RB PBEM #1 - Public Players Thread

[Ruff_Hi]

I'm set to play on - this game has tons more fun in it and we haven't determined a winner yet.

[mostly_harmless]

I am fine to continue as well.

mh

[athlete4life10]

accidentally clicked submit twice so you might get 2 emails MH.

[mostly_harmless]

No, I was fine. Turn played and passed on.

mh

[mostly_harmless]

Countless names he was called, many forgotten over the ages.
As long as men can remember the Great River has ruled the life of those living in the west. No other river in the world comes close to rival him for strength, length and ferocity.
Springing from the glaciers of the Silver Mountains he punches his way eastward through the Snowy Mountain Massif, creating deep gorges filled with roaring white waters. Some monks believe the river is even older than the massif itself.
Emerging from the Massif the river meets up with his more mellow sister, who was birthed all the way east between the Lookout Peaks (or Bahing Mountains - named after the loud and wide carrying echoes of the native sheep variant).
Up to this point the Great River was feared as a deity of death and tragedy. Floating ice and trunks crush and maim any living being unlucky enough to fall into his icy embrace.
But under the calming influence of its sister stream, he turns south.
Gaining warmth and width and loosing speed, the river becomes the centre of a great civilisation. Wide barges filled with goods travel up and down its length. The color is brown from the silt he is carrying. Wherever the fertile soil is deposited, rich farmlands and great cities spring up. The early Holy Roman Empire spreads along his banks, embracing the river as its lifeline.
Having exhausted his life spending energy, the river bids farewell to the HRE in the desert lands west of Prague and musters all strength to once again test his resolve against a mountain range. Only weakly resembling the wild and headlong pass through the Snowy Mountains the more mature river cuts his way south through the mountain range that established a natural border between the HRE and its Arabian neighbours.
The gorges are not as steep but the power of the river is still deadly.
Only few dared to boat him, and only a handful survived.
Among those blessed (or lucky) few were early Buddhist monks bringing the word of the true faith to the Arabs.
Since then the great River is the spiritual band that connects the Roman and Arab brothers of the true faith.

Buddhist in whole world reacted with shock to the news of the destruction of the great city of Damascus. Stories of burnt temples and monasteries spread like wildfire through the Buddhist world. The number of slaughtered monks is rumoured to exceed 10,000.

It took only a few weeks of secret preparations and a party of daring monks were once again boating down the Great River like their brethren millennia ago. Once safely disembarked on the quays of Medina they negotiated with the local city council and garrison for the city to come under (effectively) Buddhist rule. Hoping to preserve the cultural heritage of Medina all eyes were now turned eastwards, where the dust from the approaching Ottoman army blurred the horizon.
No army has yet fought on the banks of the Great River, no flood of bloody corpses has yet washed down to end up in the warm Basins of Baghdad.
Arab and Roman monks prayed for the continued purity of their Great River, while the sound of the marching Ottomans makes the ground vibrate.

The world is holding its breath.

-
mh

[Ruff_Hi]

Classic!

[athlete4life10]

excellent write up!

[Dreylin]

A cheesy move is still a cheesy move, even when justified so eloquently.

[Ruff_Hi]

A cheesy move is still a cheesy move, even when justified so eloquently.

This happened to me in another pbem game I was playing. I skipped past the city, proceeded to kill the player that gave the city away. At the end of that war, I pm'd the person that had the city and requested it. They failed to give me said city so I took it the next turn in a 1 war turn.

[Dreylin]

Dreylin II woke late that morning. The celebrations for the capture of Kufah had gone late into the night so he really should have slept longer, but the clamouring was driving him to distraction. It took him a while to realise that the noise wasn't from his throbbing head, but was coming from the nearby tent which was served as the War room for his forward encampment.

Mustering his self-control to still the beating behind his eyes, he dressed and marched through the camp to see what was amiss. The room was, as always, filled with his General Staff, but he was surprised to see his battlefield commander Hernan Cortes standing amongst the bickering men.

The room stilled as Dreylin entered and sat in his acustomed chair. "Well Cortes, what are you doing here; shouldn't you be overseeing the attack on Medina about now?"

Cortes bowed and smiled thinly, "Your Majesty, I bring word from the front lines; the Arabian Army has abandoned their posts and fled the city."

Dreylin smiled, "Well that's not so surprising really is it; they've been running since we burnt out their training grounds at Damascus."

"Yes, Sire." Cortes looked uncomfortable, "There's a problem though, the citizens have taken down the Arabian flags and declared themselves a protectorate of the Holy Roman Empire."

"What!?" Dreylin's head immediately regretted the outburst, "And what does that yellow dog 'harmless say about this?"

Cortes looked relieved when the head of the Media Directorate rose to answer, "Sire, there are reports circulating among the Western nations that the burning of Damascus was done out of, how shall I put it, an excess of religious fervor. They claim we are on a crusade against Buddhism."

Dreylin sighed, "Confucius' Beard, we'd tried our best to avoid that. I even sent Jeanne to teach at Bursa to avoid her religious zeal claiming the battlefield. So what are our options?"

"Well we could take the city anyway; claim the messengers never reached us..." Cortes didn't sound very sure about the idea.

Dreylin considered, "But we signed a treaty with them, and all know that the Ottoman Empire honours it's commitments."

"True, however we could claim the HRE were the ones who broke the treaty by offering financial aid to our enemies."

"That just won't fly I'm afraid," the Media director interjected, "Even if we could prove financial dealings between the two, all the reports will be about our declaration of war; we'll come out as the aggressors."

"Actually it doesn't matter, we can't do it." The voice came from the back of the room and a young soldier stepped forward.

Dreylin looked at him squarely and raised an eyebrow, "Oh, and why not?"

The young man looked nervous now as all eyes turned to him, "The Articles of War for the Fourth Age, your Majesty. They strictly forbid troops from attacking without first removing themselves from enemy lands."

Dreylin sat back, "Ah yes, created to counter the famous ROP excesses of the 3rd Age ... they can't be circumvented?"

"I'm afraid not; it's drilled into each of us as soon as we join the army. We could sooner fly than break that commandment"

"Flying, now there's something to think about." Dreylin drifted off slightly.

"Yes your Majesty." the young man seemed uncertain, "Besides, as revered Conficius taught us, 'When anger rises, think of the consequences', a war on two fronts will just divide our forces."

Dreylin laughed, "By the Holy teachings, this lad has some insight. Cortes, promote him and take him with you for the next battle; I have the feeling he's going to make a Great General someday! Oh, and when you get there, form up the army and tell them to march, the Arabs can't run for ever."