Past and Present (sort of), A No Screenshot AAR!

[Threedog43]

Having been inspired by many a great AAR on this forum, I have decided to write my own. As the title said there will be no screenshots, but this may change later on. I will play as the Duchy of Argyll (sp?) and I will try to create a Pan-Euro empire. This will be coupled with a story in an alternate present day with the descendants of the ruling family.
My first update will be posted shortly, and I will try to post at least once a week. Enjoy!

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Reserved for eventual Table of Contents

[Threedog43]

Past and Present (sort of)

Chapter 1
2013 Anglo-Scot Kingdom: Michael Loarn had lived the first 26 years of his life in extreme luxury. That was far from surprising, as his family had controlled Europe for centuries. Oh maybe after the rebellions of 1887 the Loarns had given up direct control of the government of the European Commonwealth, but they had complete control over the financial markets and still had complete hegemony over England, Wales, and Scotland.

However, now that he was 27 things were going to be a bit more trying for Michael. Not that the age of 27 was very special, but he shared his birthday with his father, Malcolm Loarn. On this birthday Malcolm Loarn turned 65, and 65 was the traditional year of abdication.

All of this lead to the fact that Michael was in direct line for the throne. However his younger brother John had an equal claim, as the Loarns had had a Salic law for generations. In olden times, the successor would be the heir with the most land, or the highest title. However in this day and age the Anglo-Scot kingdom was no longer a feudal kingdom. As such, the successor would be chosen based on the amount of military service and the rank.

This year, on the other hand, there had been no wars of late. It seemed that the mainland had finally been lifted from the dark ages, and no longer saw the constant warfare of the past. This meant that no intervention from the Loarns to protect their interests were necessary, which had been a rarity in all the history of Europe.

They had to go back to before the Great Rebellion to 1756. In this year the king had tried to expand his own personal wealth, and had kept all his land in his own personal possession. Both of his sons had served poorly in the military, and no amount of dignitas could save them from attaining no gain in rank or prestige. The solution had been simple and brutal. They had a match to the death.
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Michael Loarn walked reluctantly down the hallway to the field of battle. It was actually a football field that had been converted for the purpose. It just seemed unreal to the prince. Here he was, in the middle of the modern age, walking to a fate as ancient as time. The setting just made it all the more surreal. Not one day before he had come to watch a match!

He entered the field to fanfare and an announcement of his name over the loudspeakers. He walked across the bare field to the center of the arena, shaking nervously yet trying to hold his composure. There was John walking from the opposite side. When he entered the noise became deafening as most of the spectators had been saving their screaming breath till both the contestants were on the field.

John reached the center of the field. The royal brothers looked at each other for a moment with a touch of sadness and regret. They embraced, briefly, and as they broke away Michael saw tears in his brothers eyes. He thought on this with contempt till he realized he was similarly afflicted.

As he walked to the other end of the field, Michael could see snipers and other bodyguard types patrolling all around, and he thought of the irony of this. Here they were two men, coming together for the express purpose of the death of the other, and there were the men charged to protect both of them letting it happen!

The absurdity of it all almost got to Michael, and he almost broke down right there. He managed to regain his composure, so for the rest of his life he would wonder whether he would have laughed or cried.

He reached the other end of the field and received his weapon, a berretta sniper rifle, with a telescopic scope. This had been decided on after much debate amongst the royal courtiers. Some had preferred more traditional methods such as swords or axes, while some swung towards the more high tech (one man even going so far as to suggest a tank duel!).

In the end, of course, they decided on a duel with rifles. Both men would be given 5 round clips and would alternate firing, with the elder Michael firing first. It had all sounded so civilized at the time, but now that the moment had arrived it was anything but.

Michael looked through the sight of the rifle and held his breath. This first shot would have to show how well calibrated the scope was, so he aimed directly at his brother. He squeezed the trigger, but barely heard the shot because of the crowd surrounding him. The shot landed far short, and now it was John’s turn to fire. He shot quickly and went far to the right of Michael’s prone body.

Michael then chambered another round, and adjusted his aim a notch higher. He squeezed the trigger halfway, held his breath, and fired. This round went a little to the left of his brother.

John’s next shot was again far wide this time to the left. Michael really took his time this turn. Time seemed to stretch out as he embraced the rifle’s trigger. He could have sworn that he could see the bullet as it ripped through the air towards its fleshy target. It then struck home in his brother’s shoulder. His scream pierced through the stadium, and the crowd suddenly became quiet, the implications of the actions in front of them just starting to sink in.

It was John’s turn to shoot again, but his shot went wild as he winced from pain. Michael’s only objective at this point was to put his brother out of misery. He fired and hit John in the head. The sound was the most sickening he had ever heard, and the sight… he would never be able to describe how disgusting he felt after seeing the explosion of blood and brain.

Now he was being shuffled along with a pistol being thrust into his hand. He crossed the field an was standing over his brother’s body. The men around him motioned to the body then to the gun then back again. Michael felt sick and fired into the corpse so the men would let him turn away.

The announcer came over the loudspeakers, “Ladies and Gentlemen, with the ceremonial close quarters shot completed, Michael Loarn is now officially the next king of the Scottish kingdom!”

The crowd came out of its stunned stupor and resumed its crazy shouting. John’s body was taken off the field and Michael was hustled away by security to a waiting car, a car to the destiny of the world.

[Threedog43]

I will have another update in a little while, maybe someone will even read it!

[Threedog43]

Past and Present (sort of)

CHAPTER 2:


5 days later: Michael Loarn had gone through hell, and had come out the other side. He had agonized over John for three days, consumed over the sickening ritual he had gone through, standing over his brother’s limp corpse, the spray of sickeningly warm blood.

Though they had never been close as brothers, they still had a liking for each other. One might even go so far as to say there was mutual respect between the two of them. The day after the duel, Michael had gone to Ulaid, the site where his ancestors had first stepped outside the borders of their native Scottish duchy.

Michael had always had a great love of history, and he spent much of his time visiting the old battlefields, almost a millennium old. He spent those three days wandering the ruins of cities long dead. Places no one but Loarns were allowed to visit for hundreds of years.

Then on the third day, he decided he had to be strong, like his ancestors from old. He convinced himself it was right to have killed John, as he would have made a terrible king. John was weak and stupid! He deserved to die.

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He was staying at an old hill fort that had once served the Loarns after they had taken control of Ulaid. It was not the most comfortable place to stay, but it gave Michael a connection to his long dead relations. Plus he was awaiting the news that his father had abdicated the throne, so he could hardly feel unhappy.

On the fifth day since John’s death, Michael sat in front of the t.v. that had been brought to the fort for just this occasion. His father had said that he would make an announcement on this day, of great importance involving his son.

Michael was waited on by a team of servants as he awaited his father’s appearance on screen. They brought him wine and good venison, then quietly left the room, so he was completely at peace. He was just finishing his wine when the screen faded out to reveal a small, Spartan room with his father staring into the camera.

At 65 Malcolm Loarn still carried a formidable presence. Though he had a relatively small frame and was never very muscular, he had an energy that was indefinable. This energy was focused through his eyes directly at the viewer, as if he was speaking directly to you. It was a face designed to intimidate, and it did its job superbly. However Michael wasn’t cowed by it. He was no longer impressed by his father, even when they were in the same room. He had simply grown to used to him.

His father started to speak, “I am known as a man of few words. I do not engage in meaningless chatter, as it wastes my time and the world’s. This being the case, I will not talk of Scotland’s long, victorious history, or mention our proud heritage. I have called this conference to simply state that I will not abdicate at this time.

“This in no way reflects on my son, Michael. I simply feel that I am not done ruling Scotland and England and being a beacon for the world. I will abdicate when I feel my work is done, and my son is ready. Until that time, I will continue to be the beacon the world follows. Goodnight.”

The picture switched back to a stunned news anchor. He started blathering on about this being unprecedented, and they would follow the story as it developed, but Michael heard none of it.

All he could hear were the words, “I will not abdicate at this time. I will not abdicate at this time. I will not abdicate at this time. I will not abdi…”

Michael got up slowly from his seat, seething with rage. A servant came in, but immediately scurried out when he got a look that would have wilted a lion. Suddenly Michael punched the t.v. screen right in the anchor’s smug little face. His knuckles were now bloody, and he came to his senses.

He went to a room were no servants were allowed. It was were Maelsnechtan the Great had commanded the battles of Ireland. He had met with advisors, plotted over maps, made bastards all in this room. It seethed with history, and, in consequence, Michael felt at home here, with his ancestor.

He felt drawn towards a pile of books this time. Most were old ledgers, filled with bureaucratic nonsense about grain shortages and money deficits. But it was one book at the bottom of the pile that he was drawn towards. It was thick and seemed quite different from the others lying on the pile

Inscribed on the front of the leather was the Loarn family crest. Intrigued Michael opened the book and saw it was a diary of sorts. The top of the page read, “ The diary of Maelsnechtan, the rightful king of Scotland.” Michael gasped. He had found the diary of Maelsnaechtan Loarn! This was the most significant find in Scot-Anglo history!

He sat down with the book, forgetting all his troubles. Everything inside him washed away to absolute bliss at the thought of what was contained in this tome. Michael took a deep breath and began to read…

[Threedog43]

Well... it seems it will take a while to get the actual gamepla updates done, but hopefully I will have one tomorrow, definitely by the next day.

BTW I'd love to get some criticism, as I know the first two updates are confusing, and have poor grammar

[General_BT]

Ah.. such was the "civilized" nature of dueling all too often. So the Scots-English have turned dueling into a vast spectator sport? And I'm interested in hearing Maelsnechten. Will you be proceeding in a history book like fashion, or more narrative?

[Threedog43]

I find myself having trouble deciding on how to proceed, in that I know what I want to do with the story, but I'm not sure how to translate the game onto paper. Hopefully I'll be able to post another update soon.

[Threedog43]

Past and Present (sort of)

Chapter 3:

From the diary of Maelsnechtan Loarn (18yrs of age):

I have decided to record my thoughts and actions to be passed on through the generations of Loarns. After the momentous events down in England this very year I feel anything is possible! I have been thinking on how to gain control of the crown, and I feel the only way will be to secure a more powerful position somewhere, and that somewhere will be the Eire.

January 1, 1067: I have decided to find myself a wife, for the current heir to the throne is my sister’s boy, and I want the line to continue through me, not my worthless sister!

At first I scoured Ireland to try to find a way to secure a legitimate claim on the land there, but found no eligible brides forthcoming. As such I settled on a lovely woman from the king of Scotland’s court named Margaret Aetheling. She has, unfortunately, no real royal ties, and she is three years my elder, but she is a beautiful woman, and I hope to love her and produce many heirs.

February 10: Today I have received the happy news that my marriage proposal is accepted. Tomorrow I am to meet my bride and be married. I could not be more happy!

March 21: My wife has now missed her time of the month, and we are sure she is pregnant, I can only hope it is a boy.

But there is equally momentous news today. I have laid a false claim to the count of Ulaid in Ireland. With this I should be able to gain a foothold.

May 25: Today is a sad day for my duchy. Gillebridgte Grant, a loyal courtier, approached me a few days ago about appointing him spymaster. I told him I would think on it.

After a few days he got tired of waiting and started making a fuss among the rest of the court. As the position of spymaster is, by definition, a secret, he left me with no choice but to rebuke and exile him. This is made more unfortunate by the fact that he had an exceptional talent for taking life.

June 15: I have decided to re-organize my court, which has been sorely needed since my fathers time. The most important of these is the appointing of Gillebrigte of Moray as my marshal. This will no doubt have importance in the immediate future with my coming military campaigns.

My second appointment of importance is that of the spymaster. This position has been given, reluctantly, to my pregnant wife. Apparently, it was her position in the court of Scotland, and she is willing to reprise it. I’m still not sure how I feel about it.

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At this point Michael was snapped out of his reverie by a knock on the door.

“What the hell is it?” He shouted.

“Sir,” came the timid servants reply through the door, “Your father’s staff has informed us that he will be arriving shortly.”

“Thank you.”

Michael sat in the decrepit room, with his thoughts still on the tale of Maelsnechtan. Then he finally processed what he was told. His father, coming here! Rage engulfed him, though not violent anger, as before, but calm and calculated. He would finally confront his father, he would claim what was rightfully his!


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Apologies for the poor and rushed quality of the update, but there you go .

[morningSIDEr]

I very much like the format of the AAR, both past and present being displayed together, both of which seem equally interesting. I think its no surprise the duel took place in a football stadium. After all football games in Scotland provide just as much blood and violence as any duel, simply less deaths!

Colour me subscribed.

[Threedog43]

I very much like the format of the AAR, both past and present being displayed together, both of which seem equally interesting. I think its no surprise the duel took place in a football stadium. After all football games in Scotland provide just as much blood and violence as any duel, simply less deaths!

Colour me subscribed.

Someone is enjoying my writing !!! Thank you very much for the kind words (I'll even forgive you for the "u" in color ). Indeed I love your AARs and I'm quite pleased you enjoy mine.

Update coming later today.

[Threedog43]

Past and Present (sort of)

Chapter 4:

Malcolm Loarn was despised by all the servants. In fact he was despised by most of the staff working with him. They went so far, as the code for his current location was known as, “Castle Anthrax.” Of course, if he had ever found this out he probably would have needed a new staff.

He entered the castle of Ulaid with the same presumptuous air he had whenever he entered a room. He immediately summoned his servants to crème bullet and a bottle of Chardonnay, though he needn’t have bothered, as he was quite predictable.

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“Enter Michael,” came the deep voice that greeted the young heir as he knocked on the door. “Please, have a seat.”

They were in an intimate room with candles providing the only light. It could have been a warm, cozy room, had it not been for the presence of his father. For, while on television he gave the appearance of a big powerful man, in private he seemed to almost shrink. His company, while still imposing, showed how tired he really was.

“We need to talk son,” he said.

“About what?”

“About your inheritance,” came the reply. “I thought you might want an explanation for why I’m not giving the throne up yet.”

Michael stayed silent. He didn’t want to fall into a verbal trap his father would often set up when dealing with those he deemed “inferior” which so often included his sons.

“I’ll take your silence as a yes,” Malcolm said. “The reason I didn’t give up the throne yet is simple, you don’t deserve it. I cannot tell you how disappointed when your brother died. I considered granting him land simply to allow him to gain the crown, but I have important work that couldn’t be disturbed.”

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To be continued...



Sorry, but I did promise an update, then forgot, then decided to pump something out, then decided watching Craig Ferguson was more important than finishing an update .

[morningSIDEr]

Malcolm seems a very hard man, I'm intrigued to see how things pan out between him and his no doubt hugely annoyed son.

[Threedog43]

Update coming soon, maybe today. As you'll see it doesn't pan out well.

[Threedog43]

Past and Present (sort of)

Chapter 4, the startling conclusion

“I couldn’t have your or your brother derailing my life-long work.”

“How do you know I would have hurt whatever it is your doing?” Asked Michael.

“Quite simply, you are Scottish,” his father said with a painful expression on his face. “As hard as it is to say, we Scots have never been known for our ingenuity. Most of our advantage has been from the fractured nature of the continent. Even after they broke off, their fractured nature prevented any monopoly on technology.
“What I’m working on is a weapon of terrible destruction. It would have the power to destroy whole cities in one blow. It’s the most awesome piece of weaponry devised, but it unfortunately takes time and vast space to create.
“You or your brother would simply not have the patience to wait for results. You probably would have murdered all the scientists after 6 months. Which brings me to my main point. You would have no idea how to use such a weapon.
“I will use it to bring the Loarns back on top. We’ll be far more powerful than the Orientals, or the hodgepodge of the continent. Hell, we could even subjugate the primitives in the west. But you, you would use the weapon itself, rather than its threat, and this would lead to destruction.”

Michael sat in an enraged silence. There were no words he could use to express what he was feeling. How dare his father, the one who orchestrated the Munich massacres, accuse him of being an ignorant, unsubtle, brute. He opened his mouth to shout his disdain, but found no words.

“I can’t have you unhinging everything I’ve worked for, so you simply cannot be my heir. Fortunately, I have another possible claimant to the throne.
“Arthur, will you step out here please.”

The door opened revealing a tall muscular man, with a shaved head. He had round, in descript facial features, the only noticeable attribute was his startling piercing eyes. They almost reminded Michael of his… father.

“Michael meet Arthur, your half brother. He is currently the only surviving Loarn besides myself and you. Of course, he is a bastard, but I can easily legitimize him when I find myself without an heir.

“Which won't happen you stupid old bastard,” came the cold reply from Michael, finally finding the right words for the situation.

“Well you see you have two choices,” his father said without flinching. “One you could sign this paper giving up your right to the throne, stating you feel you cannot after having killed your brother. Or you can die here and now, alone, with no one but yourself to blame. Live or die the choice is yours.”

Michael stared at the paper in his father’s outstretched hand. There it was the easy way out. But it would mean giving up everything that was owed to him. His years of anticipation and sacrifice of friends and enjoyment, all wasted.

“Come on we haven’t got all day,” said Arthur, breaking the silence.

“Hush Arthur, this isn’t an easy decision for him.”

“You shouldn’t be giving him a decision at all.”

“We already discussed why I’m doing this.”

They continued to bicker, but Michael didn’t care. He had already made up his mind.

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What will Michael decide? I haven’t made a concrete decision, and readers can try to sway me towards what they think will give more interest.

[morningSIDEr]

Wonderful update, this line had me in stitches;

“You probably would have murdered all the scientists after 6 months.”

Not that Scots are unjustifiably violent or anything. *cough*

What will Michael decide? I haven’t made a concrete decision, and readers can try to sway me towards what they think will give more interest.

I'm rather hoping Michael took the time before his father's arrival at the fort, to construct some elaborate traps bringing about his father's death and thus securing his succession (e.g. highly concentrated laxatives in his chardonnay)! Either that or he justs refuses the deal, gives his father and Arthur a Glasgow kiss, and begins the rebellion!

[Threedog43]

Either that or he justs refuses the deal, gives his father and Arthur a Glasgow kiss, and begins the rebellion!

Now there's a thought, I have something planned, but this could be worked in. That would make Michael rather badass

[Threedog43]

Amazingly I'm finding the will to write within me, and I might have the next update out tonight!

[Threedog43]

Past and Present

Chapter 5:

Arthur and Malcolm stared at each other long and hard. It was obvious there was some sort of long-standing contention between them. Whatever it was Michael knew what he needed to do.

He jumped at the still distracted Arthur and tackled him to the ground. He landed a solid punch on the big man’s head, before getting thrown bodily off. Arthur started groping for something at his belt, and pulled out a pistol. He pointed it square at Michael’s chest.

“Bad move,” growled the bastard. He looked briefly at Michael’s face before pulling the trigger.

Time seemed to slow until the bullet hit Michael in the belly. He gasped in pain, never having imagined what being shot would feel like. He collapsed in a heap on the ground.

“You could have aided me willingly,” came the voice of his father. “You have elected the way of pain and death.”

He through the papers down at Michael. “Last chance.”

“F*** you.”

“Very well, come Arthur tell the servants to pack up and prepare to leave here in 10 minutes.”

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They left Michael to die and completely deserted the castle. The funny thing was Michael was most upset the castle had no honorary guard left, the first time in almost 1000 years.

He struggled to the door inch by inch crawling along. He tried the handle, but it was locked. “F***!” He screamed.

He looked around the room, for anything to help him. There! His cell phone! He crawled painfully over to the other side of the room. He grabbed the phone up and dialed the number of a good friend. The battery was very low, so he had to hope he answered.

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Excerpt from the Glasgow Times 2005:

Yesterday Michael Loarn, the eldest son of Malcolm Loarn, was on a cross country skiing trip with a close group of friends. After several hours they came under attack by European partisans of an, as of yet, undetermined nationality.

The rest of the group quickly fell, but the young prince picked up a gun from a fallen comrade and proceeded to fire back at the guerrillas. He would still have certainly fallen, had it not been for an adventurer by the name of Jack Strahm who was exploring the area.

Quickly understanding the situation, Strahm quickly acted by rushing directly at the attackers with his dogs. Taken by surprise, the partisans thought they were under an actual attack, and retreated.

Strahm and Loarn made there way back to the cabin Loarn was staying at and called in the Finish Guard. The guerrillas were hunted down, and they are due to face trial sometime soon.

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To Be Continued

[morningSIDEr]

Tense stuff. I can only hope this Jack Strahm, I assume he is the one being called, is able to arrive in time/give aid.

[Threedog43]

You are indeed correct in your assumption .

Update coming soon .