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The House on the Hill, Hydra District, Algiers, July 1935.


The Field Marshall was sat at the table with his government. His new government. There had been talk about some of those brought to a position of power by those who trod in the corridors of the house on the hill. He was not too concerned with it however, for today he had awoken from the strangest dream. In it, She had appeared to him once again, and told him to look towards France, for France had given the seeds of Carthage., and there the storm would break... eventually.
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He had awoken with her still on his mind in the early hours of the morning, and had looked out of the window. It was near dawn, and he had heard a lion's roar. He had risen from his bed, and stood on the parapet above his garden, and seen the lion that was more like a wolf than anything he'd seen on the Veldt, saw the Dove sat on the treebranch above it, and had looked up, toward the morning star and it seemed to flicker in reply to his looking.

And so, he looked North and West, towards Marseilles, or Massilia as She named it. After a moment he lent over in his chair and pointed it out to De La Rocque, as the sky darkened, brooding clouds emerging from nowhere. "There, do you see it?"

The Colonel stood and squinted... "I think I do. Is this what you brought us out here for?"
"This is proof, to all of us."
"Proof of what, mon Marshal?"
"They are real..."

The words were not out of his mouth before the darkness, but not the clouds rolled southwards, putting the shores of Northern Africa beneath a Twilight Gloom...
 
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Algiers, July 17th, 1935

The twilight had been hanging over the coast for almost two weeks now. The only star visible in that time had been the morningstar. A hasty arrangement had been made, and food from the Cote d'Ivoire was making it's way North across the Sahara. Those things which would perish on the journey were being bought from Spain.

Despite the absence of the light, the air was still warm, though a touch more humid. Initially the people had panicked and the armed forces, not too certain themselves had rallied around Petain after he released an announcement stating that martial law was in effect. The North Coast had settled to a calm shortly afterwards.

In the meantime, the 1ere Flotte de la Nouvelle Carthage had docked at Algiers and the renaming had been commenced. Of the pocket-battleships, they had been renamed Hannibal, Dido and Hamilcar. The Cruisers were now Leptis Magna, Utica and Gades. They were now on picket duty, in the Gibraltar passage, redirecting foreign craft away from the darkened shores.
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Petain also ordered the restructuring of the armed forces, with the army corps being renamed to various Legio names. Legio I Carthage and Legio IV Hospes were stationed in Algiers for the moment. Legio II Gades and Legio III Leptis Parva had been redeployed across the stinging sands of the Sahara to the Ivory Coast in order to ensure the Naval bases at Dakar was secure and the Abidjian Passage were guarded respectively.

All of this had not passed without comment within international circles, but with Petain's strengthened position his rule was popular in Nouvelle Carthage or National France, depending on who you spoke to, for the calm manner in which he had dealt with the mysterious darkness.​
 
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Carthage! Wow the AAR title sure rocks! :)
 
^ seconded :D.
 
Dakar, 25th July 1935

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Admiral Jean-Francois Darlan sat at his desk in the Commissariat in the Medina district. The troops stood at his desk with quiet aplomb. The Colonel from I Cohort of III Legio 'Gades' scratched under his collar lightly for a moment. The two lieutenants behind him were stockstill. Darlan noted the calmness of their eyes thoughtfully and lifted the piece of paper he'd been handed fifteen minutes ago.

Darlan reread the telegram sent to him and then looked up at the Colonel again. "I think that I understand the telegram, but the time involved... It would take at least two years just to disassemble the works and nevermind relocating them..."

"Mon Admiral, the III Legio has been given explicit orders to assist in the deconstruction and transportation of the shipyards currently located here." The Colonel spoke in the clipped tone of one used to giving orders and having them done.

The Admiral nodded thoughtfully. "And, why is this being done?"
"I just follow orders, Sir. If it's any consolation, these came directly from the House on the Hill as far as I am aware."
A faint nod this time and another look at the two stock still lieutenants. "I see... I'll have something arranged. Have the division down here tomorrow at nine and you'll have your" He paused and chuckled softly for a moment. "Do excuse me. You'll have your marching orders..."

The soldiers nodded politely and spun on their heels, walking out.​

Rome, July 25th, 1935
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Pius XI was not a young man. The news of this North African shadow was not making him feel any younger either. As he walked down the corridor in the Vatican, he listened to young Xavier de Bourbon Parma for awhile. "As you can see father, something is stirring to our South... Should you sponsor a Carlist Uprising in Spain, we would assure you we shall give Catholic values a more prominant place... and we will deal with this mysterious Twilight - Petain is obviously up to something... unnatural"

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The Pope nodded slowly. "Perhaps Xavier, what is not needed at this point in time, is not a Carlist Spain, but a Carlist Burgundy..." For a moment he wondered why he had said it, but he could see the young man had seized upon the idea. "Perhaps you are right Father... Perhaps you are right. I shall fly to Berlin..."​
 
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The Victoria Memorial Building, Ottawa, Canada, July 26th 1935


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King George the Fifth sat in his chair by the window. Today had not been a good day, and he felt like every breath was a stab in the ribs. He looked over at Mackenzie King for a moment, and then his son, Edward. "Come on. Why the bloody hell are you both here to speak with me at once? King, you barely show your face unless it's bloody urgent.. Edward.." He left the rest unsaid and instead reached for the canister and took a gasping breath of oxygen. "Where's Albert..." He glanced around the room for a moment.

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The door opened, but it was not Albert who stepped through, but rather a faintly flustered looking Maurice Duplessis. "Bonjour, mon Roi..."

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Edward looked at King and then Duplessis and seemed to bite down the urge to sneer before he spoke to his father. "It is about National France, Father... the events there have concerned us of late. This mystery twilight that they claim to have no understanding nor control over... and this Nouvelle Carthage thing..." King interrupted by coughing firmly. "The point of the matter is, I don't think we can trust the French, Sire..."

George took another gasp from his oxygen. "Bloody Pleurisy's been giving me gyp. And what do you want me to do about it anyway? They're bloody French. What do you expect?"

Dupleissis seemed incensed for a moment. "Monsieur!" George turned slowly in his chair and merely stared at him. Dupleissis broke eyecontact first.

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Mackenzie King continued. "Perhaps so, sire, but we are at a loss of what to do."

George wheezed. "Do nothing. Not yet. Wait, perhaps Petain has a trick up his sleeve that will regain us Albion. Now, go... I've enough on my mind without you all standing around and giving me more to think about."

They all left the room, Edward with a muttered "Bloody Colonial" as King walked smartly out infront of him. Another knock came on the door, and his nine year old grand-daughter peeped her head around the door, then ran in and gave the King a hug, causing George to flinch slightly. He wheezed. "Hello Lilibet..."​
 
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"Bloody Pleurisy's been giving me gyp. And what do you want me to do about it anyway? They're bloody French. What do you expect?"

Dupleissis seemed incensed for a moment. "Monsieur!"

That is funny. :D
 
Carthage? It's time to get revenge for the Punic Wars! Onwards to Rome! Death to Italia!
On a note that is actually about this ARR:
I'm already liking this but hey, when has the Kaiser ever let anyone down? *WWI* ;)

Crilly
 
Thinks somehow keep getting weirder and more interesting at the same time. Keep up the good work...
 
Cartagena, 429
Gaiseric looked out over the vast flotilla of ships that had been assembled. The last armies had arrived the day previous, and the city was alive and full of sound behind him, as he regarded the docks. The sun was setting on the last day in Iberia, and Gaiseric found himself full of tension and nervousness. For Tomorrow, the Vandals sailed for Africa. Tomorrow was the day that the die would be cast. He looked to the evening star for a moment and then turned and walked up the street. Tomorrow the die would be cast.​

Cartagena, 478
Euric looked out over the waters of the Mediterranean as the sun rose and he knew well Gaiseric's feat. The old man was dead though, and his people would be busy electing themselves a new King. Flavius Orestes and his puppet were dead and 'King' Odoacer was a foederatus from the forest who didn't know wood floated. The Hunnic whelp would soon learn that it did.

Vandal Carthage would end, and Visigoth Carthage would rise, as the Prophet Gundakar had predicted. The fleet was gathered and the swords were sharp. Their fate was in the hands of the Gods, but the skies were clear... The doddering form of Gundakar was beside him suddenly as the sun continued it's ascent. "Euric. Melkar watches over us. The passage will be eased."

Euric smiled to himself. Success was assured.​
 
The Visigoths never took Carthage; and Cartagena would have been Cartago Novo at this point in time. In addition, Odoacer was a Heruli, never a Hun. Vandal Carthage ended with the reign of Gelimer and the Justinian reconquest. At this point, Vandals were sold to Visigoths while the women became wives of Byzantine soldiers.

Anyways. . . great AAR, even if it is French. Take Sicily, Corsica, Sardinia, Malta and the Balearics; all belong now to Syndies, and all once belonged to the Qarthadashtim.
Petain can be Hamilcar, and De Gaulle, after being infused with more awesome, can be Hasdrubal or Mago Barca. Nobody can be Hannibal; he is too mighty to be embodied by the French. Maybe Rommel or Guderian can be Hannibal, but not De Gaulle.
 
I will remind you of Game Tip #99. 'Hearts of Iron 2 is a game, not a historical simulator'

Odoacer's family were part of a tribe who were subject to the Huns
Vandal/Visigoth Carthage... I'm taking liberties with history, as we all do. Points for guessing who Melkar is and who he corresponds to?