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@Aristo@gorgenmast@Dogematix@BlackBishop

BB's not been on for a month but the others, just maybe...
Haha, enough jokes, this is a roll call, for real this time.

Good, PM me if you want to get this show on the road @Aristo

Otherwise... should we make a roll call?
@Dinh AaronMk

Sorry, christmas and all that. Fixing this right now.


Well, I'll be honest for me its not such a special day so, anyone wants to RP I'm game.
Name: État Libre de Québec / Free State of Quebec

Location:


History:

The Foundation:


The Anglo-French relationship was never 'good', but adversity only made them worst as Canada, rather than join together in solidarity seemed to slowly disjoint itself, the population center of the Capital in Ontario bickering with east and west as the Great Plains once again were forced to provide oil and food to both the Vancouver Region and the East for what it saw was no valid reasons. After all, Quebec had plenty of untapped reserves of oil and minerals it didn't want to exploit because of 'Environmental' concerns or not to frustrate the natives. So, with all this potential, it had the guts to come to parliament and expect the hard earned wealth of the west to be handed to them freely?

The federal power was unfortunately stretched thin and it was getting obvious that someone would be left unhappy no matter what so the Prime Minister, an english speaking Ontarian already unpopular in Quebec, decided to force the province to exploit the resources it had to support the rest of Canada. The Quebecers of course saw this as not only a violation of their rights but as pure theft as it was perceived that the resources exploited would go to the rest of Canada! (Rather than the reality, which was stay locally but as such allow the west to concentrate on its own problems.) The Separatists of course saw this as water to their mill and gained popularity significantly, so much it looked like a landslide victory for the next elections.

Before that could happen however, Yellowstone happened.

Though some in Quebec said 'Good riddance' to those they saw as their enemies, most saw this as atrocious and fearing the sympathy vote could cost them the election, the leader of the Partie Quebecois decided at the last minute to moderate his position and show sympathy toward the rest of Canada, postponing any referendum on separation until 'the crisis had passed'. He was elected with a majority, but not nearly as much as he had wanted and with severe strain in his government as hardliners screamed traitor in his ear.

The story however now moves to a Lieutenant at the Valcartier military base in Quebec, LT Etienne Boulanger, who saw his unit, and indeed pretty much all the military forces in Quebec shifted west to help manage the crisis. It was understandable of course as it was the most affected area but the Quebecers, who didn't want to be so far from their home and spoke broken english found themselves disliked by both the Albertan civilians and the other military units, which was fine with them because they began to hate their guts as well and earned a reputation for quickly turning to violence to solve the problems and alienated the natives.

The main problem arose however when rumors reached the French soldiers about what was going on back East about how the Provincial Government had given complete collaboration to federal forces and had outlawed strikes, even forcing people to work in the mines and new oil fields to provide for the Anglo scum while their own people were forced to freeze during electricity shortages because their abundant hydroelectric resources were sent west. This combined with the departure East of Ontarian forces made Lieutenant Boulanger and many others convinced that they had been deployed so far East because the Federal forces knew they would rather be loyal to their French Brothers than them and would have fought back.

It was the Lieutenant that spearheaded the mutiny of the Quebecers and led them back to the province, leaving their post undefended against looters and taking the resources they were supposed to distribute to the civilians with them. It wouldn't be enough however and they had to pillage their way to Quebec, something the Ontarians are to this day extremely resentful of. When they arrived, they found that indeed the Provincial Government had gotten cold feet and was now subordinate to the Federalists completely. The troops deployed East had originally been sent to the maritime provinces but had stopped when the locals, having heard their troops were coming back to liberate them, had taken to the streets in a General Strike paralyzing the entire province.

Isolated, this garrison was quickly forced into surrender when the Lieutenant, now self declared General Boulanger, arrived and promised to send them back to Ontario in exchange for their surrender. He would however do nothing but watch as the forces leaving were lynched by the mob that saw them come out. The provincial government tried to change its tune quickly and thank the 'General' for liberating them and proclaim an independent state of Quebec, but he was shouted down by the crowd who saw him as a filthy collaborator only trying to save his skin. A Kangaroo court was held on the spot, he and his most unpopular subordinates hung for high treason against the people of the province while the hardliners formed a provisional government investing General Boulanger with extraordinary powers to bring back order. The state of emergency would never be ended and the 'Généralissime' would, to this day, be the highest office in what is essentially a populist military dictatorship.

L'État Libre


Although the reason Quebec didn't get its electricity from its dams was that the power lines had been destroyed by the ashes of Yellowstone, the Generalissime was quick to blame that on both the English speakers and the natives. The natives had gotten restless for obvious reasons and were now either living in isolation or outright raiding the French speaking towns and villages next to them. Boulanger at first ordered them to stand down but this was just to boilster his popularity and forge an image of himself being 'reasonable'. He then had the luck to see a Mohawk tribe burn an entire village to the ground, making any opponent of a violent solution shut up. He sent one of his most brutal subordinates to do the job and although he ordered 'moderation', it came to no surprise when the situation had devolved to ethnic cleansing. The commanding officer had been left with the impression that this was what Boulanger wanted and indeed it was, but what he didn't know was that Boulanger felt that he was popular enough and violent enough that he was a disaster waiting to happen and so used the opportunity to trial him and execute him as well. This didn't stop the war with the Natives who tried to wage guerilla warfare but this only prompted the Quebecer forces to use discrimination and force the natives in internment camps based on their skin color. The tactic was effective but since there was some food shortages, the soldiers were ordered to take care of their own first which resulted in malnutrition killing off most of the Natives, the rest being forced to flee persecution.

Ethnic warfare would prove to be the Generalissime's favorite tool of control as he subverted the Quebecer's spirit of independence into hate of the outsiders, which made for a united ethno-state in north America. With the constant influence of the military on all affairs however, it made the soldiery become the elite class of people in the new State since while others warned of excessive influence of the military on the state, Quebecers were wary of bureaucrats and pencil pushers taking control of it, feeling a man, a single man, with experience and who understood the plight of the people, was the ideal man to have a vision the people should strive for.

To this end, the Generalissime, always chosen from a small clique of high ranking officers that were personal friends and trusted by the previous Generalissime, generally points the determination of the Quebecers toward the Outsiders just like how it all started and pushes north to exterminate the inuit population that constantly sabotages the power lines from the hydroelectric damns and south west in Ontario to recapture farmland that 'Historically belong to Quebec'. Surprisingly however, the Generalissimes always do their utmost to enjoy a good relationship with the US remnants down the south since the first Generalissime warned that an ethno-state was easy to paint as an unambiguous enemy of all you were and that Quebec shouldn't become the enemy that unites the Americans.
"And it was then, as the orc chieftain was gloating about how he's slaughter Hornfel for minutes on end that I saw my friend just slap his face in boredom before charging with this axe! Even if he won, the orcs would have slaughtered us but the plan was to have our companion, an elf impossibly good with a bow begin to rain down arrows as soon as possible so the orcs thought this was an ambush by at least dozens of people. I thought this was crazy and I readied myself to fight to the death but I guess it made sense afterward when Hornfel told me 'If that elf is good enough to pull this off, then by the time I charged he had to be ready'. But that was after you see, at that moment I just saw Hornfel charge in, roll next to a tree-splitting sword chop before taking his axe like so..."

The visitors, enthralled by Vibrek's story watched him position himself with an invisible weapon at the center of the crowd and mimicking coming from a roll, swung it with visible force in a 315 degree axis. "...And chopped his leg, big as an oak trunk with these crude orcish plating, clean of! But then he continued his movement, like so, and landed another blow right in the middle of his chest. He spat on the now dead orc chieftain's face and looked up to the rest of them, about a hundred, and walked toward them with his axe, and I swear to Moradin, the look on their face as they all took a step back! Just said he was on a tight schedule and had to be at Caergoth, a big human city, before the new moon!"

'Ooooh's' and 'Aaaaaah's' followed Vibrek's stories, Hornfel had to admit that he had a knack for it, but he himself didn't care much about them, he, after all, had been there. It was the same thing for Yulia who sat a bit in retreat alongside him in the main salon. The room was hardly like most others in the valley for Hornfel had taken a liking for wood and for windows, something rare in most dwarven citadels. As such, his residency and main keep that had been built just above the main township of his clan, rather than being deep inside the Watching Mountain overlooking the pass, was built on it side with the first few levels being windowless and on top of that having a long walkway for the guards to patrol. Still on top, far away from the foul smell of the forges in the city, were balconies overlooking the pass, richly sculpted in the rock that hid windows with thick velvet curtain. Some would frown at this, doubting of the security of such an arrangement, but the glass windows and doors were laden with thick iron bars so no man may enter by infraction.

The inside was normally luminous but right now had only a massive fireplace and a few silver and crystal chandeliers providing. A more experienced eye would notice how the floor, which was in different shades of marbles to create a map of the known world, was arranged perfectly in relation to the sun that would shine from the west. All this stone and metal however came in contrast with the furnishing of the salon which was mostly made of mahogany and oak made comfortable by cushions, most of the cloth appearing in the place having mostly Burgundian red patterns on them. Overall, the place was a stange human and dwarvish hybrid showing some elvish elements. That and gnomish, as suggested the large metal 'things', steam heaters powered by a central boiler that made this place always comfortably warm in the winter.

"I have to say Master Hornfel, you have quite a few stories from your adventure! You should have come by the Old Mountains in your travel so I could have picked some of them up! They would have gone formidably with those of your brother Agrim" The voice of the Skald, Ziglid Seventeeth (Named after the Seventeeth of gold he now had to replace his real ones, lost to nature and nurture in his old age) brought him back from the thoughts of the lands far from the valley to the reality. Hornfel laughed abundantly as he raised his mug, half full with black ale to what had just been said, hiding rather well the bitterness that Ziglid's mention of Agrim had brought to him. Somehow however, Hornfel thought Ziglid had noticed. "I wish I did! But I always found it easier to quest with humans. They don't leave as long as us so they always have something that needs to be done for yesterday. Still, I'd be glad to hear a song about these stories if you think there's one to be made."

The old dwarf with his shining smile scratched his beard for a moment. "I wonder of you can make a rhyme with 'Orc leg'..." He was silent for a moment but ultimately shrugged. "But I think that will have to wait, I already promised you that I'll compose one about your departed father so I think I have my hands full at the moment, speaking of which..." Hornfel nodded at Ziglid without answering and snapped his fingers at a couple of servants waiting in front of the door to serve the guests anything they wanted, they left the room to fetch what Hornfel asked. "Of course, I haven't forgotten! I am just glad I could get a Skald as illustrious as you to come in our valley... even if it did take a year and a half for you to make place in your schedule." He said with a wink. It wasn't long until the servants came back with a small chest they placed on the table next to Hornfel and Yulia. Suddenly the room got very quiet as the Skald and his entourage showed bright smiles. Maybe he'll be Ziglid Heightteeth once he was done here. Hornfel opened the chest containing several bags of the same size and took one out to push it toward Ziglid. "A little more than we agreed to, but this is to cover the fees of your travel in the valley... but you know what?"

Having said that, Hornfel took a second bag and gave it to Ziglid with a smile, the Skald showing a bright smile at the generosity. "This is for you. I think its just a shame, you know? That the artists of our land are at the mercy of the moneymakers... Take this and treat yourself to something you really want to make." The eyes of the old dwarf gleamed with cunning and as the two looked at each other's eyes they knew exactly what this meant. "Thank you, Master Hornfel. I think I do have a dwarf in mind that deserves songs in his names. A great dwarf that explored the land questing for others and returning to his home to provide the help he could get to his family. Doesn't matter if everyone calls him lord master, he always corrects them to say-"

Hornfel interrupted him, Ziglid indeed knew this was a political plot: Hornfel had tasked him to visit each of the clans of the valley to tell them of Muin so he could record his Saga for all dwarves to hear but in doing so would also entertain with what happened to be the tales of 'the only dwarf from this valley he knew the tale of', which would conveniently be Hornfel, thus increasing his prestige as Ziglid would be glad to say he wasn't asked to do so with the 'generous donation' he had just received. But Ziglid lacked just a bit of understanding of his plan. "No, I do not correct them." There was a silence as Ziglid tried to figure out why saying he accepted the title would help him, it would just enrage his brothers no? "But I don't confirm it either. You see its the burden of the task, if the outsiders knew we still have no Lord-Master, they could get the wrong idea about the state of affairs in the valley. So to the outsiders I 'Play along', but only because I... because we need this." Ziglid couldn't help but have a small laugh now that he knew Hornfel's scheme. If Hornfel continued to deny the leadership he'd get in a position where people wouldn't even consider him for it. But the way he presented this... he wasn't taking the leadership, its just that aspects of it kept falling into his hands! Make him seem like the obvious choice but keep modesty as well... The old Skald showed his golden teeth and nodded in agreement.

_________________________________________________________

Hornfel sat in his enormous bed, getting more comfortable as he undid his leather boots, first with his hands but then loosing patience and finishing with his feet. Standing in the light of a single candle he took a deep breath. Soon after a pair of slender hands moved behind him on his shoulder to massage them, making him relax. Yulia had her ways. "It went well I think." She said and to this Hornfel closed his eyes and nodding while exhaling in satisfaction of the care she took of him again tonight. "Yes, Ziglid knows how this game is played. My brothers don't, they don't know the world like I do... well, maybe Orin does but..." But he had been silent for long. Too long. Of course Yulia knew this, he told her everything. "No matter. I might not have gained too much in the last year but my position is as strong as ever. After this winter, I think things will change a little." Yes, a long winter here with nothing to do but have fun with Yulia. It would be a welcome pause. He thought about everything he did for today and figured he hadn't forgotten anything.

_________________________________________________________

Outside, Vibrek had already left with his troops along with the Skald's host, departing for Muin's keep. The first destination as Ziglid decided to encounter Karolus first and with how dangerous the woods were, they'd need the escort. That was their official reason, but Vibrek knew there was more to this. Now that he was left alone, it was time to read the further details about this 'Orin expedition' Hornfel had told him about. He took out the letter and immediately frowned. The thing was written in Elvish, which might as well be the most perfect cypher in the valley since only he, Hornfel and Yulia knew how to read it.

Friend.

Along with this letter is an invitation from my brother Bladeborn to join a little expedition at High Mountain Peek to know the whereabouts of my brother Orin. I know my brother well and I know he wouldn't care about me or any other getting lost in the mountains, he'd probably enjoy seeing he has one less opponent to claim the Lordship. He hasn't presented his claim, but he didn't give his allegiance to anyone else either so I figure as much at least. No, if we follow this train of thought, he must care about something else and I have a fairly good idea what.

Now, he was probably expecting just a dozen warriors but I want you to go straight to High Mountain with your 160 dwarves to meet up with Orin's troops so he doesn't know about it. Once you're there your presence will be fait accomplie and we'll have a decisive advantage to salvage whatever is left of Orin's clan. I want you to do what you think is necessary to protect my interests.

With respect,
Hornfel.

PS, of Orin should be alive, just leave him be.


Ugh. 'Fait Accomplie'. Vibrek hated how Hornfel, being completely fluent in elvish, wrote expressions and sentences that only make sense to elves rather than have a direct translation in dwarvish. Still, he also hated his habit to leave him to do 'what he think is necessary'. It was just a fancy way of saying 'kill Bladeborn's men and seize the treasure if it is convenient to do so', but in a way that left him responsible and able to deny knowledge of this if it was discovered.

Vibrek had sworn when Muin died that he'd help Hornfel get what he wanted, being the muscle that did his dirty work and in exchange he'd get a clan of his own once Hornfel was Lord-Master. Through that last year, he had done a lot of dirty work for Hornfel but had been good enough not to leave any evidence... Still, he wanted to trust Hornfel but in the end there was always that doubt... after all, he inspired complete trust to his brothers but was still plotting in their back.

_______________________________________________

Dear Brother.

We have recently come under attack by several bandits at the south of the lake and it is doing harm to trade and the peasantry. I fear they are distraught peasants from Muin's keep that the current predicament in the valley has alienated from us. I suggest as much mercy as possible but still we cannot let them act in such criminal ways and they must be dealt with. Surely I can count on your help?

Your kin,
Hornfel.


To the regent of the Valley, Clan Chief Karolus.
My Friend.

Surely you have heard of the banditry problems we face in the south? I would like to pledge 40 good warriors as well as my sword-arm to solve the problem, although I would recommend if at all possible a more clement solution than to resolve to violence. I would request any reinforcement you may send.

With great hope,
Clan Chief Hornfel.

PS: You might have received a visitor in the form of Skald Ziglid Seventeeth, know that I have hired him to write a Saga about the life of my father, Lord-Master Muin, so he may be remembered across all the lands for all of eternity. He is peculiar but came highly recommended. Perhaps you could ask Master Buri to show him the crypt and tell him of the story as he has written it?


___________________________

TLDR;

-1: The Skald is a political agent, his official mission is to write the Saga of Muin and as such will travel all of the valley, starting with Karolus. While doing so however, he will do propaganda about Hornfel's bravery and greatness, telling how outside the valley he is known as an epic badass already.
-2: The Bladeborn request will be answered by sending all of the 150 warriors of the Vibrek company directly to Orin's keep, although the answer given by letter is just 'Yeah, I'll send a few people, good idea Bladeborn!'.
-3: Asked Clan Reverent, Longstrider and Karolus for help dealing with the bandits, didn't tell any of the clans I invited the others though.
For nukes, I'd still go with MAD and them being the last resort button for deterrence.

If you push it, you lose everything automatically. But so does everybody else! So that means you shouldn't use it for random reasons because hey, even if the enemy is dead so are you. But that also means people can't bully you in the corner since the menace is mutual. You nuke me? I'll nuke you!

I think this could and should be used as a deterrent but the option should still be there.

Likewise if you nuke a magical nation which can't (I hope) nuke you back, there would be the fact that for everyone everywhere you will be the big bad guy for ever and ever, expect to be treated like north korea is today, etc. I think its reasonable and that we don't need fancy reasons to make the use of nukes worst, its already the worst case scenario to start with.
@Dinh AaronMk

Quebecois is the french name, we present ourselves to the anglo as quebecers, which is what they call us. I should know, I'm from quebec.

As for the dams, I wouldn't expect to run the mega ones in the north, at least not for now, but there are plenty of them in the lower regions near the St-Lawrence and I happen to know (After 10 years of mandatory history of quebec in class) that to our pride, quebec has since the 70s an expertise in hydro power and all the components for the maintenance and indeed construction of these incredible pieces of infrastructures have been built entirely and solely in the province.

Still however, I have to say regarding the ash that I used this:



So I assumed the ash in such a far away region would be minor and as well, its been quite a few generations since this happened.

As for oil, I didn't know that and I assumed the tech levels would be more close to early 20th century.

Does this tech level apply to everything? Radio, automatic weapons, artillery, cars, tanks, etc...

As a compromise I'd suggest maybe only use a few small dams in Mauricie (Between Quebec and Montreal, north coast) that don't nearly have the production volume as the big ones in the north and have that energy monopolised by the metropolitan areas, so no general electrification.

But if you say no, I'll gracefully accept your judgement.
Name: État Libre de Québec / Free State of Quebec

Location:


History:

The Foundation:


The Anglo-French relationship was never 'good', but adversity only made them worst as Canada, rather than join together in solidarity seemed to slowly disjoint itself, the population center of the Capital in Ontario bickering with east and west as the Great Plains once again were forced to provide oil and food to both the Vancouver Region and the East for what it saw was no valid reasons. After all, Quebec had plenty of untapped reserves of oil and minerals it didn't want to exploit because of 'Environmental' concerns or not to frustrate the natives. So, with all this potential, it had the guts to come to parliament and expect the hard earned wealth of the west to be handed to them freely?

The federal power was unfortunately stretched thin and it was getting obvious that someone would be left unhappy no matter what so the Prime Minister, an english speaking Ontarian already unpopular in Quebec, decided to force the province to exploit the resources it had to support the rest of Canada. The Quebecers of course saw this as not only a violation of their rights but as pure theft as it was perceived that the resources exploited would go to the rest of Canada! (Rather than the reality, which was stay locally but as such allow the west to concentrate on its own problems.) The Separatists of course saw this as water to their mill and gained popularity significantly, so much it looked like a landslide victory for the next elections.

Before that could happen however, Yellowstone happened.

Though some in Quebec said 'Good riddance' to those they saw as their enemies, most saw this as atrocious and fearing the sympathy vote could cost them the election, the leader of the Partie Quebecois decided at the last minute to moderate his position and show sympathy toward the rest of Canada, postponing any referendum on separation until 'the crisis had passed'. He was elected with a majority, but not nearly as much as he had wanted and with severe strain in his government as hardliners screamed traitor in his ear.

The story however now moves to a Lieutenant at the Valcartier military base in Quebec, LT Etienne Boulanger, who saw his unit, and indeed pretty much all the military forces in Quebec shifted west to help manage the crisis. It was understandable of course as it was the most affected area but the Quebecers, who didn't want to be so far from their home and spoke broken english found themselves disliked by both the Albertan civilians and the other military units, which was fine with them because they began to hate their guts as well and earned a reputation for quickly turning to violence to solve the problems and alienated the natives.

The main problem arose however when rumors reached the French soldiers about what was going on back East about how the Provincial Government had given complete collaboration to federal forces and had outlawed strikes, even forcing people to work in the mines and new oil fields to provide for the Anglo scum while their own people were forced to freeze during electricity shortages because their abundant hydroelectric resources were sent west. This combined with the departure East of Ontarian forces made Lieutenant Boulanger and many others convinced that they had been deployed so far East because the Federal forces knew they would rather be loyal to their French Brothers than them and would have fought back.

It was the Lieutenant that spearheaded the mutiny of the Quebecers and led them back to the province, leaving their post undefended against looters and taking the resources they were supposed to distribute to the civilians with them. It wouldn't be enough however and they had to pillage their way to Quebec, something the Ontarians are to this day extremely resentful of. When they arrived, they found that indeed the Provincial Government had gotten cold feet and was now subordinate to the Federalists completely. The troops deployed East had originally been sent to the maritime provinces but had stopped when the locals, having heard their troops were coming back to liberate them, had taken to the streets in a General Strike paralyzing the entire province.

Isolated, this garrison was quickly forced into surrender when the Lieutenant, now self declared General Boulanger, arrived and promised to send them back to Ontario in exchange for their surrender. He would however do nothing but watch as the forces leaving were lynched by the mob that saw them come out. The provincial government tried to change its tune quickly and thank the 'General' for liberating them and proclaim an independent state of Quebec, but he was shouted down by the crowd who saw him as a filthy collaborator only trying to save his skin. A Kangaroo court was held on the spot, he and his most unpopular subordinates hung for high treason against the people of the province while the hardliners formed a provisional government investing General Boulanger with extraordinary powers to bring back order. The state of emergency would never be ended and the 'Généralissime' would, to this day, be the highest office in what is essentially a populist military dictatorship.

L'État Libre


Although the reason Quebec didn't get its electricity from its dams was that the power lines had been destroyed by the ashes of Yellowstone, the Generalissime was quick to blame that on both the English speakers and the natives. The natives had gotten restless for obvious reasons and were now either living in isolation or outright raiding the French speaking towns and villages next to them. Boulanger at first ordered them to stand down but this was just to boilster his popularity and forge an image of himself being 'reasonable'. He then had the luck to see a Mohawk tribe burn an entire village to the ground, making any opponent of a violent solution shut up. He sent one of his most brutal subordinates to do the job and although he ordered 'moderation', it came to no surprise when the situation had devolved to ethnic cleansing. The commanding officer had been left with the impression that this was what Boulanger wanted and indeed it was, but what he didn't know was that Boulanger felt that he was popular enough and violent enough that he was a disaster waiting to happen and so used the opportunity to trial him and execute him as well. This didn't stop the war with the Natives who tried to wage guerilla warfare but this only prompted the Quebecer forces to use discrimination and force the natives in internment camps based on their skin color. The tactic was effective but since there was some food shortages, the soldiers were ordered to take care of their own first which resulted in malnutrition killing off most of the Natives, the rest being forced to flee persecution.

Ethnic warfare would prove to be the Generalissime's favorite tool of control as he subverted the Quebecer's spirit of independence into hate of the outsiders, which made for a united ethno-state in north America. With the constant influence of the military on all affairs however, it made the soldiery become the elite class of people in the new State since while others warned of excessive influence of the military on the state, Quebecers were wary of bureaucrats and pencil pushers taking control of it, feeling a man, a single man, with experience and who understood the plight of the people, was the ideal man to have a vision the people should strive for.

To this end, the Generalissime, always chosen from a small clique of high ranking officers that were personal friends and trusted by the previous Generalissime, generally points the determination of the Quebecers toward the Outsiders just like how it all started and pushes north to exterminate the inuit population that constantly sabotages the power lines from the hydroelectric damns and south west in Ontario to recapture farmland that 'Historically belong to Quebec'. Surprisingly however, the Generalissimes always do their utmost to enjoy a good relationship with the US remnants down the south since the first Generalissime warned that an ethno-state was easy to paint as an unambiguous enemy of all you were and that Quebec shouldn't become the enemy that unites the Americans.
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