[spoilers]Oh Canada! Victoria has a Commodore, eh?

[spacetyrantxenu]

Fair is only what your tanks and bombers make of the situation. Might makes right, war is peace, etc.

[Dp101]

You get the coast, its all you have needed for the game so far.

[Commodore]

We could definitely make a case that dry, foodless Germany is natural Canadian land. Plako opted for some fun it looks like; sadly, that killed a few beakers...I was two short on Radio. I realize I haven't shown Ottawa at full blast in a while. Enjoy:

I think I understand why Pindicator is wanting to tap out; his research looks to be outstripping Mack's slowly...

[Commodore]

Sigh. Five days per turn isn't much fun any more. I told Brick what we need to do is run a Test of Time Sci-Fi game now; Mackoti can settle t1, Pin t2, etc. It's a flawless plan! Skirmishing with 2metraninja is far less fun, you guys.


Dtay is slowly upgrading all his kanone into artillery; it's a bit of a bummer, but promoted to charge my big glut of cavalry still can wreck him good. If I can just convince Team Badass to kill Ishval...


I'm not spending a lot of time on my domestics any more, but it still frankly astonishes me how great even little filler cities are. I know Hashoosh hates Brampton with a fiery passion, but look at how much cash it rakes in!

And this is one of my worst cities. Late game, land is strength for this reason.

[Commodore]

Cool beans. Totally gonna do a massive wrap-up post...

...probably sometime tomorrow.

[Commodore]

Cool beans. Totally gonna do a massive wrap-up post...

...probably sometime tomorrow.

Or, instead, I can just do a dozen of these over the next couple weeks:

Mayan Faces: Trade Representative in Victoria.

You love your job, each day, every day. The bawling horns of the diesels and the high whistles of the steam engines lull you and your family to sleep just as often as they bring you all back to the waking world; your wife sometimes grumbles about the quiet apartment back in Chau Sara, but your boys love the energy and motion as much as you do; your house and its next door office sit near one of the biggest train stations in the world.

Victoria is the perfect city; her great docks take in thousands of tons of goods each day not just for her own use, but for the nearby towns all around as well as all the significant cities of north and east Greenland. The manufacturing power of the city is respectable even to a Mayan. Your wife loves the refined culture of the second capital of Canada, and your business takes you often enough to the great Forbidden Palace where you can rub shoulders with the powerful from as far as Yellowknife or Bylot. Yes, Victoria has been a welcome home for your family.

The captains from Maya are always impressed especially when you take them down to Victoria Central; the railways of Canada are the oldest in the world and aging steam engines still chuff with stately grace away from the platforms pulling long passenger trains filled with rough, honest Canadian miners, farmers, and tradesmen. You always recommend the longer northern trips to tourists, students, and pilgrims that stop by; the rails lead deep into the bracing wilds that are like nothing the people at home have ever seen.

You and the boys have taken many long trips throughout great Greenland; west through Despair Gap the fertile green valleys of Banks Province and the Devon Peninsula beckon, while the harder tundra expanses north of the Ringnes Range stir the imagination and the heart. Your wife laughed when you told her your second honeymoon would be taken over the hills in sleepy Anticosti, but the bucolic charms of the place left her peaceful and happy, and you now go there every year in late spring when the snows finally clear.

The hard winters must have been a wide awake nightmare to the original settlers of a thousand years ago, but now it means short cold days and long, cozy nights; the whole family curling up on the couch before the new television. The Incan Llama condemns celebrating Christmas, but here among the devout Canadians your family has embraced the winter holiday, and are welcomed with surprising charity into the homes of your neighbors for Yuletide feasts and carols. You love the sleeping winters here far more than the cold and depressing July rains back home.

Nirvana might be far away but business, and life, are very good here among the Canadians. You privately wonder, at times, if you should encourage your boys to apply for citizenship...they both assure you they would rather be here than anywhere else in the world.

[Gazglum]

Beautiful, ive been waiting for the Commodore wrapup posts to begin. Keep them coming!

[Dp101]

Some of your best work.

[Old Harry]

Made it all the way through! Only took a week . Thanks for the thread Commodore, even better than normal! You should totally give up and just have fun in all your games . I will be using our new team name wherever possible from now on .

Also thanks for a joyful war - I made a lot of mistakes due to playing turns after midnight with Young Harry interrupting, but you bailed us out of the worst of them with your destroyers .

Back at the start - on the turn where you didn't declare because of the defensive pact - we didn't declare because I thought I'd misunderstood your diplo and we really wanted you to declare first for various reasons I've explained elsewhere. If I had declared our first action would have been to try to wipe out dtay's commando stack and (possibly) save our capital . Also I very nearly declared about five turns earlier to wipe out his pre-destroyer fleet with ones I'd bought from Mackoti, but screwed that up too...

Those Kannone totally stymied our attack plans too. There was just no way to make and keep gains (which is why you saw me throw away that Artillery stack outside Jetboy on an outside chance that something would happen). When the game ended we had about ten commandos (thanks to farming 2Metra ) and were adding one a turn, so Ishval would have got splashed sooner or later (except that dtay filled it, so perhaps I'd have gone for Musket Shrine instead, or just wasted them somewhere else...)

Also: At various times during the game I thought people (you, Scooter, Plako) were about to properly fight Mackoti, and we were ready to pile on, but it just never happened . At one point late game we could have commandoed quite a few of his cities...

Also: More wrapup posts please!

Also: Anyone play Rampart?

I'm off to read dtay next...

[Commodore]

Also: More wrapup posts please!

Funny you should say that...

Babylonian Faces: Technical Liaison in Sumerside

The snarls of aircraft engines and the mechanical smells of their maintenance fill your senses, your thoughts, your whole self. When the vast PB13 bombers roll out of the near hangars and crouch at the end of the runway, you can feel your body tense; every roaring takeoff is a release. The mighty bombers of Canada fly their vast death-laden journeys deep into Germany, coming back spent and flush with success. Your heart flies with them.

Any daughter of dusky Babylon knows the call of vengeance from the earliest suckle of her mother's milk, and in your inmost parts the kindled longing for blood pants and thirsts daily. Upon the vibrating ramparts of Canada you are slaked, and every day you learn more of the science of flight, while long into the night you share the secrets of rocketry with your counterpart.

Your closest liaison is the Canadian's Canadian; tall, dark, bearded, and strong. He is an engineer and a thinker, planning and careful. You smile at the thought of his dark eyes watching as you pace back and forth in your free-form classes of flight theory. For all his stolid caution and your fiery passion, you both somehow meet on the perfect wavelength, and nowhere does your collaboration explode with crackling energy more than in the discussion of those beautiful carriages of death. You love how he looks when he is involved in a problem; you know whatever his plans bring forth will be deadly and efficient.

It isn't like this every day. You smile again and play with your flowing hair as you remember when he took you on a “cultural tour” to the city of Charlotte; the harsh beauty of Prince Edward Island left you gasping as your train barreled through the windswept hills and tundra. So different, and so intriguing to you, raised under steaming equatorial skies.

The Canadians speak of using the rockets to fly to the moons, perhaps someday even beyond, but you just chuckle and shake your head at them. Babylon knows; war is all there is and all there ever will be. It is enough that they are preparing their new submarines to carry missiles. It is enough to see the vast flights every day leave for the south, and come home after bathing your enemies in fire.

You and your liaison wait for the moment, swift approaching, when you shall return to home. You will meet him again, you promise, as you travel north over smoking fields and he south over chopping seas, and your perfect harmony can be consummated in the Babylonian way...down a path paved with German skulls and among the rubble of your nation's hated enemies' finest cities. Then you shall meet your Canadian again, and you will dance together on your ravaged earth under his dominant skies.