him in case the nausea proved too much, but the proud prince declined with a wave. "They're up and early as well?" Salvador chuckled and exited the room. "What is it this time? The Texans giving us trouble? Some angry Don? The Californians want those crazy Mormons back on their side of the Rio Grande?"

"Worse, sir..." she stated glumly "You best wash up quickly, the Congress has received word that Venezuela's bidding for independence."

A sharp silence cut off any joking thoughts that Salvador may have had, and steeled him to the implications. "Are you certain?"

The maid replied with a shake of her head "I'm not, there's numerous letters and telegrams addressed to you from foreign dignitaries, all awaiting your response."

Salvador sighed "Put the kettle on, get Agustín and Díaz at the table as soon as you can. We need a plan of action before publicly addressing the issue."

by **Holoska** » Wed Oct 12, 2016 6:36 pm

by **Newne Carriebean7** » Wed Oct 12, 2016 7:03 pm

Republican unionist states of Texas and Oklahoma
Friendship and Labor conquer all things
Mojave Limited Locomotive
200 miles to Needles,California
January 11th,1891

John Hondarez felt the train go over slight bumps, he needed to go to bed,but he wanted to see what Richard was doing, opening up the door, he noticed the old grandfather clock stuck at 11:18, it was nearly fully dark outside, the way from cart to cart illuminated only by a handful of lights that were still left on. as he gripped the sides of the train, a hand caught ,him and he wa forced into a small sideways sleeping quarters,scarcely twelve feet long and six feet wide, with a ten foot ceiling. inside sat a pair of beds tucked onto the side, and sat along one of them was Richard,with models of airships adorning the walls. Hondarez felt confused.
"um, what exactly do you want from me again?"
"I-I'm lonely during the night, could you stay with me?"
Hondarez looked puzzled, and then he felt sad and pitiful for the man.
"alright then, but just for the night."
as the man climbed into the cramped little space,Richard's face beamed with joy.
"I am an airship enthusiast, ever since I saw a trial of the famed Z-001 a few years back. I had my father take several pictures with the family camera, which I have right here."
the picture was handed to Hondarez, who stared at it for a moment before nodding his head.
"that's quite interesting, I'm glad you have some hobbies in life."
as he said that, a shiny little model of a zeppelin caught his eye
"say, what's this toy?"
Richard panicked and then yanked the toy away from him.
"it's not a toy! it's a model airship, there's a difference, you don't play with this toy, you look at it."
"well, that's alright then, I guess, it is a really neat thing."
Richard's face went from hostile to beaming with interest and happiness.
"thanks! do you want to see one of my home movies? it's a series of thirty moving pictures in this drum, it shows an airship passing over a house."
"n-no, I thank you right now, you are one of the finest fellows I ever met, if I could, I would issue you a military commission, and perhaps put you in charge of airship development. with the Texan Air Force, if we establish one."
Richard's voice squealed with happiness and excitement.
"that's that's wonderful! to think, a command in the military of airships, I could show everyone what's what with these new things, we could make them bigger, they can have a civilian use in flying the rich passengers around, and then a military use carrying supplies or bombing cities!"
as Hondarez left Richard's small home on the train, he faced him,with both men now in the hallway and not in the cubby.
"indeed, now then, I'll put in a recommendation for you of the Military command in Austin."
"thank you sir."
Richard almost fainted as Hondarez shook his hand firmly.

Austin,Texas state of the Republican unionist states of Texas and Oklahoma
Revolutionary Alamo Martyr's street
January 9th,1891
"death to the rich who starve us!"
28 year old Peter Johnson Young grimaced as the flamable bottle of alcohol was tossed at the rows of soldiers 100 men each,missing short and sending flaming shrapnel everywhere. the unflinching heads of the soldiers grasped their rifles as the unorganized mob marches twoards them. Young did not like the ways and methods being used,as he was once a former preist, but he had run on hard times because of the lack of work in his area, and so was one of the nearly thousnad workers that clogged the streets of the city. the soldiers organized into three rows, the first one kneeling, the second one standing and the third gripping their rifles,waiting for the captain on horseback to give the order.
"attention protestors, you are to surrender at once your disruptive riot to the saftey of the texan state and her people, failure to do so may result in the texan army opening fire."
the rioters spat and let off several pot shots, one of which hit a soldier next to the captain on horseback, forcing the young man to collapse on the ground.
"bastards, fire!"
the nervous rifled soldiers quickly pointed the mass of wood and steel at them, nearly two hundred rifles aimed at the mob, and let loose with two volleys of the shots at near point blank range, presenting near perfect accuracy. the mob fled in disorder, with some taking cover in alleyways and letting off pot shots with their father's hunting rifles while others were hit by the bullets and cried for their mothers before dying in a pool of blood. by the time the last rioter had been arrested an hour earlier, nearly one hundred and ninty one protesters had been killed, and another one hundred and seven were wounded in various ways to various degrees of pain.

Austin, Republican Unionist state of Texas and Oklahoma.
Presidential Residence
January 10th,1891
President Samuel Julian Frost usually had a somewhat firey temper, as he was once a bishop for a local methodist church. now the terrified aides handed him the paper called The Cactus Express that said "Massacre in Texas, hundreds of rioters killed by the texan army!" as it's front headline, with a quick artisits rendition, similar to the boston massacre being painted on the front of the paper. setting the paper down once reading the first paragraph, he sighed.
"three hundred right?"
"nearly two hundred were killed at once, and nearly a quarter have died last night trying to nurse their wounds."
"god help me smite my enemies, primarily the damned press which will find a way to blame me for this, I'll be lucky if I don't get impeached!"
"now,Mister President, I'm sure it's just a setback, you could blame it on the indians, or say they were all drunk."
"that would never work, these were apparently very poor people who could find some old guns to use and shot at the army soldiers, the captain of the texan army that was there, what is his name?"
"captain Harold Sharpes sir."
"have him come into my office."
"sir, he was wounded in the battle,and he died a few hours in his sleep."
Frost put his hands on his head and sighed.
"all the better for the devil's witnesses to be gone, if it'll mean that there's one less idiot in our grand army, the better, hopefully they get taught to deal with angry gun weiling nutjobs known as the people of the city!"
" sir, things will get better, the only thing now is, what do we do about the soldiers involved?"
"fire the lot of them, no, execute them,no, execute five of them, it'll please both sides hopefully, but what the hell do I know?!"
"sir!"
"what? hells in the bible."
"if you say so, oh, and the naval report's on the table."
"huh? oh,my thanks,dismissed."
as the aide walked away and Frost examined the naval report, he had found out that there was an assault on Louisana without his knowlledge.
"Sun of a birch! those no good suns of birches, I'll slap them silly and eat their mother's home cooking for making the military, and me in particular, seem, so unproffessional!"
with a huff, he grabbed his coat, only to have the door blocked off by an aide.
"sir, we have a lot to do to-"
"don't care,angry as a bull right now, get out of my way before I ram you agaisnt the wall with my skull!"
the aide, frightened, let the pissed off president leave the room, the door slamming behind Frost.

Mississippi River,Louisianan swamp like area
January 10th,1891
Captain Louis Bell Luigi cursed as he looked through the telescope out to the smoke covered and lit up battlefield. the assault had stalled near the second crossing, with an old Spanish fort being a stronghold for the Louisianan garrison that was in there. scores of wounded had been evacuated to the medical camp, and the casualties had reached it's first two hundredth man to fall to the Louisianan ball and shot. the fort was positioned at the mouth of where the men were to cross, and the bodies that filled the waters were growing with each hour. a solution to send flaming rafts to try and sink some ships of the small Louisiana fleet that was anchored beside the fort, and being a thorn in the Texan militia's side, had failed miserably. as a cannonball flew into the old fortress, it shuddered under the impact.
"how close are we to breaking the dammed cat?"
"they keep repairing the walls, so we can't do as much damage as we would have liked to."
"get me captain Farris, he is to run the gauntlet between the enemy fleet and the fort's guns to enable our troops to attack as well. we've been at this assault for three days now, and I would like something positive to put on my report for the Mississippian river campaign for Louisiana."
"Yes sir."
within a few minutes, a grumbled captain that smelt of booze entered the tent.
"captain Farris,your orders are to lead the paddle wheeled steamers Echelon and the Youthful between the enemy fleet and the fortress, where you are to allow us covering fire,along with our own heavy cannons."
"my ships are not yet ready for the assault, we have holes in the bottom and it is hard to get the water out, and yet you want us to attack? you must be mad."
"mad, captain Farris, is what wins wars, it helps the soldiers laugh when their friends are dying, that is why I am mad."
"doesn't explain why you killed your wife."
Captain Luigi got defensive and grabbed his side arm, but then sat back down, his hand going off the trigger.
"I did not kill her, for the thousandth time, she was murdered by her ex husband."
"the jury's still out on that one, If you need me, I'll be preparing for the attack."
with that, Captain Farris left to head to the Youthful into battle.

by **Kerbodine** » Wed Oct 12, 2016 7:11 pm

Shivering from cold, a paperboy calls out during Chicago rush hour, trying to be heard over the clack-clack of horses' feet on the setts and the thud-thud of men's boots as they march to and fro in their heavy winter coats. "Read all about it, stock market stabilized! Full story p-p-page three!" This particular headline drew little attention, as it was practically already old news. Still, a banker grabbed a copy, tossing to the boy a single copper before stumping off. Tweaking his derby hat, he glimpses at half of the folded front page:

-CHICAGO TRIBUNE-
Volume 91, Issue 10 January 10 1891 English Edition, One Penny/Pfennig
A Superior Paper for Superiorites
CHICAGO STOCK MARKET STABILIZES AT TEN PERCENT LOSS
AFTER a meeting with the Magisterial Council, The Honourable Minister of the Exchequer Robert McFaull has released an official government report stating that the Central Government will not be doing anything about the recent New Year's Chicago market dip, as they expect the saturation of steel to be sold off by mid-February, largely due to domestic projects such as new ships, bridges, and the brand-new steel framed building. The world's demand for steel is rising exponentially, and Superior's ideal location for producing steel has already made it one of the largest and fastest-growing exporters in the world, greatly increasing its economy within the past decade. As Greater Germany, the Anglo-Dutch Commonwealth, and Greater Superior continue to duel for the position of dominant steel producer in the world, if Superior is able to overproduce, that's not necessarily a bad example of its industrial capacity. After taking into account all factors involved,... [continued on page 3]
GERMAN CHANCELLOR PRAISES VON BISMARCK'S PREVIOUS WORK, TENSIONS WITH FRANCE RISE
IN A recent New Year's address to the public, the German Chancellor mentioned his pride in Germany's uniting, even citing our Honourable Otto von Bismarck as instrumental in uniting, contrary to certain prior politicians' statements. On a less pleasant note, tensions seem to be on the rise between Germany and France, with some experts even saying war may break out in the foreseeable future. As Socialist France continues to grow more aggressive and yet more powerful, some within Europe cry to form a defensive alliance; whether or not Germany will be privy to such an idea, we can but wait and see. As the French continue to... [continued on page 5]
WINTER MILITARY EXERCISES BEGIN OUTSIDE OF ST. LOUIS
JUST OUTSIDE of St. Louis, not far from Fort Malcolm Regional Command Center, new military techniques are being tested. In addition to the first mass-testing of the 'Palmer-Milwaukee 1890' PM-90 modern bolt-action rifle, the Central Army's 2nd and 3rd Corps will be running through pre-planned mass deployment, and closing in a week with the test of mass loading onto a purpose-built rail line and redeployment a few miles down. Other intended tests include modern observance balloons and new artillery techniques. It is speculated whether the Military may be testing any secret, technologically advanced materiel, with the most popular theory being that of so-called 'field telephones'. However, Professor John Sandford of Jackson City, Missouri believes that... [continued on page 5]

by **Nuxipal** » Wed Oct 12, 2016 7:45 pm

Celestial Empire of Tianxia
18 January, 1891
Year of the Metal Tiger

The Forbidden City, Imperial City, Beijing

More than a week passed as several investigations took place. Emperor Jian had made friends with the Zhu family and one of the sisters of Zhu Yuxun. Her name was Zhu Ruyang, she was at the age of twenty years. The Emperor and her were fast friends soon finding they enjoyed similar poetry and books. On the fifteenth of January, Emperor Jian and Zhu Ruyang were formally betrothed before the Imperial Family Tombs of the Ming Dynasty.

A ceremony was being planned that would mark the beginning of Emperor Jian's years of having an Empress by his side. He had already been promised the younger sister as well as the first of his concubines once she reached age twenty.

That day in court was very important as well, as Emperor Jian was calling the next adviser forward a commotion took place. A man, a minor noble by the looks of him, was being dragged before the Emperor who had his Empress-to-Be as well as her brother and sister siting beside him. His captain of the Guard walked forward with a scroll.

"Sir, from the special investigation you ordered, we discovered this man, Li Zicheng. He was named after his ancestor, who is the cause of the Ming collapse. This man has been stealing the funds meant for the Zhu family from the Tianzi family. He claims to be the true emperor of the Shun Dynasty and that the money rightfully belongs to him." The man struggled to break free, but was restrained. Emperor Jian stood, he wasn't a great warrior or anything, but he did have several ceremonial weapons that the family possessed. One of which was a Japanese Katana which Jian called for immediately.

"This man has been caught actively stealing money from the current Emperor and the family of past Emperors. As my descendants will be of the blood of both families, it is my duty to sentence this man to death. Bring me my sword."

Jian had taken to carrying the sword on his person while within the confines of the Palace. A servant brought it to him and he drew it. It was still as sharp as it was when it was forged centuries ago. He looked at the man for a moment before bringing the weapon across the man's neck. A quick and painless death was granted to the thief. He handed his sword off to the servant who immediately went to clean the weapon. Emperor Jian took his throne again and asked the captain a question.

"Was any of the money found in his personal apartment and how did it come to pass that he was able to steal all of the payments for the Marquis and his family these last few years?" The captain hesitated, "We are searching his apartment now. As for how he came to work here, he used a false name and has been using his position to spy for the rest of his family in the Shaanxi province. They are too weak to revolt as of yet, but there have been intercepted letters regarding a possible uprising in the next ten years in the province to put the Shun Dynasty back on the throne."

The Emperor hesitated at this. Marching his army to the Shaanxi province would set the revolt off immediately. Sending an envoy would give them time to prepare still and they would know he was on to them. There had to be one other option. "Can you have the entire Li family which is related to this man arrested for treason? I will have the Generals in Shaanxi ready to aid you should revolts stir."

The captain saluted his Emperor, "Yes, My Emperor." With that the Captain and several guards removed the body and went about following the Emperor's orders.

by **Garwall** » Wed Oct 12, 2016 8:31 pm

The Commonwealth of Great Britain and the Low Countries

TO: Republic of Germany
FROM: Foreign Ministry of the Commonwealth of Great Britain and the Low Countries
SUBJECT: German East African Incident
ENCRYPTION: HIGH

It is a great deal of relief to know that we may be able to settle this matter efficiently for all. The Commonwealth will dispatch the necessary diplomats to Berlin as quickly negotiate a settlement to this issue. Our diplomats may also participate in discussions regarding the military situation in Europe, in an effort to ensure peace and stability in the region.

We hope to continue this civility in our negotiations.

Office of the Grand Admiral of the Fleet, Ministry of War
London, England, Commonwealth of Great Britain and the Low Countries
February 15th, 1891 -- Early morning

"Reports from the Colonial Command Office indicate that the Congo situation has... Deteriorated. Effectively, the Dutch colonial troops are slaughtering villages in retaliation for their complicity in providing for the Sultanates that rule the local territory. Without a strong foot presence to govern these lands, the little troops already present will simply keep having to turn around and put down revolts left and right if we continue this way."

Grand Admiral Jacob van Leuvan listened to the report being delivered as he gathered in his cadre of naval officers. These international briefings were routine, but rarely did they seem so grim. "In the Americas, we can see a significant rise in tension among the Statelets of Texas, California--as well as their collective neighbor, Mexico. I believe in a prior meeting, this was one of the regions to be placed under special considerations for harboring the next future conflict--luckily, one that will not likely draw in the Commonwealth." The Grand Admiral nodded. He remembered the hour-long argument of how a Commonwealth Naval blockade could factor in to avoiding drawing the little Americas into a massive war with one another--it was decided that such a scenario would likely end in a disastrous war in the Caribbean. And rightly so, he thought.

"...However, the biggest news coming from the Americas is the stock collapse in Chicago. A surplus of steel has gutted prices, bringing the market to a tipping point. This surprising economic downturn is worth keeping note of, either as a precursor of further troubles to come--or as the herald of a ripple effect that is likely to damage markets in Europe, or elsewhere in America--either outcome undesirable, as it threatens the Commonwealth's own industrial export markets." The Admiral leaned forward in his seat, and cut in, "Excuse me, but did you say a steel glut? A god damn steel glut?"

The officer nodded, prompting a scoff from Jacob. "Half of Europe is ready to turn on itself, and the fodder for destruction has never been cheaper. This will not bode well for the global arms race." He leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. Never has a better opportunity arisen to build his fleet, yet his hands were tied... Or, were they? He sat forward. "There simply is no other way. The Commonwealth military requires this steel too much to allow such an opportunity to pass..."

TO: Honorable Representatives of the Großer Superior
FROM: Ministry of War of the Commonwealth of Great Britain and the Low Countries
SUBJECT: Strategic Steel Pact
ENCRYPTION: HIGH

NOTE: This is a top-secret communique from the Ministry of War. Recent activity occurring in a major stock market relating to a resource considered of strategic value to the Commonwealth Military requires further discussion, and thus the Ministry would request the Superior State to provide diplomatic delegates capable of authorizing action and-or discussion on measures relating to the trading of steel commodities in the American region to the City of Toronto to further discuss actions that may be taken.

by **Holoska** » Wed Oct 12, 2016 10:03 pm

by **Kazarogkai** » Wed Oct 12, 2016 10:31 pm

January 1891
The Latin Commonwealth of Georgia

Atlanta
The Office of the Minister of Finance

The Minister of Finance blessed that he is named Gaiuso Ames Robern was a hard working man devout towards god and country. Everyday he made his prayers for fortune and good health for himself and his family. Every when church was declared he would make his way over for mass. This was a more difficult thing to keep track in this land of Georgia owing towards its rather peculiar calendar situation whose nature diverged heavily from that seen in all other parts of the world outside certain parts of the old world.

Within the calendar made by The Guardian himself, blessed though he be, the most sweeping change was the creation of a 5 day week which in itself was half of that seen among the french and two less days that that of the old calendar. Though it had many convenient features like the fact that it fit rather evenly in a 365 day year into nice decimal free 73 weeks allowing for 6 per month, except in April the first month which had 7, it also came at a cost. For the more pious members of the nation it rendered counting Sunday, the Sabbath, a more difficult proposition whose main remedy came from the preachers themselves who were tasked by community to keep track of such things along with their normal duties.

Nevertheless despite some groans by the time for the current year it had become a matter of tradition one of those things you just did not let go of. It had been the way fo things since the time of Gaiuso's father and his father and his father and so on. Gaisuso would be damned to think about being the generation that had forsaken The Guardian's dream of utopia. And so they continued on with the practice along with all the other strange eccentrics that made The Guardian who he was.

In the beginning of this tale you know how I mentioned that Gaiuso was a hard working man? In some ways this statement is true; in others it is not. Ultimately being the man who handled the money of the state you would hope he would not but Gaiuso was the scheming sort who made ample use of his office to build his own personal network or patronage that was essential if one wished to be a big man like himself in the politics of the Commonwealth.

Just now one would be shown an example with Gaiuso calling upon his secretary giving a simple message asking the young man to retrieve 10k Georgia Drachmas or GD from the treasury. The young secretary named Batulla gave a simple bow and went unto his task. Upon leaving the office Batula would find himself before an intermediary who he would tell to get GD 25k and the man himself would then go on to a second intermediary and asked that he get GD 50k and finally this man would make his way over to the actual Treasury building and make a make a request for the teller to withdraw GD 100k. Upon asking this the Teller himself would go within the Halls of the treasury and pulled out GD 110k and pocketing about GD 10k and handing over the remaining GD 100k to the second intermediary. By the time the secretary Batulla returned to Gaiuso and handed over the 10k GD he along with the others had pocketed 90k GD for themselves and for further distribution.

Elections were coming up and Gaiuso needed to get his own little machine up and running. Such was the life of a Big Man. If you wanted to be on top you had to get your hands a little dirty. Through his office as mentioned before it was comparatively easy for him to go about such business. And though he was term limited it was still essential since he had duties to many and if he wanted to make sure his men, and women by the way, get into office this is what needed to be done.

With that business done Gaiuso went back to his assigned tasks filing and writing paperwork. On his desk stood a rather daunting stack that lay before him. Taking a nice sip of his morning tea he sighed and went on with his day.

by **Kerbodine** » Wed Oct 12, 2016 10:47 pm

February 17th, 1891, center of Lake Superior

SSS Muskellunge, contemporary photo, flying Superior flag c. 1891

As the ferry SSS ‘Muskellunge’ plowed through the narrow barely-frozen-over sea lanes of Lake Superior, mightiest of the lakes of the world, with the eventual target of Toronto, two men sized each other up. For the millionth time in the past two months, Dr. Winston J. Peabody, Chicago Minister of Finance, adjusted his spectacles. The man sitting his opposite, Hans Hollestat, adjusted his bow-tie in response. Hans Hollestat, the famous German-Superiorite economist and National Finance Minister, simultaneously managed to appear completely average yet still impressive, perhaps due to his rather heavy build. Dr. Peabody considered them equals, while Hollestat understood Peabody to be a trumped-up busybody with a love of power. There was, however, a mutual understanding that their current undertaking was extraordinarily important.
For the first time in years, the men were working together. Previously, they had essentially been rivals, with Peabody trying to divert as much infrastructure and business to Chicago with his 'connections', and Hollestat looking at a wider picture, mostly attempting to spread out what limited budget the Central Government had and thinking ahead as much as possible. However, they also had a mutual understanding that Peabody was at least in part responsible for the stock market dip, and that was a very dangerous piece of blackmail that Hollestat had over Peabody. They would be forced to work together, and Hollestat was on top in this hierarchy.
They would arrive in Toronto in about 3 days, weather permitting, and as financial experts they were more than aware of the positive economic impact that a large steel trade deal would have. This was not the first large steel deal either of them had been a part of- both had been in various other positions where such trades were a part of the job-, but this time, they were going to be met in Toronto by Lieutenant Paul von Caprivi. Though they were not yet privy to all of the exact details, they knew but two things:
1- The military was involved.
2- This involved a large steel deal with the Brits and Dutch.
They understood, at least, that this would set a massive precedent for future relations between the nations.

by **Holoska** » Thu Oct 13, 2016 12:01 am

The New Byzantine · by **The New Byzantine II** » Thu Oct 13, 2016 6:44 am

People's Socialist Republic of France
Socialiste République Populaire de France

Élysée Palace
Paris, Ile De France Region, France
7th of January, 1891 A.D.

Six days after the gathering, President Cluseret were looking at map of Europe, first looking at his beloved nation; France, then shifted his head towards Germany. The German people are hated in the French lands because of the Alsace-Lorraine and a French defeat in Franco-Prussian war. He hadn't still made a decision whether to retake the Alsace-Lorraine from the Germans or not. He then shifted his head towards Iberia, he viewed Iberia as an extreme imperialist and Iberia is either a hostile to France or not. He then shifted his head to the Netherlands and finally shifted his head to an North African nation called the "Grand Empire" of Maurania.

In Europe, most of the European nations were looking at France. It's because of the 'teachings of Marxism' and other rants from other European nation. They don't know that the Byzantine Empire could potentially invade Europe to retake its "historical" borders, that includes France. In this situation, President Cluseret had created a policy called 'Three Year Law' or 'Three-Year Draft'. Three-Year Draft is a military conscription where the men ages from 21 to 30 will have a three-year military service. President Cluseret then announced to the public about the 'Three-Year Draft'.

Greetings, fellow citizens of the French People's Socialist Republic, most of the European nations were looking at us right now because we might spread the teachings of Marxism and flexing our military might. Nations such as Iberia and Germany had a strong distrust on us. On the other hand, in the Near East, the so-called "Byzantine Empire" claims to retake its historical borders, that includes our glorious nation. Because of this intense situation in the European theatre, I am here to announce that I had created a policy called Three-Year Draft where men aged from 21 to 30 were obliged to join in the military service for three years. Failed to comply this policy will forced to join the military service otherwise they'll be considered as traitors of our glorious nation. This policy is created for an important reason.

Truly yours,
Gustave Cluseret, the Second President of the French People's Socialist Republic

After the announcement. President Cluseret sitted on his chair to rest until a messenger arrived to his office. "Hello, Mr. President." said the messenger.

"What can I do for you?" - President Cluseret

"A message to the Kingdom of Iberia, you might want to read this, Mister President, it is important." - the messenger. President Cluseret then grab the paper from the messenger and read. After reading it, President Cluseret laughs and put the paper on his desk and tells the messenger to dismiss. President Cluseret writes a response to the Kingdom of Iberia.

French National Red Guard Northeastern HQ
Reims, Champange-Ardenne Region, Northeastern France
9th of January, 1891 A.D.

Eight days after the gathering, the French military tasks were smooth. The city of Reims is just 143 kilometers to Paris and 394 kilometers to the German-occupied Alsace-Lorraine. The city was in a military recruitment after President Cluseret announced that there is a new policy called "Three-Year Law" where the men ages from 21 to 30 were obliged to have a three-year military service due to a possible threat against the Germans nor Iberians and after the President's announcement two days ago, there are thousands of French men from 21 to 30 were recruited to the French National Red Guard Northeastern Branch.

General Georges Boulanger, also known as General Revanche is the head of the French military, the Minister of War, and a politician. General Revanche was a popular figure to the French People's Socialist Republic along with President Cluseret, known for his feared and a skilled military strategist. General Revanche were looking at the new recruits, one of them are in the early twenties.

General Revanche said, "Welcome to the Northeastern HQ of the French National Red Guard. I am General Revanche, the head of the French military. Most of you know me because I'm one of the popular figures along with our glorious President Cluseret. You are all here to serve the nation. You are all here to fight for the nation. Our neighbors such as the Germans and the Iberians hated us because of the teachings of Karl Marx, calling it a disease. They are all wrong, Marxism isn't a disease but a success. We will prove to them that we aren't a disease but a united people of France." General Revanche continued, "You all will started to get trained by other military officials here tomorrow. Our nation doesn't accept cowards and weaks. We need strong men to fight in the future conflicts, you all understand?!"

All the new recruits shouts, "Sir, yes, sir!"

General Revanche was impressed at the new recruits and heads to the main HQ. On the other side of the HQ, there was a training yard, the French soldiers who were trained to use a rifle was taught. Aim to a target and pull the trigger. Other soldiers were taught to hand-to-hand combat an enemy. This was because of the possible threat of the Republic of Germania and the Kingdom of Iberia.

428 km to Marseille
Balearic Sea
10th of January, 1891 A.D.

About fifteen ironclad and twenty five coastguard ships were patrolling the Balearic Sea to increase the French navy presence in the west Mediterranean Sea. The one who led this patrol is Admiral Amédée Courbet who is looking at the western map of the Mediterranean Sea. He doesn't know that they are in the Iberian waters until a sailor reported.

"Sir, it appears that we are not in our waters anymore. We are in the Iberian waters, the Balearic Sea." the sailor said. Admiral Courbet just relucantantly nodded and headed outside. He smell the fresh air of the Balearic Sea, doing inhale and exhale. He then looked at the sea. The patrol was rather boring, they haven't seen any Iberian ships yet. All they do is to patrol and patrol and patrol until he saw an island. He grabbed his telescope and zoomed in onto the island. He then saw an Iberian flag waving, he zoomed out and put his telescope back to his pocket. Admiral Courbet was a bit impressed. He then tells to the sailors that to keep patrolling and see their presence to the Iberians.

Capitole de Toulouse
Toulouse, Midi Pyrénées Region, Southern France
11th of January, 1891 A.D.

The home of President Cluseret. Toulouse. Toulouse is a southern city of France; just 184 km to the Iberian border. After President Cluseret announced the new policy. There are also a mass recruitment in Toulouse, the same situation in Reims. A man named Acel Henriot; a French propagandist, was sent to Capitole de Toulouse for a task. The man and the governor met to discuss the plans of President Cluseret, about Iberia.

"So, Acel Henriot, I heard you are very influential which means you could influence other Iberians to understand that Marxism isn't a 'disease', is that right?"

Acel smirks, "Of course, sir, I could let the people of Iberia to turn against their King but also not just propagandists, we also need experienced spies going to the Iberian mainland. Northern Iberia will be the first target of Marxism propaganda and the spies would do their work to investigate the operations of Iberia."

The governor was likely impressed at this propagandist, he wasn't just an ordinary propagandist, he could influential people to believe in a Marxist philosophy. The governor has an idea came from Acel's statement. The governor would dismissed Acel to start his risky quest to Iberia. The governor had sent a request to President Cluseret to create an intelligence agency, it would be called Réseau français et de l'information du renseignement, (in English, French Network and Intelligence Information).

by **Garwall** » Thu Oct 13, 2016 1:15 pm

Port District of Toronto, Dominion of Canada
Commonwealth of Great Britain and the Low Countries
February 10th, 1891 -- Morning

The officers attempted to blend in to the crowd--as much as four men raised in high households up to very important doings among the bustle of morning Port District. Cargo was being shipped and received in staggering amounts, a testament to the industrial significance of the largest city in the Canadian Dominion. Leading the men was Rear Admiral David Somserset, flanked by a stiff-looking Joachim Tegethoff, a Colonel in the Commonwealth Army.
"I never cared much for this frozen rock," Joachim spat as he shivered in the winter chill, pulling his trench coat tightly. The Rear Admiral shook his head. "Clearly you have not spent much time here to appreciate its beauty."

Somerset was a Toronto native himself, and his dedication to his native Canada has allowed him to command a naval flotilla detachment for the Canadian's Atlantic defense. One of the more-firm voices across the Atlantic for re-armament, David had a vested interest in ensuring this meeting went smoothly. Garnering assurance on the part of Superior State for a favorable trade deal for steel could mean a hefty investment in to naval expansion--a desperately-needed bulwark for the Commonwealth's increasingly-stretched navy.

Their vigil was disturbed by the sound of chanting in the distance. The men drew their attention to the source of the distress--it was coming from deeper in the Port District, where the heart of Toronto's steel production lied. "What do you think all that carrying on is about?" David pondered. He took a few short steps in the sound of the disturbance. Joachim grimaced, and drew a cigarette from his pocket. "Shouting and chanting--this early on a work-day, no less. Only means one thing."

The sudden flash of a match briefly illuminated the pale morning haze. David swore under his breath. "It's a strike."

On the streets of Namur, Wallonian Republic
Commonwealth of Great Britain and the Low Countries
February 20th, 1891 -- Late Afternoon

The strikes were starting to wear the patience of the city thin. Red agitators, emboldened by the growing hawkishness of the French Commune, have extolled their working class brothers and sisters to take to the streets and voice their displeasure with the path the Commonwealth has taken them. Despite decades of relative ease controlling the course of political discourse, the Liberal-Social Democrat alliance has failed to bring the necessary social reform that the growing hardline Socialist and Communist Left has been pushing for.

As industrial rivals Germany and the American statelets begin to compete for Commonwealth industrial dominance, the price of various commodities began to tip. Price collapses and shortages began to creep in--and always the first to feel the penalty of austerity was the Wallonians. Mostly French-speaking, the Wallonian republic has long been the primary driving force of agitation in the Commonwealth. The Free Wallonia Party, occupying only 2% of the Commonwealth's overall seats in the Grand Senate, has been a voice for separatism that has driven the Socialists to near-open rebellion.

Similar strikes and rallies had occurred sporadically in recent weeks--several in London, one in Edinburgh, a significant shut-down of steel factories in Toronto earlier that month made headlines throughout the Americas--but many of them petered out once the collective peasantry had blown off enough steam. Only the Wallonians endured. French-speaking workers have been faced with little access to food beyond hard bread this past winter due to fluctuations in availability and commodity pricing. The Dutch-speaking Flanders state, however, has a food surplus.

While typical of the Socialists to hold strikes and sow discontent leading up to elections, there was not to be another round of nationwide elections until the Winter of 1892. This was considerably early for top-down agitation--this time, something was different. In Wallonia, there was genuine fear as workers rallied for weeks in Namur against the conditions facing some of the forgotten members of the Commonwealth--and where there is fear, anger and violence is rarely far behind.

by **Newne Carriebean7** » Thu Oct 13, 2016 7:42 pm

Republican unionist states of Texas and Oklahoma
Friendship and Labor conquer all things
Mojave Limited Locomotive
Merced,California
January 13th,1891

John Hondarez was awoken as the train came to a complete stop, almost at once the various passengers and the aides of the mayor left the train, while others loaded the luggage into carrying containers,still more tried to wake the man named Richard, who was still sleeping.
"he stayed up late last night, I would be in his same place if I had not withdrawn to my carriage,now then, if you'll need me,I'm off to meet with this Californian leader."
as the aide nodded and began to bicker over who would carry him out, the man arose and rushed to the bathroom, muttering something about poison.
"I am Richard, and I am ill!" the man muttered between shots of vomit from his mouth and the 'runs' from his butt.
as that display was being watched by some slacking and curiously bored out of their minds aides,Mayor of Huston John Hondarez appeared out of the train for the first time, stepping onto firm soil. he noticed the buildings were smaller than he expected for a big city. shrugging his arms, he wandered into a small room with a cross tacked onto the door.
"ah,brother, what seems to aile you."
"I-"
"say no more, you have the devil in you, prepare to have it cursed out!"
"what in th-"
Hondarez rushed out of there, being chased by a priest with a bucket of holy water and a knife.
"you shall be purified, my heavthenistic child of god!"
"get the hell away from you, you crazy nutjob!"
eventually, he lost the priest, feeling around in his pockets, he entered into a pub and threw a silver dollar on the counter.
"lemon juice, with lots of whiskey. it's been one hell of a day."

Austin, Republican Unionist state of Texas and Oklahoma.
Presidential Residence
January 10th,1891
President Samuel Julian Frost mused through the various infastructural and buisness tasks that were to take place, while he was thinking of the new naval plans that had been delivered to him, a brand new armored cruiser class named after roses being among the many plans the little kid like admirals wanted, he had given them free reign over ship design, and that made the little naval men feel like kids in a candystore. he then noticed something in the newspaper, an ad for Andrew Jackson Houston's electional campagin for the Texan Presidency. then it hit him, a month ago, he had ordered elections, and the first debate to take place at an old ampitheater that had closed down some 15 years ago, tonight. as he smacked his head in frustration, he called for his aide on a bell that sat next to his table. *ring* almost at once a young man in a suit entered the room.
"you wanted to see me sir?"
"yes, I'm putting you in charge of my relection campagin,the party has already nominated me for re-election for another four years,dear god! another four years at this meaningless job means I would not live past my fifties!"
"are you saying you're not interested?"
"potentialy,although I have caught a cold recently,and I'm afraid it's serious, the doctors guess I have at most a year or two left on this earth."
"that's-heartbreaking to hear, now then, the naval invasion of Louisiana is going well, should we send in more troops?"
"yes, send 3,000 more men to assist the idiots in Arkans-er I mean Louisana. now how are the cannon foundries doing?"
"a pair of twenty four pounder cannons and another pair of 48 pound mortars are being made every two weeks sir,we'll have enough to equip a regiment by April!"
"of next year or this year?"
the men shared a laugh as the aide walked off to conduct other buisness.

Mississippi River,Louisianan swamp like area
January 10th,1891
second Texan River squadron of the Echelon and the Youthful
captain Farris peered through the binouclars as the heavy 32 pounder cannonballs were fed into the six breech loaded rifles that flanked each side of the ship, the paddle wheels lazily moving the ship at a reduced five to six knots total. as the helmsmen approached him, Farris looked a bit shocked at the fact.
"captain, we are almost twoards the fortress,what are your orders?"
"have the fleet come alongside the big gunned wall of death,and beat to quarters."
"yes sir."
as the crew rushed about, getting the below deck array of four cannons prepared, the breeches being opened, the powder and shot being carelessly tossed in and the heavy artillery's muzzles being pointed at the old Spanish mission.
"on my command, open fire."
"Yes sir."
as the two ships neared the forts, he decided to turn one of the vessels.
"signal the Echelon to hard to starboard,we'll go port and we will force the Louisianans to divide their firepower on us."
"aye captain."
as the signal flags were raised and the Echelon turned away from the Youthful, horns and gongs were heard throughout the old Spanish the fort as their defenders arose to find out two ships were attacking. the old La Juagantemous Mission had seven total old Spanish 24 pound artillery pieces dating back to the 17th century. the guns on both sides were aimed as the crews prepared for the upcoming assault and defense. the ill mannered captain on the Echelon could not take it any more, and so gave the order to fire. one by one, the smell of smoke filled the scene, as the Echelon's cannon crews opened up at random, and in no orderly fashion. the Louisianans replied in kind with the same inaccurate fire, only managing to scrape some paint off and damage the rear captain's quartered area of the ship,blowing a hole through the window and out the other side. Farris cursed.
"damn those Echelon serving ill behaved rats! get this ship to come about in the other direction!"
"Yes sir!"
as the ships wheel turned, the gunners onboard let loose a volley of accurate cannon fire, blowing open three holes in the wall, and knocking an old Spanish gun clean off it's emplacement. the ships had gotten so close the fortress that smaller firearms were used,the Texan rifles and long pieces let up a display of musket shot and rifled grooved balls that whistled in the air like a deadly symphony of lead and steel.
the Spanish guns replied with a hail of musket and matchlock fire, missing much of the ship, but blowing a man's neck that was standing next to farris clean off, the young seaman as he was carried below decks to get treatment screamed for his mother.
"war is hell, I think someone said that before."
"don't know who,now what are we to do about those forts?"
"there's only one thing to do,lieutenant, prepare the boats at once, and have a flock of men, say twenty odd souls come with me! for Texas!"
the men cheered as the boat was prepared for the landing attempt.

by **Holoska** » Thu Oct 13, 2016 8:41 pm

by **Esselman** » Thu Oct 13, 2016 9:17 pm

13^th January, 1891
The Winter Palace, Saint Petersburg

The Tsar had received the messages from foreign leaders interested in mighty Russia and her future prosperity, Russia was becoming stronger than ever as the poor were politically active and engaging in change while the aristocrats and the Tsar kept to themselves creating an uneasy yet sustained peace. With the ratification of the Fundamental Laws, the Tsar still held the most important power of the declaration of war and signing of peace treaties while the Imperial Duma made most policy. In the presence of Chairman Lenin the letters would be penned as the Tsar was more focused on his upcoming wedding.

The letters were written for him as the Tsar sat in the Small Throne Room, the columns of jasper impressing even the wealthiest of Russian aristocrats, and dictated what was to be said.

by **Newne Carriebean7** » Thu Oct 13, 2016 9:32 pm

Republican unionist states of Texas and Oklahoma
Friendship and Labor conquer all things
Mojave Limited Locomotive
Sacramento,California
January 13th,1891

John Hondarez was awoken as the train came to a complete stop, almost at once the various passangers and the aides of the mayor left the train, while others loaded the luggage into carrying containers,still more tried to wake the man named richard, who was still sleeping.
"he stayed up late last night, I would be in his same place if I had not withdrawn to my carridge,now then, if you'll need me,I'm off to meet with this californian leader."
as the aide nodded and began to bicker over who would carry him out, the man arose and rushed to the bathroom, muttering something about poison.
"I am richard, and I am ill!" the man muttered between shots of vomit from his mouth and the 'runs' from his butt.
as that display was being watched by some slacking and curiously bored out of their minds aides,Mayor of Huston John Hondarez appeared out of the train for the first time, stepping onto firm soil. he noticed the buildings were smaller than he expected for a big city. shrugging his arms, he wandered into a small room with a cross tacked onto the door.
"ah,brother, what seems to aile you."
"I-"
"say no more, you have the devil in you, prepare to have it cursed out!"
"what in th-"
Hondarez rushed out of there, being chased by a priest with a bucket of holy water and a knife.
"you shall be purified, my heavthenistic child of god!"
"get the hell away from you, you crazy nutjob!"
eventually, he lost the preist, feeling around in his pockets, he entered into a pub and threw a silver dollar on the counter.
"lemon juice, with lots of whiskey. it's been one hell of a day."
the man behind the counter merely sneered,inspected the coin and tossed it in the register. a few minutes laer, as Hondarez was all drunkenly sobered up on lemons and whiskey, he walked off to meet the mayor.
with that little beverage drunk, he walked into the californian Presidental building, and was stopped a few feet by some gaurds.
"who are you? we can't just let strangers into here."
"I am the Mayor of Huston Texas, of the Texan Union, I was sent here by President Frost to meet with your president. I'd be more worried about my nutty aide richard, so keep an eye on him, I promised him I'd bring him along."
Richard peeked from behind the president's suitcase and waved a disarming smile at the gaurds, who talked amongst themselves for a minute.
"we'll be keeping an eye on this richard fellow, come inside."
the gaurds held the door open for the texan mayor and the aides as they entered the building. Hondarez gave a curt nod in appreciation for the californain gaurds.
"not so friendly as it is in the south, huh?"he muttered under his breath.

Austin, Republican Unionist state of Texas and Oklahoma.
Presidential Residence
January 10th,1891
President Samuel Julian Frost mused through the various infrastructural and business tasks that were to take place, while he was thinking of the new naval plans that had been delivered to him, a brand new armored cruiser class named after roses being among the many plans the little kid like admirals wanted, he had given them free reign over ship design, and that made the little naval men feel like kids in a candy-store. he then noticed something in the newspaper, an ad for Andrew Jackson Houston's election campaign for the Texan Presidency. then it hit him, a month ago, he had ordered elections, and the first debate to take place at an old amphitheater that had closed down some 15 years ago, tonight. as he smacked his head in frustration, he called for his aide on a bell that sat next to his table. *ring* almost at once a young man in a suit entered the room.
"you wanted to see me sir?"
"yes, I'm putting you in charge of my reelection campaign,the party has already nominated me for re-election for another four years,dear god! another four years at this meaningless job means I would not live past my fifties!"
"are you saying you're not interested?"
"potentially,although I have caught a cold recently,and I'm afraid it's serious, the doctors guess I have at most a year or two left on this earth."
"that's-heartbreaking to hear, now then, the naval invasion of Louisiana is going well, should we send in more troops?"
"yes, send 3,000 more men to assist the idiots in Arkans-er I mean Louisiana. now how are the cannon foundries doing?"
"a pair of twenty four pounder cannons and another pair of 48 pound mortars are being made every two weeks sir,we'll have enough to equip a regiment by April!"
"of next year or this year?"
the men shared a laugh as the aide walked off to conduct other business.

Mississippi River,Louisianan swamp like area
January 10th,1891
second Texan River squadron of the Echelon and the Youthful
captain Farris felt the cool spray of the ocean water as the men grunted with their strength, the two boats filled with forty soldiers total moving slowly through the waves. the Louisianans were not oblivious to this fact however, and multiple southern rounds found their marks in the bodies of a dozen Texan seamen and marines that were returning fire. when the soldiers finally reached the small dock that extended outwards, Farris was the first one off, grabbing his sword and pointing it at the fort, he screamed.
"let's go smack some louis!"
the men cheering behind him amid a hail of gunfire, the two parties of men met up near the outer wall, which was ablaze from the fleet.
"do you want to go first?"
"please,we're gentlemen, last one to kill a Louie is a rotten egg!"
the men laughed as the Louisianians fell back into the inner fortress, closing off the doors to the facility and bristling the small slits with their rifles and muskets,which let loose a deadly,if prolonged to fire again, volley. as he cocked his pistol, two shot released from the gun, befalling two Louisianan sword smiths with hammers in their hands.

by **Kerbodine** » Thu Oct 13, 2016 10:19 pm

(Superiorite post)

Evening of February 20th, Dominion of Canada, Toronto 'Great Northern Shipping Company' Docks

The Superior Steam-Ship 'Muskellunge', named after the mightiest of the Pike family, had finally landed at her final destination exactly on schedule. Famous for both being one of the newest and fastest passenger ferries to transit the entire Great Lakes, she would stay in port for another 2 days to refuel and take on new passengers before sailing to Toledo and Chicago. Two particular passengers getting off, Dr. Winston Peabody and Herr Hans Hollestat, both relatively well known figures within their respective spheres in Greater Superior, felt a slight burden lift off their shoulders; here in Canada, they were practically anonymous.
Hollestat looked down at a slip of paper he had pulled out of his coat's breast pocket, and, in a (purposely) heavy German accent, read off: "Meet with Lieutenant Paul von Caprivi at the Toronto 'Hotel Lakeview'; he will be in the restaurant/club 2100-2300 on February 19th, 20th, and 21st; his room is 201 most other hours. If this plan results in failure, contact Minister of Foreign Affairs via known secure methods for alternative plans. Your meeting with your Commonwealth counterparts is scheduled for early February 22nd, please be prepared. Always 'Forward', gentlemen." It was signed by Wilhelm von Fugueman, Head Chairman of the Magisterial Council, and dated February 16th, the day they had left Hansestadt.
[...] Toronto 'Hotel Lakeview' [...]
On their coach ride to the hotel, they viewed lakeside Toronto; generally, it appeared about the same as a Superiorite city after a light snow storm, albeit with a heavier Irish influence and a clearly somewhat dirty, underdeveloped feeling on some of the smaller streets. Dr. Peabody chuckled a little to himself; he had heard from his Canadian cousin that, due to its history, the city was still known to some of the cruder and more historically aware in the region as 'Dirty Little York'. After having loaded onto the coach, ridden to the Hotel, and (fairly generously) tipped the driver (he had seem surprised), they stood in the snow with their trunks, mildly unsure as to what to do next. The street seemed abandoned; it was rather cold out. The front of the hotel, three stories tall and in a pseudo-Tudor style, had a tiny porch and a comparatively massive front door. Nobody had scraped the walkway clear recently. Dr. Peabody was the first to move, awkwardly dragging his trunk towards the building in a manner clearly demonstrating he had never so much as tried to do manual labor in his life. Hollestat sighed, grunted, and picked up his (nearly 200 pound) chest. Little did these naive Superiorites, used to the generous and over-polite high end hotel business in the ex-US, know that here in Canada, even at nicer hotels you had to ask for a bellhop. Finally getting to the door, panting, Peabody opened the door. Inside was a relatively nice lobby, with a bored-looking man in a vest sitting behind a desk. Getting two rooms (and finally having help from a bellboy moving in, as they would probably be in Toronto for at least a week, perhaps longer- negotiations of this sort can take a long time), they eventually settled in.
Finding the Lieutenant, a grizzled and seemingly always-angry Junker with an impressive mustache and tremendous alcohol tolerance, after some discussion, they were finally ready for the meeting on the 22nd.

Morning of February 22nd, Toronto Port District

Lieutenant von Caprivi seemed to know where the meeting was- the other two didn't-, and it was apparently fairly close. Walking through the streets, ignoring the working-class floods of people hiking to their jobs at the dockyards and factories (Toronto, recently called the 'Chicago of the Dominion of Canada' in the Toledo Times, was fairly large, with a population of over 200,000 and a large industrial base for Canada), the triplet of Superiorite government officials had little security but their anonymity with them. Turning a corner, a man in a torn coat and battered derby hat somehow elevated above the crowd immediately pointed at them. "...like these here upper-class bourgeois!" He said it something like "Boar-gah-zee", and it took Peabody a moment to recognize that this man, apparently literally on a soapbox, was a revolutionary of sorts. "We're too well dressed," were the thoughts in all three men's heads. The man continued as the Superiorites skirted around his small crowd of listeners, shouting directly at them now. "These are the men we have to take out of power! These are the men keeping us down! Our politicians are supporting these capitalist, capitalist SCUM that oppress the working man! Rise up, my friends! Together, we can DESTROY these parasites!" A few of the crowd, dismissing the speaker as insane or too extreme, shook their heads and walked off. The rest of the crowd, previously quiet, began to stir. There really weren't too many, perhaps 20, but they looked angry. Von Caprivi, just to assure himself, patted the lump in his frock coat of his service revolver, and Hollestat gripped his walking stick just a bit tighter.
The Superiorites walked a little faster and soon turned another corner to a quieter street, as several policeman began shouting back at the 'speaker', and they quickly entered the two-story "TORONTO POSTAL STATION #012". Shown upstairs by an armed Commonwealth infantryman in full dress uniform- there were several such soldiers standing guard inside-, they quickly realized this building was but a front for a government covert meeting space. Entering a large meeting room through gilded double doors, they quickly took in what appeared to be a mahogany-clad room, centered with a massive oval table with half a dozen very powerful looking men sitting around it. A quiet but commanding voice deeper than the deepest sunken abyss of Lake Superior began the meeting: "Please, enter, gentlemen."

by **Kazarogkai** » Thu Oct 13, 2016 10:53 pm

January 1891
The Latin Commonwealth of Georgia

Atlanta
The Office of the Minister of Diplomacy

Minister Kaeso Jamond Reder was a busy man who took his job rather seriously. Despite this the man always had time for his family. When he woke up in the morning he always had a nice hearty breakfast of eggs, grits, raisin bread, and a cup of Georgia Tea* just waiting for him made by his dear momma. Since he was born she always rose before the rest of the house to do the various domestic tasks necessary for domestic tranquility. Being that he was a man he never moved out of the house of his birth. Nay he stayed even when he and his brother Damono had decided to stay as one and make their own family block they stayed in the place of their youth. His Brother was the first to add onto the Block fetching as a unit a pair of pretty brown eyed, raven haired lasses, fair of skin lasses by the name of Piona and Mabia. After a bit later Kaeso himself added on with a red headed freckle bound lass by the name of Malla. As is custom Kaeso and his brother Damono as a block shared their three wives in common never the less they typically practiced a state of serial Monogamy of sorts with Damono with his brunettes and Kaeso with his Redhead. Despite this many a night Mabia, the younger of the two, would quietly stay the night in Kaeso's bed.

This rather strange tradition of group marriage not found much outside the lands of Georgia and some "savage" tribes in non-European parts of the world had it's start roughly in the revolutionary era of the Guardian's Reign. The general narrative is that he himself started the tradition taking on a total of 3 partners who later on became his wives in the post independence era. A good portion of it was honestly political his wife's collectively represented the unity of the people of Georgia with one being European, another African, and the final Indian. This along with many others facets of Georgia culture which foreigners when they visit find quite strange.

When the breakfast was finished and Kaeso said his goodbyes and set off to work he would when he left the house kiss his mother who he usually found resting on the porch. The father of her sons had long since passed away, he served in the military and was killed fighting native rebels in florida, still she atleast had her children to keep her company so she was content enough. Plus she had a 5 adorable grandkids too so that was nice.

Paperwork and a cup of Georgia Tea was usually the thing that greeted Kaeso first when he arrived and today was no exception. He gave a sigh as usual muttering under his breath the normal words of a tired worker and sat himself down at his desk. He blew and took a nice sip from his cup while rifling through his work. He gave a brief scan to everything placing the most important things and the least important things in separate piles. When he finally went to tackling his work he started on the less important but quickly dealt with stuff first hoping to get it out of the way. When that was done he moved on to the more important stuff. The main things that popped out to him as he went through were the two communiques from Georgia's neighbors the disparate states of the former USA: New England and Texas. Owing to Georgia's relative isolation and historical southern focus towards Latin america their relations with the former statelets was lacking to say the least. When the USA was collapsing in on itself Georgia mostly stood by and watched occasionally selling some of their surplus arms to the various factions for a quick buck and to add coal unto the proverbial fire. The USA had long been the greatest threat and rival of Georgia since the very beginning always coveting their prime lands. Though one would think they would learn their lesson after their solid ass kicking during the 1810-1815 Border War they would learn to back off, and to be fair they mostly did, still they remained like a snarling dog always seemingly waiting to pounce. The constant drain of slaves into Georgia and occasional attempted infiltration from land hungry settlers didn't really help. Thankfully when the Mexican war began it let off a nice bit of the pressure with the Americans taking their hunger for land out on them. When civil war came upon the land one can only imagine the collective sigh of relief the Georgians had. The only backlash they felt in any way was a small stream of refugees who came trying to escape the fighting who for their troubles ended up getting gunned down by Georgian border units. To this day much of the land to their north lies in a sort of grey area in constant state of conflict with marauding warlords and the like making their way along trying to pick up the pieces.

Kaeso picked up the two communiques and read them rather slowly. The first derived from the Yankees(New England) and pertained mostly to trade. It was rather straightforward speaking of a desire to improve ties and spoke of their hunger for Cotton. That was all fine and good he guessed but the cotton portion was a little problematic. Owing to a lack of private land ownership and a restriction on its accumulation in general, along with other reasons, this had long since prevented the creation of proper plantation agriculture and in general had set georgia on a path more similar to that of a more northerly land with a focus on manufacturing and things like mining. Only with the intervention of the state with the creation of state industries(farms, factories, and mines) was this rectified to a degree. Even then said "plantations" were more likely to produce linen and tea rather than cotton owing to the former two's importance to the military. Even with this rather blasphemous thing these Yankees called "free trade" not much could be hoped for in that regard. He chuckled and simply threw it in the waste bin. Something of little use to them.

The Second communique was a little more interesting and relevant. Coming from the Cowboys(Texans) that lied to their west it spoke of rather troubling things namely the fact that soon enough they would be close neighbors with the Cowboys desiring to take control of the land of Louisiana. In consolation they offered the prize of Arkansas but that was of no interest or use to Georgia. This was troubling news and needed to be dealt with. The Cowboys were a slavery driven people not much different from their predecessors which in itself was anathema to the Georgians who from the very beginning and into the present was not an institution the Georgians took part in and personally saw morally repugnant.

Hence despite the fact that they began with none they in this day and age harbored a large population of people of african descent, mostly living in the west, who had come to their lands for refuge. Unlike the treacherous and conniving american settlers who sought only to do unto them what was done to the natives and steal their lands right under from them these people harbored no malice towards them nor loyalty towards their former masters. As such when independence was achieved Solomon made the wise decision to ally with these people and make use of them for are own purposes; Namely defending the western borders from incursions, a task they excelled in. During the Border War Georgia made ample use of this fact to great effect when during the invasion they raised up a mass phalanx of these slaves to their cause in the order of a magnitude of tens of thousands. Outside the occupied coastal regions into the interior lands they continued to fund and arm large numbers of maroons who chose to stay and continue to fight as a way putting their opponent off balance. When the war reached its conclusion Georgia promised as per the the Treaty of New Orleans to end this specific practice and with time the Americans were able to restore order, though not at great cost and with a scarring that would remain with them. Whenever a slave rebellion occurred it was customary to blame it on the Georgians.

Nevertheless despite the treaty when the USA began it's descent into chaos and madness the Georgians made the decision to no longer abide by said provision. The Georgians since the time of the war of American dissolution to the present day maintains a policy of active arming and funding of militant abolitionist groups some of which are active in Texas leading to recurring tensions between the two nations which refuse to abate. So when the Cowboys come out and tell them they are planning on snugging up right next to them, Kaeso that it is best to regard this as a threat. Calling upon his secretary Kaeso tells him to make contact with the Minister of War Alerviu Anthol Ancin and tell him it is urgent.

Atlanta
The Office of the Minister of War

Minister Alerviu Anthol Ancin was taking a small nap after a rather long night of near constant work. Through said night he had to stay awake dealing with near constant calls via post riders, carrier pigeons, and even optical Optical telegraphs. A small border skirmish between local units and Georgian forces along the Savannah river, a few riots carried out here and there by agitators, and a rather long talk with the Minister of Security over information about active rebel units.

So tiring, no wonder the man needed some sleep. Still there is no rest for the wicked and so when Alerviu's door was knocked upon he simply awoke from his nap and groaned. Such was life. Opening he was greeted by a post runner who delivered him a message from the Minister of Diplomacy himself. The contents were both the recent communique from the Cowboys but also a rather urgent letter from said man warning him of the rather dangerous situation they were in. This wasn't good and required drastic action. He mulled over whether or not to this needed the mobilization of the reserves. He had heard reports of Texan forces active in the area but had mostly thought they were involved in slave catching or the like, but this Comminique confirmed something even darker. Deciding to think it over with later consultation of other members of the Committee of War he sent an urgent letter calling for a show of force on the border. Calling in one his Generals named Ilos who he had on standby he gave him rather simple orders authorizing him to raise a corps of 3 Legions, a total of 4320 soldiers and 10680 support troops, from the First Line. Their mission was to deploy along the western border, but not cross the Mississippi. This was meant as a show of force to give The Georgians time so that they could have some breathing space to think. General Ilos gave a salute to his boss and made his way out. When he had left Minister Alerviu simply sighed in his chair knowing that this was going to be a very long day.

Georgia Tea: Made from black or green tea with lemon juice and honey. Typically served Warm in the mornings and night and cold the rest of the day. The Average Georgian drinks about 8 cups of tea a day. The lemon juice historically came about as a way of preventing scurvy.

by **Republic Of Varra** » Thu Oct 13, 2016 11:00 pm

THE REPUBLIC OF GERMANIA

January 16, 1891
"So, as you can see, the government can profit especially well from these designs, especially in these times of great tensions between nations. If you look here my-"

"Zeppelin, we accept your offer. These designs will be immediately worked upon. We expect you to help us as the process goes along, but these will surely help us in times of need, in future conflicts. Especially now, with the rising tensions in France and the Byzantine Empire."

Zeppelin stood with a stoic face, but inside he was yelping for joy. "Thank you for this opportunity. We shall begin work on this project next week, on Monday, 9:00 AM."

The minister stood there stroking his beard thoughtfully. "You will soon have many more people joining your airship design fleet. I can assure you. But not all of them will be working on these flying fortresses like you."

"How so?"

"Let's just say there are other types of air machines that we are looking into, and hope to add on to this groundbreaking project of yours."

"Thank you for this wondrous opportunity sir. I shall not let you down."

Kyoto, Japan January 18, 1891

A young man was walking home from work as usual. He did not enjoy his work, for he pursued for more in life than just working in a factory. But many of his ideas were rejected, and he accepted his role in life. However, this afternoon as he was walking to his home, he stepped in something as he walked to his dwelling.

Crunch

Hm? A piece of... what is this? He thought to himself, picking up the large piece of paper beneath his foot. It was rather crinkled, so he decided it was best to open it when he got home.

30 minutes later...

He flattened the paper out on a wooden table, and put on his reading spectacles. It was not just a random piece of parchment, but it was a poster of some sort. Curious, he began to read the document.

A SPECIAL NOTICE FROM THE GERMAN GOVERNMENT: WE NEED YOUR HELP.

With the ever growing technological advancements and increasing pace in which new machines are being invented, the German government has placed a special offer for those willing to be of service.

With the advent of balloons, man has been able to fly. But not efficiently. This is where we come to you, inventors of the world. A message that goes out throughout nations. We need bright minds to help shape the world. We are now entering the 20th century. No doubt, a century to change the course of human events. And with this, we must change too.

For you to be accepted, you must make a design of your flight device, and mail it to: (Address. Just imagine a certain government mailing address is here). Then, if you are accepted, we will provide a completely paid trip to Germany. There you will test your flight machines, or work with other testing flight vessels. Perhaps one of you will become the new figure to shape the world from here on out.

Thank you for your consideration, and time. We hope to work with you further.

The man already had a pen in hand, working hard on what he considered his ticket out, and chance to a better life.

OOC: The poster is sent all over the world in different languages and formats. So people from around the world will try to become involved. I did this, for I would like to start "The race for the skies." Kind of like the space race, but with airplanes instead.

by **Holoska** » Fri Oct 14, 2016 12:01 am

by **Uragarr** » Fri Oct 14, 2016 12:37 am

The Grand Empire of Maurania

January 15th 1891, The Grand Parliament, St Larlus

"Until this government embraces the ideology of freedom and equality the people of Maurania will languish in tyranny and oppression!" Botro al-Rashdi, chairman of the Leftist and Socialist Coalition of Maurania (LSCM), shouted across the parliament floor, drawing calls of disapproval from across the room. The LCSM was not a powerful party but it certainly was vocal.

"Would the honourable member please take his seat!" The Speaker gestured angrily at Botro. This prompted the other LCSM members to stand up and begin shouting as well, their cries ringing through the chamber. Growing discontent was brewing among Liberals and Traditionalists alike at the sight of this display. After a final warning the speaker waved a hand to the guards around the room who closed in around the socialists. They continued to chant and yell as they were escorted out.

"Order!" The speaker yelled. Once the house had quieted the speaker raised his voice again. "We were engaging in debate surrounding a resolution to institute a tax on the ownership of land."

Members from across the floor raised their hands to speak, the leader of the opposition, Takar al-Mukdi was chosen.

"Mr Speaker, honourable members, the resolution which is subject to discussion today is an attack on the very institutions which have seen this nation proper. Is it not the nobility who protect and uphold the state?" This is the very policy that these socialists would cherish! They who would work to attack the systems of governance which have made the Grand Empire of Maurania so great! My party pledges that from this day forth we will commit all our efforts to combating these rabble-rousers!"

"Point of order!" The Grand Minister yelled from across the floor. "The honourable member seems to be attacking the socialists rather than the resolution!"

"Sustained." The speaker gestured from al-Mukdi to sit down before pointing to a Social Democrat, who stood to speak for the resolution. Grand Minister Ali Ibn Rashad glanced at Takar, who seemed pleased with the conflict he was stirring up.

The Imperial Palace

"It is not something to be taken lightly sir!" High Admiral Nakta boomed across the council chamber. "We are getting reports of a large increase in the presence of French warships across the Western Mediterranean."

"Have they strayed into our territorial waters?" The Emperor Eumenes Bassad II turned to the Admiral.

"Not in any major capacity Your Highness, but they steer rather close to the territory of the Iberians."

The Emperor leaned back in his chair. "Well, if we are to get involved in world affairs this seems like a suitable place to start. But there is no cause for military action and I would not advise it even if there was, we must begin by assessing the situation diplomatically."

"My thanks for responding to the situation Your Highness."

The Emperor called across the room to his personal secretary and began dictating messages to the Kingdom of Iberia and the People's Socialist Republic of France.

To esteemed President Gustave Clauseret of the People's Socialist Republic of France

I do not intend to create a diplomatic incident, nor do I seek any conflict between our great nations. The people of the Grand Empire of Maurania and France have not had much contact in the past, there is no need for violence while a friendship between them can prosper. But I must write to inquire as to the increased French naval presence in the Western Mediterranean. My Chief Admiral informs me that French warships have been sighted in these waters. This may be a training exercise or an incident involving France and the Iberians, but I must inform you that by entering these waters you are straying into a region of the world in which the people of Maurania have a lot invested. If you seek to send military forces into a region, then it is a courtesy to consult the nations of this region. As Maurania is a Mediterranean state it is in our interests to be told before you move warships into this area.

I wish to avoid conflict and I would hope that you do as well, so please inform me of the purpose of these ships.

May both our nations prosper,

Emperor Eumenes Bassad II of the Grand Empire of Maurania.

To King Alfonso XII of The Most Royal Iberian Kingdom

Greetings, as neighbours in the Western Mediterranean it is our duty to protect the safety and sovereignty of the region. I do not want to see this to escalate into violence. The increased presence of the French in the Western Mediterranean is a concern for my government and must be one for yours as well. This message is not one to express that I have taken a side in any European conflict which has emerged. It is a request for you to inform me of your side of whatever conflict exists between your nation and France.

But I will inform you of this, if conflict does arise, Maurania stands for peace and stability in the region, and will fight to continue this peace against aggressors, French or otherwise. There is also a rather vocal socialist party present in my government, which I do not want to be inspired to revolt by a large foreign socialist power.

May both our nations prosper,

Emperor Eumenes Bassad II of the Grand Empire of Maurania

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

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