On July 1st, 1070, my father, Bagrat Bagratuni, King of Georgia, passed away, not from the horrible injuries he had sustained in battle, but from old age. Kind of weird, but whatever.
I am Giorgi, King of Georgia. ...Haha. Giorgi King of Georgi-a. *cough* Um anyway, I don't even know what my nickname means, but I'm pretty sure it's something along the lines of "Totally Freaking Awesome" or "Complete And Utter Bad-Ass." Because I am both of these things.
This is my son, Teimuraz. Note the lack of an awesome nickname. Also note that, despite the fact that I am married to my own cousin, he is not cross-eyed or bow-legged or has an extra arm or any other tell-tale signs of being inbred. Further proof of my awesomness and bad-assity.
Awwwwright, time to get down to bidness.
Durgurfurmeldurgadurgurgle, Prince of the Alans, wishes to renew the alliance he held with my father. I accept, despite the fact that the only thing that puts the Alan Rickmans above the level of hairy unwashed barbarians like the Cumans is the fact that they are Christian.
I, Giorgi King of Georgi-a, am a generous man, and offer to welcome the rebellious Prince Ioane of Kartli back into the fold.
He wisely accepts.
I think it is time to give a proper introduction to this dastardly ne'er-do-well. Note Ioane Backwashi's lack of an awesome nickname. He is also more loyal to me than to my father, probably because of my awesomeness.
It was around this time that this hobo cousin of mine stumbled into my court. He claims to have been in the service of some Byzantine prince in Anatolia and keeps babbling on about how the Turks burned everything and killed everyone and he's the only survivor or whatever.
I tell him to shut the crap up and marry him to one of my courtiers, and order him to start producing rug rat Bagrats.
Scute your boot! We require more dudes for my illustrious army of awesomeness.
After one year on the throne, I have stabilized the kingdom by ending Ioane Backwashi's rebellion and renewing our alliance with the Alan Rickmans. It is clear that I am awesome, so I would like to take the time to point this out:
It's not St. George slaying a dragon on the coat of arms.
It's
me.