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Post by Fleischmann on Jul 31, 2021 3:12:56 GMT
The Sheenish Affair A long time ago, under a king that was good and just, the Raikhsharjis had thrived and once been one of the greatest fighting forces the land had ever seen, able to break great castles with cast bronze cannons and able to keep the dark forces of the world at bay with pikes and shot. It never had to worry about being unable to afford equipping young men with new weapons, nor did it ever have to turn men away as it could simply raise new armies. Those days had long since passed. Following a series of defeats and near disasters overseas, it was realised by the government that he who controls the seas can control the world. This led to a rebalancing of resources, with at first only minor spending limits being placed on the Raikhsharjis and then a few changes in doctrine towards a more defensive role. As the century rolled on though, the Hauhkunoleiksflutt managed to win impressive victory after impressive victory, and soon they capitalised on their growing prestige and political clout to shift the focus away from the land almost entirely. By the tun of the century, the Raikhsharjis had been barely keeping equal funding to the Flutt, but with the advent of ironclads and steamships, that balance was utterly destroyed. The once proud army was no longer able to maintain the most advanced weapons and large numbers at the same time, leading to severe austerity measures being taken to ensure that the training quality and technical expertise did not diminish, even if their equipment became progressively outdated and even if they started having to rely on their own ability to convert older weapons into newer ones. Finally though, that severe drought they had experienced over the last century was finally coming to an end. With the civil war still fresh in the minds of many and the recent acquisition of certain territories, there was now both the political clout as well as the means needed to start a revival of the Raikhsharjis. No one could deny that without them, the civil war would have gone to the Jergtrau scum. It was also helped that the killings had stopped and the animosity between the Flutt and Harjis had somewhat simmered down, so active political opposition was sparse most of the time now. Having learnt a lesson or two from the Flutt about how to best avoid being at the mercy of the Raikhsgamotjing when it comes to funding, as well as knowing that their current prestige would not last forever, with any funding gains earned now being fleeting, they had set about carrying out a plan to ensure that the Raikh was protected by nothing but the best and that they would always be able to support themselves independently. Secretly and only ever so technically legally, some of the best soldiers were being de-mobilised or transferred to Meinitzmark's Landsharjis. Equipment and funding was also being shifted around a bit, with experienced officers going through depots and selecting nothing but the best for yet unnamed projects. One of these projects was the one currently happening. The first few factories in Meinitzmark had been set up and had already produced some of the first of the new uniforms and guns. Now it was time to ensure that the factories remained profitable enough to keep them open and even possibly expand them. A team of 'retired' officers and soldiers in their civilian clothes were now stepping off a transport in the City of Sheen, with bags full of money, guns, and technical specifications. To get here, they had boarded a ship first to Hweituzdas so as to avoid any serious contraband checks, before then taking a ship to Tanysira to avoid export controls, and then taking a ship from Tanysira to Sheen to get them to the city of a thousand deals. It had taken them the better part of a month, but they were now finally here and ready to make the Sheenish a deal that they could not refuse. Volunteer companies of 'retired' soldiers would start coming over to help train and even fight in the Sheenish military, plus new factories in Hweituzdas, Meinitzmark, and Tanysira would produce top of the line weapons for export to Sheen, saving them on research and development costs and providing these intrepid 'businessmen' with a steady supply of cash for their 'partners' back home. Others would be approached, but the Sheenish were the least likely to ask questions and thus the first to be talked to.   |
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Post by Fleischmann on Aug 1, 2021 19:36:40 GMT
Cocaine for GunsA lot of things had been happening. A lot of things... Besides the gun running to Sheen, the illegal factories being set up, and the news that the Hauhkuno had practically declared open season on the communists in Rodina, there had just been news of a syndicalist revolution in Ymir! The new Syndicated Unions of Ymir had brought the red threat into sharp focus and had made the fiery rhetoric of the Hauhkuno in St. Helena all the more prescient.
Honestly, socialist thought was antithetical to life itself, yet in the last decade three revolutions had occurred in quick succession. To make matters worse, this last one had also been extremely violent from the reports coming out of Ymir. They still maintained their theocracy and militarism, but now with a decidedly red tint to it all. This had to have been the worst combination of characteristics, as they were just as likely to keep to themselves as start randomly funding revolutions all over the place.
In order to counter this threat, it had been decided that a bit of under-handed trickery was required. A bunch of men in suits stepped off a boat that they had chartered. They did not need to exactly be subtle in such a backwater and in fact needed to make a proper show of force. As such, they were all dressed to the nines, and their chosen representative was decked out in a luxurious white suits and surrounded by men all brandishing the latest in military developments, sub-machine guns. Another man carried a case loaded with gold bars and a contract, just a taste of what was to come. Besides gold, they would also be offering guns and military advisers, plus mercenaries if they really wanted them. In exchange, they would be getting all the drugs they needed to help fight the threat of communism.
Dunwik, what a miserable backwater.  |
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Post by Dunwik on Aug 1, 2021 19:53:12 GMT
Cocaine for GunsA lot of things had been happening. A lot of things... Besides the gun running to Sheen, the illegal factories being set up, and the news that the Hauhkuno had practically declared open season on the communists in Rodina, there had just been news of a syndicalist revolution in Ymir! The new Syndicated Unions of Ymir had brought the red threat into sharp focus and had made the fiery rhetoric of the Hauhkuno in St. Helena all the more prescient.
Honestly, socialist thought was antithetical to life itself, yet in the last decade three revolutions had occurred in quick succession. To make matters worse, this last one had also been extremely violent from the reports coming out of Ymir. They still maintained their theocracy and militarism, but now with a decidedly red tint to it all. This had to have been the worst combination of characteristics, as they were just as likely to keep to themselves as start randomly funding revolutions all over the place.
In order to counter this threat, it had been decided that a bit of under-handed trickery was required. A bunch of men in suits stepped off a boat that they had chartered. They did not need to exactly be subtle in such a backwater and in fact needed to make a proper show of force. As such, they were all dressed to the nines, and their chosen representative was decked out in a luxurious white suits and surrounded by men all brandishing the latest in military developments, sub-machine guns. Another man carried a case loaded with gold bars and a contract, just a taste of what was to come. Besides gold, they would also be offering guns and military advisers, plus mercenaries if they really wanted them. In exchange, they would be getting all the drugs they needed to help fight the threat of communism.
Dunwik, what a miserable backwater. Their meeting would occur in the tropical and industrial paradise of Dunwik itself, that being the great capital of Miskatonic. One could smell the city's churning industry for leagues around it, and those unaccustomed to its thick air would cough and wheeze if they were ever downwind of the great industrial districts that dominated the city's skyline, culture, and economy. However, the docks were slightly cleaner at least and their representative would come face-to-face with a gang of Dunwik representatives, in similar dress. Although their soldiers did not carry submachine guns, instead opting for carbines and shotguns, everyone was in proper dress and formation - allegedly a rarity in this locale. The leader of this group was a young, bald man with teeth so polished that the Sadalen representative could see his reflection in them, and they carried with them a gigantic, horse-drawn cart loaded with crate after crate of unknowable supplies. Their end of the bargain. The representative would step forwards first, uncaring of the danger, and smiled disarmingly, extending his hand to shake it. Whether or not the gesture was received, he would look over. "Sadalen, I think we can dismiss any unneeded preamble. Let us engage in mutually beneficial diplomacy between our two great nations, to safeguard the spirit and life of Man," he says calmly, "what have you to offer us, and what do you wish in exchange? You will find, as always, that the Technocratic Confederation delivers." |
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Post by xander10 on Aug 1, 2021 20:10:00 GMT
The Sheenish Affair A long time ago, under a king that was good and just, the Raikhsharjis had thrived and once been one of the greatest fighting forces the land had ever seen, able to break great castles with cast bronze cannons and able to keep the dark forces of the world at bay with pikes and shot. It never had to worry about being unable to afford equipping young men with new weapons, nor did it ever have to turn men away as it could simply raise new armies. Those days had long since passed. Following a series of defeats and near disasters overseas, it was realised by the government that he who controls the seas can control the world. This led to a rebalancing of resources, with at first only minor spending limits being placed on the Raikhsharjis and then a few changes in doctrine towards a more defensive role. As the century rolled on though, the Hauhkunoleiksflutt managed to win impressive victory after impressive victory, and soon they capitalised on their growing prestige and political clout to shift the focus away from the land almost entirely. By the tun of the century, the Raikhsharjis had been barely keeping equal funding to the Flutt, but with the advent of ironclads and steamships, that balance was utterly destroyed. The once proud army was no longer able to maintain the most advanced weapons and large numbers at the same time, leading to severe austerity measures being taken to ensure that the training quality and technical expertise did not diminish, even if their equipment became progressively outdated and even if they started having to rely on their own ability to convert older weapons into newer ones. Finally though, that severe drought they had experienced over the last century was finally coming to an end. With the civil war still fresh in the minds of many and the recent acquisition of certain territories, there was now both the political clout as well as the means needed to start a revival of the Raikhsharjis. No one could deny that without them, the civil war would have gone to the Jergtrau scum. It was also helped that the killings had stopped and the animosity between the Flutt and Harjis had somewhat simmered down, so active political opposition was sparse most of the time now. Having learnt a lesson or two from the Flutt about how to best avoid being at the mercy of the Raikhsgamotjing when it comes to funding, as well as knowing that their current prestige would not last forever, with any funding gains earned now being fleeting, they had set about carrying out a plan to ensure that the Raikh was protected by nothing but the best and that they would always be able to support themselves independently. Secretly and only ever so technically legally, some of the best soldiers were being de-mobilised or transferred to Meinitzmark's Landsharjis. Equipment and funding was also being shifted around a bit, with experienced officers going through depots and selecting nothing but the best for yet unnamed projects. One of these projects was the one currently happening. The first few factories in Meinitzmark had been set up and had already produced some of the first of the new uniforms and guns. Now it was time to ensure that the factories remained profitable enough to keep them open and even possibly expand them. A team of 'retired' officers and soldiers in their civilian clothes were now stepping off a transport in the City of Sheen, with bags full of money, guns, and technical specifications. To get here, they had boarded a ship first to Hweituzdas so as to avoid any serious contraband checks, before then taking a ship to Tanysira to avoid export controls, and then taking a ship from Tanysira to Sheen to get them to the city of a thousand deals. It had taken them the better part of a month, but they were now finally here and ready to make the Sheenish a deal that they could not refuse. Volunteer companies of 'retired' soldiers would start coming over to help train and even fight in the Sheenish military, plus new factories in Hweituzdas, Meinitzmark, and Tanysira would produce top of the line weapons for export to Sheen, saving them on research and development costs and providing these intrepid 'businessmen' with a steady supply of cash for their 'partners' back home. Others would be approached, but the Sheenish were the least likely to ask questions and thus the first to be talked to. An easy deal to take, the Army of Sheen graciously and quickly signed the deal on the spot, ignoring even the small text on page 3 of the deal. Shipments were set to arrive for the new equipment by the end of the year. |
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Post by Fleischmann on Aug 1, 2021 20:37:42 GMT
Cocaine for GunsA lot of things had been happening. A lot of things... Besides the gun running to Sheen, the illegal factories being set up, and the news that the Hauhkuno had practically declared open season on the communists in Rodina, there had just been news of a syndicalist revolution in Ymir! The new Syndicated Unions of Ymir had brought the red threat into sharp focus and had made the fiery rhetoric of the Hauhkuno in St. Helena all the more prescient.
Honestly, socialist thought was antithetical to life itself, yet in the last decade three revolutions had occurred in quick succession. To make matters worse, this last one had also been extremely violent from the reports coming out of Ymir. They still maintained their theocracy and militarism, but now with a decidedly red tint to it all. This had to have been the worst combination of characteristics, as they were just as likely to keep to themselves as start randomly funding revolutions all over the place.
In order to counter this threat, it had been decided that a bit of under-handed trickery was required. A bunch of men in suits stepped off a boat that they had chartered. They did not need to exactly be subtle in such a backwater and in fact needed to make a proper show of force. As such, they were all dressed to the nines, and their chosen representative was decked out in a luxurious white suits and surrounded by men all brandishing the latest in military developments, sub-machine guns. Another man carried a case loaded with gold bars and a contract, just a taste of what was to come. Besides gold, they would also be offering guns and military advisers, plus mercenaries if they really wanted them. In exchange, they would be getting all the drugs they needed to help fight the threat of communism.
Dunwik, what a miserable backwater. Their meeting would occur in the tropical and industrial paradise of Dunwik itself, that being the great capital of Miskatonic. One could smell the city's churning industry for leagues around it, and those unaccustomed to its thick air would cough and wheeze if they were ever downwind of the great industrial districts that dominated the city's skyline, culture, and economy. However, the docks were slightly cleaner at least and their representative would come face-to-face with a gang of Dunwik representatives, in similar dress. Although their soldiers did not carry submachine guns, instead opting for carbines and shotguns, everyone was in proper dress and formation - allegedly a rarity in this locale. The leader of this group was a young, bald man with teeth so polished that the Sadalen representative could see his reflection in them, and they carried with them a gigantic, horse-drawn cart loaded with crate after crate of unknowable supplies. Their end of the bargain. The representative would step forwards first, uncaring of the danger, and smiled disarmingly, extending his hand to shake it. Whether or not the gesture was received, he would look over. "Sadalen, I think we can dismiss any unneeded preamble. Let us engage in mutually beneficial diplomacy between our two great nations, to safeguard the spirit and life of Man," he says calmly, "what have you to offer us, and what do you wish in exchange? You will find, as always, that the Technocratic Confederation delivers." A bit taken aback by the man's mistake, he first set about clarifying some details. 'We simple businessmen, nothing more, nothing less. We do not represent any government.' He fixed he man with a strong look. 'We will be willing to provide your men with excellent military training, modern equipment, bits of intelligence, and even arrange contracts between you and professionals skilled in warmaking. All we want in exchange is gold, drugs, and access to your markets.' He snapped and an assistant stepped forward and opened a case, inside of it being several guns all ready to be assembled for demonstration. |
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Post by Dunwik on Aug 1, 2021 20:50:43 GMT
Their meeting would occur in the tropical and industrial paradise of Dunwik itself, that being the great capital of Miskatonic. One could smell the city's churning industry for leagues around it, and those unaccustomed to its thick air would cough and wheeze if they were ever downwind of the great industrial districts that dominated the city's skyline, culture, and economy. However, the docks were slightly cleaner at least and their representative would come face-to-face with a gang of Dunwik representatives, in similar dress. Although their soldiers did not carry submachine guns, instead opting for carbines and shotguns, everyone was in proper dress and formation - allegedly a rarity in this locale. The leader of this group was a young, bald man with teeth so polished that the Sadalen representative could see his reflection in them, and they carried with them a gigantic, horse-drawn cart loaded with crate after crate of unknowable supplies. Their end of the bargain. The representative would step forwards first, uncaring of the danger, and smiled disarmingly, extending his hand to shake it. Whether or not the gesture was received, he would look over. "Sadalen, I think we can dismiss any unneeded preamble. Let us engage in mutually beneficial diplomacy between our two great nations, to safeguard the spirit and life of Man," he says calmly, "what have you to offer us, and what do you wish in exchange? You will find, as always, that the Technocratic Confederation delivers." A bit taken aback by the man's mistake, he first set about clarifying some details. 'We simple businessmen, nothing more, nothing less. We do not represent any government.' He fixed he man with a strong look. 'We will be willing to provide your men with excellent military training, modern equipment, bits of intelligence, and even arrange contracts between you and professionals skilled in warmaking. All we want in exchange is gold, drugs, and access to your markets.' He snapped and an assistant stepped forward and opened a case, inside of it being several guns all ready to be assembled for demonstration. "Simple businessmen doing simple business? I can do... simple business," the man smiles wolfishly, waving one of his own soldiers to take the gun, inspecting it carefully. The businessman would look back at the representative. "Simple businessmen with top-of-the-line guns and training, doing simple business with us, who have all the white gold you'll ever want. We're hearing your offer, and I'm liking the way that it sounds, provided that this all stays 'off the books' as it is and as it were. As for access to our markets, anyone can buy from us as it is, so such arrangements are somewhat superfluous. We'll give you the drugs you need in exchange for the information and training you've offered." The businessman would hand over a suitcase and then open it, revealing the narcotic cargo inside. He would then smile. "Go on, try some. There's no purer cocaine in all the world than that from Miskatonic. However much you can afford is however much we'll sell, since your simple terms agree to us. We will provide cocaine and morphine, instead of cocaine and gold, and you will have access to our markets, and we to yours." |
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Post by Fleischmann on Aug 1, 2021 21:14:01 GMT
A bit taken aback by the man's mistake, he first set about clarifying some details. 'We simple businessmen, nothing more, nothing less. We do not represent any government.' He fixed he man with a strong look. 'We will be willing to provide your men with excellent military training, modern equipment, bits of intelligence, and even arrange contracts between you and professionals skilled in warmaking. All we want in exchange is gold, drugs, and access to your markets.' He snapped and an assistant stepped forward and opened a case, inside of it being several guns all ready to be assembled for demonstration. "Simple businessmen doing simple business? I can do... simple business," the man smiles wolfishly, waving one of his own soldiers to take the gun, inspecting it carefully. The businessman would look back at the representative. "Simple businessmen with top-of-the-line guns and training, doing simple business with us, who have all the white gold you'll ever want. We're hearing your offer, and I'm liking the way that it sounds, provided that this all stays 'off the books' as it is and as it were. As for access to our markets, anyone can buy from us as it is, so such arrangements are somewhat superfluous. We'll give you the drugs you need in exchange for the information and training you've offered." The businessman would hand over a suitcase and then open it, revealing the narcotic cargo inside. He would then smile. "Go on, try some. There's no purer cocaine in all the world than that from Miskatonic. However much you can afford is however much we'll sell, since your simple terms agree to us. We will provide cocaine and morphine, instead of cocaine and gold, and you will have access to our markets, and we to yours." Happy for the corruption of lesser peoples, the negotiator smiled widely. He extended his hand out to shake on the deal and said 'I am glad we can such amicable people to work with here.' |
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Post by Dunwik on Aug 1, 2021 21:17:36 GMT
"Simple businessmen doing simple business? I can do... simple business," the man smiles wolfishly, waving one of his own soldiers to take the gun, inspecting it carefully. The businessman would look back at the representative. "Simple businessmen with top-of-the-line guns and training, doing simple business with us, who have all the white gold you'll ever want. We're hearing your offer, and I'm liking the way that it sounds, provided that this all stays 'off the books' as it is and as it were. As for access to our markets, anyone can buy from us as it is, so such arrangements are somewhat superfluous. We'll give you the drugs you need in exchange for the information and training you've offered." The businessman would hand over a suitcase and then open it, revealing the narcotic cargo inside. He would then smile. "Go on, try some. There's no purer cocaine in all the world than that from Miskatonic. However much you can afford is however much we'll sell, since your simple terms agree to us. We will provide cocaine and morphine, instead of cocaine and gold, and you will have access to our markets, and we to yours." Happy for the corruption of lesser peoples, the negotiator smiled widely. He extended his hand out to shake on the deal and said 'I am glad we can such amicable people to work with here.' Glad that only hard drugs needed be sold, the representative returned the gesture, extending his hand and shaking it. "If simple businessmen ever need to perform simple business - no questions asked - then you know where we are, and you know what we have. It's a pleasure not doing business with any government." |
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Post by Fleischmann on Feb 28, 2023 1:20:51 GMT
The Establishment of the Subsurface Service
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Post by Fleischmann on Mar 12, 2023 15:39:18 GMT
From: Sa Hebiðdräkh af Kreg, Hugo Martinez
To: Admiral of the Sheenish Fleet, Lewis
Dear Admiral Lewis,
I hope you are doing better than I.
I am writing to you in regards to a recent development that has greatly affected my holiday experience. As you may know, I like to spend my vacations in a villa on the coast overlooking the strait. However, my enjoyment of the view has been severely marred by a group of Rashadis who have set up guns on the opposite side of the Dragkona. Their presence is not only a disturbance to the peacefulness of the area, but it also poses a potential threat to the safety of myself and others.
Their presence is completely unacceptable and has ruined what should be a serene and tranquil vacation for me. Furthermore, the air in the area has also become increasingly foul due to their activities. It is outrageous that I should have to endure such conditions simply because of their disregard for the environment and their fellow man.
If only a great wind to carry them away and the scent of lilac could replace their foul stench.
Sincerely,
Hebiðdräkh af Kreg, Hugo Martinez
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Post by xander10 on Mar 12, 2023 16:13:55 GMT
From: Sa Hebiðdräkh af Kreg, Hugo Martinez
To: Admiral of the Sheenish Fleet, LewisDear Admiral Lewis, I hope you are doing better than I. I am writing to you in regards to a recent development that has greatly affected my holiday experience. As you may know, I like to spend my vacations in a villa on the coast overlooking the strait. However, my enjoyment of the view has been severely marred by a group of Rashadis who have set up guns on the opposite side of the Dragkona. Their presence is not only a disturbance to the peacefulness of the area, but it also poses a potential threat to the safety of myself and others. Their presence is completely unacceptable and has ruined what should be a serene and tranquil vacation for me. Furthermore, the air in the area has also become increasingly foul due to their activities. It is outrageous that I should have to endure such conditions simply because of their disregard for the environment and their fellow man. If only a great wind to carry them away and the scent of lilac could replace their foul stench. Sincerely, Hebiðdräkh af Kreg, Hugo Martinez Dear Mr Martinez, I wish you good health and for the winds to change so that you are surrounded by the aroma of 1000 bakeries. I am saddened to hear that your Holiday is being ruined by the stench produced by the Rashadi, I have remembered that there was a shipment that I meant to send for your evaluation, we can send it immediately by Airship as well as dropping some lovely perfumes upon the Rashadi so that they may smell better. Perhaps I could recommend to their Emperor the mandatory use of Deoderant in his Realm. Kind Regards and Best Holiday Wishes, Admiral Lewis |
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