Nestor Makhno bursts forth from the barn, with fire in his eyes. "To arms, to arms! We will not be caught sleeping!" People stop what they are doing and look to their Bat'ko. Dark shapes slumped against hay bales stir and show themselves to be punks, previously passed out from intoxication. "What's happening now?" Comes the median response. "Pontus is invading, rouse yourselves to arms!" Bellows Makhno. All of a sudden the barn yard is a hive of activity. Makeshift spears and pitchforks are hefted by the villagers, groggy punks pull themselves to their feet and withdraw a selection of switch blades, metal knuckles, and thick chains. Alexi appears at Makhno's elbow. "Bat'ko what can I do?" He asks, trying to keep the fear from his voice as the sound of war drums grows louder in the distance. "Bring me the following men immediately: the doctor, and tell him to bring Marchenko's nerve medicine; the foul smelling, bearded, monk called Grigory; Igor Popkin and his men the Ramonesanovs; and tell every military man you see to make their way to the main road between Hulaipiole and Ekaterinoslav." Alexi knuckles his head, and speeds off, releived to be heading away from the drums, for now.

"The rest of you; I need masons, carpenters, cooks, and a stong garrison for the capital, and as many archers as we can get to the shores to prevent their armies from landing. Do not wait, go now! Tell all you see, we fight for our very homes, and our lives." As Makhno continues shouting direction Bilash emerges from the barn, with Marchenko following at a reluctant distance.

"And what adventures do you have for us, dear Nestor Ivanovych?" Inquires Bilash, excitedly, slapping Makhno on the back.

"For you dear Viktor, only the most dangerous, for I know you will accept no less. I must ask you to take what men we can spare to hold the former Hungarian city of Kassa. I fear due to the Latvian land grabs in the area it will be cut off should our defence of Ekaterinoslav fails. You must hold the city at all costs should it come under siege, this should buy us enough time to reinforce in the east and sweep the enemy from our lands."

"A worthy mission indeed." Nods Bilash grimly. "I will not fail you Bat'ko. I will depart immediately, the road will only grow more dangerous with each turn of the hourglass." The two men embrace with much mutual back slapping, then Bilash turns gracefully on his heels and walks off into the night. As Bilash dissapears Makhno hears him roaring:

"You lad, saddle those horses, we're going on an adventure!" Makhno turns to Marchenko.

"You are with me friend, it is up to us to stay here and fight for our home. We must find bows, you will have the defense of Hulaipiole, while I go to the shore. Take the workers, and one hundred armed people, and make haste for the commune. I will send the doctor to you once I am done with him."

"Yes Bat'ko Makhno, thank you." Marchenko's gratitude is greater than his friend could know. Whilst doubtless defending the commune is the most honorable of commands he will be away from the heaviest fighting. For now. His frayed nerves relax a little. And he in turn embraces Nestor and takes his leave.

At this moment, or shortly after, Alexi reappears at Nestor's elbow.

"I have brought the men you requested Bat'ko Makhno." He tells Nestor breathlessly.

"Thank you Alexyvych." Smiles Makhno kindly. "If you hurry you can catch Marchenko, he is heading to Hulaipiole. I want you to learn from how he establishes the defence." Alexi knuckles his head, and Makhno's heart lightens a little as his young charge runs off to relative safety.

"Commrades," he addresses the seven men, who loom in the darkness before him. "I am pleased to see you. These are grim times and I have need of you all. First, doctor your job is simplest; leave me some dressings and what tools you can spare, take the rest of your supplies to the commune, we will send the wounded to you for treatment there."

"As you say Bat'ko." The doctor replies, and wanders off to decant items from his cart to the barn.

"Grigory, I have heard you a great propagandist, that you have an almost entrancing power over the people. I would make use of this to rally our disparate populous to arms. They lack a unity of purpose and you may be able to persuade them to act in our mutual interest."

"Thank you Nestor Makhno. If my words can be of use in this most troubling of times then they are yours." The stinking monk simpers. "I will journey to the north east of the free lands and bring you a crusade the likes of which you have never seen." Grigory rubs his hands together as he speaks. Nestor still doesn't like something about the man, but the longer Grigory speaks, and rubs his hands, the less Makhno cares. "It is only through understanding that we are all made in God's creation, with equality and unity of purpose, can we embrace the true cooperation of anarchy." The monk continues.

Nestor feels a little affronted, this last was unnecessary, a waste of words and time, but he also balks at the implication. He opens his mouth to correct the monk and finds himself staring at the hands rubbing one another dryly but noiseless and saying:

"Yes, very good."

"Well then, I will go. Good luck Bat'ko." The affectionate term, meaning father, sounds wrong coming from Grigory's mouth. Bitter and sardonic. The thought passes as quickly as the monk into the night.

"What about us dude? You know we don't wanna miss out on this gig. We're all psyched up to seek and destroy, man!" Snarls Igor Popkin. Makhno snaps to, unsure if it has been seconds or minutes since the malodorous monk left.

"Ahh Iggy, you are fast becoming a favourite of mine." Makhno smiles at the straggly-haired, shirtless soldier. "You are to be rewarded for your bravery and loyalty with your own command. You are the person I trust most to defend Ekaterinoslav. You will take the troops on the road and proceed to the city immediately. It will be a dangerous mission but you are, how is it? A 'real wild child'."

Popkin laughs loudly "You bet your sweet ass, man. Gimme danger any day, I'm bored with the scene round here, man."

This time Nestor laughs. "As you say, no fun."

Popkin turns to the Ramonesanovs. "You heard the man, man. It's a death trip, but tonight we ride. This is the moment, pure chaos awaits dudes." He growls

"Yeah, this is it," grins the gangly Joey Ramoneanov, "the Blitzkrieg bop." The others shout their assent, and in turn dissapear into the night. As they form into a straight line to march they pick up a strange chant:

"Hey-ho! Let's go! Hey-ho! Let's go!"

I came back from DragonCon with a couple of neat statuettes, a nice leather belt, aaaaaand an upper respiratory virus. So, the audio narration will probably have to wait until the weekend. I'm doing good, but an hour or so of talking would probably be pushing it a little too far.

You know, I don't think this McGregor fellow is taking this seriously.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TCnDaAcUCA8

CBRX Season 4: Episode 22: Abandonment of Peace

Image Album Narrated by Rhoze

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Season 4 Megathread

An asterisks in the final categories indicates they technically aren't hitting the penalty limit, but are very much on the brink. As always, you can peruse the full table at this link: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1dbEll5KbCZnFDrRejZCYmdP93z_91Xz5efwP_fUT0mM/edit?usp=sharing

​

• Military W: Faroe Islands (23,723); Bora-Bora (16,540); Mexico (15,655); Sierra Leone (14,398); and Pontus (13,210)
• Military L: Royal Hungary (1,702); Burgundy (1,226); Mamluks (1,065); Dai Viet (838); and Kazakhstan (263)

​

• Production W: Goguryeo (560); New Holland (539); Faroe Islands (509); Selkups (441); and Yellowknives (434)
• Production L: Alaouites (48); Mamluks (36); Dai Viet (26); Florida (25); and Kazakhstan (9)

​

• Production per city W: Finns (36.4); Saba-D'mt (36.3); Mamluks (36); Visigoths (35.5); and Ecuador (34.9)
• Production per city L: Faroe Islands (14.8); Mogadishu (14.5); Dai Viet (13); Wahgi (9.4); and Kazakhstan (9)

​

• Effective Science W: Goguryeo (636); Wahgi (567); Ikko Ikki (528); Faroe Islands (526); and New Holland (484)
• Effective Science L: Royal Hungary (68); Dai Viet and Mamluks (50); Makhnovia (31); Florida (24); and Kazakhstan (20)

​

• Currently Unhappy Civs: Mogadishu (-2); Wahgi (-16); Faroe Islands (-19); and Taino (-20)
• Currently Bankrupt Civs: Mamluks (-3); Dai Viet (-5); Florida (-52)

Available slots for the fifth batch of narrators in September / October.

If you are interested in becoming a narrator for an upcoming episode, and will be available for the time interval above, use the following link to register.

Sign-up Form: https://forms.gle/3NycqvTuKShsFVnB6

If you are selected, instructions on how to proceed and pick from the dates available will be provided (Discord account is highly encouraged to group chat easily).

Early.

Krusty Krab pizza

Is the pizza

If you don't care about a negative Michelin Star rating

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qSvW0KUVz5A

CBRX Season 4: Episode 21: Scams, slams, and damns!

Image Album Narrated by PlatonOfGlaucon

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Season 4 Megathread

Hello r/civbattleroyale!

Democraciv is a gaming community on reddit and Discord which plays Sid Meier's Civilization games using model governments. We combine gaming, roleplay, and political simulation. Our community is among the largest in the genre with ~5000 subscribers. We have persisted since 2016 and have even been featured on notable sites like Kotaku!

We are currently in the lead-up to our 12th game. Over the next few days, we will vote to decide which civilization we will lead through the ages!

Our community plays a single-player game with all in-game decisions decided by a simulated government. We have everything a real government has: A constitution, elections, and political parties.

In Democraciv, there are many ways to play and have fun. For example, you can

• Run for office
• Create or join a political party
• Make propaganda
• Create a newspaper and write articles about in-game events
• Play chess or diplomacy with community members
• Write bills to be voted on by the legislature
• Join a government agency

This time around, our government structure will be a directorial republic, a classic structure which we have used several times before with great success. The legislature will pass bills to guide the Executive Ministry as they play the game. The Supreme Court will settle disputes between the government and its citizens.

Now is an excellent time to join. Make your voice heard in our civilization vote and ongoing constitutional convention!

Help us build a civilization to stand the test of time!

Links:

• r/democraciv
• Democraciv Discord

Every 5 episodes, I do a brief on the tech count leaders, so strap in folks! An asterisks in the final categories indicates they technically aren't hitting the penalty limit, but are very much on the brink. As always, you can peruse the full table at this link: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1dbEll5KbCZnFDrRejZCYmdP93z_91Xz5efwP_fUT0mM/edit?usp=sharing

​

• Military W: Faroe Islands (22,324); Mexico (16,140); Bora-Bora (14,325); Thule (13,210); and Sierra Leone (11,864)
• Military L: Royal Hungary (1,817); Burgundy (1,624); Mamluks (966); Dai Viet (802); and Kazakhstan (144)

​

• Production W: Faroe Islands (622); Goguryeo (489); Thule (420); New Holland (387); and Latvia (373)
• Production L: Alaouites (50); Florida (36); Mamluks (24); Dai Viet (14); and Kazakhstan (12)

​

• Production per city W: Bavaria (38.2); Shang (37.3); Ecuador (37); Saba-D'mt (36.3); and Florida (36)
• Production per city L: Bora-Bora (13.7); Taino (13.1); Wahgi (12.6); Kazakhstan (12); and Dai Viet (7)

​

• Effective Science W: Goguryeo (670); Wahgi (534); Faroe Islands (486); Ikko Ikki (485); and Thule (476)
• Effective Science L: Florida (69); Royal Hungary (51); Mamluks (39); Dai Viet (38); and Kazakhstan (23)

​

• Tech Count note: As of Episode 20, the mean tech count is 35.93; the Median 37; and the Mode is 38
• Tech Count W: Wahgi (46); Faroes and Bora-Bora (44); Ikko Ikki (43); Goguryeo, Yellowknives and Siam (42); and Singapore, New Holland, Zheng and Nivkh (41)
• Tech Count L: Finns (30); Eswatini (29); Kalmyks, Royal Hungary and Florida (28); Kazakhstan (27); and Alaouites and Mamluks (26)

​

• Currently Unhappy Civs: Selkups, Wahgi and Finns (-1); New Holland (-2); Faroe Islands (-18); and Taino (-21)
• Currently Bankrupt Civs: Mamluks (-9)

Makhno paces the barn frantically, awaiting the arrival of Marchenko and Bilash. He kicks a bit of gravel towards the door, and nearly stumbles out of carelessness. At that moment the big Cossack bursts through the barn door. Makhno tries to compose himself, but is shocked again by the countenance of his old ally. There is a look on Viktor's face as black and cold as the Ukrainian night behind him. As he steps a few paces into the barn Marchenko becomes visible on his periphery. The smaller man is wringing his hands and Nestor cannot tell if he is merely overshadowed by the size of his companion or if he is intentionally trying to hide behind him.

"Bat'ko Makhno I'm afraid to say I bring grave news." Bilash reveals glumly. His usual good cheer no where to be found. His embrace comes without a slap on the back.

"Yes. I have heard advance parties tell of the loss. I must know the detail." Makhno implores the men.

"Well, Strategos Makhno, it is a complex tale." Squeaks Marchenko. Bilash snorts in derision.

"No, it is simple." He overrules Marchenko without so much as turning to him. "We were swindled Nestor. They had us good and proper." The big man chuckles grimly. "A Latvian fith columnist joined our officer corps. He fed the enemy information and led his troops into reckless incursions. The Latvians fell upon them, slaughtered them, stole the officers uniforms then returned to the fortifications under the guise of being senior command of the newly instiuted dictatorship. The men didn't know the supposed officers from 'Adamski' as they were trained in special collages away from our camps. When a formal peace envoy arrived they signed away the city on dubious authority. We had no means to keep fighting so we had to accept." Bilash has walked to the small table and opened the bottle on it himself, pouring a glass as he spoke. He now empties it, and charges it again, empties it, and charges it again.

Makhno's bottom lip has disappeared under his mustache as he chews it nervously. He stops to open his flask, pauses for a second as if unsure, and then drinks deeply. He gestures for the men to sit, still silent, searching for some wisdom that can bring them salvation.

Bilash sits down at a chair, before launching the vodka bottle to a still standing Marchenko. The man looks terrified, more likely to break than the glass bottle he has no hope of catching. His arms shoot up in the air, he cuts half a pirouette, before stumbling on a stone, landing on the straw floor with a dusty thud.

Makhno's eyes jump wide in disbelief and desperation. Behind him Bilash starts to bellow laughter, one hand on his belly, the other slapping the table. He rocks back on his chair, growing red in the face. He splutters, kicks out, and careenes to the floor, landing like a stone catapulted into a castle wall. Makhno turns to the big Cossack, who is still laughing, pounding the floor with both hands.

Nestor, remembering their previous encounter laughs bitterly to begin with, but quickly he is guffawing along with his big friend until he too is floor bound. It is Marchenko's turn to look aghast.

"Relax comrade," Makhno tells him between giggles, "It can't possibly get any more ridiculous than this..." He turns back to Bilash, and throws the downed man his canteen. "This is mushroom tea, Igor Popkin came by earlier and made me a gift of it. I have no choice but to embrace the absurdity of this all, join me."

Viktor rolls his eyes, sits up, and shoots Nestor a mock salute, before taking a swallow of the tea

"They shot Pike!"

"Well, I guess Kirk's in charge."

I got new glasses today. Looking schnazzy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sQcGTR6Xmy0&feature=youtu.be

CBRX Season 4: Episode 20: Pike and Shot

Image Album Narrated by SiegeSquirrel

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Season 4 Megathread

Posting here for the subreddit to see, rankings are released and just need to be uploaded. Expect them soonish, no ETA because it depends on when someone is available to upload to the site.

Do we riot or did I miss an announcement?

Viktor Bilash's horse is lathered and near exhaustion as the big Cossack arrives at the smoking outskirts of Rezneke. He rears back on the reigns and halts his heaving horse as he see Oleksiy Marchenko. Viktor slides from his saddle landing heavily, but sure footed behind an apoplectic Marchenko who is currently shouting the odds at a ragged group of soldiers, gesticulating like he is trying to summon rain. Marchenko stops mid tirade and spins on his heels in the mud to see Bilash. Oleksiy is shaken, he has let the big man ride up on him unnoticed, he could easily have been an enemy scout, and the thought of having to lead this broken band into battle is too much for his nerves.

"Comrade Bilash," Marchenko smiles weakly and offers the big man a terse, but fraternal embrace. He big man's hands pounding on Marchenko's back nearly wind him, and he wishes he could sink into the churned earth that is slowly obliging his boots this, but only at a few millimetres a minute. "As you can see things have..." His sleep deprived brain searches an endless emptiness for the word "...deteriorated."

"Yes, Rezneke has fallen." This is not a question but a grim acknowledgement from Bilash. "What happened? The last word we received said that our numbers were low but at parity with the Latvian menace. How did we lose this city so quickly?" In typical fashion Bilash sounds more bemused than angry, chuckling a little at the absurdity of the situation.

"The remnants of our army were in the process of debrief when you arrived comrade, if you wish we will start over." Marchenko gestures at about fifty or so men and women assembled behind him in the clearing. Bilash notes, with some disappointment, that save for a handful of his fellow commander's inner circle, only monks and punks remain.

"As you say." Bilash walks forward a few paces and stands before the crowd. At the front there is a group of five punks and one particularly dishevelled monk. The punks are wearing the tightest black fatigues Bilash has ever seen, and every single one has large rips across the knees of their trousers. They all sport long unkempt hair, a blonde at the head of the group, and four raven haired quadruplegangers skulking behind him. The monk is certainly not folically challenged either, wearing an enormous brown beard, full of twigs and debris.

"This," Marchenko," gestures to the blonde "is Igor Popkin, he speaks for the punk faction. I'm not yet sure of his associates' exact role in all this. The hermit is Grigory, he is thought to be the wisest of the mystics." Bilash nods curtly at each in turn.

"Tell us then," says Bilash, seating himself on the stump of a felled tree, and drawing a flask from the inner pocket of his great coat. He looks as at home as if he were sat at his family hearth. Marchenko envies this easy manner, he desperately wishes to sit but feels that doing so will undermine his already tenuous authority. He grimaces and pulls first one foot, then the other from the mud which is still sucking at his boots. "how did this come to pass?"

"Well man," starts Igor "it was like this, we were deep inside enemy territory. It was real freaky, arrows raining down, the man was all around us. They were hitting us from all sides, dig?" Bilash takes a second to process these strange words, but feels he understands the essence and nods once more for Popkin to go on.

"It was our final gig man, so I called out a whole unit of Latvian knights who were heckling us. Well they killed all our field commanders, and the band left me for dead, man." He shakes his head sadly at this then composes himself "I was in a frenzy though, I'd been drinking the berserker tea, man, managed to kill my way free, dig?" Bilash smiles a little, he has some respect for this wild child and his heroic, if poorly planned, antics. "That's when these guys came and found me, it was real cool, you dig? So let me present to you: The Ramonesanovs." The four dark haired men remain aloof despite their acknowledgement.

"Well after that we got the hell outta Texas man. We made it safe back to Rezneke and figured we could hide out there til the heat blew over." Bilash nearly interrupts to ask what the hell a Texas is, but decides it isn't important. "That's where we found this freaky guy," Grigory meets Viktor's eyes at this, and Bilash feels strangley cold. "He was, like, setting up defences, doing some voodoo, dig?" This concerns Bilash and he looks to the monk with hesitation.

"How is it these defences came to fail, brother?" Bilash enquiries of the mysterious man.

"Well, comrade Attaman, I'm afraid to say we were deceived. They had tried everything. I personally survived being shot with arrows, poison in the water supply, and in one particularly vicious exchange a man at arms tried to drown me. Fortunately God smiles upon me and I was able to withstand." The hermit smiles at this, showing broken teeth. Bilash glances at Marchenko who looks pale.

"Sensing that we may soon be on the defensive I had withdrawn to the city to fortify, as comrade Igor has said. Shortly after these five arrived we sealed the gates to prepare for siege, as they told of the pursuing forces coming to enslave the free peoples of Rezneke." So far so good thinks Bilash, sipping at his flask, but it is nearing empty, and he knows like his drink the good times cannot last.

"A few days passed, and no army had materialised, so we sent out a scouting expedition. They discovered a few wounded men in our garb not far from the city. When they returned it unfolded that these were the remainder of the new officer corps. We did not know them as they had been recruited and trained separatelyas per the terms of the new regime. Once they had been treated they told us they had received communications from you comrade Attaman, and they sent us out to prepare seige weapons in the safer areas south of the town." Bilash's eyebrows have knitted.

"I gave no such order." Viktor proclaims confidently.

"No comrade Attaman, we know that now." Grigory's tone has not changed throughout his telling, his voice matter of fact. Speaking with the certainty of someone who thinks that all things are preordained.

"Once the majority of our forces had departed the city they raised a Latvian flag. The majority of the officers had been Latvians in disguise, and one of the new officers an agent provocateur placed in our ranks when they heard we had installed a military dictatorship."

Bilash audibly groans, having worked the rest out for himself. As the silence becomes uncomfortable Marchenko pipes up, desperately:

"Well finish the account then!" This brings a slight grin back to Bilash's face as glances again at his struggling comrade.

"A Latvian delegation, proper, arrived shortly after. What troops were left were gravely wounded, or of the punk sort, and too inebriated on homebrew and mushroom tea to offer any resistance. The Lativans had their pet commander sign the treatises of peace, which returned the town to the Lativian empire. As we fled what was now enemy territory we came upon comrade commander Marchenko a short ride from here."

"I see." Sighs Viktor, he glances at Oleksiy who looks like he is about to spontaneously combust. He offers the depleted flask to his comrade commander, who takes it, deflating. As he drinks, it seems more like essence is passing more from he to the vessel.

"DISMISS! Make camp!" Roars Bilash. Marchenko startles, fumbles, briefly juggles, and drops the now empty canteen into the mud. As the last man turns his back to leave Oleksiy himself half collapses to the mud to sit beside the fallen flask.

An asterisks in the final categories indicates they technically aren't hitting the penalty limit, but are very much on the brink. As always, you can peruse the full table at this link: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1dbEll5KbCZnFDrRejZCYmdP93z_91Xz5efwP_fUT0mM/edit?usp=sharing

​

• Effective Military W: Faroes (21,962); Mexico (13,767); Bora Bora (12,772); Goguryeo (11,987); and Ikko Ikki (11,345)
• Effective Military L: Florida (1,755); Royal Hungary (1,618); Mamluks (726); Dai Viet (547); and Kazakhstan (93)

​

• Production W: Goguryeo (496); Faroe Islands (454); Thule (444); New Holland (439); and Saba-D'mt (400)
• Production L: Rozvi (53); Florida (51); Dai Viet (25); Mamluks (18); and Kazakhstan (11)

​

• Production per city W: Saba-D'mt (40); Bavaria (39.5); Royal Hugary (35.5); Finns (34); and Ndongo (33.4)
• Production per city L: Bora Bora (12.8); Wahgi (12.2); Taino (11.6); Kazakhstan (11); and Dai Viet (8.3)

​

• Effective Science W: Wahgi (551); Goguryeo (526); Faroe Islands (483); Saba-D'mt (482); and New Holland (456)
• Effective Science L: Dai Viet (63); Alaouites (58); Royal Hungary (55); Mamluks (47); and Kazakhstan (19)

​

• Currently Unhappy Civs: Tehuelche (-3); Palawa (-4); Ecuador and Mongolia (-7); Zheng and Wahgi (-9); Taino (-21); Faroe Islands (-27)
• Currently Bankrupt Civs: Tehuelche (-30)