Dunno much about the +1s. I never got in the habit of +1ing the story posts as that way madness lies.

I suspect that quite a lot of people read part or all of the first one, and a good number read the next. What you'll have now is a much smaller group of readers who are enjoying the really rather good story and are willing to read a small novel. I dare say most of those who started reading it were looking for the traditional short term webdip humorous post and don't want to commit to anything of this scale.

All that said, they are by far the best posts of multiple paragraphs even written here, and make up the majority of all posts worth reading in the past 6 months.

I'm in agreement with the other two, it's natural that the +1s are decreasing, and nothing to worry about. I've been +1ing them the whole time, but not with the urgency that I did in the beginning.

We really need more good EoGs. Those have traditionally been some of the best reading on the site.

Thanks for feedback guys - Christmas getting in the way of my time to write at the moment, but hopefully next update follows shortly.

^ OK I lied Christmas hasn't really got in the way of the next chapter. The next chapter involved one of the characters looking sideways at Kim Jung-un's cat and my computer was hacked and those scenes mysteriously disappeared. I rewrote them all but now webDip are refusing to let me post them for fear of reprisals.

#maniac4mod

"Ah, the games afoot! Once more into the breach will he send his troops, or close up the wall with his Russian dead...There were only two things that he hated more than Russia and they were both called Putin."

I'm totally lost here, Maniac...who is it you're writing about here? :p

@Obi - any similarities to persons living or dead is entirely noncoincidental.

Chapter 3- First Blood

The invasion of Monterrey had gone relatively well, up until the point where Juan Ortiz had been shot in the kneecap. His incapacitation had marked the turning point in the battle; the other groups had been discovered and gunned down before they knew what had hit them. The backup force of 500 men and three tanks reached them just in time. Ortiz and his men had been whittled down to only a group of 17 pinned down in an alleyway.

That had been four days ago. The initial plans to quickly conquer Monterrey with a small force had been abandoned. The Texans had called in naval support from San Antonio, while the Mexicans had been forced to call reserve troops Coahuila and the Gulf of Campeche. The Texans also had a fleet waiting in the Gulf of Mexico that could potentially halt the tide of the slowly advancing Mexicans. In short, the city was a bloodbath. In an attempt to speed up the process of invasion, Commander Ortiz had called together a war council to discuss their options. It had developed into a heated debate as to what to do next.

“I don’t care how many casualties are inflicted; if they decide to send support from the Gulf of Mexico we’ll lose this battle!”

“I have said a thousand times, they have false information concerning the subject. They believe that the Cubans are attacking Louisiana, and thus their fleet will be distracted there! We WILL win this!”

“ENOUGH!” It was Ortiz. Despite the various bandages on his leg and elsewhere, he was still intimidating enough to hold the attention of a room. His jet black hair was uncombed, thanks to the last few stressful days of war. He didn’t have time for such nonsense anymore. Even leaning to the side due to his injured leg, he would have been taller than anyone in the room, if any of them had stood with him. That aside, his most distinguishing feature was his eyes. They were so dark that people said they were black; in truth, even Ortiz couldn’t distinguish his pupil from his iris. It had earned him the nickname “eye of god” amongst his men, and he could certainly see the future right now.

“We will take Monterrey, and we will take it by the years end. I can promise you that” That unofficially ended the meeting. Ortiz left the room.

Sorry it's been a while since I posted the last chapter; behind the wheel has been taking up more of my free time than I expected. I should be able to be more frequent now that it's winter break, though.

Chapter 13

The excitement of a new game had given way to fear, apprehension and trepidation. As the seconds ticked away to the deadline, the tense atmosphere could be cut with a c1901 Banda Tribe throwing knife. A knife which just happened to be mounted on New Turkey’s wall.

Up until the arrival of New Turkey the game had been played by amateurs. New Turkey was a professional. He had learnt the art of diplomacy and warfare during his theological studies at the International Christian College; which was, as we all know, a front for a military academy. Christianity had waged war from its inception. Up until then armies had to be paid or bullied into fighting but it was soon discovered that if you wanted men to do real evil you had to convert them to religion first. It didn’t really matter which religion. They all pretty much followed the same formula of either dazzling people with heaven, bread and honey and/or a gang-bang with inexperienced beauties or they threatened you with hellfire and brimstone.

Obviously whilst in training you would need to start slowly, perhaps perfecting a disapproving glance before moving onto a stare of condemnation. From there you would develop an air of self-righteousness before embarking on sermons of hate and then finally blowing-up your fellow human beings. The real masters of religion generally got other people to do the killing whilst simultaneously condemning them.

All this knowledge of killing on an industrial scale was known to the New Turkey. How the others would have wept if they had known who the new player was. Germany did know, of course, and he wept for humanity but mostly he wept for his money that he was now certain to lose.

The New Turkey rarely played games. He had been employed to minister to the webDip community in the forums and to tempt the members to join his cult. He received a $689.00 bonus for every recruit he signposted to the church. Back in the day he had a job in a backwater parish and rarely received a bonus. These days, in the age of the internet, he could generally expect two bonuses per week and all he had to do was copy and paste some crap into his thread every other day. Easy money.

Meanwhile, Germany was perplexed at the obvious Austrian/Italian alliance. He had surreptitiously read their press and thought they must be working on a back-channel. Italy was indeed working on Austria’s backchannel when Germany happened to hack into her computer and open the camera. Germany recognised them both immediately and hit his record button. Things were looking up for him again. He grabbed some popcorn and enjoyed the rest of the show.

To be continued…

backchannel. wow. ROFLOL!

Implying he won't move into her backchannel.

Or move in only to move out again - possibly several times.

Chapter 14 – Fall 1901

We’ve all been there. At the start of a new relationship when the time you spend together resembles that of a honeymooning rabbit couple who have just eaten a field of magic mushrooms. Italy and Austria were in this phase. But they had more than just a physical compatibility, they had a shared love of diplomacy and this inevitably became the post-coitus topic of discussion. They would lie in one another’s arms and discuss the merits of The Sealion opening or stalemate lines. They also had to discuss this particular nosebleed game and that’s what led to their first argument. First arguments are great because they give you and excuse to kiss and make-up and loop back to the honeymooning rabbits phase with renewed intensity. But this argument was different – it wasn’t an argument of equals as Italy was about to find out. He had suggested that rather than supporting Alb-Gre as Austria had demanded, that he should take Tunis. Austria had tried her usually tactic of getting her own way – but Italy was standing firm (so to speak). So she went for the nuclear bombshell. “OK,” She said. “On a completely different, unrelated entirely subject that has nothing at all to do with our current discussion; Does your wife play diplomacy?” Italy was stunned. “Surely not. She wouldn’t would she?” He thought to himself. But he knew for certain she would. Resigned to his fate, he agreed to become Austria’s bitch. It wasn’t all bad, he lay back and accepted her gratitude.

Later that night Italy arrived back home and opened up the game ready to input his orders. There was still half an hour or so until deadline and he wanted to leave it to the very last minute to enter orders as he knew the game had been compromised. He took a moment to check his email. He was about to delete some spam but noticed it contained a reference to the nosebleed game. He opened it and watched in horror as a video started playing. A caption trailed across the screen suggesting a completely different set of moves. He knew such a video could only have come from Germany and he hastily sent an email begging for mercy. He explained that if he didn’t cooperate with Austria that she would inform his wife of their affair. Germany posted back pointing out that Austria didn’t have proof, Germany did and if Italy didn’t want his wife to see the video he would do exactly as he was instructed.

Italy had been between the devil and the deep blue sea before, but this felt as if he was drowning in fire. Less than ten minutes to make up his mind. Often when presented with two terrible choices it’s best to take the least objectionable. But sometimes you have to seize the initiative, put other options on the table and come out fighting. And sometimes you just want the world to swallow you whole and for the nightmare to end. With 30 seconds to go until the deadline, Italy choose to end the nightmare. He typed up and printed out a short note, climbed into the attic, threw a rope around the feature beam and went out kicking at the dank stall air.

His short note was chiselled into his gravestone.

I came, I played, I didn’t conquer.

To be continued…

That's not the ending, right? Is there more? I'm wanting to hear what happens next!

No the story doesn't end there LeinadT - the next 12 chapters can be purchased via Amazon - search for 'Trust No One' - I've written it under my nom-de-plume - diplomaniac - price £5.99 enjoy

Chapter 15

Christmas was a lonely time for Austria; the press from her other diplomacy games dwindled to next to nothing as her fellow players for some reason took up FIFA 2014 over the xmas break. She missed Italy dreadfully. She had read about his real life death on the diplomacy forum; someone who knew him in real life had started a thread. The outpouring of grief had touched her deeply. Some jackass of a troll had ruined it all by criticising the other posters, saying no one really knew him and for all anyone knew he could have been a low life who cheated on his wife. Austria knew that this accusation was just trolling, no one else knew of their love, but the remark cut deep. From now on she vowed to only date single guys. Preferably single guys with very little previous sexual experience. How fortunate it was that this profile matched 97% of the webDip community.

It had been a good Xmas for Germany; he had won all his FIFA matches and was now able to take control of Italy’s account. Surely he couldn’t lose when he played two countries? The thing that disturbed him most was England. He wasn’t an imminent threat but he had seemed to have fallen of the face of the planet. He couldn’t track his online presence at all. His log-ins were from random public access computers dotted around America, he assumed he must be either using a re-router or on a nationwide tour.

England was indeed on a nationwide tour with his friends; Mossberg 500, Ruger 10/22, Mosin Nugant, Taurus PT92 and his very best friend Rugar Mark 1. There was a time when people with Paranoid Personality Disorder wouldn’t have been allowed to protect themselves. That changed following a cyberhack that had dumped the details of every mental health patient in the US online. This led to a spate of burglaries targeting these people as the assailants knew they couldn’t be met by force. Fortunately, The People v Lou Nattic had decided that the mentally ill could now carry arms as well as make the gun laws. England himself had been targeted since the change of law and would have been able to defend himself if his guns weren’t locked away in a safe as was required by law. Kansas has now passed a law that requires potential burglars to give 24hrs notice of their intentions so householders can be properly prepared. Some states decided to allow people to keep their guns under their pillows instead. The divorce rate in those states has dropped dramatically and the accidental spousal deaths have rocketed, but no one really seems to know why.

England knew his best friends would offer him protection later on in the game.

To be continued…

Ah, the sad demise of Italy. He had to leave the game so soon. I am rooting for England in a face to face with Germany.... Germany getting more and more nervous as his log in points become closer and closer to his own location....

For those wanting to follow the game 'live' it is at gameID=152152

I love the symmetry of the gameID.

Chapter 16

France could procrastinate no longer. He had made an awful start and had to take risks and gain allies. It was time to seize the bullet and bite the bull by the horns. He messaged Austria. “Hi Annie, can we talk?”

Austria messaged back instantly, “Sure, but how do you know I’m Annie?” She then put an array of characters which, when looked at from an angle of 72 degrees, might just have resembled an impressionist painting of a very long-faced man with a puzzled stare. Apparently a simple question mark no longer conveyed such meaning.

France had no idea what her emoticon had meant and assumed she had just fallen on her keyboard. He answered her question anyway.

“1 – I noted the way you used grammar and syntax and cross –referenced that to other games we had played.

2 – You end your messages with a ‘x’, indicating you may be female which narrows down the options considerably, and

3 – I saw your sex-tape with Italy and noted that the diplomacy board in the corner of the shot was laid out as if it were our game.”

Austria’s reply took half-an-hour or so as she searched online for the video. She was rather pleased with her performance, but also horrified. It had gone viral, received 7.4m views and she hadn’t been paid a dime in royalties. “Couple of things, (1) can we work together against Italy and/or Germany? (2) How did you get to see the video? (3) You watched a horny vid and noticed a boardgame in the corner?” The ordering of her questions belied her sense of priorities.

Italy responded in a nano-second, “(1) – perhaps we could meet to discuss our alliance? (2) Google is my friend and he recommended it to me based on my most popular search terms; ‘Diplomacy’ and ‘porn’. I’m guessing the whole of webDip has now seen it. (3) I won’t lie, noticing the board was, shall I say ‘the climax’ of my viewing experience.

Austria: “In which case, sure we can meet. <3.”

Meanwhile, Germany was pondering why Russia had taken such a suicidal approach to his opening moves. He had researched all of the player’s former openings and had never detected anything even remotely so aggressive. Perhaps he should be paid a visit?

Russia was hard at work in his bookstall. After diplomacy, Russia’s great love was books. He read everything and anything but always came back to a little known English playwright whose name escapes me. Someone entered the shop. The little bell above the door tinkled to announce their arrival. This bell tinkled a hundred times a day, but somehow sounded different, as if it was trying to warn Russia of some impending doom. He looked up just in time to see a tall bookcase thunder towards him. He had no time to move, nor would he want to. He tried to save his books hitting the floor and was cold-cocked by the collected works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. No one could survive being hit by such a canon and Russia’s life was all but over. His shop assistant rushed to cradle him in her arms. Russia mused that it had taken a near death experience to provoke his nearest sexual conquest before uttering the final words he had rehearsed since first being acquainted with his great love. “The rest is silence.” As is becoming a bit of a tradition, these words were etched into his gravestone.

As it happened, the rest was not altogether silence. Russia had taken the precaution of writing a short programme that entered his moves at the final second if he wasn’t able to make the deadline. Russia would move from beyond the grave.

To be continued…

*France (not Italy) responded in a nano-second

Another action packed episode. I am slightly concerned that the upcoming chapter focusing on Germany changing his name by putting the letters diplo in front of it will be something of a let down...

Wonderful! Although you may run out of players at this rate...

Bump..

Alas, poor Russia...I knew him, WebDippers all--

O what fools these players be! ;)

Though this chapter ends on quite the cliffhanger, Maniac--the books! :O

WERE THE BOOKS SAVED?!