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Cyrus_The_Great

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Hello everyone. After several unsuccesful attempts at narratives, I am going to begin to finally write one I am so far pleased with. My first non EU series AAR, it will include the stories of around 9 characters to gain a picture on this war in one of my Victoria games. IT will only be about this war, so dont expect the entire story of my game so far or after the war.
 
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Cyrus_The_Great

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1883
____________________________________


Snow sprinkled lightly as Colonel Von Clam-Gallus paced down the concrete wall of one of many redoubts dotting the Austrian Alps. As he walked by, soldiers turned to salute their colonel, and he occasionally raised his hand back in praise. The Colonel opened the door to the bunker, the warmth enveloping him.

He faced one of his lieutenants, who was sitting around a table with a map of northeast Italy, and asked, “Have we received any telegraphs?”

“Yes sir, Intelligence reports the Italians have mobilized all of their reserves and are marching north.”

“Well then Lieutenant, we may finally have a war.”

“Yes, Vienna wants us on our highest alert,” replied the Lieutenant.

Von Clam-Gallus poured himself a cup of tea, and then sat down in front of the map, fingering at his mustache and observing the miniature soldiers scattered about.

Observing these soldiers, each representing a regiment, he began to realize how outnumbered he was. This will certainly be one hell of a battle he thought, not wishing to reveal any sign of weakness to his companions. The Italians outnumbered the Colonel seven regiments to one, but according to officials from Vienna who had observed Italians fighting recently in the Italo-Egyptian war, they fought like Russians, relying only on numbers. Poor leadership, an undisciplined army and lack of any great skill or experience were all things the officials had attributed to the Italian army.

“We have reinforcements coming our way too, eh?”

“Yes sir,” replied the Lieutentant. “They say we will began mobilization soon and receive another few regiments.”

“Good, good, although I am sure me and you will have to do a good amount of disciplining.”

“That we will” added the still young Lieutenant. “Before I joined the army I thought this whole country was made up of blokes.”

“Ha, most of my civilian affiliations are blokes. Even some of the men sitting in some room in Vienna are blokes, if it had been me sitting in that room there wouldn’t be an Italy.”

The Lieutenant sighed at the prospect, before proceeding to add, “they are like an infection, or those bugs cockroaches. You ignore them when they’re small and that end up coming back at you.”

“Nice ehm…simile, you should have considered poetry” chuckled Von Clam-Gallus, as did the Lieutenant in return.

The Colonel stopped chuckling as he realized the Lieutenant did have a point though, the Italians could actually cause a good deal of damage.
MILANO
________________________________________


In fury Signor Bichignola cried “Questo cibo è mica male per cibo austriaco, ma il zuppo è ripugnanto!*”

“Si, Si, è vero” solemnly agreed the other Italian aristocrats.

“And this was just Antipasti and an appetizer, I dread the rest of the meal” piped in another Italian.

“The Austrians invite us to a political dinner” thought Signor Bichignola, “and they serve an awful soup, no, not even a soup, a stew!” He could tell his fellow nobles were thinking the same thing. So far, this meal had greatly failed to impress. Turning his toad-like head, he observed a waiter pouring what appeared to be Champagne.

As the waiter approached he asked “excuse me, of where is this Champagne from?” The harsh German sounds were displeasing to his tongue, but he had to speak the language, the waiters here failed to understand Italian.

“Ehm, it is from Bavaria.”

The Noble looked towards his friend, Giacomo Trivolzio. Eyes bulging, he had a mortified expression on his face, and began to role his eyes. All of his fellows looked the same way, insulted and horrified.

“Is everything okay, sir?”

After letting out a long and overdramatic sigh, he muttered, “yes, yes, proceed to pour this Champagne. But did you ever consider getting it from a place in France, it is called Champagne?”

“I will make the suggestion, sir.”

Before any of the nobility had time for more repulsive remarks, a short Austrian man with a handlebar mustache got up on the podium.

“Welcome, Gentlemen, I am humbled to be in the presence of the highest nobility of Milano.”

A horrible attempt to lie at the beginning of a speech that would most likely be pitiful, thought Bichignola.

“We greet you here” continued the man, “as a symbol of Austrian friendship with the nobility of the region. This will be the first of many of these meetings, in a hope to strengthen our already strong and sturdy friendship.”

Bichignola was not stupid, the reason they were here was to try to lure him and his fellow aristocrats into staying loyal to Austria in the inevitable war.

“For we make a much better friend than our southern neighbor, Italy.” The man said the word with such disgust, such hatred, that it seemed as if he was insulted by its existence. “For they will show you no respect for having been loyal to us for so many years, and you will be treated as well as a commoner under their rule.”

This was a lie, as Bichignola had recently received a letter stating the prospects of being under Italian rule.

“On a happier note though, let us enjoy the wonderful food and continue to prosper. Cheers!”

The Italian cheered and mocking this last sentence, laughed. The food was very distasteful, such bad tastes these Austrians had. All the food was them attempting to make good Italian food. The Alfredo sauce was far too thick, it felt like clay going down your throat. The Brigiolli was smothered in an awful Tomato sauce. And concluding the dinner was Biscotti, so hard that the Italian had to let it sit and absorb espesso for at least 15 minutes before he could consider eating it.

A thought soon relieved his mind however, that soon he would be under Italian rule.


*TRANSLATION*This food is not bad for Austrian food but this soup is disgusting!
 
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likk9922

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Ditto. Well written. I look forward to the next chapter. :D
 

LeonTrotsky

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Great start! Interesting to see a narrative set later on in the game, I'm a big fa of the period. You've done well writing the sense of foreboding of the coming conflict. Needless to sy I'll be reading :)
 

TreizeV

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Huzzah, historical narrative is one of my favourite forms, so i shall be keeping track of this one in my spare time visits to this forum ;) The italians outnumbering the austrians, thats quite refreshing for a change :eek:
 

stnylan

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Interesting start. Very nice details about the food.
 

Cyrus_The_Great

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I am currently adding some final touches to the next update (out hopefuly tonight or tommorow), containing another 3 of the characters. You seem to all enjoy the Italian Bichignola, so I will try to include a good amount with him. I really do appreciate the comments, and also criticisms if I am failing to do something well or can do something better.

Deutschu: Thankyou, I wasn't sure how people would take to it but I will definitely try to keep his perspective rather comical. I am an Italian myself so I see no fault in it :)

Likk9922: Thankyou and I'm glad you will be following

Leontrotsky: Thanks very much, I will try to convey that foreboding mood even more in the next two (the next, next one in particular).

Ksim3000: Thankyou and I am glad to have you on board.

TreizeV: You will find the state of the Italian empire quite different than what historically occured. I am glad you appreciate the genre. Nice to have you following!

Stnylan: Thankyou, I am glad you have given some insight on those smaller details, in the next update one of them has quite a few, so if anyone or you don't take to them, let me know.

ComradeOm: Thankyou, I am glad you have thought that scene a success. Although I guess I didn't properly address it, the Dual Monarchy is in existance, (ever since a crushing defeat by Prussia). Calling it the Austro-Hungo-Italo war would have confused things too much.
 

unmerged(37096)

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I definately agree with the other posters we need more updates involving food, er uh... I mean more updates involving Signor Bichignola
 

Cyrus_The_Great

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Constantinople

_____________________________​
Admiral Muhittin attempted to conceal a smile as he walked up the gang plank onto his ship The Avnillah. How could he help smiling? Cheers of hundreds of citizens emanated behind him as he boarded the most modern ship in the Ottoman Navy, and it was his ship. But finally, he thought, the time to honor his country and Allah was here. Islam and the Empire would not and could not die out in this time of modernity.

After absorbing the cheers of the crowd for a few minutes, he turned to his chief engineer, telling him to begin the steam engines to depart. Him and his fleet would be ready and in position at the outbreak of the war. As the steam began to rise, he turned and headed into his quarters.

He scanned his orders again, although he had already read and memorized them. He was to clear out the Suez Canal of the Italian infidels. The idea that they now controlled Egypt, a Muslim land, petrified him. He would be able to assist in the changing of that, however.

After reading several passages from the Qur’an, he rose to the main deck where he observed the grand spectacle of Constantinople.

He truly felt a sense of glory seeing hundreds of vessels chugging along the sea, with the Hagia Sophia looming up on the skyline. How could anyone resist a power such as this? It was during a moment like that when he felt he could tackle the royal navy. One of his favorite officers, Yusaf Sinan, approached him and revealed similar thoughts when he said “the Italians are going to be absolutely thrashed.”

“That is just what I was thinking, my friend.”

“I will not rest until that plight is eliminated from Misir*.”
Egypt had been owned by the Italians a good decade or two, and from what Muhittin had read the Arabs there were being unrightfully and cruelly oppressed.

“We should have never allowed those Christians to lay a foot on that land, we should have crushed them before they even got there” exclaimed the Admiral.

“I would have to agree. It is a disgrace, an absolute disgrace.”

“They did actually deploy us though, I was stationed in the red sea. Oh I was so anxious to fight, but the Sultan never gave the command to fight. I’m telling you, it would be a different world today had he just allowed us that war. Now I would like to talk longer, my friend” added the Admiral, glancing at his watch, “but I have some matters to attend to.”

“Understood, sir” saluted the officer.

It was this versatility between talking as an old family friend and as a sailor of inferior rank that made Muhittin admire him so much.

Over the next few days as they neared the Canal, Muhittin drilled his crew rigorously. Calling his crew to battle stations at odd hours in the morning, and when the circumstances allowed, drilling the gun crews, he felt confident.

He received a letter from the past evening as he was approaching the Suez that, despite international law, the Italians were warning against any Austrian or Ottoman ships entering the Canal, saying it was an intrusion into the Italian Empire. "Damn them" he muttered, infuriated by the letter, although soon relieved reading, “But the Sultan has agreed with the Monarchy of Austria-Hungary that you are to proceed through, and fire if fired upon.”

Had Muhittin not been a high ranking officer in the Navy, he would have screamed with joy. Instead he just smiled, ordered the crew to redirect the ship to a more direct course, and leading the fleet, war in her grasp, the Avnillah sped towards the canal.

Egypt

_____________________________________​
The prison train began to speed southward as its pistons sprung into action. Shackled at his legs and hands, Kareem sat seemingly helpless, staring out the tiny barred window at the setting sun. The man he had been subjected to share a cell with was trembling and soon burst out into tears.

“Your crying only strengthens them, you know” stated Kareem, still staring out the window.

The man looked up, a confused expression on his face. “You don’t seem to understand, we are going to die! By this time tomorrow we will hang, picked on by the vultures!” At this he began to cry even more.

“If that does come around, you will be within the warm embrace of Allah” began Kareem, “but if I can do anything about that we will be out of here by tonight. What are you here for?”

The man appeared interested, then explained, “only a robbery, my family has been very poor. Ever since the Italians moved in they robbed me of my land to build a bastion of cement. I began robbing what we needed from the bastard I began to work for. They caught me, and I was locked up a few weeks before being sent here. I am ruined” he exclaimed as he once again burst out into tears.

“Be you a man? Stop crying, it insults our dignity. I have been on this train 3 times before.”

The confused man seemed annoyed, saying “you lie, I am no imbecile. This takes you to be killed. There is no return from here!”

“Exactly”, reposted Kareem, after looking around to make sure no guards were watching. “I have a lock pick in my hair. When I bend down behind you feel for it and take it out. Then give it to me.”

The prisoner looked up, a glimmer of hope in his eye. “But what if?”

“Do you ever want to see your family again? Or do you want to remain on the path that only leads to death?”

After a pause he responded, “Ok ok, bend down, ill do it.”

With the pick in the hands of Kareem, he was quickly and silently able to unshackle both of them, but he warned they must keep them on unlocked, as not to make it noticeable. He began to mutter the plan to his cellmate, who now seemed rather enthusiastic about the affair.

Their hearts beat quickly as the guard walked by, and Kareem slowly got up. As the guard turned to feed the man in the cot across from the two, Kareem sprung into action wrapping his handcuffs around the mans neck and pulling towards the cell. The prisoner, doing as instructed, grabbed the mans gun and then wrist, which the key ring was attached to. Fumbling through, he found the number of their own cell, and unlocked it as the guard let out his last attempt at breath.

Kareem picked up the gun and the two men bolted towards the door.

“Due hanno scapare” screamed another guard, who Kareem quickly lodged two bullets into.

Kareem slammed the door open and jumped out, a shot echoing in his ear. He rolled on the ground as he noted his fellow fell out less gracefully. A few shots were fired from the train, but it continued on, until out of sight. I guess the conductor wasn’t aware, afterall we were close to the back, thought the fugitive as he walked to his comrade.

“You did well, for your fir”, Kareem stopped short. He had noticed the two neat red spots slowly expanding on the mans white tunic. Kareem said a little prayer, thinking its better just one of us departed, rather than both.

At that, he set off north, keeping a reasonable distance from the tracks, ready to return to his old ways of life.

Beirut

_____________________​
The squat Arab began to pour the wine into Massimo’s cup slowly and deliberately, allowing it to hit the side of the glass and slide down. “This is one of my personal favorites, the Marquis Des Beys,” explained the seller, “It is grown at a Vineyard known as Domaine Des Tourelles.” After pouring just a very small bit, he stood back, and placing his hands behind his back, watched Signor Massimo.

First the Italian merchant observed it carefully. The color was satisfactory he thought, better then most he had ever purchased from the area. He leaned it over the white table clothe, and nodding in approval added “aged in oak, correct?”

“Yes sir, it is.”

The Connoisseur nodded and then began to swirl the cup, observing the legs, which took a long enough time to recede. He carried on by sniffing the wine. It had a pleasant Bouquet, the aroma was very fruity and integrated surprisingly well. He took the first sip, swirling it in his mouth. From what he could tell so far it was actually a very good wine, although he dared not allow his face to show it. After the second sip he nodded his head, careful not to show too much satisfaction for fear of a price raise.

“Well sir, I think we have a deal. I will take the 10 crates.”

“Excellent, excellent Signore” exclaimed the Arab as he rushed forward to shake his client’s hand. “I hope we can do some business in the future.”

“Oh I am sure I will be back, thank you. Have it loaded onto my boat by sunrise.”

The Next Day

On board La Venta Seconda, Massimo began to unscrew a bottle of wine for his officers. Captain of one of the Mediterranean’s larger clippers, he was renown in Napoli and Roma for his excellent wine, olive and date imports from the eastern Mediterranean. As the last traces of Lebanon disappeared along with the sun, he began to serve the wine along with the fish that the upper class of his ship were privileged to enjoy.
“To a safe return” cheered Massimo.
“And to the money that comes with it!”

Soon they were all immersed with playing dice and drinking the fine wines that were found in great abundance on board the ship. After much drinking Massimo erupted into song, singing La Marcia Reale. He was soon falling asleep as he slurred the last words “Vival’italia. Viva Il re! Vivail re!”

None of the officers or crew had taken any notice of the light that was silently and slowly following the clipper.

*Egypt
 

Cyrus_The_Great

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Hope you enjoy these updates, the war starts on the next one.
And okay, I will definitely try to include many updates with Signore Bichignola. Maybe the next one, but remember I have a few more characters to introduce as well.
 

stnylan

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Some wide ranging elements here.
 

TreizeV

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Interesting how when enemies plot against the Italians from all sides, they seemed more concerned about the quality of their wines and meals ;) hopefully being a dominant power in the region hasn't led to complaceancy.

Its great to see more bits of your game world revealed, so Italy has gotten the dream of reclaiming egypt as part of the empire, I can only wonder how the brits will be involved in this, as the mediteranean historically was their sphere of influence too.
 

Cyrus_The_Great

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Stnylan: Yes, the war has several fronts all over the eastern mediterranean and northeast Italy, so there will be many ranged perspectives.

TreizeV: Yes, food and drink are held very high in Italian society :) In the game the Brits actually don't get involved in this war, but I don't see why I couldn't have a British Ambassador as a character.

Anyways, there will hopefully be an update tonight, although it may be small.
 

Cyrus_The_Great

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Milano

_____________________________​

“Master Bichignola, I have urgent news that may displease you. Shall I continue?”

Eating a leg of chicken, Signore Bichignola waved his hand up and down, signaling for the servant to proceed.

“Austria-Hungary has just declared war on Italy. The Turks are expected to join the war soon against Italy as well. The Italians are beginning an offensive on us, and our homeland Milano is expected to become a most dire battlefield.”

Signore Bichignola paused, frozen momentarily. When he spoke, he spoke with a fear that the servant had seldom heard his master possess. “Could this mean that”, he gulped, “dinner with Signore Bergoni might be cancelled?”

The servant had expected to be answering some question about the war, or about what his role would be, but not about dinner. He had researched on as much as he could, and he had forgotten dinner. He sighed, “I will look into it.”

4 Hours Later

Signore Bichignola stood up at the sight of his fellow entering the restaurant. “Hello my friend! It has been too long.”

Signore Bergoni grinned. “That it has, that it has my friend. It is good to get together in times like these. But I apologize, have you been waiting?”

“Oh no, not at all. I always arrive early to dinner, wouldn’t want to miss anything.”

“Ha”, responded Bergoni, “I like the way you think.”

Bichignola was in good spirits, as he did not even have the stress of ordering or pairing wines with his food, it was one of those special dinners, with a set menu. After some talk about wines and the latest fashions, Bichignola noticed out of the corner of his eye the waiter. He was possibly the ugliest man Bichignola had ever seen. A flat nose and incredibly bloated cheeks, he looked absolutely hideous. A large blemish on his cheek combined with his messy hair only added to this, and Bichignola began hoping this ugly man would not be his waiter.

After a brief disappearance to the kitchen, Bichignola’s horror was renewed, as the plump waiter began carrying dishes towards him. He glanced back, then stared towards the wall, trembling and sweating, repeatedly casting hurried glances back towards the man, hoping he would turn away, until one of his glances cast his face straight into the man’s stomach. The man stepped back, letting out a smile which revealed his lack of teeth, and said “please sir, I apologize.”

Bichignola shielded his face in horror at the man with his ugly face, trying to shield off the sight and the spit that came out of the man’s mouth with every P sound. “Here Is your tuna carpaccio, paired with a pickly pea salad and a gaglioppo.”

Bichignola was not sure which horrified him more, the fact that the man’s spit had penetrated into his face or the fact that the tuna was paired with a red. Bergonni, who was fortunate enough not to be right next to this ugly being, shot his friend puzzled looks. Then the angered aristocrat stood up and turned to the man who had cast him into such horror, and shot out “why is my tuna with a red wine?”

“Sir I believe the war…”

“WHY!!!”

“An embargo sir…”

“Well get me some!” At that, Bichignola began pushing the waiter around, and soon the rather large aristocrat began smashing the stunned waiter into the wall.

“Sir, what are you doing. Help, someone! Signore!" Bichignola began punching and hitting this ugly waiter. The waiter screamed for help, yelling “Stop it, stop it!” He paused, then desperately shrieked “This is madness! This is blasphemy!”

“THIS, IS, TUNA!!!”

At that, Bichignola chucked the tuna in the man’s face, and then ran, trying to escape any other ugly waiters. He ran outside, and spotted his carriage. He hopped inside screaming, “ALLA CASA, ALLA CASA! ANDIAMO, ANDIAMO!”

“What is wrong sir?”

“Just go! I will have to eat dinner at home tonight!”

Coast off of Tirane

___________________________________​
Private Volterra’s head bobbed up and down along with the other 40 men packed onto the landing craft. He could scarcely make out the brief flashes of artillery in the distance, coming from Tirane. The Sergeant on board was attempting to give a motivational speech, shouting, “this will be the largest landing in the history of Italy. We will strike like a knife deep into the Turkish holdings in the Balkans, and we will push to Constantinople!”

At this, everyone let out a cheer, and soon enough everyone was ducking within the small craft as gatling gun fire began to rain down on the soldiers. Gianni Volterra was ducking up against the ship's side as much as he could, which he soon regretted.

Soldiers screamed as a large artillery shell crashed down near the opposite side of the ship, tipping it and dunking Volterra into the water head first.

He opened his eyes in the murky water, and realized he was completely disoriented. The private, gasping for breath, began swimming towards the way he thought was up, and after hitting the bottom quickly went the opposite direction. His head poked up and he saw several bodies were floating around him. I will end up like them if he didn’t move.

He looked east, and about 50 yards away he saw men swarming onto the shore, and the private began to swim towards it.

Once he could stand he charged forward, and not far on up the beach he leapt into a foxhole after realizing his gun would not work.

He looked around, and noticing a dead man in the sand picked up his more unfortunate companion’s rifle, and then sped forward. A soldier shouted “give me some covering fire while I cut this barbed wire!”

Bullets landing all around him, Volterra squatted down and began firing. He nailed one Turk in the arm and another in the chest before the wire was cut.
“ANDARE DIRITTO, ANDARE DIRITTO” screamed someone as he obeyed, rushing through. He charged up the hill, the man who had just cut the wire falling behind him. Once again hindered by a line of barbed wire, a sapper began quickly cutting it as a Turk charged forward, firing wildly. Volterra took aim and hit the man in the neck, killing the man instantly.

Although the time was dragging on forever, the wire was adventually broken and they reached one of the cement fortifications along the beach. He was to the side of an opening in the bunker, and could see a gattling gun poking its head out, killing his fellow Italians.

He crept up and stabbed the gunner with his bayonette, and savage and primordial feeling rushing through him. He blindly fired another shot inside, and then heard silence. Another less fortunate Italian, thinking the threat was eliminated, peeped his head to look into the bunker, which was quickly shot off.
Volterra then noticed one of those improvised grenades he had heard of laying on the soldier’s body. He picked it up, and it was soon lit by another soldier before being chucked inside. After the explosion, he poked his head in. All 8 were dead.

Some of the Italians cheered and they hoisted themselves inside. They were just one step closer to victory, thought Volterra.
 

stnylan

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So, an attempt to wrong-foot the Austrians. Unless the Austrians manage to pull off a Battle of Lissa perhaps?
 

TreizeV

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“This is madness! This is blasphemy!”

“THIS, IS, TUNA!!!”

Like i said, some italians really love their food :rofl:

It is very interesting that the Ottomans are siding with their traditional enemies the Austrians on this, of course given that italy is in egypt they would be a bigger threat. I wonder though, what is the state of Russia in your game? Because they have their eyes on constantinople as well.
 

Cyrus_The_Great

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I am terribly sorry to everyone following this, but some problems with my computer have led to the deletion of my typed up log of events and battles throughout this game, so I won't be able to update this AAR any more. Another failure for me :p

For all those who followed this I am sorry, I may try another one. I am really quite frustrated this did not work out, as I was enjoying the writing of this.