Grazhir

Notes: This "game" is more of an experiment in storytelling, so in certain cases I cheat outrageously, such as having used the map editor prior to actually starting the game to fix the placement of initial buildings and so forth. Basically, I was curious as to whether or not couples would breed children with high courage or leadership even if none of them had it. This is a sandbox game with no time limit, so I can take as long as I want to develop things. Also, as you'll quickly note, this is technically a crossover between Harry Potter and Tropico, but only barely.

Session: 28 February 2009
Compiled: 1 March 2009


Do not let my 'biography' mislead you, no, for I am indeed a wily one. What seems like forever ago I was a not so normal citizen of the magical world, but after my duty there was complete I fled. No, not as a coward, but as a man who had won his freedom from the mealy-mouthed expectations of others too spineless to effect changes for themselves. And besides, my victory had the peculiar effect of rendering me quite possibly immortal.

I used a little item I had picked up during those years (the ministry would no doubt love to imprison me for it had they known) and turned back the clock, fashioning a new life for myself further east, not so incidentally picking up several new languages. I had been there only a few short years when I was 'asked' to take over the governance of an island in the Caribbean by a faction of communists.

Summary

The pathetic fool before me was deposed, his humiliation seen complete as he was sent off into the ocean in a dory, never again to be heard from. I must assume the sharks fed well on his bloated carcass. He was barely off the island when a hurricane swept through, destroying many of the buildings. However, prior to my official arrival they had been restored, which was good, as the fat fool's judgment was exceptionally bad, barely giving each farm room in which to grow crops, so closely together had he ordered them built. The peasants at least had the sense to rebuild in better formation.

I, of course, surveyed the island secretly before taking office and was pleased to note that the hurricane had fortuitously cut the palace (which had survived the storm's might) off from the main island. The soldiers who had been employed there were quite upset by this, as to a man they were afflicted with horrible seasickness, even for such a short trip. And they lived on an island!?

The peasants know not of the secrets I had built (nor anything of the construction crew which met an untimely and terribly accidental death—and how fortunate, for I had yet to pay them, and it was only polite to loot their corpses prior to burial at sea), that which allows me private and secure passage to the main landmass of Tropico.

Disguised as a peasant, I went out on a foray through the populace, meeting the various people 'fortunate' enough to live and work on my island, and ascertaining which of those people were endowed with high courage or leadership, or indeed, both.

Having selected my targets I then changed into a camouflage uniform (how coincidental that I had one) and put to good use my skills of assassination, though occasionally a local snake was happy enough to do my bidding. Oh, how sad! Twelve people died during the initial culling. But, more on that later.

Eventually, the superstitious peasants would come to refer to this time of year as the Feast of El Chupacabras.