Imperium Offtopicum: The Peshawar Lancers

OOC: Damn Sokoto. Why won't you die!

OOC:

Yes, Germany seems to be having issues with its armies.

To DonCossack: The elephant in the room is coming pretty soon. What will you do about the plethora of usable characters in the coming years? WWII has, as you surely know, more than enough people you could use to craft a fairly interesting story. But will you even use them? I can think of a rather interesting situation where A National Socialist painter raises a revolt against Germany, claiming that they are falling behind due to the monarchy. Or I can see a witty scenario where you mention the rise in prestige of a Viennan art school for its new member's work. Or perhaps one where Rommel joined the military, similar to Deaghaidh's De Gaulle post. Or maybe something with Himmler converting ti Judaism, I don't know.

Similarly, many of us are reaching a point where WW2 persons are becoming relevant. I certainly plan on using Zhukov.

Part of the reason I say this is something funny I noticed: we should be running out of all free space right around 1925-35. Sorta ironic that our most-likely Great War will be occurring right around when the real one/two were happening.

One more thing: yay! almost there. Spend 6 Ip, construct 4 Armies (if you havent noticed yet, I can do that). Use 13 armies to attack Moscow.

This...should be fun. RP to come tomorrow hopefully. Had over 6 hours of baseball today, and no stop in sight. If it rains, I should get something done.

Note: I find it funny that the first major conflicts on the world stage will most likely occur over Uzbekistan.

OOC: Actually I anyone born after The Fall historically shouldn't exist. Over the next few turns our remaining historical persons will die off and be replaced with the fictional children who grew up in the shadow of the event.

Hyzhenhok said:

OOC: Actually I anyone born after The Fall historically shouldn't exist. Over the next few turns our remaining historical persons will die off and be replaced with the fictional children who grew up in the shadow of the event.

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OOC: Not necessarily, so long as their parents lived outside the worst-hit areas. I'm going ahead with some historic personages like de Gaulle.

I think the Nazis would work rather well as a cannibal tribe in Austria, which is still uncivilized. Cannibal "aryans" hunting slavs, jews and gypsies, possibly with swastikas tattooed on their forehead like Charles Manson.

As for future flash points, I think it's rather fitting that we have the most potential conflict in central asia and east europe. Even after the end of the world some things never change.

This is for the 1920 turn

Le Temps Nouveau

"Tongue Compromise" Passes Assembly

The contentous debate regarding the future of the Empire's many languages has been resolved- for the moment.

The recent political showdown began with a petition from several current and retired military figures to loosen the rules requiring French to be the sole official language of the armed forces. The rule was intended to prevent orders from becoming lost or misunderstood due to language barriers. But the insistance on recruits being able to speak French has effectively excluded countless capable young Spaniards and Italians, who have been obliged to serve only in local Home Guard units.

The new rules allow for the creation of Italian, Spanish, and Arabic regiments. In these units rank and file soldiers will not have to demonstrate an understanding of French, though it will still be mandatory for officers and enlisted ranks higher than corporal. These units will be otherwise identical to their Francophone equivilants.

The change became a lightning rod for French Martelists, who decried it as "an assault on French identity and tradition." Italian and Spanish politicians countered that it was a practical necessity and moral obligation to allow more lower class non-French to serve the Empire.

A Martellist bloc was able to prevent the law from passing through the spring session. But upon return from the Summer recess many Martellist were willing to support a proposal to link the army bill to a proposal from Education Minister Raymond Poincare. The Poincare Act would require mandatory French instruction for secondary schools in non-francophone regions of the Empire, and require French students to study one of several official languages: Spanish, Italian, Catalan, or Arabic.

Poincare's proposal was not directly related to the military, but was rather aimed at assuring a sufficient population of multi-lingual graduates to help fill the government's need for translators. Regionalist groups, particularly from Catalonia, balked at the measure and called it "cultural warfare." But Social Imperialist Party leader Pierre Laval championed the idea of merging the two language laws into a single reform.

"This compromise confirms the place of French as the true lingua franca of our noble Empire, while recognizing the legitimate needs and desires of all Imperial citizens." Laval said in a speech to the Assembly in support of the compromise measure.

Politically speaking, the "affair of the tongues" has been damaging for the Martellist movement. Inflamatory remarks by some Martellist Assemblymen against Spaniards and Italians have scandalized many French moderate conservatives. Further, the hard line taken by the Martelist Party has alienated conservative Italian and Spanish parties, shattering a right-wing coallition that had hoped to dominate in the next election.

Recruitment officers report that even before the vote was official there has been a surge of interest in volunteering in Italy, Spain and Catalonia. Officials are confident that this wave of volunteers will allow the army to comfortably meet the ambitious recruitment goals set by the Emperor, which call for the army to nearly double in size over the next five years.

Build 4 armies for 8 ip

7 Charged in Dreyfus Affair

Interior Minister George Clemenceau announced that seven officers in the Algiers City Police have themselves been arrested. The men, whose names have not been confirmed by the Ministry for their own protection, are charged with attempting to cover up the brutal assault on Mdme Lucie Dreyfus.

Mdme Dreyfus is the widow of Captain Alfred Dreyfus. Captain Dreyfus was posthumously awarded the Legion of Honour for his heroism in retaking the ruined fortress of Brest. Mdme Dreyfus gained fame herself for founding the Dreyfus Foundation, a charitable organization dedicated to helping French Jews resettle in their homeland. Mdme Dreyfus' public efforts to settle Jewish families on her husband's land grants made her a target of harassment and intimidation from anti-semites, which culminated in a brazen attack in broad daylight outside Algiers' Grand Synagouge.

The shocking attack was followed by a still more shocking effort to suppress reports, and intimidate witnesses into identifying several prominent local Arabs as the attackers. One of these witnesses came forward to Le Temps reporter Emile Zola, whose scathing expose prompted an unprecedented investigation from the Imperial Interior Ministry's famed Deuxieme Bureau. Normally employed in counterintelligence and other national security tasks, the Bureau's elite Brigades du Tigre have applied their skills and resources to combating police corruption.

Answering questions from reporters, Bureau chief Louis Lepine promised that the investigation is not over. "These are only the beginning. Corruption and abuse of power have no place in 20th century law enforcement, and they will not be tolerated while I have anything to say about it."

Though now 73 years old, Msr. Lepine displayed the fire and energy that has served him so well in his long carreer in law enforcement. His skillfull policies for managing unruly crowds earned him the nickname "the little man with the big stick" in the immediate aftermath of the Fall. Colorfull and often controversial, the one thing no one has ever accused Louis Lepine of being ineffective. We at Le Temps are optimistic that his efforts to clean up our police force may just be successfull.

In a brief statement, HIM Emperor Napoleon IV said "This investigation has my full support. All true servants of the Empire and its peoples should do their uttmost to cooperate with it, or be prepared to suffer the consequences."

GBIT said:

• Congo vs Sokoto. Which cannibals would win?

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OOC: One is yet still defiant, while the other brings down as many armies (German ones, naturally! ) as it can before ultimately perishing. Perhaps a key to the relative merits of two technology branches?

Ah, and GBIT, is Ireland physically accessible through Scotland? It would appear to my eye that they share the same sort of land border as Morocco and Spain.

Lord Haldane said:

OOC: One is yet still defiant, while the other brings down as many armies (German ones, naturally! ) as it can before ultimately perishing. Perhaps a key to the relative merits of two technology branches?

Ah, and GBIT, is Ireland physically accessible through Scotland? It would appear to my eye that they share the same sort of land border as Morocco and Spain.

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OOC: The land connection between Spain and morocco is news to me.

IMHO, Congo remains the #1 neutral region. They killed more Germans in a single battle than Sokoto has killed French since game start.

Also:
Spend 12 CP and 1 IP on army tech II (assuming I get at least 4 cp for last turn, which seems reasonable)

A ridiculously overblown RP for that might be in the works.

If he was a betting man, Lenin would say that this 13th Army would do great things in its future. From his high perch atop a balcony overlooking the ceremony, he found himself hard-pressed to not be impressed by the grandeur of the proceedings. Five thousand men, standing in tandem looking towards the stage of the vast auditorium. The Imperial Purple and Red banners hanging from the ceiling almost masked the haunting feeling which seemed to pervade the entire rule of General Annenkov since his most blessed takeover. It was truly eerie, having several thousands of eyes fixed on a single man, with half so many voices left unused. Even without auditory equipment, it was no difficulty hearing the somber words uttered from the Patriarch.

Stalin, they say his name is. An exemplary member of the veteran Second Army, he was selected-somewhat surprisingly in this political climate, due to his rather base origins- to be the new General of this thirteenth army. As his rather long-winded envoy to God finished rambling, Stalin walked towards the front of the stage in antithesis to the manner in which another man had, thirty minutes before, left. That man, Zhukov or some such peasant name, had had the honor of being the final man listed as member to the army. The value of his name alphabetically was that he had the opportunity of seeing the following proceeding for Stalin from the very front, as all other spaces were filled by previously listed members of the army. The similarities between the powerful eyes of both men was strangely disconcerting, and Lenin had a bad feeling that the two would cross paths again, under less ideal conditions.

There was no bad feeling, however, about the plan to retake Moscow. Perhaps their weapons were not as advanced as were those told of in the merchants' stories, but 65,000 men was quite a lot for an army Post-Fall, and should, at the least, be able to disease the people of Moscow into submission. Those cannibals had tasted corruption, and enjoyed it; much work would be necessary to take it. But the red tide was coming.

OOC:Should we declare this turn a double-length one? Since we haven't officially been awarded our CPs this late in the week, I mean.

The steady hum of the engines was the only sound as the fabled city of Timbucktu shrank beneath them. The men on the bridge of His Imperial Majesty's Airship Intrepide were focused on their tasks, monitoring the instruments that would report any sudden change in wind, failure in the engines or drop in pressure in the hydrogen filled lift envelopes. They had been through this process countless times in the last five years, but that did not relieve the sense of tension and precision.

Intrepide's commanding officers, Commodore Louis Alfonse Napoleon Bonaparte, looked on with silent approval. The men needed little input from him as Lieutenant Dunois led them through the steadily ascending spiral that took the pride of the Imperial Air Service to its cruising altitude. The Prince Imperial had the rare opportunity to focus on the view out the bridge windows.

The famous, mysterious city of Timbuktu was a dissapointment to most who saw it. Rather than the exotic metropolis the name conjured up, the actual ancient city was mostly a pile of neglected mud-brick buildings sweltering in the sun.
The modern construction was less impressive still, a monotony of stern military barracks and storehouses. The whitewashed grandeur of the new capitol building and the peculiar art nouveau chateau of the Baron added an element of absurdity to the vista. The only truly impressive part of the city in the Prince's mind was the Aerobase, with the massive, gleaming steel roofs of the hangers shining like lighthouses into the morning sky.

When the Intrepide finally reached its station, it continued to circle the city in lazy loops. The mighty Intrepide was not setting out on this cruise alone; it had to wait for the ponderous bulk of the Fraternite and the sleek little Africaine to join formation. Then it was east and north, into the sun and the heart of the desert.

"Well done, gentlemen. Lieutenant, you have the conn. Alert me when our companions signal ready to depart." The lieutenant saluted sharply. The Prince Imperial turned to the only idle person on the bridge. "Lieutenant Colonel, a word with you in my quarters."

The army officer saluted wordlessly and followed. The Prince mentally reviewed the dossier the political office supplied him when he recieved his orders. A few years younger than himself, a Spaniard whose family survived dark days in the Fall by migrating from some sheltered hill in Galicia to Andalucia. Family tradition of naval officers and petty nobility, high scores at the academy. No overt political ties, but a possible closet Carlist, according to the political office. Personal decorations for courage against the Sokotans, but more importantly (in the prince's eyes) his troops were widely praised for their professionalism and discipline.

Just the sort of man you'd expect on a mission this mad, he thought. And he sounds more than a little like my great-granduncle. Such men were the backbone of the Empire, but always bore close watching.

Space was tight on an airship, so the captains quarters were small by earthbound standards. There was room to string a hammock, a small table and a few chairs, one small chest for his personal effects and another for official papers. He opened the latter and unsealed the packet. Unlike virtually every other officer in the air fleet, he knew what they contained; sometimes being a Bonaparte was usefull.

He handed the papers to the army officer without reviewing them. "Lt Colonel Franco, this is our mission: we will procede in company with the Fraternite and the Africaine, flying ENE toward Lake Tchad. Having located a suitable landing place, we will unload your battalion as close as possible to our target: a village called Nigamina, at the confluence of the Chari and Logone Rivers just south of Lake Tchad. We will take the village, fortify it, and establish control over the surrounding countryside. We will secure the local chiefs submission to His Imperial Majesty and deny the Sultan of Sokoto any assistance from them."

Franco nodded as he followed the written orders and consulted the enclosed map. The general thrust of the coming campaign had been a poorly kept secret; one simply could not adapt the bomb bays of a dozen airships into berths of thousands of soldiers and not expect people to talk.

The best efforts of old Marshal Foch had been enough to take the eastern towns of the Sokoto Caliphate, including its namesake. But the Sultan-Caliph himself and his armies had relocated deeper into the interior, moving too fast in the countryside to be caught by the army's ponderous columns. Airships could track the war bands, but without ground support they couldn't inflict decisive losses.

The solution was obvious and deranged: cram troops into airships, split the ships into small task forces and send them deep into the interior. Cut off (or at least contest) access to key water sources, and put pressure on the network of Emirs and chiefs that provide the Sultan's fighting strength. That this sort of airborn infantry movement had only ever been attempted on a small scale, and never deep into enemy territory, had kept Marshal Foch from putting this wild plan into action.

But the Marshal had been futilly chasing the enemy for five years. He was getting impatient. Or rather, the Emperor was getting impatient. The Marshal's prospects of retiring triumphant to a lordship with a chateau and vineyard were decreasing. So the old man had decided to bet big with a series of strikes. The Intrepide would be the furthest north in an arc of attacks from Lake Tchad to the Atlantic coast of Cameroon.

"A worthy mission, your majesty!" Franco smiled audibly as he finished reading. "For God, glory, and the Empire!" He saluted.

The Prince Imperial returned the salute, and dismissed him.

Attack Sokoto with 5 armies, 1 air wing

OOC: Bravo, Deaghaidh. On that note: how do 'yall find so much to write about? I scramble for a pittance of words

So are we taking that hinted map/battle results as the announcement for turn 9 1920? I'd like to know where we stand chronologically, and if I can move on to that time frame.

madtemplar0 said:

OOC: Bravo, Deaghaidh. On that note: how do 'yall find so much to write about? I scramble for a pittance of words

So are we taking that hinted map/battle results as the announcement for turn 9 1920? I'd like to know where we stand chronologically, and if I can move on to that time frame.

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OOC: It helps to have very little going on in your life

I spend a lot of time on Wikipedia, trolling through articles for potentially interesting people or places. But to be honest I'm probably out of ways to RP invading Sokoto. If 5 lvl 2 armies AND air support can't do it, I give up.

I've been treating the battle results as the start of the turn, and all my posts since then have been meant for 1920.

Deaghaidh said:

OOC: It helps to have very little going on in your life

I spend a lot of time on Wikipedia, trolling through articles for potentially interesting people or places. But to be honest I'm probably out of ways to RP invading Sokoto. If 5 lvl 2 armies AND air support can't do it, I give up.

I've been treating the battle results as the start of the turn, and all my posts since then have been meant for 1920.

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OOC: Don't give up! Don't give in to French stereotypes! Prove them wrong!!!!!!!!!!

And, good. I hope that was GBIT's intent. I plan on taking your(our) position a step further, and proceed to write for next turn's results. Kinda.

***



The Whitestone One, the First Throne, the Forty Forties. The Third Rome. Moscow.

They were still a good three hundred miles from the city, just outside Voronezh. Their route could not be called straight, for they approached from Samarkand but had to stay close to trails which allowed for over fifty thousand men to be fed and cared for daily. After what seemed to be endless marching, they were outside the first large outpost of expatriates which had to be retired by force. Voronezh, the town was called, and although not nearly as mighty as their ultimate target, Voronezh was a dangerous place for any army to attack. For, quite unfortunately, they faced the mightiest wall one finds on this earth- water. The Voronezh river was no small stream, and the only ways across were the rather feeble Stepana Razina bridge, and a pair of wading points connected by a tiny island called Vogrisovsky. At most, fifty men could at a time cross the wading point, while the bridge would be even worse: Stepana Razina's heavy defenses would have no issue holding a line of advance which would be at best three men wide. All this was known, which explains why Stalin was taking his men South away from the town. But an explanation did not make him like it any better.

He was to take his men to Novovoronezh, a glorified hamlet some seven miles away. It was also home to the only other major crossing point within a week's march. According to the plan they had concocted back at the main camp- without Annenkov to make decisions, the minor generals had to throw a strategy together on their own- Stalin would lead two brigades across this other bridge tonight, and use them to hold the bridge and port long enough for the other brigades to cross and form a permanent foothold for the Emperor and his armies. From there, they would flood the city and crush the relatively small amount of resistance. 65,000 of the realm's best men should be able to kill a few thousand peasants.

The next morning, the force had its first break. They were a mile outside the town proper, hiding in plain sight in the tall corn fields of a rather unlucky farmer. As there were no horses in the two brigades, they had no issues keeping quiet and out of view. Their attack was to take place at sunset, and so the men gratefully slept for a full eight hours. Perhaps they were the best, but then again even gods sleep. As the lights of the town began being lit- from Stalin's view, only a quarter of the town was in full repair, let alone lit up- he ordered his men to formation. They lit their torches, and set to work.



It was all but over in a few hours, and the only resistance was outside a church; even this was being cleared as Stalin walked towards the rebuilt General's tent just next to the dock. Looking towards that dock, it was hard to ignore the piles of corpses which were, thankfully, decorated with the purple and gold of the Pretender rather than the purple and red of the Emperor. Only a few hundred men had been lost in taking a fortified town with several thousand members of resistance. This was quite a good sign. One thing, however, worried him quite too much.

During the fight, a man called Zhukov had more than proven his worth. Perhaps this should be a good thing, but his manner of heroism was rather disturbing to an established general like himself. Zhukov's captain had been killed, one of the more powerful effects of the battle. In response, rather than allow the next Lieutenant in line to take command, Zhukov stepped up and began issuing orders even before he pinned on the deceased's gold. What made this absolutely horrifying was that men actually listened to him, rather than laughing him out of the coat. And now, Stalin was about to recognize him as a legitimate power!

The road to Moscow had been opened, and they would be there in a few weeks. The only knife Stalin had to watch out for was that of his Captain's, and he did not like that one bit. Only time would tell what his nefarious command would do for power.


They were now at the gates of Moscow itself. Or, at least, within a day's march of it. The anticipation was killing him, but Stalin realized he would have to make sure he knew his part of the plan as much as any other general for the battle to work. The men who held Moscow for the Pretender were much more organized and powerful than any of them had anticipated it was said one of the Generals of the Pretender himself was there, the cousin one- Dmitry Ivanovich. He was a grizzled veteran, and it would be difficult to dislodge him and his men. It even appeared that they had a cavalry brigade! How a man finds that many horses in this wasteland was beyond Stalin. But nonetheless, they had to truly think over the plans.

As usual, they decided that numbers would win. Six brigades would attack first, approaching from all sides. Their purpose would be to draw out, then withdraw and overrun at a weak point, the cream of the enemy army, namely its cavalry brigade. Then, five brigades would assault all across the city, condensing on a weak spot. The original wave would then regroup with the second wave, and create a path for the last two brigades under Stalin to charge in and break the city.

As usual, nothing went according to plan.



The city had what could be called walls, even for its size; due to the sudden drop in population after the fall, only the core of the city remained active. As such, the outlying districts were abandoned, and thus were free to be left as piles of ever so cheap wall. This was planned for, but what was not expected was the sudden charge of cavalry. As the first six brigades ran to the six gates- holes in the rubble, truly- the cavalry came running from a cornfield just like the one Stalin was in. The cavalry ran down scores of troops before anyone could even blink, and within a few minutes the first wave was a complete mess. The second wave was launched to circle the cavalry, in an attempt to pincer the similar action of those horsemen. As this occurred, A second force of enemy footmen flooded from the surrounding countryside as if by magic. The fighting was close, and intense. Many men died, and it was impossible to tell which side exactly had the edge. All communication was lost, and Stalin saw several of his fellow Generals fall from their valuble, rare mounts- he himself opted out of one for his operation. It was into this chaos that he plunged the two brigades under his command.

His forces brought some semblance of order to the battle. Royalists ran to his standard, and they formed a rock for soldiers to put their backs to. Not meaning to be encircled, Stalin led his men across the battlefield, a walking all of death. As the carnage built, Stalin took his men deeper into the fray; eventually, he realized they had unwittingly arrived inside the city proper. He started towards a series of partially standing homes, and had his men spread out. From this vantage, they held off many waves of enemy advances- from within the very city these men were supposed to defend. It appeared that Ivanovich had insanely- but with more than a bit of genius- placed most of his troops outside the "walls" in preparation for the battle. Stalin fired after a pair of gold and purple pants when he heard a mighty voice roar over the carnage.

It could only be Ivanovich himself, leading his guard from the Kremlin. If Stalin and the three generals with him could hold this position, they would have all but destroyed the defense. But at what cost? Ivanovich threw himself at their line, and it appeared that he would overtake them. Stalin was just about to command a retreat deeper into the city, where there were larger buildings from which more concentrated defense could be arranged, when that damnable Zhukov was legible from across the road. He led the men with him straight towards the Pretender's hound, and it appeared that he would make it when...

***

OOC: Let's see what the battle results say first.

EDIT: changing regiments, divisions, etc. to be the correct number for my size of 5000 per, "brigade."

OOC: Is there a max text limit? I'm not sure, so I'm putting this in a new post and saving the other one as a word doc. I hope you enjoy it.

So, to recap for this turn as Deaghaidh and I take it, I build armies with my 6 IP using Russia's ability. Then with all 13 armies I attack Moscow.

Germany: I would like to talk to you about Poland...Oh, the irony! But seriously. What do you wish to do about the region, and our relative positions on it. In my ideal world, I get both it and Scandinavia, but I realize this is not very likely. Can we come to a realistic agreement?

madtemplar0 said:

Germany: I would like to talk to you about Poland...Oh, the irony! But seriously. What do you wish to do about the region, and our relative positions on it. In my ideal world, I get both it and Scandinavia, but I realize this is not very likely. Can we come to a realistic agreement?

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OOC: I'd been assuming since the region includes east Prussia that it would go to Germany as they'd have the strongest claim. Else I'd be going after it to add the Poles to my little Slavic empire.

Polar Mongoose said:

OOC: I'd been assuming since the region includes east Prussia that it would go to Germany as they'd have the strongest claim. Else I'd be going after it to add the Poles to my little Slavic empire.

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OOC: France's proposed division of Europe gave that territory to Germany, and considered Scandanavia free to whomever takes it first. Balance of power wise, Germany might be the ideal owner in my eyes. Don't know that I care enough to actually get involved in the situation though.