The Adventures of the Crovan Clan 2: The World Is Way Too Much

Erik II “The Pugnacious” Bardsson Crovan

Emperor of the Crovan Empire, King of the East and West Vikings, Pontifix Maxmimus, Lord of the Skraelings, Scourge of the Rus, Terror of the Welshies



The Czar Is Humbugged Yet Again
(16 April 1575 – 4 August 1577)








“Well, it’s been a while since the Great Tapestry Debacle, so I went ahead and commissioned a pair of new maps. The first one, shows the Crovan Empire. Things look good except that I am somewhat disappointed to notice our “Land” trend for naming new provinces has ended. Skraeland would have been a better name for the native’s old territories.”







“And here is the other map, of the lesser-important places in the world. Russia, our most dangerous foe, is in the process of consuming the Balkans. Bohemia and Mecklenburg are still pretty big players and the Hated Brahe have begun exploring and claiming parts of Skraelingia for themselves.”

“But enough about our enemies. I want everyone to notice, I have finally found a way to get our dead-beat cousins out of Crovan Scotland…I have made them lords of Portugal! This move helps assure us of friends in Hispania and can in no way whatsoever backfire.”







“We have also received news that the Sino Expedition has reached Massachusetts and is settling in to winter and repair ships. Par for the course for Admiral Torgeirsson.”







“I’ve also increased the size of our Battle Fleet to 16 Caravels, since the British Navy gave us so much trouble in the last war.”







“Now, with this naval increase…”







Aksel slipped into the room quietly and stood by the door, raising his hand for permission to speak.







“Um, yes Aksel?”







Aksel winced. “Sire, please forgive this really, really, brief interruption of what I really, really hope was not a ‘reverie,’ as you like to call it.”








“Spit it out man, before I spit you.”







*** climbs an invisible rope ***







“Sorry sire. I have just received an embassy from your cousin King Bren of Portugal. He has, it seems, inadvertently caused a war with Wales, who are supported by their allies Russia and Sardinia, and is requesting your help.”







…







Aksel was breaking out in a sweat. “The, er, good news, sire, is that you wouldn’t be the only one coming to King Bren’s aid. Um, well, Poland has as well.”







“Wait? Did you say Wales is the leader of the alliance?”







“Um…yes?”







Erik jumped to his feet, delighted. “Ha! That fool Czar Aleksandr never learns! Aksel, tell Dan he commands the Russian Fronts. Tell him to take Breslau and hold it whatever the cost.”







“At once, sire, Aksel turned and fled, grateful to still be alive.”







“I’ll show Dan. He’s not the only war-lord around here. Torsson! I must prepare for war, alert the Transport fleet commanders to prepare the ships, I shall be taking the Imperial Marines and the Army of Norway with me, so they need to be ready to move 45,000 men as quickly as possible.”







*** Salutes before marching about the room shouting silent commands in a military fashion. ***







Erik contemplated this spectacle for a moment, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip. “This little act is fast becoming tedious Torsson.”







*** shakes in his invisible boots ***



From the acclaimed 1986 CBC Documentary “Skule’s Mistake – The Blunderings Of the Palian Branch of the Crovan Dynasty”





“This time, Erik wanted to make certain he got all the glory, so, taking 45,000 men, including the vaunted Imperial Marines, he stormed across Wales and their Spanish territories in an orgy of violence, plunder and mayhem so massive that it gave rise to the ‘risqué’ slang term ‘A Good Eriking’ for certain unmentionable bedroom antics, which are not appropriate for discussion on this documentary.”







“Meanwhile, as everyone expected, Dan lost badly against the Russians, who consumed the Army of the West as well as the Army of the Spur – 40,000 irreplacible Crovan soldiers in a six-month campaign across the Baltic coast.”







“What Czar Aleksandr did not notice, however, was Prince Dan and the Army of Germany, around 25,000 soldiers, camped out in Breslau, a strategic Russian province.”







“When news reached the Czar of Wales’ unconditional surrender- and their inclusion of Breslau in the peace deal – he was predictably upset. Of course, he also packed his armies up and went home, outwitted yet again by Erik The Pugnacious.”

“The Spanish gains were quickly given away to Castile and those ingrates in Portugal who immediately…”







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Erik II “The Pugnacious” Bardsson Crovan

Emperor of the Crovan Empire, King of the East and West Vikings, Pontifix Maxmimus, Lord of the Skraelings, Scourge of the Rus, Terror of the Welshies



In Which Babies Are Treason
(27 August 1578 – 31 January 1583)








Erik burst into Dan’s apartments joyously. “Fantastic news brother! The Sino Expedition has not only opened a route to the Indes, but they even set up a colony on the African coast line…Hey! What the Hell is going on in here?”







Dan cradled the tiny bundle in his arms. “Isn’t it grand Erik? Ragnhild has given birth to our first child today!” Dan held the tiny child up for the Emperor to see.







“Wah, wah, wah”







“It’s a boy, we named him Erik, after you!” Ragnhild added, nervously. Dan’s wife was terribly afraid of the Emperor.







“What? A son? Named Erik?” Erik eyed his brother suspiciously. “So, Dan, do you have Imperial Designs for the lad, naming him for me and all?”







“What?!?”







Erik was getting worked up. “I’m serious brother. I am not positive, but this seems to smack of treason, you getting an heir before me.”







“But, but you’re not even married Erik…I’ve been married to Ragnhild since you put her father on the Portuguese throne…my getting married first was your idea!”








“Still, Dan, I will have my eye on you. And on him,” Erik replied icily. “I expect you in the throne room immediately, there is a situation that requires you, if you can take a break from your plotting, that is.” The Emperor then stormed from the room.







“May Olaf preserve us Dan, you don’t think he’d hurt us do you?”







Dan regarded his small son for a moment. “Not if I can help it.” Dan lapsed into thought.







“Well? Do you have a plan?”







“No…no, little Erik has just peed on me and I’m wondering if I have time to change before the council meeting.” Dan shook his head as he handed his son to Ragnhild. “Still, I shall send a message to your father. I think I might have an idea.”


As Dan walked into the Imperial Throne Room, the meeting was already in progress





“So, as you can see, I was left with no choice really. He broke character and disgraced the Art of mime by speaking. As Emperor of the most artistically savvy nation in the world, I had no choice but to let go of his legs. That he landed on top of Lady McGregor is clearly not my fault, but rather Torsson’s. The petition for Weregeld is denied.”







“Of course, your Majesty. I shall let Lord McGregor know at once.”







Erik shot a glance at his brother’s late arrival before continuing. “On a lighter note, I have decided to appoint an actual Poet to the Laureateship this time. Meet Erik Arnesson. Erik will, of course, grace us with a composition.”







Arnesson rose and bowed, nervously. “It is a pleasure, gentlemen. I have a hymn I’ve been working on, it isn’t complete, but I think you will enjoy it. It is called, ‘In the Holy Morning of St. Olaf: A Hymn Sung as by the Shepherds.”

“COME, we shepherds whose blest sight
Hath met Love's noon in Nature's night ;
Come lift up our loftier song,
And wake this Son that lies too long.

To all our world of well-stol'n joy
He slept, and dreamt of no such thing,
While we found out Heaven's fairer eye,
And kissed the debauched face of our King ;
Tell him he rises now too late
For breakfast has passed, tis after eight.

Tell him we’ve seen far more
Than he e'er show'd to mortal sight,
We see your designs spread all about,
Wine bottles emptied, he drank all night :
Tell us Olaf, where hast thou been,
Alone with the sheep all night it seem.

OLAF.”







“Wow! That is magnificent! You’ve really captured the essence of Our Lord St. Olaf!”







“Now that that is behind us though, we have something important to discuss. Jutland. Our truce with Russia will expire soon, so this may be our only chance to claim this land”







Since they have no allies besides Flanders, we should be able to mop the floor with them.”







“I shall charge the Imperial Marines with the conquest of our Patrimony, Jutland.”








“I don’t expect their tiny navy will pose many problems,”







“So the Army of Scotland should be able to move about the core Mecklenburgian territories at will. My brother Dan will, of course, join me with the Army of Scotland."

"Dangerous place Dan, you’d best be on your toes.”







“Of course brother, I shall prepare to depart at once. But please, give me leave to write my father in law, about the birth of his grandson, of course.”







“Certainly. Tell him I said ‘hi’.”







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Erik II “The Pugnacious” Bardsson Crovan

Emperor of the Crovan Empire, King of the East and West Vikings, Pontifix Maxmimus, Lord of the Skraelings, Scourge of the Rus, Terror of the Welshies



In Which Homework Is Avoided
(1 February 1583 – 23 November 1583)








From downstairs, mom’s voice could still be heard loud and clear. “Eric! Are you doing your homework?”






“Ugh. Yes Mom!” Eric sat at the computer. He was bored. Mom was downstairs making dinner. Time to goof off.







“This crap takes forever to load. I don’t even know why they made a second one.”






“It’s just like the original except with ‘massacre villagers’ and you can play to 1820. Whoop-di-do.”







“I mean, they didn’t even add in the option to play as other countries, it’s Crovania or nothing!”







“Now, now Eric, you know perfectly well that the developers changed their mind after the meeting with the Ministry of Fun. Remember, they are in this business to make money, and to see their families again, so stop complaining.”







“I know mom, I just think it would be fun to play as Russia or Bohemia or something.”







His mom smiled indulgently. “Very funny, little mister, and do you think it’d be fun to wind up with your father in a Re-Education Camp for 20 years?”








Eric smiled in an ‘aw-shucks’ kind of way. “No mom.”







“Good. Now turn off the game, little mister. You have a paper to write.”







“Okay mom, sorry.” Erick turned off the game and surfed onto the interweb.







“Let’s see…Erik II…death…outhouse.”



later, at dinner





“Wow mom! I think this is the best Turkey-Loaf you ever made!”







“Well thanks kid-o! I got the recipe from Old Mrs. Jenkins down the street. So, tell me how the paper is going?”







“Great! I learned about how Erik II conquered Jutland, and was going to take Brittany too when the Portuguese started a war with Riga and Tunisia.”







“Now Eric, Mr. Wilson said you are too focused on war. He wanted this paper to be about something else.”







“Oh it is mom! See, back then, the Portuguese Crovans were our strongest allies, so Erik had to end the Mecklenburg War and rush down to help them. He took his brother, Emperor Brain-Dan with him.”






Mom wagged her finger, “now Eric, this still sounds like war.”







“Well, it’s not, see. Dan’s father-in-law was the King of Portugal and they thought Erik was going to do something real bad to Dan or his kid, so they…”







“So they what, little guy?”







“Well, that’s just it. I was looking it up and I got a great idea for my paper.”








“I’m on pins and needles here kid-o.”







“Mom, do you have any idea how many Emperors die or are murdered going potty? It’s like the leading cause of death! Only Bear-Attacks come close! I’m so writing about Emperors dying on the can.”







Mom wrinkled her nose. “Such nice dinner talk. Ha ha, better watch it next time you poop kid-o, don’t forget, we’re Crovans too!”







Eric smiled his ‘aw-shucks’ smile again. “Aw mom, we’re just ‘von’ Crovans, not real ones.”







“That’s true son. Real Crovans don’t get sent to Re-Education Camps.”
As mother and son shared a laugh, Mom sighed and ruffled her son’s hair. It was a good day.







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