A Papal Dilemma
- Chapter One -
Warning - this is a Beta AAR based on an early build. Bug fixes, balancing and AI behaviour have all been tweaked since this was written- Chapter One -

Papal States in 1836
I write this for you, old friend. I sit here and think back to all that has happened. Did you know it would end this way? I think you did. Oh I’m sure if I’d asked you then you would have truthfully confessed that such was not your intention – we are not always rational when our heart is on fire and your heart burned brightly that night when you came to my office those many years ago and laid out to me what we had to do if the Papacy was to survive the growing nationalism sweeping Italy.
I was not convinced but you bought me off with your sweet discussions of Ideology that would end in the waking hours when all rational thought has fled. Even then you knew my weaknesses too well.

The Papacy chooses first to dabble in Ideology before Industry
1836, yes that was the year the Papal States shook off their cloistered existence and stepped boldly onto the world stage with a daring act that even now causes me to wipe away beads of sweat that are forming on my brow. I expected Austria to intervene, I was sure of it, yet somehow you persuaded me they would not, that they would be mindful of the prestige of our office and perhaps more importantly mindful of the protection France still gave us, a shield of military might held over our ancient dominion. We were going in as liberators to restore the morals of a decadent state, so we said. No, we were going in to secure the iron and lumber that your newly planned factories needed to drive our growth and attract the labourers and craftsmen to work in our cities.

Modena is added to Papal control in August ‘36
I was aghast when it was done. I threw myself down on this alter of mine and wept real tears. I prayed to God for guidance and for forgiveness yet instead he gave me you. I had formed in my mind the orders I would give, freeing the people of Modena once more, but before I could utter them you came again and showed me the profits our factories were now making, profits which you said should rightly be given back to the poor of our nation, including the poor of Modena. The former rulers of that state never treated them so well; you had all the figures, the weekly wages, the deaths from malnourishment. The beatings, the oppression, you had it all, and I, yes I could be their saviour through an act so simple it beggared belief, a signature on a piece of paper that would set the poor tax at a measly 34%, the lowest in Europe. Was it really the lowest? I had no way to tell. You said it was and I believed you. We could save the poor and make a small surplus for future good causes. I beseech you, how could I say no?