Baklovakia, People's Republic
Foundation: 1739-date (T205-date)
Capital: Komarno in Slovakia
Religion: Hussite Christian
By Komrade Rob Pierce & updated by Komrade Martin Helsdon
This is a small republic is eastern Europe founded on the principles of Baklovakist Thought©, but is best known for it's pastries and vodka (not necessarily all at one sitting, however).
In game terms, this is one of only two countries that are run "by committee". The other is the Southern League. In this case participants in a discussion list vote on actions by acclamation (if I understand it right). And don't miss their web site - it's a hoot!
Kiev: However, just to break the hearts of everyone in central Europe, young Nadia did accept an engagement offer from the Duke of Carpathia (who was also handsome, though no Ned I must say) and the two were wed in a furtive ceremony at Christmastime in '40. Her father's hope to lure the duke into an alliance with Kiev had, so far, failed but at least the Carpathians no longer allied themselves with the People's Republic. Then Nadia broke everyone's hearts by suffering a heart seizure a week later and dying entirely unexpectedly, in her lover's arms.
Baklovakia: Diplomacy: Carpathia(reduced to a c)
The death of old Smyslov, the First Citizen, forced general Wachowski to return to Komaro - and in turn allowed the nubile, yet treacherous Nadia to sneak into Carpathia and suborn the dim-witted (but handsome) Count. Corralling enough sober senators to elect him First Citizen occupied the rest of Wachowski's time.
Rumors out of Alfold revealed the dastardly Kievians were attempting to get the locals to convert to Eastern Orthodox - even giving out free icons and incense! "Religion - other religions than our own pure and untainted Hussitism - are the opiate of the people!" Senator Lybinski proclaimed from the vodka-soaked pulpit of the Senate House. "Hic! Alfold is a valuable source of cream for our pastries!"
Then amazing and welcome news came from the city of Marseilles, where recently some young Baklovakians had gone to attend a pastry cooking school in the bustling free-port.
AEIC: Unfortunately, matters close to home were growing serious. The offices of the Company in Marseilles were destroyed in an apparent terrorist attack, though the efficency with which the survivors were hunted down and murdered chilled the blood. Further trouble in that city followed, with the students at the local schools (riled up by Baklovakian agitators) mobbing the streets, exchanging gunfire and thrown stones with the city police, then barricading the university district. As Marseilles enjoyed special 'autonomous' status within the Danish Empire, the local Imperials refused to intervene. Within two months, the entire city had fallen to the student revolutionary brigades and their red banners flew bravely from the rooftops and gates. The sound of the Internationale range from the steeples!
Tabor: Despite great reservations about the ability of the Senate to implement anything other than a grog-drinking contest, the Knights lent the People's Republic (in Hussite solidarity) a great deal of money. Thiesman made a number of stern comments about 'sobriety' and 'building an economic base' before handing the bags of cash over to the Baklovakian ambassador. That fellow (remarkable for the size of his ears) nodded earnestly, then sloped off to discuss revolutionary politics in the local cafes and drink absinthe.
Franks: Princess Margaret's attempt to return home to Paris via the Danish port of Marseilles was confounded by the student revolution in that city and the foundation of their 'Commune de Populare' which denied her fleet entry into the harbor. After considering storming the city with her army, the princess relented (the troubles of Denmark were not currently her problem) and the fleet spent the rest of the year sailing around to the port of Brest. Eventually, she did make her way home.
Baklovakia: Diplomacy: Failed
A new distillery and a new pig-works were opened in Komarno, resulting in the entire southern half of the city being permeated with a particularly sharp odor. Efforts to woo the Carpathians back into the fold failed - they liked the Kievian pastry better! (How could this be?)
Today, the Student Revolutionary Councils of Sevilla and Limoges announced they would back the Republican government as the legitimate authority in Spain. "We believe the Largo-istas deserve the opportunity to show they can improve the conditions of the working classes, and we believe this goal can still be best achieved if the Revolutionary Councils work within the democratic framework, particularly in regards to the dismantling the "Guild" system." - Juan Perrando, SRC. January 3, 1741
While the motion passed easily, there was a somewhat large minority who advocated a policy of non-cooperation with the Republicans, whom they viewed as merely an extension of the bourgeoisie capitalist system disguised with the trappings of democratic liberty.
"By siding with the Republicans, the Revolutionary Councils are thus faced with a choice between going with the peasant masses or with the liberal bourgeoisie. There could be only one reason to include the peasantry and the liberal bourgeoisie in the same coalition at the same time: to help the bourgeoisie deceive the peasantry and thus isolate the workers! By tacitly aiding the Royalists, we could have helped the class enemies destroy themselves, the last vestiges of feudalism would have been swept away, and the establishment of true Baklovakianism could have been achieved within our lifetimes. Alas, it is not to be...woof woof" - Samuel 'Pepe' Berkowitz. January 7, 1741
The Grand Albanian over the Komarno Aerodrome
The Communards in Marseilles were plagued with embassies from many powers, and made out well in gifts (particularly from the Danes and the House of Tewfik) which they immediately applied to the Workers Cause (buying Danish rifles and pistols for the workers battalions.) In any case the students had determined to aid their brothers and sisters fighting in Spain, and many left the city and marched west into Navarrese territory.
In Komarno, comrade Wachowski barely escaped death at the hands of two large men in tall fur hats, smelling of vodka and beets. There was a fierce scuffle between the only-slightly inebriated Senatorial Guards and the assassins before the attackers were driven off. Wachowski was surprised - he had not expected that arch-villain Vladimir to take such an over step in their feud!
In addition to taking up arms against the Royalists, the student committees in Marseilles and Seville also seized the properties of any merchant houses ("the means of production must be placed in the hands of the workers!") therein. Indeed, in Seville, the student revolutionary committees extended their control over the province of Andalusia, and wrecked both Nörsktrad and Church properties. "Catholicism is the opiate of the people!" They chanted, dragging the priests from their churches and painting them yellow.
AEIC: Aerial passenger service was announced between the cities of Venice, Komarno, Paris and Warsaw. Four luxury airships (equipped with casinos, first class chefs, and individual cabins) inaugurated the routes - the Grand Venecian, the Gay Paree, the Grand Warsaw and the Grand Baklovakian.)
Denmark: In the west, a Danish fleet and army converged upon Marseilles, where the student revolutionary council stared in shock at the marching regiments of Piket's expedition, and at Gligoric's naval flotilla off-shore. After huddled negotiations, the students agreed to pay a heavy tax to the Empire (and, in fact, seemed quite pleased with themselves).
Navarre: Aside from the fighting against the Republicans and the treachery of the Church and the Jesuits, the Navarrese were also afflicted by marauding gangs of workers and students (from the communes of Marseilles and Limoges) who overran the provinces of Auvergne and Languedoc, laying siege to the port of Narbonne.
Spain: And not to forget the Communards and students from Limoge, they had besieged Narbonne in early '41 and had kept up a heavy pressure of plays, speeches and other demonstrations of the workers arts. In '42 they were reinforced by various socialist battalions from Marseilles and set about bombarding the city in earnest. In the late summer of '42 the city surrendered, the garrison marching out to clasp hands with the students and everyone threw their hats in the air. An enormous party followed, during which time a vast quantity of vodka was drunk and many pastries consumed.
1743 – 1744 T207
AEIC: Negotiations continued with the dockyard workers, the stevedores and the sailors. Nikolas wanted a fair and equitable arrangement – and more to the point, he wanted to keep the Communard labor organizers out of his workshops.
Républica Popular de Espaná: Faction politics within the Communard movement caused a violent split between the SRC cadres in Spain and the ‘masterminds’ in Komarno. “We raise our own flag,” the workers and peasants declared, ten thousand voices raised in a cheer. “We find our own liberty! Liberation!”
Spain: While armies were marching hither and yon across the northern half of the nation, the Vice-Presidente Jose Tordesillas Cabellero was presiding over the state ministries in Lisbon. At his brother’s command, a set of new laws were enacted, attacking the old guild structure among the manufacturies and workshops throughout Spain. By these means, the Cabellero regime hoped to defuse the Communard threat.
Kiev: A festive weekend – celebrating the birthday of princess Anna Kournos – was rudely interrupted when a band of swarthy men (dressed in fur hats, heavy overcoats adorned with hammer and sickle symbols) stinking of vodka attempted to rush the stage where the prince was presiding over the poodle-parade. Shouting “death to the oppressor of the workers, peasants, laborers and ox-throwers” these ruffians were immediately set upon by brawny guards. A scuffle ensued and amid the tumult one of the assassins’ beards was given a mighty tug – and it flew off!
Moments later, everyone stared in amazement as the “Baklovakian assassins” were revealed (down to their underpants) as Polish agents! How cunning…
A very strong force of cavalry was dispatched to assist the Swedes in their war against Georgia, and an even larger force of specially-imported French poodles were shipped up the river to Komarno in a long string of barges laden with casks and wicker Sunday picnic baskets.
Frankish Commonwealth: A strange message arrived from Kiev… a wild request for every poodle in France. The Archon’s advisors were never able to explain to the Archon’s satisfaction what this affair was all about. The whole thing was absurd! Did the Kievans really expect the Commonwealth to dispatch its leaders to deliver poodles to the easternmost recesses of Europe? Did they not realize the Archon had much better things for his people to be doing? The Archon dismissed the request with a hearty – though somewhat strained – laugh. Perhaps the Kievans were trying to lessen the tensions of leadership through comedy.
In any case, there was a strange shortage of poodles thereafter, though Jacques could not abide the barky little things, so he was secretly pleased.
Baklovakia: Diplomacy Carpathia(neutral)
Even as the Senate presided over the opening of a new bath-house and distillery in Komarno, urchins ran up from the docks, shouting grand news. “Pastries! Free pastries! And spirits!” A veritable river-fleet of barges – some even flying the jaunty flag of Kiev – were arriving at the Komarno city docks amid a cacophony of barking. As everyone soon learned, princess Anna – so well loved by the citizens of the Republic, even though she was a naughty Kievian – had sent them presents!
Poodles – imported French poodles – in number sufficient for every single citizen, large and small, with hand-lettered tags around their poodle necks saying “not for the eating.” And pastries – oh, such wonderful cream-filled, extra-sized vladovas – again enough for every man, woman, child and ox to gorge themselves to oblivion. And the vodka! Not just vodka, but special Kievian vladka, which as everyone knows is double the strength and twice as clear, like air! And everyone needs air to live, right? A massive, nation-wide party began, notable for the fine BBQ.
First Citizen Wysowski’s visit to Carpathia – in disguise, very clever, as a woodsman carrying a Baklovakian flag – was filled with hilarious hijinks – pianos falling out windows and nearly crushing him to a bloody pulp, attacks by rabid poodles, a washerwoman with enormous arms and a sharp axe, etc. However, thanks to a terrible accident early in the trip where he lost his vodka bottle, Wysowski managed to win through, alive!
The First Citizen returned in ’44, just in time to observe the entire nation of Baklovakia sleeping off a truly enormous hangover (and pastry-over, if you know what I mean). Everyone in Komarno was snoring, asleep, as the Citizen rode into town. The only moving creatures were a few furtive poodles – fur matted with burrs and mud from hiding in a culvert – who slunk away from him, whining in fear.
Wysowski dismounted, staring around in disgust. “None left for me? Oafs!” He muttered. Then one of his men shouted, pointing to the south. “Looka-that!” Sergeant Luigi cried. Wysowski turned, shading his eyes against a sudden glare.
The southern sky was lit by a mammoth blaze of light, swelling until it outshone the sun and climbed to the heavens.
“Oooooooooo! Pretty! Wait – why is that ox flying so high?”
Imperial Venice, the Skywatch Tower near the Arsenal, late spring 1744: Worst, the impact threw up a vast cloud of dust and ash into the upper air. While a rain of burning stones would fall across Europe for the next three months, the spreading stain in the sky soon blocked out the sun. A dreadful cloud joined the faint brown smudge already clogging the higher reaches of the sky – the detritus of the Olathöe explosion.
Claudia, her scientists and her family – attempting to flee across the barrier of the Alps by zeppelin – were killed when the stormfront rolled across their aerial convoy and tore them all to bits. Not one airship survived, even the Grand Baklovakian which had been carrying the Imperial family to safety.
1745 – 1746 T208
Kiev: Complete starvation was fended off by a government sponsored program to provide the citizens with tinned poodle meat. Luckily, the Baklovakians had not consumed all the breeding stock. Pickled rat was also popular, with a side of bark tea.
Baklovakia: If things were grim and shot through a gray filter in Kiev, they were no better in formerly-happy Komarno. The ox which all had seen fly so high had plunged into the roof of Mrs. Toporosky’s shed and caused a violent explosion. Within moments, the entire distillery district had gone up in a mammoth conflagration of burning potatoes, grain mash and badly-refined alcohol.
Even Wysowski, who had previously accounted it a poorly day to go with only a “wee dram” of the spirituous liquor, was now forced to try and restore public order, round up the few surviving poodles, dig out the ruins and deal with widespread famine while completely sober.
As a result, when more Cossacks (disguised very cleverly as pastry delivery men) attempted to make off with him, the First Citizen flew into a mighty rage and tore the three burly Kievians into small bits with his bare hands. Then he wept, on his hands and knees among a huge litter of pastry boxes. “Empty!” He wailed, heartbroken. “All… empty… the horror! The horror!”
 The First Citizen was tipped off by the unusual cleanliness of their gumshoes.
 For all of you Kall of Komarno players out there, encountering an empty pastry box is a 1d3 SAN loss, while a empty box the character thought had pastry in it is a 1D6+1 SAN loss.
Poland: Trouble broke out in the south on the Baklovakian frontier, where reports of brigand gangs began to circulate. After an entire town near Krakow was reportedly destroyed by a bandit raid, a strong Polish force marched south from Warsaw to restore order. Luckily for colonel Tobiasz, his force was accompanied by eight newly built airships and with the help of these eyes in the sky, he was able to find the raiders and bring them to battle. A fierce dust-up followed and the valor of the Queen’s Own Polish Rifles was well shown, as their volleys cut down the blackguards as they charged. Examining the bodies afterwards, Tobiasz found – to his horror – the ruffians were some kind of strange cult, all adorned with bones and teeth and pickled ears. Some of the men had metal masks wrought in the shape of beasts and demons.
“Unnatural blighters,” he said, holding a kerchief to his nose against the smell. “Don’t wash much, either. Burn the lot.”
Great Britain: Though king Oliver was half-sick at the sight of so many Londoners mangled and bloody, many killed in the crush of the fighting, he did not hesitate to order his Coldstream Guards to crush a subsequent riot and insurrection at the City of London University. Apparently some younger students had been corresponding with the Spanish Communards and sought to emulate them in rising up against the “facist overlords.” Nearly four hundred students were killed in the “Bakery Uprising.”
Vastmark: Investigations into the banking scandal continued, though the Stadholder was not pleased with the results. “The Kievians,” he growled, “couldn’t steal a pastry from a pig! Even a drunk, Baklovakian pig!”
1747 – 1748 T209
Baklovakia: Still sort of stunned by the Skyhammer and the damage wreaked upon the fair realm of Baklovakia, the Senate managed to bestir itself enough to allow Carthaginian, Islander and Swedish ships to call at Komarno (particularly since the dock was now repaired and the river was flowing clear again).
A learned conclave also gathered in the fields behind Mrs. Toporosky’s shed, near the distillery, to discuss the construction of a Planetary Ox Catapult. After consuming a great deal of vodka (they were, sadly, out of Kievian vladka) everyone agreed that protecting the world required a mechanism to reach beyond the heavens.
“The first Ox on the moon!” Berkowski proclaimed, rather tipsily. “The people’s Red banner on the Red planet!” Shouted back Gemmillisky, before falling out of the boat.
“Hic!” Chorused everyone else.
Late in ’48, a huge crowd of Franks and Spanish arrived in Moravia, where some rather-bleary-eyed Senate officials reported they had found refuge at the town of Ostrava on the Polish border, greatly expanding the tiny burg into something very like a city.
1749 – 1750 T210
Baklovakia: The refugees from the west gave up their arms and took up the plowshares, sickles and steam-powered tractors of the proletariat. In particular, the town of Ostrava expanded, the streets of Komarno were cleaned (resulting in considerable protest by the mud-cake sellers guild) and an expedition was launched to corral the Carpathians into joining the Republic. The notorious Colonel Sluj was placed in command of this military extravaganza by Comrade Wysowski (who, in direct contravention of all Baklovakian ethics, had started getting up early, not drinking so much, making positive, forward-thinking decisions and generally dressing in a natty, sharp style).
As the Carpathian defenses were in disorder due to a recent Polish cavalry raid, the combined Baklovakians/Ostravan force were easily able to overwhelm them and install a rigorously sober garrison which was entirely lacking in ox-tossing, vladka-gorging and had no pastries! A new city, Smyslovograd, was built to anchor the Republican presence in the province. The Senate was in a turmoil! Some Frankish reporter and his little white dog were snooping around, making trouble… worse, there were rumors the notable Milanese Nightingale (and her usual coterie of admirers) would be performing in the Komarno City Opera House at Christmastime.
1751 - 1752 T211
Baklovakia: Pork was disbursed - pre-barreled and pre-pickled - to the towns of Ostrava and Smyslovgrad, as well as the provincial boyars of Slovakia. An attempt to convince the People's Mounted Ox-Throwing Hussars to become infantrymen failed miserably - not only did the lancers refused to give up their beloved horses, but whichever Senator had been in charge of the financial planning for this particular five-and-a-quarter-year plan had made a terrible hash of it… on the other hand, work on a super-secret "ox catapult" began in the high Carpathians.
Albanian engineers visited Komarno while surveying the path of a proposed highway (no, not a hyperspace bypass) from Danish Austria to the capital of the Republic. They drank heavily and were heartily glad they'd left Thessaloniki while they could.
Lieutenant-Colonel Piqard - tasked by the Senate to get out of town with his damnable "tea, hot" fetish traveled all over Carpathia, Moravia and Slovakia. In a remote part of Moravia he did come upon a half-abandoned town called Stegiocavar, wherein an odd, ancient obelisk stood. Doubtless of Roman manufacture, Piqard had the hoary monument dug up and dragged (in an ox-cart, of course) back to Komarno, where it now stands in the public square as a symbol of the triumph of science over superstition.
Swedish-Russia: With something like peace descending on the ice-bound forests of Russia and Scandinavia, the northerners turned their attention to an old-standing pastime: Elections! With the Krycek government putting an inordinate number of militia into the streets to 'keep order', the usual shenanigans of the various political factions were kept to a minimum. Also, a close watch was kept out for 'Baklovakian Troublemakers.'
1753 - 1754 T212
Baklovakia: A great deal of crashing, banging, hammering and cursing could be heard from the woods behind Mrs. Toporosky's shed. Anyone foolish enough to venture in among the alders and spruce was turned back by a particularly vicious lot of Cossacks and large, vladka-breath-smelling dogs.
An excerpt from the autobiography of Georgi Antipodea, Theorist
(fragment missing) …Ah. Well yes, but perhaps I should explain. In my childhood I lived in a village in the foothills of the Carpathians. Life was simple, happy, and most of all egalitarian. Families would gather on Saturday evenings to eat pastries (but simple, rustic pastries), drink vodka, compare oxen, and decide by lots what each families responsibilities to the community would be.
For many years, this pleasant way of life continued uninterrupted. Then one month a Swedish trading delegation arrived on their way... somewhere (I really don't know if we ever found out), and decided to wait out a stint of particularly poor weather at our inn (the Ruminant Poodle).
I still remember seeing the Swedes, resplendent in their foreign gear, debarking from their coaches. How we stared in awe, for the Swedes brought pastries!! Foreign pastries the like of which we had never seen before.
That evening the people of the village crowded into the Ruminant Poodle to hear tales from the many places the Swedes had been, or so we thought. The Swedes were, for the most part, an officious and arrogant lot - rarely deigning to acknowledge the people, let alone answer questions beyond a sneer and a churlish comment about personal hygene.
The final insult came late in the evening. Only a few villagers remained at this point, the rest having returned home in sullen disgust at the "hoity toity foreigners - not fit to clean the stables, if you ask me!" I was one of those who remained, and witness to the unfortunate events which followed. The Swedes had exhausted their own supply of foods and pastries and were finally going over the plate carefully prepared by Vasili the Butcher (who had drawn Pastry Baking duties that week). A pastry was chosen, and one of the Swedes began to nibble at it.
It was widely accepted among the villagers that Vasili was, perhaps, not the best pastry chef available to us. In hindsight, perhaps Oleg the Baker might have been a more appropriate person to cater that particular evening, but he had drawn blacksmith duty that week. However, Vasili had persevered on this day to make the best pastries he could. The insults he received were hardly appropriate to the occasion.
Vasiliy was always a mild mannered gent, though, and listened to the rebuke with good grace, although he was surely seething at the rudeness of the guests. In time, the 'Poodle emptied, and all returned home, save Rurik the Stablehand, who was inkeeper that week.
Many in the village heard screaming that night, but as it was all in some foreign language, we weren't able to decipher the frantic pleas, and were therefore reluctant to intervene, lest we interrupt where we were not welcome. The next morning, however, all of the Swedish party, save the coach drivers, had vanished.
The coaches departed swiftly on at first light, and none spoke of the disappearances again. Nor did anyone comment on the mysterious humps dug fresh in the floor of the village stables. Vasili never baked again either. Even when it was his turn by lot.
To this day, though, when a family in my village draws stablehand duty, a snigger goes around the people. That family has been "sent to the Swedes."
The doings in the Toporosky back forty were quickly forgotten, however, when the Senate blearily announced a planned Komarno to Krakow railroad. Indeed, a veritable gang of Spanish engineering students were already hard at work, knocking down fences and clearing cow-paths to mark the proposed route of the 'iron road' to the north. Unfortunately there was almost immediately a riot when two of the Spaniards (who drink wine, for the love of the Risen Christ!) attempted to tape measure their way through Madame Blavatsky's School for Otherwordly Girls.
The ensuing brawl / pillowfight / pie-pitching contest spread throughout six blocks of Komarno and nearly burned down the Senate building before a visting Italian opera singer - seeing the rampaging crowd and believing they were rushing to meet her and demand autographs - launched into her world renowned rendition of the "Jewel Song" from Faust.
That cleared things up in a right smart fashion.
Other news of note included a 50-cent sale at Gersons and the mysterious death of Baron Piqard in Moravia, where he reputedly fell under the wheels of a wagon and was crushed to death by beer kegs. The whereabouts of Colonel Sluj were equally unknown, for he had taken off to the south with a well-armed band of rapscallions.
1755 - 1756 T213
Baklovakia: Diplomacy Alfold (^fa)
Despite constant whining the Senate about the inordinate amount of money, manpower and vodka ration being spent on the utterly impossible railroad the First Citizen wanted built from Komarno north through the very rugged mountains to Krakow in Poland, work proceeded apace.
“The energy, skill, determination and unflagging willingness to forgoe happy hour for laying another mile of track shown by the workers on the dangerously-fast iron road is a grave disappointment to me,” Senator Wells proclaimed, clinging unsteadily to the speakers rostrum in the Senate. “And to all Baklovakians with an ounce of vodka in their bloodstream!”
The banging and clattering and shouting behind Mrs. Toporosky’s shed also continued, with the vague shape of a giant wooden framework now rising above the trees.
A first boatload of funny copper-skinned people wearing gleaming coats of feathers arrived, eager to sell the pastry chefs of Komarno a wide variety of excellent chocolates.
Colonel Sluj continued to march swiftly about the countryside with most of the army, launching surprise investigations of unsuspecting Girl’s Schools and cemeteries. Unfortunately, besides incurring a number of paternity suits lodged by Madame Blatavsky and her wards, the Colonel found nothing of an actual suspicious character.
His investigations, however, were curtailed by news the First Citizen had gone out to examine the homestead bear trap (there being a bad spate of bear attacks in Komarno of late) to see if it was adjusted correctly. Unforunately it was; for the sharp log fell and imprisoned the unfortunate First Citizen, and several hours elapsed before any one came to his release. He was taken out, called for a drink of water, which was brought him in a hat from the stream near by, when he drank it he immediately expired.
First Citizen Sluj has announced that hats will be immediately banned within Baklovakian lands.
Poland: Several hundred Baklovakian Cossacks descended upon the town of Katowice in southern Bochnia, much to the alarm of the locals, rampaged about, knocked over dozens of cows, stole an icon from the church there and then galloped away over the mountains. A deputation was sent off to Warsaw to protest this reprehensible behavior and demand justice from the Duchess.
Danish Empire: A creeping sense of panic began to infect the Danish Capital. More bombs exploded in the government district, killing many workers. The police arrested anyone they could lay their hands on, including three entirely innocent Baklovakian medical students.
1757 - 1758 T214
Kiev: Minded their own business. But would anyone leave them alone? No!
Baklovakia: Diplomacy Not to speak of, no…
With strictest secrecy, the Special Services group of the Komarno Police Department, in association with the Kivagrad Block Housing Surveillance section, the Fire Department, the Ox-Tossers Local 415, two student groups from the Komarno Public School 14 Detectives club and approximately four hundred Cossacks who had noticed ‘something was up’ stormed the house lately occupied by the romantic, dashing and just a little suspicious Prince Desreyl of Kiev. Unfortunately, by the time they had managed to knock down the door, trip over the rug, knock a candle over, set fire to the house, get lost in the smoke, put out the fire, round up all the oxen which had gotten loose in the confusion and save Mrs. Toporosky’s cat from a tree where it had fled to escape the tiger someone had been keeping next door (which had been let out by the Girl Detectives because it was inhumane to treat a big kitty-winkums that way), the Russian spy had escaped.
Back in the Senate hall, there was a muddled debate about the lack of funding for the super-secret project underway in the woods behind Mrs. Toporosky’s shed. The scientists working on the, um, the, well you know, the thing in the woods, needed more money.
Normally, the citizens of Baklovakia are too addled with alcohol and pastries to pay much attention to events beyond their glorious country, but from time to time they had noticed the tyrannically-oppressed natives of Banat were more-or-less understandable, also liked a good pastry, and brewed some mighty fierce fire water. Unfortunately, these like-minded patriots had long been the despotic, iron-handed rule of Princess Anna of Kiev.
So, when Banat suddenly erupted in revolt in the spring of ’57 and the Baklovakian Revolutionary Guard just happened to be loitering around the border, waiting for an excuse to go charging across into Kievian territory, everyone put it down to a happy, though unlikely, coinkydink.
Prince Ivan of Kiev, however, did happen to be on watch in Banat with four thousand Russian troops and this led to a bit of a scrap at Passelovitch’s Brewery between the Revolutionary Guard and the Russ. Despite the Bakkies fielding nearly twice their number, the Russians under Prince Ivan fought the attackers to a draw, slaughtered the rebellious peasants and then managed to slip away in the night while the Bakkies were stumbling around in a stunned daze at the beating they’d received.
Unfortunately for Ivan, he’d suffered heavy losses too, and while he retired in good order, he no longer had the men to garrison the province, so it fell to the Baklovakians anyway.
Swedish-Russia: The Danish, Baklovakian and Polish embassies were placed under guard and a strict and immediate purge launched to ensure all those officers and regiments in the city and environs were loyal to Kjell’s government.
Poland: Prince Vladislav was summoned back to the capital with the army, but most of the Polish command staff was involved in some kind of monkey-business in Baklovakia, so they paid little attention to the reports from the east.
1759 – 1760 T215
Baklovakia: Despite the fiscal woes continuing to plague the worker’s paradise, the senate managed to allot sufficient funds to continue the iron road north to Polish territory and to keep the banging and crashing and general ruckus in the woods behind Mrs. Toporosky’s shed. Otherwise, there was a lot of thumb-twiddling and staring drunkenly at the ceiling.
Swedish-Russia: Discussions in the new “military council” ruling from Riga determined action was necessary against Poland, above and beyond their abuse of the Catholic minority, to expunge the Leczinski government’s ties to the old “Bone Mother” cult, as well as the notorious Students Revolutionary Council, a prima facie anti-religious and therefore pro-Evil cultic organization, as well as attempts to turn Baklovakia to an anti-Swedish-Russian state.
Danish Republic: Efforts began to return human habitation to Illyria, Bakony and Slovenia, all under the protection of General Bogoljubow’s ‘dust ranger’ corps. As part of this, the Republic reiterated their claim to all lands wrecked by the Blow, including the formerly-Baklovakite province of Bakony.
1761 – 1762 T216
Baklovakia: Gripped by the paralysis endemic to drink far, far too much vladka and eating so many pastries that he became so fat he simply could not move, First Citizen Wysowski failed to implement the will of the people and snored away the days, sodden as a potato. It was, therefore, rather unexpected that the Vienna Chamber of Commerce sent a large force of workers (several thousand strong) to clear the roads from Vienna (in Danishland to the east) all the way to the gates of Komarno. An unexpected flood of trade arrived thereby, though mostly consisting of underage University of Vienna students drawn by the lure of nearly-free beer, vodka and Mrs. Toporosky’s pastries.
1763 – 1764 T217
Kiev: The city of Debrecen expanded, and a string of custom’s sheds were established along the Baklovakian border to try and stamp out the poodle-smuggling trade.
Baklovakia: Hic! Whoozat? Hey, id sumbuddy in the Senate Hall? Snoooooork.
Republic of Denmark: A new highway was also planned from Austria south into Carinthia to avoid having Danish traffic go through Baklovakia, which often caused unexpected delays due to the whole ‘free vodka’ problem.
Ethiopia: The Exchequer, for its part, struggled to keep banking and commerce from collapsing in the Republic, as the ‘Baklovakian Loan’ had come due… and there was no prospect of anyone satisfying the paper. This did not, however, stop the Masai central bank from removing Ethiopia from it’s list of approved lenders.
1765 – 1766 T218
Baklovakia: Diplomacy No Effect
Amid the drunken brawling in the Senate, some measures managed to be passed, including a day set aside for weeping and particularly heavy drinking while watching dirge-laden stage presentations of “The Blue Light” and “Olympia”, to commemorate the long-expected passing of Frau Riefenstahl, a notable Baklovakian playwright and lumograph auteur noted mostly for her near-criminal abstinence from alcohol.
Steady immigration from Germany and Poland (mostly, it must be noted, by university students looking for cheap beer and then forgetting the way home) improved Slovakia to 2 GPv. Work continued, it seemed endlessly, on the ‘iron road’ to Craiova. Regular rail service was still going to be a long time in coming…
1767 – 1768 T219
Baklovakia: Under cover of darkness, without so much as a single lantern… OW! SPLASH! “God curse you, Ivan Fernos, you’ve woken the whole town with your fat feet!” … the Baklovakian Navy (all eight ships) set sail from the docks of Komarno and down the Danube to the distant sea.
The War Against the Invaders…
November 1767: A passel of archaic, leaky boats arrive at Alexandria and unload four hundred drunken Cossacks with enormous fur hats. After getting lost in the city, having a dust-up with the police and rescuing a dozen Swedish girls from captivity in a Hussite nunnery, the Baklovakian Expeditionary Force hires a pleasure barge (the Cleopatra) and sets sail up the Nile.
October 1768: Much to everyone’s surprise (including Colonel Adenauer, who was suffering from the tremors after they’d run out of even fermented camel piss) the Baklovakian Expeditionary Force (four hundred of the unluckiest troopers the Komarno Light Horse had ever sworn into its ancient and noble ranks) stumble out of the desert into Ayn-Al-Ghazal.
Unfortunately – thanks to the Arfen attack – the inhabitants of that place were extremely alert and violently opposed to any and all visitors…
Baklovakia: Banging and rattling and off-key singing continued behind Mrs. Toporosky's shed.
Without the permission of their parents, a number of Girl's Hussite Youth Scouting troops from Komarno and the villages thereabouts spent the summers of '69 and '70 camping in the wilderness of Bakony. As a result, the religion of that entire province reverted once more to Hussitism. Someone – doubtless that slug Sluj - gave the peasants of Slovakia a steam tractor and some goats, which led to a noticeable increase in both wheat and hops production. The 'fleet' also returned from the south, well tanned, draped with knockoff Egyptian-made maracas and stinking of gin.
- Milan Sluj 1769-date
- Wysowski 1743-1768
- Sluj 1756
- Wysowski 1743-1756
- Wachowski 1739-1742
- Smyslov 1739-1739
 Apparently killed in a bear trap in 1756 but up and about the following year. It takes more than a sprung trap, a log, and a glass of water to kill a First Citizen of Baklovakia!
- Kuosky ????-????
- Nehbug ????-????
- Kuosky ????-????
- Gemmilliski ????-????
- Beria ????-????
T205-date (1739-date) People's Senate of Baklovakia
Last updated 1 January 2005