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(OOC I just got back my power after losing it for the last 5 days, that’s why I couldn’t post recently, damn storm… lots of innuendos here, not sure how some will take it, after the last 5 days of waking up and going to my house and see a tree in my living room, plus arquing with my girlfriend… well its just been one of those weeks... I live in New Jersey... no not Hoboken... might as well be)

St. Peter: In your own words Pietro, please tell me about your reign as Doge.

Pietro: Well it all started on December 30, 1539. I wanted Ducats, and in order to get them, I believed the New World was the place to go, so I sent Gritti’s squadron to Moron where we were building up our troops. However just before they arrived our allies the Spanish declared war on my first target, the Mayans. No they didn’t send troops there, but nonetheless, I wanted to get the spoils of victory from them.

I lead our armies at the beginning of the year to become better at sieges, and we lost stability due to some Army generals disagreement with me.

On April 1st, 1540… Croatia dares to revolt our rule, 7,000 rebels rise against me, I send our Venetian home army to personally subdue them, with my cousin, who is quite ruthless in his ways. I send 10,000 soldiers with my cousin, and rebuild a new Venetian home force of 7,000 soldiers just in case.

On the 13th of April, our colony in Bermuda is expanded as well.

In May of the same year I establish a trading post at Maracaibo due to lack of funds.

On the 15th of May, the Istria Regiment my dear cousin controls, finally starts to subdue the Croatians

And on June 4th, my dear cousin proclaims victory over the heretics.

St. Peter: I see you don’t mention much of any failures.

Pietro: Well I can’t control failure, I’m only responsible for success, failure is due to subordinates acting like the French, success is achieved when we don’t act like French swine.

On July 11th, Gritti’s expedition is off the coast of the Mayan Capital, we declare war on them, with slightly under 6,000 infantry.

St. Peter: What does this do for your nation? For the Mayans?

Pietro: Patience, the Venetian Pope says, anything that makes Venice stronger you’d be happy with, you wouldn’t disagree with my Pope would you?

St. Peter: Those people don’t deserve…

Pietro: Everyone either has to pay us off or submit and become Venetian Catholics, or suffer the consequences…. Understood?

St. Peter: Down boy… I can see why your wife referred to you as a Pit Bull.

Pietro: She said I’m hung like a horse…

St. Peter: ::mumbles hung like a Shetland pony::

Pietro: Anyways at least I was loved by the royalty, the women loved me, they said I was the best…

St. Peter: Smelling… Venetians bathe… French don’t…

Pietro: ::raises an eyebrow:: ::ponders to himself, I should quit while I’m ahead::

St Peter: ::he laughs softly being able to read Pietro’s mind… thinking to himself ::as if Pietro was ever ahead::

Pietro: so our almost 6,000 troops battle almost 20,000 Mayans starting on August 4th, 1540. 15 days later they run like the heathens they are, and we didn’t lose a single man to them…

St. Peter: Yes but you did in your youth, at the Venetian baths…

Pietro: Now now, I was drunk on wine, doesn’t mean anything…

St. Peter: Perhaps but you did lose your…

Pietro: ::coughs loudly:: ok ok…. So by the 17th of September, the Yucatan is under Venetian control… On the 5th of October, Macacaibo is upgraded to a level 2 colony. We gain valuable Maps from the Yucatan was well as peace for 97,500 Ducats, which we happily accept. With this we immediately send a colonist to Cuyini.

St. Peter: Such restraint not to conquer the pagans.

Pietro: I did most of the conquering in my life in my bed.

St. Peter: And suffered many defeats too…

Pietro: Only to my wife… the so-called “Queen” of Cypress, 2 days before the Holyist Day on the Calendar, my wife actually finds a competent explorer… I’m amazed. She did something outside the bedroom for once, I think I rubbed off on her…

St. Peter: Yes ever since she met you, she has.

Pietro: See, even you admit my positive influence on her…

St. Peter: it still amazes me how you had children… anyways go on.

Pietro: Well I’d show you how children are made, but since we’re both males I can’t really do it

St. Peter: Even if I was female, you couldn’t

Pietro: Well um… ah yes, I chose Sicily as a staging point for the expedition, I sent most of my ships there, and began building an army with which the expedition would travel to lands. And finally on the 26th of January 1541 we get a trading post in Cuyuni. On March 1st just something of note… Skane revolted to Sweden, we’re happy that Denmark is weaker, I think they’re almost like the French, but they at least bathe, and don’t eat snails…
 
Kurt Brian: Thanks, just experimenting with methods...

Sharur: Guess you'd like my part 2 even better... heh

Mr T: heh I would of done all of that... but our BB would of been at a thousand.

Saint: Last thing I wanted after a civil war, was to get into a huge European Campaign, I figured let us lose 1 pt of BB and go a little more global, now if only Benin would of let me have what I wanted... ugh

The Pole: Yes I know, I just want the tree out of my living room =)

Part 3 should be tomorrow... sorry for the delay, at least Paradox can be happy I had to buy another copy of EU2 =)
 
Who cares if he makes it!

This is great stuff!!:D:)
 
Well done, well told and a wise choice in expanding your colonies. Hmm maybe you should be on the B team. :D

Joe
 
Originally posted by Storey
Well done, well told and a wise choice in expanding your colonies. Hmm maybe you should be on the B team. :D

Joe
Bite your tongue! :D

Great again AvA. Need to borrow a chainsaw? Best of luck, sir, and I hope that the recovery process isn't too horrendous.
 
July, 1541

-A small tavern in Istria


Franco Donato wiped the remaining droplets of wine from his beard. Across the table, Giovanni Fracelli frowned in disapproval.

"You drink too much these days, Franco." Donato snorted.

"And why should I not? A minor man, a forgotten man, who has given his entire life to Venice, as did my father. And what is my reward? I am a tax collector, exiled to spend my last years squeezing gold from shepherds." Donato took another pull from his jug.

"So you invite death, Franco? That is the path of the suicide- the path to Hell." Donato's scowl deepened yet further.

"And what if it is Hell that I choose? How many great men do you truly think rest now in the bosom of Christ? Kingdoms are built on a foundation of bones and a mortar of blood. If I cannot be written down as a great man alongside Caesar, then I shall burn alongside him." Fracelli crossed himself.

"Do you deny hope? Not just for the Heavenly Kingdom, but for God's grace upon this earth?" Donato snorted.

"I see precious little evidence of God's mercy at work in my life or the world at large."

At that moment, a messenger burst into the tavern. "SIGNOR DONATO! FRANCO DONATO!" Donato raised his hand unsteadily to give the messenger a fig. Fracelli slapped it down, and got a fig himself for his trouble. Fracelli waved the messenger over.

"Here is Signor Donato. Speak quickly, for I am afraid he will pass out soon." The messenger bowed, his carefully neutral expression as eloquent as any smirk.

"Signor Donato. I have a message from the Doge. You have been elected to the Senate, and you are requested to return as soon as possible." Donato stared in disbelief. "I suggest waiting until morning, Signor." The messenger bowed again and left.

Fracelli looked smugly at his old friend. "There, now. How can you now deny the truth of God's infinite mercy? Has He not given you a clear sign in the depths of your greatest doubt?" Donato smiled and rose to his feet, all traces of his drunkenness gone.

"We shall see about that, old friend. For God has sent me into the closest thing to Hell I have yet encountered."

"The Senate?"

"I meant more generally Venice in July. The stench, Fracelli. I do not miss that. The entire town smells like mule piss." Donato put on his hat. "Well. To the docks?"
 
Ah, the optimist and the pessimist. Should be good :)

I'm sorry to see that Alwin couldn't finish :( But I know that Prufrock will be a more than capable replacement, even if it is for the A-Team...

EDIT: Yeah, well, uh... :eek:
 
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Sharur- I should note, as I did in the OOC thread as well, that I don't mean to usurp Alwin's place. I'm just itchy to post SOMETHING, and I thought I might as well establish my Doge's start as an embittered provincial official under Pietro Lando.

I'm as anxious as anyone to see St. Peter's final judgment on my esteemed predecessor. :D
 
Originally posted by Secret Master
Ahem....

Just wondering, fellow A-Teamers, have we hit a snag in our posting? Or are we letting B-Team play catch-up?

*cough* actually the B-Team is ahead now. ;)
 
August 14, 1541

Franco Donato sat at the steps of the fountain, scattering breadcrumbs to the pigeons. Fracelli wandered up, a broad smile on his face.

"Franco! Don't tell me you're actually peacefully enjoying yourself!" Donato snorted.

"Strictly for public consumption. I hope to Christ these damnable pigeons drop of a plague." Fracelli chuckled ruefully. The two men wandered off, down the quiet alleys away from the lagoon.

"Well, you could always ask for a commission in the African army."

"If I didn't dislike the bloody flux slightly more than pigeons, I would." Donato sighed. "Venice. Senator of Venice."

"As was your father. Surely you can admit to some satisfaction?" Donato shrugged.

"I've been away so long. And Lando and his ridiculous dreams of empire... it's like going to the village of your birth, finding your first true love, and discovering that she is now a washerwoman who lies with men for money. So you throw down two ducats." Fracelli arched an eyebrow.

"How miserable you would be, Franco, if you didn't enjoy being unhappy so much." Donato snorted. Fracelli leaned forward. "And if you were Doge?"

"Well, I'd be able to yell at people more freely. And I'd be able to rub shoulders with a more refined class of blithering idiot..." Dontato paused and studied Fracelli's face. "You're completely serious." Fracelli nodded. "And just how is that going to happen?"

"The Senate is boiling with frustration, Franco. The old families grow more powerful and more smug with every passing year. And now Lando, with his Atlantic empire and his winking lewdness... there are many who do not like the path our Republic is taking. Until now, the old families have played musical chairs for the Doge's throne and quieted everyone else with victories and money. But now- now there is you. The incorruptible son of an incorruptible father. A man who disdains the simpering falsehoods of an effete court." Donato stared for a long while.

"And just how would you make me Doge? By rope, or poison, or dagger?" Fracelli opened his mouth, and closed it. Donato shook his head. "Leave me with my thoughts, Fracelli." Fracelli bowed, deeply embarrassed, and retreated down the alley. Donato sighed.

The next morning he sent a messenger to the Doge with his resignation and left for his father's farm in the hills. At the first ridge, he pulled up on the reins and turned to take a last look at Venice, the smoking chimneys and the flash of sails upon the blue sea.

"Well," he sighed to himself, "so much for that."