Very good update! Catch'd up some days earlier, one of the best AARs i've ever seen!
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The palace is well-known as a Rurikovich hunting ground. As well as THE place to have a hunting accident. All the cool kids are doing it.
Excellent to see an update with the advancement of science...even if it claimed some victims along the way.
Leading, obviously, to 'the geek shall inherit the earth' - explains Steve Jobs, he wasn't a Rurikovich!
This is the most entertaining stuff ever! 
I almost peed my pants with the hunting accident
I almost peed my pants with the hunting accident 
@ loki100: Yes indeed. Good idea, but poor execution, as Dobczyński would say!
@ Chief Ragusa: Indeed, aesthetics are very important - as they said in something (The Six Million Dollar Man?) 'We have the technology'. And the way to the Ottomans shall be revealed...
@ Omen: Yes, I seem to be overrun. Binders full of women as some people say! It must be my rugged charisma. Or Dobczyński's. Probably the latter
@ homy_dog34: Thanks. I wasn't really fancying it, but that's what happens when you make your SoI too big.
@ Memento Mori: What better cause could one give one's life for? And yes, his personal reaction is closer to 'Oh well'. Although he's also a bit disappointed in her - he wouldn't actually mind being killed off by his heir as long as it was done well. He's a circle of life kind of a man.
@ morningSIDEr: Cheers. Give them credit, the Ruris don't do quiet boring deaths in their sleep!
@ Deus Eversor: Quite right, Dobczyński's weapon is always ready for instant assembly!
@ bthunder: Thanks mate, great to have you on board
@ RBG: Precisely, where else would one hunt? Deer and wolves are boring when you can go after princes and Emperors!
@ blsteen: As the druid priests were wont to say, 'We all have to make some sacrifices...' (apologies to Terry Deary)
@ Prince of Savoy @ PrawnStar - Mr Star answered better than I ever could
@ Timbernator: Apologies for the damage, but glad that it's not completely rubbish
@ Chief Ragusa: Indeed, aesthetics are very important - as they said in something (The Six Million Dollar Man?) 'We have the technology'. And the way to the Ottomans shall be revealed...
@ Omen: Yes, I seem to be overrun. Binders full of women as some people say! It must be my rugged charisma. Or Dobczyński's. Probably the latter
@ homy_dog34: Thanks. I wasn't really fancying it, but that's what happens when you make your SoI too big.
@ Memento Mori: What better cause could one give one's life for? And yes, his personal reaction is closer to 'Oh well'. Although he's also a bit disappointed in her - he wouldn't actually mind being killed off by his heir as long as it was done well. He's a circle of life kind of a man.
@ morningSIDEr: Cheers. Give them credit, the Ruris don't do quiet boring deaths in their sleep!
@ Deus Eversor: Quite right, Dobczyński's weapon is always ready for instant assembly!
@ bthunder: Thanks mate, great to have you on board
@ RBG: Precisely, where else would one hunt? Deer and wolves are boring when you can go after princes and Emperors!
@ blsteen: As the druid priests were wont to say, 'We all have to make some sacrifices...' (apologies to Terry Deary)
@ Prince of Savoy @ PrawnStar - Mr Star answered better than I ever could
@ Timbernator: Apologies for the damage, but glad that it's not completely rubbish
Episode XLIV: Tverkish Delight
An extract from Huiver Bagge’s XXIX Epistle: Tver, The Ottoman Wars , And My Thoughts Thereon by His (Most) Excellency Charles Percival Huiver-Bagge MA (Ox.)
The Ottoman Empire is a shadow of the haunting spectre that it once was. The conquerors of Constantinople, who once threatened to plunge a heathen scimitar into the Europa’s delicate underbelly, suffered a series of crushing defeats at the hand of the heroic Austrians, who drove them not only out of Europe, but out of their Turkish heartlands. And yet, in spite of their weakened situation, they still see the small European state of Georgia as an opportunity for expansion.
Georgia is not an ally of the Empire of Tver – in fact, as you read in my previous mighty epistle, the two were at war over the region of Abkhazia but a matter of years ago. But because of older ties between the countries, and Georgia’s being in the Tverian sphere of influence, Czar Aleksandr gallantly leapt to the defence of the outnumbered and outclassed Georgians, sinpired by knightly virtues of justice and honour! As well as other minor factors, such as...
‘An outstanding opportunity, Dobczyński, to test out the new model army against a worthy foe!’
‘Are you sure this is wise, sir?’
‘Why not? We were thinking of expanding eastwards anyway.’
‘Within a few years, sir, once we’ve integrated a few more of our current provinces. But...wel,, you know about the overextension...’
‘You and your overextensions, Dobczyński!’
‘I can’t help myself, sir. The point is, more provinces means more of a burden on the administration.’
‘Outweighed by the potential benefits to Tverian science! Let’s see these muskets in action against a strong opponent!’
‘Very good, sir. I’ll head for the front immediately. Mind if I appoint my own second-in-command?’
‘What? Oh, yes, certainly Dobczyński. This is your bag! Your speciality! You do the soldiering, I’ll do the sciencing, we’ll have a gay old time!’
It was thus that the Empire of Tver negotiated Military Access with the Austrians, to allow Tverian troops access to Georgian territory. The Austrians were very cooperative, (mostly, I suspect, because of Dobcyzński’s hair colour). The armies were to be under the direct command of Dobczyński’s protégé, General Vadbolsky, a man schooled not only in the classical arts of warfare, but also in the niceties learned by the Tverian army in its battles with the heathen Tartars – not only did Vadbolsky keep a potato pipe near his lips at all times – and a healthy bushy beard should extra fiery assistance be required – he also took his uniform straight out of the Tverian tactical manuals written by Dobczyński’s predecessor - a bright purple greatcoat with yellow flashes, a pink jacket and green breeches made him a shocking, dazzling presence upon the battlefield. Dobczyński also vouched for his skill in manoeuvres, confirming that the young general was a ‘most flexible, innovative and open-minded man.’
The Ottomans were not the only enemies to face the wroth of the Empire of Tver – her ally, Sibir, joined her in the war in the hope of taking some of the Russians’ eastern provinces.
The Czar was curious at the news.
‘Is this bad news, Dobczyński, or do I correctly identify the smell of opportunity?’
‘Your most Imperial nose is as impeccable as ever, sir.’
‘The palace eagle begs to differ.’ The Czar rubbed his cut nose gingerly.
‘We can afford to divert an army to deal with Sibir – and once her armies are crushed we can take some of their territories.’
‘They’re rather poor aren’t they?’
‘Poor, sir, but some have useful trade goods which would enhance our income from Astrakhan if we can acquire them.’
‘Very well. Ready your sword, Captain Dobczyński!’
‘In your presence, sir, my sword is always ready...’
Nine Tverian regiments changed course and headed for Siberia, a e both larger and better equipped than their potential opposition.
At sea, matters did not go so well – it appeared that the Ottomans were using their fabled heathen magicks to summon all their vessels to the best place at the best time. The fact that Tver had never placed any value in naval training or expansion (after Aleksandr II’s fabled declaration that ‘anyone involved in Naval Research is idiot’ – this declaration was, to be fair, made when the country was landlocked). Regardless, the defeat in the Battle of the Aegean was a blow to Tver’s hopes of blockading Ottoman ports.
It was on land, though, that this conflict would be decided. One of Tver’s advance armies found itself out of position, and was forced to engage the main Ottoman vanguard. Somehow, though, the doughty Christian soldiers managed – in spite of heavy casualties – to repulse the heathen advance! For all their alck of subtlety, culture, or knowledge of fine cuisine, one must give credit to the fighting spirit of the men of Tver – one suspects that much could be achieved with one, were he to be caught young! The Ottomans were seen off through sheer discipline and bloody-minded stubbornness.
Though matters on the battlefield were proceeding well, a matter which had long been of concern to my most esteemed self was finally acknowledged by the international community (I am nothing if not a man ahead of my time!) The rulers of Tver had claimed to be Patrons of the Arts since the time of the revered Renaissance monarch Mikhael III, and certainly subsidies to artists were as generous as any nation east of Paris. This money, though, was being squandered on talentless, overrated fools, none more so than the court painter, Faros Geconius! Why, one can barely make out the facial features of his subjects. It is as if they have no mouths! This disparity between subsidy and product has finally come to the attention of the international community, with a group of leading international experts such as Lokich Einhundert (who declares that Geconius’ work should be viewed only as an ‘extreme unction’), Archie Bee (‘a travesty, nay, an Omen of the downfall of Christian art!’) and Bea LeSteen (the great Morgan Zeider was unavailable for comment, having been sold into slavery to make funds for a stricken recreational sports society in Scotlandshire).
On the battlefield, though, Dobczyński was flexing his muscles, and his soldiers were following suit. He was absent from the Battle of Qarabagh but, inspired by over-inflated tales of his heroism, another victory was ground out in a similar manner to that at Kartli: casualties were high, but constant pressure and refusal to accept defeat forced the Ottomans to retreat before Tverian reinforcements arrived.
They were not quick enough, however. Dobczyński and Vadbolksy were able to join the fray in a third, more decisive battle at Murgan. Dazzled by the shocking brightness of Vadbolsky’s attire, and outmanoeuvred by Dobczyński’s generalship, the Ottomans were routed from the field!
War is an expensive business, and a leader must always tastefully balance the need to make it economically viable with diplomatic and sympathetic acceptance of its hardships. While not an especially skilled diplomat, the Czar at least understands the basics of tact and respect – it’s not as if he would, say, attend a ceremony of remembrance, or wear a symbol of such tragic loss of life, while negotiating arms sales! He was, however, faced with the harsh reality of its costs, not only human but financial. This in mind, he levied war taxes to prevent cuts in funding to the sciences.
The Siberians are a people with an inflated sense of self-importance, like a Cambridge Professor of Mathematics who believes that a published paper makes him a worthy man to educate and pontificate to the youth of England! In spite of Tver’s clear advantage in the eastern theatre, they sent a rider to the Czar demanding Tver’s surrender and payment of reparations! The Czar returned the rider to his leader, having removed both his arms, then re-attached them to see if they still worked (they did!).
Two Steppe Hordes remained on Tver’s eastern border. The Nogai, though, had been reduced to a single province, their southern territories recently absorbed by the growing Sultanate of Persia. The Czar decided that the time had come to put them out of their misery, and colonisation began on their final province to prevent the Persians from moving any closer.
The war with Sibir was going swimmingly – while Siberian troops had made their way into Tver’s eastern provinces, Tverian soldiers, and those of her allies, were besieging the western regions of Sibir’s territory. North Ufa was the first heathen province to fall into the Czar’s powder-blackened hands.
The Ottomans, meanwhile, were in full retreat before Dobczyński’s might and Vadbolsky’s coat. Georgia’s army had recovered from the early Turkish onslaught and were besieging the Sultan’s provinces, while Tverian and other Russian soldiers were plunging into her territories.
Dobczyński himself led the successful capture of Erserum, the Ottoman capital. He climbed to the top of the highest tower, and planted the red and white flag of the Empire of Tver atop it with a flourish. The Ottoman Empire was in disarray, crushed by the military might of Tver.
While the Ottomans had started the war strongly against the outclassed, outnumbered Georgians, they had failed to defeat their primary target before their protectors made their way into the conflict. Tver had not lost a single battle against the strongest Islamic nation, whose old conquests were now rising in rebellion against her.
With the war entering its final stages, the Czar thought it best to accelerate operations in Siberia, so as to make gains before peace was made with the Ottomans. Kurgan was wrested from their grasp – would they take a group of provinces, or could there only be one?
A group, as it happened. While expansion without an appropriate Cass Belli would lower Tver’s international reputation, the Czar decreed the financial gain of new resource-rich provinces to outweigh the disadvantages. Dobczyński was quite happy with this arrangement – while war of the difficulties of administering such far-flung areas, he maintained that overextension also had its advantages.
Peace was made with the Ottoman Sultan shortly afterwards. Tver had no need for any of her territories, preferring instead to chastise the once-great empire and exact reparations. Georgia had been successfully defended, and Tver’s position as the defender of Eastern Christianity was reinforced.
The acquisition of Siberian territories had caused a much-wanted expansion in font size. Positioning was less than perfect, being rather slanted to one side, but future gains should rectify this problem and, as Dobczyński noted, ‘it is less important to be perfect in shape, than to be an expert in its wielding’.
And thus, dear reader, ends another tale of dash and derring-do in this most dangerous of regions. I shall, of course, pen further of my rakish adventures in this land, its expansions, extensions, and other oddities. Until then, you shall have to wait, patiently – and you will, because I am worth it.
From the Empire of Tver, so that you don’t have to,
Huiver-Bagge
An extract from Huiver Bagge’s XXIX Epistle: Tver, The Ottoman Wars , And My Thoughts Thereon by His (Most) Excellency Charles Percival Huiver-Bagge MA (Ox.)
The Ottoman Empire is a shadow of the haunting spectre that it once was. The conquerors of Constantinople, who once threatened to plunge a heathen scimitar into the Europa’s delicate underbelly, suffered a series of crushing defeats at the hand of the heroic Austrians, who drove them not only out of Europe, but out of their Turkish heartlands. And yet, in spite of their weakened situation, they still see the small European state of Georgia as an opportunity for expansion.
Georgia is not an ally of the Empire of Tver – in fact, as you read in my previous mighty epistle, the two were at war over the region of Abkhazia but a matter of years ago. But because of older ties between the countries, and Georgia’s being in the Tverian sphere of influence, Czar Aleksandr gallantly leapt to the defence of the outnumbered and outclassed Georgians, sinpired by knightly virtues of justice and honour! As well as other minor factors, such as...
‘An outstanding opportunity, Dobczyński, to test out the new model army against a worthy foe!’
‘Are you sure this is wise, sir?’
‘Why not? We were thinking of expanding eastwards anyway.’
‘Within a few years, sir, once we’ve integrated a few more of our current provinces. But...wel,, you know about the overextension...’
‘You and your overextensions, Dobczyński!’
‘I can’t help myself, sir. The point is, more provinces means more of a burden on the administration.’
‘Outweighed by the potential benefits to Tverian science! Let’s see these muskets in action against a strong opponent!’
‘Very good, sir. I’ll head for the front immediately. Mind if I appoint my own second-in-command?’
‘What? Oh, yes, certainly Dobczyński. This is your bag! Your speciality! You do the soldiering, I’ll do the sciencing, we’ll have a gay old time!’
It was thus that the Empire of Tver negotiated Military Access with the Austrians, to allow Tverian troops access to Georgian territory. The Austrians were very cooperative, (mostly, I suspect, because of Dobcyzński’s hair colour). The armies were to be under the direct command of Dobczyński’s protégé, General Vadbolsky, a man schooled not only in the classical arts of warfare, but also in the niceties learned by the Tverian army in its battles with the heathen Tartars – not only did Vadbolsky keep a potato pipe near his lips at all times – and a healthy bushy beard should extra fiery assistance be required – he also took his uniform straight out of the Tverian tactical manuals written by Dobczyński’s predecessor - a bright purple greatcoat with yellow flashes, a pink jacket and green breeches made him a shocking, dazzling presence upon the battlefield. Dobczyński also vouched for his skill in manoeuvres, confirming that the young general was a ‘most flexible, innovative and open-minded man.’
The Ottomans were not the only enemies to face the wroth of the Empire of Tver – her ally, Sibir, joined her in the war in the hope of taking some of the Russians’ eastern provinces.
The Czar was curious at the news.
‘Is this bad news, Dobczyński, or do I correctly identify the smell of opportunity?’
‘Your most Imperial nose is as impeccable as ever, sir.’
‘The palace eagle begs to differ.’ The Czar rubbed his cut nose gingerly.
‘We can afford to divert an army to deal with Sibir – and once her armies are crushed we can take some of their territories.’
‘They’re rather poor aren’t they?’
‘Poor, sir, but some have useful trade goods which would enhance our income from Astrakhan if we can acquire them.’
‘Very well. Ready your sword, Captain Dobczyński!’
‘In your presence, sir, my sword is always ready...’
Nine Tverian regiments changed course and headed for Siberia, a e both larger and better equipped than their potential opposition.
At sea, matters did not go so well – it appeared that the Ottomans were using their fabled heathen magicks to summon all their vessels to the best place at the best time. The fact that Tver had never placed any value in naval training or expansion (after Aleksandr II’s fabled declaration that ‘anyone involved in Naval Research is idiot’ – this declaration was, to be fair, made when the country was landlocked). Regardless, the defeat in the Battle of the Aegean was a blow to Tver’s hopes of blockading Ottoman ports.
It was on land, though, that this conflict would be decided. One of Tver’s advance armies found itself out of position, and was forced to engage the main Ottoman vanguard. Somehow, though, the doughty Christian soldiers managed – in spite of heavy casualties – to repulse the heathen advance! For all their alck of subtlety, culture, or knowledge of fine cuisine, one must give credit to the fighting spirit of the men of Tver – one suspects that much could be achieved with one, were he to be caught young! The Ottomans were seen off through sheer discipline and bloody-minded stubbornness.
Though matters on the battlefield were proceeding well, a matter which had long been of concern to my most esteemed self was finally acknowledged by the international community (I am nothing if not a man ahead of my time!) The rulers of Tver had claimed to be Patrons of the Arts since the time of the revered Renaissance monarch Mikhael III, and certainly subsidies to artists were as generous as any nation east of Paris. This money, though, was being squandered on talentless, overrated fools, none more so than the court painter, Faros Geconius! Why, one can barely make out the facial features of his subjects. It is as if they have no mouths! This disparity between subsidy and product has finally come to the attention of the international community, with a group of leading international experts such as Lokich Einhundert (who declares that Geconius’ work should be viewed only as an ‘extreme unction’), Archie Bee (‘a travesty, nay, an Omen of the downfall of Christian art!’) and Bea LeSteen (the great Morgan Zeider was unavailable for comment, having been sold into slavery to make funds for a stricken recreational sports society in Scotlandshire).
On the battlefield, though, Dobczyński was flexing his muscles, and his soldiers were following suit. He was absent from the Battle of Qarabagh but, inspired by over-inflated tales of his heroism, another victory was ground out in a similar manner to that at Kartli: casualties were high, but constant pressure and refusal to accept defeat forced the Ottomans to retreat before Tverian reinforcements arrived.
They were not quick enough, however. Dobczyński and Vadbolksy were able to join the fray in a third, more decisive battle at Murgan. Dazzled by the shocking brightness of Vadbolsky’s attire, and outmanoeuvred by Dobczyński’s generalship, the Ottomans were routed from the field!
War is an expensive business, and a leader must always tastefully balance the need to make it economically viable with diplomatic and sympathetic acceptance of its hardships. While not an especially skilled diplomat, the Czar at least understands the basics of tact and respect – it’s not as if he would, say, attend a ceremony of remembrance, or wear a symbol of such tragic loss of life, while negotiating arms sales! He was, however, faced with the harsh reality of its costs, not only human but financial. This in mind, he levied war taxes to prevent cuts in funding to the sciences.
The Siberians are a people with an inflated sense of self-importance, like a Cambridge Professor of Mathematics who believes that a published paper makes him a worthy man to educate and pontificate to the youth of England! In spite of Tver’s clear advantage in the eastern theatre, they sent a rider to the Czar demanding Tver’s surrender and payment of reparations! The Czar returned the rider to his leader, having removed both his arms, then re-attached them to see if they still worked (they did!).
Two Steppe Hordes remained on Tver’s eastern border. The Nogai, though, had been reduced to a single province, their southern territories recently absorbed by the growing Sultanate of Persia. The Czar decided that the time had come to put them out of their misery, and colonisation began on their final province to prevent the Persians from moving any closer.
The war with Sibir was going swimmingly – while Siberian troops had made their way into Tver’s eastern provinces, Tverian soldiers, and those of her allies, were besieging the western regions of Sibir’s territory. North Ufa was the first heathen province to fall into the Czar’s powder-blackened hands.
The Ottomans, meanwhile, were in full retreat before Dobczyński’s might and Vadbolsky’s coat. Georgia’s army had recovered from the early Turkish onslaught and were besieging the Sultan’s provinces, while Tverian and other Russian soldiers were plunging into her territories.
Dobczyński himself led the successful capture of Erserum, the Ottoman capital. He climbed to the top of the highest tower, and planted the red and white flag of the Empire of Tver atop it with a flourish. The Ottoman Empire was in disarray, crushed by the military might of Tver.
While the Ottomans had started the war strongly against the outclassed, outnumbered Georgians, they had failed to defeat their primary target before their protectors made their way into the conflict. Tver had not lost a single battle against the strongest Islamic nation, whose old conquests were now rising in rebellion against her.
With the war entering its final stages, the Czar thought it best to accelerate operations in Siberia, so as to make gains before peace was made with the Ottomans. Kurgan was wrested from their grasp – would they take a group of provinces, or could there only be one?
A group, as it happened. While expansion without an appropriate Cass Belli would lower Tver’s international reputation, the Czar decreed the financial gain of new resource-rich provinces to outweigh the disadvantages. Dobczyński was quite happy with this arrangement – while war of the difficulties of administering such far-flung areas, he maintained that overextension also had its advantages.
Peace was made with the Ottoman Sultan shortly afterwards. Tver had no need for any of her territories, preferring instead to chastise the once-great empire and exact reparations. Georgia had been successfully defended, and Tver’s position as the defender of Eastern Christianity was reinforced.
The acquisition of Siberian territories had caused a much-wanted expansion in font size. Positioning was less than perfect, being rather slanted to one side, but future gains should rectify this problem and, as Dobczyński noted, ‘it is less important to be perfect in shape, than to be an expert in its wielding’.
And thus, dear reader, ends another tale of dash and derring-do in this most dangerous of regions. I shall, of course, pen further of my rakish adventures in this land, its expansions, extensions, and other oddities. Until then, you shall have to wait, patiently – and you will, because I am worth it.
From the Empire of Tver, so that you don’t have to,
Huiver-Bagge
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ah, that update was well timed, I was looking for some reading to give me an excuse to extend my lunch break .. and Dobczyński most clearly is a man who appreciated a well argued extension.
your early battles had a certain, what can only be called 'MorningSIDEr' aspect to them ... but it went better once the Ottomans realised just what they had taken on. With some luck the Jellybabies should be a threat to them, but would you perchance prefer an Ottoman remnant strong enough to annoy the Austrians ... or are you planning to reserve that role to yourself?
your early battles had a certain, what can only be called 'MorningSIDEr' aspect to them ... but it went better once the Ottomans realised just what they had taken on. With some luck the Jellybabies should be a threat to them, but would you perchance prefer an Ottoman remnant strong enough to annoy the Austrians ... or are you planning to reserve that role to yourself?
It's not about the angle of your font, it's how much bigger it is than the other fonts.
Publishing is beneath the dignity of Cambridge mathematics professors. They merely let it be known that they knew it all along when someone else publishes.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leibniz–Newton_calculus_controversy
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leibniz–Newton_calculus_controversy
Truly there is no more noble and honourable a nation than Tver. Her selflessness, her constant provision of aid to others astounding.
Excellent stuff, as ever Dobczyński words bring me to instant rapt attention.
Already I like the cut of Vadbolsky's multi-coloured jib, both he and Dobczyński easily putting the Ottomans and Sibir to the sword. Hopefully this promising partnership can continue to bring victory so as to increase the size of Tver's already magnificent font!
The key to entvertaining writing is having been educated in Oxford...but for those who cannot be gentlemen, it's best to be caught young and put to work before the Turk gets you.
You made peace trety with Sibir, and took their provinces?!? Aren't they nomadic?!?
@ loki100: The timing is all part of the service (though we haven't conquered Switzerland - yet). And indeed, Captain Dob would agree that extensions are the way forward! The Ottomans are in decline and have been for a long time now - one good battering from the Ostriches about eighty years ago and they've been driven out of their Turkish heartlands. They'll crumble, I suspect, all their remaining annexed territories are rebelling.
@ Omen: Precisely! That's what I keep telling my partner, but they won't lis...what was I saying?
@ The Arch Mede: Disgraceful, but what can you expect from the upstarts at Cambridge? Only men of Oxford are worthy of respect!
@ homy_dog34: I've no plans to expand in that direction: east and west, but not south. My main targets are modern Russia and their Cold War-era sphere of influence, though Scandinavia would be welcome too)
@ morningSIDEr: I have heard that some of Tver's generals later emigrated to Sokoto - might explain their similar mission of spreading liberty and goodwill! And Vadbolsky is a man amongst men - what else needs a general but a tailor with some imagination?
@ RGB: very true. Thankfully for all of Christendom, the Turk is now about as threatening as a puppy carrying a wet paper towel, but I'm sure they will live on as a bogeyman until the Austrians decide to go for an AI World Conquest :S
@ 4th Dimension: Hi mate They do indeed start out as one, but they managed to reform to a Tribal Federation. Not sure whether this is better or worse for me - I can actually afford colonists now!
@ Omen: Precisely! That's what I keep telling my partner, but they won't lis...what was I saying?
@ The Arch Mede: Disgraceful, but what can you expect from the upstarts at Cambridge? Only men of Oxford are worthy of respect!
@ homy_dog34: I've no plans to expand in that direction: east and west, but not south. My main targets are modern Russia and their Cold War-era sphere of influence, though Scandinavia would be welcome too)
@ morningSIDEr: I have heard that some of Tver's generals later emigrated to Sokoto - might explain their similar mission of spreading liberty and goodwill! And Vadbolsky is a man amongst men - what else needs a general but a tailor with some imagination?
@ RGB: very true. Thankfully for all of Christendom, the Turk is now about as threatening as a puppy carrying a wet paper towel, but I'm sure they will live on as a bogeyman until the Austrians decide to go for an AI World Conquest :S
@ 4th Dimension: Hi mate
They do indeed start out as one, but they managed to reform to a Tribal Federation. Not sure whether this is better or worse for me - I can actually afford colonists now!
Episode XLV: If You Have Tvers, Prepare To Shed Them Now
An extract from Cometh The Hour: On Ends, And Beginnings by Charles Percival Huiver-Bagge
The world, like the younger daughter of the Duchess of Polotsk, is often a cruel mistress. It has been a fateful year, marked with unfortunate accidents. And yet, one in which I, Charles Percival Huiver-Bagge, have had opportunity to take stock of existence.
The finest artist in Tver, Daniil Kashinsky, had long been rumoured to be ready to replace the very limited Faros Geconius as court painter to the Czar. It was shocking, then, when he was found to have accidentally hanged himself from his easel while painting a bowl of fruit. Especially strange since the easel stood only five feet off the ground. Truly can tragedy strike in the strangest of places.
The Czar was gratified, though, by the news that came from the eastern frontier. The door crashed against its frame as Mirin Janusz Dobczyński strode into the room.
‘My Emperor!’
‘Don’t you ever knock?’
‘Scots and Poles knock only on the skulls of their fallen enemies.’
‘Ah.’
‘With hammers.’
‘Your report?’
‘Aye. Report. We have one less enemy, my Emperor. The Nogai have been completely absorbed into your realm.’
‘Splendid. One by one the hordes are incorporated into our Empire. You have done well, Dobczyński!’
‘Thank you, my Emperor.’
‘We will hold a great fireworks display to celebrate.’
‘None of your experimental fireworks I hope?’
‘My dear Dobczyński! What do you Take me for?’
‘I take you for my Emperor, my Emperor.’
‘No no. I remember the last time all too well! Though I still maintain that the girl looks better with the mechanical arm than she ever did with...but I digress. We will not be using my personal fireworks.’
‘Good.’
‘I have had General Beloselsky modify them! He will be supervising the display personally! What could possibly go wrong?’
‘What other news from the east, Dobczyński?’
‘Hearts’ financial problems continue, my Emperor.’
‘Eastern borders. Of Tver.’
‘Aah. The war with the nomads of Kazakh continued well. We have occupied one of their provinces and are making further advances. We should be able to secure a few useful provinces.’
‘Boosting trade in Astrakhan?’
‘Indeed, my Emperor.’
‘Splendid.’
‘Talking of Astrakhan, sir, the merchants are uncertain about westernisation. They fear becoming uncompetitive and are threatening to move abroad.’
‘Bothersome. Any thoughts?’
‘They may have a point, sir. They have a better angle on this than either of us. And they do make a lot of our money.’
‘Very well. It won’t look good internationally, but...well, we can spend the money on science! ‘
‘And the Persians fancy a pure square go, by the way.’
‘What are cats doing in geometric shapes?’
‘I mean...we’re being threatened by Middle eastern lunatics waving scimitars.’
‘That’s vexing. Send the Sultan a suitable reply.’
‘Might take a while, sir. I’ll need to have a few drinks first.’
‘Take your time, Dobczyński. Good things come to those who wait.’
‘Two barrels or one?’
‘Oh, one will be plenty I think. Your family white wine is a rare delicacy, after all – don’t want to spoil them.’
‘Very good, sir. And actually, the drinking part should be easy.’
‘Ah yes. So it should. What do you call it?’
‘Hogmanay, sir. Or Nowy rok, depending which side of my brain is functional. Which in itself is down to whether I’ve been drinking whisky or wódka.’
‘I can imagine. Well, enjoy your evening Dobczyński. A Happy New Year – more than that, in fact.’
‘Aye, sir. Happy New Century.’
‘A new dawn. As the sun rises on our eastern border, Dobczyński, let us drink to the rising sun of the Tverian Empire.’
‘Amen to that, sir. Dobranoc.’
The sixteenth century, perhaps the greatest in the history of mankind, comes to an end. We enter the year of our lord sixteen hundred, and as the bells of Tver Cathedral herald the new century, it is time to assess the state of the world.
Europe is dominated by France and Austria, the white empire of the Von Pfalz-Neumarkts driving an ivory lance from Germany to the middle east. Hungary, as we know, is ready to collapse and for its carcass to be fed upon by other nations.
The new world is divided between the British, French and the Castilian realms, though some of the natives still cling to existence.
Castile is in her rightful place, stretching across north Africa. Otherwise, the heathen fight amongst themselves for supremacy.
Kazakh and Ming are the largest nations in Asia, though Kazakh are under heavy pressure from Tver, giving ground by the day before the forces of Christendom.
The armies of Tver are the fourth largest in the world, and while their technology is not quite up to the standard of their western rivals, they are gaining rapidly.
Novgorod is the richest province in the Empire, with its bustling centre of trade. In spite of its Islamic majority and Tartar inhabitants, Asktrakhan is the second richest, though I gather that the Czar has plans for this region to better integrate it into the Empire.
And colourful statistics return, providing happiness to some of you I am sure. Dobczyński starts talking about dogs for some reason – I will never understand the man.
Expanding its borders and developing its infrastructures has greatly boosted Tver’s economy. Their army, while powerful, could be much larger, but being kept at such a low level frees up more money for development (and science). Its armament factories have greatly boosted the quality of life in iron-producing provinces.
Government policy has changed greatly over the past years, with the Czarina’s reforms allowing extensive changes. High priorities are the training of the army (more quality, less morons, after all), art and science, compulsory attendance of church and a bill of rights guaranteeing the rights of Tver’s diverse inhabitants.
When I look upon this mighty nation, I think not only of how it has changed, evolved, modernised, but how it had had a similar affect upon myself. As Tver has adapted to its circumstances, to the needs and requirements of a changing world, I must admit that I, worldly traveller than I am, have learned much from my extended residence within her borders. Often have I called this city and this country uncouth, rough and uncivilised compared with the class and grandeur of England. I have not changed this assessment (why would I?).
Perhaps, though, there is room in the modern Europe for the uncivilised, as an artist uses dark shadings to enhance his brighter colours. The Tverians, after all, have a certain rough charm, a rugged charisma of their own. And as they have shown themselves open to western art, fashion and philosophy, perhaps we can gain new perspectives by embracing our eastern brothers. We are all, after all, children of the same God. The Tverians are coarse, true, but clear in their intentions, and their brutal honesty shames the scheming and backstabbing that permeates the great courts of western Europe. Let the noble savages of frozen Tver stand fast with the savage nobles of the golden west. Our ways and cultures are the pinnacle of human achievement, but even the glories of Europa might be enhanced further still by the cunning and determination that his built this Empire of Snow.
It is on this hopeful note, fair reader, that I draw an end to my epic tale. Times and nations change, and so to the men who live within them. For long years have I ventured and chronicled and, while ever a young man in my heart, my thunderous tread perhaps thunders a trifle softer than it did, my eagle eyes not quite what they once were. This world of colour dims in its brilliance, and Death, sauciest of all the minxes, beckons me to her chamber with crooked finger and eyes full of mischief. Not to follow, sturdy reader, would be ungentlemanly.
Like all men, I have my flaws, hard as it is to admit. Perhaps I have at times exaggerated (a little) or embellished (a little more) my feats and virtues. I have not been above playing the braggart and the clown, as might any fortunate enough to have travelled as I have travelled and seen what I have seen. The love and praise of a reader is what drives me, and maybe I have forgotten to acknowledge my debt to you. Allow me now to express my gratitude. Your kind words and attentions are the lifeblood of my work, and without them, even I, Charles Percival Huiver-Bagge – would be nothing.
Always have I striven to present the Englishman at home with new ideas and perspectives, with a world – unfurled. I hope that I have managed this in my own way. Given the choice, I would be remembered as an explorer, a writer, an educator and philosopher who expanded the world’s horizons and brought tales of possibility and hope to those who cannot follow in my footsteps. But at worst, gentle reader, I ask only a short prayer for a travelling boy who strove to do good. And let me be remembered, above all else, as an Englishman. For that is title enough for any man.
With regards, and without regrets
Hui..
Charles
An extract from Cometh The Hour: On Ends, And Beginnings by Charles Percival Huiver-Bagge
The world, like the younger daughter of the Duchess of Polotsk, is often a cruel mistress. It has been a fateful year, marked with unfortunate accidents. And yet, one in which I, Charles Percival Huiver-Bagge, have had opportunity to take stock of existence.
The finest artist in Tver, Daniil Kashinsky, had long been rumoured to be ready to replace the very limited Faros Geconius as court painter to the Czar. It was shocking, then, when he was found to have accidentally hanged himself from his easel while painting a bowl of fruit. Especially strange since the easel stood only five feet off the ground. Truly can tragedy strike in the strangest of places.
The Czar was gratified, though, by the news that came from the eastern frontier. The door crashed against its frame as Mirin Janusz Dobczyński strode into the room.
‘My Emperor!’
‘Don’t you ever knock?’
‘Scots and Poles knock only on the skulls of their fallen enemies.’
‘Ah.’
‘With hammers.’
‘Your report?’
‘Aye. Report. We have one less enemy, my Emperor. The Nogai have been completely absorbed into your realm.’
‘Splendid. One by one the hordes are incorporated into our Empire. You have done well, Dobczyński!’
‘Thank you, my Emperor.’
‘We will hold a great fireworks display to celebrate.’
‘None of your experimental fireworks I hope?’
‘My dear Dobczyński! What do you Take me for?’
‘I take you for my Emperor, my Emperor.’
‘No no. I remember the last time all too well! Though I still maintain that the girl looks better with the mechanical arm than she ever did with...but I digress. We will not be using my personal fireworks.’
‘Good.’
‘I have had General Beloselsky modify them! He will be supervising the display personally! What could possibly go wrong?’
‘What other news from the east, Dobczyński?’
‘Hearts’ financial problems continue, my Emperor.’
‘Eastern borders. Of Tver.’
‘Aah. The war with the nomads of Kazakh continued well. We have occupied one of their provinces and are making further advances. We should be able to secure a few useful provinces.’
‘Boosting trade in Astrakhan?’
‘Indeed, my Emperor.’
‘Splendid.’
‘Talking of Astrakhan, sir, the merchants are uncertain about westernisation. They fear becoming uncompetitive and are threatening to move abroad.’
‘Bothersome. Any thoughts?’
‘They may have a point, sir. They have a better angle on this than either of us. And they do make a lot of our money.’
‘Very well. It won’t look good internationally, but...well, we can spend the money on science! ‘
‘And the Persians fancy a pure square go, by the way.’
‘What are cats doing in geometric shapes?’
‘I mean...we’re being threatened by Middle eastern lunatics waving scimitars.’
‘That’s vexing. Send the Sultan a suitable reply.’
‘Might take a while, sir. I’ll need to have a few drinks first.’
‘Take your time, Dobczyński. Good things come to those who wait.’
‘Two barrels or one?’
‘Oh, one will be plenty I think. Your family white wine is a rare delicacy, after all – don’t want to spoil them.’
‘Very good, sir. And actually, the drinking part should be easy.’
‘Ah yes. So it should. What do you call it?’
‘Hogmanay, sir. Or Nowy rok, depending which side of my brain is functional. Which in itself is down to whether I’ve been drinking whisky or wódka.’
‘I can imagine. Well, enjoy your evening Dobczyński. A Happy New Year – more than that, in fact.’
‘Aye, sir. Happy New Century.’
‘A new dawn. As the sun rises on our eastern border, Dobczyński, let us drink to the rising sun of the Tverian Empire.’
‘Amen to that, sir. Dobranoc.’
The sixteenth century, perhaps the greatest in the history of mankind, comes to an end. We enter the year of our lord sixteen hundred, and as the bells of Tver Cathedral herald the new century, it is time to assess the state of the world.
Europe is dominated by France and Austria, the white empire of the Von Pfalz-Neumarkts driving an ivory lance from Germany to the middle east. Hungary, as we know, is ready to collapse and for its carcass to be fed upon by other nations.
The new world is divided between the British, French and the Castilian realms, though some of the natives still cling to existence.
Castile is in her rightful place, stretching across north Africa. Otherwise, the heathen fight amongst themselves for supremacy.
Kazakh and Ming are the largest nations in Asia, though Kazakh are under heavy pressure from Tver, giving ground by the day before the forces of Christendom.
The armies of Tver are the fourth largest in the world, and while their technology is not quite up to the standard of their western rivals, they are gaining rapidly.
Novgorod is the richest province in the Empire, with its bustling centre of trade. In spite of its Islamic majority and Tartar inhabitants, Asktrakhan is the second richest, though I gather that the Czar has plans for this region to better integrate it into the Empire.
And colourful statistics return, providing happiness to some of you I am sure. Dobczyński starts talking about dogs for some reason – I will never understand the man.
Expanding its borders and developing its infrastructures has greatly boosted Tver’s economy. Their army, while powerful, could be much larger, but being kept at such a low level frees up more money for development (and science). Its armament factories have greatly boosted the quality of life in iron-producing provinces.
Government policy has changed greatly over the past years, with the Czarina’s reforms allowing extensive changes. High priorities are the training of the army (more quality, less morons, after all), art and science, compulsory attendance of church and a bill of rights guaranteeing the rights of Tver’s diverse inhabitants.
When I look upon this mighty nation, I think not only of how it has changed, evolved, modernised, but how it had had a similar affect upon myself. As Tver has adapted to its circumstances, to the needs and requirements of a changing world, I must admit that I, worldly traveller than I am, have learned much from my extended residence within her borders. Often have I called this city and this country uncouth, rough and uncivilised compared with the class and grandeur of England. I have not changed this assessment (why would I?).
Perhaps, though, there is room in the modern Europe for the uncivilised, as an artist uses dark shadings to enhance his brighter colours. The Tverians, after all, have a certain rough charm, a rugged charisma of their own. And as they have shown themselves open to western art, fashion and philosophy, perhaps we can gain new perspectives by embracing our eastern brothers. We are all, after all, children of the same God. The Tverians are coarse, true, but clear in their intentions, and their brutal honesty shames the scheming and backstabbing that permeates the great courts of western Europe. Let the noble savages of frozen Tver stand fast with the savage nobles of the golden west. Our ways and cultures are the pinnacle of human achievement, but even the glories of Europa might be enhanced further still by the cunning and determination that his built this Empire of Snow.
It is on this hopeful note, fair reader, that I draw an end to my epic tale. Times and nations change, and so to the men who live within them. For long years have I ventured and chronicled and, while ever a young man in my heart, my thunderous tread perhaps thunders a trifle softer than it did, my eagle eyes not quite what they once were. This world of colour dims in its brilliance, and Death, sauciest of all the minxes, beckons me to her chamber with crooked finger and eyes full of mischief. Not to follow, sturdy reader, would be ungentlemanly.
Like all men, I have my flaws, hard as it is to admit. Perhaps I have at times exaggerated (a little) or embellished (a little more) my feats and virtues. I have not been above playing the braggart and the clown, as might any fortunate enough to have travelled as I have travelled and seen what I have seen. The love and praise of a reader is what drives me, and maybe I have forgotten to acknowledge my debt to you. Allow me now to express my gratitude. Your kind words and attentions are the lifeblood of my work, and without them, even I, Charles Percival Huiver-Bagge – would be nothing.
Always have I striven to present the Englishman at home with new ideas and perspectives, with a world – unfurled. I hope that I have managed this in my own way. Given the choice, I would be remembered as an explorer, a writer, an educator and philosopher who expanded the world’s horizons and brought tales of possibility and hope to those who cannot follow in my footsteps. But at worst, gentle reader, I ask only a short prayer for a travelling boy who strove to do good. And let me be remembered, above all else, as an Englishman. For that is title enough for any man.
With regards, and without regrets
Hui..
Charles
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Great update, rather sad to see C P H-B going. Looking forward to the new plans to chronicle the EnTvertainment
At the start of the update, I was wondering how old our dear Charles was. A bittersweet ending, for certain.
The maps made me happy though. I love seeing what is going on in the rest of the world.
The maps made me happy though. I love seeing what is going on in the rest of the world.
alas poor Charles ... but just what did
do to so mark the poor man
& well done for getting 'square go' into the AAR ... I managed that once and was very pleased with myself
do to so mark the poor man
& well done for getting 'square go' into the AAR ... I managed that once and was very pleased with myself