La Colonie is a Compagnie Royale Settlement located in Sultani Island along the Coast of Africa. It is protected by two watchtowers and is the target of Hammer & Plunder.
La Colonie is found on the lower central area of the Coast of Africa. Sail through the canals of Rova Hill and head northwest past the Reef Sea.
La Colonie Possible Loot[]
Purchase or Plunder the following[]
The following items can be purchased or plundered from the point of interest mentioned above. Purchased items will be of limited stock that refreshes after an hour. Plundering, however, will, more often than not, yield more loot at the risk of getting sunken by the settlement's defenses.
Best Commodities to Sell to La Colonie[]
These items are usually the highest in demand in this region. Prices of certain commodities may vary at times, but it is best to sell these particular commodities here to maximize your profit.
Midnight Massacre[]
La Colonie, known for its abundant trade, lies subdued and quiet in the wake of war.[1]
It is, ordinarily, not without faith, for a nearby church stands proud on a secluded island but a short distance away by sail. Yet the pews now sit empty, the bells silent -- for God has abandoned the townsfolk here to their misery and defeat. The occupied settlement may still fly French flags on its walls to appease the remaining civilians, yet in each corner stands a Dutch soldier, and the stench of lingering death is still strong in the air.
It is a smell that leaves your breath shallow, throat tight. Pungent and sharp. An amalgamation of decay that scratches as it permeates your lungs.
You have docked in La Colonie a mere week after the supposed massacre. Dutch Merchant Company presence is high even as the conflict has already been driven north. Here, they resupply and rejoin the fray. Whether you feel a sense of victory or concern in the presence of these soldiers lies solely on the side you have chosen. The nauseating bite in the air has a source: bodies piled high adjacent to where you stand, obscured by only the flimsiest layer of cloth sheeting.
Your eyes are drawn beneath, where a lone hand reaches out -- cold, grey, and still. In death, faction loyalty is but a line of an obituary, a needless fact. On both sides, lives have been lost and names will be forgotten. In whispers and accusations, people have spoken to you of the destruction that took place, unaware of which allegiance you have claimed, but eager to share their pain nonetheless to any ear willing to listen:
Ships hoisting Dutch colors and pennants descended on the unsuspecting town as the bells chimed midnight on that fateful day. They tore through the populace with malice. Broadsides from the harbor wrought devastation on the watchtowers and fortifications alike. Ascended weaponry is a cruel enough fate at sea, and an even worse one when turned on brick and mortar. Quick and precise, the attacks were coordinated, executed, and concluded.
La Colonie now lies bruised and battered in the wake of this. By the looks of the soldiers you pass by at the docks, both sides are equally worse for wear. Splints, bandages, limbs blown off; now wrapped and caked in blood.
“Now that’s a face I didn’t expect to see.” Your attention is broken from recollection as a voice breaches the deathly silence of the streets. “I’ll be damned, Captain, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”
The man who approaches you is as familiar as all those of his trade are. A liaison to the Helm, a friend to The Abyss. He is a stocky man, clad in French fancies, rounded cheeks and wide eyes. Yet his gaze is tired, his gait stiff, and the smile you have grown accustomed to doesn’t quite stretch as far as it once had. There is, however, a sense of relief in seeing your presence. You’ve a hold full of supplies to trade -- supplies La Colonie is in desperate need of.
Sixteen crates, ranging from medical kits, gin and dried meats to sugar cane and rum. Your crew already busies itself in offloading the crates from the hull to shore. Though these are common supplies that may have once provided sustenance for a month, considering the current situation, they are but short-term aid for the people here. For you, it is nothing but coin to further your enterprise and efforts in this war.
The liaison lets out a held sigh as he passes you, eyeing the crates being stacked high. “Wonderful, merci, merci, mon ami(e). (Thank you, thank you, my friend.)” His gaze lingers on the supplies longer than needed, before clearing his throat and returning his gaze to you. “Booze’ll do the folks good. Lift some spirits, drown some sorrows. There’s a lot of them to douse, you see. I suppose you’ve heard the tales?”
You nod.
“As I thought. I saw it first hand,” He frowns, “Came out of the dark like shadows. Cut down everything in their path. The cannon fire too... Those blasted weapons, worse than any artillery I’ve seen. Saw a shot hit the marketplace. Folks were choking and wheezing, as if the Plague King himself were waltzing through it.”
His words are quiet, careful not to catch the attention of nearby ears, “If you ask me, it’s a little too convenient. Dutch dogs aren't known for being subtle. They bark and bite. They’ve got their prize now though. Nothing left to fight back when the rest of their damned fleet arrived come daybreak.”
As the liaison speaks, further up the docks your eyes are drawn to a small group of DMC soldiers making their way towards an adjacent Frigate in the harbor. In between ranks of armed men, walk battered bodies of French prisoners. From this distance you can see that they are clad in soot and dirt, their eyes downcast. A march devoid of life in the direction they are being led.
“...Taking them to Grand-Fort.” The liaison muses dismally, having followed your gaze. “Lads’ll be nothing but forgotten names once the year’s out.”
Nameless soldiers following orders, defending their people, and facing the consequences of both. One captive stumbles and falls. The hands of an adjacent artilleryman prevent him from hitting the ground, and rights him before he can do so. It is not clear whether the act was done in pity or in care. Perhaps they only seek to bring a broken soul so far: down to submission, and not to death.
The answer, however, eludes you. As it eludes historians, who will seek to record these years on parchment; should such a loss of dignity and life be considered significant or noteworthy.
Trivia[]
The name La Colonie translates to The colony. It may also be a reference to La Colonie, a comedy by French playwright Pierre de Marivaux, published in 1750 where on an island in the middle of nowhere, women have decided to seize power. It is a satire of society denouncing the institutions of Marivaux's time.
One of the notable landmarks of La Colonie is a church built on a small island in the middle of the cove which the settlement occupies. Indeed, churches and Christian crosses are a common sight at many Compagnie Royale settlements. Historically French Catholic missionaries worked in the extensive colonial holdings in Africa, with the French missions seeking to convert natives to Christianity whenever possible. Many military expeditions often included monks and priests who could spread the word of Christianity.
