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Zealous Firebrand
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Sep 7, 2007
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When Charlemagne died in 814 A.D. his son, Louis, took the throne. His reign oversaw three civil wars, and in the end the Carolingian empire was split into West Francia, Middle Francia and East Francia at the treaty of Verdun in 843 by his surviving sons. Lothair, the oldest, received the central portion of the empire that consisted of the low countries, Lorraine, Alsace, Burgundy, Provence and Italy as well as the title Hole Roman Emperor; Louis received the lands east of Lothair’s, the bulk of the Holy Roman Empire and Charles received the Western part, what later became France.
In 844 Lothair retired Italy to his eldest son Louis II, making him co-emperor.In 855 Lothair died, and so his kingdom was split. Louis II kept the part he already had, the old kingdom of Burgundy was given to his son Charles, and the remaining lands were given to his youngest son, Lothair II, and in his wake the territory was called Lotharii Regnum; Lotharingia.

Lothair II’s period as regent was marked by wars with brothers, cousins and uncles, and when he died in 869 without legitimate heirs Lotharingia was divided between his uncles Charles and Louis. The kingdom lasted for only fourteen years.

But from beyond the grave Lothair II’s ghost is still walking his old lands, in the form of an idea – an ideal! – born in the mind of a duke since long written off as incompetent and repulsive due to his disfigured body. With Godfried d’Ardennes, the start of the Lotharingian Quest, the quest for Lothair’s old kingdom’s freedom, would begin.

---​

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Favourite Crusader Kings Narrative, 2008 Q2


I started this mainly as a side-project to my other AAR, A Golden Lion Rampant Queue-Fourché, to get some more practice in strict narrative-writing; I wanted to keep on switching styles with the other one. Now, just a few weeks after I got going with Lotharingia, the other one died due to that I dropped interest. So from now on, until next project, this is what I am focusing on. I know I've been absent for a while, and I sincerely apologise and hope that I have not scared away all readers yet. If so, I'll try to win you back.

The game will start out with Godfried, Duke of Lower Lorraine -- peculiarly situated north of Upper Lorraine -- and will then, hopefully, continue with his bloodline into the creation of the Kingdom of Lotharingia.

Comments and criticism are of course always wanted, and the more of them, the faster the updates will come. Before starting, I also want to pay tribute to crusaderknight, whose AAR The Morea, A Palaeologid AAR has inspired me to start this project, and to Alfred Packer for his ever so eminent The Adventures of the Crovan Clan.

Also, as of the 24th of March 2008 A.D. I can mention that a good friend of mine, name of Meng will help me with this little project by making some illustrations! These will mainly be of characters, although occasionally there might pop up an easter egg. This far, they have been published in Chapter I.

And so now, without further ado, the story starts. I sincerely hope you will enjoy it.


Godfried d'Ardennes
1045 -
Duke of Lower Lorraine 1066 - 1092
Chapter I - Chapter II - Chapter III - Chapter IV - Chapter V - Chapter VI - Chapter VII - Chapter VIII Chapter IX - Chapter X - Chapter XI - Chapter XII - Chapter XIII - Chapter XIV - Chapter XV
Chapter XVI - Chapter XVII - Chapter XVIII - Chapter XIX - Chapter XX - Chapter XXI

Dietrich de Lorraine
1055 -
Duke of Upper Lorraine 1091 -
Duke of Lower Lorraine 1092 -
Chapter XXII - Chapter XXIII - Chapter XXIV - Chapter XXV
 
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Prologue

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There was a time in his life when he would have overlooked the opportunity, young Godfried d’Ardennes – oldest and only son of the Duke of Lower Lorraine with the same name.

Godfried the Younger had been born as the heir of a popular and forceful warrior of a ruler, and already from birth he was said to greatly resemble his father. The succession was finally secured, and Duke Godfried could relax.

But at the age of five it started to appear as if the Lord intended another way for young Godfried the Younger; his back started to grow in a rather peculiar way, his right shoulder pointing a little upwards and his neck bending forward. At the age of eight, he had a noticeable hump located between and behind his right shoulder and neck, which led to him only being able to walk stumblingly, not being able to run or even walk fast without entering a weird, jumping way of walking. The future grace of Lower Lorraine was a hunchback, and for this he would suffer spite and taunts all his life.

---​

It was early January in the year of the Lord 1067 when Godfried the Elder, at the age of sixty, fell headfirst into the snow by the royal castle in Andernach. His lifelong follower and Marshall, Robert von Blankenheim, had walked with him and was quickly down on the ground, helping his friend. He turned his old friend around and saw him grabbing the left part of his chest whilst panting heavily.
“Robert… I need… assistance!” the duke wheezed, eyes squeezed together in tension.
“Sire, I can’t leave you here!”
“Robert! ... help! Now!”
“I’ve still got force enough to help an old friend. Don’t worry sire.”
He bent down and carefully lifted the duke in his arms. The old man was not forcefully built and nor was he heavy – he was slim, on the verge of thin, and Robert could easily run when carrying him in his arms. He carried him to the infirmary where the monks resided.

When the monks had tended the duke, message was brought to Marshall Robert. In it, the monks simply stated that Duke Godfried was getting old and fragile, and that his heart was weaker than it once was. In his youth Godfried might have been a prominent and fierce warrior, but his remaining days instead ought to be spent in calm environments and taking life more calmly. Robert smiled: he had a problem trying to imagine his old friend enjoying his days in serenity and tranquillity. Nevertheless, the words were to be taken seriously. The duke’s critical condition would last, probably until the end, and thus something needed to be done. Robert took direction towards the infirmary to have a talk with his old friend about the matter; he knew how hopeless it would be to even try imposing a decision in the Council without the duke present.

---​

“Old friend, I cannot remember seeing you like this after the age of twelve!” Robert greeted when he entered the room in which the duke was recovering. He was sitting up in the bed with a bolster over him and a chalice with a steamy potion in his hand.
“The dysentery of 1018! I remember that, and thank God those days are not to return within my timeframe.” Duke Godfried said loudly. The people frequenting the infirmary looked worriedly at each other; having the old grumpy bastard saying a kind word to anyone was usually followed by him cuffing a servant or tripping someone so that they would fall nose-first on the cold stone-floor of the castle. Giving a compliment or a happy remark was the duke’s way of joking with people.
“Indeed it will not, sire. How are you feeling?” Robert continued, smiling, and ignored the whispers of people that stated what they all noticed: this man could apparently deal with the duke in a friendly way.
“Rather horrible actually!” the duke half-roared. By older years, he was growing slightly deaf. “The monks have given me this green and smelly thing to apparently ‘mild my pains’. Horseshit, that is what I call it! Both the talk and the smell of this thing reminds me of horseshit.”

Robert laughed. The duke had always had interesting ways of expressing himself.
“Nevertheless, for your health, you ought to drink it. And we also have more serious matters to tend to, things that preferably should be spoken about between four eyes and two foreheads.”

The duke bellowed for everyone in the room to leave. After that, he took a gulp of the potion and followed it up with a grimace.
“And curse me if it doesn’t taste like horseshit as well.”
“Godfried,” Robert began, “I received word from the monks. Your health – no, listen to me on this! – is of course of theirs as well as our greatest concern, and they do not see fit that you continue with the post you now hold. It is simply too much work and too much stress and pressure for a man with your condition –“

He had merely finished before the duke was roaring at him, accusing him of being a miserable coward, a sissy, a man-lover and other standardized terms for people that did not agree with the duke on certain issues. The tantrum lasted for almost a minute, and used as he was to it Robert waited until the duke was left gasping for breath before he continued.
“Old friend, it cannot continue like this. A sudden death of a ruler happens all too often and is never of any good – the other way around; it just has everything end up in chaos and disruption. So not only for your own sake, but for the realm’s sake, you should –“
“You miserable little –” the duke started, but Robert interrupted him.
“– you should consider retiring from your post.”
Somehow it seemed as if the duke had not foreseen this suggestion. He sat in silence, drank a little more of the potion and then spoke once again.
“To whom? You’re not being an usurper now, are you, Robert?” he asked, slightly suspiciously.
“To the only possible, Godfried; your son, of course.”
“Hah! That weak git? How could he rule – he is barely even of age!”
“Believe me; he is more capable than you might believe. He might not be very imposing, but he’s got intellect. And even with his kind nature I believe that he will be able to fight off the wolves that might be threatening to overthrow the d’Ardennes.” Robert said, awaiting his duke’s next tantrum. To his surprise, and it was not often that he was surprised in the company of the duke, Godfried appeared lost in thought, looking out of the window at the flakes that now started falling again.
“What you say makes sense, old friend.” Duke Godfried said. “But nevertheless I am still alive and except for this one incident I am completely fine. And as long as I so remain, my crown will not be passed on to anyone.”
“But sire, please!” Robert almost cried out in despair. “At least promise that, if something severe – more severe than this, if you insist – happens, you will live the rest of your years far from the court, making amends for a long life!”

Godfried glared at his Marshall, bodyguard, and childhood friend.
“If this was anyone else than you, I would have had you thrown into the dungeons. But since I know you and what sort of man you are, I will listen to your advice. If He decides to send another lightning-bolt to further fry my health, then I will resign.”

Later that night the duke’s heart stopped once again. It was almost too late for the monks to save him, and as soon as he regained control and consciousness the duke started to think that maybe, just maybe his Marshall had had some sense in his argument.

---​

Godfried the Younger was sitting in his study on the second floor in the main house, with a window facing the slanting plain of forest, reading his books and in his mind wandering the same tracks as usual, when someone knocked on the door. He turned around clumsily, shouting to whoever it was that the door was open. It turned out to be old Robert von Blankenheim, his father’s most – and, perhaps, only – trusted advisor.
“So we are reading as usual, young Godfried?” he asked kindly. Godfried had always liked Robert much more than his father. Where his father had the manners of a bull, Robert was a lion – valiant, loyal and good.
“Indeed I am, sire.” Godfried had acquired a habit of calling everyone older than him ‘sire’ as a result of not regarding himself all too highly. After all, he was nothing but a cursed hunchback and had so been told more times than he could remember. “Once again about Charlemagne; these old stories of the adventures of the past give me high hopes for the future.”

Robert smiled peculiarly, making Godfried wonder what was going on. He might not look like much, but he had his wits more than many.
“The future has just arrived, young Godfried. You are about to be the next Duke of Lower Lorraine.”
“I have been first in the succession for years” Godfried said, both looking, acting and feeling confused. “Surely there is nothing new in this?”
“Not at all, but you are about to be crowned tomorrow evening.”

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Chapter I

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The message about his forthcoming crowning had come as a shock to Godfried and even after one and a half month as Duke of Lower Lorraine he had not gotten used to even the thought.

His father had let go of the crown with turmoil – it was obvious that it was not the old man’s will to retire as a mere count after almost a whole life as Duke. It was just as obvious that none of the people that worked for the shipping away of Godfried the Elder actually wanted his son on the ducal throne – he just happened to be the obvious successor.

Of course Godfried knew all of this. He knew that he was not wanted nor admired, and there was a time in his life when he might have fallen into despair because of this. By now he was since long desensitized and could not care much less – he had his position and would at least make a try to manage being a good duke. If not, no one would mourn his abdication.

Even though his physical appearance was the same, his inheritance pre mortem had made him a lot more attractive. Due to this Godfried did not hold any higher hopes of finding a beautiful bride. He would be happy with being able to find a woman at all.

He sent heralds to a few of the nearby French counties. The reason for this was that he imagined that most young women in the close-by counties of the Empire would have heard about the hunchback of Lorraine and would thus beg their fathers not to marry them away with it. For that was how Godfried had felt that the surrounding world perceived him: as ‘it’. The creature. The man that had been cursed by God and thus carried a lump as a sign of this. As with everything else, this hurt him once, but not anymore.

Not many of the German maids had heard of Godfried though, and nor had they in France. And hunchback or not his position was considered good enough to have the bishop of Bourges accepting the marriage between Godfried and a young woman by the name of Camila de Bourges. When he, according to old tradition, saw her the first time at their wedding Godfried was enchanted. Camila was less than mildly interested, just giving him a frosty gaze and then turning to the bishop. And as with most things, Godfried would once have been hurt. Now he instead embraced the fact that he was about to marry a beautiful French maid.

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His life certainly looked brighter than it had done in a very long time.

---

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Camila sat looking out of her window as she usually did. She had just finished another diary-entry – paradoxally, they became more and more the less that happened in her life as duchess of Lower Lorraine. She did not know the language, she did not know the lands and God knows she did not know her husband with whom she had barely interacted more than by sitting next to him by supper.
She decided that yet another whole day without leaving her room more for when duty demanded it would drive her insane, and thus she rose and stormed out of the room. She walked quickly down the corridors of the fort – which these barbarians called “castle” she thought with despise. In Bourges we had a cathedral made of finest limestone and here I have mould in the corners of my room!

She came out into the courtyard and tried to look as if she knew where she was heading. She walked out of the gate that continuously stood open and walk down towards the forest.

---​

Godfried was spending his time in the library when he was alerted by a guard that his wife had been seen leaving her quarters and walking out of the gate. At first he was terrified – surely she could not just have run off like that? Then the feeling changed into determination, and Godfried hurried as fast as he could – which naturally was not all too fast, and more of a limping jumping rather than a run. He eventually came down to the stables, climbed up on a horse via a small platform, and then rode out through the gates.

This did not create much commotion. Not many people bothered about the young duke – he was generally seen as rather insignificant this far. During almost half a year of reigning he had not done more than reading more books in the library and marry a French maid that did not speak the language and spent her day in her room.

When Godfried closed in on the edge of the forest after having circled around the castle a few times he saw something white gleaming among a big pile of stones close to a small creek running along the edge of the forest. He rode down there and found Camila sitting on a stone with a little less moss than the other ones, throwing pebbles in the creek. She looked up at him shortly, met his gaze, and then lowered her head again, muttering something along the lines of “What is it actually worth…”
“Pardon me if I ask, but what are you questioning the value of?” Godfried asked her.

If it was not for the fact that she already was silent, she would have gone mute at hearing her husband speak French. That was one thing she surely did not see coming.
“Wh– what? Parlais français?” she said, the words stumbling over one another.
“Mais oui, madame.” Godfried said, and smiled. “One has to learn something, reading all those books.”

Without further warning, Camila started laughing. Godfried could not decide whether or not it was a good thing, but he definitely liked her laugh. It was like a loud giggling, almost with small hiccups from time to time. He had not demonstrated his knowledge in French for he wanted to save it as a surprise – and surprised she had certainly gotten. But whether she was laughing at the situation or at him, he could not decide. When she stopped, she was sitting down on the ground, beaming a smile up at him.
“You are truly a man of surprises, Godfried de Lorraine” she said.
“I have not seen you smile at all during your stay here, and that makes this moment very pleasurable.” Godfried said, only to afterwards figure that his eyes were redder than the diagonal on the coat-of-arms of his Duchy. He immediately went off track in his compliment and muttered something about returning to the castle before night-time.

Camila looked at him with a look he could not decipher, and then she followed.

In order to avoid the embarrassment of mounting, Godfried lead his horse all the way back to the castle, Camila walking next to him. They walked in silence, but were comfortable with it.

---

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---​

Thus endeth Chapter I.

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Chapter II

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It was two days after their meeting out on the field, and Godfried was satisfied at the thought of how good the contact between him and his wife apparently was. Even though he still felt as if there was an invisible barrier in between them he could feel something that he could not remember having felt before – he had been in love, of course. But never had it been answered, and maybe, just maybe that was the difference this time. He let his mind drift away as he discreetly peeked down the table towards his wife whom also was titled the new chancellor of the Duchy of Lower Lorraine.

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As Godfried saw it he had appointed here solely on her abilities and now anything else. Evil tongues rumoured it that she had gotten the post only as the duke’s wife, something that frustrated Godfried to no end. What mostly irritated him with the whispering was that he was not completely sure of whether he actually had been objective, but there was nothing in the world that could have him depose her.

He was woken back from his thoughts by the frail voice of the steward, an old man by the name of Unruoch. Unruoch was significantly older than even Godfried’s own father, and there were few people that expected him to live for more winters. He himself was of the conviction that he would however, and thus he had no plans on resigning.

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“By my word, what you suggest is not realistic!” he said, or rather whined; his voice had seen the days of forceful speech come and leave. “If there is one thing we cannot afford, it is to keep on giving the church all these privileges!”
“Old man, are you defying God?” The voice came from across the table and belonged to a man older than Godfried, but one that had preserved his appearance as a young and forceful soldier. Eckhard von Blankenheim was the son of Robert, Godfried the Elder’s friend and marshal, and Eckhard was now the marshal of Lower Lorraine. He was widely considered one of the most capable militaries in the western Holy Roman Empire, and was a devout believer and follower of the church. And thus he was now in an argument with the small man in front of him on whether to decrease the church’s power or not.

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“I am not defying God,” piped the steward. “I am merely pointing out that they will ruin our treasury and undermine our power if they are allowed to grow and maintain power as they do now!”
Godfried raised his hand for silence. The whole argument felt rather pointless to him, as they all knew that the church’s presence in Lower Lorraine had been constant since time immemorial and that it would not be changed in the first council of the new duke. In fact, he doubted that he himself would ever have the power or will to do it.

All except for the last he now said to the little assembly, facing rather understanding nods. He saw in the eyes of three of them – the fourth being his wife Camila – the same gaze as the one that he felt as if he had grown up under; a slightly impatient, only half-concealed glare, with the bearer seemingly always being close to a sigh if he, Godfried, talked for too long. It angered him slightly, but he was not strong enough to start bellowing at his advisors to listen to him and take him seriously. Thus as he finished, an awkward silence followed.
“What more new do you have?” Godfried said in order to break the silence. “There has to be some more news than an old bickering about how much power the clergy shall have. Not that that ought to be counted as a novelty, of course.”

The steward and the marshal became slightly red-faced and if it was by anger or embarrassment dodged Godfried’s mind. Instead, the spymaster raised his voice.

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Theodor von Altenbaumberg was not spymaster due to him being certainly capable of it – he was merely the best choice they had. Also he was getting older and older, being born already in 1020, but he did not seem to worry – his joviality kept him eternally calm and unworried of the possibility of quickly approaching death.
“Milord, the realm is calm, as are our surroundings. There are few things to report in a state of peace as that we are in now.”
“Why,” Godfried hesitated. Maybe he had made a fool of himself? That was something that had haunted him since childhood, a result of all taunts and glares thrown at him – if he appeared a dimwit, wouldn’t his antagonists then be correct? “Well then, give me an update on exactly how things are then!” He tried to sound sure of himself, but was not sure that he succeeded very well.

Theodor smiled discreetly. “Very well then milord.” He stood up and went over to a cupboard next to the door and took out a map.

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Godfried looked at the map for a few seconds. “Pardon me if I ask,” he said, “but how come that we have the Duchy of Deheu-something in Wales shown ont the map, but not the Duchy of Verona that actually is under the same rule as us?”
Memo: stop saying ‘pardon’ and ‘please’ to subordinates.
Theodor studied the map with only mild interest. “That is a rather good question, milord” he said in the tone one commonly use to talk to a child below the age of ten. “But the simple explanation is that Verona is a little outside of our sphere of interest.”
“And Dungbath isn’t?” Eckhard jested.
“Deheubarth, if you please.” the spymaster answered coldly.

A young servant maid with a shy gaze and long, brown hair met Godfried's eyes and nudged for receiving the word. He nodded kindly to her; the girl was there as Camila's interpreter, since she happened to have a father from Nevers and a mother from Andernach.
“My lords, chancellor Camila asks whether there are any matters of more relevance than the being or not being of a country on a map.” she said, barely audible. Eckhard told her to speak louder, and so she repeated the same again.
“Yes, chancellor Camila has got a point” said Godfried, eager to show that he trusted her competence. “So, are there any matters you wish to bring up?”
“Nay,” answered each of the three advisors; Theodor sullenly; Eckhard with a smile on his lips; and Unruoch with the usual piping voice.
“Very well, then I will call the council a day.” Godfried said and rose, and then walked out of the room.

---​

After the council, Godfried had a hard time making up his mind about how he actually felt. He took a walk on the rampart by the main gate in order to get some time alone with his thoughts, and was not entirely happy with the conclusions he reached.
His war council was a pack of old, bickering nobles that saw more to their own needs than the people, and they did not regard his word more than that of a cow.
He was still dead afraid of having a longer conversation with his wife or, God’s grief, share bed with her. Not that she was unattractive, the other way around; he was afraid of feeling incapable as with so many other matters.
He had no idea what would make the future world remember him.
Sighing, he turned away from the sunset colouring the sky pink and walked towards his quarters in a limping, slightly bent way.

---

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---​

Thus endeth the second chapter.


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Farquharson said:
An interesting AAR! The relationship between hunchback Godfried and his wife is particularly fascinating, especially with her letters interspersed. I like the graphics too!
Many thanks, and nice to have you on board as a reader!
 
GrandPanjandrum said:
An excellent AAR! I am looking forward for more instalments.
Thank you! I should have one on Sunday, hopefully.
jordarkelf said:
Nice AAR start, I'll follow it.

Out of interest, what game version and mods are you palying with?
Nice to have you on board.

Well, version 1.05 and then a little of everything actually... heaps of downloaded events, créme de la créme of the CoA's I've been able to find on the forum, and then a few other things. To be completely honest, I've been editing the files so much since installing that I barely remember what is actual game anymore.

And I guess it is here that I thank anyone working with graphics and uploading it on the forum -- since I sadly aren't completely aware of whose works I've downloaded and not-- so, thank you! (Need to add though: The kingdom-frame for king's CoA is actually my own creation :D)
OxfordNik said:
As with the Golden Lion, great story-telling, wonderful graphics. Keep going - you definitely have a great concept in this one! :)
You flatter me. Thank you!
 
Very good story, thus far, Snugglie.

I am honoured in that you have considered me an inspiration for this AAR.

I thank you for your comment, I am honoured.
Before starting, I also want to pay tribute to crusaderknight, whose AAR The Morea, A Palaeologid AAR has inspired me to start this project. I can only hope for reaching the same heights as him though.
However, after reading your first two chapters, I believe you are the better narrative authAAR. :)

I also enjoyed your map graphics, and the excerpts from Camila's journal. I am curious, how did you get the map and the journals to look like that?
 
Alfred Packer said:
Somehow it escaped me that you were doing a second AAR, but I'm on board now. You've really outdone yourself! The graphics and maps are first rate and the story is excellent.
Thank you very much, always nice to have old readers coming to new AAR's ;) A little off-topic, now when I've got you on the line, I hope you'll keep Crocan Clan being updated in the same marvellous speed in the future :)

Once again, thank you.
crusaderknight said:
Very good story, thus far, Snugglie.

I am honoured in that you have considered me an inspiration for this AAR.

I thank you for your comment, I am honoured.
However, after reading your first two chapters, I believe you are the better narrative authAAR. :)

I also enjoyed your map graphics, and the excerpts from Camila's journal. I am curious, how did you get the map and the journals to look like that?
Ah, you flatter me. And no, I've done all too little of this to consider myself close to your league :D Thank you again.

And as for the graphics, I use Gimp. The map is made with the blank CK-map as a basis, slightly edited in Paint (yes, the horrible MS Paint...) and then edited in Gimp through putting a parchment-textured layer over it. The diary entries are made with only the parchment-layer.

Sadly, this is the only thing I can do in Gimp :) But I be learning.

---

Again, thanks to you all for commenting! If I have time, I might have an update already tonight actually, otherwise there'll be one on Sunday.
 
Off to a good start! I really like the graphics you're using... what effects did you use to make Gottfreid's first picture look like that?
 
General_BT said:
Off to a good start! I really like the graphics you're using... what effects did you use to make Gottfreid's first picture look like that?
Aah, that. ^^ I just uploaded the picture into some program called Virtual Painter 5 -- I actually don't really know where I got it from, believe a friend gave it to me along with a bunch of other stuff on a DVD...

Anyhow, with this program I simply "painted" it as a Gothic Oil Painting :D Two clicks, then it's fixed. I might re-use it for future portraits.

And thank you!
 
Snugglie said:
Ah, you flatter me. And no, I've done all too little of this to consider myself close to your league :D Thank you again.

And as for the graphics, I use Gimp. The map is made with the blank CK-map as a basis, slightly edited in Paint (yes, the horrible MS Paint...) and then edited in Gimp through putting a parchment-textured layer over it. The diary entries are made with only the parchment-layer.

Sadly, this is the only thing I can do in Gimp :) But I be learning.
I guess we will both be able to learn a lot from each other about writing a narative AAR.

Do you mind if I borrow your graphics techniques and use them in my own AAR (assuming, ofcourse, that my very limited skills with graphics editing are up to the task)?
 
crusaderknight said:
I guess we will both be able to learn a lot from each other about writing a narative AAR.

Do you mind if I borrow your graphics techniques and use them in my own AAR (assuming, ofcourse, that my very limited skills with graphics editing are up to the task)?
You are more than welcome to do so :) Just ask if there's anything you'd need help with (woah, never thought I would say that about picture-editing...).
 
How'd you do that cool map thing?
 
Snugglie said:
Well, version 1.05 and then a little of everything actually... heaps of downloaded events, créme de la créme of the CoA's I've been able to find on the forum, and then a few other things. To be completely honest, I've been editing the files so much since installing that I barely remember what is actual game anymore.

Since you have Unruoch van Teisterbant, it means you also use some of my modifications :)


Nice AAR so far, I will try to follow it. Keep it up !