Nemo Me Impune Lacessit - an Argyle AAR (1066-1920)
Hi guys,
I've pretty much fallen in love with CK, and I'm intending to play a game through from 1066-1920 using the various conversion engines (yeah, yeah... I know, we've heard it before). To be honest, I didn't start this with the intention of doing an AAR, but I've ended up doing so well (ok, I'm doing well for me ) that I thought I'd share it with y'all. This first update is fairly length, so bear with me, ok?
1066-1116 - The Reign of Duke MaeIsnechtan Loarn
In the grand, aristocratic scheme of things, being Duke of Argyle isn't really the glamour job that young noblemen dream of. For a start, there's the rain. And the snow. Lots of it. Far aside from the effects that the weather had on the local economy (which weren't good) the effects on the local PEOPLE were even worse. The Highlanders' reputation for being taciturn and perpetually miserable had a lot to do with the environment. After all, how easy do you imagine it would be to be happy and optimistic when the most you have to look forward to every day was labouring in a field that was so littered with rock and slate that it might as well be called a quarry, in the middle of a force ten gale, whilst hailstones the size of small boulders crashed off your back and ice cold rain tried its hardest to strip the skin from your face?
Argyle in August
Ruling over a bunch of miserable burghers would have been bearable enough for the young Duke (as he was a bit of a miserable burgher himself) were it not for one thing - like all young men he craved nothing less than the company of (preferably) scantily clad, lustful young wenches who desired to fulfill his every desire. Usually, Dukes had no shortage of said women throwing themselves at them (all eager to be the new duchess, no doubt) but in a Duchy where the weather varied between bloody freezing and sub-polar, the chances of finding anyone, let alone a lustful young wench, going around scantily clad was less than zero.
A fine example of the fair womenfolk of the Highlands
MaeIsnechtan Loarn was not a happy young Duke. He resigned himself to ecking out his years in this miserable backwater, pining for scantily clad bee-hatches and slowly going blind.
Fast forward through two years of melancholia (and nothing really exciting, to be honest) to 1068 when the Duke receives some sad news. His uncle, the Duke of Angus, had died. However, the Duke was to inherit his title. Reasoning that the climate in Angus couldn't be any worse than in Sutherland, MaeIsnechtan headed south to check it out. Imagine his utter delight to find a pretty, lustful (and sceptical) young wench by the name of Ada MacDonald. Ignoring the fact that she was brought up in a monastery (and reasoning that all those years of piety probably meant that she was a dirty little minx at heart) MaeIsnechtan married her on the spot and immediatly set about the business of producing an heir. This "business" seemed to occupy a lot of the Duke's time - in the space of just over four years he had four kids. Then, a chance encounter with another pretty wench, saw him steel his nerves and refuse to give into temptation, instead becoming as pure and chaste as you like. His clergy thought this was great, but rumour had it that Ada, by then the size of an elephant, could often be seen trying to tempt young knights back to her bedchamber for "martial instruction".
Anyway, following the birth of his first son, Neil (the couple had decided that they both had slightly wierd names and would go for something a bit more normal), the Duke got rather drunk, and woke up the next day on a ship heading south. Through his bleary eyes (and a raging hang over) he asked his Marshall (who was standing near him, full armed and armoured) where they were going, and why his entire host was also on the boat. The Marshall, somewhat concerned, asked the Duke if he rememberd the fact that he had declared war on the Ducky of Ulster the night before, citing some loose claim to the title. Sadly he couldn't remember any of this but, resolving to make the best of a bad situation, he decided to go ahead anyway. After all, the din of battle surely couldn't be any worse than the pounding in his head.
Fast forward a few years and a few more drunken (and some not so) declerations of of war, and MaeIsnechtan Loarn, Duke of Argyle, was now MaeIsnechtan Loarn, King of Ireland, Duke of Argyle and Duke of the Western Isles.
The duke gives the Irish whatfor
Naturally, he parcelled out some land to his loyal and dutiful followers (or rather, parcelled out the land so that they would remain loyal and dutiful) and settled down to what he hoped would be a few quiet years of relaxation. It was nice and warm here in Meath (well, compared to the Highlands anyway!) and he was going to make the most of it.
Meath in August
Sadly, this was not to be. A few years later, the overly hostile Duke of Gwynedd declared war and made clear his intention to invade Ireland. Sighing to himself, King MaeIsnechtan Loarn assembled his host (and to his delight, all of his vassals answered) and set off for Wales. A few short battles later (what was the Duke of Gwynedd thinking?) and the King now had the Duke's lands, complete with the counts of Perfeddwlad and Powys and the Duke of Dehubarth swearing allegience to him. MaeIsnechtan had never been that good with words, and the names of these new places were more than a mouthful for him, so he decided to make things easy for himself and call himself the King of Wales.
Welsh military discipline
Everything was looking peachy, until the King of Scotland, Malcom Dunkeld, decided to try and claim the King's Scottish holdings for himself. Not happy with this, MaeIsnechtan got the lads together again (with only the treacherous count of the Isle of Man refusing to mobilse - he'd watch that one) and set sail for Scotland to administer a few beatings. This went surprisingly smoothly, and King Malcom himself died on the field of battle. Eventually, with enough land under his sway, MaeIsnechtan declared himself king of the Scots. However, in a gesture of good will he allowed Malcolm Dunkeld (the late King's son) to remain as Duke of Fife. This seemed to pretty much cement the peace and everyone put their swords down and went back to being friends again.
A fearsome Scots warbeast
Towards the end of the 11th century the Pope decided that enough was enough, and that there should be a crusade. Although he dearly wanted to take part in the fun and games that such an event doubtlessly brought with it, King MaeIsnechtan (or "king cubed" as some witty scholars had dubbed him - MaeIsnechtan couldn't stand geek humour) didn't think that he was up to taking on the advanced Muslim kingdoms of the Iberian peninsula. This state of affairs was generally getting him down (after all, you want to be seen to be doing your bit against the heathens, don't you?) until some bright spark pointed out to him that there were a load of pagan tribes wandering around in Eastern Europe who lived in poorly defended towns, were armed with dried grass and sharp sticks, and were probably going to be less of a challenge than the Welsh were. Smiling broadly, the King sent out messages to his vassals to mobilise. Shortly, a massive Celtic warhost set sail for the east.
You know it!
The campaign was effortless. Tribe after tribe fell to the forces of MaeIsnechtan, and as he advanced through their lands he built mighty castles to defend his new territory (well, that and their high vantage points gave some brilliant views across the Baltic).
Tradegy struck in 1104 when Ada died (rumour has it that it was due to exhaustion - MaeIsnechtan was away crusading for an awful long time and a company of swarth young Knights Templar had taken to hanging around in Meath...). Distraught, MaeIsnechtan immediatly married Elfeda Siward, daughter of Waltheof Siaward the Duke of Northampton.
The King overcomes his grief and proposes to Elfeda
Everything went smoothly, and, in 1115, MaeIsnechtan proclaimed himself King of Lithuania (which, to be honest, surprised him as much as the Lithuanians, as he hadn't known that such a title existed - he was merely having fun plundering their evil pagan lands until someone suggested that he could probably declare himself King of all that he had conquered). Everyone was happy, everyone had parties and their was a lot of merry making.
The King celebrates
At the same time, some cheeky Teutonic Knights decided to set up shop in MaeIsnechtan's reign, but he soon ousted them and took their title which, for some reason, he gave to his wife (NOTE: I was planning on making her countess of somewhere, and had obviously clicked the wrong thing!)
And then MaeIsnechtan died.
The Reign of Neil Loarn - King of Ireland, Wales, Scotland and Lithuania. Duke and Count of many, many places. (1116-1117)
Poor old Neil was a bit rubbish. Almost as soon as he picked up the crown he felt death's chilly hand on his shoulder and he shrugged off his mortal coil. Still, the Pope, seeing the good his family had done in bringing Christianity to the heathen (admitedly via the medium of wanton slaughter) decided to canonise him.
Bringing Christianity to the heathen
Bless.
The Regin of Forueleth Loarn - King of Ireland, Wales, Scotland and Lithuania. Duke and Count of many, many places. (1117-present)
And now history catches up with us. Or rather, this guy. I've posted a wee screen shot to show you all what the world looks like. As soon as I've got any more interesting developments, I'll let you know!
Hi guys,
I've pretty much fallen in love with CK, and I'm intending to play a game through from 1066-1920 using the various conversion engines (yeah, yeah... I know, we've heard it before). To be honest, I didn't start this with the intention of doing an AAR, but I've ended up doing so well (ok, I'm doing well for me ) that I thought I'd share it with y'all. This first update is fairly length, so bear with me, ok?
1066-1116 - The Reign of Duke MaeIsnechtan Loarn
In the grand, aristocratic scheme of things, being Duke of Argyle isn't really the glamour job that young noblemen dream of. For a start, there's the rain. And the snow. Lots of it. Far aside from the effects that the weather had on the local economy (which weren't good) the effects on the local PEOPLE were even worse. The Highlanders' reputation for being taciturn and perpetually miserable had a lot to do with the environment. After all, how easy do you imagine it would be to be happy and optimistic when the most you have to look forward to every day was labouring in a field that was so littered with rock and slate that it might as well be called a quarry, in the middle of a force ten gale, whilst hailstones the size of small boulders crashed off your back and ice cold rain tried its hardest to strip the skin from your face?
Argyle in August
Ruling over a bunch of miserable burghers would have been bearable enough for the young Duke (as he was a bit of a miserable burgher himself) were it not for one thing - like all young men he craved nothing less than the company of (preferably) scantily clad, lustful young wenches who desired to fulfill his every desire. Usually, Dukes had no shortage of said women throwing themselves at them (all eager to be the new duchess, no doubt) but in a Duchy where the weather varied between bloody freezing and sub-polar, the chances of finding anyone, let alone a lustful young wench, going around scantily clad was less than zero.
A fine example of the fair womenfolk of the Highlands
MaeIsnechtan Loarn was not a happy young Duke. He resigned himself to ecking out his years in this miserable backwater, pining for scantily clad bee-hatches and slowly going blind.
Fast forward through two years of melancholia (and nothing really exciting, to be honest) to 1068 when the Duke receives some sad news. His uncle, the Duke of Angus, had died. However, the Duke was to inherit his title. Reasoning that the climate in Angus couldn't be any worse than in Sutherland, MaeIsnechtan headed south to check it out. Imagine his utter delight to find a pretty, lustful (and sceptical) young wench by the name of Ada MacDonald. Ignoring the fact that she was brought up in a monastery (and reasoning that all those years of piety probably meant that she was a dirty little minx at heart) MaeIsnechtan married her on the spot and immediatly set about the business of producing an heir. This "business" seemed to occupy a lot of the Duke's time - in the space of just over four years he had four kids. Then, a chance encounter with another pretty wench, saw him steel his nerves and refuse to give into temptation, instead becoming as pure and chaste as you like. His clergy thought this was great, but rumour had it that Ada, by then the size of an elephant, could often be seen trying to tempt young knights back to her bedchamber for "martial instruction".
Anyway, following the birth of his first son, Neil (the couple had decided that they both had slightly wierd names and would go for something a bit more normal), the Duke got rather drunk, and woke up the next day on a ship heading south. Through his bleary eyes (and a raging hang over) he asked his Marshall (who was standing near him, full armed and armoured) where they were going, and why his entire host was also on the boat. The Marshall, somewhat concerned, asked the Duke if he rememberd the fact that he had declared war on the Ducky of Ulster the night before, citing some loose claim to the title. Sadly he couldn't remember any of this but, resolving to make the best of a bad situation, he decided to go ahead anyway. After all, the din of battle surely couldn't be any worse than the pounding in his head.
Fast forward a few years and a few more drunken (and some not so) declerations of of war, and MaeIsnechtan Loarn, Duke of Argyle, was now MaeIsnechtan Loarn, King of Ireland, Duke of Argyle and Duke of the Western Isles.
The duke gives the Irish whatfor
Naturally, he parcelled out some land to his loyal and dutiful followers (or rather, parcelled out the land so that they would remain loyal and dutiful) and settled down to what he hoped would be a few quiet years of relaxation. It was nice and warm here in Meath (well, compared to the Highlands anyway!) and he was going to make the most of it.
Meath in August
Sadly, this was not to be. A few years later, the overly hostile Duke of Gwynedd declared war and made clear his intention to invade Ireland. Sighing to himself, King MaeIsnechtan Loarn assembled his host (and to his delight, all of his vassals answered) and set off for Wales. A few short battles later (what was the Duke of Gwynedd thinking?) and the King now had the Duke's lands, complete with the counts of Perfeddwlad and Powys and the Duke of Dehubarth swearing allegience to him. MaeIsnechtan had never been that good with words, and the names of these new places were more than a mouthful for him, so he decided to make things easy for himself and call himself the King of Wales.
Welsh military discipline
Everything was looking peachy, until the King of Scotland, Malcom Dunkeld, decided to try and claim the King's Scottish holdings for himself. Not happy with this, MaeIsnechtan got the lads together again (with only the treacherous count of the Isle of Man refusing to mobilse - he'd watch that one) and set sail for Scotland to administer a few beatings. This went surprisingly smoothly, and King Malcom himself died on the field of battle. Eventually, with enough land under his sway, MaeIsnechtan declared himself king of the Scots. However, in a gesture of good will he allowed Malcolm Dunkeld (the late King's son) to remain as Duke of Fife. This seemed to pretty much cement the peace and everyone put their swords down and went back to being friends again.
A fearsome Scots warbeast
Towards the end of the 11th century the Pope decided that enough was enough, and that there should be a crusade. Although he dearly wanted to take part in the fun and games that such an event doubtlessly brought with it, King MaeIsnechtan (or "king cubed" as some witty scholars had dubbed him - MaeIsnechtan couldn't stand geek humour) didn't think that he was up to taking on the advanced Muslim kingdoms of the Iberian peninsula. This state of affairs was generally getting him down (after all, you want to be seen to be doing your bit against the heathens, don't you?) until some bright spark pointed out to him that there were a load of pagan tribes wandering around in Eastern Europe who lived in poorly defended towns, were armed with dried grass and sharp sticks, and were probably going to be less of a challenge than the Welsh were. Smiling broadly, the King sent out messages to his vassals to mobilise. Shortly, a massive Celtic warhost set sail for the east.
You know it!
The campaign was effortless. Tribe after tribe fell to the forces of MaeIsnechtan, and as he advanced through their lands he built mighty castles to defend his new territory (well, that and their high vantage points gave some brilliant views across the Baltic).
Tradegy struck in 1104 when Ada died (rumour has it that it was due to exhaustion - MaeIsnechtan was away crusading for an awful long time and a company of swarth young Knights Templar had taken to hanging around in Meath...). Distraught, MaeIsnechtan immediatly married Elfeda Siward, daughter of Waltheof Siaward the Duke of Northampton.
The King overcomes his grief and proposes to Elfeda
Everything went smoothly, and, in 1115, MaeIsnechtan proclaimed himself King of Lithuania (which, to be honest, surprised him as much as the Lithuanians, as he hadn't known that such a title existed - he was merely having fun plundering their evil pagan lands until someone suggested that he could probably declare himself King of all that he had conquered). Everyone was happy, everyone had parties and their was a lot of merry making.
The King celebrates
At the same time, some cheeky Teutonic Knights decided to set up shop in MaeIsnechtan's reign, but he soon ousted them and took their title which, for some reason, he gave to his wife (NOTE: I was planning on making her countess of somewhere, and had obviously clicked the wrong thing!)
And then MaeIsnechtan died.
The Reign of Neil Loarn - King of Ireland, Wales, Scotland and Lithuania. Duke and Count of many, many places. (1116-1117)
Poor old Neil was a bit rubbish. Almost as soon as he picked up the crown he felt death's chilly hand on his shoulder and he shrugged off his mortal coil. Still, the Pope, seeing the good his family had done in bringing Christianity to the heathen (admitedly via the medium of wanton slaughter) decided to canonise him.
Bringing Christianity to the heathen
Bless.
The Regin of Forueleth Loarn - King of Ireland, Wales, Scotland and Lithuania. Duke and Count of many, many places. (1117-present)
And now history catches up with us. Or rather, this guy. I've posted a wee screen shot to show you all what the world looks like. As soon as I've got any more interesting developments, I'll let you know!
Last edited: