tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60224412579153067272024-02-19T16:12:36.049+11:00Die Kriege des ZobelshutsBeing a record of the wars between the Grand Duchy of Saxe-Coburn und Buchholz<br>and the Principality of Velikye Byelgorodniya, imaginary nation states of 18thC Europe.Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-74161212886295627222017-08-19T17:17:00.000+10:002017-08-19T17:18:06.867+10:00Huzzah! More hussars!<b>CR Nr. VI, von Labradoodle's Hussars</b><br />
Not to be outdone by <a href="http://warsofthesablehat.blogspot.com/2016/11/new-recruits-to-army-of-saxe-coburn-und.html" target="_blank">their scarlet cousins</a>, CR Nr. VI von Labradoodle's blue-coated hussars are every bit as dashing and uncontrollable upon the field of battle.<br />
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Led by the indomitable Freiherr Adolph von Labradoodle and known colloquially as "Die flauschigen Hüte" they are the envy of all men and the bitches of none!<br />
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<br />Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-80689370984203782102016-12-24T21:25:00.000+11:002016-12-24T21:25:01.481+11:00An Imaginations Christmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"Nothing makes me happier than to see my court enjoying a traditional Christmas Hugo!" exclaimed Herzog Mikhail.<br />
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"Indeed sire" replied General <span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 15.4px;">Generaloberst Hugo von Guus-Steppe. "There's something quite wondferul about a Christmas tree decorated with beets. It's the one thing we seem to agree on with our Northern neighbours."</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 15.4px;">"Perhaps there's hope for us all yet..." mused the Herzog.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 15.4px;">"We can only hope. Merry Christmas sire."</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 15.4px;">"And to you Hugo. Now go home and see your family. There'll be no fighting today. It's time for a little peace."</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 15.4px;">Merry Christmas everyone!</span>Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-90076121598531709972016-11-27T15:29:00.002+11:002017-08-19T17:17:39.634+10:00New recruits to the Army of Saxe-Coburn und BuchholzHeartened by his recent victory at <a href="http://warsofthesablehat.blogspot.com.au/2016/11/action-at-bystro.html" target="_blank">the Battle of Bystro</a>, Herzog Mikhail Johann von Hollerenschaut IV of Saxe-Coburn und Buchholz has wasted no time in using the success to help swell his forces for the ongoing campaign. Consequently two now units have marched out of barracks and into the field this week.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 14px;">CR No. V, von Leightfynggar's Hussars</span></h3>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 14px;">Wild and unpredictable, </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 14px;">von Leightfynggar's Hussars are the envy of their fellow cavalrymen with their scarlet, black and silver uniforms. Womenfolk swoon and lesser men grind their teeth with envy when these dashing fellow pass by...</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 14px;">AR No. 1, von Fuse-leighter</span></h3>
Fresh from the artillery school at Bad Rücklauf in Katze-und-Hundmeim, von Fuse-leighter's Foot Battery refer to themselves as “wissenschaftliche soldaten” or “scientific soldiers”.<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
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With such men as these Herzog Mikhail cannot fail to overcome his Northern foes...Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-21170507140424392762016-11-20T08:04:00.002+11:002016-11-20T08:04:12.478+11:00Action at Bystro!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The phony war is well and truly over! Battle has at last been joined at the village of Bystro on the Eastern coast of the disputed province of Oberer Süßen Bagel, or Nizhny Bublik as it is also known in some quarters.<div>
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The engagement was fiercely contested and despite giving a good account of themselves, Velikye Byelgorodniyan forces were eventually driven from the field in some disarray. </div>
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Victorious troops from the army of Saxe-Coburn und Bucholz celebrated long into the night. Unfortunately, many celebrated too hard and captured Velikye Byelgorodniyan troops were allowed to escape, a costly error that will surely return to haunt the victors in the future.</div>
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What follows are some incredibly realistic artists impressions of various actions during the battle.</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 15.4px;">Saxe-Coburn und Bucholz troops advance to contact:</span></div>
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Velikye Byelgorodniyan forces do likewise:</div>
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Velikye Byelgorodniyan infantry fighting back-to-back having been outflanked!</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 15.4px;">Saxe-Coburn und Bucholz infantry deploy when threatened by cavalry and then drive off the cavalry to record the first minor victory of the day!</span></div>
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Immediately thereafter the Velikye Byelgorodniyan 1st Novi Byelgorod Grenadiers show their quality in routing enemy infantry from the field:</div>
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Velikye Byelgorodniyan infantry see off the flighty Leightfynggar's Hussars, remaining unfazed by the presence of enemy heavies at the same time!</div>
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The battle petering out with all Velikye Byelgorodniyan cavalry and a quarter of their infantry routed. <span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 15.4px;">Saxe-Coburn und Bucholz forces were victorious shortly afterward.</span><br />
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What will happen now? The claim of <span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 15.4px;">Saxe-Coburn und Bucholz for the disputed province has been strengthened by victory however grand Prince Dimitry of </span>Velikye Byelgorodniya will surely not give up so easily...</div>
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Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-80018903106213921572016-10-23T16:38:00.000+11:002016-10-24T06:49:25.793+11:00Subterfuges, Ruses de Guerre, and Other Falsehoods<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was another glorious morning in Novi Byelgorod, as the Grand Prince Dmitry IV embarked upon his third panic attack of the day. <span style="background-color: white;">Pyotr Afanasyovich </span></span>Bibliotekhsky<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">, the Court Librarian, was following the Prince up and down the salon with bundles of maps, attempting to calm the situation. As the scholar was himself of a particularly nervous disposition, this wasn't helping.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The Grand Princess Olga sipped her tea and watched the pair with ill-disguised impatience. This was <i>not</i> how a Grand Prince was meant to behave. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">She had done her dynastic duty to her Prince and husband by producing an heir, a spare, and a daughter who might one day prove marriageable to a suitable ruler. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">She was determined not to risk her life (or her figure) with any more childbearing, and had made it firmly understood that she preferred to maintain a separate household in the East Wing of the sprawling Palace. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ordinarily, she left ruling to the ostensible rulers and declined to interfere in affairs of state, but matters were getting out of hand. She lifted a perfect hand to beckon a servant, and whispered to the footman from behind her fan. He nodded and left the room.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The Grand Prince was now in full flight.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
"The Herzog's letter tells us that they're NOT in Nizhny Bublik! What on earth is going on? Am I plunging the nation into war for no reason? Am I making a ghastly mistake? Or am I imagining all this?"<br />
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"Sire, I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation..." Bibliotekhsky offered lamely. "Perhaps the Herzog has gone mad? There<i> have</i> been rumours of a strain of insanity in his family..."<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_EfIlRINdtPWNRUy122Ip47Ud7WQD8NshKgZlekNP_erMrH-r-ohOBl9TWgJUr4ep6ITC0AFXhJS_wh6Ldp4U_pqlyD108R5DvV4F_KbkdEUWhq8gsHzebsgl0lsn-PG-3jiX59XHGOwX/s1600/BaronX.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_EfIlRINdtPWNRUy122Ip47Ud7WQD8NshKgZlekNP_erMrH-r-ohOBl9TWgJUr4ep6ITC0AFXhJS_wh6Ldp4U_pqlyD108R5DvV4F_KbkdEUWhq8gsHzebsgl0lsn-PG-3jiX59XHGOwX/s1600/BaronX.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Minister for State Security<br />
Baron _____ _____of _____</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The footman reappeared; "The Minister for State Security, Baron _____ _____of _____", he announced, effortlessly pronouncing a succession of blanks.<br />
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A tapestry at the opposite end of the room was flipped aside by the opening of a hidden oaken panel. The man who stepped into the room was dressed in the manner of a nobleman, but entirely in grey, without any of the colour which might otherwise be expected in a court functionary. His garments served only to accentuate his utter lack of distinguishing features.<br />
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Princess Olga, completely unfazed by the unorthodox arrival, raised her voice to greet the spymaster.<br />
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"Ah, Baron ____, so good of you to take time from your busy schedule to not join us!" Bilbliotekhsky dropped his maps in consternation and immediately fell to his hands and knees to retrieve them.<br />
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Prince Dmitry spun about to peer up at the stranger who had materialised behind him. "Who the Devil are you?"<br />
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The Baron nodded in token of a bow. "Your Majesty, I am pleased to act in the capacity of head of your intelligence apparatus," he said in even tones. "However, Sire, I must stipulate that any attempt to confirm my position or role within the organisation, or even my identity, will be met with the most stringent denials. To put it simply, I'm not here, I'm not speaking to you now, and I don't actually exist in any official sense."<br />
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Dmitry's brow furrowed as he tried to take this in.<i> At least he's stopped gibbering like an idiot</i>, thought the Princess. She stood and glided over to her husband, deftly navigating a path around the crawling Librarian.<br />
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"Husband, Baron ____ is here to clarify the current situation in Nizhny Bublik. He has access to sources of information which are completely trustworthy. He will be able to shed light on the somewhat... <i>odd</i> response to Your ultimatum."<br />
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____ smiled a barely perceptible smile, acknowledging the Princess' confidence in his organisation. "Your Majesty is most perceptive. Sire, this is what is known in intelligence circles as 'disinformation'. Falsehood promulgated as fact, to promote the interests of the perpetrator. A <i>ruse de guerre</i>, if you will. Not to put <i>too</i> fine a point on it, the Saxe-Coburnskis are telling whoppers to throw you off balance. Though I dare say that this is obvious to Your Majesty...?"<br />
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"So... the Saxe-Coburnskis have invaded Nizhny Bublik? I'm not imagining things?"<br />
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"Yes, Your Majesty, they have, and no, Your Majesty, you're not. Though it is said that their forces have been invited by their puppet Markgraf to 'protect Saxe-Coburn und Buchholz's commercial interests' quote unquote."<br />
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Dmitry's breathing had returned to something approaching normal. "That's more... disinformation?"<br />
<br />
"Precisely, Your Majesty!"<br />
<br />
"Oh. Good. Thank you for clearing that up."<br />
<br />
"Then I shall return to the Bureau and prepare further initiatives to confound the evil machinations of the Saxe-Coburnskis. With your permission, Your Majesties...?" The Baron strode across the room to a bookcase, pushing it aside and vanishing into the corridor thus revealed. It swung shut behind him with a click.<br />
<br />
"Thank God, Your Majesty!" quavered Bibliotekhsky from his position on the carpet. "It is most fortunate that we can rely on the talents of Baron ____!"<br />
<br />
The Princess' face was a picture of bland innocence. "Baron who? I'm sure I don't know who you might mean,"she said, turning her gaze upon the Prince.<br />
<br />
He looked back at her and the kopeck dropped. "Yes, Bibliotekhsky, who is this 'baron' person of whom you speak? There's nobody here save the three of us!"Evan Hugheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107866906860803155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-6777861780587730742016-10-23T07:29:00.002+11:002016-10-23T07:45:37.301+11:00Meanwhile, inside the war room..."I told you it wouldn't work Hugo!" growls <span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">Herzog Mikhail, referring to the misinformation campaign regarding the presence of Saxe-Coburn und Bucholz troops in the disputed province of </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">Oberer Süßen Bagel. "They might be cabbage-headed but they CAN use their eyes and ears sir."</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">"Yes sire, it appears you were correct after all." replied </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">Generaloberst Hugo von Guus-Steppe. At the sight of a arched </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">regal </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">brow he quickly amends "I mean OF COURSE you were right sire, I simply meant it was worth a try..." [ahem!]</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmXOp724Y0Qxo8dRqllUldbK81ciIVmlYQ3d-uH1wCFeUyNyZmmjfWe3bxbMXB7M3ex_9HbVH0O6v9KRB-alrEKIbFoE77LCBk-MUCe0CCGPLP-ZS3aLFmxKGvZUX22o0jFI-5McuWgWUc/s1600/ToWar%2521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmXOp724Y0Qxo8dRqllUldbK81ciIVmlYQ3d-uH1wCFeUyNyZmmjfWe3bxbMXB7M3ex_9HbVH0O6v9KRB-alrEKIbFoE77LCBk-MUCe0CCGPLP-ZS3aLFmxKGvZUX22o0jFI-5McuWgWUc/s400/ToWar%2521.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Both legible and accurate... <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Clearly not a Gruber original map!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">"Hmmmm..." mutters </span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 15.4px;">Herzog Mikhail returning to the map table, apparently already distracted from what could have been an emba</span></span></span>rrassing contretemps, for <span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">Generaloberst Hugo at least. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">'There's nothing for it then, we'll have to move in. Now where's the damned map?" he demands.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">"This is it, the one with the beetroot for a compass rose and place names written upside down." answers the general.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">"What? This thing? I thought it was a drop-sheet left behind by the painters! No wonder we're at war Hugo. Our disinformation plan is a shambles and our cartographer-in-chief draws with less skill than a... umm... no, wait, it will come to me... umm... Blast! You know what I mean. He CAN'T draw and he has no sense of direction for goodness sake!"</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">"We'll just have to make the best of it sire. After all, if we keep advancing North we'll eventually meet the enemy. Given the amount of vegetable matter they consume we'll have a good two or three days warning before contact. Our only problem will be the men keeping their own food down with the smell..."</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">"Very well then. Who have you put in charge by the way? Someone competent I hope!" says </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 15.4px;">Herzog Mikhail in response.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 15.4px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 15.4px;">"Absolutely sire. I've s</span>elected Generalleutnant Karl Vorwarts-mein-Kinder. Everyone else is on leave unfortunately." replies <span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 15.4px;">Generaloberst Hugo.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 15.4px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 15.4px;">"But he's 102 years old and blind! He can't read anything at all, let alone a map!" cries the Herzog.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, utopia, "palatino linotype", palatino, serif; font-size: 15.4px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: georgia, utopia, palatino linotype, palatino, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15.4px;">"Exactly my point sire..."</span></span>Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-37258551669772304982016-10-22T11:49:00.002+11:002016-10-22T11:51:59.724+11:00War Declared!This morning a courier arrived at the ducal palace of Saxe-Coburn und Bucholz, bearing a a list of demands from the cabbage-loving upstart "Grand Prince" Dmitry IV Dmitrovich of Velikye Byelgorodniya.<br />
<br />
The demands:<br />
<ol><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDpusUiH_Z7DQQkNiop4YWZUR1HnEx8eh7ntkC1rRqVLQp7Wm3oYIaFO5bOl2l5DGPgl88QyXevAOFjcMGbjjr5XoNyfOW8ff-PWv7HgfyS5wpNnO_onDvTMQGv3yXnIDB1gKo1ndLvbVa/s1600/newspaper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDpusUiH_Z7DQQkNiop4YWZUR1HnEx8eh7ntkC1rRqVLQp7Wm3oYIaFO5bOl2l5DGPgl88QyXevAOFjcMGbjjr5XoNyfOW8ff-PWv7HgfyS5wpNnO_onDvTMQGv3yXnIDB1gKo1ndLvbVa/s320/newspaper.jpg" width="320" /></a>
<li>All forces of the Duchy of Saxe-Coburn und Buchholz to quit the province of Nizhny Bublik forthwith.</li>
<li>Markgraf Boris Ivanovich to be handed over to the Velikye Byelgorodniyan ambassadors to stand trial on charges of treason.</li>
<li>Herzog Mikhail to make recompense and pay reparations to the Grand Prince to the amount of 100,000 gold crowns.</li>
<li>All border posts to be restored and repainted in the appropriate colours.</li>
<li>All sable hats to be rounded up and handed over for destruction in a ceremonial bonfire.</li>
</ol>
These shameful accusations cannot stand. In response, Herzog Mikhail Johann von Hollerenschaut IV has the following to say:<br />
<div>
<ol>
<li>At present there are no forces of Saxe-Coburn und Bucholz within the borders of Nizhny Bublik. How can something be withdrawn which is not in place? Clearly Dmitry IV has mistaken his own troops for those of Saxe-Coburn und Bucholz. Perhaps a visit to Gruber's Opticians (not by appointment) is in order?</li>
<li>Markgraf Boris Ivanovich is clearly a Velikye Byelgorodniyan plant. With such a Slavic name how could he possibly be in any way related to Saxe-Coburn und Bucholz? Dmitry IV may do with him as he wishes.</li>
<li>Herzog Mikhail will make no recompense for actions he did not undertake. Regardless, Saxe-Coburn und Bucholz does not use the debased "crown" as it's unit of currency, preferring a <a href="http://warsofthesablehat.blogspot.com.au/2012/11/the-currency-of-saxe-coburn-und-buchholz.html" target="_blank">much more sensible monetary system</a>.</li>
<li>Saxe-Coburn und Bucholz is in no way responsible for the border posts of Velikye Byelgorodniya and will not enter into negotiations or accede to demands to provide trade labour for their maintenance.</li>
<li>You can stick your sable hats where the sun doesn't shine!</li>
</ol>
</div>
<div>
In light of the above and as a consequence of the aggressive posture of Dmitry IV a state of war now exists between Velikye Byelgorodniya and Saxe-Coburn und Bucholz. My God have mercy on our souls.</div>
Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-44721322028481774872016-10-21T22:44:00.002+11:002016-10-21T22:44:34.097+11:00An UltimatumThe winds of war are blowing! Or maybe that's just the cabbage.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLEQNIUk58Cz3ky0GCIyYu10drLXLmVXXj_e1FnKAuns5U6i23F7SEnqsLAHqm3K5f6Zez25MUxv4K-mG2sAY1p6HGE8d2iU-fF1bH_Xu2Jw8O8T2-VAMYfL3oGezGyEJ1B7tKCm8JOj0/s1600/coffeehouse_reading.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLEQNIUk58Cz3ky0GCIyYu10drLXLmVXXj_e1FnKAuns5U6i23F7SEnqsLAHqm3K5f6Zez25MUxv4K-mG2sAY1p6HGE8d2iU-fF1bH_Xu2Jw8O8T2-VAMYfL3oGezGyEJ1B7tKCm8JOj0/s320/coffeehouse_reading.gif" width="220" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the teahouses of the capital, the citizens talk of nothing else.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
An ultimatum is being delivered to Herzog Mikhail of Saxe-Coburn und Buchholz containing the following demands;<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>All forces of the Duchy of Saxe-Coburn und Buchholz to quit the province of Nizhny Bublik forthwith.</li>
<li>Markgraf Boris Ivanovich to be handed over to the Velikye Byelgorodniyan ambassadors to stand trial on charges of treason.</li>
<li>Herzog Mikhail to make recompense and pay reparations to the Grand Prince to the amount of 100,000 gold crowns.</li>
<li>All border posts to be restored <i>and</i> repainted in the appropriate colours.</li>
<li>All sable hats to be rounded up and handed over for destruction in a ceremonial bonfire.</li>
</ol>
<div>
<br />
Failure to comply with these conditions will result in a state of war between the Grand Principality of Velikye Byelgorodniya and the Duchy of Saxe-Coburn und Buchholz.<br />
<br />
The enemy has been warned!<br />
<br />
Now, if only the generals can decided where to strike the first blow...</div>
Evan Hugheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107866906860803155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-60776135156718504872016-10-16T12:19:00.001+11:002016-10-16T13:56:41.468+11:00Tensions mount at the border!The sound of boot heel echoes heavily in the halls of the Ducal residence, followed by an insistent pounding at the door to the conference room. Irritated by the interruption to his morning routine Herzog Mikhail looks up, a frown slowly growing on his aristocratic forehead.<br />
<br />
"What is it now?" he demands of Generaloberst Hugo von Guus-Steppe.<br />
<br />
"A message sire. From the border sire." replies the General. "You remember we sent scouts to confirm early reports of enemy forces concentrating just across the border in Velikye Byelgorodniyan territory?"<br />
<br />
"Ah, yes of course. Well, don't just stand there man, send him in!"<br />
<br />
"At once sire." mutters the General, already turning to the guard and clicking his fingers to indicate the door be opened and the courier admitted.<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">Feldwebel Ulfric Gruber of</span> the Korps von Führern enters, crosses the room and snaps to attention, carefully looking into the empty space between the room's two occupants.<br />
<br />
"Oh. It's you..." growls Herzog Mikhail. "Where's your idiot uncle Franz Gruber then? I'm sure you were sent out together."<br />
<br />
"Ah, well, yes we were sire." stammers <span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">Feldwebel Gruber. "That is, mostly sire. When I could keep him in sight sire. He was right behind me a few minutes ago. I think he turned left at the kitchens. He insists there's a shortcut to here from there. Sire."</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf9X5qJxitQmTZMwKw5LpF-iLgspdUgqGmhhDSUe8Z4jht_pqmsqI_HFTDa6uSro3buaEd08LyNrBNP_w2aCO46KOE-hg3u_60qKPWlT3wn4HDGBsr8jrWH2fU4vQs1m4z_5vecbSSkgTa/s1600/2nd-Glish-Foresters-(of-Blensk).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf9X5qJxitQmTZMwKw5LpF-iLgspdUgqGmhhDSUe8Z4jht_pqmsqI_HFTDa6uSro3buaEd08LyNrBNP_w2aCO46KOE-hg3u_60qKPWlT3wn4HDGBsr8jrWH2fU4vQs1m4z_5vecbSSkgTa/s1600/2nd-Glish-Foresters-(of-Blensk).jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Velikye Byelgorodniyan scouts at the border</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">"Excellent! Some good news then!" replies Herzog Mikhail rubbing his hands gleefully and grinning like a man who's just found out the Beetroot Surprise he had for breakfast actually contained beetroot. "We won't be seeing him for a couple of weeks at the very least. Now we can get on with things knowing if we do go to war it will be against the right people and at the right place and time!"</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;"><br /></span>
Generaloberst von Guus-Steppe descends into a fit of coughing before gathering himself and demanding "Well, out with it man! What's your report?"<br />
<br />
Conscious he's onto a good thing and not likely to get a dressing down after all <span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">Feldwebel Gruber pours out his report in a breathless rush. </span>"Sir! I have to report our information is correct sir. Velikye Byelgorodniyan forces are massing just North of Bystro at Glob. It appears they intend to cross into Nizhny Bublik very soon now sir. At least that's what it looks like sir. That's all sir!"<br />
<br />
"Well done Gruber." replies the General. "You may go now. Don't bother looking for your uncle. That's an order by the way. Do NOT look for him. Is that clear?"<br />
<br />
"Yes sir!" confirms <span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">Feldwebel Gruber. "Crystal clear sir!". That said he spins on his heel and exits as fast as possible, hardly able to believe his luck.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15.4px;">A heavy silence falls as both men contemplate the news. "I told you Hugo, did I not? They can't be trusted. Cursed </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">vegetable obsessed </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">northerners, you just CAN'T trust them!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15.4px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15.4px;">"Yes, sire, you did say that as I recall. Several times in fact. Just this morning." replies </span></span>von Guus-Steppe. "What would you like to do now sire? Send an envoy? Open negotiations? Something else?"<br />
<br />
"Negotiations be damned Hugo. Summon the General Staff. It appears we're going to war at last..."Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-55755657610351217632016-10-15T14:28:00.000+11:002016-10-15T14:28:58.142+11:00Regimental Colour and Uniform of the Kholodniyy Borscht Infantry Regiment<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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The city of Kholodniyy Borscht in the province of Krashdipezantsk presents its own infantry regiment for review.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Known in the province as 'The Unbeetables', the regiment has been raised by the merchants and beet farmers of the city.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
The regimental colours display The Beet Rampant in gold, with the Velikye Byelgorodniyan crown above, and the Cyrillic initials of the city to either side.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicTuCIGLn00hQ2vI-DJVerpsBNhDaGMm4dt-AakFJTPDDoFB-ovxfAXTvxwY6FuC96oeUO5-yRH2pd0vGsfUsKWqLFMjXVKsr9b4aB2Lk289Pld8jm9OWiYGLTrNHywIJ2WKH69qjCQ3R2/s1600/Kholodniyy-Borscht-Infantry-Regiment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicTuCIGLn00hQ2vI-DJVerpsBNhDaGMm4dt-AakFJTPDDoFB-ovxfAXTvxwY6FuC96oeUO5-yRH2pd0vGsfUsKWqLFMjXVKsr9b4aB2Lk289Pld8jm9OWiYGLTrNHywIJ2WKH69qjCQ3R2/s400/Kholodniyy-Borscht-Infantry-Regiment.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The regimental colours are echoed in the soldiers' uniforms, which are dyed using pigments derived from the finest beets. The coat buttons are emblazoned with The Beet Rampant.<br />
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The regimental quick march is <i>The Beet of a Different Drummer</i>, while the slow march is an arrangement of the popular folk song, <i>The Beet My Heart Missed</i>.</div>
Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-31997756095573101442016-10-09T15:30:00.000+11:002016-10-09T15:30:45.550+11:00Regimental Colour and Uniform of the Kapusta Zemlya Infantry Regiment<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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From the province of Kapusta Zemlya, the fertile heartland of Velikye Byelgorodniya, comes the infantry regiment of the same name.</div>
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Variously known as 'The Cabbage Eaters', 'The Trumpeters', or 'The Old Combustibles', the regiment takes pride of place at the green, leafy heart of the Byelgorodniyan military system.</div>
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The regimental colours display The Rose of Byelgorodnyia (known to less poetic souls as 'the cabbage') in gold, with the Velikye Byelgorodniyan crown above, and the Cyrillic initials of the province to either side.</div>
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The regimental colours are echoed in the soldiers' uniforms. Although not visible in the picture, the coat buttons are emblazoned with the heraldic cabbage.<br />
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The regimental march is <i>The Wind That Shakes The Cabbage</i>, a mournful ditty for trumpet, pipes, and surprised horse.Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-18729445866655393112015-03-01T13:39:00.000+11:002015-03-02T07:29:02.507+11:00The 1st Novi Byelgorod Grenadiers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The late winter sun shone feebly over the mist-shrouded city of Novi Byelgorod. The palace parade ground echoed to the tramp of boots and the shouts of drill sergeants.</div>
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Grand Prince Dmitry IV Dmitrovich of Velikye Byelgorodniya , dressed in the green-and-white uniform of a Colonel of Grenadiers, sat atop a splendid grey stallion which only served to accentuate his lack of stature, rather than augment his dignity as the ruler of a mighty state. </div>
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The contrast was made all the more glaring by the presence of Count Pavel Romanovich Peripatenko, the Prince's trusted companion and adviser. Peripatenko, an imposing man in his middle years, sat his horse like an officer of Cuirassiers, though it had been many a year since he had last served in the regiments. The Count was a man of his hands, still able to outshoot, outride, and outfight most younger men, and his gift for languages and ability to navigate the shoals of diplomacy had been instrumental in establishing many a useful alliance.</div>
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The Prince had singled him out more than a decade previously, and had let it be known that he was "to serve and advise his ruler, and act as Ambassador-at-Large of the Court of Velikye Byelgorodniya." The Count agreed to serve as commanded, though he had decided a short while thereafter to add the personal commitment, "and gently persuade our wise and beloved Prince of the consequences of his less practicable notions, for the good of the Realm, of course."</div>
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One of the more practicable notions the Prince had decided upon was the creation of a regiment of Grenadiers, and after six years in his service, the 1st Novi Byelgorod Grenadiers were shaping up nicely. The Count thought that this could only be a good thing, in light of the Nizhny Bublik Incident; the ruler of Saxe-Coburn und Buchholz was already massing troops in the disputed province, and Velikye Byelgoroniya needed well-drilled and well-equipped troops if the interlopers were to be sent packing.</div>
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The Prince gazed upon the regiment with undisguised pride,"What do you think of the new uniforms, Pavel Romanovich? Just arrived yesterday - the Grand Princess thinks they're rather spiffing!" The Prince was something of a magpie when it came to bright shiny things, and braid and buttons were no exception. This lot had them by the bucketload. The Count made a note to stop by the Quartermaster-General's office that afternoon to make sure there was still enough in the budget to cover shot and powder...</div>
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"Indeed, Sire," the Count agreed, "though that's a lot of officers for a grenadier regiment - is this just part of a larger Grenadier Brigade? A parade of their cadets and ensigns perhaps?"<br />
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"What?" The Prince was momentarily baffled. "No, that's the whole Regiment. What do you mean, 'a lot of officers'?" He began to point out individuals. "<i>Those</i> are private soldiers, <i>those</i> are their sergeants, <i>there</i> are the ensigns, and <i>there</i> are the officers..." The sentence trailed off as he saw that something was amiss.<br />
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"Hmmph." Pavel Romanovich was about to speak his mind. <i>He always does that</i>, thought the Prince, <i>just before he delivers bad news</i>...<br />
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"I think, Sire, that the Quartermaster-General may have supplied the wrong uniforms. They're ALL dressed as officers. I thought that was an awful lot of gold braid." The Count's face showed momentary alarm, as though an awful prospect had just crossed his mind. He set his jaw, and turned to his sovereign. "Sire, when the contract was signed for delivery of the uniforms, did Your Highness happen to catch the name of the supplier...?"<br />
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The Prince stared straight ahead, his breath clouding in the crisp air. "Erm... something like... Grubowitz and Sons...?"<br />
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The Count had to draw on all his reserves of diplomatic tact and self-control not to bellow a curse. The <i>Grubers</i>! <i>Another</i> branch of the same accursed family who had made their name as the worst cartographers, composers, engineers, architects and painters in Europe! And this time in <i>tailoring</i>? Rumour even spoke of a French branch of the family involved in the catering trade, <i>Groubeur</i>, but as no reports of mass poisonings had reached the Count's sources as yet, he had dismissed it as fiction. In the meantime though, he <i>had</i> to salvage something from this situation...<br />
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He straightened in the saddle and favoured his Prince with a smile.<br />
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"No matter, Sire; in fact, I was just thinking how very splendid they look. So splendid, in fact, that I cannot but concur with Your Highness' decision to make an anniversary gift of this fine Regiment to your beloved wife, our Most Serene Grand Princess, who will no doubt be overjoyed to serve as their Colonel-in-Chief!" <i>Overjoyed at being put in ceremonial command of a regiment of well-built fellows all over six feet tall, the baggage, but let's be polite....</i><br />
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The Prince seized this conversational lifeline with all the gratitude of a drowning man. "Yes! Truly, Pavel Romanovich, her Highness will <i>love</i> having a regiment of her own! And of course, the <i>Grand Princess' Own</i> 1st Novi Byelgorod Grenadiers will have to be <i>especially</i> splendid!"<br />
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"Brilliant, Sire. And now, I must beg Your Highness' leave, as I will have to visit the Quartermaster to organise a uniform for the new Colonel-in-Chief." The Prince nodded, smiling with relief, as the Count saluted, took his leave and rode from the parade ground. He checked his pocket watch as he passed through the gate. <i>Yes</i>, he thought, <i>enough time to horsewhip that idiot of a Quartermaster and still be home for tea</i>...<br />
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It wasn't going to be such a bad day after all.<br />
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<br />Evan Hugheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107866906860803155noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-79273482914074040292013-11-17T18:16:00.001+11:002013-11-17T18:16:20.552+11:00The Grand Prince's New ClothesAfter months closeted indoors due to the harsh winter weather, Grand Prince Dmitry IV Dmitrovich of Velikye Byelgorodniya and his most trusted aide-de-camp Pavel Romanovich have ridden out together for a much needed breath of fresh air.<br />
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"So, Pavel Romanovich, what do you think of my new coat? Quite the latest fashion and most suitable for a monarch of my stature dontchathink?!? The ladies at court won't know what to do with themselves, I'll be bound!" said Grand Prince Dmitry, ever the fisherman when sartorial compliments are not forthcoming.<br />
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"Of course, sire, it is most fetching. I do believe I've never seen the like in all my days..." replied Romanovich, squirming in his saddle, the little voice in the back of his head already warning him this wasn't going to end well.<br />
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"Ha! Ever the diplomat Pavel. One day you'll tell me what you really think and I'll drop dead from shock! Come now, there's something special about this new coat. I'll bet you a week's wages you can't guess what it is, not that I have any idea what I pay you of course. Go on now, have a guess..." The last sentence hung in the air between them like a string of beets without a horse.<br />
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"Well sire, it must be the buttons. No, hold on, it's the lace. No, wait... It's the fabric. That's it, the fabric is a brocade again, but this time it's doesn't match the curtains in the west ballroom."<br />
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"Faddle. Not even close my boy! Would it help if I tell you WHERE I got the coat?" prodded the Grand Prince. "Let me give you a hint, it's from that new tailor in the Old Town. What's his name? Grambowski? No, that's not it. Groobovshki? Not that's not it either... What the devil is his name now?!?"<br />
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Pavel Romanovich's face turned a shade whiter than normal. "Um, please tell me it's not from Gruberski's sire?!? You DO know he's related to that idiot map maker from Saxe-Coburn und Buchholz don't you?"<br />
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"Is he really? He seems to know his business." replied the Grand Prince. "That certainly does explain why I can't find the blasted special map pocket though..."<br />
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<br />Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-63607275870701253222013-03-30T10:50:00.001+11:002013-03-30T10:50:41.126+11:00The 2nd Glish Foresters (of Blensk)As tensions continue to mount in the "phony war" <span class="caption">Grand Prince Dmitry IV Dmitrovich of Velikye Byelgorodniya </span><span class="caption">becomes <span class="caption"></span>frustrated at the lack of reliable intelligence. You might think he is referring to his general staff and you'd be correct, however in this instance it is news of the enemy's movements he wants.</span><br />
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<span class="caption">Being a man of action he decides to seize the initiative and immediately dispatches a contingent from the 2nd Glish Foresters to the border. They go under orders to return with news of the enemy "...or don't bother coming back!"</span><br />
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<span class="caption"><br /></span>Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-79589126904939096662013-03-25T21:23:00.000+11:002013-03-25T21:25:31.528+11:00The ideal Imagi-nations miniatures?Stepping out of character for a few moments here to promote something really quite special... <br />
<br />
Nic Robson from <a href="http://www.eurekamin.com.au/" target="_blank">Eureka Miniatures</a> has been kind enough to let me preview their new range of 28mm miniatures coming out in a couple of months time. The range is being advertised as "28mm Marshal Follies: SYW", sculpted by Gennady Stupin.<br />
<br />
There are plenty of ranges of fantasy historical miniatures out there but many of them go too far and enter the realms of silliness. These are different. I think you'll agree they are absolutely lovely, packed full of character and animation but without going over the top. I can't wait to get my hands on some for my guards...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzQc7_LngUgU3fPfdOIkjOF4sRCUYw9LY4qOl5HVZ0IePCKUx9RMYG0bE8NSypnYgb9ZlCY1VSewrqSaWaBqhJrDDmsxARD8-LOEXbhpWHuNzdwaacUnfPDG04y3I-eaXXswFYR_k9ulYP/s1600/100MFS09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzQc7_LngUgU3fPfdOIkjOF4sRCUYw9LY4qOl5HVZ0IePCKUx9RMYG0bE8NSypnYgb9ZlCY1VSewrqSaWaBqhJrDDmsxARD8-LOEXbhpWHuNzdwaacUnfPDG04y3I-eaXXswFYR_k9ulYP/s320/100MFS09.jpg" width="309" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVorAkzjxfgpof4rBx0kB6BsIsdyUCYx80biegO4e0EKlwqw_CeHilwv6cej-3grRaphWhMrFO9FpsBI-sp-r0TKWetS-AAa9jEjM983R3lIYc0QEsBmkXABLetBhg1_z6Yo1yzwLWifLx/s1600/100MFS05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVorAkzjxfgpof4rBx0kB6BsIsdyUCYx80biegO4e0EKlwqw_CeHilwv6cej-3grRaphWhMrFO9FpsBI-sp-r0TKWetS-AAa9jEjM983R3lIYc0QEsBmkXABLetBhg1_z6Yo1yzwLWifLx/s320/100MFS05.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
From the promo literature:<br />
<br />
100MFS01 SYW Musketeer at attention (4 variants)<br />
100MFS02 SYW Musketeer NCO at attention (1 variant)<br />
100MFS03 SYW Musketeer Drummer, at attention (1 variant)<br />
100MFS04 SYW Musketeer Standard bearer ,at attention (1 variant)<br />
100MFS05 SYW Grenadier at attention (4 variants)<br />
100MFS06 SYW Grenadier NCO at attention (1 variant)<br />
100MFS07 SYW Grenadier Drummer, at attention (1 variant)<br />
100MFS08 SYW Grenadier Standard bearer ,at attention (1 variant)<br />
100MFS09 SYW Mounted Officer<br />
100MFS10 SYW Canon and three crew<br />
<br />
Figures are sold individually unless a set is indicated. The number in parentheses denotes the number of available variants for that product code. Variants are supplied randomly, but Eureka Miniatures will always endeavour to supply a representative sample.Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-45274749622645183832013-02-10T15:49:00.000+11:002013-02-10T15:49:10.528+11:00Gazetteer of Saxe-Coburn complete!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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At last the day has come when Herr Grüber has completed his masterwork!<br />
<br />
Both halves of the epic two volume Gazetteer of Saxe-Coburn und Buchholz are now complete with the release of <a href="http://warsofthesablehat.blogspot.com.au/p/gazetteer-saxe-coburn-und-buchholz.html">The Gazetteer of Saxe-Coburn</a>.<br />
<br />
It's jam-packed with everything the would-be visitor to the duchy needs to know from local customs and food to celebrity gossip and engravings. Grab your copy today for only 37 Björk plus tax! If you write within the next 6 months we'll send you a complimentary potato at no extra cost.<br />
<br />
But wait, there's more! Not only has Herr Grüber completed the gazetteer, you can also now view the <a href="http://warsofthesablehat.blogspot.com.au/p/history-gross-wurttemstein.html">history</a>, <a href="http://warsofthesablehat.blogspot.com.au/p/blog-page.html">army</a> and <a href="http://warsofthesablehat.blogspot.com.au/p/people-gross-wurttemstein.html">people</a> of Gross Wurttemstein! Don't delay, read today!Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-51850713460371602942013-02-06T08:54:00.000+11:002013-11-10T12:43:10.194+11:00Meanwhile, at the Academy...<br />
The early spring sunlight slanted into the Committee Room of the Novi Byelgorod Academy, illuminating the massive oak table which occupied the centre of the chamber. Three men stood about the table, staring fixedly at the mass of charts spread across its green leather surface.<br />
<br />
The small sad-eyed man in the dark green coat threw down the magnifying glass in exasperation, sending a cloud of dust motes dancing. He looked back and forth between the two other men, his frown giving him the semblance of an angry spaniel.<br />
<br />
"Really, Peripatenko, are you absolutely sure? We would surely have long since heard of the existence of not one, but two foreign principalities in our own region, would we not?"<br />
<br />
The larger of his two companions, still dressed in travel-stained clothes and riding boots, nodded tersely.<br />
<br />
"Highness, I am certain. Lindt und Lindor and Gross Wurttemstein are completely real. I've crossed their borders, I've seen their cities, I've eaten their bloody food. I can't understand why none of the Academy's maps show them!" His gaze skewered the thin, bespectacled man across the table, fixing him with an interrogatory glare. "Perhaps the learned Pyotr Afanasyovich can shed some light upon this geographical anomaly...?"<br />
<br />
"Erm... most irregular..." began the elderly scholar. His pale hands fluttered between the buttons of his worn coat and the curls of his unfashionably long periwig as his eyes darted over the maps spread out before him. "Erm. The political situation in Europe is very fluid at present, Your Highness... in the chaos and hurly-burly of war, some of the smaller states may have gone unnoticed..."<br />
<br />
"Unnoticed? UNNOTICED??" spluttered the Prince. "We've just discovered two entirely new states on our doorstep, TWO, and astoundingly, not one of our maps shows either one of them?" He scuttled around the table and stared up into the face of the unfortunate Academician. "What of your other maps, Bibliotekhsky? Do WE actually exist or is my entire realm a bloody misprint?"<br />
<br />
"Highness, I abase myself before you! I beg forgiveness," stuttered the scholar. "I was given to understand that the maps were of the highest quality! Look at the subtlety of the shading, the clarity of the etching, the signature of the cartographer in flowing cursive script..." Bibliotekhsky leaned over the table, fumbled for the glass and handed it to the diminutive monarch. "It's in Latin, of course, Sire... '<i>Franciscus Gruberius scripsit</i>'..."<br />
<br />
"WHAT?!" Pavel Romanovich strode around the table and stared down at the cartographer's signature. He extended a hand. "If I may, Sire...? The glass?" The Prince handed over the magnifier. Peripatenko leafed through the maps, muttering under his breath.<br />
<br />
"Hmmmph. And this one... and another... Hmmph." He rose to his full imposing height. "Sire, it would appear that the estimable Count Bibliotekhsky has, in his enthusiasm for pretty etchings, failed to realise that the author of these maps is none other than the infamous Franz Gruber."<br />
<br />
The Prince's face turned white.<br />
<br />
"No... surely not..?"<br />
<br />
"I'm afraid so, Sire. Look here, there's a figure of an American Indian at the bottom near Nizhny Bublik, he always puts a couple of them in, God alone knows why... And may I respectfully suggest that I be allowed to take a couple of surveyors out into the field post-haste to ensure that our borders are mapped correctly...?"<br />
<br />
"...Yes... by all means." The Prince straightened, resolution returning to his face. "And take Pyotr Afanasyovich with you. You've been indoors too long, Bibliotekhsky, some fresh air will do you good. Pavel Romanovich, see that Bibliotekhsky is suitably outfitted for the journey. And Bibliotekhsky...?"<br />
<br />
The scholar's face was a study in terror. "Sire..?"<br />
<br />
"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!!!"<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A minor, yet crucial detail...</td></tr>
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Evan Hugheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107866906860803155noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-84407607664296208322013-02-05T22:28:00.000+11:002013-02-05T22:28:46.966+11:00News from the EastHerr Grüber has recently returned from an expedition into the previously uncharted East....<br />
<br />
Leaving Bad Übersetzung in an easterly direction early on Tuesday morning he ventured boldly into what has subsequently been discovered to be the fabled realm of the The Electorate of Lindt und Lindor, ruled by the Elector Wilhelm von Sprungli-Schwarz. Some describe it as a the sweetest nation in Europe and her army mere "chocolate box soldiers".<br />
<br />
After feasting upon the local delights Grüber ventured northwards into the Grand Duchy of Gross Wurttemstein, <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">famous for its beer and sausage and </span>ruled by the enigmatic GrossHerzog Florian Lothar von Wurttemstein. The Grand Duchy has a strong naval tradition (reputedly being the only nation in the region with a navy of any sort) although whether this navy actually exists is a subject of conjecture at this point.<br />
<br />
Both these fledgling states may be found on the updated map in the <a href="http://warsofthesablehat.blogspot.com.au/p/geography.html" target="">Cartographer's Guild</a>. Already there are diplomatic efforts in progress from <a href="http://warsofthesablehat.blogspot.com.au/p/gazeteer-greater-byelgorodniya.html">Velikye Byelgorodniya</a>, a situation likely to further increase tensions with Saxe-Coburn und Buchholz...Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-19145336566062223182013-01-04T12:47:00.000+11:002013-01-06T09:08:05.783+11:00Advice from the Humble to the Mighty<br />
From the Court of Dmitry IV of the House of Mikhailov, Grand Prince of Velikye Byelgorodniya, Grand Duke of Kapusta Zemlya, Hereditary Hetman of the Cassock Horde, Count of Novi Byelgorod, Grand Master of the Most August Order of the Golden Cockerel, and Companion of the Order of the Ancient Spoonbill;<br />
<br />
To Maria Theresa Walburga Amalia Christina, by the Grace of God sovereign of Austria, Hungary, Croatia, Bohemia, Mantua, Milan, Lodomeria and Galicia, the Austrian Netherlands and Parma, Duchess of Lorraine, Grand Duchess of Tuscany and Empress Consort of the Holy Roman Empire, greetings.<br />
<br />
<i>Madame,</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>We must confess some surprise at </i><i>Your Majesty's</i><i> recent loan of some of your loyal soldiers to our southern neighbour. We had thought that the affairs of smaller nations were of but little moment to the empires of the mighty, and find ourselves flattered that </i><i>Your Majesty</i><i> should take an interest in our matters of state.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<i>We respectfully urge Your Majesty to consult your Imperial husband before making any further rash or precipitous decisions, and make bold to remind you of the unfortunate consequences of having failed to do so on previous occasions; the recent unpleasantness in Your Majesty's former domain of Silesia springs most readily to mind.</i><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<i>As Your Majesty has so perceptively observed, our children will, from time to time, throw their playthings from their cradles. At times such as this, it is best to retire to a safe distance, since these playthings may be hot, heavy, explosive, or all three. It is indeed fortunate that </i><i>Your Majesty's</i><i> loyal soldiers have had so much practice in retreating expeditiously from danger, as they might otherwise come to harm.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>While even a shaven monkey may put to flight a Habsburg lapdog, so even a humble Byelgorodniyan Grenadier may clip the wings of the Habsburg eagle if it decides to swoop too closely over our beloved homeland. </i><br />
<br />
<i>Dmitry</i>Evan Hugheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107866906860803155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-46006580405990846862013-01-02T15:53:00.000+11:002013-01-02T15:53:24.835+11:00Reinforcements from our Austrian AlliesFrom Maria Theresa Walburga Amalia Christina, by the grace of God sovereign of Austria, Hungary, Croatia, Bohemia, Mantua, Milan, Lodomeria and Galicia, the Austrian Netherlands and Parma, Duchess of Lorraine, Grand Duchess of Tuscany and Empress Consort of the Holy Roman Empire.<br />
<br />
<i>My Dearest Mikhail Johann,</i><br />
<br />
<i>It is with deepest regret that I heard of the increase in tensions between yourself and your unruly Northern neighbours. Frustrating as these times are, we must understand that these lesser "nation-states" are invariably backward and lack the worldly view of those such as ourselves. At times they will "throw their toys from the pram" so to speak and we must simply do as needs must.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Therefore, in view of the longstanding friendship between ourselves, Francis and I send to you some of our loyal soldiers to support you in your time of need. Do with them as you see fit, I know you would treat my children as you would your own.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>With fondest regards,</i><br />
<i>Maria Theresa.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>P.S. If I may offer you some advice, have the idiot Gruber taken out into the hills and shot. I really don't know what you see in him and if you're to have any chance whatsoever against that upstart <span class="caption">Dmitry and his army of shaved monkeys </span>the likes of Gruber will need to be removed before its too late.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Hugs,</i><br />
<i>Tess.</i><br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSCRKNgydzKXZMoqJOIOK6j5J66RKOBJ-2sFV47QWLcH0BXnc87M_Y6uW5pcYcFf6mo5od7YHR-o6Y2TIysgodY8_QBjukfUO9qM6Nw8DmFTg2Xaqwi4oZrug8ZMhTpBoO7KSkSUxgfkh4/s1600/Austrian-Artillery-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSCRKNgydzKXZMoqJOIOK6j5J66RKOBJ-2sFV47QWLcH0BXnc87M_Y6uW5pcYcFf6mo5od7YHR-o6Y2TIysgodY8_QBjukfUO9qM6Nw8DmFTg2Xaqwi4oZrug8ZMhTpBoO7KSkSUxgfkh4/s400/Austrian-Artillery-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Field artillery</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2aTmjlyQY2_w3CSrNUDSxK3LSSGf7W0VcSEveojH9KjkWaa80RbrTzot9HSIDkYxnAgoFJOqIZBbMvosqNIkAflD4uYad1zb76AW9ASAsgyXB4VC8nQ907PhmqTlopCkwCJ6r4NTGVeGh/s1600/Austrian-Cuirassiers-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2aTmjlyQY2_w3CSrNUDSxK3LSSGf7W0VcSEveojH9KjkWaa80RbrTzot9HSIDkYxnAgoFJOqIZBbMvosqNIkAflD4uYad1zb76AW9ASAsgyXB4VC8nQ907PhmqTlopCkwCJ6r4NTGVeGh/s400/Austrian-Cuirassiers-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">O'Donell Cuirassiers</td></tr>
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<br />
<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-Britannica_2-0"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maria_Theresa#cite_note-Britannica-2"><span></span><span></span></a></sup>Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-82654318390560112732012-12-22T14:36:00.000+11:002012-12-22T14:36:36.004+11:00Generaloberst von Guus-Steppe Reviewing the ArmyMindful that current tensions in Nizhny Bublik could boil over into outright conflict at any time, Generaloberst Ferdinand von Guus-Steppe has ordered a review of the army.<br />
<br />
In accordance with his wishes, the officers and men of Dragoner des Manganovia Blimp (Countess Blimp's Own Manganovian Dragoons) parade themselves for inspection before returning to barracks in march column by squadrons.<br />
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Immediately thereafter, the officers and men of <a href="http://warsofthesablehat.blogspot.com.au/p/army-saxe-coburn-und-buchholz.html" target="_blank">regiments II, III, VI and V of the Ducal army</a> parade in field dress with colours on display. What enemy could fail to shudder when faced by such stalwart troops?<br />
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Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-29547076007982430252012-12-12T13:34:00.002+11:002012-12-12T13:34:43.935+11:00Border patrolAs tensions mount and events more inexorably towards war it seems there is little left to do now but prepare for the worst. Or wurst, if you're a member of the catering korps obviously...<br />
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Out on the border between Ober Kraftwerk and Nizhny Bublik the indefatigable grenzers of IR Nr. X von Blasny go about their work. Led by the dynamic Oberleutnant Wolfgang von Wolf, the grenzers patrol day and night, ever watchful...<br />
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There are Front Rank 28mm Austrians, based as irregulars for Maurice.Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-27242420410807315132012-12-11T08:22:00.000+11:002012-12-12T05:58:27.829+11:00Gazetteer of Velikye Byelgorodniya Now Complete!The learned and well-travelled Count Peripatenko completed his overview of our great Principality on the morning of his departure for Hesse-Kassoulet. He has entrusted me, his loyal secretary and amanuensis, with ensuring its publication.<br />
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As his coach pulled up before his summer residence, the Count pressed the manuscript into my hands with the words, "Feliks, see if you can get this to the printers without that sycophantic poltroon Bibliotekhsky getting wind of it, there's a good lad." With that, he smiled and slapped me on the shoulder, climbed into the coach, and was gone.<br />
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The final chapters of the Gazetteer, dealing with the provinces of Tupoy and Krashdipezantsk, are now published <a href="http://warsofthesablehat.blogspot.com.au/p/gazeteer-greater-byelgorodniya.html">here</a> for all to see and marvel at!<br />
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Feliks<br />
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<br />Evan Hugheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107866906860803155noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-20388000614544528402012-12-09T15:00:00.002+11:002012-12-09T15:03:21.658+11:00Officers of the army of Saxe-Coburn und BuchholzHere we see Generaloberst Ferdinand von Guus-Steppe, general of the army (right), having a last word with Stabshauptmann Gerhard von Blomphfart (left), before he leaves on his diplomatic mission to Syldavia.<br />
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See how the Stabshauptmann waves cheerily before departing? He leaves in good spirits, knowing he has avoided real trouble along the way having palmed off the map given to him by Herr Gruber to a mystified general's aide. Well done indeed!Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6022441257915306727.post-40953204332986921202012-12-09T14:52:00.001+11:002012-12-09T20:39:22.565+11:00Wo ist Gruber? Somewhere along the road from Gört to Klaatü things have gone awry. This is not wholly unexpected however, at least for one of the travelling party...<br />
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"Face it Uncle Franz, we're lost!" sighed Feldwebel Ulfric Gruber, nephew of the infamous cartographer and recently transferred to the newly created Korps von Führern (Corps of Guides).<br />
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"We're not lost, people just don't know where we are..." muttered Herr Gruber in response. "Help me with this map. We'll sort things out soon enough. We can't have that idiot Voltaire publishing any more of his 'Wo is Gruber?' kinderbücher now can we? The Herzog bought a box load of the damn things and gives them to every noble with children that visits him. Most embarrassing..."<br />
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"You're holding it upside down. Again." grunted Ulfric, getting somewhat tetchy.<br />
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"Really?!? Ha! Twice in one day. These Byelgorodniyans really can't make a decent map can they? This would never happen with one of mine." laughed Franz, totally at odds with reality once again. "Right, have a look down that road there and tell me what you see..."<br />
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"I can see the backs of all the trees we walked past just now Uncle." growled Ulfric.<br />
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"Well then, that means it can only be this way..." said Franz turning about face yet again, completely unaware of his nephew picking up a large branch and testing it's weight with a couple of practice swings before following his Uncle with real purpose in his stride at last.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nobody is sure who left the second 'a' out of Klaatü on the sign.<br />At least nobody is willing to admit to it anyway...</td></tr>
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And so it went for the next two days until they were found by a cavalry patrol, half a dozen miles from where they had started out...Millsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17580692168847505881noreply@blogger.com4