NES2 V - The Great Game.

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silver 2039 said:
If your write **** orderes than of course it does'nt take long. But if you actually try to right quality orders it takes a while. Hell I'm writing mine from school. So shut the hell up.

Boohoo. Then why not write them a day earlier? Or, if you have the option then write them at home and then send them when you arrive at the school. I don't know how your options for writing are, but I don't think it's any excuse.
Also, I haven't seen your orders and you haven't seen mine so I don't really think you are in a position to comment on it. Also, nobody has singled you out. It is a general dissatisfaction with the fact that so many are late when they know it's the same time and day every week.

Enough of this. The update comes when it comes.
 
His Majesty Király Lajos III, King of Hungary. Born Louis-Philippe Henri Joseph de Bourbon, Comte de Chartres. Son of Henri-Gaston, Duc d'Orleans. Married to Zsofia Andrassy, Countess of Krasznahorka. Educated at Ecole Speciale Militaire de Saint-Cyr. Fluent in French and Spanish, with passable German and classical Latin; learning Magyar from the Mayor of the Palace.

lajos_iii.png


OOC: Sorry, haven't got time for a more detailed description right now.
 
Dissonant noise permeated the hall as divisional administrators and their deputies chatted amongst one another. It was an unprecedented meeting called by the King himself which summoned them to Bangkok. Over the last year, the administrators had a tough time, although they were given almost all of the tax earnings, raising a division of trained men was a very hard job and many disliked the concept. That, and the plans for next year (plus the usual politicking) was on every man's lips as they awaited the arrival of King Chulalongkorn, fifth King of the Chakri Dynasty. Of course, no one referred to the King as Chulalongkorn, he was Rama V and that was how he would be addressed.

"Phra Ram Ti Ha!" the footman at the door announced in a voice loud enough to drown all conversation in the room. The administrators stood up as a sign of respect to the figure walking up the red carpet towards the large chair at the other end of the hall. Not his gold throne, but far more comfortable. It was made from the best Malay jati wood and lined with fine leather imported from the Federated Kingdoms. The King sat down and the footman announced the ritual "His Majesty now allows you to sit."

"Loyal divisional administrators," he began, "I have summoned you to my palace to discuss the things which are happening across the glorious Kingdom of Siam. First of all, let me congratulate all of you on a job well done. I knew the job of raising additional troops will be difficult, yet all of you suceeded. I hear the people are unhappy, but tell them that our nation will remain stronger in the event of any strife. Each division has its own personal defence force, and that is something which the people will see in time. I want you to help them see it faster, tell them what I've said and tell them not to lose confidence in me, for I can tell this is important in uniting the people." The administrators nodded to the wisdom of the King, it wouldn't do to do otherwise - although in this case, there was no reason to think otherwise. Indeed, they were surprised the King himself would congratulate the men in the hall personally. Usually, he would've just sent out a letter signed and sealed.

"Now, we have to develop the nation and bring it to further glory. You already know the plans underway, but I want to hear from you the situation in your divisions. You are responsible for the running of the divisions but if there is anything which needs to be known by the nation as a whole, and something which could advance the cause of Siam, do bring it forward - for you represent your division, and act as my eyes and ears."

And thus, for the next two days, discussions were conducted and the King came out far wiser of the happenings in his kingdom, and ready to work them out.
 
Captain Sanjay Bhumibol looked at his small company of 100 men as they went through the musket firing practice that they had been doing for the last three hours. The Assam Provincial Regiment had done a dismal job and Captain Bhumibol wasn't trying to hide his disappointment. As the last volley was fired, his XO, Leftenant Thakburi Sudaporn glanced at his watch and cried out, "five minutes and twenty eight seconds."

"Dismal, people. Absolutely dismal," Captain Bhumibol gave them an icy stare but spoke with passion in his voice, "the regular divisions can do three volleys in three minutes, sometimes even four. What you are doing is totally pathetic. If the Qings decide to invade, you're in pretty much hot water. Do you want them to kill your family, rape your daughters and dig up your ancestors from the grave?"

"No sir!" the fear began permeating the group as they realised their Captain was pissed off - big time.

"Let me show you how to shoot a damned musket. Sudaporn!" The leftenant passed him a loaded Brown Bess musket - a souvenier from the war in Annam, it was a gift from a friend he made from the Federated Kingdoms. While it was much older than the muskets used by the other troops, it was much more accurate and fired faster than the Bangkok Armoury muskets. Captain Bhumibol slowly took aim at the straw figure 30 yards downrange and called out, "Start timing the moment I fire my gun." And he pulled the trigger.

Going through the familiar motions of ripping the paper cartridge, pouring the powder in, spitting the ball after and ramming the wad of cotton. Then, came the priming powder, locking the cock, taking aim and firing. Rinse, wash, repeat. The company stared in fascination as their Captain repeated the process three times. As his fourth shot left the barrel to thud into the unfortunate straw dummy downrange, Leftenant Sudaporn announced, "three minutes and two seconds." Captain Bhumibol looked at his troops and merely said before leaving them to their practice, "That is how it is done."

As the two officers walked out of sight, their stony faces turned into grins. "Just like the old days, eh sir?" Leftenant Sudaporn asked. "Indeed. Four shots in three minutes should impress them enough to work harder. None of them were doing their best before that. Hopefully, that little demonstration would make them pull their socks up."

"Yes sir. I bet none of them noticed you gained an extra shot by firing your first shot before the timer started."

The two men laughed as they walked back to their camp.
 
Regarding the orders, methinks it could easily be done before deadline and whatnot, unless you happen to be cut off from the rest of the world over the weekend or something...

But yeah, I'm cool with the switch in deadline - won't make any difference to me after all.. Haha
 
I have a fever and I am very mad right now. All of you who plotted against me better pray it goes wrong this update, because otherwise I will be very pissed and will revert to my style diplomacy that some of you know from Goober's NES.
 
I don't usually send orders that long, but this turn it's necessary, imo.

I have this creepy feeling you're gonna attack me. I have more than just paranoia going here Thlayli. It's now an all permeating phobia.

And Stormy, what diplo style is that? Evil?
 
I have to quit. Not enough time
 
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