Leiv of Brian - An AAR debut

Thank you very much!
Now, apparently your game log is changed if you start a new game in between. I thought I'd check out China. This means that about fifty years are unaccounted for, but today I've played up until the Reformation...

Thankfully, I could easily reconstruct what happened. And with a fair bit of artistic license, I'll be able to present the second installment in this epic... "Cuisine and Cousins" is the working title

Originally posted by Aetius
This feels very blackadderesque with the pidgeons and "Cuisine and Cousins", watched it much or is it just my imagination?

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Well, to make a game played with Norway by a less-than-brilliant EU player interesting, one would have to put the focus elsewhere than on the lack of action in-game... right now it's 1520, and some interesting developments have actually occurred.

Cuisine and Cousins

Cuisine and Cousins.
The life of Leiv of Brian ca. 1430-to some time quite a bit later.

We’ll let brave gravel inspector and fishmonger Leiv Of Brian tell his tale:
“The end of the Kalmar Union led to something happening, actually. Now we were unpopular. Not only because of fish breath and rubbish castles, but because we had cancelled vassallisation with the Danes.

Why did kings all of a sudden care about what we did? Had they discovered something valuable here? Well, I thought that Sigurd perhaps should try to get some intermarriage with other <b>royal</b> houses. And since almost every noble in this country is related to one another in a way, they were also related to the king. And so we had plenty of young girls reeking of fish to choose from. First, we got a blonde girl to marry some Swede. Apparently, the king was busy in his boudoir as well, as an heir to the throne was soon born. And people celebrated with “rakfisk”, and something even fouler; the “lutefisk”. This is made from poisoning and salting the fish, then cooking it for hours. The good thing was that the stability rose.

I continued to ship womenfolk out of the country, some nobles, some just disguised as princesses, marrying them to dukes and other strange-looking men around Europe. I even got as far as Castille. Then I tired of being a match maker.
I returned to Norway with a feeling that our heap of rock could need some improvement. I told Sigurd this, and he agreed. We diverted what some people called ‘taxes’ toward infrastructure and trade. I wouldn’t so much call it taxes. More… ahem… ‘Stealing from the poor and giving to the poor’.

So, there we were. Not much happening, apart from me convincing the Council to go for a more naval approach in our domestic policy. After all, the fish does come from the ocean (I wrote the council a little song about the fish in the sea), and we could perhaps use a navy? I made a resolution to build a warship every three years. Then I heard of some Southern European business called banking. This meant we could get money, but had to repay these “bankers” later. I discussed this with the king, along with my childhood in Ireland. I said I very much liked minstrels’ songs. “U 2?”, he replied. I pondered this for a while and replied 'yes'. We decided to take up a loan to build a small navy and dispatch some minstrels terribly lacking in talent to Iceland. When I told the king, he nodded and said “A-ha”.

Apparently, either the fish or gravel business was going incredibly well, or someone was playing tricks with us. A fisherman presented us with a gift of 200 ducats. Well, thanks a lot! We used this on promoting bailiffs and sending people we didn’t much like to remote areas like Kola, Finnmark and Narvik.

One day, I found the guards at the pile of rubbish throwing snowballs at a strangely dressed person, telling him to leave for places warmer than Norway. I stopped them, and asked what they were doing. ‘Keeping order’. Right. Well, I had a little chit-chat with this character they had abused with snowballs, and found out he was a bit of a pansy. A drill instructor, he called himself. Did we need any drilling? I pointed out the holes already present in the pile of rubbish, but he corrected me, and told me he could improve our army. I pointed to the men swaggering drunkenly through the ‘streets’, and asked: ‘These men? You can sort them out?’. Apparently, he could. For a fee. So the treasurer, who was also a stable boy, said we had taken yet another loan. These loans are so great!

I also gathered that grain would be useful to have. It seemed that preciously little grain grew among the rubble, gravel and trees in Norway. One merchant said that they traded a lot of it in Kurland. So we sent a few merchants there, and I asked them to get me some mutton as well. I grow tired of ‘rakfisk’ these days.

Apart from this, we also got a general leading our army. Someone called Bolt. I hired him at once, because I remembered hearing about the thunder god Thor, with his bolts of lightning. Apparently, I had been mistaken, as this Bolt was called Amund. Oh, well. You can’t win them all.

At my estate, the shrubberies and gravel was become a nice path, where I would walk, thinking about the mutton I was about to receive. The next time I went to the pile of rubbish, king Sigurd announced that the mutton had arrived and been prepared. I was really looking forward to roast lamb. Instead, I got some stew, made out of cabbage… and my precious mutton. ‘Standard Norwegian dish’, said the cook, who was also a man of the cloth. ‘It’s called ‘fårikål’. I looked rather sheepish, I suspect. When will I ever get some decent food?

Much happened elsewhere in Europe these days. England and Burgundy were intent on sweeping through the continent, while Lithuania and Ryazan also grew rapidly at the expense of the Not-So-Golden Horde. Much to our surprise, the Swedes invited Mecklemburg and Oldenburg to join our alliance. Not so much to our surprise, this lead us into war again. This time with England and Burgundy. And Savoy, I think. Well, some faraway state it was. Thankfully, we now had a navy of five ships. This we sent to patrol our coastline. Surprisingly, as we suddenly were at war again, some fishermen rebuilt their fishing boats into warships and joined us. These ships we filled with Thunderbolt and 4000 men, and sent to Friesland. They lay siege to Friesland, and was much ignored by the Burgundians, as Bolt and his men seemed more interested in fishing than actually taking the castle there. We got reports of some desertions and exceptionally nice herring. And of clogs.

The English of course invaded us, laying a siege to Bergenhus. Their invasion force had evaded our fleet, but as the fleet that had brought the force tried to escape, we showed them what we were made of. Apparently, we were made of less solid materials, like feathers.

The English didn’t seem to enjoy Bergen much. They froze, they were ill because of the ‘rakfisk’, and soon enough, the remnants of their army, some four thousand men, marched towards Oslo, probably to complain about the food. Our army, five thousand men, of which two thousand were cavalry, beat them, and soon a white peace was signed with England. Celebrations were seen both in the pile of rubbish and elsewhere in the country. Bolt and his men were not exactly making progress, which may be a result of Bolt actually dying in Friesland. A fleet was ordered to pick up the remnants of the army and brought them home. Oldenburg was annexed by Burgundy. One might be forgiven for thinking these Burgundians were trying to set up some European super-state. The peace treaty was signed in Maastricht.
Soon after, Norway signed a white peace with Burgundy.

Philosophy is not what I’d suspect any Norwegian of having a knack for, but apparently some monk (his name was Edvard, I believe) had been writing a thesis about fish and how this particular species was demonic. As this challenged much of what most Norwegians held dear (the fish), we gave the thinker some time to think some more in a box down in the pile of rubbish.

As I one day was tending my shrubberies and inspecting the gravel on my estate, a messenger came. He brought a sad message. The king was dead. I had sort of grown to like the king, despite his fondness of ‘rakfisk’. However, his son wasn’t all bad, either. I therefore decided to continue my work for the ill…ahem… well-being of Norway. I went to the pile of rubbish and watched his crowning, then used my match-making skills and found him a nice Scottish wee lassie. Since the new king was far from being good-looking, people felt this was as good as a miracle, and our stability increased. These were good times. I was settling in nicely at Brian, and in the spring my shrubberies were looking very nice. I was tempted to name my home Chateau Brian…

A bit later, we were at war again. The Swedes were at it again, and Mecklemburg and ourselves decided to go along. This time against Novgorod and Lithuania. We dispatched all of our forces to the North, invaded Karelia, the Arkanghelsk, and lay siege to Olonets. Why? Well, I felt it was time to do something. The Swedes took most of the heat, anyway. Colonel Hård sent reports of many things furry in the Novgorod lands and that we controlled Far Karelia and Arkhangelsk. The siege in Olonets was freezing, but Hård was convinced that it would be over within a few months. His men fed on snow. Amazing character, this Hård. To be on the safe side, we recruited some more men and sent them along too. They were convinced that they were going south to find suitable accommodation near the Balearic Isles. Well, I let them labour under this misapprehension. This was financed by another exceptional herring year. The herring apparently was flocking to the Norwegian coast, and this also meant a welcome break from ‘rakfisk’ on my dinner table. The introduction of reindeer from Finnmark into Norwegian cuisine also helped greatly. We made a small, abortive attempt to train these reindeer to guard our northern border. I discarded the red herring on my dinner table when I heard that the reindeer had escaped.

As we now had Olonets on our hands as well, and the Swedes were knocking on the walls of Novgorod, asking for the keys to the gate, we decided to sue for peace. This time we got Far Karelia. Hård and his men retired to Kola, and we sent some beaver hunters to Far Karelia.
The realm was growing, although we weren’t exactly doing a Burgundy. Thanks to our lack of lenience towards usage of the brain by our subjects, colonists were ready to go just about anywhere. If only we had some more places to send them. And more money to equip them adequately. Now, adequate equipment in Norway was hard to find, so they we’re generally just given a barrel of fish and told to go.

In Iceland, apart from enjoying the geysers and fish, people had found some old documents describing a land to the west of the island. Naturally, I was concerned that the sulphuric nature of the water of Iceland had done their heads in. Sulphur. I seemed to remember something about hell and sulphur from my days of listening to monks in Ireland.

This was no time to go west. The Swedes thought it was a time to go south, and declared war on Poland. Suffice to say, our contribution to the war effort was sending our navy to the Baltic region and beating the Poles in a sea battle. The victory was celebrated with ‘rakfisk’, ‘fårikål and ‘lutefisk’ together with strong ale. My goodness, my Guinness. That’s how to use that imported grain.”

Hopefully, we’ll hear from Leiv again soon….

Rebels, scraelings, peace, love and snow – Norway 1485 to 1515

Leiv and I have been absent recently, due to illness. Well, I’ve been ill, and Leiv is just a figment of my imagination, and I suppose he has been slightly ill as well.
However, here is the latest instalment of Leiv’s saga. And now, things are actually happening. Therefore, less references to fish and trivial everyday life on Brian. One note: ‘Scraeling’ is apparently what the early Norse invaders in North America called the Indians. And would a Norwegian sailor call a native American an Indian? Probably not. Therefore, the term ‘scraeling’ is used.


”Given the lack of much to report in Norway, you may see that time passes quickly in my saga. We have now reached the year 1485. I can’t believe I have spent so many years in this country. Must be all the fish that’s keeping me young. That or some sort of supernatural power. Still, here I am, the king’s ‘Mostly Respected Advisor’ Leiv of Brian. So what has happened lately?

Well, the pile of rubbish has actually been made up rather nicely, since one of the cleverer gravel producers found a way to strengthen it. It actually has walls these days. And, one day, another foreigner was being assaulted by the guards. He claimed to be a well-known painter. I asked him to paint the pile of rubbish, and make a portrait of the king while he was at it. It cost us a small fortune. Funds are not exactly piling up. Even though our population has increased both in Østlandet and in Bergenhus with some 5.000 people, the coffers here at the castle (it actually deserves its name now) are precariously empty. Now and then we have been at war with Poland, Lithuania and Muscovy, giving us the province of Archangelsk. Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Mecklemburg and Prussia make up the alliance named by the French king as ‘The Madmen of the North’. Thanks to enormous defections of provinces from Austria/Burgundy, Mecklemburg now is the dominant power in Germany.

Since I had long advocated that more effort was being put into developing our naval capabilities, it came as no surprise that a bunch of raving mad Icelanders discovered a large island west of Iceland. It was perhaps not so much that they discovered it, more that they could not fail to see it, despite their drunken stupor. So, in the year 1486, the first overseas colony of Norway was established in Eiriksfjord. I wanted to call it Brian II, but the king claimed it should be named after the saint king of Norway, St. Olav. I did not object, as I was busy stuffing my face with fish.

The Icelanders sailed further west, as they believed that my namesake Leiv Eriksson had travelled the same way some five hundred years ago. And, to my great surprise, they were right. An even bigger island was discovered west of Greenland. I wonder if you keep going west, you’ll just find more and more land? Some Englishmen had settled parts of this big island, but we established four trading posts. In Chesapeake, Nain, Isle Royale and Roanoke the Norwegian lion (strange symbol for this country, but the king merely scoffed at my suggestion of replacing the lion with a halibut) was flying high.

Parchments were rediscovered from an earlier Norse settlement in Eiriksfjord, describing ‘the scraelings’ further west. Our traders came into contact with some people who might fit the description in a place called Manhattan. Apparently, they had a big centre of trade there.

The king, myself and some of his closest advisors locked ourselves in the basement of the castle and hatched evil plans for about a week. We would take the centre of trade in Manhattan. The scraelings did not scare us. Therefore, in 1495 we declared war on the scraelings in Manhattan. We had shipped our entire army from Østlandet, to Iceland, to Eiriksfjord and then to Chesapeake. Our attack met with great success, and soon our soldiers were busy sieging the scraeling settlements. Our army of 12.000 men easily beat a scraeling force in Manhattan, and soon we controlled the centre of trade. Our commander, Kamp, sued for peace, and we now owned the centre of trade. Gold would be flowing in. Unfortunately, the scraelings still lived there, and they persisted worshipping their false gods and speaking their own tongue. Rebellions were on our hands. Therefore we needed to raise a new army on the mainland. And so we did. And, at the cathedral of Nidaros we unexpectedly found the Norwegian Inquisition. They were quickly shipped to Manhattan in order to root out the evil elements among the scraelings. Equipped with ‘rakfisk’, ‘lutfisk’ and some relics from the cathedral, the Inquisition went to work.

Then came what I call ‘ The Times of Problematic Behaviour by the Population’. It all started with me calling for even freer subjects. Our stability was lowered, as some nobles found the idea preposterous. Then, encouraged by their new won freedom, some peasants came to the king with a petition. Unwittingly, he accepted. Our stability was now at an absolute low, and since we had been involved in a war fought by the Swedes against Poland, people were tired of war and of our rule in general. Rebellions sprung up in Bergenhus, Jamtland, Kola and Iceland. As if this wasn’t enough, some laymen preachers went around spreading the word that doomsday was imminent. New rebellions rose as soon as we could put them down. All of our investments were directed at raising our stability. Finally, Sweden accepted a peace with Poland, and at least the risk of and frequency of rebellions was lowered slightly. At this point, I locked myself in at my little house (Brian) and wept a little. This was a smart move, because soon after, plague hit both Bergenhus and Østlandet, greatly decimating the population.

The chief Inquisitor, Bishop Tieemup, came to the castle and informed us that they had been ever so successful in showing the scraelings the ways of Christ, Norway and fish, and that they now fully embraced our culture. Of course, this had cost some lives, but in general the scraelings in Manhattan could now be trusted to behave as uncivilised as us.

Time had passed again. We were now reading the date 1st of January 1514. The Norwegian empire stretched from Archangelsk in the east to Chesapeake in the west. We continued to send colonists to every corner of the known world, and soon we also had colonies on Bermuda and Cape Verde, and even a trade post on the coast of Africa.

In Europe, the alliance of the ‘Madmen of the North’ seemed strong enough to deter any attacks from the south, where England and a new state, Flanders, were consolidating their power. In the east, only Lithuania posed much of a threat. Novgorod existed no more, as Denmark had annexed them. Muscovy was thorn by civil war, and soon some people calling themselves Russia emerged from two of Muscowy’s revolting provinces. Things were indeed looking bright for the kingdom of Norway. I was thinking about suggesting to the king that he proclaimed himself an emperor or something one day as I was chewing on some ‘rakfisk’.

The scraelings are trembling... the only way I think this has been made possible is by staying out of big wars, keeping the BB down and being allied with Sweden. Those revolts did almost tear the kingdom apart, so I've been VERY lucky. The CoT will help a lot, though.

Originally posted by Aetius
Great fun!
So when are the Norwegians going to start salting and smoking their fish?

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It may happen quite soon, as we now have a tobacco-producing province in Chesapeake. Need one with salt, though...

By the way... thanks for the positive feedback! I will try to get some screenshots soon. And I pray that the frequency of CTD that I've had recently is purely coincidental.

To any Norwegian readers out there: Does anyone else experience problems when trying to access your "free webspace" provided by Chello?

Originally posted by Hardu
This is a great AAR. Are you playing 1.02 or 1.03 ? I never got an explorer in 1.02. You must have gotten at least one.

PS. A lot of people have been exposed to the combination of Rokkan and EU2. Haven't you noticed that Frank Aarebrot is a lot less on TV these days ...

Also, IMO, I really think Stein Rokkan would have enjoyed the game - and had a couple of suggestions.

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I'm playing 1.03. In 1.02, it didn't matter how long I waited; Norway never got an explorer. After 1500, they pop up every third year, almost. I think Havard said something about going naval increases the chance of an explorer. I'm very naval...

I think the game is 'Rokkanesque' in many ways. I'd like to think that by using events, one could even more 'accurately' simulate the conflicts between a centralising authority and the subjects, and the change from 'subject' to 'citizen' is reflected through the plutocracy/aristocracy and decentralisation/centralisation sliders.

The game is progressing much better than I thought. Must be my peaceful nature and opportunistic peace settlements...

Is Frank Aarebrot playing EU II? I should get my old mentor at the university to try it. Since you're obviously well into Rokkan, you'll probably recognise the name Bernt Hagtvet as well, Hardu.

Is there an After-Leiv?

Leiv is back again. This time he’s a bit disturbed by events completely out of his hands. Now, Norway has no events after the end of the Union of Kalmar, and thus, there are no Great Naval Reforms or rise of the bourgeoisie to write about. Norway did, however, experience the Reformation… and so does our friend Leiv.

“So much has happened in a hundred years. It seems like yesterday when I came to Oslo to see Sigurd Jonsson for the first time. Well, it’s been more than a century since that. He’s no longer king and his successors have been… well, average at best. However, I’ve grown to like this country with all its rubble, fish and snow. Since my arrival, it has also expanded to territories filled with furry animals, strange leaves and, unsurprisingly, more fish.

The discovery of a land beyond the horizon, filled with scraelings and strange leaves, has made a great impact upon the people of Norway. Well, the nobles mostly, but also the common people. First of all, quite a few died from poisoning when making soups out of the leaves brought back from Scraelingland. Observing the scraelings, our men found out that one is supposed to smoke these leaves, not cook them. I’ve tried it too. Makes a nice break from the taste of fish. The king nowadays walks around in the castle (formerly known as ‘the pile of rubbish’), smoking leaves and coughing. In the kitchen, they have been smoking salmon, sea bass, herring and halibut. It tastes… different… from the ‘rakfisk’. Second of all, people are moving over to Scraelingland and Greenland at quite a pace. We now have a city in Chesapeake, financed by our marvellous centre of trade in Manhattan. We have event began colonising the inland, somewhere called Powhatan. More tobacco for us!

In matters of faith, I have always relied on the archbishop of Nidaros to lead the way. I am perhaps not the best of Christians, since I merely pray for some mutton instead of fish, but I have always believed in the authority of the Pope and all that. I have, however, discovered that there is a good tradition of being excommunicated among Norwegian kings. King Sverre, who died in 1202, seems to have fallen out with the Pope. I read all this in some old parchments, written by someone called Snorri Sturlasson.

Down somewhere in the German-speaking lands, a monk called Martin Luther obviously tired so much of the Pope and his demands about celibacy that he chose to rebel against papal authority. His discourses have also been spreading to Norway. Several nobles, the king and the council members all seem to read them with great interest. I can’t be bothered. I prefer to tend my shrubberies and say a few ‘Ave Marias’ now and then instead of getting into deep thoughts about the Pope’s authority or lack of such. Still, it bothers me that this supposed ‘heresy’ has spread so far into our country. And it bothered the archbishop even more.

Some other things also happened. I got an assistant. The king thought I needed one. I said ‘Fine, who is she?’. Unfortunately, it was a ‘he’. His name was Douglas MacDouglas. He was a Scottish immigrant. Why on earth he chose Norway is beyond me. Doug (as I call him) is about 6 feet 5 tall, has reddish hair and a keen taste for whisky. Fortunately, one of the things he had salvaged from his ‘castle near the Loch, a big castle, not like yir sh*** buildings’ was a barrel of this brownish liquid. Well, I invited him to stay in the guest room at Brian, and he accepted, but seemed very disappointed when we arrived from our horseback ride from Oslo.
- “Ah widnae call it a castle”, he said.
- “Oh, shut up! I’ve done my best to improve it. When I came here, all there ever was here was stone. And a few shrubberies. Now there’s gravel, trees and even more shrubberies”, I replied.
- “Oh, aye… great improvement…”

I wasn’t too sure that I’d get along with Doug. Especially not after he complained that ‘the bed’s jist too wee for me’. I gave him some fish and told him to sleep. We had much to do with this Lutheranism and all. All he could say was “Aye, gie us jist a wee drink, then”. Doug was a heavy drinker. And not so much a thinker. I chewed a few mouthfuls of 'rakfisk', and Doug necked a few bottles of whisky before I tucked in the big man.

Enough about Doug and his habits for now. Since 1500, Europe had changed considerably. France had almost conquered all of, well, France. Austria was losing its possessions in the Lowlands, those who called themselves Russians were on the rise, Novgorod had re-emerged, and the old Byzantine Empire was growing rapidly. However, the emperor was now a good catholic. Strange. Oh, well. As long as he kept the Turk in his place and only warred against Bulgars and those other peoples on the Balkans, I didn’t care all that much.

In 1530, a new great King, Haakon VII, ascended to the throne of Norway. I was thinking about how different the crowning of Sigurd Jonsson had been. Just a few plague-stricken nobles, some fish and a mumbling archbishop. Now it was a real feast. Well, almost. Doug was strikingly drunk, and told the new king that ‘ah used tae be a great lord in mah country’, and otherwise insulting guests from Sweden and Denmark with rude gestures.

Haakon was obviously influenced by Luther. And he spent hours talking to the Swedish king. I think they were hatching a plot against the Pope. Well, never mind consulting me, then!

The same year, we had an exceptional herring year again, giving us ducats to throw away by sending more colonists to Scraelingland and Cape Verde. I believed this island to be important to our future expansion of our interests in the area. And there is plenty of fish in the sea. Near Cape Verde, that is. So, since fish is important to Norway, we want those fishy provinces.

A word or two about our domestic policies. I found it best to try our best to create a free society, where people could speak and do much like they wanted. This would help our armies and help our technology improvement. And, unsurprisingly, it did. We were the leading nation in military technology in the ‘Madmen of the North’ alliance. Well, almost. Mecklemburg were better equipped.

1531 became a year I would remember. The Swedes decided to become the first Protestant kingdom in the world. They fully embraced the teachings of Martin Luther, and the church became subordinate to the king. I mentioned this to Haakon, and he grinned. I mentioned it to Doug, and he immediately left to ‘have a wee talk with the Archbishop’. Everybody seems to ignore me these days. Well, so be it.

Some time later, two noble families were in a feud. I simply don’t understand this; there are hardly any nobles in this country. Why are they feuding? Doug convinced me that we should side with one of the families. A revolt in Eiriksfjord was on our hands. Right. Note to self: Do not listen to Doug.

After long discussions, the council (strangely enough including yours truly this time) decided that we should follow Sweden’s example. The date was October 5th 1533, a day I will remember. Upon hearing our decision, peasants and nobles revolted almost everywhere in our realm. I gave Doug the responsibility to clean up the mess, and went to lock myself in at Brian. I sat there for the next five years.

Apparently, according to a letter he sent me, Doug was fairly successful in quashing the rebellions:
“Leiv, auld mate!
Ahm writin tae tell ye that thum rebellions ave been crushed. Ah jist told them sodjiers tae git on with thir business. They’ve crushed rebellions in Scraelingland, Bermuda, Kola, Finnmark and aw. Denmark and England huv joined us. So has Brandenburg or sumthin”.

A man of few words. I received a letter from king Haakon saying much of the same, but in many more words. He also noted that a new centre of trade has opened in Cape Verde, and that Doug forcefully sent people to the coast of Africa. Apparently he told them he’d eat them if they didn’t go.

Sometime in 1538, I came out of Brian again, eager to get back into the business of counselling the king. My first move was to increase our investment in stability. Everywhere I went, people looked unhappy. And they told me it was not because of the ‘rakfisk’.

The ‘Age of pissed-of subjects’ was what Doug called this period. We had rebellions everywhere, and our armies were busy quashing them. I gave Doug the position as head of ‘The Commission of Eternal Truths and Infliction of Grave Bodily Harm on Those who Fail to Obey These Truths” (a.k.a. The Norwegian Inquisition), and dispatched him to Narvik to ‘convince’ the people there of their erroneous ways. The kingdom was unstable. Very unstable. Had it not been for our navy and their quick dispatch of our soldiery to areas of rebel control, we would have been in even more dire straits. Thankfully, our soldiers were brothers in arms and knew most walks of life.”


Well, still working on those screenshots.
And Hardu: It seems as if we have a lot of the same education behind us.

The years from 1540 to about will be covered in the next installment.