A vicious Round of tRuths
OK, I'll admit. Defenders is dead and Blademasters stillborn. But Encyclopedia of the East still lives. I just am sick of my serious AARs, so here is a shot at a humorus one, like my old Papal States AAR, which, unfortunately, is dead and buried. People seemed to like the humor, and so I'll choose my good ole' favorite, Lithuania.
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Vytautus Didysis woke under the satins and silks of his bed to a cold day. Then again, it was
January, so that was not unusual. What had been was the strange, disembodied deep voice
coming from the corner of the room.
“Vytautus Didysis. Vytautus Didysis, you have been selected.”
“My lottery ticket has won?”
“No you fool! Vytautus Didysis, you have been selected for a most difficult task.”
“If this is one of those people for Jump Rope For Heart, missionaries, or some girl scouts, go
away.”
“Argh! You really know how to make a spirit hate you, Vytautus Didysis....”
“Really? I never knew. Speaking of which, can a man get sleep in this place?”
“No. Vytautus Didysis, this is not a charity bothering you.”
“Good.”
“This is a much more important mission.”
“Enacting a ban on cruelty to animals?”
“No.”
“Giving more support to the army?”
“No.”
“Giving greater privileges to merchants?”
“No.”
“Artisans?”
“No.”
“Nobles?”
“No.”
“Sewage cleaners?”
“No. Since you are obviously incapable of guessing, I shall tell you. Your religion calls upon
you to...”
“Launch a crusade?”
“No.”
“Get baptized?”
“You weren’t?”
“I think I was... But it is hard to tell. I have a bad memory.”
“You were, for your information.”
“Uh, launch some holy mission of God?”
“Yes.”
“Too bad. Come back later. I have to sleep, ‘ya know.”
“Shut up and be quiet. No, your mission cannot wait. I proclaim that you or your descendants
should be the king of not only Lithuania, but also Russia, which otherwise would conquer you.
You are to spread Christianity from the Caspian to the White seas, from the Baltic to the Pacific.”
“Where is the Pacific?”
“D’oh! Somewhere to the East.”
“Can that wait?”
“Of course. After you pledge.”
“Pledge?”
“Yes. Not only is it extraordinarily difficult for the author of this piece to spell, it also will
bind you to the bone, and all your descendants, to your holy mission.”
“Seems a little tough to me.”
“Not at all. Just say that you pledge, lest God unleash his wrath upon you.”
“Oh. I pledge, lest God unleash his wrath upon me.”
“Good. Bye.”
And so he left, and the king went to sleep. But naturally, he was bound to the bone... So he could
not forget his pledge. That is to say, he could, but God would smote him in lightning if he did
not... Ah, well, you get the point.
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