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Thread: Clash of Empires - The Great Game (IN MP AAR)

  1. #41
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    Leinster, 1399-1411. Part 1: The reign of Art I.



    The Irishman raises his glass. "For Eire!"




    ~*~*~


    Leinster, October 1399.


    Driven by his wish to realize his father’s dream, a large part of Art’s reign was dedicated to prepare his country for the planned conquest. After 24 long years of kissing ass and raising an army, the time had finally come. Today, the 14th of October 1399, he received word from the Royal Court of Denmark. His efforts were finally paying off.

    “My lord.” The messenger bowed before him. “I bring you a message from the Danish Royal Court.”



    “Perfect.” Art smiled. “Tell them we will need their help soon.” Even though he knew the Danish help wouldn’t be for free, he was grateful for it. This enabled him to start what he had been preparing for so long. With a gesture of his hand, he dismissed the Danish messenger. Then he called forth three of his own messengers. His smile widened into a grin. No longer would he have to be kind to his fellow Irish Kings. With Denmark as his ally, they would be no match for him.

    “It’s time. Go to the Kingdoms of Munster, Connacht and Tyrone, and give their ‘Kings’ this message.” He paused, snickering. “Tell those sons of whores that I am the one true King of Eire, and that if they won’t give up their false thrones willingly, I will come and claim them. Personally. Got that?”
    The three messengers nodded in response and set out, all carrying the same message.







    Art smiled contently. Soon, he would march with his armies, to conquer the Irish lands, and none of them would be able to stop him.

    ~*~*~


    A month later, on the 17th of November, the messengers returned. “They will not yield, my lord.”

    “Good.” Art replied. “Tell the bastards of Munster and Connacht that they will see me soon. Tyrone will be dealt with later.” Sending the messengers off, he beckoned at another servant to get him his armour and horse.







    ‘It’s time, father.’ he thought, preparing to leave. ‘After this, Leinster will rule most of Eire.’

    ~*~*~


    Winter came and it was at the start of January of the year 1400 that Art led his army onto the plains surrounding the capital of Munster. He was tired and scarred from the many fights they had fought to get there. In front of them waited what was left of Munster’s main army. He smiled contently to himself, looking upon his enemy. So far, this war had been much easier than he had expected. Fear for his army had spread across the whole of Eire. Also, his ally Denmark had answered his call and attacked Connacht while he was fighting Munster. It all went perfectly according to plan.



    His gaze turned to his own troops, waiting eagerly for his sign. His smile widened and he screamed. “For Eire!” He charged forward. His troops followed closely, storming towards the enemy. The armies clashed in the centre of the battlefield. Before long it was clear that Art’s troops were the strongest, and the enemy started to retreat. Some fled into the city, others into the forests. Victorious, Art gave the order to set up camp and prepare for the siege.



    Only a few days after his great victory, Art got dreadful news. Some of the survivors of the battle invaded his Leinster, and were sieging his capital. He gritted his teeth. Leaving a siege force behind, he took two thousand men back to Leinster, to defeat that pesky army of Munster once and for all.

    Beating Munster wasn’t hard, and it was good to be home for a while. Art pondered the situation and changed his original strategy. Reports on the siege of Munster told him it was progressing slowly, and other reports told him the Danish needed help in Connacht. He would go for Connacht first, and Tyrone was second on his list.

    On his way to the city of Connaught, Art got the message that Scotland had inherited Brittany, and that Brittany’s alliances had been dissolved. He grinned. “Declare war on Tyrone. Now.” he ordered one of his messengers. “The time is right.”





    It didn’t take long for the combined forces to obliterate Connacht’s army. The siege in Munster dragged on, and there was no more real resistance in both Kingdoms. Fourteen months after the original declarations of war, the city of Connaught fell to its knees, begging for peace. Mercilessly, Art claimed the throne of Connacht as his own. He would be the one ruler of Eire, this was only the beginning. On the 17th of February of the year 1401, the terms were accepted.



    Immediately after the signing of the treaty, Art left for Tyrone. He met no resistance, and his troops marched on Ulster.
    On the 7th of April, Munster fell, only a month after Connaught, and surrendered. Here too, the harsh peace terms were accepted, expanding the borders of the Kingdom of Leinster further.



    Finally, exactly a year after the fall of Munster, on the 6th of April 1402, Tyrone had no choice but to yield to Art’s terms. Leinster was the only Irish Kingdom left.



    ~*~*~


    Art felt old and tired, but content. Within the span of two years, he had managed to conquer all the other, the false Irish Kingdoms, and unite most of Eire under Leinster’s banner.

    However, he didn’t get the time to enjoy his victories. On the 9th day after signing the last treaty, Art lost himself in the celebrations. After downing 5 bottles of whiskey, he stood up and waved goodbye to the celebrating people in the tavern. He took two steps, and then crashed onto the solid floor, for no apparent reason. At first, there was laughter. The King obviously had had too much to drink. Then someone kicked Art in his side. There was no reaction, not even so much as a sigh. The room went silent as it became clear that Art had, literally, dropped dead.

    And so the reign of Art I, King of Leinster, ended on the 15th of April, 1402, in a tavern somewhere in Ulster.
    His last thoughts: "That was one hell of a strong whiskey."



    Art I left a partially united Eire to his son, Art II.
    Last edited by Ilyavania; 04-05-2009 at 05:49.

  2. #42
    Lady of the North Star Demi Moderator Saithis's Avatar
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    -=[ OOC: No comments. :o YOU PEOPLE WHO SAID YOU WERE FOLLOWING US WERE LIARS! :P

    Also, I'm terrible at taking as many screenshots as I need. I'll try and improve for next time. xD I also can't be bothered to put any effort into them as they're so many, so enjoy sub-quality art. :P ]=-


    The Dane downs a drink casually, but gets a few strange looks. "Viking, did you know there a steering wheel hanging from your pants?"
    The Dane nodded and said "Aye, it's driving me nuts."


    The first plan for my great nation was ambitious, contentious, and highly dangerous. It was one of great glory and great tradition, one which would reshape the Baltic once more.

    The Danish were going to go raiding.

    The Isle of Gotland was my casus belli, the Kalmar Union was my sword with which I intended to enforce it. The Danish and Norwegian fleets departed together into the Baltic as the declaration of war was sent off. Just two months later, the Kalmar Union fleet caught and engaged the entire Teutonic Transport fleet attempting to land in Skĺne.

    They were wiped out to the man.

    Their ships were sent to the bottom of the ocean, but not before we helped ourselves to their wine and women, of course. The battle wasn't over, though - the heavily damaged Swedish Fleet was cornered in the Western Baltic, outnumbered by a large squadron of Teutonic Galleys.


    Time for heroes' work.


    Meanwhile, the Danish transports were hard at work. My huskarls were hard at work sailing west. What was to the west? Nothing special, but I had promised the Irish King that I'd help him reclaim his lands. A lot of people at the last ting questioned my wisdom in helping them, and the realm was a turmoil of instability because of my decision. I told them to shove it, naturally - Knýtlings are used to instability.

    We thrive on instability.


    So I helped the Celt conquer his old lands...


    The plan was simple. The execution masterful. My ships sailed in the right direction and reached their destination in a timely manner (take that navigators of my ancestry!) and Connaght and Munster collapsed under the weight of the combined armies of Kalmar and Leinster.

    Within a month, any opposition to our forces had collapsed, and we soon left the Celts to their own devices. King Art I was now the most powerful man in Ireland and he owed me - a lot. This alliance would bear fruit in the future, and it would lead to the restoration of Denmark as the single greatest power in the North - no matter what.

    But the Knýtling cause will not be ended. I, Erik of Pommerania, descendant of Saint Knud Knýtling himself, shall bring my wrath upon all who oppose me! All will kneel before the united Denmar-



    ...Guys? Guys? Come on! Quit it! That's not funny! You're supposed to be on my side! We're at war with three nations here!

    I don't understand, everyone loves me! I'm the King, am I not the most beloved figure of Denmark? Sure, we're an unstable nation, but we just wiped out the entire Teutonic Navy in the Baltic and annihilated the Irish dukes' armies. We're the single biggest badasses in the North Sea right now. You're all my friends, you're not even upse-


    ...What?


    ...Why didn't anyone tell me about this?

    We tried! You were too busy with the whores and whiskey in Ireland!

    ...Oh...

    Well, a few executed advisors later and I find myself with a new court of shining fellows.



    Like this fine young man. May his blessed bosom produce much success for our merchan-

    Sire, the country is absolutely wrecked, we /have/ no merchants.

    Oh...well, it's a good thing we can mint more money, right guys? Right?

    ...

    Right?

    Right.

    Let's move on then - time to plan the invasion of the Teutonic Order. During the time I was messing around in Ireland, they built another half a dozen galleys or so. These were again, annihilated by our mighty fleets. That means there's only one thing left to do. Use all of this mighty fine money to build ourselves an army!



    The Norwegians did me a favour for once and took out Gotland. The useless Swedes are sitting around Skĺne with 8,000 mans. MOVE YOU USELESS BASTARDS! Oh wait, that's right, you sent your cogs out unprotected and lost them, didn't you?

    Siiigh, if you need a job done right, leave it to a Dane. I start to mint even more money to build my army up...

    It's a good thing this reckless spending isn't going to have any long term consequences, right guys?

    ...Right?

    ...RIGHT?!



    ...Nnnnnnnnngg...



    I land a small taskforce of infantry on Osel. The Teutons move to respond, albeit slowly.

    A few weeks later, the islands fall and the Teutons have 12,000 men ready to launch a counter-invasion of the islands. Silly sods. They succeed in driving me off the islands, but fall straight into my trap. The Danish galleys move in to blockade the island and keep any movement across the straits impossible.

    I move in for the kill.



    The Teutons have somehow mustered up yet ANOTHER squadron of galleys. They are destined for the bottom - our combined fleets are more than enough to deal with a handful of ships here and there.

    News reaches me that the Scottish have inherited Brittany. That's not so bad, right? After all, what relevance do they have to Denmark? We're a mighty power nowhere near them, they have no reason to fight with us...



    ...What? You say they have claims to Orkney? Why didn't anyone tell me this?!

    According to my intelligence, the Scottish have a total fleet capacity of 10 carracks and 5 cogs. Damnit. Damnit damnit damnit.

    The Scots sail straight into the Baltic and force me to send most of my fleet to the Skagerrak to counter them. The Teutons, seeing an opportunity to break the blockade, sail out and hit my weakened galleys blocking the straits.

    Curse this damned Knýtling luck!!! It's as if the world conspires to hate us! WHAT DID WE EVER DO TO YOU, SCOTLAND?!

    ...Besides rape and pillage your country for a thousand years, of course. Not that anyone cares - the former should do wonders for improving your bloodlines. Hey, that's a good point, you guys should be thanking us, right? Who agrees with me?

    Uh...

    I said who agrees with me?!

    We all do, of course, sir!

    Damn right you do. Now send word to the Teutons - we'll give them peace in exchange for the land we already hold. We can't afford to fight a war on two fronts, not with the Swedish army sitting around with their thumbs up their collective asses.


    The fruits of our labours.

    To be Continued...
    Last edited by Saithis; 04-05-2009 at 15:12.
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  3. #43
    Your Friendly Dictator Grubnessul's Avatar
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    ... And gets cut open by an exotic scimitar...



    The time for desperation is upon us. Let's play.
    - Zeddicus "Zedd" Zu'l Zorander, Sword of Truth series


    Letters from Byzantium

    Chapter II: The Tides of Darkness

    (Back ground music)


    "28 of August, the year of our Lord 1400 the fortress of Naxos, the Duchy Naxos

    My dearest Helena,

    It has been far too long since you heard anything from me. The war against the Duchy of Naxos has gone well and the Duke has surrendered his sovereignty over the islands in the Aegean. With Naxos secured, we will set sail to the east, to subdue the kingdom of Cyprus again to the Empire. Although both the Cypriots and Achaeans continue their foul presence in Morea, I am confident that the king of Cyprus will have no choice but to surrender his kingdom whence we’ve taken the fortresses.
    Do not worry for me, my dearest Helena, our fleet outnumbers the Cypriot one and the weather has been fair so far. I pray that we may overtake Cyprus by next year. Please pray to our Lord God and all his Saints for our safety.”
    - a fragment from a letter from Manuel II of the Byzantine Empire to his wife Helena, given the personal style it is safe to assume that Manuel II was very found of his wife.





    “ 20th of June, the year of our Lord 1406. Much has happened since the last time I was able to write; we have now sailed all around the Aegean, in an attempt to conquer the small crusader states scattered around. Although I see no point in it, those fiendish Turks we will never defeat with these small patches of land scattered around. But what can a Roman do but obey his Emperor? We’ve fought on the isles of Naxos, on the plains of Cyprus, even at the feet of the City.* Now, it seems that this pointless campaign is at an end, as the Prince of Achaea is about to make his last stand here in Morea. With him removed we will soon march towards his principality and finally get this nonsense over with and we can go back to waiting for the Turks to slaughter us all at our own hearths with our women on our knee. I do kind of look forward to the siege of Morea in all fairness as there is nothing like recently liberated Roman women.”
    - A fragment from the diary of a Roman Protokentarchos** in the army of Manuel II







    “Hope had never been so rare in the Roman Empire as in 1408, when the Ottomans launched once again a much dreaded invasion. And against all hopes, the old Manuel II send out pleas to the monarchs of Europe, fearing that he would die on the walls of Constantinople alone.”
    -A fragment from ‘Contemporary History of the Roman Empire’, 2009 Constantinople University Press

    “Our Imperial Father was a true Roman! A man worth to stand next to he forefathers of old! Worthy to look Gaius Julius Caesar in the eyes! Worthy to sit next to Augustus Caesar! Worthy to rule from the City of Constantine the Great! Worthy to command the armies of Justinian! Our Imperial father started a process only a few could have foreseen, let alone belief would be possible! Who would have thought the selfish Regars would be reunited within the Empire?
    Yet, even He could not defeat the Turks as they cowardly backstabbed us! Had he been given a few years of peace, he would have succeeded! A few years, to rebuilt his Legions! A few years to rebuilt his fleets! However, this is not how it went! Now the Turks and their faithless dogs, the Serbians are at our doorsteps, it is now that we must fight for our very existence! Our father could not carry the burden of the Crown anymore; he died in his armour, resisting the Turks! It is His example we should follow! He showed us the door, We shall pass through it!
    The Turks are strong indeed, but not invincible! We still have the courage, the strength and the discipline of True Romans! Above all else, we stand not alone in this fight! All of Christianity but the Turkish dogs have turned against the Turkish hell spawn and their ships and armies sail and march south as we speak!
    We do not claim this will be an easy war, but we will win this war! In the words of Our Imperial father: We shall win through, no matter the cost!”
    Emperor Thomas I’s coronation speech, short before he and his army were forced to retreat deep in Ottoman territory



    “Come on you apes, you want to live forever!?!”
    -Rumoured to be a quote by Domestikos tōn Scholōn*** Kastor Phouskarnaki as he let his men into battle during the legendary battle of Edirne



    “Although the battle and siege of Edirne had a marginal influence on the war of 1408, it did have a tremendous impact on the Roman moral. While the Serbian and Turkish armies sieged Constantinople, Thomas I besieged the Turkish capital in return. As both sieges proceeded, it was the Emperor’s hope that he could end the war by trading capitals. While their main force lie around Constantinople, a Turkish army rushed down to liberate their capital. Against all odds, the outnumbered Imperial Army not only withstood the Ottoman charge, they also inflicted serious casualties. As shortly after the battle the Danish and Bohemian forces started to have a noticeable effect on the war this battle would often be considered a turning point in the struggle against the Ottomans. However, it would not be until the ‘Concession of Athens’ that Roman hope would be fully restored again.”
    -A fragment from ‘Contemporary History of the Roman Empire’, 2009 Constantinople University Press








    “Considering the effort of the nobles of Athens in their struggle against the Venetians and Turks alike;
    Considering the dire need of the Empire;
    It is our Imperial wish that:
    Article I: Athens will be once again considered a part of the Empire, with all accompanying rights and duties.
    Article II: The Nobles of Athens will fully be enlisted in the armed forces, until the liberation of The City, the defeat of the Turks and their allies or until it pleases the Imperial Court.
    Article III: An Libertum veto will be instituted.”
    - The famous first 3 articles of the ‘Concession of Athens’, signed by Basileus Thomas, First of his name on the 7th of December, 1410.





    “And lo, I heard the thunder rolling over the plains of Greece and as the lightning of our Lord they crushed the heathen Turks. And lo, by flame and sword, bow and thunder the Kataphraktoi of the Holy Virgin decent, upon the enemies of our Lord. It was as the land sang with the roar of their thunder, it was as the angles were singing with the ring of their steel.”
    -A few of the surviving lines of the poem ‘The Kataphraktoi of the Holy Virgin’, written somewhere at the end of the war of 1408 by an unknown clergyman.

    *Constantinople
    ** Protokentarchos - commanders of a smaller division of the army in the field. The name was derived from the Latin centurion.
    *** Domestikos tōn Scholōn (Domestic of the Schools) – the commander of the Scholai, originally a number of guards units, later a Tagma. This was a very prestigious title, and by the late 9th century, its holder functioned as commander in chief of the army. In ca. 959, the post was divided, with one domestic for the East and one for the West.

    RemAARks:
    Pretty hectic first years, Anchaea and Cyprus resisted more than they usually do and it took quite long to annex them, I'm really happy with my incredible 6 star discipline advisor or things may have turned really ugly. Also, both my kings turned out to be fairly decent generals (2 and 3 shock IIRC).
    It's really bad luck the Turks attacked this soon, if they had waited a few more years I might have had the navy and army required to stop them. On the other hand, Athens joined me, which was an incredible luck as it gave me the 6 cities required to institute the libertum veto. Only too bad I had to disband most of the infantry it gave me right away as the costs would bankrupt me within a year, but the cavalry will proof to be very useful in the future.

    Last edited by Grubnessul; 04-05-2009 at 15:22.
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  4. #44
    Human Enewald's Avatar
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    Woot, MP world domination aar, just as I like it!

    Go Romaion, the World is yours!

  5. #45
    First Justinian's Empire (sans Italy, I guess), then Alexanders, and then beat Alexander and go for India! Go Romanion!

    I hadn't commented yet due to AP exams. Very good AARs. I am following- I just need time... Also, Delhi- kill the Timurids when the rebels pop up. Then, you can take his unstable land and crush him. Death to Timur and his brood!
    Last edited by Hannibal X; 05-05-2009 at 00:12.

  6. #46
    Subscribe definitely
    Looks very interesting, if a bit confusing. Sorry, but I prefer more detail oriented AARs as opposed to narratives

  7. #47
    2009 Stanley Cup Champs Chicken's Avatar
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    Great writing guys! I love this format. Hopefully you'll get into epic wars with each other so that we can have multiple perspectives of the same thing. It should be hilarious!
    “I celebrated Thanksgiving in an old-fashioned way. I invited everyone in my neighborhood to my house, we had an enormous feast, and then I killed them and took their land.” - Jon Stewart
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    #21: You can silence me but there will be others. Semper Fidelis Tyrannosaurus!
    Dr. Killinger: It's Sic Semper Tyrannis. You said, "Ever faithful terrible lizard."
    #21: I did? Cool.

  8. #48
    Lady of the North Star Demi Moderator Saithis's Avatar
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    EUROO7: What, no love for Denmark? Viking doctors are the finest in the land! I should abandon Byzantium to the Turks just for that!

    Enewald: See above.

    Hannibal X: See above.

    red head guy: Well I'm aiming for a more picture and light text oriented AAR with this one, as opposed to my usual narrative style, so I hope you enjoy it. :P

    Chicken: Oh don't worry, epic war will come...IT WILL COME... Muahaha...or something.



    The Viking spontaneously left to go on a pillaging spree.


    Maniac? MANIAC? Only some kind of...of...dwarf would think I'm a maniac. I'll show them, I'll show them all how maniacal I can be!

    ...Well?

    ...In my own time. Now, about this French situation...the Scots inherited Brittany, yes?

    Yes sire, it is as seen here:



    Well isn't that just dandy. It's a good thing our navy is in tip-top shape or we'd be in real trouble...



    ...Oh...

    Well it's a good thing declaring war on one of us means declaring war on all of us! The Scottish may be able to beat me on the water, but they can't take our armies on with Sweden dominating the Scandinavian peninsula, right guys?

    Actually, Sweden is not a part of this war...

    What? Why not?! I rule Sweden!

    Yes, well, you see...it doesn't work that way...

    Why not?

    Because it doesn't.

    That's the stupidest thing I ever heard. Guards, execute this man posthaste!

    So the war against Scotland had not started well. In other, less exciting news, I've taken a new irishwoman as my wife, and the Kalmar Union is rich enough that I can afford a few little extra indiscretions...I'm looking at you, Burgundy.



    Yep, I've got a pretty good view of what's going on in Eastern France, and words fail to describe the massive cluster@#$! going on down there...

    I think the word you're looking for is fubar, your Majesty.

    Fubar? What the hell does that mean?

    It's German, your Sire.

    Really? Huh, the things you learn every day. Wait, who are you? I don't recognize your colour.

    My name's Tobias Lillienskjold. I'm your new General, the best in all of the Kalmar Union.

    Well you better damn well be, I paid 32 ducats to hire you. Do you know how much that is? For 32 ducats, I'd marry a hors- oh wait, I already did. For free, too. Damnit. Damnit damnit damnit. I need to learn to start charging for these things.

    Very droll, your Majesty. You have a mission for me?

    Yes, yes I do. While the Scots are busy, something else has come to my attention. There's a young artist named Edgar, Edgar Howard. His name is only half as boring as his looks, I assure you. He's been writing great poems about God or some other such unimportant thing.

    ...



    He'll be the perfect distraction for the next plan. The Scots have offered me a white peace. Yep, they're so afraid of us that they don't even want Orkney anymore. The fact that I made love to their Queen has nothing to do with it. Nope, nothing at all. Did I mention that I did the Scots' queen?

    Sire, you are the worst Christian I have ever seen.

    Thank you, I'm also the best Knýtling you'll ever see. Now go get me some grapes or something, I have a war to plan and I'd like to look regal.

    A war?



    Behold, Oldenburg. Our ancestors historically had great interest there - now /I/ have great interest there. Brunswick will undoubtedly protect them but the rest are cowards. Bohemia is busy and they agreed to leave us alone. They can't afford a war, not with what's going on in Greece.

    What's going on in Greece?

    Oh, apparently the old Turk decided to try and finish off the Greeks and the Pope called for one last Crusade to free Christendom or some other nonsense. Anyway, Bohemia and Flanders have been trying to kick the Ottomans out or something. I hear it's going fairly well.



    Constantinople fell? We have different interpretations of very well.

    Yeah, well...

    ...

    ...

    ...Right...so, Oldenburg. 6,000 cavalry are departing for Brunswick tomorrow morning, the Swedes and Norwegians are going to land on the coast of Oldenburg.

    So you wish me to lead your armies?

    No, no, I'm saving you for more important affairs. I'm going to lead this one myself, for honour and glory and other such things. Also, I don't trust any of you buffoons to do the job properly.

    So why the hell did you hire me?

    Good question. Go sit in your room for awhile and think about it. Meanwhile, the March into North Germany begins!

    The plan was simple.





    Its execution was masterful.

    Oldenburg was annexed and Brunswick would fall within the year. 3,000 Danes were loaded onto ships and departed south for lands exotic...it was time to make my mark on the world.

    Sire, where are you sending the men now?

    To Greece, you fools!

    WHAT? We don't have any friendly ports! Our fleet is in bad enough shape, what is your problem?

    Well, a few things. One, the Pope is a bit sore about that little gift I sent the Burgundians in their war. Two, the Pope SCARES ME and I'd like to have someone around who could counter him. Three, the Byzantines pay well.

    Sire, with all due respect, our economy is already in shambles - we should be recovering from this war, not-

    Execute that man! Tobias, come hither!

    You're a bloody lunatic!

    Shut up and get on the boat. You're going to lead this attack force yourself. I will send my troops to come join you as soon as Brunswick is dealt with. Today, the Baltic - tomorrow, the World!

    Why the hell should we sail to the OTHER SIDE OF EUROPE for this?

    Uh, one: I'm the King.

    Two: I'M THE KING.

    Now get going. I'm not just making decisions on a whim here. I have a reason for this, the same way I had a reason to help the Irish unite. Now do as I say, if you want this country to succeed! Anyone who disagrees is a damn dirty traitor!

    ...Good.



    The plan was simple. It's execution, as usual, masterful.

    The Ottoman army in Greece was wiped out to the man thanks to Tobias's masterful leadership. There was no room for incompetence in my army, and he had performed adequately.



    The Pope and I cornered the Ottoman Fleet and were in the process of annihilating every last ship.

    It seemed the Crusade was a complete success and Danish prestige was skyrocketing (admittedly, so was our inflation).

    Yes, it's good to be the King. Soon Greece will fall back to Byzantine hands, the world will be slightly less crazy and I'll be able to go back to living it up, drinking and whoring like a proper viking with no consequences.

    Yes, nothing could go wrong now...right?

    ...Right...?
    Last edited by Saithis; 06-05-2009 at 14:47.
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  9. #49
    Human Enewald's Avatar
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    Knýtling?
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    I won't believe that!

    Knýtling deserve Scottish queens!

  10. #50
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    Quote Originally Posted by Saithis View Post
    [b]EUROO7:

    Yes, nothing could go wrong now...right?

    ...Right...?
    Execute this man!
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  11. #51


    ... I’ll muster all the beautiful women for my pleasure, but first, some ale



    I wait, I wait … I wait … some more … still waiting, still …

    Seriously! Where are the women? I’m powerful enough to amass the most destructive armies known to current times, and yet I see NO hawties bound me, feeding me, and massaging me, and, and telling me how beautiful I am … and, and, Goddamnit! What does a King have to do in order to attain incessant lovein’ and be surrounded by stunning beauties?! Is it too much to ask for?

    … Oh, oh wait! Seems like that Ottoman Kingdom over there, with their conceited, antisocial views, has some mighty fine lasses’ for me to lay my hands upon … hehehe.

    You there! Start rounding up the men, able or not; we got a nation to capsize, and it’s going to involve plenty of seduction and manpower to do so.

    Godspeed! err, I mean: phosphorus hunt!


    So, the call to arms from the unnamed Bohemian King to obtain … women, began. Wish him luck; he’ll need it ….


    Last edited by KingAMD; 06-05-2009 at 01:06.

  12. #52
    Corporal Artell's Avatar
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    "And I don't think of myself as that 'Indian' anyway..."

    ***


    Sultanate of Delhi



    March 1400


    Nusrat Shah had sent out an interception force to keep Lucknow from falling into Bihari hands.



    All of the magnificent officers of the land were underground busy plotting rebellion, or so the Sultan at least suspected, so the army was being commanded by the worst general he could have possibly found. They seemed to be of the most loyal sort.

    "The Bihari army is stronger than expected", General Saikander warned him. "We need to muster more troops, Your Excellency."

    "We need to supply them", the Sultan said unhappily.

    "You could always halt the rebuilding of the city. The trade in Bihar will more than compensate", Saikander suggested.

    The Sultan shook his head. "Absolutely not. Delhi will be rebuilt as quickly as possible. I am the Sultan. I will simply mint more coin."

    Saikander, having no formal education in macroeconomics, thought that this was as good an idea as any, and nodded.

    "Now wait just a second!" someone interrupted them. "Your Excellency, excuse me", the Master of Coin walked in to the chambers.

    "Ah, my new advisor!"

    "Yes, indeed I am, your new advisor, my name is..."

    "Yes...?"

    "Excuse me, I need to check back on page one, I forgot. Wait a minute, he posted the wrong overview image!"

    The Sultan stared at the man. "What on Allah's earth are you talking about?"

    "Just a moment... there we go...



    ... I am Daulat Khan Hussein, Your Excellency."

    "Yes, of course you are, right", the Sultan said. "My cousin." He cleared his throat. "You were saying."

    "Yes, yes. Minting more money. I realize it sounds good."

    "It sounds magnificent, good man", the Sultan pointed out.

    "But it has its drawbacks. Do you know what inflation is? I would assume not. Imagine, if you will, that the nation has a limited supply of money, like blood, flowing through it, its veins, if you will. But if there's suddenly extra blood in the veins, it has to go somewhere, yes? Because it doesn't fit in. So it will start bleeding. That's not a good thing at all, Your Excellency. The nation bleeding? Think of that for a moment."

    "I fail to see where this is metaphor is going at all", Nusrat shrugged. "Make the preparations. Mint all the money we need to raise the required regiments. I''m off to the front."

    Leaving his advisors to run the country from Delhi, Nusrat took the saddle and rode to meet the enemy face on in Lucknow, where Bihari reinforcements had arrived to push away the Delhi interdictors.



    And Nusrat, armed with meagre military aptitude and what's more, more men, drove the invaders away into the Bihari province of Oudh, where another battle was fought.



    With more regiments being raised from able-bodied of Delhi, the small nation of Bihar didn't stand a chance. Apparently, one of the feuding noble families had decided that declaring war on the neighbouring giant of a sultanate would bring inner unity. It would bring unity but not under Bihari nobles.



    By October, the last fortress in Oudh relented, and the Sultan forced the divided nobles to choose a King, who could then sign a peace accord, relinquishing all lands except Bihar itself, and allowing Delhi merchants inside its walls.



    Meanwhile, the Sultans of Sind and Gujarat, and the King of Rajputana were embroiled in a deep border conflict. Bihar had fallen so quickly because one of the noble families had sought an alliance with Rajputana to reinforce their position, so while Bihar burned, thousands of their soldiers were fighting in Sind, while Gujarat made inroads in Rajputana.

    Meanwhile in the south, a strong pretender to the Sultanate of Deccan had risen, taking over several provinces.



    Sighing a breath of relief, figuring that his neighbours would be busy fighting each other for the next few years, Nusrat turned his eyes towards the northwest again. The Timurid giant needed to be brought down if he were to have his revenge, but to do that, institutional reforms were necessary. More tax money was needed to fill up the coffers, if he was to wage a successful war against Timur Lenk. The reforms brought a segment of the Hindu population in Lahore to boiling point, and Nusrat's new army was forced to put it down.

    Deciding against letting someone else lead the troops - heck, they might just defect to the rebels - the Sultan headed out to Lahore in early 1402.

    However, while crossing a ford that would come to be known as "the Sultan's Ford", Nusrat's horse tripped, bringing the Sultan down with it. After getting crushed underneath the horse and trapped beneath the water for minutes, he succumbed to his injuries the same night.

    The army was taken over by his second-in-command, who surprisingly continued the task of putting down the rebellion in the northwest.

    Meanwhile in Delhi, the unmarried, childless Sultan's nearest blood relative stepped forward...



    "Hussein is such a terrible name anyway. Such baggage", Daulat Khan thought. "Who's ever heard of someone called 'Hussein' becoming leader of anything?"

    ***


    Writer's note: My screenshot-taking is a bit of a mess since this is my first AAR, and I have to use a low resolution which means the chat window will take up a lot of real estate.
    Last edited by Artell; 06-05-2009 at 12:47.

  13. #53
    Huh, A trade advisor as king. Good works guys i like it all.
    Ottomania: A Muslim quest

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  14. #54
    Human Enewald's Avatar
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    Omg, is that possible!

  15. #55
    Corporal Artell's Avatar
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    More likely it was just a coincidence caused by the limited number of names in the Delhi name file, but when I noticed it I took it and ran away with it.

  16. #56
    so far looks like one very exciting game.

    Look forward to seeing if the Danes can be stopped from thier world conquest.

  17. #57
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    Leinster, 1399-1411. Part 2: Long live the King?



    The Irishman shouts: "The King is dead, long live the King! ...Right?"




    ~*~*~


    It was early in the morning of the 16th of April 1402 when the messenger arrived at the castle in Leinster. He ran in the throne room and shouted: “The King is dead!”

    The young Art smirked. “So, that bastard finally bit the dust, did he?”

    “Quite literally, my liege.”

    “Good.” He paused for a moment, before turning to another man. “You, make preparations for my coronation later today.”

    Art couldn’t wait. Now his father was gone, it was his turn to rule. That afternoon, he was crowned King of Leinster. He stood in the courtyard of his castle. His castle. Finally. He spoke to the assembled masses in a slightly sarcastic voice.

    “People of Leinster! Sad news reached my ears this morning. My dear father passed away late last night. The King is dead!”

    The masses knelt before him. “Long live the King!” was their reply.

    Art was a young man, only 18. His posture was majestic, his intelligence and drive, however, were not. Basically, he was the opposite of his father in almost every way possible. His father had been a short, driven, charismatic and intelligent man. Art himself was tall, lazy, ordinary and dumb, even though he would never admit that last part. He had never been any good at anything involving people, except for fighting them.





    Although he wouldn’t admit it, he knew he needed advice. So, he appointed three advisors to help him rule. Two of them, Joachim Sanders and Martinus Agno, were clever bankers. They helped Art with creative accounting, to reduce the country’s debts. The third, Helmut de Turckheim, was a skilled diplomat. He had a way with people, and he took care of international business, in Art’s stead.



    Art was happy now. He had despised his father with his entire body and soul. He had never been there for his son, he had always been too busy planning his precious conquest.

    ‘And the moment he won, he died! Ha, serves him right!’ Art thought to himself as he sat down on his throne.

    “Well, well, dear brother. You must be happy.”

    Art looked up and stared into his older sister’s cold blue eyes. She was a 28 year old beauty, short and slender, with long red hair and freckles on her cheeks. She was the widow of a knight, who died in one of the recent wars, and had one son. He was the spitting image of his grandfather, and was now 12 years of age.

    “You’re damned right I am.” He chuckled. “My time to rule has come, sister. And neither you nor that son of yours can do anything about that.”

    “Just you wait, little brother.” she replied. “You won’t be ruling for long, I can promise you that much.”

    Art scoffed at her, his eyes filled with contempt. He despised her. She was just like their father. He needed a way to get rid of her and her son, soon, or they would get rid of him, he was sure about that.

    ~*~*~


    The opportunity that Art needed came soon. In June 1402, the King of Denmark sent another message.



    Art didn’t hesitate, and instantly offered him the hand of his sister. The King accepted and Art said farewell to his sister and her son, grinning. He was obviously very pleased with himself. He would never see her and that awful son of hers again, and he was grateful for it.

    Lazy and stupid as he was, Art II wasn’t a great leader. He couldn’t be bothered to order his local governors around, and, soon after he married off his sister, he gave the local governments even more responsibility than they already had.



    ~*~*~


    The next months passed quietly. Summer slowly turned into fall. Absolutely nothing happened in the Kingdom, there wasn’t even the slightest sign of any trouble whatsoever. Most of Eire was united, and at peace. Art’s sister was safely in Denmark, and the merchants abroad were doing great, competing with merchants of major powers, like the Danes and the Ottomans.

    Then, on the 4th of September 1402, some rumours reached Art’s ears. Apparently, the Pope himself had excommunicated Burgundy from the Holy Roman Church. Art snickered when he heard the news, and praised himself for his country’s good relations with the Pope. Leinster would never be excommunicated! He was proud of his country. Clearly his rule was a good one so far.





    ~*~*~


    More months passed, and fall gave way to winter. Art’s bankers noticed that Leinster’s trade income dropped steadily. After a short investigation, they came to the conclusion that the Danish traders were so good at what they did, that they kept competing away Leinster’s merchants. There was only one solution.

    “My liege, we are losing money.”

    “That’s old news, my friends. Leinster has been losing money forever.” Art replied, uninterested.

    “The merchants, my lord, they...”

    “Last time I checked, the merchants were fine.” Art looked up. “Aren’t they?”

    The banker shook his head. “No, sir. We are experiencing heavy competition from the Danish merchants.”

    “Then do something about it! Don’t bother me with this!”

    “Already working on it, my liege. We simply need your signature and seal, for this trade agreement, before we present it to the Danish King.”

    Art grunted. “Sure.” He scribbled his signature on the piece of parchment his advisor held out to him, without even looking at it. “The seal is in my working chambers. Feel free to use it.”

    The bankers bowed. In December 1402, the trade agreement was offered to, and accepted by the King of Denmark.



    ~*~*~


    Eighteen months passed, without as much as a negative tiding from anywhere. By the 19th of June 1404, Leinster still fared well, stable and united. Art yawned. The expression on his face was dull as he leaned back in his throne. He called for his advisors and trusted friends.

    “I’m bored. Entertain me.”

    The three hesitated, looking at one another. “Um... Sire...” one started.

    “How about... we threw a party?” the second one said carefully.

    Art’s eyes lit up a little. “A party! That is a great idea, my best man!” He jumped to his feet. “Alright, tell me. What did you have in mind? Many young girls and loads of whiskey to enjoy, I presume?”

    “Of course, my lord.”

    “Arrange it! Tonight, this castle will be filled with fun!” Art smiled contently as he sent his advisors away. “I always have such brilliant ideas.”

    Later that evening, the castle was filled with guests and music. As Art had requested, there were many young girls and loads of whiskey to enjoy. And enjoying himself he was. The party was about to turn into a massive orgy, when suddenly a young boy appeared, a sword at the ready in his right hand. The boy smirked as he saw Art’s surprised face.

    “Hello uncle. Didn’t expect to see me today, did you?” The boy looked around. “Oh, and by the way... nice party.”

    Art hissed through his teeth. “I thought I put you and that wretched wench of a mother of yours away in Denmark!” His eyes were filled with anger. “You are ruining my party, boy. What the hell do you want?”

    “Your life and your throne.” The boy grinned. “En garde, uncle!”

    As he saw the boy leap towards him, Art jumped back. He ran towards the fireplace and took the sword that decorated the mantelpiece. He faced the boy. “Silly boy...” he muttered, and hiccuped. He was drunk, but miraculously, his skill in duelling wasn’t really affected by it.

    Both Art and the boy were competent swordsmen. At first, Art seemed overwhelmed by the boy’s skill, but he fought back vigorously. They moved back and forth through the room, and at some point, even up the great staircase towards the balcony. After a while, Art managed to hurt the boy badly, slashing open a large wound on his leg. The boy yelped and ran towards the railing of the balcony, limping. He looked down, and without hesitation, he jumped. He groaned as he rolled over the hard stone floor. He let go of his sword, feeling a stinging pain shoot through his leg. When he looked at it, he realised his leg was twisted in a strange way. He tried to stand, but failed, wailing in pain.

    “Oh no, boy, you’re not going anywhere!” Art shouted as the boy jumped. He smiled satisfied when he heard the boy's wail. He glanced around quickly to see the party guests watch the duel in awe, spotting the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. He could jump towards it, and swing onto the platform that bore the throne. He nodded to himself. This was the best idea he had ever had. He had already won. The boy was down, waiting to be slaughtered. What could go wrong?

    He climbed onto the railing and leaped, successfully grabbing the chandelier. Dangling from it, Art swung back and forth two times, to make sure he would have enough speed to make the next leap towards his throne. The wooden ceiling creaked, and then, without further warning, cracked, just as Art was about to let go. The chandelier fell from the ceiling. Art, still holding on, was crushed by its enormous weight. He died instantly.

    The boy smirked. “Who’s the silly boy now, uncle?”

    The boy tried to push himself up, but failed. Seeing him fail, a lovely young girl, maybe 16 years old, pulled him up. He smiled at her. Then he turned towards the guests.

    “My uncle is dead. He left no sons. Therefore, I, Art III, claim the throne of Leinster as my own, as is my right. The King is dead!”

    “Long live the King!”


    And so the very short reign of Art II, King of Leinster, ended on the 19th of June 1404, in his castle. His last thoughts: "Wow, I never knew that chandelier was so heavy."
    Last edited by Ilyavania; 10-05-2009 at 16:26.

  18. #58
    Your Friendly Dictator Grubnessul's Avatar
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  19. #59
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    Damnit.... I liked Art and his whisky, parties and trade agreements

  20. #60
    Human Enewald's Avatar
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    How artful..

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