NES2 V - The Great Game.
- Thread starter das
- Start date
- Status
Grandmaster
Deity
And Hungary just realized that it *may* have unintentionally joined the opposite side of what it had meant to. Damnit.
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
I am inclined to agree.
Conehead, let's not have being enemies in one NES spoil our alliance in this one.
Hungary and Italy are cooperating in something...*cough*Ottomans*cough* so I assume that Hungary is on the French side.
Conehead, let's not have being enemies in one NES spoil our alliance in this one.
Hungary and Italy are cooperating in something...*cough*Ottomans*cough* so I assume that Hungary is on the French side.
Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
Grandmaster said:
Blame Poland!
Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
andis-1 said:
Unlike the big nations, who carefully consider all their options, then proceed to do exactly the same thing...
Grandmaster
Deity
Andis, ol' buddy, please do acknowledge my hellos on AIM. We've got urgent business to discuss, and I've apologies to make.
EDIT: My SN is Leven9999.
EDIT2: I feel dumb, for exactly the second time in my NESing stint. This should be an interesting one.
EDIT: My SN is Leven9999.
EDIT2: I feel dumb, for exactly the second time in my NESing stint. This should be an interesting one.
Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
OOC: Hey I wanted to be on the same side as you Kal in the Ottoman thing, but you dropped the ball, and your Qing lackey is being all hostile like.
I dropped the ball because i kinda realised that "oh the Fk is strong, lets think best way to take them out is: if they don't know it!"
Thus i was trying to get you guys to be a distraction in Middle East and engage the FK, but I couldn't tell you this (Reply: Like hell i'm being your bait!)
and thus it fell through.
Thus i was trying to get you guys to be a distraction in Middle East and engage the FK, but I couldn't tell you this (Reply: Like hell i'm being your bait!)
and thus it fell through.
Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
Kal'thzar said:
OOC:
Get back to me on how that brillent piece of insight works out for you
I could have been your bait, you really should have made me an offer and I might have considered it...
But the lines are drawn now.
Disenfrancised
Beep Beep
I never said that, but we've given our word to the FK, and we are going to keep it. If the update turns out that way of course
Curse you master of suspence!
das said:
Curse you master of suspence!
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
Fallujah, Al-Anbar Province, January 1, 1866
Ten men sat on a mat, inside a tent. They gazed nervously at the sunset, blood red. Almost as if it anticipated their demise. All had heard, from their aides, of the Federate declaration of war. This was the last unified council of the Supreme Persian Military Command, before each man and his staff would proceed to their individual theatres. The youngest of them was eighteen, a genius fresh out of CDMA. (Cyrus and Darius Military Academy)
Among them were General Suleiman, and General Jeshua, both famous heroes of the Persian Revolution and the Great Central Asian War.
After today, each of them would be on their own.
Three soldiers strode into the tent, in full military regalia. They were all tall men, with dark blue coats, hats, and black boots. Three equally pristine swords, slightly curved in the Persian style, but not scimitars, were buckled behind their waists.
The one on the left was massive, nearing seven feet tall. His fearsome countenance included gray eyes, long shaggy hair, a broken nose, (reset a bit crookedly) and three long, white scars, most likely from Turkmen daggers. This man was General Malik. Half Turkmeni himself, he was fiercely loyal to the Shah, and had educated cadets in warfare for many years, before being reelevated to service. He was the one that liberated Azerbaijan, Armenia, and Mosul
The one walking in on the right, all the young generals knew. The man had bellowed orders to them as privates in the Royal Army of Persia before Shah Nasser's demise, and was one of the first to lead his contingent into rebellion. His portrait hung in many houses, and several Turkish generals, their corpses now honorably (if ignominiously) buried outside of Baghdad, probably regretted that they had ever heard his name. This was the Shah's Right Arm, the Supreme Commander of the Persian Army. General Osman Mustafa. His divisions captured Karamurad himself, (twice,) and took Baghdad.
Striding calmly and purposfully toward the assembled generals was a thin man, with long black hair, bound behind his head. He had a very bird-like countenance, with a long, noble nose, and eyes that were at once both blue and colorless. He carried two weapons, his sword and a long, thin pistol, with a falcon etched into the side. As he raised his hand in greeting, the assembled men stood, and bowed deeply. Saluting in unison, the men cried out.
"Hail Ardashir!"
For the man was Shah Ardashir IV, Shah and King of Persia, first monarch in the restored Safavid Dynasty. Whether his empire surged forward to victory or collapsed in unthinkable disaster, he would never be forgotten by posterity.
The generals and the Shah, sat, and they began.
"Welcome gentlemen. Not more than fifty miles from us, the battle lines stand. You all know that the Federate Kingdoms declared war on us, and most likely plan an invasion into Persia proper."
Mustafa spoke first.
"My liege, we have accounted for this. Many divisions at present stand at the Indian border, and the Engineering Corps even now makes admirable progress building the fortifications."
"Good. Jeshua, what else are we doing?"
"Sire, we have the advantage of fighting on the side of the Federates before. As such we have key knowledge of their tactics. It is likely that General Frederick van Derhuyt, the Supreme Commander of the Army of the Federate Kingdoms in India, will be facing our forces. We have fought on the side of this man in the past, and we know his tactics."
Suleiman now spoke.
"In addition, we have instructed the troops to take especial caution against the Federate unit we all know of. Thanks to having fought with the Federates in the past, we have the ability to guard against that...horrible force."
"Indeed. Let us hope that they don't infiltrate too far. Mustafa, I am taking personal command of the First and Second Armies. I know that you may resent this, but I have very different plans for you. I will discuss this personally with you after our meeting."
Mustafa looked surprised, then grim, but he simply nodded his head.
"Jeshua, what has Allashir Kemal said in response to our offer? It was quite generous, even considering his skill and loyalty."
"He refused."
"A shame, he would have made an excellent Sultan of Turkey. We will have to find someone else...perhaps the Islamists can put forward a candidate?"
"They hate us sire, and wish that we were all rotting in hell."
"That is true," Ardashir said, "but I'm going to gamble that they hate the Sultan even more."
As the conversation stretched into the night, each general was given detailed campaign orders. Despite this, each man would have to act on his own personal initiative. Lastly, the Shah reached General Malik.
"Malik, you're task is already known to you. Take the...army we have assigned to you, and..."
"Army? You call two bloody divisions an army? Respectfully Ardashir, I am not a brigade commander! And it is an insult to my pride that you entrust me with such a little..."army," or so you call it."
The Shah's face showed little expression, except the hint of a smile.
"Malik, you realize how important your task is, so don't bluster and protest with me. The Wahhabites have been fractured and defeated, and their troops need competent leadership and reinforcements. Go to Arabia, and if you are successful..."
"You mean, if I kill everyone who opposes me," Malik interrupted.
"Yes, if you are successful, you may end up having a larger force of Arabs than even Mohammed himself."
"Well, I suppose that an official proclamation of jihad wouldn't hurt..."
"Our agents delivered it from Mecca last night. Here you are."
Grasping the long, ornate scroll in his battle-scarred hands, Malik chuckled. But then he frowned, looking at the Arabic script with a puzzled expression.
"You all know I can't read, and there's a damn lot of words here. What does this say?"
Mustafa started to laugh while he looked at the scroll.
"The only four that you need to know are, "Kill the Turks, dammit!""
As the assembly dissolved into laughter, Malik got to his feet, and saluted Ardashir.
"My Shah and Master, I go to Arabia, at your bidding. Know this, I will serve you till my death!"
Malik exited the tent to a cheer from the generals. Walking out across the desert to his camp, the grizzled veteran stared at the rising moon, hanging high over Arabia where he soon would be.
"With only two divisions," he grumbled, "it'll probably be soon."
Ten men sat on a mat, inside a tent. They gazed nervously at the sunset, blood red. Almost as if it anticipated their demise. All had heard, from their aides, of the Federate declaration of war. This was the last unified council of the Supreme Persian Military Command, before each man and his staff would proceed to their individual theatres. The youngest of them was eighteen, a genius fresh out of CDMA. (Cyrus and Darius Military Academy)
Among them were General Suleiman, and General Jeshua, both famous heroes of the Persian Revolution and the Great Central Asian War.
After today, each of them would be on their own.
Three soldiers strode into the tent, in full military regalia. They were all tall men, with dark blue coats, hats, and black boots. Three equally pristine swords, slightly curved in the Persian style, but not scimitars, were buckled behind their waists.
The one on the left was massive, nearing seven feet tall. His fearsome countenance included gray eyes, long shaggy hair, a broken nose, (reset a bit crookedly) and three long, white scars, most likely from Turkmen daggers. This man was General Malik. Half Turkmeni himself, he was fiercely loyal to the Shah, and had educated cadets in warfare for many years, before being reelevated to service. He was the one that liberated Azerbaijan, Armenia, and Mosul
The one walking in on the right, all the young generals knew. The man had bellowed orders to them as privates in the Royal Army of Persia before Shah Nasser's demise, and was one of the first to lead his contingent into rebellion. His portrait hung in many houses, and several Turkish generals, their corpses now honorably (if ignominiously) buried outside of Baghdad, probably regretted that they had ever heard his name. This was the Shah's Right Arm, the Supreme Commander of the Persian Army. General Osman Mustafa. His divisions captured Karamurad himself, (twice,) and took Baghdad.
Striding calmly and purposfully toward the assembled generals was a thin man, with long black hair, bound behind his head. He had a very bird-like countenance, with a long, noble nose, and eyes that were at once both blue and colorless. He carried two weapons, his sword and a long, thin pistol, with a falcon etched into the side. As he raised his hand in greeting, the assembled men stood, and bowed deeply. Saluting in unison, the men cried out.
"Hail Ardashir!"
For the man was Shah Ardashir IV, Shah and King of Persia, first monarch in the restored Safavid Dynasty. Whether his empire surged forward to victory or collapsed in unthinkable disaster, he would never be forgotten by posterity.
The generals and the Shah, sat, and they began.
"Welcome gentlemen. Not more than fifty miles from us, the battle lines stand. You all know that the Federate Kingdoms declared war on us, and most likely plan an invasion into Persia proper."
Mustafa spoke first.
"My liege, we have accounted for this. Many divisions at present stand at the Indian border, and the Engineering Corps even now makes admirable progress building the fortifications."
"Good. Jeshua, what else are we doing?"
"Sire, we have the advantage of fighting on the side of the Federates before. As such we have key knowledge of their tactics. It is likely that General Frederick van Derhuyt, the Supreme Commander of the Army of the Federate Kingdoms in India, will be facing our forces. We have fought on the side of this man in the past, and we know his tactics."
Suleiman now spoke.
"In addition, we have instructed the troops to take especial caution against the Federate unit we all know of. Thanks to having fought with the Federates in the past, we have the ability to guard against that...horrible force."
"Indeed. Let us hope that they don't infiltrate too far. Mustafa, I am taking personal command of the First and Second Armies. I know that you may resent this, but I have very different plans for you. I will discuss this personally with you after our meeting."
Mustafa looked surprised, then grim, but he simply nodded his head.
"Jeshua, what has Allashir Kemal said in response to our offer? It was quite generous, even considering his skill and loyalty."
"He refused."
"A shame, he would have made an excellent Sultan of Turkey. We will have to find someone else...perhaps the Islamists can put forward a candidate?"
"They hate us sire, and wish that we were all rotting in hell."
"That is true," Ardashir said, "but I'm going to gamble that they hate the Sultan even more."
As the conversation stretched into the night, each general was given detailed campaign orders. Despite this, each man would have to act on his own personal initiative. Lastly, the Shah reached General Malik.
"Malik, you're task is already known to you. Take the...army we have assigned to you, and..."
"Army? You call two bloody divisions an army? Respectfully Ardashir, I am not a brigade commander! And it is an insult to my pride that you entrust me with such a little..."army," or so you call it."
The Shah's face showed little expression, except the hint of a smile.
"Malik, you realize how important your task is, so don't bluster and protest with me. The Wahhabites have been fractured and defeated, and their troops need competent leadership and reinforcements. Go to Arabia, and if you are successful..."
"You mean, if I kill everyone who opposes me," Malik interrupted.
"Yes, if you are successful, you may end up having a larger force of Arabs than even Mohammed himself."
"Well, I suppose that an official proclamation of jihad wouldn't hurt..."
"Our agents delivered it from Mecca last night. Here you are."
Grasping the long, ornate scroll in his battle-scarred hands, Malik chuckled. But then he frowned, looking at the Arabic script with a puzzled expression.
"You all know I can't read, and there's a damn lot of words here. What does this say?"
Mustafa started to laugh while he looked at the scroll.
"The only four that you need to know are, "Kill the Turks, dammit!""
As the assembly dissolved into laughter, Malik got to his feet, and saluted Ardashir.
"My Shah and Master, I go to Arabia, at your bidding. Know this, I will serve you till my death!"
Malik exited the tent to a cheer from the generals. Walking out across the desert to his camp, the grizzled veteran stared at the rising moon, hanging high over Arabia where he soon would be.
"With only two divisions," he grumbled, "it'll probably be soon."
blackheart
unenlightened
Seven pages of gibberish and no update 
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
7 pages of gibberish, and one good story. Maybe two.
Maybe two.- Status
Similar threads
- Sticky
