Interesting Chinese flag. I guess they didn't turn out to be communist? Also what of the Koreas? What caused it to be so historically. . . similar?
My own quotes:
"Everything is possible with time and imagination, time just hasn't caught up with our imagination."
"A stagnant brain is a very bad thing. Try keeping your head open to allow fresh air in but not open enough for your brain to fall out."
"Nothing is true, everything is permitted."
Wait that flag.... It's the 'Five Races Under One Banner Flag' right?
Han, Manchu, Mongols, Muslims, and Tibetans, Oh well. Tibetans live in China too, since there is a bunch of communities in the places the Tibetan government in Exile claims.
The Best Korea doesn't control all of Korea? That has to be rectified. And English Phillipines! Or Edwardines, rather.
So Japan is a modern, progressive nation. But it uses a flag with the Imperial Seal. I guess it can be answered by saying that Japan never went through the Rising Sun period so that's why they're lacking the Red Sun flag. Or by saying that this flag looks better. Either way, I'm interested in what is the government of Japan in 2011 as I'm sure I'll get to know how they got there later on in the AAR.
Japan uses the Emperor's flag as their own, but they are a constitutional monarchy... I picture them as the British only the monarch has slightly more power... but nothing really significant.
I love how the Central Asian countries pretty much copied each others flags off
So I assume the 3 southern ones are hindu, the others sunni?
Nice to see young Dovyat coming to know the world.
The maps have been changing a lot, especially in areas outside of Europe, as I give them thought and more background. Flags are part of those changes, so it is likely that the Turkish countries will get better flags in the future.
Hey guys, there is a week left in the AARland Choice Awards, round 2! If you haven't already you should go an vote for your favorite authors and AARs! This rounds has been rather slow, so go give it some life.
If you do choose to vote for Bastions, it is eligible under the EU3 category as a "Narrative" AAR.
So get out and vote!
Chapter Forty Three: Woes of an Empire
While the Lord Protector was abroad, the King of Prussia was facing his own issues. The city of Tessin, sandwiched in between Prussia and Brandenburg, was legally wrestled out of Prussia's hands. King Doyvát was able to ensure that Tessin would nominally remain a part of Prussia, in extension making the Duke of Brandenburg and direct vassal of the King as Count of Tessin; but it was all for naught. It was all in theory; the Duke of Brandenburg was already supposed to be a vassal of Prussia through their allegiance to the Patriarch of Memelgrád. However, that never stopped Brandenburg and Hungary from ignoring Prussia in the past and extra technicalities would mean little to nothing now. The control that Prussia exerted on her neighbors was waning. At this point, most came from religious authorities. Threats of excommunication or even crusade kept some of the smaller nations at least aligned with Prussia. But the Mordvin states were looking to name their own Patriarch and officially separate form of Prussian Orthodoxy. The Romans supported this move, but the Mordvins were wary of the Romans due in part to the weakness of the latter. It seemed a third and equal church was inevitable, only adding to the increasing number of Christian sects.
May 3rd, 1369
While he waited for Marshal Duke Edward Grey to return and properly invite him in, Prince and Lord Protector Doyvát wandered around the Duke's estate outside of London. Speaking with his servants, he found that the estate was recently purchased, and the old one lied within the heart of Wales. He found the gardens to be expertly tended, with roses and other flowers arranged around artificial waterfalls and rock formations. The whole thing gave an effect of being lost in some wilderness of fantasy. Strolling along the flagstone path, Doyvát rounded a corner and found a young woman hard at work in the dirt. Her head was covered with a hooded cloak, and her face hidden behind an opaque veil. When she heard Doyvát's footsteps she immediately stopped working and stood upright, lowering her head as to not look directly at the unknown visitor. It was now that Doyvát saw a small red-headed boy at her feet, maybe no older than eight or so. "Can I help you?" she asked. Her voice had a sort of lisp to it; Doyvát could not pinpoint the origin.
"No, I am just waiting for Duke Grey," Doyvát answered.
"You must be the Prince of Prussia, he told me to be expecting you. Here I have gone and lost track of time."
"It is no problem, ma'am. If the Duke would prefer you to work in the gardens, then you should do you job."
"It is not my job," she answered uneasily; "It is a task that I put myself to."
"I'm sorry, I don't think I understand."
"I am Lady Grey, daughter of Duke Grey, your highness." She curtsied for the Prince.
"My apologies, m'lady. I would not expect a Lady like you to be working the gardens like this." Doyvát expected a positive response, but instead Lady Grey just hid her face and turned around.
"I would like to be able to get back to work, if you don't mind."
"Of course," Doyvát replied. More confused than ever, he excused himself, "I think I hear your father's carriage, I shall return, though. Your garden is beautiful." Still no response; shaking his head slightly, Doyvát left to the main house where Edward was waiting for him. The Duke had been entertaining with another lord in the capital, and now returned slightly red in the face. However, he maintained his composure very well.
"Enjoying the gardens, Master David?"
"I am. Your daughter has quite a talent for it."
Edward's face drooped slightly, "You met my daughter, then?"
"Well, she introduced herself. I never..." Doyvát slowed his speech as he headed into unfamiliar territory.
"You never what?" Edward asked with a sudden seriousness.
"I... I never saw her face," Doyvát said. "She was working hood and a veil with what appeared to be her servant boy."
"Good, I wouldn't want the lesson to begin without the teacher," Edward responded quickly. "Let us go to that lesson." Doyvát lagged behind, confused, as Edward led him back into the gardens.
"What do you mean, lesson?" The Prince asked.
"You asked why I so zealously fight the Irish, I answered, but what your eyes see is far more powerful then the mere ramblings of a war vet." Eventually they came upon Lady Grey, still tending to the flowers. However, this time, the small red-haired child was facing them and tugged on her dress when he spotted Doyvát and Edward.
She stood up and turned around, her face still covered he head still facing downwards, "Hello father, I was not expecting you and Master David so soon."
"David, this is my daughter Lady Sarah... and what I am told is my grandson, though I don't believe that for a moment," Edward spoke harshly. "He is the son of my daughter... and..." he sobbed slightly, then took a breath to regain his composure, "and a bloody Irish raider."
"Father, may I please be allowed to leave?"
"No. Dear, please take off your veil and hood so that the Prussian can learn the meaning of hatred."
"Father, please... I don't..."
"Please, Sarah, for the good of the lad."
Sarah pulled the hood off, allowing clumps of once-beautiful golden hair to flow out and then took the veil down, revealing that most of the right side of her face was scarred and missing. Her nose, her right eye, all of the hair and most of the scalp on the right side were all gone and she showed significant burns all across her face and head. He lisp was from that fact that her lips and gums were damaged.
"Do you understand, David? Do you understand that she is only one of a few to survive? But for what good? To live life shut in and alone? Thousands of women and children end up dead or missing after Irish raids. They steal everything from us in order to retake Britain for some Celtic goal of domination. Their religion forbids them to show mercy to the heretics and non believers. Some of my peers call into question my faith when I say I'd trust my daughter to a Muslim beggar before I'd let her be in the same country as an Irish noble." Edward nodded to Sarah who covered herself up again, and turned around and went back to work. "And David, that was to the daughter of a noble."
The two men began walking again. "What do you think the outcome would be?" Doyvát asked.
"England will inevitably have to win, or the Isles will be lost forever. If we were to be conquered, Ireland would foolishly turn to Europe and try to invade. They will lose, of course." Edward scratched at his nose, allowing the scene to return to silence. "The quest for revenge," he said suddenly after a pause of a minute or two, "Is a path to damnation and villainy, David. There are only a few reasons why you should let this kind of hatred take over your whole being. Don't let it happen to you."
"Wouldn't that drive make one an effective ruler?"
"Yes, but it will make you an enemy of many. And when your enemies assemble to destroy you, you will lose. And then the only defining fact of your life will be how many men you killed so that they could cut you down. David, don't do as I am going to do."
"You might be right; maybe the wars are pointless and futile..." Edward said, sadness seeped into his words as well as his eyes, "By the end of this year, Mann will be ours or I will be dead. God save England." And with that Duke Edward Grey left Doyvát alone, there to contemplate what was going to happen. But the young prince knew it was time to leave England and return home.
When he had returned to Prussia news of battles between England and Ireland were circulating around the capital. According to most, the whole of Mann was ablaze. They asked him about the political climate of England and if he had met Duke Edward Grey before he had died somewhere in Ireland. Doyvát said he had, and that he would have died fighting the good fight. They seemed satisfied with that answer. A month or two after returning, Prince Doyvát was summoned to the docks to receive a guest. On board was Sarah Grey, who bore a letter from the Duke. He asked that Doyvát give her a place in Prussia, a sort of exile from England. He thanked the Prince for their time in England and said his good-byes to both a friend and his daughter. Doyvát could do little but oblige. It was the last request of a famed commander.
Damn, wasn't expecting that, to be sure.
I know I believe in nothing, but it is my nothing
Cogito Ergo Sum
Grats! Also, 92% total, w00t.
I think that's a record breaker.
And thank you to everyone who voted for Bastions in the ACA, we tied with a few others but we tied with some quality AARs, so all is well! So thank you guys very much. To show my appreciation, I am actually going to try to return to a normal update schedule until school starts... and come January... I am done with school! On to real life, and plenty of time to write about Prussians and their goings-on.
Chapter Forty Four: War and Peace
Christianity turned its attention away from the West for a while as wars sparked in the East. In the south the Romans continued their fight against Armenia, losing ground steadily to the continuing pressure from the Muslims. Famine hit the Empire hard, with all the men at the front lines; farming almost completely stopped forcing Rome to look to its few remaining allies for imports. When the Romans arrived in Prussia, King Doyvát had trouble justifying helping the Romans not only to the court but to himself. Years of animosity were not soon forgiven and more was always lurking around the corner. Farther north, the Mordvin Duchy of Narva launched an all-out campaign against the Turks to the south. Astrakhan was one of the most important territories to the Cumani Turks; it was definitely the wealthiest. Its loss would forever cripple the Turkish tribes to the east. It also introduced a large population of native Jews to the Christian world, fresh for persecution. However, the Mordvins saw use for the Khazars, using them as a front-line defense against the Turks. All the while, though, in Arabia; the Qurati continued their retreat. The long stretches of coast once controlled from New Edessa were just a handful of castles that controlled only their direct environs. The dream of an East under the rule of Christianity seemed to be slipping away. Cities once famed for their cathedrals where now decorated in minarets and mosques. It was still a Dark Age for Christianity, but the Golden Age of Islam continued.
May 8th, 1370
Lúđvik held Joná close, as he often had to since Lilja froze like many in the old settlement. He and Eirik took what few people they could find away from that frozen land and had begun heading south. This was during the winter of 1369, a year later they hadn't gotten very far but they had made friends. Now they lived amongst the natives who referred to themselves as the Innu, and lived at the base of a large gulf. Eirik had wanted to meet up with some of the other Norse colonists, but they could not find any of the others. The hope of a bountiful and endless Vinland seemed to dissolve all around them. Forsaken had become Eirik's new favorite word. They had been forsaken by everyone and everything, including God. And Lúđvik could not help but agree. But Eirik's morale was slowly improving as Lúđvik's had. At some point you just forget what you had and begin living once again in the present.
The journey of the Lúđvik, Eirik and their host of women and children.
When Joná had finally fallen asleep, Lúđvik left her alone. He exited the small wooden building and saw people hurriedly moving food supplies around. It was spring so stability was on the horizon. Soon the crops would grow and everyone would have food to eat. He once thought that the Norse could survive winter alone, now he knew how little understanding they had. These people were a heaven-sent gift, not a group of satanic barbarians. The only thing that worried him was how long it took them to realize that. What about the other colonies? Had they figured it out yet? Or had they left? Is that why they could not be found? A hand ran across his back, causing him to turn suddenly, but the body moved to the other side and a pair of lips grabbed his ear.
"You are worrying again." It was Hanna, the only thing that was keeping him sane at times. He turned to his love, a tall and thin Skrćling woman. Her dark hair and olive skin were still exotic to him, even after many nights of passion. She had told him her native name, and he tried to use it when he could. But his tongue was not that of a poet, it fumbled around with the Skrćling languages. Norse was a language of warriors, it sounded tough to him.
"I am not worrying," Lúđvik protested, "I am trying to enjoy the spring air. You think everything I do looks like worrying."
"It is the beard, it hides your face. You should cut it off like the men of the tribe." This time the drooping of his face was clearly evident. She frowned; Lúđvik was very hesitant to link himself with the tribe. He harbored hopes of being saved, and that is what offended her. Saved from what?
"I am sorry; I am not a member of this tribe. I..."
"You what? Must find those who abandoned you?"
"No, that is not how it works... I chose to come to Vinland. My tribe's men owe me no saving for my own choices."
"But we saved you," she said, tears welling up in her eyes. "We saved you; we took you and your kin in. I... I let myself be taken in by you... but am I nothing as well?" She turned and began walking away. Thinking quickly Lúđvik grabbed his knife and sheared off one of the braids in his beard. With a delicate toss, he threw it at her and kept cutting. She felt a light bounce off her back and turned to see the reddish braid on the ground. She ran over to Lúđvik and pried the knife from his hands before he cut his own nose off.
"Can I finish?" Lúđvik asked.
"Are you going to end up killing yourself?"
Lúđvik straightened himself and began carefully cutting off the long strands of hair and eventually began scrapping off the short stubble that was left. A dull pain began to settle in; his face felt strange... the cool spring breeze tickled him, the salty air stung at his face. He was a young lad the last time he didn't carry a beard around. "What?" The Norse man asked Hanna, who was trying to keep from laughing.
"The top half of your face is red, but the part under your beard is pale. You look like a partially ripe berry."
Lúđvik smiled, he should have guessed that he had been getting more sun then usual working amongst the crops and in the fishing boats. "I never wanted to return to the other Norsemen, but I don't feel I can ever be a true Innu. I will always be caught somewhere in the middle."
"Then let us all be caught in the middle."
Eirik watched as Lúđvik walked off, smooth-faced, with his Innu friend. Eirik was too stubborn, too eager to push his face between two pale bosoms to fall for the tricks of an olive-skinned woman so quickly. Though, his age did come with other urges. He wouldn't admit it, but Lúđvik was his hero. He had bravely led them to safety when Eirik was too afraid to leave his hut. He was smart enough to trust the natives with their safety when Eirik would have starved alone. So, the blond-haired man sat there, a partially gutted fish still in his hand. A quick glance, and he saw that the men were all smooth faced, including the elderly.
"Where is Eirik's damsel?" he muttered under his breath in Norse. "Where is Eirik's fuck?" With a pause and a warrior's scream he hacked the head off a fish with a single swing, causing the others to look at him worriedly. After a few seconds of huffing and puffing, Eirik watched as two boys ran up and took the beheaded fish away and then replaced it with a new fish; eagerly waiting for Eirik to repeat the feat. With a smile and another yell, Eirik dropped his sword and beheaded the fish, this time receiving a small round of applause. This continued over and over until finally Eirik shouted out "I am Eirik, Fish Killer!"
The Innu chanted with him, mimicking his Norse words: "Fish Killer! Fish Killer!" He smiled and stood triumphantly; both arms stretched into the air, his blood-soaked sword dripping over his hair.
And so, on that spring evening, legends of a fearsome, pale Innu who could cleave through entire whales was born: Eirik Fish Killer.
And you have to make a new culture mix of Innuit-Norse. You could justify it by saying that more Norse would migrate/flee from muslim persecution in Scandinavia.
The Innurse. Legendary men of fish gutting prowess. I frown upon their beard shaving ways though.
I approve of this update. This is basically what happened to many settlers. If they didn't antagonize the natives, which in Vinland meant normally the Beothuk, then they either died off or 'went native', much like the Roanoake colony. Though Ludvik and Eirik appear to have settled not in Vinland but in Markland, which is unfortunate. There's not much in Labrador. They were doomed from the start. The Vinland proper settlements, and the ones in the Maritime and down in Maine should do better. Perhaps even long enough to survive in the longterm!
I know I believe in nothing, but it is my nothing
Cogito Ergo Sum