Yes, that was what I was referring to. I would be very glad to invent another award for you though.
What about ''Best Modern-Day Roman Emperor''?
What about ''Best Modern-Day Roman Emperor''?
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Yes, that was what I was referring to. I would be very glad to invent another award for you though.
What about ''Best Modern-Day Roman Emperor''?
Perhaps...
Chapter 42, part 1: Savoy goes too far!
1 October 1670, Palazzo di Farnese, outskirts of Rome
Peter I, Emperor of Italy, took a moment to look out on his Empire. One of the reasons he'd ordered the palace constructed outside the heart of the city was to have a little solitude on mornings like this one. He stared at the sunrise and sighed. His heart was heavy.
The Emperor was not the least bit repentant about his actions towards the King of France. Everything he had done had been for the good of the Empire. Everything he had ever done was for the Empire. He'd sacrificed everything he'd had for his homeland, for his people.
Especially Dominique.
Perhaps the worst part of the last few years was the lies that his supposed Interior Minister had been feeding him. When he finally learned the truth, his heart shattered. But now, dry of eye and clear of mind, he was ready to lead. To lead his people into the 18th century, or at least do the best he could. He owed that, not only to pay for his crimes, but for his only son. Francesco had grown up almost entirely without the influence of his father, and Peter was man enough to know that was probably a good thing.
He found himself becoming much more introspective. Peter smiled, just for a moment. I've been Emperor for ten years. My son is six years old. I've been no good for either one. What would my father have done? Would he be proud of me?
A very soft rapt on the door broke his reverie. "Enter, please."
Baron David O'Connor bowed to the Emperor. "Your Majesty, I have the documents prepared for you to sign."
Peter nodded. "I heard your father passed on while I was ill. You have my deepest sympathies; I can think of no man who did more for the Empire."
David's second bow was much deeper than the first. "You are very kind, sir. The newly expanded Ireland has agreed to become part of our Sphere of Influence; they are naturally hesitant to sign a formal alliance, but I've had word from my distant cousin that that may change in a year or two. What shall I do with the money raised from the sales?"
Peter thought for a moment. "Thanks in large part to my brother, our economy is booming. The State has no need for a mere 100 ducats. You may spend it as you wish. Consider it a wedding gift; I heard you are finally to wed the young Kathleen?"
David blushed. "Er, yes, sire. We're waiting until the spring."
Peter clapped his Baron on the shoulder. "Wonderful news indeed! If there's nothing else, you are free to leave."
David paused for a moment, then turned back towards the Emperor. "It's good to have you back, Emperor."
Peter's grin was half-hearted. "That remains to be seen, my friend, but I thank you for the sentiment nonetheless. Please send in the Marshal, if you would."
David bowed a third time. "Of course."
A few moments later, Peter's old Commander entered. "Emperor, you're looking well today."
"As are you, Marshal. Is the arm still bothering you?"
Jacopo Contadino rubbed the spot where his arm had been. He winked. "Only every day, sir. Nothing new about that."
A small chuckle left Peter's lips, then he gestured the Marshal to sit.
"I have just the one thing to report today, sir. Field Marshal della Torre recommended we open an Engineering School at the Germanicus Academy, particularly with the emphasis on artillery. I think an Imperial Engineering Corps is a fine idea."
Peter nodded. "I have long since trusted your judgment, Marshal. That makes good sense to me; I will give you whatever funds you require."
Jacopo saluted. "It shall be done, sir. The Field Marshal will be pleased." He watched the Emperor turn back toward the window with some concern. "May your old Commander offer some advice, Emperor?"
"Of course. Only a fool rejects advice."
Jacopo took a deep breath. "Emperor, we all loved Dominique. But an Emperor needs an Empress. Francesco hardly ever sees you, and it's never good for a boy to grow up not knowing his father. You need somebody."
For a brief moment, Peter's temper began to flare. His right hand drifted towards the pistol he still kept at his belt. He choked back tears, and without turning around, replied.
"You may be right, Marshal. But it is much too soon. Perhaps someday."
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3 July 1671, Imperial Throne Room, Palazzo di Farnese, Rome
Lan Zhu was Deputy Foreign Minister and a Baron of the Empire. But every single man, woman, and child had one overriding fear in the Empire of Italy, no matter their rank or office.
That fear was being the one to deliver bad news to the Emperor. The old women no longer called him "Peter the Mad" among themselves, but his moods were still less than stable. If any man ever needed the calming influence of a woman, our Emperor is that man, the Manchurian quietly said to himself. Worse still, he'd delivered this exact news a few days before.
The Emperor was sitting in the throne, munching on some fruit, but immediately began to flush upon seeing Lan Zhu.
"Baron, you are beginning to be quite the raven. What is it this time?"
Lan Zhu gulped. "Emperor, the Holy Roman Emperor has requested the return of Franche-Comte."
A loud bang startled the Deputy Foreign Minister. "Roman?! ROMAN?! The buffoon in Savoy is little more than a shell for Austria! The words 'Damned German Empire' once filled the lungs of my ancestors; just because their so-called Emperor jabbers his meaningless proclamations in Latin instead of German, he is no Roman. He is a coward! No true man makes threats and does not back them up. It is time they are punished, Baron. Draw up a declaration of war and have the Marshal come to my throne room."
Steeling his courage, Lan Zhu spoke up. "But Emperor, isn't that a bit h--"
Peter's voice dropped many orders of magnitude. That actually made him much more terrifying. "Baron, your concern is noted. Do as I command or I shall find someone who will."
The Baron bowed. "I- I shall do as you order, s-sir."
A very terrified Lan Zhu walked past the Marshal, who looked up from the report he'd just been handed.
"He did it, didn't he?"
"Yes, Marshal."
A long sigh from the Marshal punctuated the silence. War had come to Italy once again.
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17 September 1671, Slavonia, Transdanubia provincia
A punitive expedition to punish Savoy had turned much uglier than anybody anticipated. The Fourth Legion -- 'Neapolis' -- had advanced into Savoie from Franche-Comte. Unfortunately, it wasn't just Savoy that Italy faced.
The Damned German Emperor had called upon Castille, the defender of the Catholic Faith, and Castille had called upon Austria. Italy now confronted a three front war.
Chief of the General Staff Vittorio di Medici was ordered to Bearn to defend any Castillian advance; scouts had reported that the King's armies had indeed begun moving east. The Third Legion made its own plans to invade the Castillian-held province of Melilla in North Africa.
With Field Marshal della Torre preparing defenses in case Switzerland invaded Italy proper, two legions initially crossed the Austrian frontier with no general.
However, the sighting of a large Austrian army forced Marshal Contadino to scramble, and a young, untested General took the field.
Romeo Doria-Landi was a teacher, at heart. His father had been an influential architect in Constantinople, and for his service had steadily advanced up the cursus honorum. Although his father had never attained the rank of Baron, the combination of even minor noble status and Romeo's own academic talents earned him a prime place at the University of Rome. In addition to teaching engineering, Romeo also served as an instructor in horsemanship. It was in this secondary capacity that he encountered a very promising student.
Sforza Maria di Farnese, now Commandant of the Germanicus Academy and Interior Minister.
With few battle-tested officers, the Interior Minister put his favorite teacher's name in for military service, and so a man who'd never so much as fired a musket was now a General. Many of the Professor's students cheered on their instructor when he got the news.
As for Romeo, he was actually scared to death.
What did he know of war?
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18 November 1671, Gorz, Austria
While the new General's palms sweated, the war continued in other theaters. General di Medici hand picked a talented Commander to engage Castillian forces in the west, a young man of a very old family: Alessandre Tullius Cicero. A direct descendant of the hero Publius Tullius Cicero, Alessandre had been the Praetor, or chief judge, in Bulgaria regio, toiling away with few challenges and little career prospects. During the war with Toulouse (sometimes called "The Lost War" by some wags), Alessandre resigned as Praetor and traded in his civilian rank for the uniform of a Lieutenant Commander. He showed such promise that despite seeing very little direct action, he earned a promotion to Commander before the war with Savoy. He certainly did not lack for direct contact now.
An attempted invasion by the Swiss was repulsed with equal success, although with more casualties.
Doria-Landi's own test came with a bloody price tag as well.
Across the field, Romeo met his equal, the Austrian General Leopold Steiger. If not for Romeo's engineering expertise, the outcome might well have been different. He saluted the ramrod straight Austrian General. General Steiger returned the salute every bit as crisply as the "fighting Professor."
It was hard not to admire the courage it took to lead men into battle. When Romeo discussed military strategy with his colleagues after the war, he'd have a very different appreciation for their talents.
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30 December 1671, Marshal's office, Florence
Captain Constantijn de Ruyter was absolutely furious. While battles continued with great success on land, he'd fought exactly one battle at sea and found himself relegated to desk duty in the Marshal's office.
General di Medici repulsed far superior numbers at the Battle of Bearn, inflicting almost ten times as many casualties as he took.
Commander Tullius Cicero even topped the General; called home to Bulgaria to lead a defensive effort against Transylvania, their entire army was routed in a single conflict.
The ambitious Dutchman found his first battle for the Imperial fleet very different.
Yes, the fleet had been victorious. Constantijn even had the opportunity to personally command the captured Swedish cog Laxen, a great honor. However, he'd also earned an additional trophy.
He'd been semi-officially booted out of the fleet.
In the process of putting out fires on the deck of his Galleon, he'd kicked over a barrel of salt. A few minutes later, a cannon ball killed most of the fire party. Two entirely unrelated events that effectively condemned him to sail a desk for the rest of his career. No sailor would sail with him, and in the Imperial Classes, the officers were often less experienced than their sailors. Showing uncommon good sense, they deferred on all sailing matters to their men. That included who was 'lucky' and who was not, and so a perfectly courageous man, somebody who wanted to see the navy become the equal of the legions, was left ashore.
If not for de Ruyter's brilliant Coehorn mortars, he might have found himself out of a job. Instead, the new emphasis on engineering meant that his talent for blueprints and drafting would always be needed. He was even promoted to Lieutenant Commander, which would normally have delighted him, but he instead was even more irritated. In the Italian Empire, Lieutenant Commanders was a Legionary rank, not a rank in the navy.
"Oh, damn! I want to be out at sea, where I can be of some use! I want to direct my men to fire upon enemy masts, to teach tacking and weaving, to serve the Empire! How could anybody possibly understand the futility of being stuck with administrative work instead of fighting, as men are meant to do?"
A voice over his shoulder chuckled. "Oh, I think I might."
"I hardly doubt -- ahem. Hello, Marshal." Constantijn tried not to stare at the stump on the right side of his body.
"Good afternoon, Lieutenant Commander. Problems?"
The Dutchman sighed. "It's just so frustrating. A bunch of loony sailors are keeping me from serving the best way I can."
"We all seek to serve the Empire, Constantijn. However, you need to remember that there are many ways to serve the Empire, and that logistics wins wars just as much as talented battlefield commanders."
"Yes, sir."
"Look at it this way; you can continue your naval research. I still need you hard at work developing new muskets, of course, but that doesn't mean you can't stick to what you love. I'll even see to it that you get a chance to take the first ship of any new type out to sea."
Constantijn brightened. In Holland, as it was in most navies, only the most seasoned commanders got to test new ships; to do it as a mere Lieutenant Commander was one of the highest honors a military could bestow. "Thank you, sir!"
"Of course. You may even find you have a talent for staff work; I did, and look what happened to me. The late General O'Connor also earned most of his promotions behind a desk. It's just the way the Empire runs."
The Lieutenant Commander nodded. "Yes, sir!"
"Very good, Constantijn. Now go win us the war!"
As the young officer walked off with renew enthusiasm, Jacopo smiled fondly. He saw so much of himself in de Ruyter. As his thoughts turned to his family, his thoughts darkened for a moment. Young Brutus, fresh out of the Academy, was missing in action. He'd last been seen at the Battle of Lombardia, but had gotten separated from the rest of his unit. The Marshal said a silent prayer for his lost son, then added another that Maurizio was safe in Rome, serving as a clerk in the foreign ministry. Perhaps the white peace with Switzerland meant that Brutus would come home. All the Marshal could do was pray.
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13 February 1672, Chancellor's office, Rome
Napoleone checked the clock on the wall. It was almost time to go home for the day! He stopped at David O'Connor's desk, as he always did.
"Any news, David?"
The Baron looked up from his paperwork. "Not really, sir. Dayr Az Zor is now officially Protestant, as the Emperor asked. That missionary deserves a bonus, if you ask me. Sweden and Austria finally signed their peace treaties, and I hear General di Medici is making impressive progress in Castille; his men have won two successive victories in Navarra."
"Good to hear. How's your lovely young wife?"
David smiled. "Just fine, sir. Thanks for asking!"
"Have you yet decided on a name for the newest addition to your family?"
David mock groaned. "That's all I ever hear at home! What do we name him? I think we're down to three possibilities, if it's a boy. Max, Andrew, or Patrick. I personally like Max, but her favorite uncle's name was Patrick or something."
After briefly looking a bit sad, Napoleone forced a quick laugh. David looked concerned. "Are you okay, sir?"
"I sometimes wonder if I'll ever have a family of my own, David. With Peter the most eligible bachelor in Europe and a healthy male heir, very few kings are beating down my door, offering their daughter's hands in marriage."
"Couldn't you find a nice girl here in Italy?"
Napoleone's sigh answered that. "My brother insists I marry for matters of state."
"You know, sir, my wife has plenty of very nice friends, and we'd consider it an honor to arrange a meeting or two, if you'd like."
Napoleone's spirits rose a bit at that. He was about to reply when a young clerk burst in the door.
"Sirs! We're at war!"
David chuckled. "Aren't you a bit late for that?"
"No, Baron O'Connor, I mean we've got a new one!"
David and Napoleone exchanged looks, but Napoleone answered. "What has my brother gone and done this time? Subjugate Tirol? Who found him the justification for that?! Never mind. I'm going to see my brother, David. Can you hold down the fort?"
"Certainly, sir. If things calm down a bit, that offer still stands."
Napoleone managed a legitimate laugh at that. "You're assuming things will calm down at some point, my friend. I think you're gravely mistaken."
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17 March 1672, the former throne room of the Damned German Emperor, Savoy
Peter I's smile was not one of genuine happiness. It was one of animal intensity, of the absolute conquest of a hated rival.
He looked at his brother, who he'd brought along. "What do you think, Napoleone?"
"I understand why you started this war, I really do, Peter. I even understand why you're pleased; Savoy now only has Wallis and Piedmont left in Europe, and with no access to the sea, the King will be forced to flee overseas. What I don't understand is why you chose to execute the Electors."
"I need to send a message, Napoleone. We must first conquer the civilized portions of Europe, but soon the drums of war will announce the end of those pretenders to the name of Rome. In fact, I have a minor confession to make, brother."
Napoleone winced in anticipation. "What's that?"
"I swore a blood oath to Attis that I or my heirs would shatter the Damned German Empire."
Napoleone was horrified. "That cult died out hundreds of years ago! Remember the first Commandment, my brother. Would you risk your immortal soul, and the soul of your son, for the sake of vengeance?"
"No, of course not." But before Napoleone could even show any serious relief, Peter continued.
"My immortal soul died with my beloved wife, Napoleone. I don't know my own son, and he doesn't even recognize me. Most of my citizens fear or hate me, or call me 'Peter the Mad' behind my back. And you know what? I don't even care. I've lost everything I ever cared about, apart from you, dear brother.
"I'm already living in Hell. My eternal soul is damned for murdering the King of France in cold blood, and I have no intention of repenting, because I'm genuinely not sorry. I might as well get something out of the exchange."
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Part 2 should be up this weekend. Enjoy!
Like Peter's attempts to keep himself in check ... and failing rather spectacularly
Glad you did! I changed my mind as I was writing, actually; I had initially intended for him to seek redemption.
This will be much more interesting! We'll see an emperor who's hellbent on war.
Yess! The time for sitting and watching is over! Thus far Rome has expanded in quite a fair and peaceful (as far as you can call it that way) manner. But no longer! Burn and pillage their cities and make them speak Latin! Sometimes one just needs a little madness.
Ps: Poor Constantijn's naval ambitions dont seem to fare that well.
Ps: Poor Constantijn's naval ambitions dont seem to fare that well.
I hope that while Peter is thirsty for blood he indeed succeeds at dismantling the Damned German Empire.
I have to say that this is quite impressive. Reading it has given me the motivation to continue chipping away at the somewhat vertical learning curve .
Thanks, and I hope you're enjoying writing this as much as everyone who is reading it!
.Thanks, and I hope you're enjoying writing this as much as everyone who is reading it!
There shall be war a-plenty!
I have to admit, I just read "Rats in the Walls" by Lovecraft, which gave me the idea for whom to swear the oath to
It's so late in the game that it's hard for me to justify caring about the navy all of a sudden
At one point, one of my fleets had been sitting in the Mediterranean for four consecutive years before I put them back in port. Italy sure has some well behaved sailors!That being said, I do have plans for Constantijn. They aren't exactly what you wanted, navy wise, but he has his part to play
I hope that while Peter is thirsty for blood he indeed succeeds at dismantling the Damned German Empire.
I'm getting my own bloodlust for taking those inconsiderate jerks down; I might even go after them at the expense of completing the Roman Empire.
I have to say that this is quite impressive. Reading it has given me the motivation to continue chipping away at the somewhat vertical learning curve
Thanks, and I hope you're enjoying writing this as much as everyone who is reading it!
I'm very pleased that this has inspired you! I have a blast writing this, and I think most AAR authors would agree.
EU 3 does have quite the learning curve (although I thought HOI 3 was much worse, and I'm still sorting out Supreme Ruler: Cold War). What helped me more than anything was reading AARs; gela1212 has a nice little tutorial AAR I highly recommend if you haven't found it yet.
Hey, if you're going to have the Damned German Empire Killed, Just take the fluvial border a bit further than the Rhine, please, if you would be so kind?
I will take that under consideration; did you have something specific in mind?
The Pacific would be asking for a bit much would it?
Danzig, then? Please?
I'll see what I can for Danzig; as for the Pacific? I've only got 121 years left in EU 3! Cut me some slack!
Time for some good old fashioned Roman Imperialism it is then. They're always better of being Roman!
If only they'd see it that way, it wouldn't take me nearly so long to rebuild the Empire
If only they'd see it that way, it wouldn't take me nearly so long to rebuild the Empire
Thinking of that you should have played this AAR in the Death and Taxes mod, it actually allows you to form the Roman Empire. Im having a jolly good time with that. That and it gives you a Roman Imperialism CB on ... well everyone! Good stuff.