ESPERA MUMDI - A Fantasia-Mod AAR

[AmbassadeBelgie]

____________________________________________

CHAPTER MENU: LINKS
<< Any problems with links or suggestions on making this menu more user-friendly, just PM me, be not afear’d! >>
Chapters in this colour mean government changes


FOREWORD AND INTRODUCTION OF THE LUSITANII

BOOK I <link>
CHAPTER I - A SAÍDA
CHAPTER II - A MARCHA
CHAPTER III - A TRAIÇÃO
CHAPTER IV - A CHEGADA DA JORGE
CHAPTER V - EQUUS
CHAPTER VI - A VENGANÇHA
CHAPTER VII - A SANTÍSSIMA APPARIÇÃO
CHAPTER VIII - A RECONQUISTA
CHAPTER IX - DINASTÍA REVISADA
CHAPTER X – FILHO D’ALLAH
CHAPTER XI – MULHER ESTRANGEIRA
CHAPTER XII - A INVASÃO!
CHAPTER XIII – O PERIPLO DO HEROE
CHAPTER XIV – EL MORTO, ELA BELHA, EO PRINCE


BOOK II <link>
CHAPTER I – A CHEGADA DO IMPERATOR
Chapter II - Os Irmãos Alegre
Chapter III – A Busqueda da Roma
Chapter IV – A Batalha da Toscana
Chapter V – A Conquista da Roma
…ongoing.

[AmbassadeBelgie]

My portuguese is horrendous so perdonenme tudos os portuguêses, obrigado
Most of the time if I have a name it'll be Portuñol but hey, I'll try

OK, here's another AAR after what, a year or two of restraint... I hope I can get back in the swing of things cos I do feel a little rusty, but you'll be the judge of that.



Some of you may remember my last AAR which was also a Fantasia mod. You'll be pleased to hear there are at least ten more civs added to this mod (my last being lost in a computer crash; speeding ). Also as you probably guessed, it's on a portuguese footing now: I'm breaking away from Lowland AARs (all of them up to now were based in Belgium).

So sit back, relax, and enjoy. The specs are:

EUII + official patch 1.09
Fog of War: ON
Victory Points: ON
Difficulty: HARD
AI Aggressiveness: AGGRESSIVE

[AmbassadeBelgie]

Espera Mumdi – An IBERIAN Fantasia-Mod AAR

Warning: This AAR is utterly unhistorical and is based upon a different history (and set of historical facts including dates) than our own. Please feel free to enjoy it despite this .

FOREWORD
AND INTRODUCTION OF THE LUSITANII

When one looks back upon history and is faced with the lives of others and the paths they chose, one can always be pushed to wonder how the world was, and what brought the people to live as they did. The information we have is brief and obviously altered through the mouths and writings of many. This of course affects the way we see history, people, events, and even morals. The information collected is thus never written by two sides, as all biographers were (despite some effort not to be or not to seem,) preposessed.

This is the recital of a such history, of its history and of its peoples.

But first, in order to better understand what preceded the era we shall cover we must go further back in history, to a time of European political unity and advanced technology. We must travel all the way back to around 100 A.D. The Roman Empire at its peak, Latin is the predominant tongue, although regional derivations thereof combined with ancient speech makes for the creation of new languages. Literature, Architecture, Army formation and other useful aspects of the Roman lifestyle showers the people like the rain on a winter day: The resistance is weak in comparison with the ominous Roman authority. Over time the powerful empire crumbles, victim to corruption, citizen upheaval, conscript decadence, and barbarian incursions. [It is believed that] in the year 792 A.D. Rome falls, and three-hundred years later Constantinople follows cue, falling at the hands of barbaric hordes of the East.

It is here that the most fundamental basis of our history originates. The Dark Age that follows Roman authority quickly dampens the light for the whole of Europe and the rest of the civilised world (now solitary and divided, scrambling up the scraps of provinciae for tribal benefit). Europe loses valuable ancient manuscripts as the Easterners return to raid the territories (circa 1200 A.D. they level Rome and 1215 they pillage Lugdunum – Paris). However, the separate tribes are soon united to oust the Arabic invaders, and by 1000 A.D. their culture remains but an afterthought, prevalent in only the most remote eastern reaches of Europe: Dacia, Thracia, and the Pontic peninsula.

Strangely, after their victory against their common enemy, the European tribes seem to scatter once more, to unprecedented levels of self-confinement. Muslims in North-East Africa are the most advanced in the world in 1250 A.D., but much like the Roman Empire, a sudden increase in corruption and rebel activity leads to the disintegration of great lands such as Persia (already weakened by the loose and unrespected Turkish Confederation of city-states) and Ethiopia (Today’s Nubia). In the Far East, the Mongols remain a great pillaging threat, preventing the development of any civilisation in the area, but their incursions are now buffered by the Muslim states in the Near East.

Circa 1350 A.D. a small principality called China unites with its neighbours to expel the Mongols in their lands. China becomes the predominant power of the region for centuries after this. The Americas remain (as they always were) an empty land of scattered entities and ideals, with but a few reflections of what could be called primitive civilisation.


But of course, the part that interests us the most is Europe, the cradle of decent civilisation. During the Roman conquests the Lusitanii (inhabitants of Lusitania, present-day Portugal Proper) presented strong resistance to the assimilation into the Latin empire. Having fought many glorious battles with outstanding victories, they were finally submitted to Roman rule in 60 B.C. under the prodigious Caesar Gaius Julius. However suppressed their culture, it survived underground for centuries, until finally resurfacing with Rome’s fall. The Lusitanii never ventured far out of their homelands, and remained but another tribe for over five hundred years. Their homelands were pillaged during the Easterner raids in the thirteenth century and the land rendered infertile by a great plague that threatened to affect humans as well as livestock. It was then the great Lusitanian spirit was broken and they fled to the South, to the strait of Gibraltar. Their fear of another such biologic calamity caused them to build great walls around a small piece of land near the south of the Iberian peninsula. Living off fish and the little livestock they had left they evolved incarcerated by their forefathers, until the Year 1499 when they walked hand in hand towards the East, to settle 25000 of their 45000-strong population into Granadia. This is where the world first saw the glory of Lusitania!

Our story begins.

[Specialist290]

Sounds like an intriguing idea Where can I find the mod, BTW? Looks like something I'd like to try out.

[AmbassadeBelgie]

I made it in the last two hours. Send me an e-mail on sigma77@gmail.com and I can send it to you. Or if you know how to upload scripts please tell me how maybe that's easier (it's only 32kb).

I'm busy writing the first part of the actual AAR now, it should be ready in the next hour or so if you wanna stick around

Book I: Os Treis Reinos Fundadores

[AmbassadeBelgie]

CHAPTER I - A SAÍDA

Our King Manuel I has summoned our best fighters and fishermen to our capital, Gibraltar. 4000 footsoldiers are divided between four heroic gentlemen:

Camoens, Alfonso de Albuquerque, Almeida, and Pêro da Covilhã.

12 fully-equipped warships stand ready under four remarkable Wolves of the Sea:

Vasco da Gama, Gaspard de Corte Real, his elder brother Miguel, and Pedro Alvarez Cabral.

In unison these pioneers will cross our century-old boundaries for a full and historically accurate documentation of what is and has hapenned in the mists of time to the rest of humanity. Lusitania must refind Portugal Proper and thereby give its children a chance to correct the great injustices their ancestors were submitted to- BUT NEVER SUBDUED TO, caralho!

***

1 January 1501

It has been two years since the settling in Granadia and the 7900 natives there have not objected and so they may live. By February they should be completely assimilated into the Lusitanian population there.

The copper Lusitania is now extracting from those lands will ensure high-quality arms and tools and so the advance of a people, OUR people!

Our four-thousand men await orders in Gibraltar as do our twelve shining ships. The time has come to assume the most righteous task any Lusitanian will ever. Men, MARCH!

[Specialist290]

Nifty

Got a few q's about the mod: Did you just take the original Fantasia scenario and add new countries, or are there other changes as well? Also, what other countries did you add? (Don't need a complete list, just a few notable examples will do.)

Email's on the way, BTW.

[AmbassadeBelgie]

CHAPTER II - A MARCHA

Old scriptures suggest Portugal Proper to be somewhere to the North along Gibraltar's West Coast. These claim Lusitania to be three of four parts of a certain Long Northbound Coast, adjacent to the Land of Sun and Wine.

Consequently, Great King Manuel dispatches two of his Expedico~es Terrestras to find this Land of Sun and Wine by following the coastline. For this great task he summoned Camoens and Almeida.

De Albuquerque and Pêro da Covilhã are given the mandate of finding civilisation - ANY civilisation.

Had Camoens known what was to come he would have prepared better, but he was a greatly honoured follower of the maxim DIOS, REY, E PATRIA, so whatever the cost, his beloved Lusitania would become

O IMPÉRIO DA LUSITANIA

"You see those storm clouds?" Camoens is marching next to Almeida, their 2000-strong army grouped behind them. "It's not the season is it?" Almeida remarks, "I expect seasons are different outside the city-walls..."

Camoens shakes his head. "T'is a sign. I knew a peddler who said he'd come from the farms outside the walls. He told me seasons outside are always harsher, and that they always carry a message from God." Almeida stares uneasily at the great formation approaching the army ever so quickly. The clouds were grey with black patches around the centre and on the edges. There was no silver lining. There was no calmness about this formation. There was no Sun, "the bastard's just slipped behind the mountains. It's time to build camp. Almeida, organise a watch."

[AmbassadeBelgie]

Nifty

Got a few q's about the mod: Did you just take the original Fantasia scenario and add new countries, or are there other changes as well? Also, what other countries did you add? (Don't need a complete list, just a few notable examples will do.)

Email's on the way, BTW.

I took (as I usually do) the Fantasia.eug file, copy-pasted a country section and modded the known,controlled,owned,national provs, modded the techs to each country, etc. etc.

Although I must admit the 4 conquistadors AND 4 explorers was a strange occurence. I'd forgotten Fantasia starts in 1501 and that Portugal is in pure expansion phase then

For other countries, well there's MANY. I won't spoil the surprise but I will tell you that two civilisations are to be found on the Iberian peninsula!

Also, Portugal begins as PROTESTANT. Although my reasons for this will soon be explained for gameplay purposes I mean it to suggest Lusitanian religion has harshly diverged from the catholic branch in its many centuries' isolation

[Specialist290]

I see. Must make for an interesting setup I'll try it out once I get it d/led onto my comp--and I'll be reading this AAR, of course

[AmbassadeBelgie]

CHAPTER III - A TRAIÇÃO

It had rained backbreakingly on the Lusitanian army for two solid hours as they bivouacked at the foot of a great mountain- greater than any mountain they had seen before -it must have reached the sky, and Camoens- without telling anyone this -began to strongly suspect it was their presence that angered the mountain. For some strange occult reason he felt they didn't belong here. That they were unwanted here. That they were being watched. "HAAA!" Camoens stiffens: Almeida, who had been leaning against him while they both tried to get some sleep suddenly awoke, his incessant cries piercing the already pitchblack night.

Some lower-rank officials began to moan, others murmured awake or in their sleep only the most foreboding of things. Camoens knew this. He had dreamt the same dream as all of them: A black hole at the foot of a giant with lightning arms, followed by a sudden rise and an eternal fall. It was this dream that had tormented and awoken him and it was now working its magic on Almeida and the others.

Camoens couldn't continue this way. he stood up briskly, covered his shoulders with the blanket he had held over his head to lessen the cold rain's bone-chilling effect. With his support having stood up, Almeida crashed to the ground, the cold wet mud sticking to his fingers and a single, solitary clover brushing his nose as he his face just above the mud. Almeida was definitely awake now, and just as he was about to smash the clover, wet mud and all in his anger, he noticed something about it: It had three green leaves and a yellowed fourth leaf. He had heard his mother speak of these clovers as a child, these mysterious and pathogenic herbs which grow outside Gibraltar's walls.

"The Prophecy!!!" Almeida shrieked, standing up and half-running, half-slipping making his way over and around bivouacking countrymen to Camoens who in all this time had only walked a good fifteen steps from all the commotion, and had stopped on a crest. "The Prophecy the Prophecy the Prophecy!!!" Almeida called and called but Camoens seemed not to worry. And for good reason.

Below him stretched out the valley under the officers' hill, the land curving smoothly around the 2000 Lusitanian soldiers, their campfires smouldering in a most uncommon manner. The black clouds had by now surrounded the valley and lightning could be seen on the other side of the valley. As the fires weakened and the lightning became increasingly recurrent Almeida understood that it was already to late. "The Prophecy" he mumbled as he stood mouth-agape next to Camoens who was surveiling the events occuring in the valley below. "It's a trap," Camoens said calmly, and that instant the sly Andalusian natives cut his throat.

[AmbassadeBelgie]

CHAPTER IV - A CHEGADA DA JORGE

The Land of Wine and Sun had been found, alright, but the complete extermination of 2000 Lusitanians left little wine at Manuel I's lips and certainly no gleaming sunshine in his heart. Luckily for Lusitania the complete extermination of the two expeditions ensured the fear of the Prophecy, Almeida's final utterances, would never be connected to the failure in Andalusia.

This meant that instead of fear of the unknown, the military policy would base itself on the vengeance of the poor souls lost in the heathen territories that separated Gibraltar from Portugal Proper.

King Manuel I was, in effect, unsure of how to proceed. He was seriously considering bringing the Church into the matter. Instead, however, he called on his nephew-in-law, Jorge de Lencastre, Governor of Granadia and always a useful counsel to give.

Upon Jorge's arrival, however, the King hesitated. His nephew-in-law had always been very objective, and he was governed by a most egocentric and flexible set of ethics. His views of religion, murder, and everything else were always dependent of his own life.



In two minutes Jorge already knew the answer to the King's dilemma:
"They have a strange religion in Andalusia. I fear it is the same religion the natives of Granadia preserved when they were assimilated into our city there. Their religion commands that women be veiled and that men marry more than one woman simultaneously! It's preposterous, but it's gaining ground and a part of our originally Lusitanian citizens are beginning to sympathise and even convert.

"I understand the religion is called islam....either that or Moor, I'm not quite sure. But the important thing is it's spreading through the Realm and we cannot control it! Us Lusitanians are incompatible with such concepts.

"I know I'D rather SEE a pretty lady before I do anything binding, and I'd rather leave the next day than have fifty wives constantly following me with incessant nagging... There's only one solution:

"convert and otherwise expel the heretics from this side of the Sea. You know parts of Tangiers have just been mapped by His Honour Vasco da Gama. I hear they support the same religion (can it be called a religion?) over there..."

Manuel seemed unconvinced: "But wouldn't they found an enemy country, then?" Jorge- as pragmatic as ever- had the answer to this too: "There's a more peaceful technique if you want..." Manuel doubted anything coming from Jorge would ever be pacific...but Jorge just went on: "CONVERT ALL THOSE HERETICS TO SOLDIERS! Sure it'll be costly, but it's just as effective, and we won't need to fear repercussion!"

Clearly Jorge's proposals were not the diplomatic way out, but they did make sense in a heartless sort of way. Jorge's pragmatism showed he would have made a great ruler. Only sad that a great and skilled ruler such as Manuel wasn't cold-hearted enough to protect himself from his greedy kin...

***

After two months 11'500 Granadians and 6750 Gibraltans would be ready to face battle, while their non-recruitable families were deported to Tangiers. a good 3400 people would forcibly cross the Strait of Gibraltar and settle on the other side. Meanwhile their estranged brothers, fathers, and sons would form the bulk of Lusitania's land forces, and march to avenge Camoens, Almeida, and the others whose lives had been claimed on the cold night sands of Muslim Andalusia. The Reconquista would be short and ruthless.

Andalusia...soon, according to Manuel I's recent dream on the subject... They include strange equine creatures that have been described generation-through-generation but have as of yet not been re-found in Lusitania.


Before the savegame tamper that will effectuate the conversions. 9000 good Christian soldiers are already in training, and Afonso de Albuquerque has just sent a dispatch to Gibraltar with the great message: "We are not alone."

[AmbassadeBelgie]

SAVEGAME EDIT

MILITARY

Created a new land unit: "Reconquistadores" led by leader "Jorge"

historical leader Jorge:
fire = 2 #ordinary... no scientist
shock = 5 #ruthless
movement = 5 #has a painful whip ;-)
deathdate = not telling you
morale = 0.500 #conscription is not the best of morale-boosters

ADMINISTRATIVE

Moved 11500 people from Granada to "Reconquistadores"
Moved 6750 people from Gibraltar to "Reconquistadores"
Moved 3000 people from Granada to Tangiers
Moved 400 people from Gibraltar to Tangiers
Moved 2000 people from Granada to <<void>> (lost in transition)
Moved 200 people from Gibraltar to <<void>> (lost in transition)

So after this, GIBRALTAR population:
20091 => 12741
and the GRANADA population:
28993 => 12493
and the natives in Tangiers went up by 3400, aggressiveness (9)...

Gibraltar and Granada convert to Catholic (they were by default Sunni. For some reason I type in "religion = Protestant" and they show up as Catholic...?)

Government
Quality goes from 5 to 3 #our whole army consists of unvoluntary conscripts!
Centralisation goes from 4 to 6 #orders must be obeyed!
Innovativeness goes from 1 to 0 #conservative religious purge...

Badboy from 0.000 to 1.000 (or is that a bit harsh?)
Some monarchbirthanddeathdate mods you don't need to worry about

***

Hope you enjoyed the first part of ESPERA MUMDI (I have no idea what it means, it was simply written in Manuel I's personal blazon iirc (image on screenshot in Post #1, found on wikipedia).

...
I'm going to sleep now.

[Saulta]

This is great, I love alternative history,

Keep up the good work!

[AmbassadeBelgie]

CHAPTER V - EQUUS

14 June, 1501

Jorge’s sudden demands when it came to who would lead the task force “Reconquistadores” made Manuel I increasingly nervous. It was not unlike his nephew-in-law to be unethical, but to want to lead the very people he’d kicked out of their homes…? Manuel would have gone on to deciding Jorge was too great a liability for Lusitania, had the man himself not entered the room at that precise moment.

With but a few brief but political explanations Jorge made it clear in Manuel’s mind that he was the only Lusitanian with enough balls to control an unruly conscript group such as that. Manuel let himself be swayed once more, and gave Jorge complete control over the 27250-strong army: 18250 Sunni scum and 9000 brave and exemplary Lusitanian soldiers. This one regiment now consisted of 93% of Lusitania’s land forces, all under the control of one man: Jorge.

But Manuel wasn’t worried. He knew his nephew-in-laws ethics were skewed, but his value of family couldn’t be swayed… But just to make sure- you know, just in case- Manuel proceeded to name Jorge to Field Marshal, for there was no way Jorge could ever repay Manuel for showering such honours upon him. With all this, Manuel finally decided to believe his position as king was kept secure, even from his greedy unethical kin.

15 June, 1501

Jorge got slowly up from his kneeling position and looked over the cheering 27k-strong army of infantry that now cheered at him. He was now officially Field Marshal Jorge, Governor of Granadia, and Counsellor to the King. His aspirations knew no bounds, however, and so all these honours and the money that accompanied them did not make him happy. But this he put aside for now, for he had to march for Andalusia immediately. There was no time to waste.

***

A mounted messenger made his way through the desert farms not far off from the recently founded city of Jerez where, it appeared, spectacular liquor with magical processes had been discovered. The city was growing in size, but thankfully was Lusitanian, and so there was little to fear from incursions: Invaders would stop and try the potion and- for lack of resistance to such alcoholic beverages- would forget about attacking.

In the distance the messenger saw Jorge’s army marching northwards, and he proceeded to gallop on the rudimentary earthen roads that led to him.

The rear-guard noticed the strange equine creature and the poor soul it had captured and was now carrying on its back to its lair for supper. A message was quickly propelled from the back to the front of the column through the ranks of unnerved soldiers: “A beast is carrying a man to its lair, and it’s headed straight for us!”

When the message reached Jorge the beast was but twenty steps away. But its prey simply sat calmly on its back, and for a while it seemed it was the prey- a man- who controlled the beast!



And it was so. The messenger jumped off his mount and made slowly for Jorge. At once he was surrounded from all sides by the armed guard. “What is that beast?” Jorge demanded. The poor and misunderstood messenger regurgitated words in such a nervous manner one of the guards kicked him, roaring that Field Marshal Jorge could never understand this sobbing word-vomit and would the villain please explain himself better?

But Jorge had understood more than the guard anticipated, and the messenger’s second explanation only told the rest of the nearby soldiers what Jorge already knew:

“We are not alone. A land called CATALUNHA presides over the land to the East, along the coast. They are larger in territory but slightly behind us in terms of technological warfare… Although it must be said they have some different techniques from ours: Instead of bivouacking in the open and at the mercy of wind and hail, they have contraptions called “tents” that are like foldable houses. Also, they have “archers” that can shoot pieces of wood and kill men from a hundred steps’ distance! But the most remarkable of their techniques is that they use animals as a means of transportation, like this “Caballo (kaba<dj>o)”.” “Caba-lho” some guards and soldiers try to mouth the new word.

Jorge didn’t need the rest of the messenger’s explanation to know the advantage of such mounted killing machines. Immediately he envisioned horses with spiked noses and metal sides to protect them from infantry as the rider goes forth, cutting and slashing through a mass of enemy troops with axes and swords.

“Go to Gibraltar immediately and make as many of these mounted regiments as you can! Also tell King Manuel nothing of this.” The messenger would have inquired as to why… but Jorge’s ruthlessness was notoriously famous. So instead he calmed Jorge by saying- which was true- that “Manuel knows nothing of the tents, archers, and equines, but of Catalunha he has heard. I thought it best to report to you first on the military knowledge.” Jorge seemed satisfied. “Make sure nobody contacts the King abut military techniques. His mind is troubled enough as it is by all this.”

The messenger understood, nodded and greeted Jorge before setting off- on glorious horseback- for Gibraltar. By the time he got there Andalusia would be liberated.

Jorge’s beautiful dream, that night, of all technologies he would discover and create when he’d taken over the world.

[AmbassadeBelgie]

CHAPTER VI - A VENGANÇHA

Manuel I of Lusitania was overjoyed. Great whooping could be heard throughout the Palace. His efforts and his risk-taking had finally paid off! There were others who survived the great plague! Others who were- it seemed- also just coming out of their shell! There were no words in the Lusitanian language to describe Manuel’s utter joy but the churchgoers’ chanting came close enough.

Fifteen days of thanksgiving were given to the honour of Afonso de Albuquerque for discovering this people, and all of his men were given a paid leave of one month.

Apprentices in the churches and monasteries began to show their interest in teaching the next civilisation of our glorious religion, and of learning of how they worshipped God. Manuel himself visited all the Gibraltar monasteries and hand picked twenty apprentices and five elders to go document the cultural activities of the Catalanes.

Lusitania was in motion: More and more Granadians expressed their desire to settle in Murçha- an empty land separating Catalunha from Granadia much like Andalusia separates Gibraltar from what is hopefully Portugal Proper (Vasco da Gama’s sea charts indicate it probably is, but maybe that was simply to get in the King’s favour…).

Consequently, Manuel told the temporary Governor of Granadia (a clerk who worked for Jorge in his absence) to prepare a charter of one hundred men to settle in Murçha.

***

Jorge unwittingly arrives in his splendorous Marshall’s uniform on the same crest where Camoens met his death. It’s almost noon and the men are becoming increasingly exhausted, their steps slipping further back on the soft desert sands than they manage to move forwards.

Consequently Jorge orders a short halt, under the cooling shadow of the Great Mountain. It is now visible this mountain is but part of a long and tall mountain range. One which Jorge baptises after his own name: A Serra Jorgeana.

In the distance Jorge spies a group of natives- about three-hundred men- making their way towards the depression in the land, where- like Camoens before him- Jorge had placed his grand army.

By noon these savages arrive at the borders of the camp. Held in custody by three guards their pretentious leader- a wrinkled old man with whitened hair and blue-grey eyes- is brought to Jorge. They speak a strange tongue but Jorge soon finds an interpreter- a man from Jerez who once ventured into these parts and knows their language on a rudimentary level. Immediately the ancient leader begins with a stream of seemingly incomprehensible words:

“Deohsez! Sahbez ke noh ez nesesaryo mahntehnermeh azi! Zentehmonoz ih ahblehmoz kohmo ombrez!”
The interpreter takes a while but then proclaims:
“He wants to sit down and make you speak like a man…?...!”
Jorge is surprised. “Are you sure that’s what he said?” The interpreter nods securely.
“Okay, translate this now, word for word:”

”You Sunni scum you killed Camoens and Almeida and so many great and upstanding Lusitanii you will die for this pig!”

The interpreter contemplates this…then proceeds:
“Belykos Sunnii, uztedz matahron ah Camoens ih Almeida ih tahntoz utroz. Morihrann!”

The native leader seems unaffected by this sudden outburst:
“Tehk mi toh joer líder.”

The interpreter stands silent. Jorge is uncertain how to react. “Goddamn you I don’t know what you’re saying! Interpreter, what’s he saying!” The interpreter shrugs.

“Tehk mi toh joer líder.” The native repeats.

“I think it’s a northeners’ dialect” the interpreter suggests, but that just feeds the fire.

“DIALECT? YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO UNDERSTAND THIS! HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO SPEAK WITH OUR LONG LOST PORTUGUESE BROTHERS IF YOU DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND THESE PEOPLE?!”

“Tehk mi toh joer líder.” The native calmly interrupts.

A guard seems to understand: “He can speak our tongue, Your Honour. I believe he says take me to your lidders.”

“What?” We don’t need lids, Jorge thinks. “WE’RE NOT A JAM-POTTING BAND OF BROTHERS YOU PILE OF CABALHO-MANURE! NOW TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT OR I’LL STRIKE YOU DOWN AND YOUR FIFTY LITTLE FOLLOWERS DOWN THERE!” Jorge points to the bottom of the valley, where the remaining natives had been held back.

The guards are gone.

The three hundred natives are gone.

There’s just one big mass of native soldiers, probably about six thousand, surrounding the grand army. “WHY DIDN’T ANYONE TELL ME THIS WAS HAPENNING?” Jorge roared. He unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the native leader’s neck. “STOP THEM OR YOU DIE AND YOUR FAMILY DIES AND YOUR PETS DIE AND I FEED YOU ALL TO THE RATS, THEN BOTTLE YOU AND MARKET YOU AS EAU DE NATIVE!”

The native’s fear shines from his wrinkled eyes. “Duhn’t kiel mih! Ay’m noeht da líder. Ve’r dyust enozent pazifiztz. Ve ver forsd teuh bitrey jooh. Protekd uz frumm zehm pliz! Ve behg jooh…” This all came out with such speed that nobody understood what he said. Nobody apart from Jorge.

Pacifist natives? We cannot show mercy. That would mean the end of Lusitanian colonisation and expansion! No. They live on the same lands as the warmongering Sunnii, and so they must perish for posterity:

“I don’t understand you,” Jorge calmly says as his sword transverses the ageing man.

Jorge encourages his men and heads down to support his wavering army.

***

“This bloody day marks the beginning of a new era.” Jorge says as he surveys his army looting the dead natives. It had taken Jorge three further assaults on the native camps before they were driven from Andalusia. Few escaped; mostly the nimblest women and children made it to surrounding provinces but the men have all been slain, young or old. “Organise the army, tomorrow we head for the Long Northbound Coast. Oh, and send a message to King Manuel: The Sunnii are slain, and the best strategy from here on is to send settlers to Andalusia to support and supply our troops in Portugal Proper.

Os RECONQUISTADORES vençheran!”

***

Manuel was overjoyed at the news that his ennemies in Andalusia had been eradicated. He had no knowledge of them being Sunni. As a matter of fact it seemed more each day that Manuel was reverting into a child-like state of mind, where he lets Jorge resolve everything for him.

Upon hearing that the Sunni in Murçha had been converted to the great Lusitanian religion by the colonists (one hundred brave souls) who had successfully settled there Manuel decided it was time for a little escapade. He would join Jorge in the field, and together they would find Portugal Proper!

[CatKnight]

Gibraltar and Granada convert to Catholic (they were by default Sunni. For some reason I type in "religion = Protestant" and they show up as Catholic...?)

This part I can answer thanks to Tannenberg. The command fails until the Protestant Reformation hits (the flag is activated.) Until then there can be no Protestant provinces by definition. Even if you look at say Hussite Bohemia, the COUNTRY is Protestant...that's fine...but the provinces stay Catholic.

[AmbassadeBelgie]

Ah, OK thanks. I'll use F12>luther in-scenario then

Hope you're all enjoying reading it as much as I do writing it

[AmbassadeBelgie]

CHAPTER VII - A SANTÍSSIMA APPARIÇÃO

August 14, 1501

Manuel I had gathered one hundred soldiers- either he wanted to travel light or he was imprudent/unconscious of the dangers of the outside world- and headed for Andalusia to catch up with Jorge. If Jorge was going to enter Portugal Proper, Manuel- who was the King- wanted to be there with him.




Unfortunately for Manuel- or fortunately, on second thought- As soon as his army had reached Andalusia Jorge had already made contact with the enemy natives of Algarve: They received a very warm welcome to their ancestral homelands.

***

October 20, 1501

Jorge surveys as his chief cartographer commands his subordinates. This path had to be recorded, for it led to what could very well be the promised land of Portugal Proper!

And so it was: Great whoops of joy resounded through the morning desert as some resting soldiers discovered an old stone sculpture in the sand. It was God’s symbol: the Holy Cross, which- lost in time- once suspended His Son before the treacherousness of Rome. Many Lusitanii had related with Him for suffering at the hands of the common oppressor, and His Father was soon adopted by the Lusitanii as a formal religion, much like happened with the rest of civilisation, and at one point even Rome itself!

The soldiers were unaware of this, however, and simply perceived the symbol as reminisce of home, and their joyous calls beckoned Jorge to come closer.

Jorge scrutinised the piece of stone, which was fixed in the sand, strangely. He soon discovered- as had the other soldiers- that it was not movable, and so proceeded to dig in the sands that had engulfed its base.

What appeared then was something that stayed in the hearts and souls of each and every soldier, officer, louse, and bird present, and changed the course of history.

A gleaming light emerged where the base of the Cross was uncovered, and so bright that Jorge was forced- as were the others- to step backwards, away from the Cross, exposing a Divine Image.

It was Him, embodied in that gleaming white light, and He said in a booming but soft voice:
“Lusitanii you are the fabric of humanity. You shall rule these lands, your lands, those which were once torn from you by Rome’s plagues!

With that the light disappeared, and a great gust of wind cleared the base of the Cross further. It was a stone platform. Upon revision they discovered it was an old shrine, and immediately proclaimed it sacred. God Himself had visited these parts to show the Lusitanii the way home, and now by God they would take it!


No longer than a quarter-hour and they made contact with the southernmost of the Algarve natives. When the interpreters pronounced who this great army of 25000 men was there was a rush of pride throughout the ranks of Lusitanian soldiers.

This quickly faded away when the leading native walked calmly past the chief interpreter, as if in veneration of the grand army stationed before him. But just as soon he sliced the interpreter’s head off with a concealed falcata:



Jorge immediately called his troops to attention, as the interpreters ran back towards them, closely followed by over 6000 natives Aggressiveness (9). The Lusitanii, it seemed, would have to fight long and hard for their sacred homelands, but the Cross Temple was with them, and God Himself had honoured them by appearing. They were blessed, and so blessed they marched on to the struggle of a people.

[AmbassadeBelgie]

SAVEGAME further mod:

Corrected some CoT’s (mostly creating some, because the game wouldn’t automatically raise the #of CoT’s to 22…).

Corrected some country religions

Also in-game I used F12>luther to get the protestants visible

Messed about with leaders and monarchs some more…

And turned on fog of war (for some strange reason it was still off from scenario-building… I thought I’d turned it on. I was wondering how it was I could see Fez in daylight without any adjacent ships! )

But that’s about it

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