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Awesome AAR KJ. :rofl:

It really made my day...
 
now that is what you call punk:D
 
Oh my ... HAHAHAHA ... ROTFL ... HAHAHAHA my ... oh ... I will HAHAHAHA... I can't laugh ... HAHAHAHA ... I will blow up! HAHAHAHA That was good John :) Really good! But The Lion will escape and bring much more of his boys ;)
 
Danish AAR 1705 - 1730

The protectorate

Denmark was under an imminent threat of her survival. The king of France had fallen ill and his governmental establishment was left paralysed, unable to do the simplest tasks. The Holy Roman Emperor in Vienna was not slow to use this sudden lack of a power-block hindering his foreign policies. The Commonwealth of Poland-Lithuania was in shambles from endless warfare against the Czar, and only months after a long awaited peace with the Russians, the Emperor attacked. Poland could only watch the Austrians take what they wanted, without ability to defend themselves.

This action sent signals to the kingdom of Denmark, and Frederik VI, an able monarch, realised his realm could not stand against the strong Emperor without France. To add to this, the newly elected King of Prussia was all too busy with introducing his subjects to the new idea of a kingdom; war was no option for them. The Danish Corridor, reaching far into the Holy Roman Empire, had to be fortified, but where was money to be had?

The decision was harsh, but it was wise. Frederik contacted the rich merchant realm of Holland, and his offer was well received. Denmark would become a protectorate under the wealthy and powerful Dutch administration, and receive its protection against the Imperial forces. The deal meant that new amounts of riches was brought to Denmark, and an extensive build-up of most of the realm was commenced. The Danish Corridor was the area of most concern, and the money in that area started to roll around. But the Shipyard in Copenhagen also got a piece of the action, and new ships set sail, now with a Dutch flag attached to the rear, next to the Danish one.

Frederik's decision was just in time. The preparations would prove to be a decisive factor in defending the Corridor. The Danish Army was rather spread out as the Imperial forces crossed the border, following the declaration of war from the Emperor. The war began as a one-sided story, as the Danish defences were crushed and fortresses lost. But soon the Netherlands sent reinforcements, and the war entered a new phase. The Austrians were slowly pushed back to Darmstadt, where they held the Danish border fort. It was besieged numerous times, and sieges were broken time and again. Eventually, however, Danish troops took control of the city.

Now the war had turned. Dutch reinforcements containing fearful artillery had shown their power, and a very successful invasion of the Empire began. After having occupied many Austrian forts, the Danish-Dutch forces saw themselves victims to the great Imperial field marshal Franz. Austria pushed the Danes and Dutch back to Darmstadt, where a stalemate was formed. Diplomats ensued, and a white peace was agreed upon, after more than 15 years of constant warfare.

The Danish had succeeded in thwarting an attempt from the Emperor of reducing Danish hegemony in the Empire, and they had found themselves a new ally. The Dutch had found a reason to engage in continental affairs, instead of the pure trading establishment that had kept them on top. The Danish-Dutch cooperation could well become a new block of power in the North sea as well as in the Holy Roman Empire. The future will show...



Ontime: Money
AAR: Money

(isn't this money supposed to be more than 500 now?)
 
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The watchman was pulling up the rope ladder when the Tsar and agent Bob walked into the room. "Hey, that guy we brought in here escaped down the rope ladder. I thought you'd wanna know".

"Um, by 'that guy', do you mean Hal, the guy it was your job to look after? The guy that I left with you for 10 minutes while me and Bob went to make sandwiches for everyone, and you're telling me he escaped?"

"He left this" and the watchman lifted up a wallet. "There wasn't any money in it when I found it. I wonder what Hal spent it all on. He probably pays his employees better than you do".

"You probably took it for yourself" and the Tsar yanked the wallet from his watchman. "Here Bob, you look through this. See if there's anything interesting".

Shuffling through it, Agent Bob sorted through numerous cards, pulled out Hal's drivers license. It had a picture of a lion on it. Pulled out receipts for a couple baby doe's, a rabbit and a herd of sheep he'd bought at one of his Petco colonies in America.

"Not much we can use. Oh, wait, there's something in this pocket... it's a key! And it has an address on it. 'Belgorod'. Well, perhaps we'll find his provinces here!"

"Good sorting work, Bob! Yeah, that's great. Makes something out of this debacle, anyway. I can't believe he got away in the first place" turned back to the watchman, "Bob, lets give a round of sandwiches to all the workers. Except you. You don't get one because I'm firing you, and only employees get sandwiches".

The watchman knew when he wasn't wanted, and hungrily lowered the rope ladder and climbed down, wishing he could have a sandwich. Now it was time to pilot the office toward Belgorod, where there would surely be found some or perhaps even all of the much sought provinces.


---

Tsar Peter's office wasn't particularly big, the budget didn't allow for any kind of exuberance. There was his room, and then a hallway with other rooms down the corridor where his employees did whatever they did when they weren't walking around with numbers underneath them. He didn't really know or care.

There was a bathroom in the basement, just one room, which emptied into a magazine that fed a big auto-cannon that would shoot at foliage randomly. The fruit of one of the Tsar's agricultural projects, the idea was that it would act as a sort of lottery for farmers who needed fertilizer. Sadly the accuracy was only so so, it being the 18th century and all. The Dutch make pretty good poop rifles, but unfortunately there was an embargo on Dutch goods at this time. So often as not, citizens would be caught in the cross-fire, and this tended to lower stability considerably.

"The peasantry are unhappy again, Tsar", Bob droned on, for what Peter thought was probably the twenty seventh time. "There are murmurings about fertilizer falling on cottages, getting in chimneys. One man was badly disfigured, twice. There are plenty of other accident reports. I'm wondering, sir, if maybe we should reconsider using this anymore".

The Tsar was resting his feet on his desk, staring into the corner, then looked up at his agent. "I'm well aware of this. I know there are plenty of naysayers, but I say it works! This technology is the ticket for bringing Russia into the modern age, and the age of the future. It's new, that's all it is. New things don't always work the way you want them to exactly, but even so, I'd say it works most of the time. The sandwiches we make, you know the lettuce and tomatoes came from crops fertilized by our cannon? What do you say to that?"

Agent Bob was sitting on the other side of the room holding a flop of papers. "About that. You know the men have lately caught wind of the fact we're making sandwiches out of the fertilizer that came from, well, the other sandwiches they've eaten. They're a bit uncomfortable with it, and some of them have started bringing their own sack lunches."

"What are you getting at, Bob?"

"Well, we're going to need to lower our sandwich output for the next quarter to maintain optimal sandwich production to consumption efficiency".


Tsar Peter was nodding his head when the door opened and one of the henchman popped his head in, "Sir, we've reached Belgorod. Shall we lower the rope ladder?"

Tsar Peter and agent Bob stood up. "Yes, man, lower the ladder. Rouse the boys, now's the time we've been waiting for. Lets search this place out!"

Fifteen standard minutes later the report came back. "Sir, we've managed to find one province".

"Which one"?

"Belgorod, sir. We have no idea where the other ones are, but they're definitely not here".

"Hmmmm. Well, that's pretty disappointing. I'd hoped for Ukraine at least. I need to get Earendhil on the phone".

"Ja?"

"Ear, my workers can't find any of the provinces I've been looking for...we've just finished scouring Belgorod, and frankly all we could find was Belgorod. I'm beginning to think they're lazy. I'm wondering if I couldn't outscource a little? I hear your guys are very good at finding provinces."

After a brief silence he answered in a very important voice. "I will help you, but first you must do one thing".

"What is that"?

"You must marry my daughter".

"You mean have her married? Because I can't do that, but my agent Bob is the metropolitan of Moscow, and he could probably do it later".

"No no" laughed the Archduke. "I mean you must marry her. Just marry her, do it, then I'll help you out."


To be continued...

BTW, thanks for the nice comments on the last one. And sorry this one is so long.
 
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The Tsar was at his wits end to find those other provinces, so without having any idea what his daughter was like or what she looked like, he agreed to it, a sort of 'blind marriage'.

And Ear sent an expedition into Poland right away, they searched the west from top to bottom, then announced that they'd found the provinces. They weren't the right ones, and the Tsar angrily said "No, I can't use those!", so Ear kept them to himself. The marriage was called off shortly after.

The Tsar and his office underlings went back to St Petersburg for the next five years, trying to raise money for another war with Poland by selling raffle tickets. The winner would get to be on a show "marry the Tsar", who would not actually be 'the Tsar', Peter, but an actor. It didn't raise very much, and in the end there wasn't enough money to pay for the actor, and Tsar Peter had to fill the role. He didn't want to marry someone from the lower classes that he didn't know though, so he went back and married the Austrian princess again.

Money was a problem. All because of the dirty Turks, continuing to possess the roads that ran to Siberia. They applied such heavy tolls on those roads that nobody could afford to travel through them. So there was no commerce between Moscow and Siberia, which otherwise would've been a very lucrative trade route for Russia. Some money flowed from the ports of China, some of which had been conquered a few years before. It came through St Petersburg, but that money all went to Vodka.

The Vodka industry on the other hand was booming. It was in many ways similar to the oil companies of the 20th and 21st centuries, a fuel for getting people across country, especially in sub-zero weather. No soldier would dare travel across those frozen wastelands without a stout stock of V to keep them warm. It warmed their bodies(or made them feel warm, which is really the same from a philosophical perspective), and numbed some of the aches and pains from sore muscles and worn feet(most of them couldn't afford shoes).

Barefoot running was very popular in the summer. Tsar Peter thought it very progressive and natural, kind of a return to man's original state. He idealized the concept and liked the way his feet felt when he did it, fleeter, more light footed. And of course his feet were lighter when running barefoot. It was only popular in the rest of Russia because nobody could afford shoes.

When an army of Russians went into battle with bare feet, the stomp stomp of thousands marching to the beat of a drum wasn't as loud, it was more of a soft version of the same thing. Some would paint their feet black to make it look like they had shoes on. A lot of these same people would paint armor on their bodies to make it look like they had armor, and helmets on their heads. Paint was a lot cheaper in Russia than clothing. Most people couldn't tell the difference from 100 feet.

Some would paint their bodies like armor, and then wear real armor over it. So when the battle was over, they could take their armor off to cool down, but look like they were still wearing it, to impress their commanders, or just to not look naked. It was ok to be naked, just so long as you didn't look naked. With exceptions if you were really good looking.

The Tsar was running barefoot one day along the canals of St Petersburg, early may, very nice running weather he thought to himself until he came to a point where there was a shingle on the sidewalk with a nail sticking out of it. There he stopped. The reason that he stopped was that he stepped on the nail attached to the shingle. "Ouch, that really hurt a lot. What's this". He picked up a note. The skin on his foot wasn't punctured because he had very thick calluses from a lot of barefoot running, and the nail wasn't very sharp anyway.

"It's from Hal. He must've known I would step on this nail. Here, you read it, Bob".

Bob had been riding a bike next to him. He never had gotten into running, and the bike was handy in case they needed to make a fast getaway- there was always the threat of assassination- the Tsar could hop on the handlebars and Bob would peddle away at the fastest speed setting.

"Ahem. It says, 'I hope you liked getting nailed because I'm going to do it again next time you come looking for my provinces. I'm also going to eat you. P.S. Rwar!'. And that's it. It looks like a threat letter, Sir".

"Yes, a threat. Well, he's going to have to do better than one shingle with a nail sticking out of it if he wants to stop me. I wonder, btw, how he was able to place that shingle there in the first place. This isn't exactly Hal country here."

Just then one of the guys with the numbers underneath them showed up. Limping slightly, he made a salute and approached maintaining eye contact with the Tsar.

"Lord, the enemy has placed objects with nails sticking out of them all over the city. We've had thousands of casualties, from cadets to old men, just about everyone who barefoot runs has run into one of them. Also, one of the buildings in downtown collapsed. So far, looking through the wreckage, we've found no nails".

"Hmmmm. That's terrible"

"Also, your wife's been kidnapped".

"Hmmm, well, whoever stole her probably needed her more than I did. We've got to do something about these nails. We need to find some hammers, and fast. I'm gonna run home now, you run and find some hammers and some people to nail these nails down. I'll try to think of some other things in the meantime and while I'm taking a shower. Yep, that should work out. Alright, lets get out of here, Bob."
 
In the upstairs of a warehouse near the mouth of the neva, you could see most of the boats docked in the harbor, unloading furs or iron from Siberia and loading barrels and barrels of vodka, to ship far and wide or simply to pay the merchants crews.

The sun was setting. The city itself, St Petersburg, 40 years new, oblivious to the turmoil slowly enveloping and coalescing into what was sure to be a chaotic and destructive morning. Hal was feeling very spritely. He turned to face the assembly of guys with numbers underneath them.

"Men, today you did well. Those nails in the shingles and the other things that you put all over the city have caused widespread turmoil, but they're just the opening salvo. Tonight we will complete our campaign of chaos. The first thing we need to do is uproot all the light poles throughout the city, so that nobody can see us.

"Then, when the city is pitch black, we'll break into the paint factory and steal paint, then graffiti the walls of all the buildings in town saying 'the apocolypse is nye' in red letters. We'll then put them in a word bubble and draw a picture of the Tsar next to it so they'll think that he's the one saying it! Everybody will panic! The city will be in a complete state of anarchy, mwahahahaha!" and the halls shook with the sound of evil laughter as his men joined in the raucous.

------

Tsar Peter was pretty satisfied with the cleanup work, hammering down nails or prying them up and putting them in a depository to return to the owner of the building that collapsed the other day. All in a day's work, he thought. Kid's, always pulling pranks for the hell of it, anything to appease that spirit of rebellion, though he couldn't remember ever doing anything like that in his day.


The next day he awoke to a din, and Bob standing before him telling him to wake up.

"I'm awake already! What's all the fuss about, Bob? I wanted to sleep til noon today. So what is it, the mutant rats escape from the sewers again?"

Bob had that calm, anxious look about him. "No, it's worse. Come, take a look for yourself".

They went outside and took a walk down the street. The word bubbles were everywhere, with the familiar faces next to them. "My god. Somebody who looks almost exactly like me has been painting pictures of himself and spreading panic. Could it be that my long lost brother has returned? And he's got religion now, or maybe he's really evil? An evil twin brother! Can you imagine?"

"Ummm, well, sir, I think it might've been done to look like you, to make you look bad".

"Oh, perhaps. Say, where are all the light posts?"

"We found throngs and throngs of the poles in some kind of pattern outside the city".

"We're still talking about light poles, right? The last thing I need is an army of Poles at the doorstep"

"Yeah, the light poles. It seems in the middle of the night, somebody had them spread out in a pattern. We're not sure what it is exactly from here, though."

"Lets go into my levitating office to check it out".

From 100 yards up, they could see clearly spelled "You suck".

"This is kind of unsettling".

"Yes sir. Who do you think is responsible for all this"?

"Well, I don't know. It'd be almost impossible to find out for sure, wouldn't it? I mean, nobody's going to fess up to this mess... Hmmmm. We need to find a scapegoat".

"Who do you think would be good".

The Tsar tought about it for a moment.

"Hal. The Polish. They're always causing trouble for us, and we need a new casus belli. Lets go to war against them again, see if we can't get back the rest of our provinces".

"Ah, yes. Brilliant idea, Tsar. I'm sure they wouldn't really dare, but it's a great way to use this to our advantage. How do we deal with the panic in St Petersburg"?

"I'll address the city. Tell them that the message was meant to say "'the apocolypse is nigh, but only if you are Polish'. And that will go along with our invasion. Whoever made it just forget to add the last part".

"Ah. Well, I suppose that will help".
 
John,

Somebody's been reading Terry Pratchett. :D
 
Well, someone somewhere. I don't know anything about Pratchett. I read the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy a while back, it was pretty inspiring. I'll have to look up this author sometime.
 
John,

No one can replace the inestimable Douglas Adams, but Pratchett does a fair job in a fantasy setting. I haven't read all the Discworld books myself (all thirty something of them), but he has the same sort of wit.

I wrote an AAR a long while ago, actually, based on Hithhiker's (especially Life, the Universe and Everything). Joan of Arc and Joseph Stalin were prominent characters.

I miss Douglas Adams.
 
John, I have to hand it to you. The AAR's are brilliant!!!!! :rofl:
 
The Tsar was standing at the royal Russian podium. A gift from the king of England, it was the podium the English once used on official occasions before Fal got tired of it and ordered himself an even more regal and impressive one, to mark the day British income reached 900 ducats a month. It was made of solid oak, with gold trim. A better piece of furniture than anyone in that crowd had ever seen.

He finished a long speech with the words "So, we should probably invade Poland", which made a small group in that throng very unhappy. Tired and proud from the going's on of the last few days, Hal's group, the Poles, began to slink away in self righteous anxiety.

Followed by a stubborn will to fight to the death. 20 minutes later in standard time, Hal was at the head of an army of guys on horses and guys with long sticks, pointy things attached to the ends; they were tools used to vault themselves, the Poles, into the air. They called it Pole vaulting.

They ate a lot of Polish sausage, so that once launched into the ranks of an enemy army en masse, they could unleash a devastating secret weapon, which would then be set alight to create a wall of fire within the enemy army. It was very scary. And also disgusting.

Tsar Peter's office was being cleaned, so he was down in the field with his army and telling them that now would be a good time to march over there and fight with the Poles.

"I'm not paying you guys to just stand here. Get your stuff and go over there and do what your job description says you do. I want you to pretend you're anti-matter, and the Polish army is matter, and go turn them into nothing".

One of the men piped up "uh, sir, when anti-matter collides with matter, don't they both disappear"?

"How do you even know about matter and anti-matter?".

"Bob told me".

Peter looked at Bob, who shrugged. "I'm a metropolitan. People ask me questions about the nature of God and the universe".

"Fine. Yes, they disappear, but the sooner you defeat them, the less time there will be for that to happen. So get on with it. Everyone, get out of here! Go over, shoo, fight!"

Peter really didn't like this way of directing his men, but his men were getting the idea. The throngs of guys with numbers underneath them standing around slowly turned into throngs of guys with numbers underneath them charging into the line of Poles, and then they meshed with the lines of Poles to form a big chaotic crowd of people fighting with each other.

"I can't tell what the heck is going on over here. Bob, I need you to climb that tree and tell me what you can see".

Up from above, Bob related the scene "there's some fires, and smoke."

"Yeah, I can kind of see that now. Who's winning?"

"To be honest, I have no idea. I think we'll just have to wait here for about ten standard seconds, let a couple phases finish".

"Right... Hmmm. Well, I can't wait. I'm gonna go home. I'm really tired. So you'll command in my place, just do what you think I would do".

And he left at a leisurely pace, surprisingly to himself not that worried about the battle, just soaking in the countryside. I guess I've come to trust Bob. Wow, look at that lake up ahead, I should come out here later and camp out. Oh, look at that tree up ahead! It's big! I could just climb up there and take a nap. Yeah, I think that's just what I'll do. And he climbed up, got into a fairly comfortable position and let himself fall asleep.

About 15 seconds later the army showed up, stampeding through. Guys screaming and staggering at a fast jog. Guys with sweat dripping from them. Guys with fire smoking off their backs. Peter just sat up there and watched. What bad employees, they're all running away! They were supposed to be over there fighting the Poles. Oh, and here they are. A deep swarm of horsemen flowed into view, at the tail end of the Russian mobs, slicing and dicing every way. And then came Hal, riding a white horse, with Bob behind him. They trotted up to the tree.

"Well, Peter, I see you've found a new home. You look good, it goes with your pants". Hal had a big grin on his face. He nudged Bob, "Looks like we interrupted his nap".

"Bob, what happened? I left explicit orders not to let things get out of control".

"Sorry, Tsar. I couldn't see anything, and the Poles have pulled out some really good tricks this time. I couldn't win the battle, I just decided to make the best of it".

"Yeah, well, this doesn't look very good to me".

"Hal has offered me a job. Really good pay. I had to accept his offer. I have to look out for my career. Sorry, it's been an honor working for you".

"You wanna come down and talk to us about things? Maybe make peace?" asked Hal, still carrying that big grin on his face.

"Bob, this hurts. I thought you were loyal to me. I thought I paid you pretty well, too. And no, Hal, I'm fine up here, thanks."

20 seconds later Hal asked again, this time holding an axe, and then handed it to Bob to start chopping down the tree. But just before the tree was about to tip over, the levitating office showed up and lowered the rope ladder to Peter.

"Not today, Hal! So long, you bunch of sausages!" And he grabbed a hold, climbed up and walked into his office. Took a big breath and exhaled. Smells like lavender, he thought. Now where is my remote control for the cannon. The cleaning lady must've moved it. But where?

"Have any of you seen the remote for the cannon?", he asked a bunch of guys sitting in one of the rooms eating sandwiches. "Yeah, it's right here. The batteries are run out though".

"How did that happen? Have you been using it?"

They looked at each other. "I think the cleaning lady may have been messing around with it".

"Hmmm... Any of you have batteries?".

"Nope". So he walked out of the room, paced down the hall.

If I could find some batteries for this remote, I could use the gun to get my revenge on Hal and his army. But the only thing in here that has batteries is the mouse that controls the army. Oh well. The army's been routed. I can use those.

So he put the batteries in the remote and switched it from automatic to manual, went into the tv room and went looking for Hal. Initially all he could see were some angry village people, but then he zoomed out and located Hal and Bob with a bunch of his men camped around a fire. Bob was playing guitar. Bob, that bastard. He took aim and fired. It hit the guy next to Bob and splattered a little. Bob looked up and gave a dirty look. Some of the guys flicked him off. Hal shook his fists. I'll show you what a dirty look is...

The next shot hit the fire, which exploded into a fireball and then went out. Damn! Now he couldn't see anything.

If Bob were here I'd tell him to order me another army, so I could kick his and Hal's asses. But he's not here, so I'll have to do it. He found the number and called. "Hi, I'd like to order one army. Yes. That much! Well, ok, I think you're robbing me but I have no choice do I? No, I don't need to talk to your manager. How long will it take? Two months local time? Nevermind what I mean by local time. That'll be fine, I'll take it". He gave them his credit card number and hung up.

Might as well put the batteries back into my mouse
, so he did that and then put it into his pocket as he walked back into the tv room after using the restroom. Just then an alarm went off. The crash alarm! Which meant the office was going to crash, and then he remembered that the mouse in his pocket could also be used to control the office's navigation. Shit!

He tried to get control of the office but it was spiraling too fast. Half a minute later he was skidding the ground until it splashed into a lake where it came to a stop. Didn't sink very far because it wasn't a very deep lake. Peter really didn't feel like getting out, it'd been such a depressing day, he just wanted to take another nap. Anything to get the mind off all of this.

Hal had seen the office go down. He brought his guys over to the lake and camped out around it, keeping a strict watch on the office lest Peter escape.
It wasn't until morning that Peter noticed them, who had by that time begun making boats. Too far to parley, thank god. Oh damn, here comes Hal and Bob in a boat. Rather than sticking around to talk, he told one of his men to do it, and rushed into the tv room.

It was still on. The mouse was on the floor. He picked it up and took a seat, gritting his teeth. The army was still out there somewhere, and he could control it from here, if he could just see them. But the office wasn't going anywhere, there was no aerial footage, unless he could concoct something. If Bob were here he would've suggested doing something with the cannon, tying a camera to a parachute and launching it into the air, or so. That jerk... He called the office staff together and jabbered some orders at them.

A moment later, the cannon went from bottom of the ship to the top, along with a camera and a parachute rigged behind it with a timer set for several seconds. Peter put the batteries back in the gun remote, pressed the button and switched the batteries back to the mouse, watching the tv screen as the camera shot into the air, slowed down and then began to fall. A couple seconds later the parachute opened up and Peter was looking down at the countryside, just like if he was in his office- before it crashed. This is how you lead armies.

The army's morale was back up, he could tell from the morale-o-meter, and it was fairly close. Good! All it took was an order and the army was marching back in to take another shot at the Poles, who must've been getting pretty far on those boats. Better go check on them.

Hal and Bob were arguing with the guy he'd deputed to parley with them.

"How are you going to get in here? We'll just lock the doors as soon as you finish with your boats" said the guy.

"Yeah, but we'll break through your locks! How hard do you think it'd be for us to put a ram on one of our boats?" Hal retorted. "Ah, there's someone I can negotiate with. Peter, could we please stop this silliness?"

"No. As my employee was just saying, all I have to do is lock the door".

"What about the ram"?

"I'll lock my office door. You won't be able to ram that, because there's a hallway wall next to the door. Bob could've told you that".

Bob rolled his eyes. "I've still got a key to the office".

"Yeah? Well, I don't care. I'll move my chair up to the doorknob. I'm not letting you in, and too bad!"

"I think you're being very immature," Hal threw in as Peter shut the door. Now, lets see how that army's coming along... Aha, there it is, a mile away.

A little more waiting and it was there, on the north side of the lake, just entering the zone of Polish encampment. There was some bustle, and then Poles came running out. Hal and Bob were still in their boat outside the door. They'd been knocking on and off up to the point the army showed up.

Peter and some guys got onto the roof. "Ok men, dive down and capture Hal and Bob for me. I'll give you each an extra years pay if you get them". One nice thing about not having Bob on the payroll anymore is I'll actually be able to afford it.

As they splashed into the water around Hal's boat and Hal's guy's began fending them off with their oars, Hal looked desperately to the scene of his men. Oh, my poor boys, he thought. Resistance was falling apart, he could see. The cavalry'd been marshaled, but there was no room to maneuver, and the Russians were pouring in by the thousand. Lost! The army was lost, fleeing, and here was he fighting for his freedom on a boat outside Peter's office. Complete reversal.

One of the men grabbed Hal's arm and pulled him overboard. "Rawr!" Bob was reaching overboard when Peter jumped from the roof right next to the boat and scrambled in. "Bob, I don't think Hal will be able to pay your salary anymore".

Bob looked down slightly and then looked up. "Yeah, I guess I'll be unemployed for a while... I don't suppose you've found a new agent yet?"

"I'm not going to just hire you back, after the way you betrayed me".

"Yeah, but you haven't got one, do you? And you know you don't want to take the time to accustom someone else to your style, and brief him on your affairs and give him time to educate himself on the ways of this world".

"It's fine. I don't mind".

"Yeah you do! And come on, you would've gone to work for Hal too, if you're really that mad about that. You know he pays a lot better than you do."

"But what about all the times we've had together? I thought we were buds!"

..."Yes. I shouldn't have gone to work for Hal, Ok, I'm sorry. Are you sure you don't need a new agent?"

"Yeah, I do. Ok, you're rehired. We'll talk more about this later, but you're definitely getting lower pay. I've promised most of your paycheck to these guys".

Who were swimming after Hal, half a dozen of them, quickly tiring. Turned out Hal was really a shion. Peter, Bob and a couple guys rowed after in the boat for a while, then turned back to the office. "Let's all go and make sandwiches!"



The battle turned out a resounding success for Russia. The Poles were all but crushed, leaving a pretty big hole in their defenses, allowing Peter's army to sweep over the rest of the country and add five more provinces to his collection.

There was a big celebration at Peter's royal palace. All his friends were invited from all over the continent, including Fal, who bought him a new office. Krisz and Ear came, along with Peter's wife, who it turned out had just been going home to visit her father. They played games and danced all night. Peter was known as Peter the great after that, for his administration, his lauded war skills, and awesome partying.


The question of what had happened to Hal was answered a few minutes later, when Drake, no longer feeling interested in doing things with the Ottoman Empire, told Hal that he could have it. Hal didn't have much of a country left for himself, so he said sure, why not. The upshot of that was that it was soon renamed "Poland #2", though pretty much everyone there and anywhere else kept on calling it the Ottoman Empire.
 
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Muahahahahaha! Peter! You always are not following my evil plans! When you and yours bunch of bastards from rotten West were eating sandwiches I came back to lake with my rod and fish out your levitating office! It allowed me to quickly give orders, gather army and move to KonstantinoPole (old name was not enough Polish)! Now all Poles are learning how to use turkish camels and elephants and soon entire zoo with The Lion in charge will show up in Russia!
 
p.s. John, I feel proud I inspire you to start writers career :D
 
Lol Hal :D. I knew something was going to happen to it!
 
Mat, I think you're right. They should probably be worth 1000D now.
 
Peter! One day you will pay me double for this insolences! For now we have to live in peace or our people will dethrone us.