**This game is finished now. Can't wait to do the next one**
This is probably more of a journal of how a game progresses with some insight into what goes on in my head, rather than a proper AAR.
Images and saves will be added, and posts edited lots probably as I learn how to format things etc. I am pretty new at this, I feel, even though I have over 200 hours playtime I still have not won a game, so it might be a bit random - hope that is ok.
Hopefully there will also be a more storified .pdf, with some more fleshed out character arcs and backstory available here when I have finished it.
Anyway - hopefully something entertaining to do while the AI is thinking.
I am just going to do Unclassified Planet, Small-Normal size, with random history, drop-me-in-a-game.
Code: Select all
Fog of War: Complete
Human Players: 1
Initial Zones: City State
Initial Armies: Militia Only
Story Modules: All
Tech level: 3 with Air Force enabled
Development Speed: Normal
Organisation level: Supreme Command Council only
Difficulty Level: Regular
Here is how the planet turned out...
Starting Fates are 1000 Credits, 50 Political Points, Militia Loss of Faith and Ancient Archive.
Starting Strategems are Recruit Merc, Recruit Junior, Incr Income Tax, Decr Income Tax, Send Spy, Open Contact and Church of Syndic.
Now I am going to look over the reports and see what the staff is like....
**Prologue**
deMangler stared at the piles of disorganised paperwork on his desk.
'This is not my paperwork', a part of him kept protesting.
'This is now my paperwork', another, smaller, part of him kept responding.
The intermittent rhythmic thumping was not helping him think, but it was very atmospheric in a 'gently rub your temples and try to focus', kind of way - which was good because that is what he was doing.
It was also atmospheric in the sense that the thumping itself was the result of the corrosive hurricane, that was this planet's actual atmosphere, rattling a loose panel somewhere on the other side of the four-inch thick bulkhead that was the outer wall of his new office.
He poked at a smallish pile of papers that looked least likely to start an avalanche if he disturbed it. The words 'bad supply' and 'low morale' slid into view, under the words 'Military Formation Issues', under the words 'General Urgent Issues', under the words 'Overview of Urgent Issues'. There was clearly more of this sort of thing, ready to slide into view should he venture to poke further.
He kind of had the feeling that somebody had already taken off, nuked the place from orbit - because it was the only way to be sure - and disappeared into the closing credits, leaving him to clear up the mess.
There was a knock at the door.
'Come in'
A robed person entered the office, backwards because they were burdened with an armload of something so that it was, in fact, the only way to open the door. Turning to face and approach the desk revealed a young-ish person apparently looking for somewhere to dump the cardboard box they were carrying.
'Just put it on the floor - thanks'
The person hesitated, clearly taken by surprise.
'Anything else Sir?'
'Else?'
'These are the quarterly Empire department overviews you requested, Sir. If there's nothing else...', The person switched from slightly distracted efficiency to defensively holding holding the box, 'I apologise your office was not cleared - you are a little... early...'
'Early?'
'Yes Sir, ah sorry Sir', The person switched from uncertain shuffling to actual fear, 'Of course I mean I was unaware of your schedule Sir. Sorry sir. Secretary Leo Carbonrock reporting for duty sir.'
deMangler stood up himself.
'Pope deMangler. Officially recognising Secretary Carbonrock.', he relaxed back into his chair. Observing his new secretary he could see the man had a distinct air of authority under his respectful manner - could be useful.
'That is all the ceremony we need for now Carbonrock, we are all Popes here. At ease. You are correct - I am early - there was a radiation leak on level four which meant I had to miss a meeting with the Economic Council - I want you to re-schedule that.'
'Yes Sir',
deMangler looked with relief at the desk for a moment before sweeping half of it clear of papers.
'Well, pop the box on here then and have maintenance fix that bloody loose panel.'
Starting Save