Tales of Two Horizons II IC- CN Sponsored- Open

by **Military Lands of the Scottish People** » Fri Apr 27, 2018 12:14 am

March Fifteen, Eighteen Forty Eight.
Paris has seen rejuvenation; the old heart has continued to beat as it did in its prime. Louis-Napoleon, the nephew of the Great Napoleon Bonaparte, had been elected by popular vote and given temporary emergency powers till the end of the year, being placed in control of the Army and having power within the National Assembly. He, however, has been looking for ways to expand this limit. Enlisting the help of Louis Olivier Boubeau, they have began looking through the documentation of the Assembly, as well as beginning a list of "Philippiens et Radicaux", with plans to arrest said list throughout his term.

In all actuality Louis-Napoleon dreamed of the days of his youth, remembering fondly of his time with his Uncle, the "evil, expansionist, cruel" Emperor who would pick him up and put him on his shoulders to see the parade, who attempted to save France once was no longer blinded by victory after victory. He misses his Uncle, and was disappointed he could not be there when his remains were returned to France. He visits it monthly, however, it is solemn and quiet. He believes that he will avenge his Uncle, to give him the chance of forgiveness and to have the Bonaparte family rise up once more, as the rightful Emperors of the French.

He isn't stupid, however. He knows that any and all aggression will be met by hostile forces on all sides, and that France was not as blood thirsty as it was in the first revolution. He does know, however, that he can provoke. He knew that he needed to isolate control in the Italian peninsula, while supporting the nation of Hungary and whoever that could oppose Austria. He knew that the Austrians, high on their victory from the Napoleonic Wars and stuck on tradition, will look for any reason to attempt to strike them down. Britain does not want any large continental war that was seen three decades ago, and if he expanded in Europe that they would oppose it. Enemies on all sides, however, there was some comfort in knowing that France was a industrial and military beast. Any invasion would be met with radical republicanism, something they wish to avoid. He counts on that.

Multiple factories under the the names "Republican Grand Arsenal I, II, III, IV, and V" would be planned in the south and north, opening to produce the most modern weapons available in Europe. Workers were considered to be part of the army, with their own uniforms and ranks. They were to act in the National Guard if France was ever invaded, serving as its engineers. Below will be its numbers and ranks.

Conscription and volunteers have began to form a considerable force of around one hundred thousand men, forming a army and several Reserve Corps. The Army, with a mix of veterans and some of the brightest commanders, form the Armee d'Sud. The Staff is headed by the President, surprisingly, as he waits for approval from the Assembly to become Commander of the Military, showing some form of military competency. 50,000 men have been sent to the North East of France, however it is no where in particular. Austria, however will notice it. The rest remain in their current stationing as recruitment carries on, France attempting to build up a military based economy. France also had a substantial navy, with a log being made for use of the Assembly and President.

Valmy (120 Guns) France
Montebello (118) France
Roi de Rome (original name)/Louis XVI(1815)/Roi de Rome (1846) (118, finished in 1815 by the Kingdom, renamed to Louis XVI for a period of time) France
Souverain (118) France
Friedland (118) France
Comerce de Paris (110) France
Jena (110) France
Hercule (110) France
Tage (110) France
Henri IV (110) America
Jemmapes (110) Africa
Ulm (100) Africa

every other ship under one hundreds guns will be labeled in groups below
12 Second Rate Ships of the Line (8 in France, 2 in America, 2 in Algeria)
94 Third Rate Ships of the Line (54 in France, 10 in America, 15 in Africa, 15 in Algeria)
12 Fourth Rate Ships of the Line (5 in America, 6 in Africa, one in Algeria for repairs and re-purposing)
32 Fifth Rate Ships of the Line (32 in France)
52 Sixth Rates (32 in France, 10 in America, 20 in Africa)
4 Screw Frigates, 30 Guns (All in France)
32 Steam Paddle Sloops, 20 Guns (6 in America, 5 in Africa, 20 in France, 2 in Algeria)
9 Steam Paddle Frigates, 30 Guns (1 in America, 1 in Africa, 7 in France)

86,638 men in the Navy, in addition to the French Marines (the land force for the Navy) which numbers 8,602, with 3,000 serving in America and the rest in Algeria. The Navy's size accounts for Frances attempt to meet British standards, with Louis-Napoleon attempting to begin a british-style school to match British tactics. Many ships are old, with nearly a quarter being built past 1820. However the Navy keeps them maintained and running, able to hold their own despite running into maintenance issues if it is part of a long, far away from a safe port, mission.

Currently Vice Admiral Charles Baudin commands Algerian forces as Governor of Algiers. This has given the Navy a landed position and some considerable power, at the disappointment of the Army.

Currently, in America, there is 3,950 men in Guiana and the Caribbean territories. In West Africa there is 8,000 men. in Algeria there is 15,000 men, and the rest of the military remains in France. The Military's reforms are expected to end by August, with the Nationale Armee effectively formed, armed and trained, Conscription ending, the Arsenal Program finished and ready, and Napoleon being secured as President.

Francois Lehabre would reside in his mansion, having a small civil war between his staff. On his side was the Kitchen Staff, four Grenadiers, and two Cuirassiers. However, the Duke Ferdinand Philippe, moving to the property as a way to possibly find a career in the Mayan Army (which he never appealed to do, rather helping cement relations with locals of Maya and serving as a ambassador despite Francois Lehabre being assigned it) and had support of his family, five Grenadiers, Six local Mayans, and the Chef. Residing in two different mansions, skirmishes occurred daily till now, when Francois demanded Ferdinands head as a traitor to the Republic, as the conflict began when the Revolution occurred. A deadly battle saw a cuirassiers horse killed and his arm broken, two kitchen staff dead, and Francois himself injured. The Dukes force lost one grenadier who had a stroke, residing at the other mansion being treated by the chef till a doctor could come. inspired by the "victory" the duke lead a assault in a room to room battle seeing the Duke captured by kitchen staff and his force, after losing one man, surrendering and reverting to the rule of the Republicans. A public ceremony would be declared, regarding the execution of the Duke. The Duke himself was not anti Republican however he did not want to be executed, as Francois had planned from the beginning. It would occur five weeks from now, word reaching a merchant heading to France and local authorities. Francois would also submit a diplomatic letter to the Mayan Government, indicating that the Republican government had wanted warmer relations with the Mayans

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To: The Mayan Government From: The French Government; Department of the Navy; West Indies Fleet; Rear Admiral Henri Georgos Excuse this brief message, however, I have been approved to show case our massive one hundred gun ship of the line as well as one of the very rare steam ships that is in our inventory here in the Caribbean. We will show you the massive broadside of our ship, surely you will be amazed. I have been directed, and considering the fact I still govern the French-American territories, I am to organize a deal between Mayan and French traders to have lower taxes in order to monopolize on each others markets. It is hoped that this leads to better relations to our nations, as our history is that of a positive one. Despite the monarchy's removal, we have no intent to change anything regarding our relations. Military exercises can be done between the units in America and those of yours. Our marines would be interested in seeing how the Mayans battle, and perhaps we can teach you a thing or two regarding ships. It will be a learning lesson. Thank you for your time

Back in the mainland several letters were prepared to be sent to Austria, Britain, and the Pope.

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To: The Holy See and the Pontifical States From: The French Republic Greetings Holy Father. France, in wake of the smoke and action of the Revolution, has apparently scared our neighbors. Rest assured that the secularist policies followed previously will no longer be followed, rather, we look forward to working with you! We view the Papacy as the true leaders of Italy, as the others are suspect to influence from nations interested in removing the Papacy domination in Italy. Rest assured that we will defend Rome against all aggressors, and look forward to working with you.

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To: The Kingdom of Great Britain From: The French Republic Aware of your blatant "warning" to the Republic of France and her people, rest assured that we have no intention in causing any sort of continental conflict, at least not any large scale one seen over two decades ago. We will, however, protect our interests and allies, as well as protect France against any transgressions. We will warn you, we have began mobilization, and we will not give anything, nor take anything for that matter, for the foreseeable future. Traditionalism of Germany will isolate us against those and we are sure that Austria intends to see us removed, just as it did so many years ago. We will not go on a bloody murdering cycle seen in the first revolution. We hope that we can maintain our trade relationship and avoid any conflict in the years to come.

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To: The Austrian Empire From: The French Republic Greetings. The French Republic, as you may have heard of our revolution, has undergone drastic changes and practically has became the polar opposite of you. Our few similarities will never reconcile our difference and everything but open hostility is expected. We do stress, however that the French have no interest in sparking some continental war seen so long ago. Peace is desired, and we should both aim to acquire it. Respectively, France denies your claim to Alsace Lorraine however we have no interest into forcing demands that will escalate into war. But do take note we notice it, and hate it. May our conflicts find a diplomatic end if they arise and may war be avoided. We expect recognition as the sovereign ruler of France and that diplomatic communication will be easy and steady between our two nations. Thank you for your time.

by **The Ik Ka Ek Akai** » Thu May 03, 2018 6:47 pm

CHAPTER I
In Lak'ech Ala K'in

It is not good to look at the clouds or your work will not progress.

Nojpetén, 1848

K'aax'ol sat upon a tall, imposing throne of carved stone, glyphs etched into squares making up a grid forming the back of the chair, with reliefs around the base. The chair was lined with gold, shining in the natural light of the sun piercing through the tall, narrow windows high on the wall of the room, just beyond a courtyard to the palace. At the top of a set of stairs was this throne, with decorated stelae acting as columns for the high roof of the area, as well as forming a colonnade around the perimeter with pointed arches running between them going to the various other rooms of the palace. The throne itself was placed in a subroom of the area, appearing as if at the very top altar of a great temple- the last peaking terraces of which would give the appearance of a base underground reaching skyward to perfectly present her as a goddess in living form looking over all those who dared enter and face her.

K'aax'ol herself was painted, her face done in red- geometric lines, dots, and even full fields of the paint decorated her face and neck. She wore a leather shawl crafted from the tanned hide of a jaguar, its teeth used as a necklace alongside several strings of obsidian, turquoise, and jade beads. Her arms were decorated simply with ringlets made of a gold-copper alloy, forming gilded bracelets and arm rings. Her long skirt, reaching the middle of her calves, was dyed and decorated elaborately with many colors and patterns, an opulent display of wealth through simple means, but despite expectation it was so expertly crafted as, despite its cacophonous make, it would be still appealing to the eye. Her headdress, decorated with the feathers of parrots and in many colors, topped off the entire ensemble.

An official stepped towards her, and gestured his submission. He presented her with two things- the first, an alarming story of a fight between French nobility and a Republican official. He was, as it appeared, geared toward execution. He asked her response, and K'aax'ol responded as she could- that she could not condone such a thing. He nodded, and presented the other story to her- that the French sought improved relations and coordinated military effort between their respective countries. Furthermore, the French under their new administration wished to improve trade relations and open up more than ever before to one another's mercantile whims. European goods were always in demand, of course, and they always went crazy over the most common and trivial things- peppers, chocolate, vanilla, even some types of tree sap!

She decided that, perhaps, sending a letter in return would be all well and good.

With this letter sent away alongside the official, military exercises would soon begin.

General Chitam rode in front of the assembled French forces, wearing a somewhat European uniform with indigenous embellishments of jaguar and feathers. As he came closer, it became evident he also wore no shirt- instead having his styled blue military jacket over bare skin. He had a wispy mustache and beard, both thin and pointed rather than full and bushy. Slung across his back was a lance, the blades formed of sharpened obsidian razors, and in his hand a cavalry pistol. He looked at them all as he rode by slowly, silently. They had been told to stand and this particular end of a field, to watch. As Chitam stood still upon his horse, the foul stench of the shark oil he had smeared himself with began to become ever more noticeable. The Frenchmen watching had all been given small perfume bottles filled with the very same oil, although most might not understand quite why. No matter, it would be all clear soon.

A significant group of men, universally painted a brilliant hue of blue and armed with weapons wherein white eagle feathers replaced the obsidian razors that naturally slotted in. They were stood on the field, and armed guards removed the chains from their feet. As the French had been told, these were all condemned men, sentenced to death for their heinous crimes, and it was figured that their use in demonstration would be superior to any stiff ragdolls, blunted weapons, or blank cartridges that might be used otherwise. The end result was the same, no?

They were set on the field. All was quiet. Then, suddenly, the earth shook. An ear-piercing collective shriek rose to the heavens above, echoing seemingly from all areas of the jungle. Plumes of smoke and the cracks of rifles appeared from the opposite end of the field, and a flurry of arrows and darts flew through the air towards the condemned. Some blocked with their wood-and-feather shields, but many went down rather quickly. "Pay attention," Chitam told the French, "to the way they move."

The warriors ran as they reloaded, they advanced as individuals between every shot and every volley, not following a regimented line but instead pushing their own personal position. The dull arrows given to the prisoners flew back, but few were able to land a hit on the seemingly disorganized ranks of the army. More fell with each passing volley, some lay wounded on the ground. That's when the frontmost warriors took pots and hurled them, rapidly assembling a crude launching device. These pots shattered at the feet of the prisoners, some hit in the chest and head, and a massive swarm of bees and wasps grew as a cloud around them. Screams penetrated the cluster as many were injured, stung in the eyes, armpits, necks, and other vulnerable places. The bees did not last, however, and soon dispersed, leaving some struggling to hold onto their weapons.

In the last motion, with more shots and volleys launched forward, eventually the melee began. Swords and spears of obsidian, known as the macuahuitl and tepoztopilli to the Nahua of the north, and these names popularized due to the prominence of the Aztec domain upon European arrival, all saw use. The primary weapon was the one-handed macuahuitl, although some knights in decorated jaguar and eagle armor used two-handed variants. Spearmen were relatively rare, in this case, but would be suited against cavalry, and as lancers such as Chitam's presence indicated.

Beheading, disembowelment, loss of limbs, the obsidian blades were incredibly effective. Old reports from the colonial era indicate that these weapons could, in the right hands, decapitate a horse in a single swing. They were brutally clean and efficient in what they did, a true terror to behold for those easily disturbed and made ill by violent sights. Of course, this was the perfect time for French officers to note that such soldiers would not be effective in real war. That was the gist of this entire session- this was a real battle, with real injury and real death, it was all quite real and thus only through such means could the terrifying effectiveness of Mayan combat be seen in its proper form. Any soldier disgusted by it all was not fit for service, as they would falter when asked themselves to inflict such wounds.

One more man stood. The field was covered in blue and red, and the Mayan army retreated. Chitam demonstrated the tepoztopilli, and performed a charge. With one pass, he slashed at the remaining fighter. The man suffered a large gash in his arm, bleeding profusely and disabling him from using his shield. The second pass by, the man suffered a wound to his chest, and was knocked down by the blunt force of the wooden paddle the blades attached to. On the third charge, Chitam impaled the man, and with a flick of his lance at top speed the body flung off and landed in the grass.

Some prisoners had ran, escaped into the jungle. Quite a few, actually. This much was clear, nobody had stopped them, tracks all led away, and the bodies left behind seemed much fewer than the living ones standing initially. After firing a shot from his pistol into the jungle, Chitam smirked and rode back to the French. Those prisoners, he explained, had earned their right to life, and would be allowed to resettle peacefully so long as they made no more trouble, assuming they made it to a town. It was, he stated, generous- the Europeans often had brutal ways in the past to deal with such people, and nowadays favored hanging and the firing squad, but here they had been given their chance to stand up and choose their fate, and to fight. According to the ancient custom, had any of them bested seven warriors, they would be given their freedom, and another custom dictating the liberation of slaves would allow them to be free if they made it to the town square. In both cases, modified rules were put into place for the circumstances.

And with this, Chitam led the French back to civilization, to the port town of Tulum to see the Mayan steamer docked there, and perhaps the French one too. On the way back, he ranted seemingly endlessly on the brutality of warfare, the effectiveness of controlled disorganization, and most of all the willingness a warrior must have to go through this chaotic brutality to ever have success, to have survival. Without this willingness, he said, the warrior would become one of those brutalized.

by **Conchabira** » Sun May 13, 2018 11:29 am

The Federal Republic of Brazil

The hot sun shone over the roofs of the brick buildings of the government district in Jamestown. President Webster reclined at his desk in the cool shade in the back of his office. Though he officially worked and resided at the presidential palace just outside the city, he preferred the ambience of the old colonial buildings near the docks. It reminded him of when he was a young cotton merchant. Back then things were simpler, he felt he understood the world and his country then. Now that he had been plunged into the heart of the very thing, he no longer knew what to make of it.

Webster was an anomaly in Brazilian politics. He had spent most his life living in the city, had never owned a slave, and had been sent by his father to Eton to be educated. The rest of the political elite in the country were, save for a few, wealthy rural planters. They cared little for reform or progress. Their efforts were entirely focused on maximizing the value of their crops and maintaining the system that had reared and nurtured them. This system, the practice of enslaving other human beings in the millions, was antithetical to Webster's beliefs. Yet now he sat here, in this office of power, knowing that despite his values, he could not achieve anything politically if he as much brought up the notion of emancipation. The mind reeled. No, the heart broke.

The problem in his eyes was that the entire political class in Brazil, those with land and wealth, were all in some way or another involved in the business of slavery. Therefore if he desired to put the slavery question to rest it would necessitate the creation of a class divested from slavery yet also in possession of ample political power. To do this Webster knew that an industrial class, much like the one he himself had witnessed in Britain, would have to developed in Brazil in order to end slavery without starting a civil war. This is why he sat here now, particularly pleased on this hot day, talking with Secretary Fremont about an enticing letter from Britain.

"So if I understand, this Atlantic and Plymouth company wishes to come here and construct a rail system?"

"Yes sir. From what I have gathered about them it seems they're a reputable organization with ample experience constructing railways in Britain."

"Well Mr.Fremont I admit I'm very intrigued by this offer. This could be the first step in constructing an industrial sector of our own here in Brazil."

"And it seems like it will gain the approval of the planters, considering it will greatly decrease the time it takes to get their crop to port."

"Excellent, write back at once and inform them of our acceptance of their enticing offer."

Meanwhile along the southern border with Antartique a Brazilian surveying expedition led by the esteemed Colonel Winfield Scott crept along through the thick brush. The expedition had been dispatched several weeks before so as to map out the remote regions of the contested border. The expedition consisted of a team of 16 surveyors escorted by a platoon of Brazilian rangers.

Suddenly without warning shots rang out. Chaos ensued with soldiers running to and fro, not knowing where the firing was coming from. The dense brush land quickly filled with smoke. Colonel Scott quickly reorganized his men and pulled them back. Yet by the time the men had regrouped, 12 Brazilians already laid slain.

by **Intermountain States** » Mon May 14, 2018 1:28 am

March 21st, 1848
Korea Strait

"Brace for impact!"

Shrapnels flew through the air as a cannonball hit the port of the panokseon. Some of the sailors stumbled a bit as they tried to find their balance. Captain Hwan Gil-su held onto the rails for balance before turning to Lieutenant Yi Jung-mo.

"What's the status of the ship?" he asked.

"We've taken some damage but we're still operational. We're using some of the surplus woods to patch up the holes," Jung-mo replied.

"Captain, they're getting closer," Lieutenant Gim Ki-han warned. Gil-su looked to see the pirate ship heading at the panokseon at top speed.

"Those pirates want to play rough, eh?" Gil-su said, "Have our cannons return fire."

The ship fired back with their own guns, tearing off bits of the pirate ship. When the ships were close enough, some of the sailors and marines grabbed their rifles and blunderbusses and exchanged fires with the pirates' own arrows and matchlock muskets.

"Don't let up, keep firing at the pirates!" Gil-su ordered. More cannons continue to fire and holes were made into the pirate ship. The pirate ship responded with cannon fire of their own, tearing off pieces from the ship.

"We're taking heavy fire!" Jung-mo yelled.

"Turn the ship around and fire from the starboard!" Gil-su commanded. The ships turned, exposing their less damaged hull and fired back at the pirate ships. Both ships exchanged fire before the heavily damaged pirate vessel begins to sink.

Relieved, the sailors begin to celebrate as the lower deck officer approached the captain.

"Lieutenant Seo Jang-yop," Gil-su greeted the lower deck officer. "What's the status on the ship?"

"We've taken heavy damages," Jang-yop said. "We need to return back to friendly waters for repairs and also get some of the wounded some medical attention."

"Alright then," Gil-su said. "Have the ship set course for Busan."

March 27th, 1848
Hanseong, Joseon

Despite holding one of the most powerful position in the country, the residential area of Prime Minister Kim Myeonggyeong in the capital was quite modest. Only a single painting and some plants decorate the house of the aging Prime Minister. Of course, Jun-min noted, Myeonggyeong came from the quite wealthy and influential Geonju Kim family from the northern regions, their bloodline being set all the way back to Jurchen noblemen during the Jin Dynasty. Perhaps the Prime Minister's home in Geongju would be more extravagent.

"The Emperor approved of the design you sent," Myeonggyeong said to Jun-min as he pour tea on two cups. "You are free to make contracts with the shipbuilding companies that express interest in building naval upgrades."

"I'm thinking of approaching Blue Seas Shipyard as they already build our ships," Jun-min said, accepting the cup of tea. "Since these designs are to upgrade our current line of ships, shipbuilding companies would likely be focusing on conversion for the first wave."

"You said that you received help from the British ambassador, Lord Orson Craddock, for the designs?" Myeonggyeong asked.

"Yes, the Britons have built a massive maritime empire and I figure that they would be able to help us with naval upgrades," the Defense Minister answered. "Turns out the ambassador already has solutions in mind and seems to have taken a great interest on our turtle ships. He even offered to have his own government to aid in our modernization efforts."

"That seems awfully kind of the ambassador," the Prime Minister said. "And what does he expect for us to do in return? Does he want British influences in the Imperial Court or more favorable trade deals with the British Empire? Is he clamoring for special privileges for Britons in Joseon? Forgive my pessimistic nature but I'd like to know how he thinks this could help his own country."

"I'm not sure of Lord Craddock's full intention but it seems that he wants a military expedition for an annexation of Nihon," Jun-min said. "I'm not for certain if he has some sort of imperial ambition onto the islands that make up Nihon but he claims that he wants to see order brought to the Nihon people and to put an end on the pirate activities that manifest from Yamoto."

"Nihon has been under a constant state of civil war and their civil war had spilt over to Joseon with increase in pirate attacks," the Prime Minister acknowledged. "That is why the Emperor wanted revitalizations into our navy. But this seems a little too crazy. Joseon has no imperial ambition into Nihon, we only have close relations with the So Clan of Tushima Island, a tributary state to Joseon."

"Regardless of whether or not the Imperial Court accepts his call for an expedition to Nihon," Jun-min said. "Lord Craddock mentioned that he will still provide support for our navy revitalization program, even mentioning sending some engineers and naval officers of his to assist in the building process."

"Well we can't accept such an ambitious expansion in good faith," Myeonggyeong said. "We simply do not have any justification for a conquest against our island neighbors. Our main focus is to revitalize our navy to better defend our waters. We'll have to keep this discussion of a supposed to ourselves, however. If the pro-Qian faction gets a word that we're discussing an invasion of a neighboring country, they would find some way to use it as a political tool to expose our so-called hypocrisy."

"Yes, my Lord," Jun-min said. "This would be a secret between just us."

"I'll see to it that the ambassador is handsomely awarded for his support," the Prime Minister said to the Defense Minister a few hours later when Jun-min was about to leave the house. "Send me the shipbuilding companies you want for contract and I'll send them a notice to accept and house some British aide in the process."

by **Zhukovian** » Wed May 23, 2018 10:24 pm

Grand-Duché d'Argentine
March 1848

Palais de Bijoux, Bon Bélier

The Grand Duke sat at his throne at the only completed palace in Argentine, though there are some Château in the provinces the Palais de Bijoux (Palace of Jewels) is the grandest of all noble residence. Since their successful ascension to power in the early 1900s, the noble families led by the Artois have worked together in improving the state of Argentine. At first, they used their own funds in building the local industries especially the agricultural sector. This move would soon bear fruit because of the production rate of their farms.

Now that economic growth is steadily rising, the government could finally ease a bit with an issue crash out of their bucket list. Grand Duke Artois turned to his infrastructure to support the economic growth and his borders to protect it. With this, he has called a meeting with the Minister for Government Works and Development and the Chief of Staff of the Military. Walking in the throne room first is Count Grégoire Ballesdens, the Minister for Government Works, followed by Gen. Aymeric Boucher, Duke of Rivières. Both bowing their heads to the seated Grand Duke, "Your Grace, we are here, by your orders." Lifting his body from his throne, he descended the small steps of stairs and said, "Very well, follow me to my office. The large map is in there."

Upon arriving at his office he faced the Count Ballesdens and said, "I believe you are already aware as to why I have called for your presence. Though we can ease with the steady rise of our economy and population. We must support it with a good infrastructure, I prefer a railroad system that could bring supplies to our borders with Chile. With at least a good road system and improved ports along the coastline." looking at Ballesdens for an answer.

As the Grand Duke took his seat, the Count opened his mouth and said, "Your Grace, I believe that we can improve our overall infrastructure without a specific building left behind. We could ask for investments from the Kingdom of Yue and maybe even from France, we cannot deny the fact that Argentine posses a lot off potentials that is just waiting to be exploited. In order to exploit this even further, we need a strong infrastructure to transport equipment and resources faster. The Kingdom of Yue has the resources that could help us build our dream, not just that but if they were to help us, it will bring our nations closer...another ally."

The Grand Duke straightened his back and asked, "What about France? Wouldn't they prefer a direct imperialism rather than a dependent market here in the Amérique du Sud (South America)?"

Still standing, the Count replied, "Well, given our current relations with France, we may have a chance to be awarded by their investment. Even if they will not invest, the Yue's investment is enough to propel our infrastructure projects. The French investment would be used to boost it's construction time, quality and to our industries."

Leaning back the Grand Duke smiled and said, "Very well, you may now go to write the letters for the Kingdom of Yue and to France. Thank you for your service." smiling to the Count with a small head bow.

"It is my honor, Your Grace. Au revoir." returning the smile and made a full bow before turning and leaving the room.

Turning to the General who is silently reading the Art of War by Sun Tzu translated into French. "Général Boucher, how's the performance of our Army?"

Placing the book back on the bookshelf, he walked forward and replied, "Your Grace, with the aid from France in training our Army using their doctrine and improvising some tactics to quickly adapt in our native environment, I could fairly say that our military is improving by the day. However, if we were to properly defend our country from a future war with our aggressive neighbor of the North, we need to have forts strategically placed there to stop an advancing army. Fortunately, given the current budget of our military, we could do so with efficiency, but I would build it slowly but surely in order to allocate the funds for the improvement of the army such as equipment, materials and the potential recruitment drive."

Listening intently to the General in front of him he said, "That is good news indeed, however, our population is steadily growing every day because of the migrants from every corner of the world. It could be projected that by next year we could recruit an additional 10,000 men. But Today, I want you to start the training of 10,000 militiamen within 6 months. And prepare our army for the invasion of Chile."

Invasion of Chile? that is the phrase that echoed on the General's head before replying enthusiastically, "Right sir, I'll prepare them. I'll train the militia like an army if I have to.!" with a salute he bowed before the Grand Duke before turning and leaving the room.

Ministry Building for Foreign Affairs

Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Grand Duchy of Argentine
Based in Bijou, Bon Bélier
Grand Duchy of Argentine
For the future we serve

Ministère des Affaires étrangères du Grand-Duché d'Argentine
Basé à Bijou, Bon Bélier
Grand-Duché d'Argentine
Pour l'avenir, nous servons

To: The Kingdom of Yue
From: The Grand Duchy of Argentine
Subject: Investment Request

Wènhòu! 問候

The Grand Duchy of Argentine wishes to ask the Kingdom of Yue for their investment for the infrastructure of the Grand Duchy. Such investments would prove beneficial for the improvement of the Argentine infrastructure and the economy at most. Noting the current inability of the coffers of the Grand Duchy to support this ambitious dream of ours, we have therefore turned to one of the greatest nations of the East, the Kingdom of Yue. Citing their current financial prowess and their ability to support their allies from oceans away, the Kingdom of Yue has been deemed as the best option of the Grand Duchy to ask for an investment grant.

We would like to point out that Argentine has a lot of potentials that is just waiting to be explored. Such infrastructure project would improve our ability to use this resources for the betterment of the whole Grand Duchy. This would then make us capable of paying the Kingdom what we have in debt. Not only that but we will also pledge to line ourselves as a great ally for the Kingdom of Yue here in South America. We can also assure that your investment is protected as our greatest threat of the North, Brazil, is still incapable of invading the Grand Duchy and we are currently making moves to improve our defenses. In exchange for the Kingdom's investment, we are willing to help you in opening up business in our Argentine markets.

We are hoping for you to consider this, as this would be a win-win for both of us.

Signed by:

Grégoire Ballesdens
Count of Cordoue, Minister for Foreign Affairs of the Grand Duchy of Argentine

Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Grand Duchy of Argentine
Based in Bijou, Bon Bélier
Grand Duchy of Argentine
For the future we serve

Ministère des Affaires étrangères du Grand-Duché d'Argentine
Basé à Bijou, Bon Bélier
Grand-Duché d'Argentine
Pour l'avenir, nous servons

To: The French Republic
From: The Grand Duchy of Argentine
Subject: Investment Request

Bonjour Monsieur!

I would like to start this letter with the greatest gratitude for your assistance in training our military. Though we have some experience in warfare, the experienced military advisors of the fatherland have greatly increased their performance and discipline. We are looking forward to the other initiatives that would be produced by this mix of tactics.

Currently, we are asking for another help from our former mother. We are starting an infrastructure project to connect the coastline to the inner country, but we are in need of fund in order to finish it as soon as possible and to prevent any other delays that are due to financial lack. And so we are turning for the French investment to help us. When this infrastructure project is finished, we could assure you that we may now have the ability to slowly support ourselves and may slowly pay back our debt to you.

We are hoping for you to consider this as we move toward a better relationship with each other. In exchange for your investments, we are willing to help you in opening businesses here in the Argentine markets.

Signed by:

Grégoire Ballesdens
Count of Cordoue, Minister for Foreign Affairs of the Grand Duchy of Argentine

by **Senkaku** » Thu Jun 28, 2018 7:23 pm

This is a joint post with Liecthenbourg!

Love and War

”All’s fair in love and war.”

21 April
Outside Kaifeng

Her hands were pressed down on the battle map sprawled across the table before her, a detailed sketch of the city of Kaifeng and its surroundings intricately painted on the parchment. Every road and every street, every crenellation that stood on its remaining out walls.

Lamps burned ferociously in the command tent, casting her shadow onto one of the fabric walls. Hunched over, in thought, clad in a still blood-stained ceremonious breastplate of lamellar that had seen action outside of Chang’an at her great conquest.

Dan-Xayaa Khertek, who the Chinese called “Hanrde Haiya”, had proved to the coalition of Chinese states that had tried to intervene against her expansion that the Qian state was not to be trifled with. She had angered their values when she declared herself Empress of China before fallen kings and tombs at Kaifeng and she had scared commoner and noble alike once news had reached that her forces had decimated a Shu expeditionary army, some 300,000 strong, outside of her capital of Chang’an.

Thundering hooves had crashed like a hammer against an anvil outside the old Tang capital and once the dust had settled, an army a third of a million strong was crushed, countless lay dead and even more nestled away into the Black Dragon’s ever-increasing captivity. Her horde of precious, little treasures.

Yet she was angry. She was growing restless. Her teeth were clenched constantly and she ground them against each other in agitation with each passing moment.

They were supposed to be unstoppable, like the tide. They were supposed to be the force that ran infantry and guns down. But they had failed their first assault. True, it was but her vanguard, but it was a scorching slight on her nonetheless. Xuan and his men were still starving and her men were baying for blood, waiting anxiously as more of her veterans from her campaigns trailed towards Kaifeng.

She sighed mightily, slumping down on the chair she had used during the meeting of her war council prior. Her swarthy Mongol advisers had all said the same; charge again, relentlessly. She had dismissed them all as too hungry for victory when it could not be guaranteed. No. Instead she had vouched for something not many had wanted her to do: wait. She and her army sat idly, watching the fires around Kaifeng -- her city -- burn.

And burn ferociously they did.

Wrapping herself in a shoal she stepped outside her command tent to the salute of two guardsmen outside. The Empress of China stifled a yawn, looked over them both and again let out an exhale.

Neither of you will do.

So she stared towards Kaifeng in silence. The wind picked up gently, causing her to cacoon herself tightly within the shoal. Her face basked in the glorious white-light of the crescent moon, it shining off of the pieces of lamellar that were not caked in mud, muck and blood.

As she watched calmly, thoughts raced across her mind. She could die tomorrow and be remembered forever in history; for her gambit to Zhengzhou had succeeded - an unparalleled advance across canyon and river that had given her the city, she had taken Kaifeng and she had crushed Shu beneath her horse’s hooves.

But dying was not on her agenda. A fire within her demanded more, ever more conquest and glory -- when she had declared herself the Heir of Kublai Khan as well as Empress of China, bits of her mind agreed with her. She was not just pompously declaring titular grandeur. Somewhere within she agreed with her words.

Quickly, promptly, she turned to the guardsmen a few feet behind her. “Get someone to prepare me some tea and some food -- I really don’t care, anything, as long as it’s warm.” She was going to hold her tongue, but did not. “Your Empress is cold.”

With her infantry and guns now reinforcing her she would conduct her orchestral fury.

Tomorrow, Wu’s forces would break.

From camp to camp through the foul womb of night
The hum of either army stilly sounds.

The moon hung high, a razor-thin crescent peering through ragged clouds, as Commander Sun yawned slightly. From the hilltop on which his command post was situated, he could see its reflection against the Yellow River, transformed into a silver ribbon stretching eerily off into the night as it flowed through the city that had once been the heart of the Middle Kingdom’s last great, united dynasty.

Around it, Kaifeng was in darkness, save for a few pockets of flame that smoldered on, sending pale smoky vines climbing skyward. The massive artillery cannons and heavy rockets of the Wu army had pounded it almost ceaselessly for days and days, trying to flush out General Xuan’s starving army to no avail. Bodies had been floating down the river in increasing numbers, refugees from the city approaching Wu lines with greater and greater frequency almost with every passing hour- not a single grain barge, nor even so much as an apple, had entered Kaifeng since the jaws of the coalition army had snapped shut around the city.

But the Wu guns were eerily silent tonight, on Commander Sun’s orders- they were stockpiling as much ammunition as they could, now. The Black Dragon’s assault several days before had been bloodily repulsed, but spies and scouts had all been reporting the same thing since the stricken Tuvan vanguard had retired in a thundering cavalcade of hooves from the field and General Xuan’s breakout force was obliterated in an avalanche of shells. The Tuvan empress was gathering more troops to her, the huge swarms of battle-hardened infantry and artillery who were still hurrying behind, struggling to catch up to the van on their forced march from Chang’an.

And as all of China and the world knew, they were hurrying hot off of one of the greatest victories any army in history had scored over another. 300,000 Shu soldiers had marched on the Tuvan capital, the ancient seat of the Tang empire- it was not yet clear how many had survived and returned home to fight another day, but all reports indicated that Chongqing’s strategists were facing one of the most colossal military disasters in history. Tens of thousands had been slaughtered or scattered in the daring night attack by Hanrde Haiya, the woman who would be Empress, with tens of thousands more swept off into an ignominious captivity. In a stroke, between a third and a half of the coalition’s armies had been essentially erased by the Tuvans- the victories scored by the eastern allies were of scant reassurance, especially to the Ming court, which had seen thousands of its men perish on the bloody field at Shangqiu as General Xuan continued his fighting retreat. Even Hangzhou’s arrogant confidence had seemed rattled, from the telegrams and messenger birds that had arrived for the various chief officers of the army- conveying everything from court gossip to official orders, but all suddenly seeming to contain a real edge of concern.

Sun Daiyan, though, was not about to allow some subhuman barbarian woman defeat His Radiance’s army, by bold midnight attack or any other means. Since the Tuvan cavalry’s lightning attack and General Xuan’s simultaneous breakout attempt had been brushed off, the men of the coalition army had worked ceaselessly, day and night, to strengthen their position. Reinforcements were bolstering the front lines, wagonloads of fresh ammunition being hauled (along with more guns) to Commander Peng’s artillery units, thousands of men using spade and trowel and hatchet to erect earthworks from which to withstand the coming assault.

And the assault was coming- that much, Daiyan knew. There was blood and smoke in the air. It would be a red sunrise tomorrow.

Daiyan woke to a sudden clatter of hooves and flurry of shouts from outside. As he rolled up and off the cot where he’d been taking a cat-nap, other senior officers in the sprawling command tent stirred from the tables where they were busily occupied with planning the coming battle or the cots or thin sleeping mats where they were grabbing a few minutes of rest. What is going on out there? He strode outside quickly, grabbing his sword from beside the bed as dread suddenly began swirling through his mind. They had sentries everywhere, had laid their preparations carefully so the Tuvan army would batter itself to pieces in the face of their guns tomorrow- and yet.

After all, the Shu army had been defeated in a night attack.

But when he stepped out of the command tent, he was- thankfully- not greeted by blood and flames and slashing sabers. All was calm, but a posse of riders were dismounting in front of the tent, surrounded by an escort of Imperial Guardsmen- dressed not in their field uniforms, but in the gilded armor of palace guards. Commander Sun strode towards the group, frowning as his sleep-addled brain kicked into gear, and then took a sharp breath as he saw a face loom out from behind one of the horses.

The Chancellor’s chief of staff, An Bolin, materialized out of the darkness like a wraith, and Daiyan drew up short, frowning even more deeply. “An Bolin- how unexpected. What are you doing here?”

The eunuch gave him a faint, thin-lipped smile, the dark crows’ feet under his eyes as pronounced as Daiyan had ever seen them, and took something out of his sleeve. The officers and troops who had gathered all around stared as the gilded ivory slate gleamed in the light of lamps and torches- an imperial passport, elegantly engraved with an investiture of command.

“I’m here to oversee the negotiation of a truce with the barbarians, Commander Sun. I’m told we expect the battle to be joined come sunrise, so you’d better hurry and help me pull together a parlay team. We’ll ride to speak with the Black Dragon and her generals at once, while you continue your preparations.”

“Empress -- a delegation from the Wu has arrived at camp.”

A smiled sprawled across her face, even as she tucked in on dumplings and salted slices of beef. Turning from the table, she raised her glass -- empty, but once containing liquor -- into the air.

“For surrender, I presume? Shu was too much for them to handle, eh? Eh?” She was pleased with herself, exceedingly. China was hers. Wu would not pose a threat anymore, strangled in the dust and the smouldering fires of Kaifeng.

The messenger, a shorter Chinese man with a thin mustache looked on nervously. “My Empress; not for their surrender… no. I believe it is a… uh…”

Kaygal unfurled his wings and gave a squawk from atop his perch. The Empress gestured on, her eyes unflinching. “Spit it out, I don’t bite. Kaygal does.”

“They come in the name of a truce; Generals Medekhgüi and Dai already treat with them, my Empress. In your name.”

Xayaa threw her glass onto the floor and clenched her fist, angrily. Her teeth ground against each other and she pointed to the flaps of the tent. “Out.” Kaygal squawked again but this time the empress held out her gauntleted arm to which the bird flew to as if it were a second home. With her free hand she donned her helmet, symbolic none-the-less and applied on her ceremonial swords and draped across her armour the tattered silks of old dresses she had looted from Kaifeng.

They had come with pomp and splendour, waving the banners of the Imperial Court of Wu. They rode upon fine white stallions, bridled in extravagance. They were welcomed; of course, envoys were not a thing of alien nature of Qian. They had just treated with Koreans in Chang’an, after all.

Guided to a larger tent, this is where Xayaa and her generals would plan their movements. Their maps were removed, the table set for a quick brunch if the Wu delegation would have it and they were sat down alongside two of the Qian generals; Medekhgüi and Dai -- a Mongol and a Mandarin.

There was a tense silence, with the man known as An Bolin demanding to see “the Black Dragon”, wherein which Medekhgüi assured she would be here in time. They spat back and forth, with the swarthy Mongol man drumming his fingers on the table in boredom.

Dai was more jittery, nervous — in his mind he replayed the scenes from the invasion of Zhengzhou over and over. How Hanrde Haiya had dragged him into her boat, how she had stood in its prow as they sailed towards the banks with skirmishing shots from the city whizzing and splashing around them. The ever-presenting sting from the wound he nursed in his left shoulder, as he led an infantry charge through the breach, was a careful reminder of the lengths that his Empress would go to prove a point. He was in her sights that day, for questioning her methods of taking the city.

Across from the swarthy Mongol general and his wounded race-traitor colleague, An Bolin sat calmly in the chair that had been brought for him, one leg lazily hanging over the other. The slightly-built eunuch in his simple, elegant silk and riding leather cut an incongruous figure, surrounded by heavily-built military men in armor, all carrying swords or pistols or rifles. Next to him, the chief Ming emissary- only a junior consulate attache, rushed out here by their foreign ministry- also sat, though the nervous bouncing of his knee stood in sharp contrast to Bolin’s motionless cool. Commander Peng paced back and forth behind Bolin’s chair, occasionally glancing around at the tent, the Tuvan generals, and the four soldiers in with them- two Tuvan riders and two Imperial Guardsmen.

Standing to Bolin’s left, one leg bent and his hips cocked in boredom, Liu Jiaoren, the representative of both the Foreign Ministry and the Golden Eye, yawned slightly, regarding Medekhgüi with an expression of thinly veiled disgust. The four Chinese sat in silence between their guards, while outside eight more mounted Imperial Guardsmen stood ramrod straight and perfectly still atop their horses, eyes flicking around behind their helmets and visors for any approaching threat.

The young Ming envoy suddenly cleared his throat, and Commander Peng stopped pacing and looked at him as Bolin and Jiaoren turned slightly to stare. The younger man looked down into his lap. Bolin gave a tiny sigh out through his nose and looked back at the two Tuvan generals, waiting patiently. If they mean to try and stall us and catch us unprepared come morning, they’re in for an unpleasant surprise.

“She’s not doing this on purpose.” Dai eventually added, growing irate as his compatriot continued to drum his fingers onto the table before them.

Behind him and Medekhgüi stood guardsmen, uniformly dressed with an assortment of rifles and pistols and swords on their person. Battle hardened by the campaigns in Zhou and on a euphoric high from the battle against the Shu. They stood stoically, though with the tense atmosphere about them some shifted their weight uncomfortably from one foot to another. Even if they were soldiers, the gravity of the situation was immense.

The Mongol Commander was going to speak once more, but behind the Wu diplomats the flaps of the tent peered forth.

Bolin turned around slightly, careful to keep his expression inscrutable, as a woman stepped inside. His eyes flicked up, down, and back to the two Tuvan generals, appraising her and quickly establishing her identity.

Is this it? The feared Black Dragon of the West? I rode all this fucking way, just to meet some barbarian dyke in dirty leather armor? This should be a nightmare. And is that a fucking bird on her arm?

Dai and Medekhgüi stood up (Bolin did not) and bowed before their Empress and she quickly waved them down, stepping forth to her seat at the head of the table. She held her left arm up, with her falcon Kaygal perched upon it.

“So, let’s make this quick shall we?” She raised a hand to the beak of the bird, feeding it the leftovers of her breakfast. “You have soured my morning, you know?” Looking up, finally, she met Bolin’s gaze with her own. “I was so looking forward to take your surrender - but I’m told this is for a truce.”

Bolin gave what could be generously described as a faint smile, a slight upward twist of his lips that did not reach his gaze. “That is correct. I hope you share our interest in finding a mutually agreeable arrangement,” he said evenly. “I assume you’re the woman who’s taken to calling herself the Empress of China, by the way? I am An Bolin, chief of staff to His Excellency the Chancellor. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, madame.”

She smiled. A genuinely pleasant smile, one betraying femininity amidst a person clad head to toe in mud and blood caked garb. “Yes, An Bolin, I am. But you forgot the more interesting titles, too, Heir to Kublai Khan and the like.” Kaygal squawked and she stroked his head, calming him down. “Was the Chancellor too busy to attend this himself? Or your Emperor? You do have an emperor, I recall? He’d be someone I’d like to meet.” Watching for a change in any of the delegation’s expressions, she relaxed into the chair. “Right. What is your ‘mutually agreeable arrangement.’?”

Bolin cocked an eyebrow, resisting the temptation to laugh at the woman or take any further jabs. “His Radiance’s government is continuing to make the necessary deliberations on the content of a long-term agreement, but for now our proposal is that a ceasefire be immediately put into effect between your forces and those of the coalition for no less than five weeks, while our respective governments make arrangements for the negotiation of a broader solution to the territorial problem.”

“You’re a brave man, An Bolin.”

“Not a full man, I’m afraid,” the eunuch interrupted with a faint smile. “But you were saying?”

“Cockless?” Xayaa couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t let anyone tell you you need one to do great things.” She idly looked from person to person of the Wu delegation. “Do you understand what coming to me, asking for a ceasefire, realistically looks like?”

Bolin shrugged. “If you’re not interested, we can call it a night and let Commander Peng get back to his artillery tables.” He watched intently for a reaction, as did Peng.

Her eyes narrowed at that. Dai inhaled, uncomfortably, and mouthed the word ‘Xuan’ to his Empress.

“What happens to the city of Kaifeng in those five weeks, Bolin?” Xayaa added, goading herself into the possibility of this ceasefire.

The eunuch looked from General Dai to Xayaa, considering his next move and his last conversation with Commander Sun. “Food will be allowed into the city if your army there surrenders its weapons.”

Medekhgüi scoffed, waving Bolin away. “Empress, he plans on making us weak for a final blow.” The woman in question looked at him, eyes daggers.

“Hush.”

“I think the men in Kaifeng have already been rather weakened, sir,” Bolin said lightly to the general. “How long has it been since they’ve eaten, I wonder? How many bullets can they have left, especially after that debacle a few days ago?”

“I take half the guns, you take the other half.” Xayaa interrupted. “Xuan and his men will be allowed to leave and Kaifeng will be the place of our summit.”

Bolin laughed out loud at her. “If you’re not interested in my offer, madame, Commander Peng will have a busy day tomorrow, so we should really be getting back.”

“You’re cockless, not earless, Bolin. Do I have to get on my knees to show interest to this coalition? You came to parlay a truce and I’m here to accommodate for that.”

Bolin shrugged. “I’ve no opposition to an eventual meeting in Kaifeng, as a fair middle ground- but allowing that army to rejoin the field is totally out of the question. Those men will be provided for by our grain ships, and they will be disarmed and quartered in the city.”

“Five weeks, you said?” She asked. Indeed, her vanguard might have been vested and her reinforcements had arrived, but what good that do for Kaifeng and Xuan. A veteran isn’t invulnerable to cannon fire - and Wu had a host of that available to it.

“Five weeks from today, with the possibility of lengthening that if our negotiators agree it’s necessary to produce a durable settlement.”

Rubbing her temples and letting out a sigh, Xayaa shrugged her shoulders back. “Then I accept this ceasefire.”

“Wonderful,” Bolin said, standing. “I’ll go inform Commander Sun and Hangzhou of the good news.”

Five weeks later…
Kaifeng
Longting Park

The old Song palace had long since largely been ruined, despite feeble attempts at restoration under a once-united Zhou. Now, even what had been restored bore the marks of a siege- Wu artillery shells had blown roofs off, knocked walls down, smashed columns and courtyards to rubble. The gardens of Longting Park hadn’t been properly maintained for many years before the war, but now they had been scoured bare by General Xuan’s army, searching for any type of fodder for its ever-dwindling horses. Even the Dragon Pavilion, which had stood and been rebuilt through the Mongol invasion and a thousand other disasters, bore the scars of the bombardment, gaping holes opened in its roof and part of its grand staircase rendered almost impassable by great shell craters.

Despite the damage, though, laborers from both parties to the negotiations taking place here had been working day and night to patch up and sweep away the worst of the damage, in anticipation of today’s ceremonies.

Xayaa oversaw their work, idly. She’d spent much of her time during the truce speaking to her soldiers, aiming to inspire the battle-weary men of Xuan’s defenders. Their spirits had been lifted indeed, but if that was due to their Empress or the much needed arrival of food to their bellies one could only accurately assume.

She’d met an interesting amount of people, but came to the solid conclusion that everyone under the Wu banner harboured immense pre-conceptions about her. Some gaped at her… ‘barbarian features’, despite the long established claims made by the ‘Tuvan Entity’ that they had sinicised. Much like Bolin, there was a sneer of superiority about them. As much as she felt like she was being caged within Kaifeng for a peace, she knew that the Wu men were… short of disgusted with the filth they must’ve felt they were dealing with.

Of all the members of the Wu court that caught her eye, it was obvious that she’d be drawn to their Emperor; Chang. To the Qian leader he wasn’t much in terms of looks; sure he had a nice looking body — from what she could gauge from his outfits — and a pleasant face, he lacked what she conceived as ‘manly’, draped in his silks and his perfumes.

At the memory of their brief interactions she laughed to herself. If this is how she saw him, she could only imagine that she looked butch and plain to him.

She had been drawn to him because he represented power, though how much power Chang held over his court she didn’t know. In Qian the court was pulled by her, even Nidali, but was the same true for Wu?

He was here too, having ridden from Chang’an alongside his Under-Secretary, Ping Pong. Both courtly masters had come to give resolve in the diplomatic and technical fields of stately politic to the more martially-inclined Xayaa. In their stead, a capable camaraderie of civil servants were left to run the state.

Today was the day.

And they were early.

The three of them sat pleasantly amidst the remnants of one of the halls of the old, shell-battered palace. Guards and servants about, the former standing stoically with their rifles whilst the latter came to and fro the set-up kitchens that provided food to the diplomats. Steaming buns and caught-game, fine glasses of wine and even sweet treats from sugar grown in the New World were to be found at the palace.

Sides that had fought against one another, now found themselves sitting under the same roof.

Here she was, with her ministers, to preside over the diplomatic truce and peace of her realm’s state of war with three countries she hadn’t invaded. Shu, Ming, and Wu, some sort of declared police states, intervening before Qian could take all of the Zhous.

The old, bombed-out Song throne room, where the emperors of a united Zhou had once reigned from as well, had been hurriedly patched up along with the rest of the palace, with huge tarpaulins and colored silk sheets covering shell holes and stray bits of masonry and shrapnel hurriedly swept aside into ponds or courtyards. In place of the rubble, a huge wooden platform had been erected like a stage, dominating the entire room. At one end, a single higher platform rose up, with another smaller platform rising from it to form a structure almost like a step pyramid. Xayaa would sit atop its pinnacle, surrounded by her entourage of ministers and generals on the level below. At the other end, three platforms had been erected- two taller platforms on the right and in the center, and a shorter one on the left. The two taller platforms also each followed the step-pyramid configuration— Chang would sit atop the central platform, while the Ming emperor (also in attendance) would surmount the right, each surrounded by advisers. On the left, the slightly shorter platform would be occupied by the Shu delegation, since the Shu emperor, separated from Kaifeng by many miles of hostile or neutral territory and with his armies still in disarray after the disaster at Chang’an, was not personally attending.

Between the two parties, a long table divided the whole stage in two, with chairs lining each side for the diplomats who would sit at it. On either side of the gigantic main stage, wooden galleries also rose— formally they were for spectators of all sorts, but informally the Northern Zhou emperor would sit to the right and the Southern Zhou emperor would sit to the left, each with their own delegations, surrounded by crowds of onlookers from the nations that had just stripped them of their power.

A hush drew over those assembled in the galleries— a good-sized crowd, now— as the vast pageantry of this momentous day began to unfold, with great drums hidden somewhere outside the room suddenly beginning to shake the air.

From their respective ends of the platform, the three monarchs and the Shu viceroy, each surrounded by swarms of deputies, attendants, advisers, guards, and servants, swept into the room, ascending to their designated positions in a stately procession. Each offered a few brief words— the Ming emperor opting to read a poem by Li Bai with symbolic connections to peace, Chang reciting a short, dry statement prepared by the Foreign Ministry, the Shu viceroy reading a brief but florid and somewhat overwrought expression of his hope for tranquility and brotherhood, and Xayaa giving a small statement of her own.

The drums sounded again, once, and the four chief dignitaries sat, their example followed by their assembled minions and the spectators. Now the diplomats approached the table, bowing to one another and taking their seats to begin the long, dull process of negotiations as the poobahs looked on. Occasionally one would get up to whisper something to someone seated closer to their leader, or to the leader themself, or leave the room to relieve themselves or fetch some papers, but other than that, the plan was they would remain there until evening.

That was the plan, anyways, until, after a brief spurt of murmuring from the Wu platform, the Anfu Emperor suddenly rose from his seat and left the room. Immediately, consternation rippled through the crowd and among the diplomats and courtiers milling around on the stage on both sides-- what was happening? Where was he going? What did this mean? Was Wu pulling out of the negotiations? Was a trap about to be sprung? Perhaps Imperial Guardsmen, bayonets fixed, were advancing through the palace’s burnt-out corridors, ready to slaughter every Tuvan they met, or perhaps Wu rockets and shells were already soaring into the air from the batteries around the city before plummeting like stooping peregrines to obliterate the Tuvan empress and her generals where they sat.

As the Anfu Emperor swept regally from the room, surrounded by a coterie of guards, servants, and advisers, coalition diplomats and leaders on the stage looked briefly stricken. By their expressions, if there was some sort of plot, they were not in on it-- could Hangzhou’s treachery really run so deep as to allow the Ming emperor to be caught in the crossfire of some putsch? Or, even more unimaginably and terrifyingly, was that part of the goal of whatever was at play here? The guests in the galleries began getting to their feet, some jostling to hurry down from their seats, trying to get as far away as possible before bullets began to fly.

But as quickly as the disquiet had spread, so it seemed to be quelled. Wu palace officials bustled around the throne room, whispering to their colleagues and their counterparts on the other side of the stage-- the Emperor was simply tired, and retiring for the day. Negotiations would continue under the oversight of the Secretary Without Portfolio, while one of the Emperor’s body doubles would soon be in to ceremonially re-assume his place and ensure that appearances were maintained.

Two weeks later...

An agreement had been reached.

Two and a half weeks of talks, often lasting through the night, accompanied by screaming matches, underhanded schemes, and frenzied trips to and from Hangzhou and Chang’an, had produced a plan that left all dissatisfied, as any good compromise ought to. The Tuvans-- dissatisfied their aim of conquest had been thwarted and land conquered would be given to Wu and Ming. Northern and Southern Zhou alike-- dissatisfied that their homeland was doomed to be partitioned in three between Wu, Ming, and Qian. Ming-- dissatisfied they had sacrificed so many soldiers only to end up making a deal with the barbarians- and one that offered meager gains indeed. Wu-- dissatisfied that it had failed to fully roll back the barbarians, and anxious to placate those who had shed blood in support of its cause and now saw their efforts come to naught. Shu-- dissatisfied that it would seize no new lands and see no new gains, though tens of thousands of Shu mothers were now mourning sons slaughtered like animals on a distant battlefield.

And all were still dissatisfied-- save for a few diplomats who thought themselves very clever indeed-- with the agreement’s highest-profile and most surprising term: the planned marriage between Dan-Xayaa Khertek and Zhao Chang, unifying the thrones of Wu and Qian. So influential and illustrious was the term, so “concrete” in achieving the peace (in theory), that the diplomatic men who fashioned it would call themselves “saviors of China” within the battered hall in Kaifeng.

The marriage would take place in Kaifeng in only a month’s time-- an incomprehensibly short deadline for such a momentous imperial match-- and it would seal the deal. With their monarchs bound in matrimony, how could Wu and Qian, and their allies, ever come to blows again? The couple in question did not need to get along, or experience petty and selfish notions of love and attraction. This, the diplomats assured themselves, was bigger than all of them combined.

On the last evening of negotiations, Cao Caihou saluted Ping Pong with a cup of baijiu, a toast to the end of an arduous and hard-fought campaign on the field and over the table.

“To peace in our time.”

by **Alleniana** » Fri Jun 29, 2018 11:55 pm

越

四

And 'midst this tumult Kubla heard from afar,
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

- Kubla Khan, Samuel Taylor Coleridge

New Harbour, Johor, Johor Sultanate

It was afternoon when the junks rolled in. The harbour went into a panic, shouting and cursing, fleeing or coming to the waterfront to brandish their small arms. The shore batteries further out had failed, then. There were none in the city. It was illegal.

The ships paid no heed. They headed further in.

By the Yellow Palace, a musket line had formed up; a raggedy, loose thing. They fired a volley; a threedecker returned a volley. Those who were left scattered or crawled away.

The ships assembled on the foreshore of the sultan's residence, bristling with cannon. One sent another volley out as it sailed past the sultan's pleasure-boat. It sank in a minute. The boom punctuated the weak hue and cry like a war drum amidst revels.

Some command issued from some mast. There was a moment of silence.

The dozen or so ships exploded in a bloom of grey. The smoke-flowers blossomed, and out of them came their hard, black fruit.

The gilt sandstone facade of the palace tumbled to the ground, shattered. Already one could see into some of the rooms; velvet chairs, trophies of conquest and hunting, crystal tables.

The ships fired again, this time not in unison; a cacophony of cannonfire did not stop for some fifteen minutes.

When it was over, the Yellow Palace was no more.

The ships returned to the harbour. There, makeshift barricades had formed, little artillery pieces trotted out. "Yue Out", "Glory to God", "Long Live the Sultan" and such banners flew; if one looked closely, in some alleys one could see the fresh bodies of foreigners, recently lynched.

Most in the fleet did not notice. Battle, if it could be called that, lasted for another twenty minutes there. Someone tried rowing towards the warships with a boat full of gunpowder. He went up in a blaze.

"Surrender," someone called from the fleet, in Malay.

There was no reply.

The ships moved closer, to the piers, and purple-robed marines began disembarking to occupy the city.

This was what came of disobedience.

1848-04-02

Great Assembly Hall, Jyutdou Zau, Yue

"...the Qian must be destroyed!"

The hall burst out into angry babbles again, before the chairman for that day quietened them down again.

"Order! Order!"

He nodded to the white-bearded man with the wizened brown face.

"Peng, you have been very uncivil. Stop that."

The hall broke into commotion, but he was well-respected as grandfather of the house. He turned away from the red-faced councillor and the subject, and began his speech in earnest at a quiet.

"You, advocating for war, are too hotheaded by half. The last time Qian was at war, scarce any of us could walk and talk! Perhaps I could, but regardless, it was a long time ago. We may be so lucky to only see such a war every generation! Yes, ideally, we could have prevented it, but we are in the perfect nadir; there is that business of rectifying Johor (our ships are there now, yes?), and we have but scarcely weeks ago spent close to a third of the treasury on the People's Accords. Yes, yes, I am aware some of you object to that, but what is done is done, and we do not have the money, resources, attention or men to spare. Qian's military success is only further bad luck for us, and in any case, the Zhou could not have survived for long. No, friend, Taai, n-"

Another ripple of chatter, the speaker waited.

"I know this is a matter of great import. All of us are agitated at its implications for the future. But this state has survived by adapting to the great shifts in power, by riding them out and coming out stronger. To try and completely arrest such developments was never possible in the past, may not be possible now, and is in any case an inflexible attitude that will see the power we have built up frittered away. We ought to continue our policy of guarantees and alliances, and rather concentrate on them more, so that such an event will not occur again. It is lucky for us that both Wu and Shu stand against them; a man dead on either side of this war is one fewer available to attack us. Inglorious, I know, but we are pragmatists, are we not?"

He had the room's mood. Well, he thought he did. Perhaps he did. Perhaps he didn't.

"Hubei appears to be falling to Shu influence. Is that right? Yes, that's well. The Zhous are large; we shall guarantee or ally all those minor states who stand in the way of further expansion, there are fewer now. Yes, Qi is a sore point; but Korea, Min, we have good relations with, and we can build up with Shu and Yan. Ming... they... hmm. No, the Joseons are sturdy brethren to us. Regardless, I am of the opinion, essentially, that a coalition serves. Oh, apologies, chairman. Yes? Ah, no, you overestimate..."

1848-04-02

Naamjoeng Dock, Hungnaam Zau, Yue

He is here, because it was time for him to leave. No more industrial fumes, no more visions of blood, no more of walls and bureaucrats pressing in. No more.

He is here to make a fresh start. He is not poor. He is not a criminal, either; he is not infamous, or unholy, or shamed. No, this is his to do, his only, only because it was time for him to leave.

He had been told this land was burnt red, dry and dusty, a desert. Plainly it is not so; the clouds are a light grey, the landscape weltered long ago, ancient and foreign, open and bizarre, but green.

He steps off the ship onto land. This dock isn't dry, so he can't call it dry land, but it's made of bluestone and grit and land nonetheless. There is further to go before it is dry.

He will venture deep into the bowels of the red country, he will purchase land, he will set up a station. He will run with cattle and sheep and swing his head and see nothing, well, trees and bushes and red, red land, but nothing else.

Hungnaam is far from Jyutdou. Hungnaam is flatter than Jyutdou. Hungnaam is freer than Jyutdou.

No locks. No stocks. Most certainly, no barrels.

But it is a child, a tumour of it, nonetheless. It is time for him to leave.

So he steps into a tram with his bag, with all his possessions except everything else he owns.

Because, see, the irony is that despite wanting to escape the system, to get away from the feeling of moral reprehension he has at helping make the weapons that kill so very many, he is still no less responsible; anyone can make guns, maybe not quite as well as him which is why he was the lead gunsmith, but nonetheless he was only an interchangeable cog. One may argue that this still leaves one responsible, but that is not the point. In fact, the project he left has already concluded. It is a poignant image that in drilling the hole into the metal, he creates the cavity from which death springs, but he does no more than any farmer who feeds the soldier, carpenter who pegs a ship, accountant who counts the taxes. No, for when he holds the wealth from that pay in his bank account, when he walks the ground of a colony founded on the blood and bodies of its natives, that is reprehensible; the state is a machine that squeezes the blood out of people to fuel itself, and sometimes in the course of feeding itself it feeds its minions, and he is one such minion, and he has drunk the squeezed blood eagerly, bubbling, fresh, and that is why he can come here and walk into the emptiness and others cannot. He is in the system; he has moved away from the killing edge, but even a cog far away from the killing edge may be as vital to it as one closer.

Maybe he thinks this. Maybe it is even true.

Maybe he is ill.

Maybe it does not matter if he is ill, in the grand scheme of things. But this is his cure, or so he thinks.

So he rides a carriage into the Outback, buoyed and restrained by bank strings, sinews of the beast he won't look at.

He doesn't understand. He feels unwell. All he knows is that it is time for him to leave.

He fades into the burnished dust.

Oh, and he misses Maa Pin.

1848-04-02

Correspondence

To the Minister for Foreign Affairs of the Grand Duchy of Argentine,
From the Great Assembly of Yue,

The state of Yue is most interested in the development of ties with Argentina; it does seem that your nation has an abundance of raw resources, and less ability to exploit them than would be advantageous. Similarly, Yue is indeed capable of investment; the relationship seems well-fitted to us. We would be willing to negotiate the terms of an agreement; terms we would see include the protection of Yue investments from nationalisation, the abolition of tariffs against Yue goods, and some level of protection for those people of Yue (and its subjects) who might come to Argentina to live and work, as a result of this intercourse. If this seems agreeable, we would look forward to either dispatching a delegate, or welcoming your visitation; please advise us of which.

1848-04-02

To the Throne of Tibet,
From the Great Assembly of Yue,

The Assembly receives your communication with agreement. Your terms seem agreeable; in particular, the recent war between Qian and other powers on the continent demonstrate the great danger at play. With the guarantee that Yue investments will not be nationalised, and protection for those who go to Tibet, military and political advice can be dispatched. In addition, free trade should prove advantageous to both Tibet and Yue, as it has been for other countries in the world.

Let the world hear of this partnership.

1848-04-02

by **Zhukovian** » Thu Jul 05, 2018 7:59 am

Grand-Duché d'Argentine
March 1848

Palais de Bijoux, Bon Bélier

Reading the book about socialism, the Grand Duke was engulfed by the idea of a state own industry, and he was now thinking of plans to make the middle-class have a better development at the same time the improvement of the economy. Such an idea was seemingly impossible to be implemented, but more than anyone in the Grand Duch, he is the man who can really make a change on the national policy. Just as he turned to the other page, a knock was made on the other side of the oak door of his office. Given permission, General Bouchard, Chief of Staff of the Royal Armed Forces, entered and saluted to the Grand Duke.

"Your Grace, I bring a grave news, the hostile relationship between Brazil and Antarctique could soon result in an impending war in the next half a year. If that so happen, the would have a border with us, using it to bypass the mountains that have protected us up in the North. What I am proposing sir, is the quick invasion of Antarctique in a span of 3-4 months the least. Given our current military presence there, we could amass an army in a week or so and start the fast invasion. If we are to be successful then we could fortify the hills the borders Brazil."

Setting the book aside, Artois stared the General at the eye with a stern look, "Truly a grave message, your plan is quite good, but how can we be assured that the Brazilians would be contained given the nature of their military."

Taking the seat in front of the G. Duke he answered, "Well, we would have a detachment that would go to the northern border and start the construction of forts while our main group shall be attacking the southern region where the majority of their forces would be stationed."

Reclining on the back of his seat Jean folded his hands together and thought for a moment before looking at the General, "Very well, prepare the war council and I'll have the Privy Council draft the declaration of war."

Smirking with relief Bouchard gave the Grand Duke a fast salute before taking his leave.

Province de Rivière Noire, Marquis de la Terre Noire

Workers starting to build a railroad that would connect the inner contry to the coasts.

With the government spending on infrastructure and supported by local nobility and businesses, many projects have been started immediately, plus the incoming investment of Yue and France it would be projected to have a better infrastructure in the next five years. That being said, one the main projects have been started in the Province of Rivere Noire under the Marquess of de la Terre Noire. The Marquess' household is one of the many nobles who has heeded the Grand Duke's advice in participating in the infrastructure projects of the government.

Engineer Lambert Subercaseaux is the head engineer in the provincial projects of Riviere Noire, with the map and blueprint on his desks he has started plotting the route of the railroad and roads, and the locations of bridges. Sipping the steaming hot black coffee in the cold morning, he saw the arrival of some of his colleagues, waving at one, Engr. Stanislas Chausson the OIC on the Southern Grid walked in and said, "Monsieur, in the first month of job we have covered over 30 kilometers of roads, railroads, and bridges. These incoming foreign investments would greatly the construction rate of the projects nationally speaking."

Putting the cup down, Lambert smiled, "Indeed! This would really boost our national economy. But we must not do it too fast least we want is a scolding from the Headquarters in Bon Belier. The Ministry's instruction is clear: 'Do it fast but with efficiency'. If we do it too fast, we might not notice any problems shortening the lifespan of this projects. The current rate would be really increased if that money arrives soon, but it would just be used in making more projects in other provinces. Anyway, how is the rate in the south?"

Lighting and cigar and placing one tip on his mouth he said, "It is working like a well-oiled machine, no problems as of yet. This program does indeed make a lot of jobs and I believe factories could start popping up soon."

Without facing his colleague instead facing the construction workers starting the day he answered, "It is possible and indeed many people have been given jobs."

Palais de Bijoux, Bon Belier

General Bouchard has finally assembled the War Council for the Argentine-Antarctique War. With everyone except the Grand Duke already assembled in the War Room already planning for possible strategies and making strategams the room is filled with anxiousness and nervousness. As the noise is already is at its peak, the doubled door swung open and Jean walked in and all the could do is to give him a salute, "At Ease" he said, and the simultaneously lowered their hands and waited for General Bouchard to start the meeting.

Stepping forward to a large table in the middle of the room, he motioned to his aides to lay the battle map:

"Now with the war effort being prioritized, we could have an arsenal of 25 thousand men fighting for the war with a 5 thousand to protect the national security. Our army would be attacking the city of Salto with 15 thousand men, supported by heavy artillery and cavalry. After taking Salto, 10 thousand shall take Paysandu and the 5 thousand, mostly engineers, cavalry, and infantry shall take the northern border using an attack in detail strategy, the one used by General Napoleon in the Napoleonic Wars and a specialty of Gen. Thibaud Schaeffer of our very own army which he would be in-charged. After taking the first city, the engineers must then build a fortress indicated by a pentagon, in total we could have 6 major fortresses placed in that border.

The 10 thousand men in Paysandu shall serve an the beacon for the Antarctique Moths, once a full force of theirs shall moe towards it, then the real invasion shall begin. Starting with the naval bombardment of Montevideo and followed by the crossing of Rio de la Plata indicated by a red bar. A ten thousand elite men of heavy infantry, light artillery and cavalry under my command shall take the under-defended cities of the South until we arrive at the battered Montevideo. If everything would go to plan then we could have victory in 3-5 months."

A week later...

Outskirts of Salto

After the declaration of war just the day before, the 15 thousand men under the command of General Schaeffer started the siege of Salto that would spark the start of the Argentine-Antarctique War.

Gen. Schaeffer sat on top of his warhorse scoping the city in front of him, just then a runner came to him and saluted, "General! the bombardment of Salto has started. Major Chausson has initiated the first volley."

Keeping the scope to his pocket he faced the runner, "Very well, I do not want it to be really leveled as it would cost too much collateral damage. I want a fast efficient warfare against them, we have a schedule to follow!

"Ye-yes sir!" the soldier turned and rode back to the front lines.

by **Greater Redosia** » Thu Jul 05, 2018 8:00 am

The Papal States

Chapter 3: ...And of the Holy Spirit.....

March 27th, 1848
Papal States, Roma, Hospital of Saint John

Light was slowly falling inside the windows, crosses hanging on the walls and above the doorways. Many inside the ward laying on beds, family members beside them and doctors trying to treat them to the best of their abilities. One of these doctors was a special one, been so since the day he was born and when he went to Church. It was Bishop Thomas Borgia, he always had a history which he would like to keep hidden from others, though one other couldn't be so local about it all. Saint George leaned against the doorway, doctors and patients passing through him as if he wasn't even there.

"So tell me Father, what is it that you see in the Lord's work"

Thomas sighed, beginning to reply in quiet Latin. "Look, I have to focus on my work. Please come back another time."

"Oh but Father, you must bring change. Change that will come to you, even if you like it or not."

"Don't tell me such hopes, I can only but dream of doing such a thing. Joining my fellow brothers and a chance to become the Pope? Only a fantasy you wish to spread to me."

"I said no such thing of cardinals or Popes, that is on you Father. Ever been so since you went to church that day, when you saw me. When you were convinced that your path is the one with God. Now you are going to become one, one with his divine plan."

Thomas didn't understand what he meant, little people knew of him in the Knights Hospitaller, and even fewer outside it. Who would be looking for him? That question was quickly answered when several cardinals entered the room, whom Thomas lead to a more secluded room so they could speak in peace. Light still trickling into the room, the sounds of Roma could be heard from within the room.

"Bishop Thomas"

"Yes Brother?"

"You are to come with us to the Vatican, you are to be made a Cardinal of the Holy Roman Catholic Church."

Thomas was in shock, he couldn't believe that he was to be chosen as the next Cardinal in the College. It meant the Pope himself had seen his work, that the Pope must of chosen him. He couldn't refuse and as he began to follow the other Cardinals, it was his moment to believe it.

Several hours later

"I Thomas Borgia, Cardinal of the Holy Roman Church, promise and swear to be faithful henceforth and forever, while I live, to Christ and his Gospel, being constantly obedient to the Holy Roman Apostolic Church, to Blessed Peter in the person of the Supreme Pontiff Pius XI, and of his canonically elected Successors; to maintain communion with the Catholic Church always, in word and deed; not to reveal to any one what is confided to me in secret, nor to divulge what may bring harm or dishonor to Holy Church; to carry out with great diligence and faithfulness those tasks to which I am called by my service to the Church, in accord with the norms of the law. So help me Almighty God."

The now Cardinal Thomas smiled, seeing Saint George standing beside him. Though this mattered little to others on the far side of the Vatican, whom were huddled together along with two shady figures.

"We wish to work with you, for the better of both you and of the church. We simply wish you to attack the Papal Carriage as it begins to make its tour around the Papal State. The remaining portion of your payment will be given to you once you have finished."

The two looked at each other and leaned in, "So all we need to do is wound or kill him....I think that can be simple enough to do. We have the weapons, even a cannon. We'll see what we can do." The two leave, leaving the cardinals and bishops on their own.

"I cannot believe we are working with those....nationalists. We are committing sin and treason against our own faith!"

"Quiet! This is for the betterment of the Church, the current Pope is too weak, too giving. We must force our hands and choose a Warrior to guide us. That is why we convinced the Pope to choose Brother Thomas into the College, he has shown loyalty to the Church and was willing to fight for it. Volunteering himself a lone to launch a crusade to the holy land and joining the Knights."

"He is loved by the people, loved by us, and loved by our lord. He is simply perfect for our goals and oblivious to the inner works, he wouldn't see anything past it. He shall be the one who restores our might, to make it known to others that it is the Papacy that is the ones who shall rule the Earth for God's will and Kingdom!"

"We already have our enemies, the nationalists, the Ottomans, the heretics. All factors of unification, all factors of recognition, all factors within our favors. We cannot be weak when we must be strong, nor be patient when we need to take action. The Ottomans are weak, we can ride the wagon of other nations to obtain our goals."

"Indeed Brother, while we unite Italia against the heretical Provisional Republic to our North. We know that we have the support of Austria and France, as the Pope as told us. But under his leadership we will squander and waste the opportunity, patience is a virtue. But wasting away valuable time and allies is not."

"So it is agreed, we must force the Pope to step down. Through his death, or on his own. With some...help of course. The Lord knows best, so it seems he has tasked us to restore the path of the Holy Roman Church."

March 31st, 1848
Papal State, Roma, Vatican, Apostolic Palace

Pope Pius IX was sure that the State of the Church was capable of defending itself, the volunteers and the Noble Guards, along with the Swiss Guard. All were perfect soldiers in the name of the Church and God. But the times were changing the the nations' of the world are modernizing their armies. The Papal Army was under-equipped and disorganized, as well as small even though it had good salaries and chances of promotions to higher ranks. Pope Pius needed to do something, so he must take careful action when doing so.

Official Message of the Pope and State of the Church
To: Military Generals of the Papal Army
From: Pope Pius IX of the Holy Roman Catholic Church, ruling sovereign of the State of the Church
Topic: Military reformation and expansion

To those in charge of the protection of the State of the Church and of God's Kingdom on Earth. It is evident that we must begin our own initiatives to prepare ourselves in the evident invasion from possible powers. As well as the war with the Italian Provisional Republic, which is our main enemy upon this peninsula.

So I demand that the amount of soldiers be increased by another 5,000 able bodied Christian men, who will train and join the military and prepare to fight for the defense of the Church. Along with standardization of weaponry as to relieve the situation of supplies, training and reorganization of linguistic units and the basic training of a common language so that all may understand any orders given by you or your subordinates.

All must be prepared if war were to come to the State of the Church and any of its allies that come to aid us, especially the Italian Coalition against the Provisional Italian Republic. I also demand the expansion of the Swiss Guard to the number of 4,000, all must meet the requirements set by the Church. Send a further message to Switzerland for the men and pray that they accept even a partial amount.

I also request the construction of 6 Sloop-of-Wars that carry 16 guns each, for the defense of the sea against those who wish to do harm against the State of the Church. For our navy has been lacking and must be increased, do all of this and we shall be safe from those who act of their own will and those that act in the name of the devil.

signed by his holiness
Pope Pius IX

April 3rd, 1848
Ōtomo Clan Domain, Ōita

The castle of the Daimyo was quiet, the wind blew against the trees gently as it brought new scents from its origin. Ōtomo Sadamune looked out upon his domain, his name being the second in the Ōtomo line. Though all was not well and he saw it easily unlike the Shogun, the world was developing without them. The Chinese were heavily technologically advantaged, he knew that adopting the new era weaponry was the only way to bring his survival of his domain and of the Japanese culture.

Then entered one of the few Shinobi that were still around entered the room, bowing and sitting in front of the Daimyo. "I have brought further news from the Shogun's court. They are bringing further foreigners within, I have managed to copy several documents and messages. Just as you wished."

"Hm...so the Shogun is trying to..."

"No sir, not the Shogun. The Emperor. The Emperor is making the deals behind the Shogun's back."

This caught the Daimyo off guard, "So the Shogun has truly made himself weak, but the Emperor's moves alone cannot bring the survival of the nation. It is time for a new power to lead and modernize the nation, one that can practice their faith in the open and not be oppressed. For we have been planning this for many, many years."

The Shinobi continued to remain silent as the Daimyo spoke, "You see my invisible friend, we have sent agents silently preaching the faith throughout the island. We have been training our armies, adopting the technologies, and storing funds for quite some time. Once we spring our move, the other Daimyos will follow suit and rebel against the Shogun. In fact...we plan on attack the shogun as we speak...."

Edo, April 5th, 1848

It was time, the order was given and he was paid. Nothing else mattered, all he was told was to fire the rocket at the castle; then he could live his life as he saw fit. He grabbed the fire rocket and ran out to the streets, passing fellow peasants, traders, artisans, you name it. He saw others with the same fire rocket as his own, wondering if this was bigger than he once thought it was.

"Quick! We must fire before they stop us! Quickly!!" One of the others shouted.

He looked up at the castle, the Shogun resided within. Though it didn't matter because of how rich he would be once he was finished, after running several more steps he crouched down and aimed the rocket. It was all quiet by then, he saw the rocket fly into the air and over the walls of the once proud and untouchable castle. He saw many others as well, flying in every direction towards it. The crashing and following explosion was enough to tell that the rockets hit their mark, which caused him to drop it and he ran.

He never felt like running so fast and so far in his life, so much so he stole a horse from a merchant only got away faster. The countryside never looked like such a bastion like it did before, he was so close to freedom it was almost like it was heavenly. So very close to living a simple life with the ability to spend on what he wish for what he did. So close....just.....a bit...more....then silence as he felt a sharp pain in his back. Then another, and another, and another.... Then finally he was on the ground, looking at the fields in silence. Feeling that heavenly feeling before slowly drifting away, wondering if he was a the main show, or just a pawn for something much bigger than he could ever be.

Back in Rome, April 5th, 1848

Thomas was astounded, he couldn't stop walking around his room. He was happy, two days ago he was made a cardinal and now he was just another step closer. Though he needed answers, and he needed them now, "So Saint George, tell me, did you know that I was to be Cardinal?"

Saint George was sitting on the desk, swinging his legs back and forth, "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. One should never question the Lord's miracles. I thought you would know that best Father, you are a Cardinal after all."

The Cardinal giggled at that, "Oh I wish George, maybe if I'm Pope I can make that a rule to question miracles once in a while. Keep the Church strong, though I prefer if traditions are met."

George floated over and patted the Cardinal on the head, "Traditions are good, but they must be made flexible as to keep strong during times of crisis. I know that your part to play isn't over yet, I can fill your courage, your bravery, your chivalry pulsing through you. You are going to lead armies! You are going to lead the Armies of God against those that defy him! You! I see you being the head of the Catholic Church as the next Pope!!"

The Cardinal looked at the Saint in shock, falling to his knees. The Saint was gone and he was left to his own, a thin light shining through the window as the sun began to set. He felt enlightened, the experience and knowledge that Saint George has given him. He knew he was telling the truth, he was going to become the next Pope, he was to lead the Armies of God...But when? Where to? What was it that he was to lead them, what was it that he needed to do. In a time of turbulence action is needed. In a time of war, war is needed. In a time of both, a Warrior is needed. He was to be that warrior, a Warrior Cardinal....No....A Warrior Pope.

"Do not worry my Saint....I will follow in the Lord's light and fulfill what I have been sent to do..."

by **Alleniana** » Thu Jul 12, 2018 11:39 am

ALL THE NEWS UNDER HEAVEN
226^TH INTERNATIONAL EDITION
in this the Christian Year of 1848
on this day MOU NG 14^TH | JUNE 9^TH
WORLD'S LARGEST REPORTED GRAPE
The Archbishop of Urbino graciously accepted the unusual Montepulciano. FOURTH WAR OF QIAN EXPANSION ENDED BY WU MARRIAGE
It is reported by the representatives of the betrothed monarchs that this will secure peace for our time, despite the final demise of the Zhou state(s); the rest of China reacts to the royal wedding.
ABDULMEJID I DIES
The Ottoman Sultan expired after a short and unexpected illness; his court reports that the world is bereaved of his sprightly lute-playing. WAR IN THE FRENCH SOUTHERN CONE
War has broken out between the Argentine and Antarctica; tensions with Chile and Brazil rise, and the South American continent may find itself plunged into war.
LANDSLIDES AT TOUNGOO
Tremors and rains may have produced the collapse of hillsides, devastating sections of the old capital from whence the dynasty came, killing thousands. RESTIVE JAPAN
Conflict has broken out between and amidst the daimyos and the shogun; the Chrysanthemum Throne and foreign powers' reactions are yet unclear.
SPRINGTIME OF THE NATIONS SPREADS TO GERMANY
Pan-German nationalist sentiment has seen widespread upwelling, especially in major cities, inspired by events in neighbouring nations. EXPLOSIVE FACTORY EXPLODES
Over two dozen workers were killed in the tragedy on Taiwan, whereupon the plant was closed by investors because of danger, leaving no large-scale guncotton manufacturers anywhere in the world.
SHU COMMUNE
The government of the state of Shu saw food shortages and humiliation on the field of battle by the armies of Qian, and now seems to have ceased to exist, as revolutionaries have seized the Sichuan basin. SPREAD OF THE COTTON GIN
After the expiry of its patent earlier this year, it is here explored how the American invention, able to triple cotton output, has taken root across the world.
NINETEEN-HEADED BENGALI BABY
Locals have apparently begun worshipping the legendarily misformed infant, born in a largely Hindu border region of the Sultanate. CHOLERA OUTBREAK IN BRISTOL
The wrinkled hand has stretched across Great Britain once again, claiming thousands of lives, this time in the County of Bristol, focused on the eponymous major west-coast port-city.

by **The Palmetto** » Fri Jul 13, 2018 9:39 pm

Langsamland

To someone from the Hansa proper in Europe, Langsamland might as well have been an alien world. The population of about 200,000 or so was spread out across an island larger than any member state of the Hansa, in contrast to the mostly compact cities of the League. Instead of a few condensed cities, there was hundreds of small towns and plantations that dotted the landscape, with a few larger cities too. To make it even worse for any city dwellers from Europe, Langsamland was extremely hot and humid, and covered in tropical forests and burning hot beaches.

But to the native Langsamlanders, this was heaven on earth. Their ancestors had toiled to construct the churches to pray in, the farms in which grow to food, and the houses in which to live. Growing up, they played in the tropical forests no matter how hot or humid, and swam in the Caribbean sea surrounding the island. Langsamlanders were much more rural and traditionalist than the European Hansa cityslickers, and had their own values. Yet, they were not able to govern themselves, and this was a great source of discontent among the islands.

Saint John, Langsamland

Langsamland had no meaningful self-governance, and was almost entirely governed by the Colonial Governor, appointed by the Ministry of Colonial Affairs. Though most governors avoided abusing their power, the governors still had near-dictator levels of power. Though it had been tolerated at first, the last governor had been caught embezzling government and was fired by the MCA. They assured the people that if anything like this happened again they would just fire that governor, but, the trust in the government had been shaken.

Outside the Governor’s Building in Saint John, the streets were packed with natives of the colony passionately waving the Langsamland flag, even a few pan-German flags could be spotted. They weren’t asking for independence, as many people thought that too extreme. After all, they had usually had good relations with their European counterparts, some even embraced pan-Germanism across the continent, and most leaders of Langsamlander movements viewed independence as suicide due to their large neighbors in North America. At the end of the day, they just wanted to be able to rule themselves, and to do that, they needed to join the Hanseatic League as an official member state.

The upper class families which ruled the Hansa were conflicted at the thought of this. On one hand, the current style of government prevented any member state from legally dominating the others. However, Langsamland’s growing population and economy meant that it would outpace the members in Europe, and if their population and wealth grew so large that most of the Hansa soldiers, most of the Hansa money, and most of the Hansa navy were from Langsamland, they would have a lot of sway by simply threatening to leave whenever something didn’t go as they liked. Though the current consensus among them had been to push the problem ahead, they kept on running into it, and as pro-membership protests popped up in Europe, they knew that something would have to be done about this.

Lubeck

Speaking of those protests, Langsamlanders weren't the only ones getting uppity. Liberal thought was beginning to grow more popular among the people in the German Confederation as a whole, and many protestors were starting to organize in favor of pan-Germanism and more democratic forms of government. As such, many of the ruling class were alarmed at the idea of the lower classes rising up, or maybe even the German Confederation dissolving and the Hansa cities becoming a target for their larger neighbors. To address this, the Chancellor decided to try and sign an alliance with the British.

To Her Majesty Queen Victoria, of Great Britain, Ireland, and Columbia

Our nations have been naval powers in Europe for many centuries, having used our navies to fight the dreaded Napoleonic menace and keep peace in the precious trade routes of the world. We have also enjoyed amicable relations both in trade and politics, showing our interests align closely. We currently are experiencing anxiety in the government about the history of the Hansa, and as such, I wish to visit London to discuss the terms of our relations in Europe and the colonies, and more importantly, a potential alliance.

Signed, Chancellor Adolf Hetfield

by **Zhukovian** » Sat Jul 21, 2018 10:47 pm

Grand-Duché d'Argentine
June 1848

Paysandu, Antarctique

Fours months into the war, Paysandu has been successfully taken and heavily fortified to weather out the incoming 15 thousand man army of the Antarctiques. Currently, it is heavily baffled by the siege artillery of the enemy and the frequent skirmishes of the cavalry and infantry. Gen. Clovis Gachet the commanding officer of the 10,000 men army that is bracing onto the city is on one of the watchtowers of the city scoping the field filled by the fallen bodies of the men of both armies. In the early morning of June, the sun is starting to rise but his men are already ready for the final day until they launch a counterattack at the exhausted army camped at the skirts of the city.

Descending the stairs and riding to the front lines where the heavy artilleries are placed accompanied by men standing in attention, he adjusted his battle wear and motioned for the Sergeant to ready the men. Scoping the other side once more he sees the other army aligning into formations with the enemy cavalry placed in front, and the siege weapons readied at the back. With his hands behind him, he glanced down where his men are also forming, knowing that this day would be the bloodiest battle of the whole campaign he made a sign of the cross to the field and asking for the peace of the souls that would be left on the field after the battle. Noticing that the opposite army is already moving forward he motioned for the Sergeant and said, "45 degrees in my command." then raising his right hand.

Saluting before making an about face the Sergeant shouted, "Men! In my command! Augmenter 45 degrees! Écouvillon! Charge! ..." the Sergeant waiting for the signal and as the army marched within 600 meters, the motioned into a forward action. "FEU!" the Sergeant shouted and the cannons roared like thunder sending balls of iron to the field, blowing up the impending men and horses that unwaveringly charged without hesitation. Though the first volley only took a few lives and the survivors continued marching forward, an almost simultaneous shout of, "Forward! March!" and the line infantry marched forward led by 2 cavalry units, as the cavalry closed in they formed into a wedge formation, designed for the destruction of the box formation. Lowering the first frontier's morale, but this cavalry would just then be cut down by the heavy cavalry lancers of Antarctiques. The advancing army would also be shot down by the enemy artillery batteries at the back while the city walls are also bombarded by the Siege Cannons.

General Gachet already knows that they are outnumbered by 5,000 men and this is a major advantage for the Antarctiques. Thus, in the recent weeks, they have only relied on the protections of the walls of Paysandu. But he can't wait anymore and the Army of the North needs reinforcements if they are to successfully construct the 6 main fortresses along the Brazilian border. Scoping the field, he grinned upon seeing the standard of the general in front of him, knowing that if the field quarters of the enemy were to be captured, then they could change the tide of the battle. Calling for Colonel Azaïs he relayed a plan for a covert mission to take the general quarters at their rear, this move would pinch the enemy army from the behind. But the numbers are not on their side but then Colonel Azaïs suggested, "Sir, I believe what we really need is this general of theirs, if we are to capture him and his officers then the army would be brainless and tactless resulting to a fiasco, and that's the time when we finally pin them down. What we need is at least 500 men mostly cavalries and light infantry to travel at the back. Citing that the enemy is more focused at the front than the back just judging by the sheer size of the front linemen. The general's quarters would be less defended at the back and could mean that a backyard assault is needed t0 take his head." Turning to the field the General nodded and turned to the young man, very well Colonel... Please do not die out there, you may select the best and stealthy men to participate in this mission." And the Colonel saluted and about to walk away the General gave a last reminder, "Remember! This mission will determine the outcome of the battle today."

Tacuarembo, Antarctique

After taking Artigas during the first month of the war the two fortresses that were planned to be made on its region has already been started constructing. Marching for two weeks, the light Army of the North took the city of Tacuarembo with a great resistance of the Northern Antarctiques Army and its militia. But after a week of the siege of the city, they finally surrendered but with great casualty. To complete their mission up here in the north, he must get Rivera before getting to Melo, so far Rivera just fell and the construction of the additional 2 fortresses has been started. Because of the frequent construction of the forts and the casualties in taking Tacuarembo, he is forced to regroup first in the city and start marching to take Melo which is now defended by at least 2,000 men compared to his 3,500. Though he has the numerical advantage the Grand Range that protects Melo from the Region of Tacuarembo could be used for guerrilla warfare which is not a good situation of ever it is to become the truth. To prevent this from happening he sent scouts in the Range and start making a pathway for their army to passed easily and look out for the Antarctiques Army if they so ever chose to rely on guerrilla warfare.

Sitting on top his warhorse Gen. Schaeffer led the army in crossing the Grande Lame, and unto the city of Melo. But as the exit the forest he is welcomed by an army of over a thousand men seemingly waiting for the Argentine Army to go out of the forest cover and bring them death. Luckily for him, they have not went waited in the forest as it would be more devastating and lead to his retreat back to Tacuarembo. Looking that they are on top he motioned for the cavalry to fall in and Charge forming a wedge to smash the wall of flesh of the men below, taking his time to think as to why they chose to be below...

Looking down at the dead bodies below them, the nearest of them were due to the momentum built by the descending cavalry unit and crushing the men below them. As more men flow out of the passage, he ordered for the army to descend and once and for all march towards Melo and finally finish his Northern Campaign and build the other 2 two forts to complete the defensive maneuvers against an aggressive Brazil.

Knowing that Melo is less defended now that over 600 men have fallen while 400 retreated to Melo or deserted, he made haste to get Melo the soonest possible.

Outskirts of Montevideo, Antarctique

The air is already filled with the smell of gunpowder and blood as the Siege of Montevideo continued in the afternoon of the Hot June.

Three months ago, the moment the 15,000 men army of the Antarctiques the River of St. Salvador, Elite Southern Army under General Bouchard crossed Rio de Plata and swiftly conquered the Southern cities and finally arrived at the outskirts of Montevideo. The city, which has already been bombarded by the naval blockade imposed against it, is still proving to be a stronghold of Antarctique. After a week of siege and still no progress the General grew impatient and increased the firepower of the ships and plan for the implementation of a Forlorn Hope.

Starting that day, the cannons are to fire on a specific area of the wall while the ships are to slowly close-in the city and bombard more offices that are deemed as military command posts. It lasted for 2 days and finally the wall has fallen and many buildings have been leveled.

Sending Captain Dupont to lead the Forlorn Hope, he waited for the man to clear the entrance to the city. Sitting on top his horse, he scoped the cavalry unit as it charged to the broken wall and tried to cut an entrance to the city, while they were charging a few men have fallen and some were injured and taken back to the camp by their colleagues lowering the charging troop number. As the Captain went into the entrance fighting the posted soldiers at the front, two grenadier units have been sent to reinforce Captain Dupont's men. The entrance was covered by dust and smoke making it hard for the people in the camo to truly see what is happening in the entrance whether or not they have succeeded. As the grenadier units arrived at the mouth and fired a volley to the enemy soldiers, it is finally clear that Captain Dupont has succeeded and with the word of that spread to the whole camp. The entire army has been mobilized to move forward and take Montevideo, while 5,000 men were sent to flank the armies against General Gachet and another 5,000 sent to reinforce the efforts of General Schaeffer in the north. leaving roughly 3,000 men to take and hold Montevideo.

Bon Belier, Argentine

- With the success made by the Grand Duke's efforts to make Argentine a regional power and an economic powerhouse of the South, many have petitioned for the promotion of the top noble family of the House Artois and the official Royal Family of Argentine, making the Grand Duke as the King of the Kingdom of Argentine. Such petition has not been ignored by the House of Lords and has been debated for the past weeks. Finally, after weeks of debate in the House of Lords' Building, they have agreed that if so ever that the Argentine was to win the war against Antarctique, the Grand Duchy would become a Kingdom. So it all falls for the victory of the campaign to determine the future of the legacy of the House Artois.

- In other topics, the Minister for Economy has passed a series of economic reforms from tax reforms to the proper spending of the budget. This has caused the economy of Argentine to slowly rise and it is expected to boom once the railway system has been completed. It would give access to the mineral-rich and agricultural fields of the inner country to the coast which would boost the economic output and shorten the length of commuting for both passengers and goods.

- An Argentine Delegation headed by the Minister for Foreign Affairs of the Grand Duchy has been sent to the State of Yue to discuss the future of both countries.

by **Intermountain States** » Mon Jul 23, 2018 2:37 am

March 28th, 1848
Hanseong, Joseon

Wang Jun-min opened the crate on the table and took out a newly designed rifle to show to the Prime Minister. "These rifles were sent in by Silla Arsenal as a licensed copy of the Mushin Repeater from Monglung Arsenal in Yue," the Defense Minister said. He walked to the targeting range and fired the new gun. After discharging the rifle, he reloaded through the back of the rifle and in ten seconds, he fired off a second round.

"The Mushin Rifle operates a breech loading mechanism that allows for fast loading compared to muzzle loading rifles," Jun-min continued. "Rate of fire for this rifle is around six to eight rounds per minute for a trained soldier, more than double the three rounds per minute fired with our current Model 3s."

"These new rifles also have longer effective range than our service rifles," the Minister added. "It will also be far safer and take less time to train recruits on handling these rifles. Now it's not a perfect rifle. It still requires cleaning and repairs after multiple use to ensure its effectiveness in the battlefield."

"Our soldiers are already trained to clean their weapons so that wouldn't be much of an issue," the Prime Minister said.
"However, with our current industrial strength, it will take us a few more years before every unit replace their Model threes with the repeaters."

"We could arm selected units with these rifles," Jun-min answered. "We could provide these repeaters to our palace guards and certain units of our border forces. Since these rifles have longer ranges compared to our Model 3s, we could also have designated snipers of a squad to use them."

"That is an excellent plan," the Prime Minister responded. "The Emperor will definitely like this new development in the Imperial armament."

"I better watch out or else I'd be replace by you as the Prime Minister with all of your accomplishments," he joked. Jun-min chuckled at the Prime Minister's quip.

April 7th, 1848
Tsushima Strait

"Captain, you need to see this," Yi Jung-mo said as he entered Hwan Gil-su's office.

"What's going on Lieutenant?" Gil-su asked, standing from his desk. The lieutenant lead the captain to the port of the ship to see a small boat containing eight people, only two being men while the rest were women and children. One of the male passenger of the boat was shouting in Japanese.

"Get Kanemori," Gil-su ordered as Nogami Kanemori, a Tsushiman sailor, headed to the captain. "Can you translate what that man is saying?" Gil-su asked.

After a few seconds of hearing the crying man's words, Kanemori turned to Gil-su. "The Shogun is dead and they're looking for help. They've been without food or water for days and they've lost friends and family members to pirates and bandits."

"The Shogun being dead could possibly explain the increase in pirate attacks," Gim Ki-han suggested. "The collapse in the central authority would intensify the conflict."

"This could be a trap," Seo Jang-yup retorted. "We've encountered pirates pretending to be shipwrecked survivors or fishermen to get into our vessels."

"These are mostly kids and women on a small boat," Kanemori protested. "There is no way for bandits to be hiding under their glorified rafts to attack us. Even the two men rowing the boat look weak from a lack of nutrition. Captain, we must let these refugees on board. I'll give up my quarter for them to sleep in."

"Bring those refugees on board," Gil-su commanded. "Ensure that they'll be warmed and fed. They'll be under our care until we resupply at Tsushima."

"Thank you Captain," Kanemori said as the sailors rolled down a large rope ladder for the refugees to climb on. The refugees on board started thanking the soldiers in Japanese while sailors wrapped them with towels and handed them riceballs and warm cups of tea.

"What do we do with the refugees once we're at Tsushima?" Jung-mo asked Gil-su, viewing the interactions from afar.

"Kanemori volunteered to let the refugees spend a few nights at his home," Gil-su answered. "His house is big enough to shelter these poor souls and it's better for the refugees to interact with a man of similar culture than with armed foreigners."

by **Jaslandia** » Wed Jul 25, 2018 2:01 pm

Kingdom of Bohemia, Moravia, and Silesia

Prague Castle, Prague, Bohemia
April 1, 1848

A month had passed since the Bohemian revolution, and the new government was settling into its duties. The new King Maximilian quickly gained popular support, and with the cooperation of the National Diet, committed to a variety of liberal reforms that his father would have balked at. The people were satisfied with this, especially the Czech middle class and nobility who were gaining increasing access to top-level government positions (which had once been held primarily by Germans). The German nobility were of course unhappy about losing their government positions and privileged social positions, but many of them simply moved to Silesia, where Germans were still dominant in government and many of the German nobility had large estates. The new Bohemian government seemed to be coming along quite nicely.

Or, at least that’s how it seemed. Others were less sure of this rebellion, including the Bohemians’ occasional friend the British. It was early morning, and King Maximilian had just finished breakfast and entered the throne room when a messenger presented a letter to the King.

“What does it say, Your Majesty?” Foreign Minister Prince František z Colloredo-Mansfeldové asked.

“It’s Britain,” Maximilian explained. “It appears our recent revolution, bloodless though it may be, has rattled them. They said they remain committed to friendship between our two nations, but they wish to send an additional official to monitor the situation in Bohemia and elsewhere.”

“They’re probably talking about the other German states as well as us,” Chancellor Ferdinand Joseph z Lobkowicz said. “From what I understand, the other German states having their own issues with unrest.”

“Indeed,” Maximilian replied. “With that in mind, I believe we should accept their request. As long as we make it clear that this delegate is only an observer; we don’t want them meddling in internal Bohemian affairs.”

“Of course,” Foreign Minister Colloredo-Mansfeldové affirmed. “I shall work on a response right away.”

“No need,” the King interjected. “I shall do it myself. The letter was addressed to me, and in light of British worries, I think it is only fair I respond to their letter personally.”

The Foreign Minister nodded. Chancellor Lobkowicz spoke up. “One more thing, Your Majesty,” Lobkowicz said. “We received news from France. They’ve elected Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte as their new leader with emergency powers. Our sources believe he will be liberal and reformist.”

“Much like the new Bohemia,” King Maximilian replied. “This is good news. I shall send a letter of congratulations to this French leader, and extend my hand in friendship toward him.”

“Tentatively, though,” Colloredo-Mansfeldové suggested. “We should keep an eye on France. Their interests may not align with ours, and I fear formally partnering with France could attract the hostility of our more conservative German neighbors Austria and Saxony.”

Maximilian nodded. “You are right. Very well. I shall be careful in my wording, avoiding any talk of a formal alliance. Let’s see how this goes before we fully commit ourselves to France.”

by **Lan Khao Xang Hom Krung Tai** » Mon Aug 06, 2018 5:17 pm

大扶桑共和國
The Grand Republic of Fusang

May 1848
Dajing, Jinshan, Grand Republic of Fusang

Lian Dunchu, Chancellor-Premier of the Republic and benevolent leader of all under the rule of Fusang, sat around a map detailing the many territories of the continent. The great expanse eastward from the territory that is Fusang, looked upon as the territory that the illustrious civilisation should encompass. Or at least was the thought of the Premier and his fellow leaders.

Upon the map, red flags dotted the continent, most outside the boundaries of Fusang and within the ungoverned territories. Territories soon to be civilised by the men and women of Fusang.

"The Hudson Bay territory is something we should look to acquire, Chancellor-Premier. Other than a future stronghold for further expansion, it gives us a nice route to take trade to the east and for the resources to be taken back west." were the words of his aide.

"I do not know about the northern lands, but how sure are we to take the most advantage of it?"

"With surveyors and perhaps documents we may bargain or inherit. We will be able to make full use of the lands. By your word, I will have a letter sent to the Scandinavian governmental body."

"Yes, by all means. And make it known that there is contest for the Ungoverned Territories between here and the Scandinavian Bay." The Premier continued, looking around at the large map, particularly to the area directly east of Fusang, the Sioux Nation and the Free Kansas Territory. "Sioux and Kansas are also in the way of our westward expansion..."

"Hmm? Oh, them?" the aide was caught off guard, still on the thoughts of the Hudson territory. "Sioux are expected to be dealt with easily, I suppose. Tribal nomads. I suppose the trouble comes with the Kansas State. They may put up a stiffer resistance to any attempts to exert influence over them." he continued.

"Do you suppose we can have our peoples set out to claim the lands and settle upon them?"

"I don't see why not. The only thing I can foresee is conflict between our peoples and theirs."

"I suppose so. If they do dare attack our settlers, then we must pacify them ourselves, under the might of Fusang. Speaking of which... I would like to know of the current status of our armories and armorers."

"Currently, the Dajing Arsenal is working to create very nice rifles and handguns with a kind of self contained paper cartridge to match. From what the Minister of Works and the Minister of War tells me, these are to be very good weapons. The interest of our frontiersmen who will have to face those barbarians from a distance were in mind. Accurate and easier to load than most our weapons."

"Is that so? Very good then. Perhaps they can join us in some shooting then?"

"Perhaps so sir, but only the handguns. It seems the rifle will take quite a bit longer for it to be adequately developed, they tell me."

June 1848
Pushan. Grand Republic of Fusang

Within the territories of Pushan, a wagon train of Fusang men and women readied to set off east into the Nomad Territories, also known as the Sioux Nation to some. Men and women of all backgrounds came around to make the journey. Soldiers and peasants alike were poised to travel and settle the east. The purpose of settling the land for the nation was one of hard labor, but would be hopefully fulfilling.

Under the promises of large sums of money and lessened taxes, these men and women of Fusang were persuaded to settle along the frontiers, and if they dared, farther into what was recognized as Sioux. One such man, Yang Xiuying, took to this call. Formerly a fieldworker, now with enough money for him and his wife to make a new life as one of the those headed east with the wagon train.

Telegrams

Addressed to the Foreign Ministy of the Government of the Kingdom of Scandinavia
From the Ministry of Rites of the Government of the Grand Republic of Fusang
On the subject of the Hudson Bay Territory

May this message find you well and in good health.

It is with respect that the Grand Republic of Fusang comes towards the Kingdom of Scandinavia in the proposal for the Grand Republic to purchase the Hudson Bay territory. In hopes for the positive growth for the republic, the Hudson Bay territory is one that the Grand Republic has humbly set as a possible venture into such a world. The Grand Republic of Fusang offers a sum of eight and a half million yuan to secure the purchase the Hudson Bay Territory, willing to negotiate many other details in person to facilitate a deal.

Sincerely,
Li Wuxing
Minister of Rites of the Grand Republic of Fusang

by **Zhukovian** » Fri Aug 17, 2018 11:14 pm

Grand-Duché d'Argentine
July 1848

Montevideo, Antarctique

After it's fall a week prior, many military units of Antarticque have surrendered their equipment and the general leading the main force in Paysandu, General Gaspard Monteil personally surrendered his sword to General Gachet and went to Montevideo for the signing of the Treaty of Montevideo.

The first batch carriages to arrive in front of the Capitol were the carriages carrying the leaders of Antarctique, the two Generals and the President of the Republic, Mr. Clément Prudhomme. Followed by the carriages of the Argentine Generals led by Marshal Bouchard the Chief of Staff of the Argentine Royal Armed Forces. And finally, the carriage of the Grand Duke arrived, stepping out he surveyed the building and its surroundings, already imagining the creation of a duchy and three more earldoms under it. Ascending the stairs to the entrance of the building, he stood in front of the double doors as his attendants pushed it and he walked inside after giving a complimentary nod to the assistants. Passing through the former halls of power of the Republic, he finally arrived at the main hall where the rest of the signees are present. Smiling at them, he walked towards his seat at the end of the table and waited for the presentation of the treaty.

An attendee came inside carrying the papers of the treaty and presented to copies to the people present. Reading the treaty he can summarize thee main objectives:

Smiling, Artois signed the document and passed it to his seatmate which would then sign above his name on the document. After the has been signed by the two leaders of the war, the two of them stood up and shook each other's hand firmly. The now pale former President walked like a zombie towards the exit before being called by the Grand Duke himself, turning back he faced his new monarch. Smiling triumphantly he said, "Monsieur Prudhomme, your men fought with valor and nationalism. And I see that you have transformed the country for the better. I might offer you a position as an advisor for Minister of State, as I need the people of Antarticque on my side if we are to really improve Antarticque."

Clement seemed insulted, "Your Majesty, please forgive if I sound rude but it is as if you are telling me that we are unable to fend for ourselves? And how came that you have thought I would defect to your government after being defeated, I am not power hungry." Artois' smile was long gone, "Well, it is not that, what I am targeting is not just gaining new land but to defend against the Brazilians. Allying you would not be possible given our past of distrust and I cannot let the Brazilians take you and eventually attacks. Plus, we have more in common than the English Dog of the North. But if you are really not going to accept my offer then you can fend for yourself, remember your former Capitol is always open if you ever want to help improve your nation."

Bon Belier, Argentine

With the official fall of the Republic of Antarctique, according to the agreed resolution by the House of Lords, the House Artois shall be promoted to royalty making Jean-Noël Artois as the King of the Kingdom of Argentine. Three days after the declaration of the Treaty of Montevideo, the Basilique de Saint Nicolas is now filled by people mostly nobles and statesmen with some businessmen and ordinary people, it shall be the day that the Grand Duchy shall be promoted to a Kingdom.

Now that the Basilica has been filled, the carriage carrying the Grand Duke has arrived below the entrance, walking out in his Grand Duke's robes he ascended the stairs and walked the red carpet to the altar and sat on his throne. With the Archbishop of the Basilica, Cardinal Jules Alarie already blessing the new crown, scepter and royal robes, he walked right at the back of the sitting Duke and proclaimed for the start of the ceremony. The Grand Duke stood up, faced the Cardinal kneeling, the Cardinal placed his hand on the Grand Duke's head and gave a prayer in Latin. One of the Bishops assisting him gave the crown, and the Cardinal placed it on the head of Artois, he also received the scepter and robes, and finally, the Cardinal held the sword and tap the shoulder and head of the Grand Duke, formally proclaiming him as the King of the Kingdom of Argentine. With the crowd cheering for the success of this historic event.

The same day that the Kingdom has been proclaimed, the three main railways that connect the coast to the inner provinces have already been completed, with the minor ones to slowly started. The renovation of Antarctique has also been started, the decision to minimize the destruction of infrastructure has proven beneficial, as it has saved the government money to renovate those.

State of Yue

During his three days of stay in the State of Yue, talking with his Yue counterpart and even the chance of talking with the Prince. Count Grégoire Ballesdens, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, has successfully sealed a deal with the Yue, which can potentially boost the Argentine's regional presence. Now boarding a steamboat that would take him straight to Argentina, sitting inside his room he opened the signed papers an read:

by **Intermountain States** » Thu Aug 23, 2018 12:25 am

April 9th, 1848
Tsushima Island

"The chaos in Japan has gotten worse, I'm afraid," Lord So Yoshiyori said to Joseon Ambassador Yi Bunseo while the two men were having tea. "Before, the Shogun was able to exercise some level of control over the warring daimyos and made effort to police the naval seas."

"Now," Yoshiyori added, "Any form of central authority collapsed when the Shogun's home in Edo was demolished. Now longer beholden to their overlord, many daimyos are fighting each other. Pirates and brigands are flourishing with rogue soldiers plundering the sea and villages. I do not know when the successor will re-establish order but a chaotic place would be bad for my people."

"Right now, Joseon has been focused on strengthening the borders against the Mongols so the situation down south is only an afterthought," Bunseo said. "The civil war in Japan would threathen livelihoods of merchants but our current methods of naval patrols do seem to work for now, traders aren't complaining as much now that our ships managed to route the pirates."

"That is true but what about the refugees?" Yoshiyori asked. "I have reports by Tsushiman and Joseon ships about encountering boats with refugees. While Tsushima has established a policy of taking in refugees from the conflict, we can't afford to accept every refugees dropped off by sailors. We need to do something about the instability in the cursed islands."

"I'll see what I can do about getting the Imperial Court to accept some more refugees," Bunseo said. "But accepting refugees only feel like a short time answer to a problem that's been going on for a while. What we need is to ensure stability in Japan, accepting people fleeing the crisis would run into risks of brigands and pirates pretending to be refugees and causing chaos, although I believe that Joseon would be better suited in handling the refugees for now."

"While this island has yet to be invaded by any pirates or vengeful clans, I do have soldiers at the ready for defense," the Tsushiman lord added. "The civil war has worried many of my people, especially those who rely on trade with Japan. I hope an answer can arrive as soon as possible."

"I hope for an answer as well," Bunseo responded. "But the only answer we have to this is if Joseon intervenes in the civil war but that's opening a whole new can of worms and it might make the situation worse. At the same time, however, Joseon could have the power to establish safe zones and to support the Shogun. We'll think of something to mitigate this damage, I'm sure of that."

June 11th, 1848
Hanseong

"This is grave news," Yi Geol expressed to the Border Defense Council. "The war in which the Wu-lead coalition had declared to stop the Mongol's conquests had ended with a royal marriage between Wu and Qian."

"A marriage between two sovereigns would mean a political union and practically an alliance," Councillor Yi Chung-hoon said. "Already such a union between two empires would create a powerful force that will change the geopolitics of this region."

"We banked on the Qian lacking a strong navy, meaning that if war breaks out between Joseon and the Tuvans, we could evacuate civilians and members of the imperial family to nearby islands and Ganghwa where the Mongols couldn't reach them," Jun-min stated. "However, Wu, despite its prestige as a land power compared to Yue and Min, does have a decent navy and their alliance with the Mongols would make strong force to reckon with in both the land and the sea."

"If we don't want to end up like the Zhous or the Shu, then we must be open to improving diplomatic relations with the Qian Khanate," Councillor Kim Sung-un said. "We do not have the manpower nor the industry to call for war with the Wu-Qian alliance and we must think of the lives of our people. If not an alliance, we should focus on friendly relations with the Qians to have a domestic focus."

"Are you suggesting that we give in and kowtow to a barbarian queen as a master of the continent?" Councillor Bak Dae-ho snapped. "I think we are underestimating Joseon's strength. We are transitioning to more advanced rifles for the soldiers, we are improving upon anti-personnel weapons that will shred the barbarian horsemen. Our soldiers are patriotic and our people have formed righteous militias to repel barbarian invaders in the past. Let us also not forget our strong allies such as Yue and Min or the successful efforts of Defense Minister Wang Jun-min in improving our navy. We must show our strength and give a clear message to the Mongols."

"And give the Qians a reason to see us as a potential threat and work towards our demise?" Sung-un responded. "May I remind you that we cannot hope to match their military in size and experience. It will be like the Mongol Invasion of Goryeo many centuries back and we all know what happened. We must consider the livelihood of our subjects, they'll be the ones affected by rash decisions."

"While we shouldn't actively antagonize the barbarians, I wouldn't say that we should be chummy with them," Myeonggyeong said. "We should cooperate with our allies while not setting up some sort of international tensions between Joseon and a much larger neighbor."

"We should ensure that the soldiers all over the country are receiving ample training and supplies but preparing for war should not be the focus of this government for now. We are not in a position to be belligerant with the barbarians. With that, this council is dismissed," the Prime Minister added as the court officials left the room, some leaving in a huff while others grumbled about current foreign affairs.

by **Military Lands of the Scottish People** » Sun Aug 26, 2018 4:49 pm

Tunisia, French North Africa
Following French mobilization and an intent to boost its military strength and it's numbers, amnesty was offered to criminals and pirates from North Africa, in return, they were to serve 5-15 years in the French Military depending on their crimes. This was met with general approval as it removed quite a few vagrants and criminals from the region. They received little to no pay, basically just spending money to have in whatever town or camp they were in, strict rules and a very heavy martial presence, basic meals, and modest housing. It was a very cheap way to recruit, and as such it produced a very cheap army. Several units, however, seemed to be somewhat useable for actual campaigns, such as the 52nd Infantry Demibrigade, around 2,000 men most of whom were ex pirates. They have performed, drill wise, poorly but are exceptionally able when it comes to their duties. They have been noted by the North African command for exceptional response times, obedience (for the most part), and their cooperation with the Navy

Beyrouth, Syria
Earlier in the year a French merchant vessel was captured by Ottoman Authorities under the assumption that it was a Maltese/Italian Pirate ship. The ship, La Magnifique, was a large merchant ship with around 20 guns and 73 crew, intended for Oriental trading. In fact, the shipping manifest saw it leave from Goa in India, to Mombasa in Africa, then to the Cape Town in South Africa, and then to Beyrouth in Ottoman Syria. They were trading spices, weapons, pelts, and tools however by the end of the trip they simply only had Spices and weapons to sell as they could not sell them in Mombasa. However due to this and the large sum of money they had, it was easily assumed that they were just pirates attempting to dock as merchants.

Months went by as news spread slowly about the interned ship. The Ottoman high authority did notice something along those lines however they did not look into the specifics as it wasn't the first time a Pirate ship was detained and definitely wasn't going to be the last. For the merchants, they had lost their manifest in Corsica and were unable to get ahold of their contact in Syria who had just left for Arabia (who comes around every other 6 months or so to pick up deliveries). For France, as these months passed, Louis-Napoleon saw opportunity to gather even more support.

Louis-Napoleon had a group of militia of young men who descended from the older Imperial Guard. Under the name of the “Vieux Aigles”, or Old Eagles, this group numbered approximately 4,392. Some of these had attempted to support him during his attempted Coup in Leon, where he failed. Using personal connections and his own wealth, he armed the unit (who was at the time simply a glorified hunting club) and uniformed it to match current French uniforms. This was new and somewhat bizarre for the young men, but luckily found it much more illustrious and what they were originally hoping for.

Brigadier General Charles-Marie-Napoléon de Beaufort d'Hautpoul, who was in Algeria at the time, was in contact with Louis-Napoleon. He was anxious that the National Assembly would forget about the men captured in Syria. Luckily, Louis-Napoleon spoke otherwise. Convincing his superior to be given a temporary break, Louis-Napoleon then spoke to him about becoming the commander of the Vieux Aigles after his plea to the National Assembly for action. So, by April, he had convinced the General to, while he was on his vacation, take command of the group. Almost immediately developing a connection to them, (following his constant drilling, competitions, and practices) he wrote to Louis-Napoleon that “...without a doubt, the elegance and magnificent manner in which these men act and most certainly operate will be best utilized in the Beyr(outh) situation…”

Louis-Napoleon, excited by the news, began a campaign in the National Assembly and by the beginning of May, and he had gained popular support for a campaign.

Incredibly, though radicals claim this is leading to imperialism within France once more, the National Assembly permitted it and allowed it to use French colors. Charles Beaufort d’Hautpoul then led the force of 4,000 men to the City. Utilizing symbolism, the old Imperial Eagles were adorned on their standards and ships. They were rather popular, specifically more so in the South. Many reporters romanticised the unit, bringing national fame to the formerly quiet group.

Leaving from Marseille in the middle of May, singing the La Marseillaise, the group went from there to Corsica, to Tunis, then to Beyrouth. By the beginning the June, they had arrived to the port city of Beyrouth. The Ottoman forces in the area were relatively small, only three sloops were in the area and a company of troops in the region, the French forces landed and demanded the prisoners be released. Miscommunication caused a light skirmish where the Ottoman sloops were seized with tens of wounded on each side, eventually leading to 12 french dead and 17 Ottoman sailors dead. Engineers used the sloops guns to be used as artillery pieces. The force had effectively occupied Beyrouth, finding out that the prisoners were further North, in Tripoli. A small campaign of half the force marched north, arriving a day and a half after they landed. A skirmish occurred with several hundred Ottoman Forces, local police, and militia. The forces engaged with much more casualties than before, with the hundred man force being shortly overwhelmed. Luckily, before the French were overwhelmed and destroyed, a ceasefire was called. Almost miraculously, Charles managed to figure out each other's issues. The French, losing 42 men and 93 wounded (only 22 were not injured) compared to the 107 Ottoman deaths.

The French left with the crew (whose ship was sold off into the Ottoman Navy) and the Ottoman sloops. Those who died(about 87 were dead) were taken back in the sloops. Once the fleet returned to Marseille, they were treated as hero's. The merchant Captain Henri Poe, convinced to lie after being paid off by Louis-Napoleon, stated the crew was likely to be sold into slavery. Using this, many demanded action against the Ottomans after the Captain insinuated smaller ships in general have been taken throughout the past decade (though with no actual evidence) and stated that Ottoman Piracy was ramping up. Louis-Napoleon used this to rally the Assembly to issue an ultimatum demanding a vast payment, unrealistic payment and that Beyrouth be ceded to France by the end of the Year or the Navy will take action. The standard of the group also has “Beyrouth, 1848” on it now, in old Imperial fashion.

Savoy, beginning of June

Louis-Napoleon had been closely examining the events going on in Northern Italy and the revolution it had undergone. He had also seen the extremely hostile relations from Austria and it's very aggressive stance, attacking the Pope and annexing most of its neighbors. He had many calling for the French to support it but he saw something worse to come from it, where France would lose too much and gain so little. He instead saw profit and a way to mend relations in fighting them.

Utilizing conservative elements of France and his supporters, he organized support from both the domestic and military base. Utilizing his executive power, and support, he ordered the invasion of Italy, primarily on the border regions of Savoy and Nice. There was reactions throughout the National Assembly, some applauding him while others demanded his resignation and even imprisonment for overstepping his power.

Napoleon decided to address the National Assembly and France. Dressed in his casual wear he entered the Palais Bourbon. The National Assembly was hushed as he went to the center.

”Good Evening respected Deputies of the Assembly. As many of you are aware, and as many of you were discussing prior to my arrival, I have undertaken a sequence of actions against what is I shall henceforth refer to as the Radical Mob of Milan. Many of you may be in line with these militants and disturbers of the peace, whether in a matter of politics or perhaps your personal ideals. Nevertheless this group, under leadership from Giuseppe Garibaldi has been proven as one characterized by the use of terror and malice towards all powers abroad the Peninsula. What I ask you, members of this Assembly, is to see beyond what they seem to be and what they say they are. They preach unification but have divided the peninsula exponentially between Nationalist, Republicans, Liberals, and Traditionalists abroad. The so called Republic only intention is to destroy our neighbors, both friendly and hostile, under the name of unification. They wish to exterminate the Pontifical States, and remove the Pope! What is next, may I ask? A satanic group of individuals leading over ten million people into their doom? One that may turn hostile to all powers not aligned to it? And what of us? What of the French citizens inside the peninsula. What would happen to them? Perhaps they are exiled, perhaps they are killed. Do you want to take the chance of having the burden that is the death of thousands of French men and women on your hands? I do not. Hence my actions. The Radical Mob of Milan must be put down. We must inquire an alliance with the Germans and the Pope in order to quell this attack on civilization. We must preserve the Italian peninsula and all who live on it. We must act quickly. We must strike them while they are disorganized and we must do it with fervent spirit and zealous strength. I myself shall be directing the front after I leave in a few days. I plead with the members of this Assembly who appointed me as your chief executive, to follow me and strike down these menaces before it is too late.”

The assembly erupted in argument after a solid minute of silence. Louis-Napoleon smiled, walking out the room. Several yelled to the guards to seize him, in which they did not respond. Louis-Napoleon returned to his Quarters under guard as he prepared for his trip to Savoy.

French Army of the Alpines Bivouac, Savoy

Colonel François Achille Bazaine had been assigned, following his promotion, to organize an agreement or alliance with the Papal and Austrian command rather than any formal diplomatic discussion with each ones government. He was also temporarily in charge of the Army until his superiors arrived, including Louis-Napoleon himself. Discussing with several officers, letters were written and dispatched.

URGENT COMMUNICATION REQUIRED
FRENCH COMMAND

FRENCH COMMAND IN ITALY IS REACHING OUT TO AUSTRIAN AND PAPAL ARMY COMMAND IN ORDER TO ORGANIZE OPERATIONS AGAINST GARIBALDI'S ARMY. 40,000 MEN ARE CURRENTLY PRESENT WITH REINFORCEMENTS ARRIVING IN A MONTH TO PUSH INTO THE HEART OF ITALY. SAVOY WILL BE OCCUPIED SOON AFTER. CONTACT IS REQUESTED AND AN AUDIENCE WOULD BE APPRECIATED.

MILITARY COMMAND OF THE FRENCH ARMY

The letters were sent out early in the morning through a local Italian courier who was paid rather extravagantly to deliver them.

by **The Industrial States of Columbia** » Sat Sep 01, 2018 7:20 am

Rule Britannia

May 20th, 1848, Hanseong, Joseon

“My lord, we have the reports you requested.”

Lord Craddock set down his teacup, cold now for around half an hour, and accepted the folders with a small nod of thanks. Despite it's sorry state, the brew helped focus him as he perused through the happenings in his little piece of Asia. The war in central Cathay of course concerned him, but with the standstill currently ongoing, Craddock felt comfortable predicting the eventual triumph of the Wu coalition.

He opened the folders, quickly perusing a page detailing the seige of Kaifeng, and confirming the continued siege of Qian's army by Wu artillery. Though quieter now, the early stages of the conflict had allowed the Gordons to observe the new Wu Rifles, which had been shown to be far superior to the contemporary arms used by Shu and Ming, as well as he could confirm Britain's own arms. He had had sent a brief letter detailing this concern to London, and he hoped that his connections with the Prince Alexander would see that these insights were actually taken into account.

Events in Nihon, however, had captured his focus. The Shogun attacked, rebel uprisings underway throughout the island. He could have not hoped for a better outcome, save for the timing. Though haste was being made on the conversion of a few of the ships of Joseon's navy, and the joining British taskforce would be arriving shortly, he feared that they would not be prepared in time for the coming wars. He had other operations mostly independent of this, the Ainu had been favorable to British approaches so far, and a small number of other groups had received generous donations from an anonymous source in their activities. But still, Craddock knew more, decisive action would need to be taken to ensure Britannia's advantage.

“Mr. Tan, would you kindly find me Mr. Cook, I need him to deliver a message.”

“Right away sir.”

Craddock's pen began carving words into papers , to the Otomo and other groups that could be useful to his interests. The pieces were moving into place, much to his satisfaction, but much still had to be done.

Missives

To the Honourable Representatives of the Hanseatic League

Britannia sends to you greetings and well wishes. I was most pleased to read your correspondence, and write to inform you that Britain will welcome with open arms the possibility of closer cooperation and amiability with the League. Our histories and customs have been cut of the same bolt for centuries, and in this time of uncertainty we might weather the storm together.

Britain will happily welcome Hanseatic Representatives in London, and we hope that these negotiations will prove fruitful for all involved. The preferred date will be the 28th of June, in London at the office of the foreign secretary. Luncheon arrangements will be made for later. We look earnestly to your reply,

Signed by the Right Honourable Henry John Temple, 3rd Viscount Palmerston, Foreign Secretary of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland

To the Leaders of the Most Esteemed Otomo of the Empire of Nihon,

Greetings friends, and may this missive find you well. My colleagues and I, who I hope you will understand have decided to remain discreet, have taken a keen interest in the furtherment of Eden's ventures and future prosperity. We feel it a noble and progressive goal to resist the tyranny of the Shogun, who for so long has kept Nihon from the light and faith of a modern nation. As a gesture of our goodwill, we have decided to allocate considerable funds to be used at your leadership's discretion. These include firearms and munitions purchased for the liberation of Eden.

We wish all the best, and while we express solidarity with your aims, we request no effort is made to contact us, as others in our company would find our amicability unagreeable.

Godspeed, Ad Victorium.

by **Intermountain States** » Mon Sep 17, 2018 11:57 pm

April 12th, 1848
Hanseong, Joseon

"The Shogun of Japan is killed in his home by a bunch of rockets," Prime Minister Kim Myeong-gyeong said to his political allies over some tea. "The islands of Japan had already seen civil wars but this collapse of central authority made the chaos even worse, spreading over the islands.

"According to Lord So of the Tsushima Islands, the heir to the late Shogun, Tokugawa Iesada, is sickly and weak," Foreign Minister Yi Geol added. "Although he reached the adult age to rule, I doubt that he would be able to regain the warring lords that intensified after the late Shogun's demise."

"A man this weak would only mean that the office of the Shogunate would be under de facto control of nobles," Defense Minister Wang Jun-min said. "If we are to place any hope in law and order returning to Japan, we'll have to place hope in a promising clan. For now, we are seeing nothing but chaos with no end in sight."

"Lord So also mentioned that the Imperial Court of Japan has been seeking out foreign merchants, likely taking advantage of the Shogun's weakness to restore imperial power," Geol said. "According to the refugees hailing from Japan, very few claim to be from the imperial capital of Kyoto, meaning that either the region the Emperor is in has been untouched by the war or that the Imperial Court has been doing a good job defending the surrounding areas of Kyoto from brigands and aggressive daimyos."

"Anything coming the Imperial Court would be considered legitimate," Myeonggyeong said. "If we could get an agent to Kyoto, we could help with their Emperor reclaim order and have a strong ally to back us in case the Tuvans were to victor against the Wu-lead coalition."

"A stable and modernized Japan would be a good ally to Joseon," the Defense Minister added. "Its close proximity to Joseon is a value in itself in case the court needs to head south.

"We must hope for an end in Japan's civil war," the Prime Minister said. "In that case, we should send agents to their Imperial Court and to offer our support to their leadership."

"Lord Yi Bunseo could lead some merchants in Tsushima to serve as unofficial envoys," the Foreign Minister offered.

"Likewise, there are some officers who could be advisors to their Imperial Court," Jun-min said.

"Then it's settled then," Minister Kim said. "Assign to your respective subordinates of the role they'll play in bringing peace, order, and progress to these violent islands."

April 20th, 1848
Yamato Basin

It was Kim Hee-sung's first ride on a ship and it showed. After throwing up for the fifth time, the young bureaucrat looked around the sea from the portside nervously. Captain Hwan Gil-su looked at the young man with sympathy. He turned to Nogami Kanemori.

"That boy needs some reassurance. Think you can prevent him from having a nervous breakdown until we reached the Tango Peninsula?" Gil-su asked Kanemori.

"Shouldn't be too difficult," Kanemori said before walking towards the portside.

"Are you sure we'll be alright?" Hee-sung asked the merchant. "I've heard about pirate attacks being common since the death of the Shogun."

"We're on a military vessel that has 40 cannons and plenty of marines to load and fire these cannons," Kanemori assured the nervous bureaucrat. "Most pirate ships have very little cannons and the biggest of them could only field 8 cannon is due to the weight. Us merchants have been arming our vessels whenever we take part in maritime trade and we're also lead by an experienced naval officer. We'll be fine."

After reassuring the young bureaucrat, Kanemori met with Gil-su at his office.

"What do you propose we do once we reached Kyoto?" the merchant asked.

"If the rumors are correct, we would probably meet a regent for the Emperor," Gil-su replied. "Osahito is still young and if there's a regency council acting for him, we'll need to be friendly with them. We just need to be humble and respectful to the court if we are to make any progress."

"What if the authorities in Ine refuse to let us in?" Kanemori asked. "Japan is still very isolated and a foreign warship entering its harbor doesn't exactly illicit peaceful intentions especially if it's close to the Imperial Court."

"We could send a small boat requesting permissions to dock," the Captain answered. "If the authorities allow it, then we won't have any issues."

"And what if they say no?" the merchant asked.

"I wouldn't want to do this but an ultimatum might be necessary," Gil-su said, grimly.

April 21st, 1848
Ine, Japan

"If we are in trouble, I'll start waving this fan which can reflect sunlight," Lord Bunseo said to Captain Gil-su as he, Kanemori, and six marines entered a rowboat. "That gives you permission to retaliate."

"Yes my Lord," Gil-su said. The rowboat detached from the ship and the marines row the small boat to the port at Ine.

"You think there will be problems at the port?" Lieutant Yi Jung-mo asked the Captain.

"If the rumors that the Imperial Court is seeking help is true, then it's likely that establishing diplomatic relations would not be a major problem," Gil-su answered.

The envoys made their way to the port with no trouble but they were met by men armed with matchlocks, bows, and spears with a crowd of civlians behind them. The marines reached for their rifles but Bunseo ordered the marines to stand down. A armored elderly man head out of the crowd, wearing what Bunseo assumed to be samurai armor and whom he assumed to be the leader of this city.

"Kanemori, translate everything I said," Bunseo whispered to the merchant.

"Yes, my lord," Kanemori answered.

"State your purpose in this city, foreigner?" the lord demanded.

"Forgive us for causing a stir, commander," Bunseo said as Kanemori translated. "We are envoys from the Empire of Joseon to re-establish diplomacy and positive relations with the Imperial Court at Kyoto. We simply request to allow our ships to dock here and to meet with the Emperor of Japan."

"How do we know that this isn't an invasion, my Lord?" the lord asked. "You came from a large ship armed with cannons with men armed with guns unannounced and yet you claim to be on a goodwill mission?"

"The archipelago has been suffering years of civil war," Bunseo responded. "With the Tokugawa Shogunate losing de jure control of Japan to which they only control surrounding areas of Edo, they don't exactly have the means to police the seas. Piracy has flourished and our attempt to normalize relations with the Imperial Court cannot be announced lest some pirate lords try to pillage our ships. We are only here to support the Emperor. We have no ill-intentions."

The leader of the garrison hesitated for a few seconds before barking orders at one of the policeman. Bunseo turned to Kanemori.

"What is he saying?" He asked.

"He's ordering that policeman to ride to the capital to notify the Imperial Court on an unannounced diplomatic mission from Joseon," Kanemori said.

"Okay, envoys of Joseon," the lord said, after one of the policeman left. "We will allow your ship to dock in this port. However, until we receive orders from the Emperor, you will be on constant surveillance by our police and your movement will be limited to this town."

"Thank you my lord," Bunseo said as the envoys bowed. "We will honor your arrangements."

April 24th, 1848
Kyoto, Japan

The Emperor is quite young, Bunseo noticed as he, Kanemori, and Gil-su stood at the throne room at the Imperial Palace. The descendent of some heathen sun goddess and the spiritual leader of all of Japan is still just in his late teens.

"You claim to be of a diplomatic mission but why is it that I just received news of it two days ago?" the Emperor asked to Bunseo.

"Under the proper proceedings of the Tokugawa Shogunate, I, Lord Yi Bunseo of Joseon, establish a date for a diplomatic mission to occur with Lord So Yoshiyori of the Tsushima Domain and Lord So is to deliver the appointments to Edo in preparation for the mission, your Imperial Majesty," Bunseo explained while Kanemori translated. "This was true centuries back to return normalcy between Joseon and Nihon after the devastating Seven Years War started by Toyotomi Hideyoshi and it was something we enjoyed during times of peace between Joseon and Nihon."

"Unfortunately," Bunseo continued. "We are living in a chaotic time in Nihon. With the Tokugawas losing effective control over much of the islands, we simply cannot use proper procedures and we had to rely on alternatives to reestablish diplomacy. We did not want to abandon traditional diplomatic means but unless peace is brought back to the archipelago, I am afraid that this is how we'll have to conduct diplomacy, your imperial majesty."

"I see, but why to the Imperial Court?" the Emperor asked. "I am but a spiritual leader to my people, I do not have administrative power compared to the Shogun. Why are you seeking relations with me?"

"We feel that until the situation is stabilized in the region, it's better for us to have closer ties with the Imperial Court as Kyoto and the surrounding domains are among the safest in the region outside of the Tsushima Domain," Bunseo answered. "Edo is a mess and Kyoto is much closer and safer to Joseon and Tsushima, making it possible for two great nations to establish closer ties."

"I see your point about safety," the Emperor said. "But I'll have to consult with my advisor on this matter."

"Find these gentlemen a fine inn to stay at," the Emperor order to his palace servant. "Ensure that the inns treat our guests with honor as ordered by the Emperor."

"Yes your Imperial Majesty," the servant said as he lead the three lords out of the throne room.

"We hope to hear good news from your Imperial Majesty," The three lords said, bowing before they left with the servant.

by **Labstoska** » Wed Oct 17, 2018 12:21 am

April 21st, Waterkant
The streets of Waterkant were awash with a tsunami of Kolumbian citizens, the month of April had ushered in Springtime and every single well-minded Kolumbian Waterkant was taking full advantage of it, for while Waterkant was usually stuck perpetually in a cold and windy climate the new Spring sun was able to vanquish at least the former of the two. Needless to say that the majority of people out on the dirt streets weren't native to Waterkant, most had arrived in a caravan filled with goods that they were wanting to sell now that the danger of winter was at an end caravans filled with crops, lumber and ore were slowly meandering towards the major town and cities were their goods could be processed and sold off. Naturally the wearied travellers upon entering Waterkant would attempt to find an equally wearied government official that they could rant to about the sorry state of Kolumbian infrastructure and after they had thoroughly tired themselves out they went to spend the night and one of the various inns which had become one of the most numerous businesses throughout Waterkant.

Most buildings in Waterkant were designed in a way that screamed frontier, rickety and wooden seemed to be a pre-requisite for setting up a home in Waterkant, yet at the centre of the city was a building constructed to imitate the grand palaces and villas of Europe, the company house, the de facto seat of government throughout Kolumbia, to any visiting European aristocrat the place must of been rather depressing yet to any Kolumbian the place was the greatest point of pride that their nation had to offer. Within the fine halls and corridors of the company house were a number of shadowed rooms with intricate locks for various meatings of national importance. In one such room sat three men; President Jan Timmerman, general Niels Visser and the head of the Kolumbian west India company Gadian Vos. In the middle of the three men was a large circular mahgony table with a map of Kolumbia and the Native states with various wooden figurines placed at various points across it.

"...As you can see here sir over the course of the past 10 years a steadily increasing amount of Kolumbian settlers have found themselves across the Sioux border, today we estimate that there are about 56 Kolumbian settlements that are outside the control of the United Provinces, I'm sure that you understand Mr Timmerman that this state of affairs cannot be allowed to continue. Now as I understand it we have two options: demand that all of our citizens return to our current borders... Or perhaps we could organise an expedition into the territories of these Sioux people." General Visser looked expectantly towards the president.

President Timmerman raised his left eyebrow and said in a droll monotone "And I expect that it will be you who will be leading shall be leading this expedition?" A dry laugh emerged from Timmerman's mouth as he saw general Visser suddenly stutter and re-affirm his loyalty "Don't be so quick to grovel general, I do believe it's your job to beat the grovelers into shape, but yes I do happen to agree with your sentiment for an expedition into the territory of these Sioux people, perhaps you may even be allowed to grasp some of the glory that you evidently hunger for."

Gadian Vos who had previously remained almost entirely silent for the meeting now piped up "There is the slight problem that the Republic of Fusang seem to have their own designs upon the region and I do think that it's fair to say that if it ever came to a military conflict between our nations we would quite easily be pushed aside, I think the risks that we face here aren't worth the reward."

A broad smile passed over general Visser's face "The thing is these American Chinamen will have to do in order to claim that land is to first race us to claim territory and in speed and mobility the Kolumbian army stands unrivalled."

"So you are saying general that our armies have an ability to run like no other?" Yet another dry cackel passed from Timmerman's lips as a look of shock spread over the young general "Now now genral you must learn to appreciate a joke every now and then. As for your expedition proposal I think that it might be time for these wandering nomad peoples to be brought under the dominion of a more enlightened state, we can discuss the exact details of your expedition later but for now I'd quite like to have a conversation with Mr Vos here in private."

General Visser stood gave a quick salute towards the president, scowled at the company man and then proceeded exit the room, the charisma and ego that he had first entered with seemed a little more subdued. Vos now turned his head towards Timmerman "President Timmerman, you don't often call upon the company so to what do I owe the pleasure, perhaps you've decided to roll back some of your previous reforms to our legislature?"

Timmerman scowled before saying "No, I invited you here today to talk about an altogether more pressing issue than your nagging for political reform, the infrastructure of Kolumbia is altogether non-existent, people are forced to trek miles to sell their goods and even to have them processed, I propose that my government formally charters your company to aid is a nation wide infrastructure development project." Vos looked as if he were about to pipe up however the president quickly interrupted "I'm guessing that you're about to demand a return to the old system for our legislature however I can already assure you that such a thing will not be happening, and before you state adamantly that you refuse such a deal please consider what you'd be giving up, if you were to accept you and your company would have significant control over our nation's railway lines, which from what you can see outside would no doubt be a particularly profitable business."

The company president smiled " Well, you've certainly made a strong point for your development plan, we in the company might even be able to see past your previous insults to us. Now let's hear the financial particulars of this agreement..." As the conversation continued and the sun dipped further and further into the horizon the plan for the nation infrastructure development plan was slowly but surely ironed out, Mr Vos was somewhat dismayed to hear that the Kolumbian west India company would not be the only business to help with the project instead the United Provinces would reach out to various foreign investors in order to secure the rest of the funding necessary for the project.

The expedition into Sioux lands had begun with a total of 2,000 infantry men, 400 cavalry men and a total of 4,000 settlers/ militia following after them, the expedition had left the town of Waterkant on the 11th of May yet they weren't expected to reach Sioux territory be the end of the month, once again the lack of infrastructure in the nation had proven itself to be a extraordinary annoyance. The hope of the expedition was to first and foremost bring the Kolumbian settlements back into the embrace of their mother nation and secondly to capture the Sioux territory before the Fusang could.

Even with the foreign investment being unsecured a small part of the national development plan had managed to proceed with funding from both the Kolumbian west India company and the government, the tracks for a new railway was being put down between the city of the Waterkant and the next largest settlement throughout the united provinces: fort De Vries, located near the border with the Dutch settlements and also right in the centre of one of the United province's most fertile provinces, the new railway wouldn't only allow for the greater transferal of crops to Waterkant but it would also lead to a greater deal of urbanisation as more and more people moved towards the various servicing stations along the line in order to get greater access to the other parts of the united Provinces.

As for Kolumbian industries, the government of the united provinces had begun to make an effort to encourage the steel working industry as more and more minerals began to flow into the various frontier towns, it became increasingly evident that in order to reap a greater reward from the mining industry it was necessary to start processing the goods brought to them. The subsidies were offered to businessmen were mainly around areas such Waterkant and fort De Vries, in order to encourage both economic growth in the two cities and to encourage a general migration of people back towards urban areas where jobs were in greater availability. A second noticeable development were the two new armouries being constructed in Waterkant as part of a military initiative to start fully modernising and outfitting the Kolumbian, the number one priority for the armouries when they are finally complete will be to fully outfit the army with modern equipment, the second priority will be to start work on a fully fledged artillery component to the Kolumbian military.

Foreign affairs:

To:Whomever it may concern within the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland
From: The foreign ministry of the United provinces of Kolumbia
Greetings good sirs. We in the United Provinces of Kolumbia are beginning a program of national development in an effort to greatly improve the currently pitiful infrastructure of our hopeful nature, however despite our best efforts we are currently unable to raise enough funding to fully commit to such initiative, which is why we most cordially request that your government begin investing into the aforementioned development project. If this project were to be realised it would allow for the mass exploitation of the United Province's untapped mineral and agrarian potential.

In exchange for such an investment our government would be willing to completely open up the united province's markets to British industries, as well as this our nation would be willing to ensure that British holdings in North America remain protected, after all there is no harm in allowing more of us European peoples onto the continent. We hope that this agreement would be able to break down the previously frosty relations between our nations and allow for a new age of cooperation between our two nations

signed:
Roan de Lange, foreign minister of the United Provinces of Kolumbia

by **Tracian Empire** » Sun Oct 21, 2018 3:42 am

Austrian Empire
Kaisertum Österreich

Habsburg Monarchy
Habsburgermonarchie

Austria erit in orbe ultima!

Ahnungsgrauend, todesmutig,
Bricht der große Morgen an,
Und die Sonne, kalt und blutig,
Leuchtet unsrer blut'gen Bahn.
In der nächsten Stunden Schoße
Liegt das Schicksal einer Welt,
Und es zittern schon die Lose
Und der Würfel fällt!

Wer legt noch die Hände feig' in den Schoß?
Wer legt noch die Hände feig' in den Schoß?
Das Volk steht auf,
Der Sturm bricht los!

Wien

The chanting and singing of thousands of people could be heard on the streets of Vienna that evening. A mass of people, students, workers, merchants, women, children, all moving together as one. Some holding Austrian and German flags, other armed, with stolen rifled muskets, with axes, with pitchforks or with shovels, while others were unarmed. The mass of people was marching towards the Stephansdom, but all the streets that were leading towards the Stephansplatz were blocked and guarded by lines of soldiers. The groups of people stopped a few meters away from the soldiers who had their rifles ready, aimed at the protesters. A few moments of silence passed, as the protesters looked at the soldiers, and the soldiers looked at the protesters, brothers looking at brothers. And then, one of the protesters - a teenage boy, screamed - as he rushed forward, a wooden stick with the black-red-yellow flag. The soldiers opened fire, so many bullets being shot at the same time, so many people falling.. and then the mob rushed forward, screaming in pain and anger and hate as one. The second line of soldiers moved forward, and they shot again.. but before the third line was able to do anything, the mob crashed right into the group of soldiers.

Blood, screams, and isolated shots could be heard throughout the night.

But how did it it end like that?

Some could say that it had all started after the news of the victory of the French revolutionaries in Paris, or maybe after news of the revolution in Prague. Others could say that it started after the Diet of Niederösterreich had asked for Metternich resignation - and the Kaiser, Ferdinand, had failed to publicly support the Chancellor, leading to basically all the forces that opposed Metternich to take a stand. But while the political machinations that were happening behind close doors had remained hidden for now - it was the biggest force opposing Metternich that had dared to stand up first. The people. It started in the morning, with something that couldn't even be called a students' protest. Just small groups of students from the universities of Vienna, giving leaflets that mocked Metternich to the people on Vienna's streets. But then, some police officers intervened, in some less than peaceful ways, a couple students were arrested, and then by noon, most of Vienna's students were out in the streets, initially demanding the immediate release of the students who were arrested in the morning, demands which evolved into calling for Metternich's resignation, and then for his resignation and a relaxing of the absolutist policy of the government, only for the students to end up requesting liberal reforms and a constitution. The army intervened, and tried to take the students off the streets, but some of the soldiers opened fire..and the first martyrs of the revolution were born. The streets around the city center were more or less cleared, but as the afternoon came, more and more people started to get out in the streets, forcing the soldiers to withdraw. And by the evening.. they were already marching towards the palace.

And at the same time, a very stressed and sweating Metternich suddenly entered the Emperor's chambers. Ferdinand was... reading a children's book, with big colored images - Struwwelpeter. "My Emperor, we have to call Radetzky back from Italy. We have to mobilize our forces, to mobilize the Confederation's forces, and to ask for the help of the Holy Alliance. We are losing control over Vienna, we have to run away and we have to do everything that we can in order to stop these rebels who would dare to fight against our most glorious monarchy and against the peaceful order that we have established in Europe." Ferdinand, on the other hand.. didn't seem to be worried at all. "What's.. wrong, M-metternich? What's h-happening?", the Emperor asked. "The people of Vienna are marching on the palace, they've clashed with the soldiers. They're.. they're making a revolution, my Lord." And Ferdinand remained quiet for a few moments, as if he couldn't even comprehend that concept, before he looked back at his book. "But are they allowed to do that?"

Italien
A week before the events in Vienna

"Most of their forces are guarding the mountain passes on our shared border. Venice has declared its neutrality - and with their focus being directed towards the south and the Papal States, we assume that their defense on the Etsch is relatively weak, Herr Feldmarschall.", one of the officers reported. An older man, dressed in a white ceremonial uniform and his staff were standing inside of a tent on the border between Austria and Venice, looking at a map of Northern Italy that had been placed on top of a small wooden table. "This reminds me of the last time we have fought in Italy- it didn't end that well.", the old officer responded, as he was looking at the map, absentmindedly. "We don't have nearly enough men in order to guard both the mountain passes and the Etsch, and we can't just sit and do nothing. Rome might fall, and the revolutionaries won't ignore Venice forever. Or even worse, the French might actually be able to push into Lombardy and who knows if they will respect the terms of our agreement then..."

Remaining quiet for a few moments, the old man started to move a few chess pieces on the map - pieces that had been placed there to represent the forces of Austria and her enemies. "Have some of the Grenzer units stationed on our former border with Milan simulate an offensive. They should try to push through the mountain passes without getting themselves killed - they should make it look as if it's a big attack, and then regardless of whether the Italians take the bait or not, they just stop and strengthen our defenses. Hopefully the revolutionary forces will believe that this is an arrogant offensive, that we think that we can take the mountain passes through a direct assault. Hopefully their revolutionary and nationalist fervor will help us. Our fortifications in the Alps are in a good shape and our forces there are more than able to resist - whether the Italians decide to attack or not it should hopefully distract them for a little bit. Until then, our forces should move through Veneto as quickly as possible. We will occupy Verona and Legnago and take defensive positions of the Etsch before we plan our next move. Dismissed."

The other officers saluted, leaving the tent, and the old man continued to look at the map in silence for a few more minutes - before one of the soldiers entered. "Herr Feldmarschall, his Imperial and Royal Highness, Archduke and Prince Franz Josef of Austria and of Bavaria is here.", the soldier then stood aside, allowing a young man in a military uniform to also enter the tent. "My Lord,", the old officer saluted, bowing his head for a few moments before both men saluted each other in the military way. "I believe that you have called for me, Herr Feldmarschall.", Franz Josef asked. "Yes, my Lord. There seems to be some sort of an unrest back in Vienna. Your father, Archduke Franz Karl has sent me a message that has arrived this morning - it seems that the Emperor has requested your return to Vienna. I shall give you a small escort of soldiers, and you should leave right now." The young Prince hesitated for a few moments. He had been assigned to the Feldmarschall's army a couple of months ago, and while everyone was aware of the rumors that were circulating about the situation back in Vienna, for the Emperor to call him back.. well, he wasn't sure why such a thing would happen.

"Of course. I shall pack my belongings and I will leave within the hour. Good luck in crushing these rebels, Herr Feldmarschall.", Franz Joself replied in a calm and calculated voice. "Best of luck to you too, my Lord."

An hour later, Franz Josef was riding towards Vienna, while Radetzky's army was advancing into Venice. The Austrians had used the influence that they had in the Serenissima and the fear of the Most Serene Republic against these savage revolutionaries to obtain the permission to move their forces into Venetian territory. The War for Italian Independence had begun - but as God willed it, these revolutionaries were going to be crushed.

by **Intermountain States** » Wed Oct 31, 2018 5:43 pm

April 28th, 1848
Kyoto, Japan

Kanemori and six Joseon marines stood in front of a mass of men. The Emperor welcomed the diplomatic party as a restart of good relations between Joseon and Japan, allowing the establishment of the Joseon Imperial Embassy in Kyoto, bringing Marines and supplies into the city. Thanks to efforts of Lord Bunseo, the Emperor also called upon the lords to send young men to the capital where they would undergo training in the newly created Imperial Military Academy where they'll be armed and trained with more modern weapons. Kanemori was recommended by Bunseo to serve as an instructor in the Imperial Military Academy as Hwan Gil-su received promotion and was to serve as Acting Consul.

"Welcome to this new academy," Kanemori began. "You have been selected by your lords to be trained in an evolving warfare. This training, while short, will be brutal and you will initially be unfamiliar with newer, more powerful weapons."

"But first, I want you men to wear these new uniforms," Kanemori ordered, pointing to boxes containing black and golden uniforms. "There should be enough for everyone to wear."

"After you wear the uniforms, start running around the tracks," He continued. "We need to test out your physical stamina before we begin training."

After the run, Kanemori lead the conscripted men to a targeting range manned by two Marines, each holding different guns. On the table containing firearms in front of the mass of men wearing black and golden uniforms, Kanemori held out a matchlock musket.

"I am sure you are all familiar with matchlock muskets," he said. "I reckon that the lords in control of your fiefs have them in their arms storage and I believe some of you may used them to scare off wild animals wandering into your farms."

"This is likely the main range weapon used by footsoldiers in every lords," he continued. "It outranges the bow and takes less time to train." While he's talking, the marine with the matchlock aimed at fired at the target, penetrating the board.

"The only downside to the musket is the loading time," he added as the marine reloaded. "While destructive when fired, it takes over a minute to load the musketball in, light the fuse, and to fire. Generals solve this issue by having rank fire where a line of men fire at a time and it makes for a continous rate of fire. Unfortunately, this would make musketeers immobile and susceptible to being flanked by cavalry. That is why there is a doctrine of combined arms. Spearmens are needed to protect the musketeers while archers provide rains of arrows to stop chargers in their tracks. Everything revolved around the gunner."

"However, warfare evolves over time," Kanemori said as he placed the matchlock gun down and picked up the Model 3 Rifle. "You may not know this but in the world outside of Japan, swords, spears, and arrows play little role outside of hunters and show of status."

"This is the Model 3 Rifled Musket," he continued. "This is still a muzzle loading musket but has a quicker rate of fire and far safer to load and use compared to matchlock employed by lords. It's also effective at a far longer range, allowing for soldiers to be effective from nearly at space. The rate of fire is around 3 rounds a minute, which is a massive improvement." The other marine started loading his rifle, aimed, and fired, hitting the board from a longer range. The men ooed in impressment.

"For those who are familiar with spears, new forms of rifles can be turned into spears with the insert of a form of knives called bayonets," He continued as the marine inserts the bayonet on the rifle and charged at the target. "This allows a soldier to play the role of both a gunner and a spearman."

"Transitioning from the Tanegeshima to the Model 3 should not be difficult," he said. "I want three lines to be formed at the range, each armed with the Model 3s. Let's move it, men."

by **Granluras** » Thu Nov 01, 2018 9:11 am

Palácio de Miraflores, Caracas, Venezuela - August 6, 1848

It was a cloudy day in Caracas. The streets weren’t very active, there were only a few carriages here and there and a handful of pedestrians at every street corner. In the depths of the city was the presidential office, the Palace Miraflores. The Cabinet of Venezuela was gathered there on this day, with the elderly President Monagas at the head of the wide oak table that was centered in the Cabinet Room.

The gathered Ministers went over the notes and documents they had taken with them to discuss with the President, and when they finished that they all turned to face the President, who was continuously shifting in his seat and coughing.

“Ahem….agggh! Ah-ahem,” the President groaned, clearing his throat loudly and obnoxiously, “thank you all for—agh-hem. Thank you all for being able to make it here, I know the—gah, weather isn’t that good. We’ve waited here long enough, so let’s begin.”

The Ministers nodded in agreement and the cacophonic shuffling of paperwork filled the air for a moment.

“The first topic on our agenda concerns the ongoing—aghem...industry project. As we know, my administration has longed for the industrialization of Venezuela. The benefits are obvious. Go take Britain as an example, it was an agrarian country much luck us. Then industrialization took hold of it and Britain and it is now one of the largest economies on Earth,” President Monagas said to the Cabinet, wheezing his way through the speech. He then turned to Gualter Azevedo, the incumbent Minister of the Army and Navy and Geral de Brigada, “Mi-Mister Azevedo, how is it that you describe Venezuela?”

“That its a country where only 10% of its land contains 80% of its people. That means out of this vast country, we only have tapped into the resources of 10% of it. And haven't we become considerably rich and made great profit off of that small portion? Imagine if we were to tap into the next 10% and sell it at high enough but still reasonable prices to great, rich powers such as France, England, or the Americans. Then imagine if we coupled the profitability of industrialisation with the richness of Venezuela. Simply put, we live in an untapped gold mine and have the unused resources needed to access that gold mine.” General Gualter said, reciting his entire nationalistic tangent to the Cabinet.

“Yes, agh...as the General says, our homeland is a rich nation. Given the means to access and refine its riches, something industry can surely do, we will become the economic idol of South America. Oh the Iberian aristocrats who used to plunder us will be so envious, aye?” President Monagas continued.

“How exactly do we intend to go about this? Granted we have the British on our side, we have all the soil we need for factories, but I can tell you from my position the fact that we have all the superficial needs for industrialisation doesn't mean we have the more subtle, evermore integral needs. Manpower, a qualified workforce, the money in general for covering construction and maintenance costs - costs far greater than those of agrarian facilities, and of course high-quality, active ports that the British, French, and anyone else might want to dock at and trade with.” Tomé Tavares, the Minister of National Economics, inquired. He was always the skeptic when it came to the big projects presented during these meetings, although he wasn't opposed to all of them, he just wanted to make sure they were feasible.

“Well…” the feeble-minded Monagas groaned, clearing his throat and prolonging his response, “yes…I see where—blagh…where you're uh coming from, Tomé. And—gah! Aghem! Agh!”

As he strained to respond something snapped in his lungs and the senior President entered a coughing fit—his wrinkly, fattened neck bluing and wobbling; his arms groping after his handkerchief; and the Ministers standing up and moving towards the President’s aid.

“Senhor Presidente, hang in there,” General Gualter said, turning to the Interior Minister, “Felipe, go find a doctor or someone, now!”

The President let out a big howl and forced his mouth closed, pressing his worn out handkerchief to his lips.

“I-I suppose I—gah…will have to go now. Cutting this m-meeting short. I apol-agh-ize. Though if agh–ny of you are willing, y-hoo! You may continue this on your own,” President Monagas muttered and coughed through his handkerchief. The Interior Minister and two doctors came in soon after, “ahh, here's my help.”

The three helped the President out of the Cabinet Room. As the rest of the ministers talked amongst themselves, concerned about the President, General Gualter moved to the head of the table. This, this is where he belonged. Not off to the side, whispering into the ear of some old man. Not a bureaucrat. No, he belonged at the head of the table, at the head of Venezuela. He knew it, and soon all of Venezuela would. This power hungry spell lifted off of Gualter and he rubbed his head, he turned to the rest of the table and cleared his throat.

“I suggest we all take a moment or two to pray for the health and wellbeing of President-General Monagas,” General Gualter said, surveying the faces of the Ministers as they closed their eyes, clasped their hands, and prayed. As their eyes opened up again Gualter clasped his hands and continued the meeting, “so, if we are all back on track. I suppose we continue with the industry project President Monagas brought up, hmm?”

Herdade do Azevedo, Caracas, Venezuela - Later the Same Day

Several hours had passed. The sun had set, and the clocks had struck nine. General Gualter was back at his family home, the Herdade do Azevedo. The house had been in his family since his great-great-grandfather arrived in the Viceroyalty of New Genera and became a colonial aristocrat. It was actually because his grandfather had participated in the Venezuelan War of Independence that the house and his family has not been destroyed and dragged through the mud.

General Gualter was standing at the wide window in his second floor sitting room. The moonlight was shining brightly into the room, so much so that he didn't need to light the candles that were positioned in the corners of the room. The quietness of the night was broken by the clopping sound of two dozen hooves approaching the gates of the estate. These hooves belonged to three separate moguls of Venezuela.

As the servants of the Azevedo estate filed outside and opened the carriages, the moguls stepped out one at a time.

First was Cecílio Queiroz, the President of the Empresa de Café Caripe - Venezuela’s second-largest coffee-producing company. He wore imported Victorian formal attire, cotton and fibers forged in the heart of British Columbia. He was the most flaunty of the trio, but his affluence and influence was not to be overlooked based off of that.

Second was Miguelito Mendonça, the second-generation hereditary Executive Manager of the Autoridade Portuária de Maracaibo. Through his governance of the city of Maracaibo’s port and trade activity he managed 40% of the port and freighting industry of Venezuela. He, among the other port moguls of Venezuela, was the go-to person for wanting a powerful friend to have on your side.

Third and finally was Toninho Sequeira, who was the Chief Financial Director of the Sequeira Pesca de Higuerote. Sequeira was a major family-owned Venezuelan fishing company, and was quite a beneficial ally for Gualter.

They were tended to by the servants, and then led into the Estate. Gualter turned and sat at an armchair besides the window. On the table was a cup of coffee that Gualter had been cooling. He picked it up and sipped from it, taking in the rest of the heat with his hand as the footsteps of the moguls approached from outside.

“Boa noite, friends,” General Gualter said as the moguls walked into the room, taking off some of their upper class accessories and hanging them on the hatstand and tables adjacent to the doorway, “I’m glad you all were able to make it here so late.”

“Well considering we had to come from all across Venezuela, we are glad also.” Toninho said, sitting at the chair across from Gualter and the table.

“Heh, yes. I’m sorry for the short notice. However, recent developments have pushed me to call this meeting.” General Gualter laughed, taking a sip of his coffee and snapping his fingers, indicating for his servants to fetch some chairs for Queiroz and Mendonça.

“Let’s get down to business, Gualter. What are these recent developments that have you on edge?” Miguelito inquired, sitting down on the cushioned Windsor chair one of the servants had fetched.

“President Monagas is in critical condition. That’s what Nicodemo, eh...the hospital administrator of the Hospital da Virgem de Coromoto, told me two hours ago. He also informed me that several montadores visited him, lead by the Speaker of the Senate, inquiring about the President’s condition. Most likely that means that the National Assembly is getting uneasy and readying the Constitution in order to select an Acting President. What can you three deduce from that?” General Gualter informed the gathered moguls, sipping from his coffee cup as he spoke.

“Is that so?” Cecíllio said, smiling at the thought of the news.

“Yes. The doctors aren’t exactly sure of the prognosis, however I heard that they did perform some tests so it’s a matter of time until we do know it.” General Gualter added.

“So what do you want to happen now that you’ve given us this information?” Toninho inquired, cocking his head inquisitively and crossing his legs.

“Cecilio, you’re in tandem with the Gangue das Ruas Cumaná. If you could set up some civil unrest, whether by having the Rausers run wild in the streets or feeding them more members, I’d be grateful. Also, throw your weight around and keep the local police from responding. Okay?” General Gualter replied.

“Uh…alright. But you’re asking me to swim awfully long in murky water in doing so.” Cecílio replied, scratching his chin nervously.

“Now, Toninho. I need you to alter some financial records.” General Gualter said, watching Toninho’s facial cues to determine Toninho’s belief in the plan’s feasibility before he said anything.

“Huh? Wh-what do you mean?” Toninho replied, not giving off many negative cues.

“I need you to make it look like Sequeira has been losing money, starting after Monagas’ passing of the 1846 Whaling and Fishing Industry Improvement Act. You think you can do that?” General Gualter inquired.

“Yeah, yeah. I am the head of the financial department. I got some unwaveringly loyal friends in it too.” Toninho answered.

“Brilliant. Now, Miguelito. I’m going to need you to not fake a lack of profit, but cause yourself to lose profit.” General Gaulter informed Miguelito, slightly cringing as he awaited Miguelito’s response to this even more extreme request,

“Hah! What!?” Miguelito cackled. His face shriveled incedulously and humorously.

“I need a port accident to be set up. As you’re practically the true ruler of Maracaibo I’m hoping you could set some things into motion to crash a ship or something and delay the proper response of local authorities.” General Gualter elaborated, grasping his coffee cup tensely.

“Eh…ah fine. You’ve had us supporting you for the last few years and all the missions you've given us have worked out good. While it’s a bit more costly this time around, so why not be a little risqué.” Miguelito replied.

“I like that view. Thank you, Miguelito.” General Gaulter said with a smile.

“So how are you gonna ensure these three, supposedly, anti-Monagasist setups will be of avail?” Toninho asked, folding his hands and waiting for Gaulter’s response.

“The Cumaná civil unrest will be used to evidence a degrade in the discipline and efficiency of the Venezuelan police system. Only the stupidest can’t trace the current federal policies regarding law enforcement back to Monagas and his cohorts. His political machine will suffer its first blow. They will turn to someone willing to reform it and with the knack for discipline. I think we all know which one of us fits those characteristics…”

“Then, the falsification of Sequeira’s financial record starting after the passing of that 1846 law will make it look as if Monagas’ policies have been detrimental on Venezuela’s whale and fish deposits. There's a conservationist caucus that is growing throughout the nation, showing them that I'm on their side is ought to buy me a lot of support…”

“Lastly, this Maracaibo setup will also try to paint a picture of inefficiency and corruption in Venezuela, that will lead to a trusted man and disciplinarian to be sought after. Again, which one of us fits those characteristics?” General Gualter explained to the three men, watching their reactions to his plans.

“Ingenious, I must say. But incredibly risqué, too. Are you sure these plans will succeed?” Miguelito inquired.

“I'm not. I'm the director, you all are the executors. It depends on your execution that will make sure these plans succeed. Hopefully you all are smart enough to make them succeed, and if all goes well I shall see you here and not in a cell within a month.” General Gualter replied wittily.

“Hm-m-m. Interesting man you are, Gualter. But I'll make sure of your plan’s success. If you will all excuse me, I must proceed with a late night trek back to Caripe. Tchau, gentlemen.” Cecílio said, taking his top hat off of the hatstand.

“Safe travels, Cecílio.” General Gaulter replied, turning to Toninho - who was the next person to get out of his seat.

“I have a hotel room to get into. I have another meeting here in Caracas tomorrow, so might as well make the best of it. I’ll see you later, Gualter.” Toninho said, reaching forward and shaking Gualter’s hand.

“Tenha uma boa estadia, amigo.” General Gualter said, returning Toninho’s shake.

Gualter rose out of his chair and walked to the large window, watching the clouds move, the moguls walk back to their carriages, and the lights of Caracas at the foot of the hill Herdade do Azevedo was on.

Behind Gualter, Miguelito remained. Gualter didn’t pay much attention to his presence, as he believed he’d just leave along with the others. However, Miguelito lingered. He walked up to the door and peeked out, making sure both servant and mogul were far off. Then he closed the door, and turned back around to Gualter.

“You know,” he began, “my family’s and my own prominence didn’t come through trusting and accepting other people unconditionally. We were skeptics, we were cynics, we were realists. We knew of backstabbers, double-crossers, spies, and more. We might be good friends, Gualter, and have been so for the last few years, but why should I be sure that you aren’t going to toss me, Cecílio, and everyone else under the bus once you get you way, replacing us with people more unconditionally loyal?”

Gualter walked around, holding his hands behind his back, and after pacing from the left side to the right side of the window thrice he chuckled lightly and turned to Miguelito.

“I’m not going to lie, Miguelito. There will be disposing of people. Those who have followed the beat of too many different drummers, those who still look up to Monagas even if they’re on my paycheck, the underground escumalha who I’ve had to get associated with, and some others. However, when I filter out my allies, you won’t be touched. I come from a military family, Miguelito, so I too know the truth about human nature.”

Miguelito took a moment to process this, and nodded his head with a half-smile.

“That’s good to hear. I’ll see you in a month then, or sooner if Deus wills it.”

Miguelito turned back towards the door and put on his hat and then quickly turned around again.

“One final thing. I heard that Monagas set up a meeting with a British company, err...Plymouth Atlantic, a few weeks ago. They want to improve Anglo-Venezuelan relations, boost industrialization efforts, and draft a formal trade agreement with Britain. I suppose with Monagas no longer in fit condition the meeting’s plans have been thrown out of whack, but are likely to continue. Does that sound like something you want in on, hmm?” Miguelito told General Gualter.

“Yes, it does, but how are you going to get us in on it? I’m sure whatever room this meeting will occur in will be locked and there will be security.” General Gualter inquired.

“The meeting will take place in Maracaibo. Maracaibo is my city, I’ll be able to get an ear or two into that meeting.” Miguelito explained.

“Ah, I see. Well work your magic, Miguelito, I’ll be happy to see what comes of this meeting.” General Gualter replied, quickly waving his hand goodbye to Miguelito.

“Adeus, amigo.” Miguelito replied, leaving the sitting room.

General Gualter sat down again and look outside upon the lights of Caracas. That city, and all the cities, pastures, and more beyond it would eventually be his. There was no denying this. It was predestined. As Gualter watched the cityscape the sky darkened as dense thunderclouds rolled in. A sharp thunderclap echoed through the sky, and a bright thunderbolt split the sky into two. This destructive force of nature was a perfect metaphor.

Sent June 15, 1848

Ministry of Foreign Affairs
Based in the Escritório do Frade Urdaneta, Caracas
Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela
To: The Governments or Diplomatic Agencies of the Hanseatic League and United Kingdom
From: Foreign Minister Santos Michelena
Encryption: Medium
Subject: Trade Meeting between our Governments
Dia bom,

The Government of Venezuela has sent this telegram to these two governments to request a meeting in the city of Maracaibo. (Directed to the Anglo government) For a while now our governments have been cooperating economically, importing and exporting a one another’s goods, (directed to the Hanseatic government) and our governments have had diplomatic relations established for several years now and the richness of Hanseatic trade is well-known. So, the Government of Venezuela has deemed it acceptable to finally extend a hand to have your two governments meet with our to discuss the drafting of an official, trilateral trade agreement. If either one of you agree to arrive, the meeting will be set in the Maracaibo Port Authority Office and will occur on August 18th, providing enough time for you to assemble and send delegates across the Atlantic and down to Venezuela. We hope you make it on time.

Sincerely,
Santos Michelena
Minister of Foreign Affairs

by **Intermountain States** » Thu Nov 15, 2018 6:08 pm

May 8th, 1848
Kyoto, Japan

Minister Yi Bunseo and a couple of Japanese court officials entered the training grounds of the Imperial Military Academy as recruits in black uniforms were training, firing their rifles in line and ranked fires and charging in to targets with muskets, all overseen by Captain Nogami Kanemori. Kanemori noticed the officials and walked over to them.

"Welcome to the training grounds, my lords," he greeted. "May I ask why you came to this humble academy?"

"There are reports of brigands being sighted outside of regions held by Kyoto," Bunseo said. "Although one of the lords there is raising a levy force to deal with the brigands, some members of the court want to send the New Army to stop the brigand forces."

"It's only been over a week," Kanemori explained. "They've undergone plenty of training but they're not ready for front-line combat yet."

"I told them that but they want to send these men so that the retainers there could have confidence in the Emperor instead of the Shogun," Bunseo said.

"We were told by the Joseon minister here that the New Army is being trained with weapons superior to what the rogues should have," a court official said. "Are you telling me that you can't send hundreds of men armed with advanced weapons to put down a bunch of ronins? They're armed with swords, spears, bows, and matchlock while these recruits here have state of the art weaponry."

"We're talking about experienced warriors who are trained with the art of their swords, my lord," Kanemori retorted. "A week long training is not enough to turn these farmers into capable soldiers."

"A mass of soldiers with rifles are more than enough to stop the rogues," a court official said. "When we walked in to the training grounds, I've seen these men hit their targets."

"Do you want a demonstration, my lord?" Kanemori asked before turning to one of the recruits. "This private here is one of our best shots, he'll provide a demonstration."

"Private Saeba Akifumi, load and discharged your rifle at that board over there," he ordered. Private Saeba loaded his rifle and after 22 seconds of loading and aiming, a shot came out from his rifle and hit the target. There was a clap among the ranks with Akifumi pleased with himself.

"Now, reload and do that again," Kanemori said, getting closer to the private and taking out his revolver. As the private begins to reload, Kanemori raised his revolver and discharged. Surprised by the revolver discharging behind him, Akifumi panicked a he loaded.

"Faster!" the Captain yelled, discharging his revolver again. The private was clearly stressed, dropping his rod from the second fire.

"Faster!" He yelled again, letting off another shot from the revolver. It took time but the private finally let out a shot, missing the board and hitting the wall behind the wooden board. Kanemori patted the stressed recruit on the shoulder and turned to the officials.

"He is our best shot and even he panicked with that level of stress. How do you think the rest of the recruits would fare in the frontline where arrows would be raining down on them, musketball whizzing by their heads, and armored men with spears and swords charging at them? They're not ready for the amount of pressure they're going to be subjected to until they're finished with their trainings. You are free to call on our marines from the embassy to support the levies. They have the training to deal with this."

"Listen here, Captain," the court official said. "We don't have much of a choice. As long as these soldiers are with our levies lead under an experienced commander like yourself, they will be a valued asset in stopping the rogues. The battalion will leave in five hours."

"But sir," Kanemori protested but the court official already left with a huff. Bunseo stepped to the captain.

"There's nothing we could do right now," Bunseo explained. "That official made up his mind the first chance we heard the news, despite my protest."

"Those recruit will be slaughtered," Kanemori said. "These are good men but they're not fully trained yet. I can't carelessly throw away hundreds of lives."

"I'm going to petition the Emperor to allow the Marines at the consulate to join in," Bunseo assured. "Even if their Emperor refuses, Major Hwan Gil-su should still be able to send the marines. They may be late but hopefully they can provide the needed support."

Captain Yi Jong-mu walked into Major Hwan Gil-su's office in the embassy.

"Sir," he began. "Minister Yi Bunseo is here to see you. He claims that it's a very important matter."

"Let the minister in, Lieutenant," Gil-su said. Jong-mu bowed and after a few seconds, Bunseo stepped in to his office.

"I would start with the greetings but the Japanese imperial court ordered Captain Kanemori to deal with brigands outside Kyoto with the New Army," Bunseo said.

"You mean the farmers? They're not properly trained yet. Why are they being sent?" Gil-su asked. "Don't the lords have some samurais to call upon?"

"Apparently they don't but despite Kanemori's protest about the New Army being unprepared, the court official leading this expedition made up his mind already. I want you to send a company of Marines to follow them and to provide support."

"This seems a tall order, my Lord," Gil-su said. "Have you received the Emperor's backing for this? This may cause controversies about Joseon marines shooting at Japanese people in Japanese soil."

"I will take responsibility for any issues it will cause between Joseon and Japan," Bunseo said. "Can you deploy the men?"

"Aye," the Major responded. "I can get Captain Jongmu to raise some marines but I do hope that this wouldn't cause some sort of incident."

"Thank you, Major," Bunseo said. "I know it's not an easy task due to the controversy it can cause but it's necessary for us to do so."

400 of the New Army head to the rural village where they see a mass of tired men, women, and children, some men armed with spears and muskets. The most armored of the bunch, likely a daimyo, noticed the soldiers and waved at them. Kanemori and the court official dismounted off their horses and walked to the tired men.

"Thank the Emperor for your arrival," the daimyo said, panting along the way with his face sustaining a cut. "My levy force of 140 was ambushed not too long ago by the brigands. There were more of them than I thought and they're quite organized."

"Where did you last see the brigands?" Kanemori asked.

"At the forests a few blocks from the village," the daimyo answered. "They're probably still around right now."

"Captain Nogami, we must stop these rogues in their tracks," the court official said. "We should use our superior numbers to wipe them out."

"We need to tend to the locals here," Kanemori responded. "We have medics here that we could use as makeshift hospitals. We send out a scouting team first to find them and then send skirmishers to deal with them."

"There's not enough time," the court official snapped. "I have been given authority by the Emperor himself to stop the brigands and I will not let your obstruct my duty to the Emperor!"

"We're in unfamiliar grounds," Kanemori said. "At the very least we should leave behind some men to defend the townsfolks in case the brigands made their way there."

"Alright then," the court official said. "We'll leave behind a fourth of the New Army to establish defense in this village and for them to tend to the locals. We must go now."

Except for the snapping of twigs and animal scurrying away, everything felt quiet for the 300 soldiers walking through the trail in the woods. Men clutched their rifles nervously as they look around, searching for any potential ambush. One soldier near the front looked down the hill to see some armed men walking around, barely covered by the woods.

"Sir, I see some movements, they may be some of the brigands," he informed Kanemori. The captain takes out his monocular to confirm the sighting. Sure enough, the men down there were carrying swords, have uncut long hair, and wear chest armor, matching the descriptions.

"Have the men form ranks and open fire on my command," he ordered the soldiers. The men quietly entered line formation, insert their bayonets on their rifles, and loaded their weapons. Kanemori continued to peer through the monocular to keep track on the armed men.

"Open fire!" he shouted. The first rank fired off a volley from their rifles down the hill before loading, releading to a volley from the second rank. Although some of the bullets hit the trees, plenty made their marks, surprising the brigands. Most of the brigands at the bottom hill attempted to rush up but were cut down by the bullets. As the soldiers continue to fire in lines, the court official rode up to Kanemori.

"We are defeating the rogues, Captain," the Court Official shouted over the sound of gunfires. "We'll have these villains down in no time!"

"The numbers of these men seems too small to confirm the daimyo's claims. We should still be wary of anything for this could be a trap. Spread out men!" Kanemori commanded. Just as the words left his mouth, some part of the ground bursts into the flame, burning some of the soldiers. Some of the soldiers turned around to see armored men throwing fire bombs from the top of the hill, using the trees as cover.

"Ambush!" Kanemori shouted. "Reform the lines to fire at the front of the hill!" As soldiers attempted to reform the line, some of them were cut down by gunfires and arrows from the armored men's matchlocks and bows at the top. Meanwhile firebombs were continued to be thrown from the top, setting the ground on fire. Some of the soldiers fled in panic while others attempted to put out the fire. Taking advantage of the panic, the marauders at the top of the hill charged down with their swords, screaming along the way. Although some of the soldiers were able to reform their lines and put out a volley of fire, many were cut down by the brigands' blades. Soldiers used their rifles as clubs or spears but they were woefully unmatched by the ferocity of the armored men.

One of the brigands charged at Kanemori but he was able to shoot the brigand down with his revolver. He fired three more shots at the charging brigands but one of the rogue managed to sneak behind him and thrusted his spear at Kanemori's horse. His horse neighed and reared from the spear, causing the captain to fall off his horse. He quickly got up and fired one shot at that brigand. He fired off more shots at the warriors until his revolver ran out of rounds. Putting away his revolver, Kanemori takes out his sabre and slashed at a charging brigand. Arrow whizzed by and Kanemori felt an arrowhead penetrating through his left shoulder.

Crouching down, he looked around to see soldiers struggling to hold off against the brigands with the New Army suffering heavy casualties. The court official and three of the soldiers slashed through some of the brigands to reach the captain.

"Are you alright, Captain?" the official asked.

"We must order a retreat," Kanemori said. "Order a fall back while we can preserve our strength." This time, the court official didn't argue.

"Fall back, fall back!" the official shouted as the soldiers following him picked up Kanemori. Soldiers started to flee the battle while some of the unlucky ones were cut down by the marauders. Gunfires could be heard and the soldier carrying the captain fell from the hit and the captain dropped to the ground, groaning from the pain. He was surrounded by some of the marauders pointing their swords and spears at him.

"Carry this officer alongside with the wounded peasants," a deep voice whom Kanemori could not pinpoint growled, "He would make for an excellent sight."

The wounded daimyo was among the first to greet the court official and the remaining soldiers when they reached the village.

"Were the pillagers stopped? What happened to the captain?" The daimyo asked but the defeated look on the men answered his questions. "Oh no," he added. The court official approached the daimyo.

"The captain was captured and we fell into a coordinated trap that killed many of our men," the court official. "We only have 123 men with us, 58 of them are of full strength. There is no doubt that the marauders would try to finish off the rest of us so we'd have to set up defenses around the village."

"There's an abandoned fortress near the village where we could make use of the defense," the daimyo said. "It will give us a higher ground that would be a valuable advantage over the brigands. We already sent civilians and the wounded alongside some of your soldiers to stay there in case your captain failed. We should move out now."

"Yes, we should," the court official agreed.

WORLD'S LARGEST REPORTED GRAPE The Archbishop of Urbino graciously accepted the unusual Montepulciano.	FOURTH WAR OF QIAN EXPANSION ENDED BY WU MARRIAGE It is reported by the representatives of the betrothed monarchs that this will secure peace for our time, despite the final demise of the Zhou state(s); the rest of China reacts to the royal wedding.
ABDULMEJID I DIES The Ottoman Sultan expired after a short and unexpected illness; his court reports that the world is bereaved of his sprightly lute-playing.	WAR IN THE FRENCH SOUTHERN CONE War has broken out between the Argentine and Antarctica; tensions with Chile and Brazil rise, and the South American continent may find itself plunged into war.
LANDSLIDES AT TOUNGOO Tremors and rains may have produced the collapse of hillsides, devastating sections of the old capital from whence the dynasty came, killing thousands.	RESTIVE JAPAN Conflict has broken out between and amidst the daimyos and the shogun; the Chrysanthemum Throne and foreign powers' reactions are yet unclear.
SPRINGTIME OF THE NATIONS SPREADS TO GERMANY Pan-German nationalist sentiment has seen widespread upwelling, especially in major cities, inspired by events in neighbouring nations.	EXPLOSIVE FACTORY EXPLODES Over two dozen workers were killed in the tragedy on Taiwan, whereupon the plant was closed by investors because of danger, leaving no large-scale guncotton manufacturers anywhere in the world.
SHU COMMUNE The government of the state of Shu saw food shortages and humiliation on the field of battle by the armies of Qian, and now seems to have ceased to exist, as revolutionaries have seized the Sichuan basin.	SPREAD OF THE COTTON GIN After the expiry of its patent earlier this year, it is here explored how the American invention, able to triple cotton output, has taken root across the world.
NINETEEN-HEADED BENGALI BABY Locals have apparently begun worshipping the legendarily misformed infant, born in a largely Hindu border region of the Sultanate.	CHOLERA OUTBREAK IN BRISTOL The wrinkled hand has stretched across Great Britain once again, claiming thousands of lives, this time in the County of Bristol, focused on the eponymous major west-coast port-city.

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