The Great Colonial Race [PT, IC, OPEN]

[Syike]

Rule list:
1. I am thread God
2. Year(s) is 1840-1860
3. Shit posts are a no
4. One liners are a no. A paragraph minimum is expected with some exceptions
5. Do not violate the English language
6. Do not god mod
7. Do not number wank, I'll be damned to hell and back if you can throw thousands of troops into a far flung island in a matter of days/weeks (you can't).
8. Do not claim ungodly chunks of the island. The only way to horde swathes of land is by conquest.
9. Rule list is subject to change at any moment in time.

OOC thread

The row of boats steadily floated across the sea, sails and jacks waving with the wind. The weather was calm after several weeks of sailing, much to the delight of the colonists. The head of the expedition, Napoléon Rousseau, sat in his cabin in the boat that led all the others across the oceans. He studied the softly waving waters from the safety of the dirty windows on the rear wall of his cabin. He quit his pondering, and rushed over to the desk in his small room. He unveiled a small book and produced a feather and bottle of ink. He dipped the point into the black container, and pressed the wet point of the feather against the paper of his book, and began writing.

"August 15,

It has been a long journey. Many of the colonists that boarded the boat back at home aren't with us anymore, as disease and accidents have dropped our numbers significantly. Regardless, we have managed to press forward with good enough numbers. Many of the soldiery that I requested remains. Most of the civilian colonists that volunteered to explore are trained in the arts of musketry in varying degrees. We will be able to hold our own against corsairs and native islanders, should the misfortune ever fall upon us. The previous days have been kind to us, however. The weather has been gradually getting warmer, and the storms and rocking waves subsided. Surely this is a sign that we have reached a warmer and more sunny area, such is the climate that was described to us of the island we are searching for by the company that sponsored us. Many sailors wager that we are quite near, and will be ready to claim land within the next few days. I hope what they say is true, for many colonists have been befallen with both home sickness and physical ills. A mutiny may be in line, assuming we go for a longer period of time without discovery of something to settle. I wish for the same, as I hope to return to my homeland after this colony has been established. I dearly miss my wife, and my eldest son is beckoned by the Royal Army to enlist among our warriors. Should he follow that road, I hope that my bastard son will at least be sensible and join a militia. Too many of my family have died from vile malaise, and it would wrack my heart if one of my sons dies on the field of battle. At the least, it would be an honourable death. My-"

Napoléon was interrupted from his journal writing by the repeated shouting of "Land, ho!" by the sailors on the upper deck of his boat. He put on his coat and rested a bicorne atop his head, and rushed up to see what the ruckus was all about. He was stunned when he stepped towards the stern, and could make out the image of a coast. He took a monocular magnification device to get a better view. He saw a very large, tropical island. Surely it would grow the finest spices and sugars to enrich Syike. After a few more hours of sailing, they stopped from the coast. The sailors, colonists and soldiers unloaded their cargo and bodies to the beach, and stared in awe. They would go on to found the Confederation of New Syike, where they would hopefully live in peace in their new homeland. A small boat was sent out to many islands and overseas trading posts belonging to other nations about the discovery. Many messengers ran their mouths, telling about the magnificent size of the island, and that it was too big for even Syike to colonize. This beckoned for other nations to get their piece of the rich, fertile island known as Havre de Rois, the island that could easily fill the coffers of any king or president.

Make a post inserting your colonists to your claimed land. In that same post, take the map and mark your new possessions so that others may be aware of your claim.

[Tryienne]

Waters around Havre De Rois,
August 5th, 1845 Tryiennian Date.

As a a massive fleet of battleships and East Indiaman are crossing the waters, they are nearing towards an island the Tryiennian Empire is most interested in.

The Tryiennian Empire has been a major player on the stage of the world a long time, and today is the day that Tryienne has joined the world of colonialism. As the ships are nearing the island, a cry rises from the crows nest. 'Land Ho!' The expedition's leader, Pieters Vanokouvovitch, prepares the people and soldiers on board for embarkment.

After the sloops have hit the waters and are rowing towards the island, Pieters writes in his logbook,

August 15th, Dear Diary,

Today is a great day in the history of the Empire. Today we, as a nation, are one of the first who decided to join in the game of colonization. As my expertise and experience might tell, it's quite obvious that they had chosen me to lead the expedition and further colonization. As the cartographers has said, the land is rich with minerals and sugars and spices the Empire desperately needs. We will be planning to start up a colony and work the land soon. We would be-

His writing was cut short when he felt a 'bonk', meaning that the sloops had hit land.

He climbed out of his sloop, and told the people to start the construction of a few houses for the night.

While they were building, he quickly put a flagpole in the ground and hung the Tryiennian flag high in the sky. 'We hereby claim this land in name of the Tryiennian Empire!' He said next. The soldiers and colonists replied in massive huzzahs and hurrahs.

[Syike]

August 17th

Mere hours after the first landing, the colonists were already curious as to what lay behind the trees that bordered their sandy colony from the woods that stood at the center of Havre de Rois. Jacques Courtier and his posse of explorers were tasked to chart the land. On the first night since the landing, Jacques took a group of 9 men with him, each armed with a smoothbore musket or long hunting rifle, food, water, and equipment for preparing food and building camp, set off to explore the rich woods of the island. For two days, Jacques and his group navigated the woods. They had yet to reach any coastlines, which worried them that they had colonized a mainland. This worry would be overcome by a temporary fright when they beheld a large, foreign flag flying high above the trees. Jacques was quick to write this down on his notebook, as this was peculiar news: someone else is already here, and they appear to be on the other side of the island. Jacques finished writing, and halted his group a good several paces away from a treeline where they could safely observe this foreign settlement. Lacking in any magnification device, he squinted to make out the image of the outlanders on the coast. He looked at his men, each of them lying low in the underbrush. "We need to get closer, I can hardly see a thing. Don't make too much noise, we don't know if these people are friendly." Slowly, they paced forward through the trees and closer to the foreign settlement. As they crept, one of Jacques' companions tripped, and his firelock prematurely fired, letting off a loud bang in the woods, and it blasted the area around him with heavy smoke. Jacques ducked, and looked over at his friend that tripped and fired his musket. He stood up and shouted to his men, "Get the hell back to camp!" They all quickly ran back through the woods, muskets in one hand and hats being held on heads in the other. They hoped to escape from being caught by these foreigners before something most unfortunate would happen to the exploration group.

[New Abrahammia]

August 20th, 1845

A large amount of row boats show up from the northern coast. When they see the island, the crew rejoice as they were tired of eating seafood. The expedition leader in the largest and snazziest of the rowboats was named Joseph Johnson. He readied his rifle while the men celebrated as he was scarred of who or what was on the island.

Johnson logs in his journal what he sees,

Day 34,

As me and my men see the coast of the island, I feel scarred. I fear who or what lies beyond the trees we will pass. I try to not let the other men know, but somehow I feel that they know. I do feel a sense of pride that we are doing something good for New Abrahammia, but my sense of pride is swallowed by the sea of fear I have, knowing that the island has many secrets, perhaps very dangerous secrets, that I will encounter first hand. I have accepted the reality that I and most of my men will not survive the colonization of the island, but I will colonize what I can for New Abrahammia and everything she stands for.

After reaching the land, he instructs his men to construct an impromptu fort made of wood that they will be able to retreat to in case emergency. They will make it stronger once the resources to do so (like iron) become available.

[Tryienne]

August 17th

Mere hours after the first landing, the colonists were already curious as to what lay behind the trees that bordered their sandy colony from the woods that stood at the center of Havre de Rois. Jacques Courtier and his posse of explorers were tasked to chart the land. On the first night since the landing, Jacques took a group of 9 men with him, each armed with a smoothbore musket or long hunting rifle, food, water, and equipment for preparing food and building camp, set off to explore the rich woods of the island. For two days, Jacques and his group navigated the woods. They had yet to reach any coastlines, which worried them that they had colonized a mainland. This worry would be overcome by a temporary fright when they beheld a large, foreign flag flying high above the trees. Jacques was quick to write this down on his notebook, as this was peculiar news: someone else is already here, and they appear to be on the other side of the island. Jacques finished writing, and halted his group a good several paces away from a treeline where they could safely observe this foreign settlement. Lacking in any magnification device, he squinted to make out the image of the outlanders on the coast. He looked at his men, each of them lying low in the underbrush. "We need to get closer, I can hardly see a thing. Don't make too much noise, we don't know if these people are friendly." Slowly, they paced forward through the trees and closer to the foreign settlement. As they crept, one of Jacques' companions tripped, and his firelock prematurely fired, letting off a loud bang in the woods, and it blasted the area around him with heavy smoke. Jacques ducked, and looked over at his friend that tripped and fired his musket. He stood up and shouted to his men, "Get the hell back to camp!" They all quickly ran back through the woods, muskets in one hand and hats being held on heads in the other. They hoped to escape from being caught by these foreigners before something most unfortunate would happen to the exploration group.

August 17th, 1845 Tryiennian Date.

As Pieters and his men were busy creating a small settlement, they heard a bang coming from the woods. The settlers were, of course, frightened. They had heard stories from people back home that some of these island may harbor natives, natives whose barbary knew no boundaries and which carried huge, terrifying weapons from which they collected the heads and bodies of people who came from the sea.

As the small settlement was slowly beginning to be gripped with fear, Pieters rallied the people to calm down. "People of Tryienne, do not be frightened! These aren't no natives. Unless the natives have fire weapons of their own, I do not think that they are native." As he said those words, the people of the settlement were put to ease, somewhat, and returned to their work.

But Pieters wasn't so sure to continue with HIS work. 'Hmmm... If my ears are lying to me, that must have been the sound of a firelock going off... Unless there are natives with muskets, which I find ridiculous, given how small the cartographers have said this island might been. No, I think we aren't alone on this island. There are others on this island gaining for colonial gains. And maybe great opportunities for allies and further survival on this island... I think it's time for a small diplomatic mission here...' He thought.

Quickly, he rallied fourteen soldiers, asked him to go with him and from then they set foot to go find the other civilization from which made a colony on this island.

[Syike]

Jacques stopped in his tracks when he could vaguely make out the sound of a man talking. It certainly did not sound like any native tongue he had heard about, and was almost certain that there was civilized life on Havre de Rois. His group stopped with him, and looked at him with confusion. "There are other people here," he muttered. "Hide in the bushes, I want to see what they really are so I can make a full report. If there is trouble, we have our firelocks to defend ourselves." His men, unnerved by the anxiety of other people on the island, reluctantly agreed with his plan. They took up positions behind trees, inside and under bushes, and prepared to make contact with who, or whatever was alongside them on this rich rock.

[Tryienne]

Pieters, and his fourteen men, were marching through the forest and in the direction he had heard the sound coming from. Eventually, he reached the direction of from where the bang was heard, but nothing was to be seen.

Four of the soldiers wanted to leave already, since there was nothing to be seen, so they thought, let's go home.

But Pieters wasn't so sure that there wasn't anything that could've produced the sound...

"Keep looking men, these people can't have gone that far!"

There was some grumbling, but they eventually started searching through the forest for the people that accidentally fired in the air.

[Syike]

Jacques dug himself in the underbrush, alarmed at how the foreigners were now searching more thoroughly in the woods. He slowly raised his musket so as to not disturb the vegetation around him and make sounds to draw attention. He carefully took aim, much to the confusion of his men that hid around him. Subconsciously, they too raised their muskets and rifles at their targets. The man next to Jacques quietly protested, "What the hell are you doing? Do you want to start a war?" Jacques looked over at him with a grim face, "These men are not natives. They are clearly here with intentions that do not correspond with ours. We must take them down and return to the colony, for it is our only escape. We cannot get up and leave now, or we'll be doomed." The man next to him stared at him for a brief moment, and raised his musket at one of the fourteen foreigners. Jacques slowly moved his finger on to the trigger, and began squeezing. He put in extra strength into the squeeze, and soon enough his musket would let out a violent bang and smoke would fill the air. The men around him responded to his action with shooting by themselves, hurling a volley of minié balls at the searching foreigners. In the cloud of smoke, Jacques and his men quickly got up, turned around, and ran as fast as they could into the woods.

[Mallaska]

August 19th, 1845
Aboard the CNV Herald, Sixth Rate Vessel of the Mallaskan Crown Republic Navy underway

The crisp tropical air blew at the sails of the small collection of ships in the Mallaska flotilla of seven sailing vessels underway at haste. The Herald was their leader, an accomplished Sixth Rate warship staffed by a crew hardened by countless skirmishes against covetous miscreants of the sea wanting some goods of the trade vessels the Herald escorted. This voyage was no exception, with four mercantile ships carrying settlers and supplies needed to kickstart a new colony, and two Brigs and the Herald tasked with escorting them as well as carrying the cargo of a small amount of soldiers and the higher-priority persons of the fleet.

Mallaska was no stranger to the sea, nor colonization. Both were a particular skill to the Mallaskans, whom were already a seagoing power with ample colonial holdings from Mallaskan Gavra to the Oleands. Any opportunity to peacefully present first claim on a portion of virgin lands was exploited, and this was no exception. Mallaska itself had undergone the recent Great Reformation just three years ago, with King Thomas the Kind voluntarily stepping down from the throne to usher in the era of the Mallaskan Republic, and it was now time for the new Republic to continue its quest for wealth by filling the coffers of willing merchants with the gold gained from the sale of the virgin land's resources.

Within the Herald's rather small Officer's Quarters sat two rather important individuals to the Mallaskan colonial effort. Behind the small oak desk of the ship sat its officer, Captain Austin J. Engleton, a younger well-shaven man in his early thirties and a gifted sailor. Across from him sat Governor Stephen J. Colthurn, the appointed leader of the new colony. Governor Colthurn was somewhat older, in his mid forties and was both a respected member of the Royal Parliament and retired Royal Army officer, until only recently after his appointment by President Nathaniel B. Sullivan to be the prospective governor.

In the dark of dawn, the two men made their typical small discussion on the affairs of the voyage over beverage and light snack, as it was what spent the time over the course of the arduous voyage. Officer's sabers sat at each of the men's hips and their uniforms were tidy, though growing increasingly dirtier thanks to the inevitability of sail travel. The two were engaged in casual discussion until the light of dawn, as the door to the quarters was opened by the posted Naval Marine guard, whom stood aside to allow another occupant to the quarters: Lieutenant Matthew Hamm, whom was the posted deck officer during the night and dawn.

"Sir, I exclaim with great joy that we have spotted land. I invite you to feast your eyes upon the virgin lands off of our bow." The Lieutenant stated.

"Brilliant Lieutenant, we will be out momentarily." Captain Engleton replied, rising from his seat along with Governor Colthurn and the two made for the door.

On the deck the crew was at work, their impatient mood was momentarily waived with the energy of finally striking land, which just came into view with the light of dawn. Bells rung throughout the ship, with answering communications of the other vessels celebrating the discovery. As the ships reached the continent, the ships shortly followed the coast further northwest, into the natural bay created by the two northern peninsulas of the island. By the late day, the vessels were moored in the harbor and a slew of rowboats mad their way onto the shore at the innermost shore of the bay, with the rowboat containing Governor Colthurn leading the flotilla of boats.

As the small boat of Colthurn beached on the shore, the Governor stepped off in a dignified manner, closely followed by twelve Naval Marines of his boat and another, wielding rifles with fixed bayonets. The Governor inspected the beach, taking in the fact that he was again on dry land. He greeted the group of sixty-eight colonists in total that disembarked their boats, and assembled them and twenty-four soldiers before him to begin the settlement of the Mallaskan claim.

The colony would start by observation of the land. Governor Colthurn, his own rifle slung over his shoulder, assembled a party of twelve soldiers and twelve colonists to determine a suitable location for the first settlement. The brush of the island proved to be a difficult beast to tame, though was no match for the machetes and swords of the colonists and soldiers. Not far from the beach the party found suitable flat land, their only further obstacle being the forest. The party returned and brought the remaining colonists to clear the brush and begin building a basic settlement, while others gathered vital supplies.

The soldiers whom were unoccupied with defending the encampment and clearing site were assembled by the Governor into a scouting party numbering nine soldiers, a land surveyor, and the Governor. They ventured into the brush in an effort to survey the land and see what the island could offer, and so far all that could be found was excessive brush and ample biting insects.