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The Dark Lord Kelebek
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Mar 4, 2016
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Chapter 1: Brie-f Introductions

Augustus Mussolini withdrew into his private office following the public address.

The Western Roman Empire circa 1937AD

It had worked. Years and years of hoping, of dreaming, had come to fruition in just a few short months. And it was all thanks to one remarkable occurrence, so astonishing the great leader still could scarcely believe it all happened.

The lights of the office dimmed as he was cast back many moons ago, to that fateful night…


31st of December, 1935


Some baldy in a hat

“Wake up.”

Benito Mussolini bolted upright in bed, sleeping cap flopping into his eyes. Before him was an impossibility, a grey-faced man clad in the Roman fashion, glowing and floating several inches off the carpet.

“What-who are you?”

“I am the Ghost of Julius Cheesare,” the spirit said, gravely. “I appear to you now, to prevent the destruction of Italy.”

Well…that was a bit of an ego-bruiser, Mussolini thought. To be thought of as so useless by one of his idols that the guy resurrected himself to tell him off. But surely, this was nonsense?

“Surely, this is nonsense!”

The Ghost of Julius Cheesare drew himself up, somehow, and fixed the sleepy-eyed fascist with a glare that had shattered armies.

“I assure you; this is makes perfect sense!” His voice echoed in the silence that followed, daring anyone to refute such logic.

“Um. Alright then. So…you are Julius Cesare himself?”

“Cheesare. And yes, I am he, who forged a mighty empire, only to be slain by that rat bastard Brutus and his ilk. Wankers. I got my revenge eventually. Sicced Alighieri on their asses. Damn good fun, that was.”

“You spoke with Dante?”

“I speak to all the great Italians. And you, I guess. Anyway, we are getting off track…” the spirit raised a hand and pointed at Mussolini dramatically. “Be warned, O Man! You know not what you do.”

“I’m sorry?”

The ghost slumped slightly. “Translation: you’re a fucking idiot and going to get Italy ganked by everyone. Again. You even manage to screw up an invasion of Greece, which believe me, was mortifying to find out. Alexander was insufferable. Do you know how smug that prick is? The only guy he shuts up around is Genghis Khan, and he’s not much better.”

Mussolini opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find something to say to all that. Finally, he decided on, “So…what do I do?”

The Ghost of Julius Cheesare smiled, drew up a chair, sat down in it, cracked his fingers and beckoned the mortal in close. “I’m going to teach you how to beat the game.”

And so, Mussolini listened, and slowly over the course of untold hours, the spirit of Cheese entered his heart and his eyes opened to the world around him.

“My God, I have been so foolish!”

“Oh yes, yes indeed. Now, the last step. Do everything right, conquer all these lands, and you can declare a New Roman Empire. With New Roman Empire, all these cores will be yours, and Rome will be restored forevermore.”

“But…what about religion? Cultural identity and variations? Languages? Socio-political economic issues?”

“All these cores,” the spirit repeated, “will be yours. All that stuff is irrelevant. It’s all about cores in this game of ours. Suffice to say, if you are truly worried about it for some reason, that everyone becomes Roman, will speak Italian/Latin, and be totally ok with being under your rule. Who cares about the details?”

“No, you’re right,” Mussolini said hurriedly. “Only…” he hesitated.

“Go on,” the spirit said, eyes glittering.

Mussolini gulped, but continued, “Why do I need to conquer all these places before starting the Empire? Can’t I just say I’m the new emperor, and then conquer them, collected the cores as I go?”

A heavy silence descended upon the room, and Mussolini’s heart hammered in his chest. But then, the Ghost of Julius Cheesare laughed a mighty laugh, and smacked the fascist on the back.

“So, you have passed the final test of Cheese. You are correct, of course. I hereby bestow upon you New Roman Empire, her cores and her powers.”

“You mean-?”


Augustus Mussolini, First Emperor of the Restored Roman Empire, 1937AD

“Yes! Arise, Augustus Cheeseolini.”


The Emperor smiled. It all just sort of…fell into place afterwards. Newly revitalised, his divisions, though no less poorly equipped, were reformed and reorganised into two proper armies. His men swept through Ethiopia, and conquered it. With the eyes of the world watching, Augustus Mussolini proclaimed his Nova Imperium over the old Roman lands, and that Sub-Saharan Africa was not to be a part of it. Ethiopia would therefore become a vassal state: Italian East Africa, and be joined by Unitary Eritrea and the Ajuran Empire.

Roman East Africa circa 1937AD

The world’s reaction was one of confusion as to whether these new nations counted as colonies, or mere Italian protectorates. There was more concern, and derision, over Mussolini’s claims of reuniting most of Europe, the Middle East and North Africa into one empire beneath him.

Looking back, the great leader admitted he probably shouldn’t have started wearing that golden laurel wreath crown right away.

But his countrymen were ecstatic, as were the Libyans who were no longer colonial subjects but equals under the new regime.

The Italian military began planning how to continue their successes, with the elephant in the room being France. It was the lynchpin of all their efforts. If they could but take the mainland, let alone anything else, the Empire’s future would be that much more secure. France however, was powerful and scary-looking. They also had a key advantage: a proper navy.

Mussolini did not understand navies, but knew enough to keep all his boats safely locked away in ports. Eventually, the admiralty along with the rest of the military forced him to recognise that yes, he would need to use some ships to get an army to Portugal. Having planned it out and declared war, the great leader hid his eyes and peeked from behind his hands as the invasion went swimmingly (aka, there was no swimming needed). Portugal fell with ease, her navy and army caught completely by surprise.

Mussolini calmed himself down with a nice bath, and then got about the business of empire building. Portugal and her islands off the coast of Africa and Europe would remain with the Empire. Her African colonies were given independence as vassal states: the Angolan Empire and Great Mozambique. The tiny Asian enclaves Portugal had managed to hold onto were of no interest to Rome or Mussolini, and were thus given back to India and China.

The Portuguese themselves were sullen but pacified, especially when they found out where the Empire was going next. Spain was by this time about to enter a civil war, and Rome declared that for the good of the peninsula, they were to intervene to keep the peace and restore order. After crushing both the Republicans and the Nationalist enclaves that would not submit, Mussolini again pronounced that Spain would be re-joined with the Empire. This time, there was not much of an oversea empire to reorganise. The Empire of Desert was proclaimed south of Morocco, whilst everything north of that stayed under Rome.

France was now surrounded on two fronts, one of which was poorly defended and fortified. It was also far away from the bulk of the French army, protected the Maginot Line from German assault. Knowing he had to move quickly, Mussolini ordered a full invasion of France. The fighting was hard and long. Naval bombers kept the French Fleet pinned in the Mediterranean, but there was nothing the Romans could do to stop them moving units and ships in the Atlantic and elsewhere. The long and short of it was that, though mainland France and Corsica fell to Roman might eventually, the Italian army was decimated, and the majority of the French forces had escaped to their African Empire. Whilst Mussolini managed to seize French North Africa as well as aid a revolt which led to an independent Syria, that was all. The Free French Republic, though technically now at peace with the Roman Empire, remained mighty and bitterly opposed to the occupation of their homeland.


Roman West Africa circa 1937AD

Belgium and the Netherlands, after all that, turned out to be a bit of an anti-climax. Their populations were rather welcoming of someone, anyone, replacing their awful governments. The Belgian colonial empire was transformed into the Italian Congo, whilst the Dutch East Indies pulled the same trick as the Free French and declared independence. They were however a lot less antagonistic towards the Empire, recognising perhaps that their freedom was owed to Mussolini’s armies.

Roman Southern Africa circa 1937AD

The final wars of expansion were not the hardest fought, but certainly the most complex invasions of the campaign. Switzerland was undeniably Roman, and thus needed to be annexed. Yet conquering the place took months of bombing and blasting, and earned Italy more ire from the world than invading France did. Likewise, Austria was not particularly well-liked in the international community, but Mussolini was well aware Hitler had his eyes on the prize. Thus, whilst Rome did reclaim Tyrol as was their right, the rest of the country was left independent and free…free to be eaten by Germany at their leisure.

Roman Vassal States circa 1937AD

Mussolini relaxed in his armchair and dozed. The Empire was established, somewhat secure, and in a rare bit of peace. The armies were diminished from their year and a half of war, but were rebuilding, with the millions of men now fierce Roman patriots who could join, or be forced, into their ranks. Repairing the continent, and linking it up with rail networks, would take some time. But after that…

Mussolini smiled in his sleep. After that, the Eastern Roman Empire needed to be rebuilt.

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That was hilarious.
Chapter 2: The Big Cheeses of the World
Chapter 2: The Big Cheeses of the World
2nd January 1937

The German Situation circa 1937AD
“Good morning gentlemen.”

“Heil Cheesare!” the room of generals, aides and party members voiced as one. Almost as if their characters all amounted to one chorus devoid of much character or interest.

“What news from beyond the borders?”

“Well, Your Imperial Majesty, we remain broadly ok with the Germans existing as they currently are, whilst they are falling over themselves to worship at our Empire’s feet.”


We are NOT amused

“Excellent!” roared Augustus Cheeseolini, “that little shit Hitler better bloody beg, the things he’s said about us behind our backs all these years. You think you know a guy and then it turns out he’s been laughing at you behind your back.”

“And to our faces.”

“And in his books.”

“Yes, alright! I probably should have seen it coming,” Cheeseolini snapped, regally. “It doesn’t matter now anyway, since they’re apparently all over us. Why is that, by the way?”

“Well, for one, it has allegedly proven that fascism is the natural way forward for European identity. For two, pretty much all of Hitler’s enemies are now dead or enslaved-”

“-happy and valued new citizens,” the Great Leader corrected.

“Yes. So, Germany now can focus on their actual top-secret goals.”

“The secret invasion of the Soviet Union?”

“Yes. Another curious move by the Fuhrer there, publishing his battleplans decades in advance. I would question it, but apparently Stalin can’t read German.”

“Ah yes, Stalin. How is the Red Menace?”


Uncle Joe is a-okay with us...so long as we don't do anything

“Feeling uneasy. This letter ‘asking’ us for a non-aggression pact is half-illegible with tears.”

“What about the other half?”

“Illegible with the blood of whomever said we weren’t a threat before now.”

“Excellent! Let them fear us. Sign the deal though, I’m fucking terrified of Russia.”

The whole room shuddered. Russia was big and scary. Not like Rome. Rome was big and cuddly. And smelled faintly of mozzarella and death.

“Any other news, my minions?”


Vaguely confusingly pro-Roman stance

“The Americans are...confused by us. They hate the world tension we have caused, and the invasions and the stifling of democracy and so on. But then again, they also love us for decolonising and imposing self-rule in so much of Africa. FDR must be hedging his bets on us sticking around, even if he does suck massive British c-”

“And the British?” Cheeseolini politely interrupted.


The hatred is mutual

“Absolutely despise us, given what we did to France. Now they’re seriously worried they may actually have to do something. And if there’s one thing Stanley Baldwin hates, it’s action. I sent them a non-aggression pact just to see what they’d do.”

“What did they do?”

“Sent it back signed, but with a string of strongly worded letters that they actually sent.”

“Good lord, they must be thoroughly annoyed and hacked off.”

“They’ve also started arming their armed forces again. Bit worrying that.”

“Yes. Not going to come to anything though?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t think they’ll muster enough will to get involved in a scrape in the Balkans after last time…but they’ve surprised us before.”

The meeting room was quiet for a while, in contemplation.

“I know!” Mussolini said suddenly. “Let’s start a top-secret spy agency!”


Let's go spy on the Nazis!

Everyone applauded and it was so.

“Your Imperial Majesty, the leaders of our Empire’s vassal states are here to take instruction.”

“Excellent! Send them in. Prepare the golden throne and supplication cushions.”

A few minutes later, various men began wandering into the throne room, and as each entered and knelt, the Romans became increasingly confused and bewildered.

“Um…minion?” Cheeseolini whispered to his aide.

“Yes, your Imperial Majesty?”


“Um…I didn’t realise we’d given control of Africa to a family of identical siblings.”

“Well...one of them is in a suit?”

“Yes…I just…stop me if I’m wrong but…isn’t this just a little bit racist?”

The fascists all looked at one another. An awkward silence fell.

After an achingly long thirty seconds, the ghost of Julius Cheesare burst in from out of nowhere and shouted at them to get on with it.

“Ok then…minions and vassals of the Empire! How goes our empire building endeavour?”

Bean-counter stepped forward and laid a stack of papers on the table before setting fire to them as irrelevant. “As you already know, your Imperial Majesty, your uniquely excellent socio-economic plan has seen every region of the Empire integrated into one collective whole. Transport, currency, business, finances, law and order have all been successfully adapted in the New Order. Apparently, our only problem has been that transport infrastructure is not quite up to snuff and we’re currently building a huge train and road network to link the whole empire together. It’s fantastically expensive and complicated, but fortunately I’m dealing with all of that stuff. You just have to take this paintbrush and slather blue all over the map.”

“Like this?”

“Wonderful, your Imperial Majesty. We shall have the Empire up and running in no time. Try not to have a massive desert war for a few years, and our armies shall, at least in our own territories, always be well-supplied and manoeuvrable.”

“Is there a chance of a desert war any time soon?” Cheeseolini wondered, wisely.


“I don’t think so. Maybe the Filthy Free French Republic will come back for revenge at some point, but you wisely forced them into a truce and non-aggression pact in exchange for not continuing the war with them.”

“I did?”

“Well, you have now.”

“Ah, I see. Excellent. Anything else?”

“It can wait whilst the remaining vassals show up.”


“Oh, more clones. I mean, siblings.” The Great Leader nodded at each regally as they all walked in, with one mind and (practically) one body. “This is slightly surreal, I must say. What’s Liberia doing here?”

“We somehow conquered them on the way to Portugal.” The lone and slightly dishevelled admiral at the back piped up helpfully, “I think some of our ships got lost or something.”

“Wow…we suck at boats. Are we doing anything about that?”

“Absolutely nothing, mighty Cheesare.”

“Yes, hmm, maybe that’s for the best. You were saying, Bean-counter?”

“Indeed, as I was saying, your Imperial Majesty. The outer vassals will be integrated to our standards, as soon as we figure out what those are. Mostly resource extraction, I suppose. Most of them aren’t much good for anything else. And we may want to fire whomever is in charge of naming things.”

“Oh? I quite like the imperial theme and espousing of empire, no matter how pathetically small and weak the state happens to be.”

“Indeed, mighty Cheesare! I do not dispute such effective branding. But…well, just look at what they called this one.”


“Ah. Yes. Quite confusing. Especially as there is in fact, an independent Dutch empire still out there, also on an island.”

“Indeed sire. Although they seem to be dead set on pretending to be the Republic of Indonesia, and non-aligned, despite having the Dutch Queen as head of state and a brutal white regime ruling over millions of natives.”


“Sounds entirely morally neutral to me. How very Dutch.”

There is a scuffle at the door, and several loud, screeching noises.

“What the devil is going on over there?” Cheeseolini asked, sagely.

“Ah. Probably the head of Applied Science. You remember, you set them the task of improving our tanks?” Bean-counter answered, humbly bowing and getting rather quickly out of the way.

It was well he did so, for the crowd parted like the Red Sea as an Italian light tank smashed into the throne room, ruining the façade and breaking the doors.

“I’ve done it sir! I’ve done it! The L6 light tank is better in every conceivable way from our old one.”


“Is it?” the Great Leader said, dubiously.

“It is mostly better in some possible ways, yes.”

“That’s not what you…never mind. How long will it take to refit the army?”

“Given that most of them were killed by the Swiss, not too long I should think, mighty Cheesare,” Bean-counter said, from a safe distance. “Probably around about the time this lunatic builds a better tank.”

“That is both pleasing and infuriating to mine ears.”

“That’s logistics, your Imperial Majesty.”


“At least the world is at peace, and we’ve struck oil in Libya,” the Great Leader mused. “We might be able to fuel ourselves…at least for a little while.”

The throne room was then filled with hundreds of freshly minted soldiers, whilst outside, the Head of Applied Aircraft Making thought better of smashing his new invention into the building. It was a close thing though.


“Alright you lot! Bugger off and begin plans for the conquest of Yugoslavia! But don’t tell anyone, it’s a secret.” Augustus Cheeseolini gave his decree.

The throne room emptied of men, tanks and puppet clones. Mighty Cheesare sat alone on his throne, and thought great thoughts. Then he decided to go have a bath.

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What am I even reading?
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Good to see you ‘on the job’ again mate, will catch up on this new one in the next few days.
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Chapter 3: Yoghurt in Yugoslavia, as part of a Balanced Balkan Breakfast
Chapter 3: Yoghurt in Yugoslavia, as part of a Balanced Balkan Breakfast

1st May 1937

“Excellent news, mighty Cheesare!”

“It is currently 8am, Alan. If you have woken Mr. Snuggly, I will feed you to him.”

Alan the aide eyed Mr Snuggle like a man trapped in a room with a slumbering lion.


“We have broken the German cipher, your Imperial Majesty,” he whispered, and handed over the SIM document.

“Ah. And what secrets have SIM derived so far?”

“It turns out the Nazis are planning on building up the German Army!”



“But what about the Treaty?”

“They are doing it in secret. And also, on film.”

“A typical Nazi trick.”

“Indeed. I would say they were disgusting fascists, but my mother is one. So, they aren’t all bad, I guess.”

“Quite. Alright then Alan, since Mr. Snuggly remains abed, I suppose a stay in execution is warranted. Anything else I should know?”

“The INC have triumphed in provincial elections.”


“Ah yes…who?”

“The Indian National Conference. A disgusting attempt by the British to try and hold onto their crumbling jewel of their empire.”

“And they are doing well?”

“Fairly well, your Imperial Majesty. It seems India will remain under British Yolk for some time to come.”

“Damnation! I was hoping their eastern holdings would just sort of collapse and they’d hand over Egypt without a fuss.”

“I am sorry, mighty Cheesare.”

“That’s alright Alan. I know you tried your best. Any other news?”

“Hindenburg exploded into flames and killed quite a few horrified onlookers.”


“I thought he was dead?”

“So did SIM. They’re scrambling to figure out what happened.”

“Hmm. Keep me posted on that. Anything else?”


“Well, it looks as though China is actually going to try to fight Japan. They’ve gathered a bunch of allies and pretty much united the continent against them.”

“Bugger. Hitler was hoping Japan would be useful against Russia. Now it looks like they’ll be busy massacring their way through the whole of Asia instead.”

“Indeed, mighty Cheesare. The US are definitely not getting involved in anything, ever again though.”


“They have signed a Neutrality Act. No more fighting, no more wars.”


How long does everyone think THIS will last?


“Yes, we are all rather surprised. Then again, with most of Europe under our great Empire, and an absolute clusterfuck about to throw down in Asia, I’m not all that surprised. Seems rather sensible of them in fact.”

“That is why I am suspicious.”

“Yes sire.”

“Keep an eye on them. FDR cannot be trusted, and neither can American promises.”


SIM do not use invisible ink. Instead, they use partially invisible paper!

“Of course, your Imperial Majesty. Oh, we also got word that SIM have caught a French spy. She knows basically nothing, much like French Intelligence in general. But I suppose in principle, we still won.”

“That is good news. Has anyone figured out our response to the German demands that we dismantle the Maginot Line?”


Why would anyone choose to do this?

“The Minions are of two minds. One wishes to just ignore them, the other wishes to say no contemptuously. Are you leaning a certain way, mighty Cheesare?”

“Yes, I think I’ll have the pink bubble bath this morning. Thank you, Alan. Mind the lions, please.”
9th June 1937

“So, we are all agreed then gentlemen?”


Positions at the start of the war

The minions nodded. The war with Yugoslavia would commence at midnight that very evening. The main army of light tanks and veteran infantry were reinforced by the growing third army of more infantry fodder from the new provinces. Meanwhile, the second army of mountaineers and crack infiltrators were ready to mount all kinds of chaos on the small smidgen of land the Empire currently had on the Croatian coastline. The aim was to link the two fronts, and then drive eastwards.

“Any final business?” the Great Leader intoned.


The Fiat BR.20 Cicogna

“The new BR.20 bomber has finished testing. As you all know, modern bombers need to be versatile and fast. This new design is…better than our last attempt. Fiat assures me they are trying their best.” The Head of Applied Airplanes shrugged. “At least, we can build the stuff they’ve sent us. Hundreds of them, if needs be.”

“It’ll have to do,” Augustus Cheeseolini murmured, mightily. “What of your scheme to annex Albania, Major?”


Major Catastrophe, whom had been put in charge of reclaiming Albania for Rome, nodded and stood. “We have begun working on the project, mighty Cheesare. We anticipate it shall take 70 days exactly to bear fruit. Even if we remain at war with Yugoslavia at the time of completion.”

“Is that likely?”

“No sire. The Yugoslavian military is even worse than ours. And we’re fighting them on two fronts. And for some reason, they still think they should garrison their other borders as well. No sire, we shall be fine. Almost guaranteed.”

“Almost, eh? That’s what any Italian wants to hear!” Cheeseolini laughed heartily, and so did they all. “Prepare the men, set the times, and bring our troubled province back to us, gentlemen.”

The initial invasion went fairly well. After three days on the border, the First Legion smashed through and took Rijeka. Now flanked, the enemy army had a much harder time defending their border.

Along the Dalmatian Coast, the progress was better than expected. Within three days, the troops had burst forth from their humble beginnings and taken Split. The whole of the east lay undefended before them, but pressure from the north kept the Second Legion from advancing too far without a fight.


By the 15th, though the border force was very slowly being pushed back, the southern attack was spreading south, along the coastline. By the 20th, all but one port had been captured by the Romans. The attack was going so well that the First Legion ceased pushing east but focused on linking up the two fronts, now separated by a mere one land tile on the map.


In the first week and a half of fighting, 748 Roman patriots had lost their lives. But they had taken over 21 thousand enemy combatants with them.


By the second week, the fronts converged across a very narrow land bridge, that suffered constant attack from enemy men and aircraft. The Imperial Airforce however was more than up to the task of controlling and patrolling the skies.


By the end of June, the entire coastline had been reclaimed, and the Yugoslavians pushed well back. The south of the country was entirely undefended, with the enemy army concentrating on defending the capital and north eastern region. By this time, 1000 Romans were dead, mostly airman, whilst the enemy were fast approaching 50 thousand.

Roman High Command and the Imperial Court were distracted in the first week of July by the incredibly relevant and upsetting news that a random American woman had vanished. And by vanished, the American news invariably meant got lost and crashed somewhere out to sea.


How shall we go on?

Still, tragic.


Anyway, the Second Legion had, during this time of National Mourning, fully cut off the southern reaches of Yugoslavia from the rest, and was slowly penetrating it fully. The Yugoslavians continued to be slaughtered at a rate of 20 thousand a week. Somehow. The Roman Air Force managed to double the number of Italian fatalities by mid-July as well.
14th July 1937

“Disturbing news, your Imperial Majesty!”

“Yes? The Italian Aire force again?”

“No, they’re still dying in droves. But the Yuguslavians have finally decided to try and halt us again.”

“Good lord!”


“Indeed, mighty Cheesare. We’ve come to a very wet and muddy bit. They’ve dug in and we’re struggling to dig them out.”

“Cunning swine. What is to be done?”

“Mostly we just try to shoot them and blow them up. It seems to be working. Very, very slowly.”

“And what of the outer world, my minion?”

“Well, Stalin has decided to make his move-”

“AND YOU DID NOT INFORM ME!” Cheeseolini roared in terror, flinging himself up onto the curtain rail attached to his bath.

“No sire, because he’s decided the best course of action is to kill his own soldiers.”


That non-aggression pact suddenly makes a lot more sense...

The Great Leader stared down at his aide for a moment in suspicion, before descending with grace back into the tub. “I suppose that’s alright then. Why is he doing it?”

“Not really sure sire. The Russians certainly don’t seem to know.”

“Hmm. Keep an eye on it. Anything else?”

“Nothing much. Japan crossed a bridge or something and now China is at war.”


“Ah. Bit of an overreaction, would you say?”

“I suppose it depends how nice the bridge is.”


“I suppose. Does this concern us?”

“Not really. Not unless we were to join a hypothetical faction that was hell-bent on declaring war on everybody, regardless as to whether or not it was a good idea.”

“Mmm. Pass my ducky, please.”

As the duck squeaked and quacked, the Great Leader of Rome pondered the war effort. Yugoslavia was soon to fall, to be sure. This momentary speed-bump none withstanding. He drifted off, and was awoken several days later to find himself alone in rather cold water. All the bubbles had gone.


“Yes, your Imperial Majesty?”

“Have we won yet?”

“Not yet, your Imperial Majesty. Getting closer though.”


“Yes. Very close to Belgrade now. It’s the only city in Yugoslavia that we can name, so we’re pretty sure they’ll fall to pieces without it.”


“Sounds good. Any improvement in the air?”


“In a way, I suppose, since there are less Italian airmen in it. The southern front is nearly rolled up though, and the enemy doesn’t have that many airbases left.”

“Thank Jupiter for that. Wake me back up when we’ve won.”

The aide bowed and left, then swiftly returned.

“Excellent news, your Imperial Majesty.”




“Yeah, we won.”

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On Chapter 1 (Brie-f? Well I be Edam-med)
“Surely, this is nonsense!”
Clearly the motto of the AAR! :D
“I am the Ghost of Julius Cheesare,”
You even manage to screw up an invasion of Greece, which believe me, was mortifying to find out. Alexander was insufferable.
Nicely played.
the spirit of Cheese entered his heart
That sounds like a recipe for blocked arteries.
Mussolini smiled in his sleep. After that, the Eastern Roman Empire needed to be rebuilt.
France and the rest conquered just like that, in less than two years. Presumably Turkey will be next (not having read forward yet). What cheesy setting is the game on, oh maestro Pecker-ino?
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On Chapter 1 (Brie-f? Well I be Edam-med)

Clearly the motto of the AAR! :D


Nicely played.

That sounds like a recipe for blocked arteries.

France and the rest conquered just like that, in less than two years. Presumably Turkey will be next (not having read forward yet). What cheesy setting is the game on, oh maestro Pecker-ino?
Setting is on normal, and historical AI focuses. France was just thrown through a loop having to seriously defend the german border AND the Alps AND the Spanish front. At a certain point, they abandoned the alps when the Spanish invasion looked certain to have them cut off.
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Things seem to be going well enough. Needs more east though.
Another excellent AAR that convinces me that HOI4 is not the game for me. Good work.
Things seem to be going well enough. Needs more east though.
The order was deliberately chosen. Going east first means you have to fight the west anyway, and probably all at once. Much better to get France gone ASAP, leave nothing for the british to do on the continent, and then go after the balkans. The germans would I presume invade eventually, but before then they will fight both the allies and the comintern, so the chances of them actually fighting Italy while we empire build is rather slim.

The balkans are coming into the fold though. Some easily (we have simple auto take over focuses for two of them) whilst Romania and Greece are...a little bit harder.
Another excellent AAR that convinces me that HOI4 is not the game for me. Good work.
HOI4 is, of course, a very serious and period accurate game. According to Paradox.
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The use of rubber ducks makes me want some grog.
Happy to finally see this world in terrifying technicolour. And all going swimmingly for Cheesolini, too. Must have planned his movements very Caerphilly.
Happy to finally see this world in terrifying technicolour. And all going swimmingly for Cheesolini, too. Must have planned his movements very Caerphilly.
The game seems dead set on ignoring Italy if set to historical focuses. Which makes a degree of sense, I guess...
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