NationStates Jolt Archive

Welcome to Caldelaria, esé..

Ramon puts down his cigarette, and tips his sombrero back on his head. "It is good to see you. The old man told me to let you in on a little about this nation, so that's what I'm going to do. If you want to pull off a revolution in this humble little backwood corner of the world, there are a few things you need to know."

Las Reglas

"There are few unwritten rules" he continues, scratching his stubbly beard. "We go by a slow calender, and one turn of the revolution is akin to perhaps a week or month of real time. In that time you may set your men to do anything you consider prudent, from supporting tasks like gathering food, harvesting crops, making drugs to feisty revolutionary tasks like stealing government property, kidnapping visitors, recruiting new soldiers or even attacking government or hostile factions!. One group may perform more than one action in a turn if he wishes, he simply has to state how many of his group(default one 1000 men) he wishes to have perform one single task - So, for instance, a group could send men to process coca, go on a spree of bankrobberies AND attack that pesty haciendo Don Dinero!"

"You will need to give a rough idea of how many men will do what, but exact numbers and unit reports are not needed outside of conflicts of interests, such as when two factions fight one another. Of course you cannot undertake any action your resources and supplies cannot sustain, at least not without. Sending men into battle without guns or dealing drugs without having acquired or processed some first, will not deliver impressive results. Chances of success depend on the zone the action is performed in, how many men are used(some groups may be better or stronger at one kind of action than another) and what other circumstances the game master feels are a factor."

"A group consists of 1000 able men and women, and a few burros. A group can be expected to have enough hideouts, weaponry and supplies to keep at least 7-800 people with guns, shelter and food; but his remaining wealth depends on what he does to get it, in terms of stealing or keeping sponsors happy - One can get more or less members, but when any are lost or gotten, typically because of combat actions or recruitment drives, I(the narrator) will write how many are lost or gained."

The political life of la Republica..

"While I stated that one could process drugs, harvest crops or kidnap and murder people, groups are encouraged(and expected) to think up all kinds of actions for their turns. If killing people and burning villages doesn't get the job done, how about holding a Mariachi band fundraiser with free tequila? Or if your group also has a political wing in parliament, you could host a debate for the opposition and try to rally popular support against El Presidente? Anything goes, you post your action, I determine what happens, both in terms of the group and of the nation of Calderia at large. Being creative will earn you the respect of the other players, who will maybe support you or attack you with renewed vigour, and nothing keeps the blood rolling like El Explosivo!!"

"People are largely poor, uneducated and angry in Caldelaria, and most hold a political view of one type or another. The nation hosts anything from anarchists to communists, over fascists and conservative christian militias, to the League for Monarchy in Caldelaria! The people have seen the light, and they will help or hinder the groups as their conviction bids them."

"Any action has a reaction, and the wise group leader would do well to keep this in mind. For instance, if El Presidente started to build free housing for the urban poor, the communist citizens would be appeased, and lessen their support for socialist groups like FRLNC and the CPF(r). Conversely, if he then started sneaking the government treasury into his swiss bank account by way of "Special Building Permit" edicts, the libertarian and capitalist citizens would be angry enough to run into the woods and join a like-minded armed group."

"Later, some amigos from the various armed groups will come over and explain how they feel the things should be done around here. For now, good luck esé, and Viva La Revolucion!"




OOC

Well, here we go. When I find the time I will post a little more about the zones, government and national armed forces, but I feel like I owe it to you to get the game started. Check the rules above, behave, and good luck :)

If you don't mind, please post a little about your faction in your first post, as well as what you'd like your first action(s) to be for Turn One. Any questions will be adressed as they come, as I've said this is a beta test, so all comments and shit are welcome.

The game starts on a peaceful, sunny day, on the 20th of May, 1967, after a relative lull in international and local tension. The president is consolidating his rule as rebel sentiment grows in the countryside, and the foreign powers are trying to work out ways to influence the small revolution.

If you're not one of the seven players in the game The Calderian Revolution, please do not post, tags or otherwise. You're welcome to telegram me with questions and feedback, but do not interrupt the game, thank you!

THE CALDERIAN PEOPLE'S FRONT (REVOLUTIONARY)

The Calderian People's Front (revolutionary), or CPF(r) was born in a time of extreme trouble for the former socialist party Calderian People's Socialist Party. The CPSP, being a traditionalist Marxist party independent of the Soviet Union, was falling apart as they lacked the foreign funding and militarist arms of other political factions in the area.
As the party's member count dropped by scores every day, the radical Leninist group, formerly being in a stunning minority, began to seize power. Party officials opposing the Leninists were killed in mysterious accidents and police raids, ordinary members were bribed or intimidated into submission. In 65, the majority of what was left of the CPSP was controlled by the Leninists, derogatory called the Tomatos after their leader Tomás Lopez Blanco, though a die-hard group of social democrats, called the Dogs of Carlos by their adversaries, remained in power as they held the posts of Chairman of Party and Secretary of the Party Council.

During a worker's strike at a factory, elements of the CPSP were summoned to support the workers. Amongst the party members there were Ferdinand Sánchez Catalina, Chairman of the Party and unoffical leader of the Carlos faction, his wife (though not legally wed) Catalina López de Sánchez and the Leninist leader Tomás. Absent was Rodríguez Miguel Alejandro, Secretary of the Party Council and Ferdinand's second-in-command.
As the riot squad closed in on the strikers, Ferdinand tried to rally his men to form a human wall between the police and the strikers. The police fired warnings hots, but didn't manage to discourage Ferdinand and his men. The riot squads then proceeded to draw their batons and advance towards the ranks of the protesters and strikers. Somewhere far behind the CPSP proetesters, a stray shot was fired, and the police immediately responded by charging the lot. In the resulting fight, Ferdinand was killed by a shot in the back. Two days later, his wife Catalina was found hanging from a lightpost, with her throat cut. Rodríguez died in a car accident not long after, as he was hit by a lorry.

The increased violence did not go unnoticed however, and the police, fearing a gang war between the two rivaling groups, increased the number of policmeen on patrol duty. As the police began cracking down on their activities, most notably political manifestations and drug dealing, the remains of the CPSP, now entirely in the hands of Lopez, were forced out into the jungle. There Lopéz and his men finally disbanded the CPSP, and formed the Calderian People's Front (revolutionary), an armed resistance groupusing guerrilla tactics to fight what they called hte ''reactionary, capitalist system'' and ''class oppression''.

During the recent months, the Front has gained many new members, more because they are close at hand when someone has grown tired of the government, than any political conviction.


Nowadays, the CPF(r) is ruled with an iron fist by the keader Lopez and his cadre of fanatical Leninists. Information is distributed on a ''need to know'' basis only, and most of the soldiers in the organisation doesn't know what the people in the other platoons do, not until they've read it in the newspaper anyway.
Some people might think that this makes it hard for the Front to acquire new members, but they are wrong. The utmost secrecy and brainwashing makes sure that few people outside Lopez' closest friends know exactly what's going on, and the illiterate country folks can be lured into their ranks without too much difficulty. If a lowly soldier would find out about the less glorious operations of the Front, he will most surely be dead by the next dawn.
Operations that are kept a secret long after they've been completed are, for example, smuggling, trafficking, kidnapping and blackmailing. In addition to the usual killing, of course.



As it was in spring of the new year, it was to time for fund raising. Even a Leninist guerilla can't fight without money, and ammunition for Dragunov rifles is scarce outside of the Comintern. That there were not one, but six rival factions in the area didn't make the situation nay better. The Front needed cash, and needed it fast. Therefore Lopez sent his right hand man, Pedro Gonzales, with 150 men down to the valley, where the coca farmers lived. In these times, cocaine equals money, much money.
The coca leaves would then be processed in the Front's base camp, a network of underground tunnels deep inside the jungle. Once the cocaine was of high enough quality, it would be sold. The money eraned would provide the Front with ammunition, wepaons and, most importantly, food.

Two hundred men would be sent to the outskirts of [zone 18] to launch a surprise attack against any governmental force sin the area, while fifty soldiers, disguised as civilians, infiltrate the town through the road from Los Bananan. Their mission was to investigate the morale of hte workers in the city, to find and recruit anyone they thought would join the Front and, to a lesser extent, saboutage as many government loyal factories as possible.

Enrique Depuerte and Salvador Tameda strike their usual evening pose, hunched over their well-marked and tattered National Geographic map of Calderia to discuss operations. The movement's flag, the hammer and sickle on a green background, hangs on the wall next to some newspaper clippings and various posters. As the bug light zaps and clouds of cigar smoke waft in the hot tropical air, several Cadres sit on the floor, snorting lines of cocaine.

"Damn you, Felippe! How many times do we have to tell you! You can smoke hash but the coke is strictly for selling!"

"Sorry, comrade. It won't happen again."

The FRLNC's two commanders, frustrated with Felippe and his friends, and lacking the inclination to do anything about it, return to their musings on revolutionary strategy. Things have not been going so well lately, the never-ending battle with CRAP for peasant sympathy as depressing as ever, and Ejercito Nacional units conducting ever more bold raids into FRLNC-held territory.

"We must hit them now, and hit them hard, before they attack us again! The government won't be expecting us, and it'll inspire the peasants!"

Tameda takes a long drag on his cigar and waves his hand in a wide arc, indicating disapproval of Depuerte's proposal.

"Enrique, just wait a moment. We're safe as long as we stay here. The army can't touch us here and they know it, especially with the Anarchists and god above knows who else running around. It strikes me as unwise to abandon familiar territory and launch a raid where the army has the defender's advantage..."

"Its no use with you, Salvador! You don't like any of my plans! You must think I'm an idiot..."

"There, there, Enrique. You know we are equals as much as I do. Did I say I didn't like your plan? No, I was just a bit skeptical, that's all. Why, you're a better field commander than most EN officers put together! Just don't be hasty, that's my advice. And you know what, a raid might be just what we need. Those Haciendos are just begging for trouble, eh?"

"That's for certain. How about we send, eh, Andre...with twenty men, a BAR or two...they could shoot up Aguarte's house!"

"Brilliant! A master stroke of genius from comrade Depuerte! I'll head down to the brothel now to collect Andre, and we'll do it in the morning, eh?"

Generalissimo Edward Blackadder put down that morning's copy of the paper, and switched on the old, valve-operated wireless. The sound of El Presidente's voice began to eminate from the speaker.

"Captain Villa, I have an idea..." he spoke, placing his tumbler of White Rum on the desk.

"Generalissimo?"

"El Presidente's voice is greatly annoying, wouldn't you agree? I'm sure the people would like to hear something more... entertaining."

"Indeed, Generalissimo. What did you have in mind?"

Blackadder went to the stack of LPs by the old wireless, and pulled out one by a band called "The Rolling Stones". The title was "I Can't Get No Satisfaction"

"I think this might be more appropriate. Find some reliable men, take some guns and tools, and then take this record to the radio station in the Eastern Slums, and "Persuade" the DJ that instead of El Presidente's latest musings, to play this, instead. Then, loot whatever you can from the Radio Station and bring it back here. If you can persuade the DJ to join us, even better, but don't force him. I think it's time we went into the broadcasting business."

"Over here! Comrade Surenada is wounded, we need a human shield!" shouted Cica Josê, kneeled over the body of the wounded anarchist leader.
"Don't move! We'll get you out of here!".
He sent a burst of short 7,62's to the general direction of the enemy, trying to cover his leader with his body. About a dozen of his men were gathering around him while the rest, nearly 50 men, fired their weapons in rage trying desperately provide cover to the group around Surenada. He was raised on improvised litter made of few sticks and couple of shirts and quickly carried away.

Slowly his men started to withdraw, still doing their best to cause casualties to the Death Squad men, hired by local Haciendista. The operation had been a complete disaster - eleven dead and nineteen wounded, including their uneprecable leader. Enemy casualties remained a mystery but were propably even higher.
Or atleast the EAC warriors hoped, trying to convince both themselves and eachoter. They wanted to have atleast something positive to think about the operation.

It had been an ambush. Perfectly thought and even adequately executed one. Their scouts moving ahead of the main column had been silenced with knives, after which the enemy released a horrible storm of flying pieces of metal at the marching anarchists. Surenada had taken a scratch in his head and gone down during the very first minute. His survival being the most important thing he'd been rescued, and an immediate withdrawn took place.

It was done in surprisingly good order, one might have add, and with well planned manner, quickly causing nasty losses to the enemy who had followed, thinking that the EAC company was already beaten.
This however didn't make the men smile. Even though they hadn't lost their order or courage, it had been a defeat nonetheless.



As a whole, their recent move towards the Farming Lowlands (17) could've been described as a succesive one. Numerous haciendas had been burned during the last two months, and nearly two hundred peasants had enlisted to EAC. Of these, only about half were sent to the hidden camps in Opinian Higlands while the rest continued their lives in their villages, acting as EAC's eyes and ears in the area.
Propaganda was also beeing spread, since almost 150 actives were now living amongst the local population, keeping secret meetings, educating and even secretly training new local fighters. The mos important reason for keeping so many men in such jobs, instead of fighting, was the lack of weapons.
New delivery of Kalashnikovs from Chimera was expected to arrive any time now, but the problem remained. EAC couldn't field all of it's men.

Almost 600 of the thousand armed rebels were committed into this "offensive" in the Lowlands. It didn't mean attacking in conventional way though, but instead of moving as one big unit smaller raids like this recent one were beeing launch, in groups consisting 25-150 men, usually around 50. They went in, attacked and burned haciendas, tried to kill police officers, mayors and such and then disapperaed again to the mountains and "secured villages" again.

Rest of the EAC active troops were mostly in the mountains, training or beeing trained while one company, Compañía Urban (:rolleyes: ) did what the main force in the Lowlands did, their target beeing Estado Montegue.

”Gentlemen... yes, young man?”, he added, speaking spanish with a silly accent, ”I can't quite remember inviting you here. Can't you see that RESERVED-sign just above the door?” spoke him to a corporal of the Ejercito Nacional who had appeared at the exit, wearing a brand new uniform and holding an AK-47 in his hand. Six men with uniforms, undoubtly high officers as the corporal concluded from their badges, were leaning against a desk which was holding a map on it. The young, rather confused-looking corporal began, looking nervous partly because of the situation, partly because of the scary appearance of Rudolf Oberer, who was standing infront of him:

”Well... I've got some bad news...”, started he, trying to look calm: ”It seems that the workers on the fields... Well. They won't work! I tried to convince them about our holy crusade against communists, anarchist and all that kind of bandits, but no. I am asking what to do”, finished the corporal and sighed for relief. Atleast he hadn't gotten bullet between his eyes, and not getting shot while bringing bad news to the leader was a great priviledge.

”Well. WELL!”, shouted Oberer, trying to surpress his anger: ”What do you think that has to do with me, the high commander of our armed forces? You have been given the training for things like this! Besides-”, he added, with a glimpse in his eyes: ”Adress your superiors correctly and show some respect!”
”Ah, I knew it was coming” thought the corporal, seeing that if he didn't continue with the conversation he would get a lesson about respect, honor and that kind of bullshit.

”Yes, that is true... Sir!”, he said, quickly adding: ”But don't you want to hear what they are demanding?”
”If I must.”
”They want tobacco. Pretty first-rate stuff too. The workers are sick of cocaine, and besides, back in the urban they did have tobacco.”
The five high officers had been quiet for the whole conversation, until then. A tall, fat officer with the rank of a colonel smashed his arm against the table so hard that the map on it almost ripped: the colonel's name was Carlito Batista, unofficial son of the former cuban dictator. His name has opened him many doors in OFNC.
”Unbelievable!” His face had turned red. ”How they can do this to us? We have given them a change to fight against the commies and other scum, but no, they want more! Don't we pay enough? Lot's of cocaine and free housing. All they have to do is to work on the fields and, well... populate the land!”
He would have continued, but Oberer interrupted him. ”Thank you, colonel.”
”And you, corporal- dismissed. Tell the workers that they will be given what they want.”
The corporal left quickly as he was afraid that Oberer would change his mind. The general spoke, as he saw his officers to be a bit confused.

”You see, my dear officers... Sometimes you have to give people what they want. It's all about keeping the people happy, and if that cannot be done without giving them a little gift every once a while, so be it.” The officers nodded. He continued: ”In any case, I'm personally in need of some tobacco. You wouldn't deny tobacco from your great leader, now would you?”
Everyone shook their heads, but colonel Batista looked rather angry. He wasn't actually quite pleased with Oberer. However, there was a little for him to do about it.

”Fine then. Let's finish the plans; our intelligence should be able to track down some tobacco somewhere in Caldelaria. I'll be sending out two reconnaisance groups, each consisting of 50 men: they should be armed for swift movement in the jungle. The other group should scout our northern sectors as well as some of the CPF's northern area's southern sectors (14): it's called group A.”
He had a short pause to catch up his breath.
”Group B will be going to our western sectors to scout for enemy activity and, of course, tobacco: they should, however, proceed with caution, as the area to west (20) is occupied by government's troops.” Oberer made some arrows to the map, presenting the two groups: one going north, while the other going west. ”And I want everyone back alive”, he continued: ”We must save our men for a larger operation I've been planning. Batista, you will take care of this one: be sure to equip our men well. Dismissed!”

Guards outside opened the doors and let the officers out. Rudolf Oberer was left alone to plan his great operation, what would be called ”The humanstorm”.

Carlos Rodriguez sits in his chair on the porch in his very nice house, smoking his Cuban cigar and savoring the moment. The only thing he wishes that he had was a better view. This area is basically wasteland, but at least the government never bothers to patrol this area.

Jose Munoz suddenly barges in, disturbing Carlos' peaceful relaxation.

"Why'd you get mad at those men who were growing a little cocaine on the side,” Jose asked angrily?

"I have told you many times already. The CIA doesn't want us to do that kind of stuff."

"Screw the CIA; I don't care what they think about us. The guys were only growing it to earn a little extra money on the side."

"You don't realize that without the CIA we would have very little money or equipment. We get a lot more money from them then we would get from growing cocaine on the side."

"Fine then, but I still think what they don't know won't hurt them."

“We'll talk about that more later, but right now I want you to take a few men over to zone 17 to talk with the Guardia de Liberdad. We’ve been competing with them for too long, but I think we should start helping each other out. They’re better than the commies or the fascists. I just want us to stop fighting each other.”

“Okay that sounds good.”

“And also gather about 200 volunteers and send them off to zone 7. Tell them to see if they can pick up any recruits or “convince” some villages to join our cause. We could use some more manpower. Have them separate into 4 groups of 50 men to cover more ground and make sure someone that we can trust is in command of them.”

“Yeah, I have just the right guys in mind, by the way when are those new weapons getting in from the CIA?”

“That should be soon. I hear we’re getting some new weapons, some M-16s and a few LAWs. They should help with our next big offensive.”

“Cool, I’ll go get those groups organized.”

Miguel San Tómas sat with Julio Monteverde in the back room of the pub, "El Borracho Conejo". San Tómas and Julio Monteverde were both wearing camoflage uniforms, San Tómas still wearing his dog tags from the Bay of Pigs invasion and Monteverde polishing a Colt 1911 pistol. Several of their lieutenants sat around the table, also wearing camoflage, but one man wearing a nice black suit sat facing Monteverde. He began, "Mr. Monteverde and Mr. San Tómas, my colleagues in Corleone wish to offer you their blessing for this little operation you are staging here. They, and I have faith that you will be able to do what is right not only for the people of this nation, but also for our own interests. While the families officialy disapprove of the sale of drugs, we would be willing to aid you financially in any of your business endeavors if you can take control of the government here."

"Thank you, Don Craxxi. We will all profit immensely from this and bring back true economic freedom to the people of Calderia." Said Monteverde.

San Tómas announced, "Our first order of business should be to secure this region. It has come to my attention that Haciendistos are attempting to make inroads in our land. They feel that they have the protection of the government. Cesar, take 200 men and show these stupid farmers how much power the government really has out here. If they want real protection, they need to come to us!" he slammed his fist on the table. Looking around the table he pointed at another one of his lieutenants. "I have a job for you. Find me some good business people. Somebody the Government would not link to us. We need a front. I have friends in Europe and we do need more of these G3 rifles. We cannot just waltz around the world if everyone wants us dead."

"Sir!" Interjected a young lieutenant, "We have some men from from the PLC. They wish to do business with us."

"The CIA dogs? Send them back. The CIA left me for dead in Cuba I will not work with-"

"They have a nice cocaine business." Monteverde interjected. "This could bring us some more revenue. Besides, the Americans would rather see us in power than any of those left wing pendejos"

"Bring them to speak with me, but check them. I do not trust the CIA."

One of the lieutenants said to san Tómas, "Sir! The EAC appears to be making inroads into our land. They are attacking the Haciendistos. They are gaining support among the villagers."

San Tómas exhaled calmly. "Right now, we shall do nothing. If the Haciendistos see fit to pay us for protection, then we'll take care of those EAC bastards. If not, well, we'll let them keep the government at bay. But keep a close eye on things." he rubbed the stubble on his chin. "Come to think of it, why don't you send 50 men to keep watch on the EAC's activity. Be discrete. Find out who their spies are and where they hide. If the government starts to lose, we can rat them out. If the Haciendistos pay their protection, we'll be able to skewer them. If nothing changes, then we'll allow them to live."

OOC: My internet access will be sporadic this weekend, but I'll post whenever possible

((Excellent! Thanks for your speedy posts, all - Not following this sterling example myself, as I'm vacationing at my boyfriends house on another island, where I don't really have that much internet access :(

Am currently processing your posts and will post government and local response at my earliest convenience ^.^ ))

((Describing incidents in the order of players who have posted, ie. Relative Liberty first, Crooked Beat next, etc.))



Estado Chalé y Estado del Sur

The coca farmers are largely impressed with the big showing of armed men on their doorstep, but explain to Pedro Gonzales that the coca harvest is not wholly matured, and that several crops are not ready for processing. Still, bales of the stuff can be plucked now, and the brave freedom fighters from the CPF(r) carry it off to the tunnels.

Stalwart CPF(r) men cunningly trek through Estado Aragon Nuevo(#19) and Estado Mirabella(#20) through the southern wetlands, avoiding contact with FRLNC soldiers patrolling their domain in the former territory. Estado del Sur is largely devoid of government presence, they find (although they do torch a few villages whose hapless inhabitants said they knew who the president of their country was, just for show!) the place controlled by the cruel reactionary CRAP under some gringo named Blackadder. As the two hundred CPF(r) soldiers had made their way through Del Sur, plundering a Hacienda ranch on the way, CRAP wised up, and trouble seemed to be in the air...

Southwards, the fifty infiltrators had more luck with them, probing out two southern villages where the farm community stated its displeasure with CRAP and the government. Where they wanted to grow coca so they could send their kids off to school, now they had to pickle papayas for this Blackadder fellow and get paid peanuts by his foreign backers while they made it big in Europe from their sweat! However, no one felt ready to join the Front (save three brave men who decided to leave their village for Estado Chalé and the CPF), noting that the Front territories were too far away from their families, and if they tried to change their loyalty the CRAP would come and force them into compliance. Still, if the CPF could drive CRAP into the defensive so that Blackadder did not have the manpower to enforce his rule, the farmers would probably back them.

Mutterings about the OFNC’s fascist troopers being seen in the north of Estado Chalé does nothing to improve the state villagers morale, and several village elders appeal to Lopez to do something about it!

Estado Aragon Nuevo

Haciendo Aguarte, one of the few Haciendos left in Aragon Nuevo, had a well-defended farm ranch in the border of Mirabella; and a lot of jackbooted thugs to defend it as well. Although they dug in well at the sight of Guerillas, and did manage to wound and kill some of the hastier FRLNC members who rushed the ranch with their government-issue American rifles, the farm fell in a matter of hours and the FRLNC carried off sizable amounts of cash, jewelry, items d’Art and farm equipment.

FRLNC patrols report spotting what may or may not have been rebels from somewhere in the East( Estado Chalé or the Border Junges, likely) heading through the southern part of Aragon Nuevo and heading into Estado del Sur.

Estado Del Sur, Eastern Slums

A glorious (and largely successful) blow for the democratic revolution! CRAP rebels storm the largest government station, take his most glorious Excellency President Aguilar off the air, and play rock’n’roll music instead! Pro-CRAP sentiment is rising among the urban youth, and Blackadders men make off with most of the lighter broadcasting equipment. However, heavily armed paramilitary and police forces quickly arrived on scene as the rebels left, and one of the rebel teams were reduced to so much blood and guts by machine gun fire!

However, CRAP did not have much time to rest on their laurels, as CPF rebels armed to the teeth with Soviet guns had appeared on their doorstep, attacking government-loyal soldiers in the area and ransacking a Hacienda. How would the People’s Army react?

Las Opianas Highlands, other states

EAC rebels assault the Chimerian Border Forest with great fervor! The large revolutionary force harass the private armies of the Haciendos, looting and torching several ranches – the government-backed ranchers give back as good as they get, but this does nothing but getting them killed and inciting local mestizos and indians to renounce the government and the ruling Guardia Libertad, and announce their support for the Anarchist revolution! Although at a little significant cost in supplies and lives for the EAC, government and Haciendo presence is reduced in sector 17, and is growing smaller by the day.

Civilian ops are progressing smoothly, as the indigenous people feel empowered by the anarchist propaganda and co-operative efforts to create people’s schools, clinics and (of course) barracks, are hampered only by the poverty of the highlands. Corrupt chimerian soldiers agree to supply AK-47 assault rifles and 7x62mm ammunition to the rebels soon, but they want to be paid in Caldelarian Pesos for their efforts!

Operations elsewhere, however, meet with little success. Reacting just now to the rising activities of the EAC, several Ejercito Nacional ‘regimientos’ are entering Estado Montegue; setting up street fortifications and evacuating civilians, at the same time as the Compañía Urban arrives. Little progress is made as the disciplined army infantrymen and heavy weapons teams wipe the streets clear of EAC guerrillas. Certainly it is only a minor setback, amigo, but also a very large and bloody one to be sure. Ay Caramba!

Border Jungles, other states

OFNC troops make inroads in CPF lands, but are unable to make significant intelligence gains on the People’s Front. Interrogated villagers say something about guerrilla movements in the south, but it seems unlikely that further knowledge can be gleaned without risking open conflict with the Leninist soldiers.

Estado Mirabella is another matter. The OFNC troop manages to hold op and ransack an entire farm for tobacco and coffee before the army corps can be alerted. Fast-moving mechanized troops inflict some casualties on the retreating troopers, but such is perhaps to be expected. Farmer and Peasant morale is on the rise, amigo! Everyone enjoys a good smoke! Colonel Batista seems less than pleased with Oberers ideas, but is happy to take credit for the operation.
Wastelands

The small group safely infiltrated the Chimerian Border Jungle, desiring a meet with the Guardia Libertad.

The four groups of PLC rebels manage to make good gains, as several dissatisfied villages declare loyalty to the Party, growing crops for them and send their young men(numbering about eighty) to join the Libertarians. However, it is not possible to venture too far north before people are dead set on remaining loyal to the president. Not out of decisive loyalty, mind you, but government and haciendo forces are simply too strong in the area that they’d risk their neck. Perhaps if the ranchers could be beaten back they would consider it…

Chimerian Border Jungle

The 200 Guardiaristas find themselves in a pickle with regards to consolidating LGL rule in the sector. On one hand the haciendos are practically crippled by the EACs harassment warfare and would make easy prey, but on the other hand many villagers in their lands are considering siding with the EAC who have made a strong showing. Initial strikes on the Haciendas yield good loot, and send the ranchers packing. Then, one night, a small group of men in beautiful jackets and large hats stand unarmed before San Tómas and Monteverde. “Senors, we know when we have been beaten. We can pay La Guardia well if you will cease your attacks and help us against the anarchist guerrillas! More so than the one-time rewards you would get from killing us and stripping our haciendas. We see it as a good offer, no?” “Viva La Libertad!” an enthusiastic Guardiarista yelled behind them, startling the haciendos, and received a cuff around the ear from his commanding officer.

Later in the day, a small group of armed men from the Partido Libertario del Caldelaria made their way before the Guard, asking for an audience.

New Caldelaria City

His exceptionally benevolent Excellency, El Presidenté Mario Hannibal Hugo y Francisco y Dominguez y Aguilar is furious! Our great leader has had his speeches, vital for national health and security, replaced by rock music, and the good-doing Haciendos under his rule suffer attacks by rebel scum! In a speech today, his Excellency declared a curfew in all urban areas, and stated that NO Caldelarian citizen, under ANY circumstance, is allowed to mingle with rebels or suffer them in their village. Informing on rebels is important, and if such rowdiness continues, his Excellency may consider declaring Martial Law.


((There we go. Please respond to each others actions as they pertain to you (For example, Roycelandia must decide how to react to the CPF(R) inside his territory, and the various offers about allegiance and cooperation must be addressed. Then describe how you react to the things that have happened to your group, and then we can move on to turn two.

My sincere apologies for taking so long to respond, it won't happen again. Also, the RP is a bit shabby on my part, but I will improve it! Not having enough time does this sort of thing, and I'm really glad that you bear with me :D ))

Generalissimo Blackadder was both pleased and saddened at the news of the raid on the Radio Station.

"See that the families of the dead men are well looked after. We shall pay all the necessary Funerary expenses. See if Fr Mendez is available on Friday to lead the service."

Meanwhile, a small group of CRAP men have been sent to some of the wavering farmers in Estado Chalé y Estado del Sur, explaining that the sale of Coca will also end up in rich businessmen's pockets, but without benefitting their children, as the money will not be returned to the schools and the community the way CRAP's profits (after expenses) are.

Further, Villagers are encouraged to air their greivances, in the interest of communication. "Beware he who would deny you access to information, for in his heart he dreams himself your master!"

As for the CPF- Blackadder is a Businessman, and so he adopts suitable tactics. The leader of the CPF is invited to a lunch (and by invited, think Men In Suits With Sunglasses And Driving Cars With Tinted Windows), whereupon some sort of deal can be worked out in which CPF stay out of CRAP's territory, and vice versa. Failing that, someone's likely to wake up with a Donkey's head in their bed one morning...

(OOC: Question, should i create another thread to hold my chat with the LGL so it doesn't clutter this one?)

Carlos was pleased with the volunteers that they had gotten from zone 7. He would make sure that they received special treatment for a while to solidify their loyalty to the PLC. He would train 50 of them to become part of the military wing. The other 30 would work on the day to day business of the party like logistics and things.

Once those new weapons come in from the CIA, he plans to send some troops to rough up some of the government-backed haciendos in zone 7. Hopefully that would convince some more villages to join the Party.

He was also glad that the LGL had accepted his request for an audience. Hopefully they could get things worked out and if that happened one flank would be secure.

Estado Aragon Nuevo

It had been a while since FRLNC took casualties, and the jubilation that would normally be felt upon the capture of such a troublesome hacienda is considerably dampened once it becomes apparent that, in addition to five wounded men, four cadres were killed. Still, Depuerte and Tameda regard the operation as a success, and the money and redeemable goods taken from Aguarte's compound will fund the purchase of several additional machine guns, and perhaps even an RPG-7. Aguarte's hacienda is smashed-up before Commandante Andre and his twenty raiders set off through the woods, carrying their wounded on stretchers fashioned from a broken-down fence. The dead are buried where they fell.

Elsewhere, scouts begin to report certain uninvited armed parties near the FRLNC's home turf. Depuerte immediately suggests setting-up ambushes, but Tameda's discretion holds out once it is clear that the scouts aren't sure who they are, and are certain that they aren't government. Without much in the way of communications equipment, the FRLNC doesn't know much about goings-on amongst other rebel groups, and Tameda in particular is eager to learn about other anti-government movements.

Of more immediate interest, however, is how to follow-up on the successful hacienda raid.

"The capital is mere miles away...I'm sure its the last thing the fascists will expect, eh? A strike right at the heart of the whole military-capitalist monster!"

"Its risky, Enrique, very risky. What's the last time we've been in the city? '98? That's the last time I've been there. But I think it is actually a pretty good concept."

"The volunteers can do some looking-around, I'm sure. They spend enough time there. What are you thinking, targets wise?"

"Hmm...mabye...police station might be misplaced. I'm thinking about motorcades."

San Tómas sat at the end of the table, nursing a small glass of Tequila. "Things are unfolding in a rather interesting manner." The table in front of him was strewn with maps and photographs. He had several sheets of paper and was compiling a dossier. "It would seem that the Haciendistos now know who is truly in charge here. We must however, keep to our word and clean up these left-wing pricks in the area. It would seem the government has an interest in stamping out the EAC from our region. I feel that it may be time to show el gobierno what we have been able to discover about the EAC movements." He stuffed the papers into a briefcase and slid it across the table to a young soldier. "Take these to Los Estados Fuerzos. Don't let them see that you are armed. Tell them that they are a gift from their friend Miguel San Tómas. It will be useful to have friends in the military in the near future." He motioned for two more men to escort him. They moved swiftly out of the bar and lept onto their motorcycles and took off into the night.

Monteverde stared out the window at the rain that was just approaching. "My sources tell me that elements within Chimeria wish to supply our enemies with some heavy arms. Unfortunately, we do not know who, or how they plan to smuggle them in, and it would be unwise if we spread our activities too far beyond the borders of Calderia. We will need to import more weaponry for ourselves. Miguel, any word from your European friends?"

San Tómas was slightly annoyed. "The government crackdown on people's interaction and mobility has made it difficult to create business fronts. We are going to try to bring some in anyway, but it will be risky.

"Why not try those guys who work with the CIA?"

"I don't like-"

"I don't care. We need the guns."

"Fine."

The two sat in awkward silence for a while. San Tómas broke the silence. "For now, the EAC is our biggest problem. We need to hamper their movement." He pointed to the door to the basement, which held a secret cache of weapons. "In there are some old landmines. My friends in Europe said the Americans used them in the last great war there. Scatter them across all the roads except for the ones we can control. Take the 200 men we had harrasing the farmers and send them plus another 100 to watch whose going where. And have the men grab any EAC agent that shows his face."

Monteverde mused, "What if we were to put a bounty on the head of EAC agents? We can show the people that those who are loyal to us will be greatly rewarded, and we can use the capital that we gained from our protectees."

"Good idea."

A soldier walked in. "Sir! We have a small armed party claiming to be from el Partido Libertario."

"CIA dogs. Julio, can you handle this? I'm going to go handle the arms situation and organize the roadblocks."

"No problemo." he turned to the guards, "Bring them in, but search them."
Monteverde turned to greet his guests as San Tómas ducked out.

Estado Mirabella

"Wait for me, amigos! I've got this damn box on my shoulder, I can't keep up with you."

"Who would have known! Pedro, I know you're such an idler. But carrying a box of tobacco isn't a big deal..."

"Just shut up and watch my back, Diego. I can't reach my piece while holding this..."

The conversation was interrupted by their group leader.
"SILENCE, BOTH OF YOU!"

He appeared to be listening for something.

"I hear engine sounds. They're after us. The army. Chavez!"
"Sí?"

The soldier put the crate on the ground and stood up.

"Go inform Ramos about this. Ask for orders and tell him that squad D will cover their retreat but requests backup."

"All clear." The private left.

"And the rest of you: ready your weapons and set up for an ambush. We cannot let the government's troops to get past this point."

Squad D did the little they could to fortify their positions.

After several minutes private Chavez returned with a box. A couple of soldiers were following him. They were carrying some explosives.

"Report in."

The private tried to catch up his breath.
"Ramos wants us to defend this point until the rest of the group gets safe. He sent us these six men, couple of satchel charges and some cocaine. There's enough for all of us. And as for the tobacco, we can keep it. Want me to share the coke to the soldiers?"

"You do that. From now on, you are the second chief around here. Congratulations."

The cocaine was shared among the soldiers. Everyone took some, expect the officer, Hose Morino. The propaganda had had an effect on him.
As the engine sounds came closer, the officer gave his order.

"Everyone, be ready. Here they come."

There they were, some fifteen men against mechanized elements of Caldelarian's national army. However, the atmosphere was relaxed. The soldiers even told jokes to each other. The cocaine had done it's job.

It wasn't long until the enemy troops showed up. The squad and it's reinforcements did all they could to stop the attacking forces, only to be completely annihilated in their positions. They had fired all their bullets, and even managed to damage one APC's crew with three satchel charges linked together and blown under it.

But most importantly, they had bought some time for the retreating forces, which didn't take casualties at all. The smokes and coffee reached the stronghold.

Stronghold

An officer walked in the officers' barracks. General Batista sat there. He looked the officer interestingly.

"Section leader Ramos reporting in."

"Go on."

"Group B caught a farm by surprise and took all the coffee and tobacco we could carry. Shared sparingly, it will last for months."
Both Batista and Ramos were pleased with the operation- it had went well. This succesful operation would indeed strenghten Batistas position within the officers.

"Very well. Did you suffer any losses?"

"We lost fifteen men. They covered our retreat."

"Fine, they filled in their task then, as rest of you returned. You may go." Ramos left.

Oberer's command HQ

Batista knocked at Oberer's door and stepped in. He reported the group B's situation.
"Group A didn't get much mileage out of their reconnaisance mission. They returned home intact."

Oberer seemed to be in good mood. He didn't care much about the A groups situation, as long as there were smokes. He congratulated Batista for his succes.

"Good. You see, the tobacco is really important for us. It keeps our army in good mood. The losses were quite sustainable, and I've got still plenty of men for my operation."
Batista nodded and asked for further orders.
"Now that we have tobacco and coffee, our next goal should be a large offensive. I will inform you and other generals when I get around to it."
"For now, order our men to fortify defenses and send some squads to patrol our sector for enemy hostilities. Any enemy agression must be answered swiftly. Now, I would like to be left alone."

General Batista left to fullfill his duties.

OOC: I will be travelling in the baltic countries 13.4-17.4, so I won't be able to post here during that time: that's why I didn't make any big moves in my post today. However, if there's anything you'd like to know before my trip, I will be able to reply tomorrow. (Wednesday) Hope this isn't a too big problem for you guys.

OOC

I'm giving this a couple days to catch up with all players.

No Taxes>> Here you go: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=478175

Here all inter-factional talks, heated debates, bribery, insults and general chaos can be wrought( provided it has to do with inter-factional diplomacy - any decisive actions by any faction will have to be posted in THIS thread, or it will be ignored.)!

Things were developing well. Quite very well indeed. Pablo Surenada lit another cigarette, and leaned backwards, reading a recruitment reports of his subcommanders and glancing over the big, wide map - originally made for and owned by Calderalian Army - on the table.

During the weeks after the beginning of what was now called "Battle of Lowlands" EAC had burned almost thirty haciendas and liberated dozens of vilages, even though only the Northernmost of these were "permanently" free, under continuous EAC governing that is. Couple hundreds of young, frustrated men full of hatred towards the ruling class, in which they included both landowners who were exploiting and oppressing them and the government who did nothing for them, except taxing what little these poor people managed to save from the greedy haciendistas had also joined the ranks of the anarchists.
EAC's activists who were sent to recruit these men where actually amazed how easy their task usually was. They had received some training and education about propaganda-spreading and giving speeches, but this was rarely even needed. As they entered the villages, bearded, rough and rugged-looking men and young and beautiful female soldiers, assault rifles hanging over their shoulders and pistols under their belt, they needed to say wery little.
Shouts like "Viva la Ejêrcito Anarchista!", "Vamos con Surenada!" and "Hasta la Victoria Siempre!" greeted them from the beginning, and cheering crowds of children followed them in the streets of every village they visited. Willing men and, perhaps surprisingly, numerous women also formed a line in front of the building they set their "enlisting office" in, and entered one by one to be shortly questioned about their reasons for this decision of joining, their family, education (a short test was also made to see if they could read, write and figure numbers) et cetera. Then they were taken out of the village, and an improvised physical tests were made.

Not all of those approved were however taken to the mountains. Surenada sighed as this eternal problem, everlasting lack of weapons came to his mind again. Some sort of a relief was the recent deliverance of 236 AKM's from Chimaera. Without the widespread corruption in the military of that country would EAC most likely been unable to continue its armed fight for liberation.
Despite this, it continued to face great disadvantage when fighting against forces of Calderalian military and La Guardia Libertad. The latter had taken place more and more often during the last days, and troubled the EAC leadership greatly.

GDL was clearly going to fight EAC out of the Lowlands. First sign of this were the small minefields popping up here and there. Anarchist troops naturally suffered very little by straight casualties, since the local peasants who were always the first to walk in the roads, walking to their fields early in the morning quickly passed the information.
However, since the support of the locals was indeed the reason for the whole presence or EAC forces and that support was gained by promising to protect and liberate the peasants these actions of GDL had to be stopped. This inevitably led to fierce fighting around the road areas. Those cursed right-wing bastards had the obvious advantage of holding the initiative. They decided where to fight, and when. On the other hand, the recently built network of recruits that were left to live in their villages was quick and effective in delivering information about the movements of cowardly and despicable miner bands.

In many cases those "agents" weren't even needed - every peasant could clearly see who were the ones trying to make their life harder and cause death and suffer to the innocent, and who were the ones that were doing their very best to stop this. No matter who it was to first notice a group of GDL soldiers, he could be expected to leave immediately to contact known EAC local recruit or guerilla stationed in the village, who then delivered the information ahead. This was the best possible propaganda for EAC.
People were integrated to the anarchist organization, shading the division between guerillas, local recruits and ordinary civilians, and they could see with their own eyes what the war was about. Not that there weren't any setbacks though.

Numerous recruits had been captured and shot, revealed by some greedy individuals. Haciendista and GDL were seemingly cooperating during these operations, but the promised rewards for the names of anarchist activists were such that even those who hated those almost as much as the ones they were about to expose were sometimes ready to sell their souls for cold cash.
Counter reaction was naturally immediate - traitors had to live in constant fear of getting lynched by their fellow villagers or shot by the guerillas.



Surenada put the reports into a folder and threw that into his personal safebox. He yawned and touched the gauze covering his wound in his temple. The pain made him to snarl, and annoyed for his own weakness he stood up and walked out of the tent. He glanced at his watch and hurried his steps. He came right in time to see his newly formed 11th Company form a column in the road. A road that led to South, to reinforce the six companies in there with 100 fresh men.

"What the hell! Comrades, it looks like you were going to picnic of some sort! Jaqcues, Jacques... are you really calling this bunch of schoolboys an EAC company?"

His last words were appointed to the Cica Jacques, one of his oldest friends from the Legion. Scarred Belgian anarchist, who had spent 15 of his 30 years in military forces of all sorts, turned from his men to face his commander. He looked a bit worried at first, but after seeing the laughing face of Surenada he gave a wide smile, and answered;

"Nono, you've misunderstood! Were about to go hunting. That's why we have these muskets and everything..." he said, showing his Kalashnikov.

"Oh, right. What is it that you're goin to hunt then, if I may inquire?"
Surenada replied.

Jacques spread his arms, and answered with a loud voice to make sure the whole column would hear it;
"FASCIST PIGS, NATURALLY!"

ooc

I know I promised some of you that I'd have a post ready tonight, but I'm knackered and have to get up early tomorrow. I aim to have the post up by tomorrow night - sorry for the delay.

Estado Chalé y Estado del Sur

CRAP delegates will find their diplomatic ouvertures received quite warmly. Many youths, particularly in Estado del Sur where many villages own radios and heard the president's voice replaced by the 'Stones, are appreciative of Blackadder, many even calling the charming rogue General Benévolo del Sur, often adding Arriba! in a merry, drunken fashion. In both states, minus the two villages below, people agreed to continue CRAP programs, producing legitimate crops such as banana, papaya and pineapple for Blackadder.

The southern villages, however, are recalcitrant; stating that they consider the offer made by the CPF(r) a valid one, and kindly requests that the CRAP men leave again while brandishing hunting rifles and farming implements in a threatening manner.

((Royce, take your meeting with the CPF(r) in the "Wheelings and dealings" thread, there's a link higher up.))

Wastelands

The young men take to their assigned training tasks with great fervor, somewhat quickly displaying skill at arms and tactics, while drinking tequila, stealing pigs and generally making a nuisance of themselves!

The CIA requests a meeting, and the envoy, a nervous-looking guy in a suit, explains that his U.S. government backers has requested that the PLC take more decisive action against the government, through public vocal opposition and armed attacks against government forces. Why this is so, is of course classified. If the PLC won't comply, perhaps their brand new assault rifles might not appear after all..

Estado Aragon Nuevo

Several fences are happy to take the loot, and a mysterious jolly fat man in a Cuban officer's uniform appears and explains that he'll happily exchange their goods for RPK machine guns, bullets, and perhaps an RPG if they're high rolling!

Volunteer scouts poking around the Caldelarian capital discover that not all police stations are indeed guarded. Motorcades are rarely spotted, but poorly guarded banks and money transports might be feasible targets. However, they saw many army troops, paramilitaries and the odd tank on the streets, and many members seem scared at the prospect of attacking the capital proper.

Chimerian Border Forest, Estado Fuerzas

The LGL members escorting the plans to Estado Fuerzas were eagerly greeted by a smiling generals, who gratefully took them, proffered cigarettes to his new friends, and then laughed manically as they were knocked unconscious and borne off by soldiers. No LGL member or informer has been able to gain information on what has since happened to them.

Mines are spread heavily across the lowlands, although many are found by indigenous villagers who alert their friends in the EAC. A few traitors take the bribe however, and slip LGL information on the whereabouts of those EAC forces they've seen as well as a list of people they know to be loyal to the EAC.

Border Jungles

The men and farmers under Oberer's command indeed appreciate the gesture, and many take to their tasks with renewed vigour( while smoking a big cigarillo, of course!).

Patrols are out in force, and the indigenous Death Squads agree to help Oberer's men with patrolling the area for subversive elements and enemies.
Also, aided by the populace, wooden forts and trenches are constructed along the areas of the jungle.

Los Opiana Highlands

One night, men in Chimerian army fatigues crawl the border and appear in the highlands. Bringing AKMs in backpacks and on donkeys, they demand to "See the Dinero, esé", in their own funny Chimerian dialect.

Unfortunately, there seems to be a very slight increase in people who fear LGL presence and desire to inform on EAC before leaving the area. One such was discovered and lynched, but not before he could give a list of all the EAC sympathizers he knew to the Guardiarristas.

New Caldelaria City

The president spoke on national television today, denouncing EAC attacks on Haciendos and government forces; and every Caldelarian who supports the anarchist cause. Commenting on the EAC itself he said "Anarchy? Heeh, that's a stupid nation. Who is going to tell the lazy Opianan peasants what to do if they have no leaders? Preposterous!", while smoking a very large cigar with a beaming smile. He added that citizens would be spared the governments interest if they left the highlands, and that new intelligence had made retaliation easier. The president's speech ended thus: "If the EAC does not surrender to government forces, they will regret it, ay!", and as he leaves the podium, three English Electric Canberra tactical bombers flyi overhead, leaving little doubt as to what is inferred.

Some soldiers are spotted leaving the capital by faction scouts, and are headed towards Estado Montegue judging by their general direction.

Miguel San Tómas cracked his knuckles. His men sat in the basement of "El Borracho Conejo", which was converted into a giant armory. "I am not happy by this turn of events." Across the table from him were several gruff and heavily scarred men. "I sent for you because you are my best. We served together in baya de cochinos, and I trust you will handle this task with extra care." The ten men nodded. One, with a scar running down his left cheek asked, "What do you need from us?"
San Tómas breathed calmly. "Some of my men went to aid el gobierno in their hunt for anarchists. They came in peace, and were captured." He turned and yelled "Pedro" at the door behind him. "Un momento." A muffled voice responded from behind the door. "Anyway, What I need you to pick up their trail and find out if there still alive. If they are, bring them back. If you cannot rescue them, then silence them. I do not want 'His Excellency' to have any idea of what we are up to." The door behind him burst open and a powerful stench of ammonia and solvents filled the room. A man emerged, with a burned stump for one arm and the other arm clutching a large box. His face was covered in burns and he had an eyepatch. "Hey ese, I got what you want. Its those old phosphorus grenades with some gas and magnesium, some sawdust as a thickener..." Most men were clutching their noses and coughing. He shut the door. "Anyway, this thing, you just wind up the clock and you got two minutes. When she goes boom, there'll be a radius of about 10, maybe 15 meters, where she'll burn at about 3000 degrees. I added a thickening agent ot the gasoline-magnesium solution, so it can take a little beating, but don't play football with it." He set the package down on the table and wandered upstairs for a drink.
"Also, find out which general captured my men, and give him this. I don't want them to find his remains. My men came in peace, and this prick thinks he can just pick them like bananas? Show the world what happens when you try and walk all over my men."
The crew stood up, and one picked up the box and walked upstairs.

***

On the patio in the back, Monteverde and his men watched as the team took to their bikes and tore off. He then looked at his men. "I think its time that we paid a visit to our farmer friends." He procured a list of names. "These are the people we know who tied to those silly anarchists. Take them out into the woods and shoot them all. No survivors. Afterwards, go pick up our tax from the farmers. We've kept up our end of the deal, so I expect a 15% increase in payments. Any less, well, shoot them, take their wealth and give their land to those who helped us. Now go!"

As about 200 rallied together and marched off to the farms, Julio and Miguel met in the bar. "We've been muddling around in our corner of the country for too long. El presidente and his goons think they are untouchable, but they really are losing their grip. On the ground, we have no chance, but if we strike them in the heart a few times, they will certainly fall." Julio stroked the stubble on his chin, "I hear the German is considering making a move on the capitol. We should send some men to meet with him, see if we can't work together." "I like that, Julio. I'll send some men immediately." "Also, I think it is time we checked on the spirituality of these people. Everyone knows that these communists are Godless. We should visit the local clergy. Hell, if we get the Bishop in our pocket, we can have our side preached from the pulpit." "Very good." He chuckled. "I'll send some men immediately."

That evening, a small party was sent out to Oberer's camp and another group was sent to offer protection to God's worldly representation.

Estado Aragon Nuevo

Depuerte, although initially intent on modernizing the FRNLC's dated arsenal, decides at the last minute to purchase more M1919 machine guns instead of RPKs, but does indeed go for a pair of RPG-7s, along with several 105mm artillery shells and grenades. The volunteers' less-than-optimistic assessment of targets in the capital proves no obstacle to Depuerte, who was heard to declare, "I'll make the bomb myself and plant it on the pigs' own doorstep," after a characteristically long and ineffectual argument with Tameda. Since nobody is about to endorse his plan, Depuerte sets about making the bomb, by himself, and very nearly blows himself up. The bomb he comes up with is fairly simple; two otherwise useless 105mm shells placed side-by-side in a wooden box, rigged with an electric timer and triggered by, of all things, an alarm clock. A bank is chosen as the device's target, a relatively small and less well-guarded institution outside of the city proper.

Calderia City

After being to the capital by bus, disguised as a suitcase full of fresh fruits, "for my newly-wed cousin," it is tucked into a trash can and set for detonation in two hours, giving its jittery and visibly worried, and thus rather conspicuous, volunteer carrier, possibly enough time to make his escape through areas less carefully patrolled by police and army units.

OOC: I hate to be pain, but I'm not sure I'm going to have time to devote enough attention to this RP... I'm working full-time, studying, and writing, so it's a bit hard to do all three, AMW, and this. I hope everyone understands, and I'm sorry if it causes any problems!

Three companies of Ejercito Nacional were standing in a column and watching Oberer having a speech in front of the soldiers. He stood on a wooden box and had a soldier holding a megaphone for him. The speech had come to the climax, where Oberer used to sum up everything he had spoken.

"Men of OFNC,” he boomed.
“For long we have been silent. For long we have lived under the government's pity. The bolsheviks say that they are for the people, while they are only ruining the economy of our land. The libertarians say that their actions will make the people of Caldelaria free and improve quality of life, but they tell only lies. The anarchist aren't any better with their "stateless country"."
"But Organización Fascista-Nationalista de Caldelaria has gotten stronger! With the new brave members joining our ranks the Ejercito Nacional de Caldelaria is more powerful than ever. Our great efforts in the fields have made our economy stronger than ever. I say it is time to strike! With a direct strike we will deal a powerful blow to our worst enemy, the goverment and it's head, Mario Hannibal!”

Loud applauds and shouts “OFNC!” echoed as Oberer left the stage. He noticed an adjutant running his way.
“General! Men from GDL. Do we wish to negotiate?”
“The democrats? What are their intentions?”
“They wish to discuss possible cooperation. Shall we accept them?”
“Yes, bring them over. I’ll be waiting in my bunker.”

Death Squads were hired as mercenaries and farmers were bribed in order to get some of them to join OFNC’s army. The economic situation of OFNC was slightly affected because of the military politics: farmers were drafted in service. As the army grew larger, Oberer’s confidence grew aside. And now with the GDL’s proposition everything seemed to be going quite well. Soon it would be time for an assault in the capital, maybe in cooperation with GDL.

Until then, army units were being deployed on the jungle’s border and organised into attack formations. New weaponry, like 60mm mortars bought with high money from europe were introduced in the army for the call of heavy weapons. If the other factions stayed out of Oberer’s way, there would be no problems. Especially now when the negotiations with GDL were initiated, as Oberer hated cell tactics. Damn Tito.

OOC: GDL, let us continue in the other thread.

The horror of this scene that laid open in front of the eyes of the men of 7th "Kronstadt" Company was beyond describable. More than 60 people, men, women and kids not older than 15 had been beaten and slaughtered, then piled up and left to rotten in the jungle. They were all from the small village of Pazinocente, and guerilleros recognized many of them. They had been alerted by a 8-year-old girl whose parents - teachers of the village school - had been dragged to the jungle.
She had secretly followed his brother several days earlier when he had delivered a raport to the camp of 7th Company, and had followed that same path in this horrible night too. Her brother, who happened by an extremely lucky accident to be in that camp at the time, didn't first believe his little sister. The story was just unbelievable.
A great unit, "thousand men with guns" like she said through the tears or desperance, had surrounded and entered the village, kicked doors in, dragged people out and marched them away. No wonder his brother couldn't believe it at first. The village was one of those considered to be "permanently" in the hands of EAC, and located not far from the first hills of Opiana Highlands. How on earth could those despicable fascists just start policing villages, HERE?! He nevertheless ran to the tent of Cica Josê, quickly explaining the situation. Dazed and somewhat confused anarchist leader wanted to see the girl too, and personally ask what she had seen. It took only few minutes, after which he woke up the whole company.
This girl wasn't joking.

7th rushed through the jungle, covering those several kilometres between the camp and Pazinocencia in less than ½ hours, but it was too late. Desperate, shocked little girl hadn't been able to run too fast. More than three hours had passed already since the villagers had been shot.
And there they now were. Massacred. They were all either anarchists, communists, socialists or just people who had somehow opposed Haciendistas, GDL or El Presidente in public. This village had had a great percentage of EAC supporters, and it was no wonder that more than half of its inhabitants had been considered hostile by the GDL gunmen (several survivors had identified these troops). But slaughtering them all?! This was truly something EAC hadn't expected. However, there wasn't too much time for wondering. Those bastards were still close. After quickly intervieving the rest of the villagers, naturally shocked and extremely upset, Cica Josê sent fe w men to alert rest of the troops in the region, more than 700 men that is, few more to the Highlands to inform Surenada, and about a dozen or so to protect the camp and help out the villagers in burying their murdered friends and neighbours.

The rest, 82 men, ran after those animals, those incredible barbarians that had no conscience or moral. Despite his rage and his men's desire for revenge Josê was not however going to just ran at the enemy. He knew where they were heading, the village of Másvíctimas. There they would be caught and tied to battle, long enough for reinforcements to arrive. Josê didn't know how strong unit he was going to face, but he didn't care. They wouldn't leave Lowlands alive.

Not after what they had done.

OOC: GDL, let us continue in the other thread.

OOC: I'm posting there right now.

OOC>>

Just wanted you to know that I'm not dead or anything, and that I think you guys are doing a great job writing-wise! I'll be in Leipzig till 6/6, so unless I have access to internet during this vacation you will have to wait a bit for an update. Feel free to play out your scuffles in the meantime, as long as it doesn't involve control over government forces.

- Tias / AC / Neo-Anarchos.

"You dumb bastards want anarchy! I give you anarchy." The man stood screaming at the villagers. Behind him was every man woman and child that they discovered had so much as loaned a match to the EAC. He pulled out an old service revolver and pointed it at the head of the nearest prisoners and fired without flinching. "You ignorant farmers turn your backs on everyone, including God himself. This is all your fault! Your sons, daughters, mothers and fathers now pay for your sins!" He fired his revolver into the skull of the next communist. "Your Marxist leaders have abandoned you! You labor so hard for them, and when it is time to fight, they run like cowards!" He gestured with his hand. Several other GDL soldiers took out their rifles and fired into the line, all of their faces like stone. All, but one who vomited and lay down his rifle. The man who had been screaming at the villagers walked up to him. "Who are you? You neglect the aims of those who bring freedom, because you are too cowardly to spill the blood of our enemies?" The revolver came out and after a flash, the bullet exited through his forehead and he lay still on the ground. The shouting man stood looked all the carnage around him and the visibbly terrified villagers. "If you ever come to your senses, you will seek the protection of La Guardia!"
Another soldier came up to him. "Sir! EAC soldiers are approaching! Fast!"
"And you aren't killing them? Go and stand with your bretheren like a man and show these people how useless those swine are!"

******
OOC: I felt like putting in a soliloquy, or at least a window into my leader's minds. Please forgive the profanity.


"Miguel, our men are moving in cognito to the cathedral in Estado Montengue. they've been informed about the increased presence of the gobierno, but if we can get the Bishop in our pocket, then we will be much stronger. The increased revenue from the haciendistos will allow us to be fine patrons of the church."

Miguel San Tómas sat quietly as he nursed a small glass of rum. "I hate this." He was visibly drunk. "I hate this business. I was a banker. I was a fucking banker!" He downed the glass, and poured himself another glass. "I hate this bullshit!" He took a large gulp straight from the bottle. "All I wanted was an honest way to make some money. You and your fucking Corleonesi! Your just like the CIA, you drag me into this shit and..."
"Fuck you! It was your idea."
"No. Craxxi suggested it to me. I just wanted my banks. I wanted my fucking banks back." He raised the bottle to his lips once more. "I'm just a businessman. Those socialists come and steal away all my hard work. I busted my balls on my parents' farm here, I worked years before I could go to America, I bused tables and built skyscrapers in the day and went to school at night, I got my diploma, I go to college, again I bus tables and drive taxis when I'm not in class, I lick boots on Wall street after I graduate and I finally I meet my backers and put together my banks. These farmers here say they have nothing. I had nothing either. For ten years I had a shitty room in a flophouse and a speed addiction. Hell, I couldn't even afford speed for those first seven years." He emptied the bottle and moved onto his glass. "When I finally got to a doctor, he said that the stress alone had emaciated my heart. But I had my banks. People trusted me. People had f-f-f-faith in me." He listed to the left side of his chair. Righting himself, he continued, "They take everything I had and everyone celebrates. I hav-hav...I fight to get what is mine back and I'm the one who has to kill. I can't contin-" He fell out of his chair. Julio lifted him up and berated him, disgusted. "Pull yourself together. This is your home! Your fucked up man." Miguel breathed, "I'm not the only one." and passed out.