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Thread: Mecklenburg: When the bull charges

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    Mecklenburg: When the bull charges

    Mecklenburg: A fistfull of ducats.


    The harbor of Mecklenburg lay quietly under the blazing sun. A rare sight indeed, for the town usually had nothing but rain for the entire year.

    Grand Merchant Jyllan was walking towards the ramshackle building the king insisted on calling his palace. And what a king he was. Jyllan never could understand how the former Merchant Board decided to have a king to rule Mecklenburg. The council itself was more than enough to govern the peasant rebble.

    Rettin who acted as the church's representative always said that God deemed it necessary for every land to be ruled by a king. Jyllan had to admit the peasants were a lot more docile since they had a king, his grandfather (who also held the position of Grand Merchant) always told stories about rebellions every so many months, those were a thing of the past now.

    If they had to have a king, they should have elected one from the Merchant board, a merchant state should have a merchant king. And whom would be more suited then Jyllan himself? He would do a better job than that sniffling fool that they had crowned not so long ago.

    Jyllan's bodyguards both watched their employer as he walked towards the palace, he had been in a foul mood all day, but suddenly he started mumbling and smiling like he had just found a pot of gold at the end of a imaginary rainbow. They looked at each other. They both knew they would never understand the minds of the rich.

    While they were coming closer to the palace, peasants started appearing coming from the palace, screaming and shouting.

    "The king has made a prophecy, the king has made a prophecy.": they yelled.
    Jyllan first thought nothing of it, the peasant were known for the irrational behaviour. But as more and more peasants came running by , he became increasingly worried. It would not be the first time the king claimed to be visited by god and Retting usually fueled the kings delusions. Once upon a time the king decreed that god told him that ships were tools of the devil and all trade should be carried out with carts. It was a good thing Jyllan was with his dementing Majesty at that time so he could make sure that, that decree would never come to pass.

    If however this many peasants already heared the prophecy then there was nothing Jyllan or even Rettin could do. The peasant all believed their King was blessed by God no matter what the fool did.

    "Blois grab one of those peasants for me, would you?": Jyllan requested.
    Blois nodded and grabbed one of the many running peasants. The man didn't not even seem to notice, it was clear his mind was in higher spheres than this one.

    "Peasant tell me, what did that fool prophisize?"
    "Ungrhgh?"
    "Blois don't hold that peasant by the throat, he can't answer me like that."

    "So once again peasant, what did the "King" say?"
    "His majesty has had a vision! The Lord told him what Mecklenburg should do! His Will is clear!"
    "Yes, yes praise the Lord and whatnot, but what did his Majestay say the Lord wanted of him?"
    "We should conquer all the rich provinces on earth and dedicate their riches to praising the Lord!"
    "What? What did you say stinking peasant?"
    "We should conquer all the rich provinces on earth and dedicate their riches to praising the Lord!"

    Jyllan stood flabbergasted. Conquereing all the rich provinces on earth? Had his dillusionary Majestety finally lost all his marbles? They had a single army consisting of a thousand untrained troops. They were merchants and fisherman, not a race of warriors. He signaled Blois to release the peasant and told him to make sure to wash his hands after they got to a stream.

    His mind was working at top speed. He knew that it was impossible to refute the prophecy, he could convince the king that the prohecy was false, but not every single peasant that had heared of the so called prophecy.

    He started walking faster and faster, almost running. He could already see all the merchant vessels burning after a naval battle with the English, he could see the coffers of gold in the Austrian vault, he could see French soldiers wearing the imported furs, he could see Spain plundering Lubeck.

    Now he was running, the palace came in sight, his bodyguards had trouble keeping up with Jyllan, while Jyllan was still gaining speed.

    Jylland ran through the open palace doors, pushing aside screaming peasants. He ran down the corridor and into the room the king called his throne room, an old storeroom from better days.

    There the idiot was, sitting on his wooden chair he called his throne.

    Jylland was gasping for breath, more exhausted than he had ever been. The king looked at him with a faint smile on his face.

    "Ah Jylland my dear friend, there you are! I have some great news to tell you. God visited me!".
    "Go..d..?": Jyllan managed to utter.
    "Yes yes, god! He told me to that we should go out and conquer all of the worlds riches. Then all good believers can live in the rich provinces enjoying herring and all the evil people can stay in their poor lands and suffer!"

    He meant it. He really meant it. There was no way to turn these events back. The screaming peasants had spread the word, Rettin would not help him if there was a chance to spread the word of the Lord, or more specifically the word of Rettin. Jylland wanted to cry. This morning the most pressing concern he had was wether or not the load of furs that should have arrived this morning was still coming or had sunk. Now he had to worry about an insane king that wanted to commit his country to a disastrous war, no not even a disastrous war, but disastrous wars!

    "Are you alright Jylland? You are starting to look very pale. Do you want some herring? That always helps me a lot!"
    "No... No.. My king.. I...ehehehgnen... need to lay down a bit. Please.... Excuse me."
    "Yes of course. You have a lot to do Jyllan. I will as always depend on you to make the prophecy come true"! You have always helped me so much!"

    Jylland stumbled out of the room, where his two exhausted bodyguards had finally managed to catch up.

    "We are going back...." was all he said.

  2. #2
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    Jyllan still could not move from his bed. He had been lying here every since he got back. Even his beautiful home couldn't cheer him up. Not his golden candles not his chandelier, not even the jewels he worked so hard to get.

    All he could think of was flames. Flames raging through the kingdom. Ravaging everything that he and his ancestors had worked so hard to build. What to do? Perhaps he should just move out to another state taking with him his money before it was too late.

    But he would never manage to retain his trading empire. The empire his grandfather was so proud of. Tears of frustration welled up in Jyllan's eyes. His grandfather was such a great man, turning a small trade company with just one ship into a huge trade empire that had entire fleets of trade vessels. If the old man saw even a slight chance to make a profit than he would make sure that he would get every ducat possible.

    Every ducat possible.
    Every ducat.
    Ducat.

    Perhaps..?
    Perhaps he was looking at this the wrong way. Yes the king was an idiot. yes they were absolutely unable to wage war at this time. But wasn't he Jylland a grandson of the man that founded one of the largest companies the world had ever seen? A grandson of the man that went to Byzantium, just to see if there was anything worth trading for there?

    Could he just give up? What would his grand father think if he saw his grand son lying here like a sack of grain? He would be digusted, that is what he would be.


    Well no more!

    "Blois! BLOIS!! BLOISSSS!" Where was that fool when you needed him?
    He heard some stumbling on the stairs and the oaf appeared.
    "Yes sir?"
    "You are slow Blois. But never mind." Jylland jumped out of bed, still wearing the cloths he put on this morning.
    "Get me some riders, I have messages to send. Also ask for McAuliff to come and discuss the state of his troops with me. Ah and let someone tell the king I have a plan".


    If they were to succeed in carrying out his majesty foolish ideas they needed friends. Lots of friends. "Too bad none of the large nations will consider us as possible friends." Jylland thought. "Then we have to settle for the next best thing". He sat himself down at this desk and starting writing the necesary letters. Filled with the usually hypocrisy, but they would serve his cause.




    Some friends to bear the brunt of his utterly insane Majesty's plans.
    Perhaps tools would be a better name for them.

  3. #3
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    The riders were found fast enough. Blois was always quick to find people that wanted to earn a ducat or two.

    Jylland decided not to wait for McAuliff to appear. Now that he had a plan he was bustling with energy.

    He almost jumped down the stairs. He told Blois to take the other oaf whos name Jyllan couldn't remember with him to McAuliff's house. It was time to see if McAuliff would see reason.


    He walked outside with Blois on his heels. The weather was still great, the sun seemed to strengten the energy he felt within him. Perhaps they could conquer some land in warmer regions. It would be great to live somewhere where it didn't rain 300 days in a year.

    Jylland walked down the muddy path that lead to the house McAuliff used. McAuliff was an old Scottish highlander. He fought in tons of clan quarrels and his Majesty was absolutely charmed by the man. Jyllan disliked McAuliff with all his heart. The man was stupid, all he could think of was charging an enemy head on. Even against a 10-1 numerical disavantage. The man drank too much, didn't wash enough and was a general pain in the bum.

    If he couldn't bring McAulliff to see reason (and he already knew and hoped he coulnd't) then it might be time for some change in the military chain of command.

    Jylland and his entourage reached McAuliff's hut. They heared singing from the inside.

    "Blois, open that door. With your hands please, no need for violence yet."
    Blois did as he was instructed. Jyllan was not suprised to see what he saw, McAuliff drinking and singing at the same time, spilling the cheap ale all over his already dirty shirt.

    It took McAuliff some time to see that visitors arrived, but finally he managed to take his attention away from the bottle long enough to mention Jylland and his two body guards. McAuliff's visions of glory vanished within a second. He already knew what was coming. After the great news that there would finally be battle because the Great King had been visited by God, the sour money counter would probably be here to tell him to think of a strategy or to tell him that there wasn't enough money to wage a war or to tell him that his hair was done wrong. The man had no fighting spirit! Perhaps if they would give him a sword and let him charge at the enemy a bit that would change. They might even kill the annoying sod and rid him of problem or two!

    "Ah McAuliff, good thing to see that you haven't passed out already.'" Jyllan started.
    "Ah sod off..."
    "As comprehensive as ever McAuliff. I'm here to talk to you about his Majesty's plans. We got to think this over properly. Devise a strategy. Carefully choose our battles."
    "Ehem? You don't understand anything. Well just attack, everyone at once. Ha glorious battles await....": McAuliff opened up another bottle.
    "Then we will all die."
    "Well yes that's the point isn't it? Fight gloriously and then we die gloriously. I knew it was a good idea to come here."
    "You came here because you had no where to go and his majesty seems to think you are the best general since Charlemagne. I knew there was no point in trying to let you come to your senses. Too bad for you I'm in a bad mood today. Blois if you will." Jylland pointed at McAuliff's sword. Blois nodded and grabbed the sword. McAulliff looked at Blois without understanding a thing of what was happening.
    "It seems an unfortunate accident occurred on this day. General McAuliff was overjoyed with the news of war, drank too much and tripped into his own sword. Sad news indeed."
    "Wha..?" where McAuliff's last words.
    Blois didn't waste time and plunged the rusty sword in McAuliff's stomach.
    Jyllan watched the man dying. "
    "It seems I need to take over from the general from now on." and without knowing a big smile appeared on Jyllan's face.






    So finally the Mecklenburg AAR starts. The goal is simple: I will only conquer rich areas, with more than 25 combined trade/tax income. I won't settle for cheap provinces since that would not sit well with the king I decided to use a bit of a story since I like writing and an AAR like this without a story is like bread without butter. I hope you will all enjoy it!

  4. #4
    Roman LibrAARian comagoosie's Avatar
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    I liked the prolouge. Interesting and to the point.

    And I can't tell you how much you made my day by starting your mecklenburg AAR
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    A very nice prologue. I can quite buy into Jylland's initial panick, but then his realisation of the opportunities the king's ... ambition proffers.
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    Nice prologue, pity you had to do in the Scotsman though
    "We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;/For he to-day that sheds his blood with me/Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,/This day shall gentle his condition:/And gentlemen in England now a-bed/Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,/And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks/That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day" - Shakespeare, Henry V

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    Where shall you conquer first your generalness?
    _[]_ Look at my special hat!!!!!!!!

    rvf e3xs0odei8a8 Wow. Spellin my name with my nose.

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    Going for Paris?

    well, I shall follow.

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    Mecklenburg: Expanding the Hanse


    (Just a small side note : I intended to name Jylland, Jyllan, but for some reason I keep typing Jylland .It seems that's his real name then )


    Jylland walked out the small shack, with Blois and his other guard on his heels. He decided it would be best to immidiatly head out to where-ever his Majesty was hiding and tell him the news about McAuliff's unfortunate accident. He wouldn't want Rettin to talk the king into giving him the title of General, a man of the cloth should stick to preaching to the masses and leave the governing to a man like Jylland. But he guessed that Rettin would beg to differ.

    Most of the time his Highness would be located somewhere near the harbor overviewing his docile subjects, while they were carrying out their meaningless every day lifes.

    This time around his Majesty would probably still be around the royal "Palace" telling anyone who would listen about his glorious vision of the future. To the palace it is then, but not before Jylland ordered Blois to hinder Rettin and make sure he wouldn't reach the palace in time.


    "What? No that can't be true!"
    "I'm afraid it is your Majesty. It seems McAuliff was overjoyed when he heared about your Majesty's prophecy and he drank too much even for his doing, resulting in him tripping into his own sword."
    "But that's terrible! How can we fullfil the will of the Lord without a general to lead our troops?"

    At this point tears had started flowing, it seems his Majesty was not overly concerned with the death of his Marshall, but the idea of not being able to fullfil the will of the Lord seemed to deeply touch this ludicrous substitute for a king.

    "I am willing to take that burden upon me your Majesty."
    "You are?" His Majesty suddenly seemed happy once again, but then his tears started flowing once again. "No I cant ask this of you Jylland. You are not just someone, you are my friend! What if you die?"
    "Don't worry your Majesty, I will make sure to command the battles far, far away from the battlefield."
    "Is that possible?"
    "It is for me, your Highness."
    "Ah that's true Jylland, if anyone can pull that of it's you! Well it's a good thing that McAuliff's death will not mean a delay for God's plan. I really hate to burden you even more Jylland, but I have to put God first."
    "I totally understand, your Highness."

    They heared some stumbling and yelling coming from the corridor.
    "Leave me alone you stubborn ingrate, I have to go to your Majesty. Do you not know who I am? Don't touch me filthy peasant. Don't I know you? You are that megalomaniac's aide aren't you! Did he order you to do this? I bet he did! Leave me be, I am a man of God!"

    The door opened and Rettin appeared. His cloths were a mess and his head had the colour of a tomato. Behind Rettin, the large shadow of what only could be Blois could be seen.

    "Ah Rettin, there you are. Did you have any problems under way?" : Jylland asked.
    "You're damn right, I had some troubles. And your aide is the one to blame!"
    "My aide?"
    "Don't act all innocent in front of your Highness. You now damn well what I'm talking about!"
    "If Blois has caused you any inconvenience, dear Rettin, then I will make sure to reprimande him when we get back home."

    That last comment looked like it would mean the end of Rettin. The veins on his forehead were trobbing like mad, he couldn't even speak. If he would become even more angry, his head would explode.

    "Ow Rettin it's terrible!" : His Majesty finally decided to say something.
    "McAuliff died and it's all my fault. He drank too much when he heared the news and died because he tripped on his sword. Thankfully Jylland is willing to take over. What would we have done without him?"
    "Mmmpphh": Rettin uttered. It seemed his rage had cooled considerably. He was not a man to be taken lightly. He knew the king was fond of Jylland, Jylland had been giving the king gifts collected from all over the world ever since the man had been crowned. He was obviously to late to stop the king from making Jylland general. Rettin had had the same idea as Jylland when he heared McAulliff died. How on earth Jylland got here earlier was a mystery.

    "Well congratulations then, Jylland, you obviously wun this round." Rettin's skin colour had became more like it's usual paleness.
    "It's all for prophecy Rettin." Jylland smiled.

    His Majesty didn't understand what they were talking about, but was glad that Rettin stopped looking like he could have a stroke at any time. Since everyone was smiling now it seemed everything was allright.

    "Well then Jylland, I think you will have a lot of planning to do. I'm looking forward to seeing your plans."
    "I will get right to it your Majesty. If you would excuse me?"
    "Yes yes, I will send you the special general uniform I had the tailors make for McAuliff right away! He won't be using it, I guess."
    "Ehm, thanks your Highness. I will return when I have a plan."
    "Great!"

    Jylland walked out of the storeroom, confident that whatever that snake Rettin would say, his Majesty would not change his plans. It turned out to be a good decision to spend all those ducats on gifts. Perhaps he could set a side some nice parts of the coming loot as gifts for the king. That would make sure that Rettin would not seize anymore power.

  10. #10
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    Jyllan was sitting in front of his desk. He had been sitting there for 9 hours straight. In front of him was a map of Europa, bought recently by one of his captains in Paris at Jylland's request. Jylland always liked to know what the state of the world was. It was important to know whom to bribe and whom could be ignored.

    Looking at the map at this time did not make him feel better as it usually did. He had been confined to his house for days now. Staring blindly at the map. Riders had returned telling him that both the rulers of Brabant and Bavaria had accepted his proposals. They had some allies now, but would that be of any use.

    Jylland had to think of something. They couldn't expand in the Empire itself, the emperor's homelands of Bohemia were too close to risk his wrath. Expanding northwards would cause war with the Kalmar union, Mecklenburg couldn't handle all of that.

    Jylland kept staring at the map as he had been for days now. He heared someone coming up the stairs. Probably Blois bringing him something to drink.
    Blois was a really usefull man, perhaps he should pay more attention to the man than he had done previously. The way he dealt with McAuliff deserved praise and some cold hard ducats. Ducats were the only think people like him would react to. You couldn't trust a Frenchie. A frenchie..

    Jylland looked at the map once more. If he was not mistaken, Blois came from Morbihan or was it Vendee? Pretty rich provinces too. Not allied to anyone of name though. Pretty much isolated.

    Blois opened the door carrying a can of ale.
    "Ah Blois, stay here for a moment.": Jylland pointed at the desk. "Those coins there are for you, Blois. You did a fine job with McAuliff."
    Blois nodded, he never did speak much.
    "But now I would like to ask you a question Blois. You're from Brittany aren't you?" Again a nod.
    "Do you know who their allies are?" Blois pointed at one of the insignificant nations on Eire.
    "Ah, well well well look at that. Do you now anything about the military strength of your home land?"
    "Weak." : was all that Blois said. Jylland wondered whether it was because of his lacking knowledge of German that Blois refused to speak more than a word of two.
    "So they are weak, have just one crappy ally and are pretty close by? Thanks Blois, that will be all." Again that nod and Blois walked out of the room, closing the door silently behind him.

    Looking at the map now did make Jylland happy. Even happier than it would normally do. He grabbed the can of ale and emptied in one gulp. Now he had a clear goal!

  11. #11
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    Attacking Brittany?

    make them vassals... just like everyone else...

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    You couldn't trust a Frenchie.


    A vassal here, a vassal there, a vassal everywhere.

    And show those Brittany people what it means to be under the charging bull!
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    Jyllan had ordered Blois to ask the King for a more suitable mansion in the center of the town. He had many tasks to fulfill and people to speak too, it was imperative that he had quick access to the palace, the harbor and the training grounds.

    The new mansion was progressing nicely, the King had only given Jylland a plot of land, the rest had to be paid up by Jylland himself. He didn't not care, if he was going to be a generalissimo he couldn't receive ambassadors in his old home, nor in the ramshackle palace.

    He slowly walked to the training grounds. All able bodied man were required to take up the sword by Royal decree. Non of them complained. It was better than working the fields. None of them actually expected the country to go to war anytime soon. Two thousand man were being trained, the original battalion was receiving a recourse. Jylland has spend a lot of his money trying to obtain the best mercenaries he could. Not to fight, but to train fishermen to be fighters. It was finally looking more like an army then a herring-festival.

    The harbor was also bustling with energy. After Jylland had some discussions with the Merchant Council they decided to double their effort and try to get their merchants everywhere they could. Every market place worth more than 250 ducats a year will have to have at least 20% of it's turnover going to Mecklenburg, if there is to be enough money to sustain a war.

    A navy would be vital to protect a trading empire and although it was costly , another cog was ordered to bring the total Mecklenburg navy to 4 galleys and 3 cogs.

    That would be enough to transport every soldier overseas.

    Jylland had sent additonal riders to France and Austria, buttering up to those potential threats. Especially if France would intervene in Brittany it could mean a sudden end for Mecklenburgs expansion.

    With sufficient vague promises about helping them in future wars with the nemesis England, France gave in and allowed the Mecklenburgian troops access to their lands.



    "Captain! Captain!!" Jyllan shouted, since the man did not seem to notice his own general approaching.
    "Ah General, excuse my rudeness, I did not expect you here." Captain Kesler was only just promoted, among all the Mecklenburger he was the only one that was able to lead man into combat, or at least so Jylland hoped.
    "How is the training progressing?"
    "Fine my lord, the italian mercenaries you hired prove to be great drill sergeants."
    "How long untill these man are fit for combat?" : Jylland asked.
    Captain Kesler looked at the training man and said: "Well the real training will be the combat itself my lord. What they can learn they have already learned here."
    "So we are ready to move out?"
    "Yes my lord if you wish." : Captain Kesler looked happy with the prospect of war. That was good Jylland guessed, some enthousiasm wouldn't hurt anyone.
    "Get everyone prepared then, I'll sent riders to inform Brittain that we are at war. We must make sure we can make a landing the moment those envoys did their job. We don't want those Bretons preparing properly now do we?"
    "Sir!" : Kesler greeted Jylland and immidiatly started shouting commands at the Italian drill sergeants. A very capable man indeed, Jylland had to keep an eye on him, perhaps it was best to send Blois with the ships to make sure nothing funny happened once victory had been assured.

    Now on to the king, time to tell him what to convince the King that these decisions were made by the King and not by Jylland, it wasn't time to take command that obviously. Rettin would certainly cause trouble. If he wasn't carefull he could end up thrown out of the church.

    "So My king that's a great strategy you thought out!" : Jylland made sure to put as much enthousiasm in his voice as possible.
    "Well yes I am the king aren't I? Yes, so ehm, can you remind me once more, what exactly I thought up?"
    "Of course my King! Our finest captains will take our troops all the way to Eire were we will lay siege to the dispicable Irish that still worship their false gods. We will make sure noone will even think about Tir'Na'Nog ever again! Then we will make them our vassals and move on to the real enemy, the Bretons with their riches, that should be in our hands!"
    "But won't they fight back then?"; the king asked confused.
    "Our troops will be supported by the glory of the Lord, my lord.":besides they had a war already with someone else and are battered: Jylland thought.
    "Ah yes then well , I guess victory will be ours, won't it Jylland?"
    "Ofcourse my king!"

    Excerpt from Kesler's journal:

    Day 12

    Today we landed in Connacht. What a dreadfull nation this is. Even more rain than we have back home. I can't blaim Generalissimo Jylland for not wanting these lands for himself. They sure as hell are poor here. They fielded just a thousand man, with even poorer equipment than we ourselves have. They just charged, it seemed that thinking of a strategy was too much for them.

    We easily beat them even coming right from our ships, after the battle the survivors dissipated, they probably went back to their ramshackle homes.

    Now we are just searching for their king, no idea where he is. This might take some time. This land is just so empty and saddening. Can't wait to get out.


    Day 17

    We found their sad excuse for a king. We had to wait for him to sober up before we could make our demands. Blois did all the talking, which means it was a short conversation. We took all their cash and they promised to be our vassals and send us a portion of their tax. Pretty pointless if you ask me, since a part of nothing is bound to not be much.



    Day 21

    A close escape today. Who would have thought the Bretons had three carracks patrolling their shores? Thank god for our experienced sailors, we were able to make a quick escape and land in Armor. Our fleet quickly moved to a french harbor, even if we are beaten we can just move to French lands. The generalissimo really is a smart guy. It looks like good preparation is key in all aspects of life.

    We have managed to avoid the Breton troops, but I don't feel very safe here. We managed to secure the country side, but are waiting for a chance to catch one of their battalions of guard. The orders of the Generalissimo were clear. The only land we are here to take is Armor, the other rich province was Vendee, but that's their capital and they won't give it up. The Generalissimo told me that we do not have the man power to reinforce our armies, so we have to me very carefull. Thankfully with the aid of some ducats from the councilors own coffers we used our italian comrads to hire some more of their comrads. I can do with them what I want according to Blois, they only cost us money anyways.


    Day 35

    Finally success! We doubled our armies size with mercenaries and chased the Bretons after they foolishly attacked our forces here in Armor. They kept running and we kept charging. We left none of them alive! Well we did leave a lot of them alive, but they all cast down their weapons so that's about the same. It's surely a lot nicer here in Brittany than back home, nice cities, lots of women, lots of wine, lots of ducats, this really is the life!


    Day 38

    We let Blois do the talking with the Breton king as well. The man really has his way with kings. This one also agreed to everything we demanded. They agreed to releasing our German brethren in Bremen, although I really doubt the weight their rule had there. If I'm not mistaken, this means the end of the war! We didn't even loose that many people. The generalissimo is said to get here by a French carrack, courtesy of our French friends.

    Last edited by unddu; 23-06-2008 at 14:08.

  14. #14
    Human Enewald's Avatar
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    Bremen?

    Well, you need Rennes to get to somewhere... or not...

  15. #15
    Armchair Temüjin unddu's Avatar
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    A vassal here, a vassal there, a vassal everywhere.

    And show those Brittany people what it means to be under the charging bull!
    Jylland and his heirs will show everyone the power of the bull

    well, I shall follow.
    Glad to have you on board.

    A very nice prologue. I can quite buy into Jylland's initial panick, but then his realisation of the opportunities the king's ... ambition proffers
    Ambition is what moves history, that's how I feel anway




    Thanks everyone for posting, I hope you all enjoy the ride !

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    Quote Originally Posted by comagoosie
    I liked the prolouge. Interesting and to the point.

    And I can't tell you how much you made my day by starting your mecklenburg AAR
    I knew it!

    Nice prologue btw, I'll be following this.
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  18. #18
    Take the riches and vassalize the rest? Brilliant! Looking forward to seeing this unfold.

    I'm suprised Armor meets your tax/trade income requirements though. I was under the impression Brittany was poor.

  19. #19
    But at what cost? EUROO7's Avatar
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    Now, you should declare war on France. You know, to link up Armor to the rest of your country!
    And one day we will die and our ashes will fly from the aeroplane over the sea
    But for now we are young let us lay in the sun and count every beautiful thing we can see......
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  20. #20
    Armchair Temüjin unddu's Avatar
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    Now, you should declare war on France. You know, to link up Armor to the rest of your country!
    Yeah, it would make sure that the AAR stays nice and short , perhaps I'll do it anyway for some odd RP reason. Who knows what happens?

    Take the riches and vassalize the rest? Brilliant! Looking forward to seeing this unfold.

    I'm suprised Armor meets your tax/trade income requirements though. I was under the impression Brittany was poor.
    I might have slipped when taking Armor, if it isn't rich enough I'll make sure to ditch it. For RP reasons I combined the trade value and the tax value of a province to decide it's value. That might not have been 100% accurate so I'll aim for 8+ base tax provinces from now on.

    I knew it!

    Nice prologue btw, I'll be following this.
    The more the merrier!

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