-
We have updated our Community Code of Conduct. Please read through the new rules for the forum that are an integral part of Paradox Interactive’s User Agreement.
1487-1489: Poets - Cultural Icons or Sitting Ducks?
Well now, that is Two poets down in two episodes! Things are looking grim for the AttPL’s of Crovania! However, for certain Emeprors, things are looking up indeed! Soon we meet the oldest child of the Spyder. Who is the man (or woman)? Find out on the next exciting episode of The Adventures of the Crovan Clan 2: The World Is Way Too Much!
Erik I “The Spyder” Kolbeinsson Crovan
Emperor of the Crovan Empire
The Meissen War
(21 April 1487 – 3 May 1489)
“Well then, gentlemen, before we get down to details, my advisory council has seen quite a shake-up recently, so let us get reacquainted, shall we?”
“Well, I’ll go first. I am Chief Magistrate Knut Haraldson. My job is to maintain order in the realm. I have recently acquired a corner bedchamber, so everyone, please stop by whenever you want and we – “
Erik cut Knut off quickly. “Next!”
“Right, well, I am Bard Sigurdsson, second son of the Duke of Champagne, Marshal of the Armies and Chancellor of the Realm.”
“And I, I am Heinrich Augustenborg, the new Assistant to the Poet Laureate, at your service mi’lords.” Heinrich bowed theatrically low.
“Nice hat.”
Heinrich flushed with pleasure. “Why thank you! I got it second hand off the Haberdasher near the slop cart, down on Market – “
“I’m sorry. Let me stop you there. I was trying to sarcastically insult you.”
Heinrich frowned. “Well, I guess your ‘low-brow’ humour just passed under me.”
“Well that’s cute. Have we got the cat-fight out of the way? Heinrich is going to revamp Geoffrey’s ‘Northern War’ poem and he’s going to produce another Epic for the crown, so I felt it would be useful for him to serve in the cabinet. He’s in charge of your legacy Bard, I’d be nice to him if I were you.”
Bard blanched. “Right…you know I was just kidding, right Heinrich? Say, which haberdasher did you say again –“
“Enough, gentlemen. We have a war to plan and execute.”
Meissen is the target, but their vassal Candar does not have a signed truce with us, so they will bear the brunt of the attack. At Bard’s suggestion, we hired 12,000 Mercenaries, since Manpower is still at such a premium.
Meissen takes the bait, which as you can see, was very, very foolish of them.
We destroyed their fleet quickly.
And then their army.
And that was the end of Meissen.
Emperor Erik enters Heinrich’s apartments, only to be confronted with a bloody scene. Heinrich, or rather, what is left of him, is a bloody lump in the middle of the room. Standing over him, a look of utter shock on his face and a bloody axe in his hands is Bard Sigurdsson.
“What the Hell, Bard? You know I just hired him right? You were at the meeting, weren’t you?”
“I’m sorry sire. I was just coming by to talk to him, you know, see how his poem on the Meissen War was coming and I read this.” Bard picked up a piece of paper and read from it:
“The Siguard’s son cowered,
And soiled himself crying for mum.
Meissen laughed at him.”
“I mean, yeah there is more, but come on? I am not going down into posterity as a coward! Your Majesty, I had no choice.”
Erik was appalled, “God Lord! He wrote the victory Epic in Haiku?” His face grew stern, “Bard, you’ve done a greater service this day than any Marshal has ever done his master. But clean this mess up before you leave.”
Erik turned and left the room.
Emperor of the Crovan Empire
The Meissen War
(21 April 1487 – 3 May 1489)
“Well then, gentlemen, before we get down to details, my advisory council has seen quite a shake-up recently, so let us get reacquainted, shall we?”
“Well, I’ll go first. I am Chief Magistrate Knut Haraldson. My job is to maintain order in the realm. I have recently acquired a corner bedchamber, so everyone, please stop by whenever you want and we – “
Erik cut Knut off quickly. “Next!”
“Right, well, I am Bard Sigurdsson, second son of the Duke of Champagne, Marshal of the Armies and Chancellor of the Realm.”
“And I, I am Heinrich Augustenborg, the new Assistant to the Poet Laureate, at your service mi’lords.” Heinrich bowed theatrically low.
“Nice hat.”
Heinrich flushed with pleasure. “Why thank you! I got it second hand off the Haberdasher near the slop cart, down on Market – “
“I’m sorry. Let me stop you there. I was trying to sarcastically insult you.”
Heinrich frowned. “Well, I guess your ‘low-brow’ humour just passed under me.”
“Well that’s cute. Have we got the cat-fight out of the way? Heinrich is going to revamp Geoffrey’s ‘Northern War’ poem and he’s going to produce another Epic for the crown, so I felt it would be useful for him to serve in the cabinet. He’s in charge of your legacy Bard, I’d be nice to him if I were you.”
Bard blanched. “Right…you know I was just kidding, right Heinrich? Say, which haberdasher did you say again –“
“Enough, gentlemen. We have a war to plan and execute.”
Meissen is the target, but their vassal Candar does not have a signed truce with us, so they will bear the brunt of the attack. At Bard’s suggestion, we hired 12,000 Mercenaries, since Manpower is still at such a premium.
Meissen takes the bait, which as you can see, was very, very foolish of them.
We destroyed their fleet quickly.
And then their army.
And that was the end of Meissen.
Emperor Erik enters Heinrich’s apartments, only to be confronted with a bloody scene. Heinrich, or rather, what is left of him, is a bloody lump in the middle of the room. Standing over him, a look of utter shock on his face and a bloody axe in his hands is Bard Sigurdsson.
“What the Hell, Bard? You know I just hired him right? You were at the meeting, weren’t you?”
“I’m sorry sire. I was just coming by to talk to him, you know, see how his poem on the Meissen War was coming and I read this.” Bard picked up a piece of paper and read from it:
“The Siguard’s son cowered,
And soiled himself crying for mum.
Meissen laughed at him.”
“I mean, yeah there is more, but come on? I am not going down into posterity as a coward! Your Majesty, I had no choice.”
Erik was appalled, “God Lord! He wrote the victory Epic in Haiku?” His face grew stern, “Bard, you’ve done a greater service this day than any Marshal has ever done his master. But clean this mess up before you leave.”
Erik turned and left the room.
Well now, that is Two poets down in two episodes! Things are looking grim for the AttPL’s of Crovania! However, for certain Emeprors, things are looking up indeed! Soon we meet the oldest child of the Spyder. Who is the man (or woman)? Find out on the next exciting episode of The Adventures of the Crovan Clan 2: The World Is Way Too Much!
- 1
Alot has happened since I last read this one, and apparently you haven't steamrolled everything as I had thought you would. This aar is great, by just glancing at some tidbits of it makes me smile. Great job, Alfred Packer!
Loved the after school special. It had me thinking about what cheesy soundtrack would be played in the background just a bit too loudly, and then crescendo right before the commercial break.
Aspiring writers in Crovania who prefer a continual connection between head and neck would be advised to focus on prose...
Aspiring writers in Crovania who prefer a continual connection between head and neck would be advised to focus on prose...
Sorry gang, I was hoping to sneak one last update in here before I went on vacation, but alas, that isn't going to happen...so I will see you all at the end of this month/first of next month and have a happy Thanksgiving (if you are American) and don't (if you are not)
I will say, hold on to your horses people, because things are about to get interesting in Crovan-ville!
(well, maybe not, but "hold onto your horses people, more poo-jokes coming soon!" makes for a lousy teaser)
I will say, hold on to your horses people, because things are about to get interesting in Crovan-ville!
(well, maybe not, but "hold onto your horses people, more poo-jokes coming soon!" makes for a lousy teaser)
Btw, could we also get a list of the Kings tittle at the beginning of each updates?
King oh bla,bla,bla,bla,bla,bla,bla,bla,
Duke of that, that, that, that, that, that, that, that, that, that,
Extra tittle, more extra tittles.
New random eu titles, more of them.
Etc?
Would be funny to follow what kind of tittle kings usually collect during eu3 time frame.
The modern day royal houses can have very odd tittles... including very random ones.
Nice update!
King oh bla,bla,bla,bla,bla,bla,bla,bla,
Duke of that, that, that, that, that, that, that, that, that, that,
Extra tittle, more extra tittles.
New random eu titles, more of them.
Etc?
Would be funny to follow what kind of tittle kings usually collect during eu3 time frame.
The modern day royal houses can have very odd tittles... including very random ones.
Nice update!
The Crovans, always exaggerating. Apparently they can now destroy not-existing ships.Alfred Packer said:
We destroyed their fleet quickly.
-2 ships when there was only 1 to start with ???
Berrrie said:
Apparently the Crovans are so awesome that they captured the ship AND destroyed it at the same time!
Thats a double kill!
I am rather freaked out over the fact that Candar actually are occupying Jämtland.
aannnd...we're back
vanin: heh. I've never steamrolled anything in EUIII! Although, my empires do tend to wander about quite a bit
Rastar: heh, yeah I loved those...I keep thinking of NBC's "The More you know" sound for the curtain call
demokratickid: right were they belong
Murmurandus: poo-jokes=AAR Comedy Gold!
canonized: but of course!
Kommunaut: glad you like them! I hope you keep on enjoying!
Enewald: we will...probably not too many in Erik's lifetime - he's more of a "real power" kind of guy...but we will
Berrie: I guess it broke in half before sinking. We saved the bottom half
Hellvink: no wait, I like your answer better
Snugglie: You've got to watch those Candarvians...always scheming that lot is.
vanin: heh. I've never steamrolled anything in EUIII! Although, my empires do tend to wander about quite a bit
Rastar: heh, yeah I loved those...I keep thinking of NBC's "The More you know" sound for the curtain call
demokratickid: right were they belong
Murmurandus: poo-jokes=AAR Comedy Gold!
canonized: but of course!
Kommunaut: glad you like them! I hope you keep on enjoying!
Enewald: we will...probably not too many in Erik's lifetime - he's more of a "real power" kind of guy...but we will
Berrie: I guess it broke in half before sinking. We saved the bottom half
Hellvink: no wait, I like your answer better
Snugglie: You've got to watch those Candarvians...always scheming that lot is.
1489: May 3 sure takes a long time
Okay, so we didn’t meet Erik’s offspring, but we did get to see him simultaneously destroy the prestige of both the Crovan Empire and Bohemia! And also cut the tax revenues of the HRE. Maybe next time we’ll get to meet Erik’s kid. Find out on the next exciting episode of The Adventures of the Crovan Clan 2: The World Is Way Too Much!
Erik I “The Spyder” Kolbeinsson Crovan
Emperor of the Crovan Empire
In Which An Imperial Diet Gets Slightly Out Of Hand
(3 May 1489)
“With the unfortunate passing of Heinrich by…ahem…suicide, I have been forced to appoint a new Assistant to the Posthumous Poet Laureate. I have chosen the Poet William Frobisher, from our Scottish territories. William, since you will be sitting in on all meetings of the Imperial Council, please introduce yourself.”
“Right. Well. Nice to meet you all. Anyway, I am certainly not one of the great Emperor Full-Dan’s caliber, but I am a poet. And I know it.”
William paused, a nervous half-smile broke over his face, but no one laughed at his joke, so he continued.
“Ahem. Right. Then, I guess I will sit here quietly, but first, a little sampling of my works:
While I was wining, even dining, my dear friend Heinrich was dying.
as he rained axe blows upon his own head.
Geoffrey Chaucer, noted hereafter, hung himself upon a rafter,
to small to face great Full-Dan’s shadow full.
Erik Larsson bore Chaucer’s frustration and demonstrated defenestration,
the mortar of the street is still stained red.
Emperor Full-Dan, by Aslak’s beard, found himself in hind end speared,
his poet’s soul left this world too soon.
So here I am, a lofty poet, but with these violent ends I know it,
I shall not leave this world peacefully.”
William sat down.
“Well that was depressing. Thanks William.”
“I don’t know. I thought it was rather interesting. What do you call that weird rhyme thing you have going on there?” Bard was hoping for better press from the new Assistant to the Laureate.
“Ah! What a discerning ear. It is an internal rhyme scheme of my own devising. I call it the “Full-Dan Couplet,” since the rhyme is hidden within the verse, much as the Poet-King had to hide his authorship of the legendary Viken Tales.”
“Your right about Larsson’s stain you know. I’ve scrubbed and scrubbed the cobblestones and, well, nothing. Frankly, I think the windowsill is haunted. Sometimes, at night, when the wind is blowing, the curtains move and I feel a cold, icy presence in the room.”
Bard regarded Knut with open contempt. “That presence, moving the curtains and making you chilly. Could it be, oh I don’t know, wind?”
Knut looked downcast. “I suppose. But that’s not very exciting now is it?”
“Okay, before this goes any further. Gentlemen, I have been summoned to an Imperial Diet in Worms by the Holy Roman Emperor and King of Bohemia, god how I detest that man. Since meetings of Emperors tend to go rather poorly, I want everyone at the ready in case war should break out. Oh, and William, you will be coming with me. I am going to be immortalized in epic by one of you Assistant Laureates if it kills me.”
“Of course, your Imperial Majesty. So long as it doesn’t kill me, right?” William smiled nervously.
…
“Pack your bags William.”
two weeks later, at the Imperial Diet of Worms, a name chosen without the slightest thought for the senseless giggling it would inflict on school children in later centuries.
Holy Roman Emperor and King of Bohemia, Jiri I, rose his hand to the assembled crowd. “Greetings to all, and especially to my most beloved underling, Erik, Duke of Pomerania and other assorted Imperial territories. Delighted you could make it Duke Erik.”
Erik seethed. “Forgive my impertinence, Your Imperial Majesty, but my proper title is Emperor Erik I of the Crovan Empire. Those lesser titles vanished when my father restructured the Empire.”
Jiri raised his hand again. “Oh, do not worry Duke Erik. I know the title you Crovans claim to hold. But I also know that your Imperial Lands owe me fealty as the Duchies and Counties they rightly are, not as part of your pretend, and, I might add, disintegrating Empire. Lost Constantinople yet, Duke Erik?” Jiri smiled.
Erik flushed red. “You know good and well that my brother lost the southlands. There is no real option but to let them go. And it is Emperor Erik, you decadent swine.”
Jiri tittered. “Really Duke Erik, such impertinence, why if your rages weren’t so delightfully amusing, I might –“
“That’s it!” Erik exploded in rage. “You have gone too far King Jiri. I am the Crovan Emperor, and I bend my knee to no man.”
“You have abused and sullied the power of the Holy Roman Emperor to further your own agenda. Now Bohemia stretches throughout Europe like some great brown blob, as though a giant pig ate something quite disagreeable.”
“In spite of the fact that Crovans are the largest Imperial Landowners, besides your thieving self, I do not even get the benefits of Imperial Membership, much less a vote!
“Well, let me tell you something, King Jiri,” Erik spat the words, “Emperors never bend their knees to mere Kings, even if they have been chosen as first amongst losers. And we never shall again. Henceforth, all Crovan-held lands are subject first, foremost and only to the Imperial Throne at Viken Castle and should another piece of your Imperial Pie fall into my clutches, you can expect it to leave your, heh, Empire, as well.”
Erik turned and left the room. William was still sitting at the table in shocked silence as he watched Jiri’s face change from shocked bemusement to outright fury. Remembering that he held the cursed post of Assistant Laureate, he fled quickly before any lynchings could begin.
Emperor of the Crovan Empire
In Which An Imperial Diet Gets Slightly Out Of Hand
(3 May 1489)
“With the unfortunate passing of Heinrich by…ahem…suicide, I have been forced to appoint a new Assistant to the Posthumous Poet Laureate. I have chosen the Poet William Frobisher, from our Scottish territories. William, since you will be sitting in on all meetings of the Imperial Council, please introduce yourself.”
“Right. Well. Nice to meet you all. Anyway, I am certainly not one of the great Emperor Full-Dan’s caliber, but I am a poet. And I know it.”
William paused, a nervous half-smile broke over his face, but no one laughed at his joke, so he continued.
“Ahem. Right. Then, I guess I will sit here quietly, but first, a little sampling of my works:
While I was wining, even dining, my dear friend Heinrich was dying.
as he rained axe blows upon his own head.
Geoffrey Chaucer, noted hereafter, hung himself upon a rafter,
to small to face great Full-Dan’s shadow full.
Erik Larsson bore Chaucer’s frustration and demonstrated defenestration,
the mortar of the street is still stained red.
Emperor Full-Dan, by Aslak’s beard, found himself in hind end speared,
his poet’s soul left this world too soon.
So here I am, a lofty poet, but with these violent ends I know it,
I shall not leave this world peacefully.”
William sat down.
“Well that was depressing. Thanks William.”
“I don’t know. I thought it was rather interesting. What do you call that weird rhyme thing you have going on there?” Bard was hoping for better press from the new Assistant to the Laureate.
“Ah! What a discerning ear. It is an internal rhyme scheme of my own devising. I call it the “Full-Dan Couplet,” since the rhyme is hidden within the verse, much as the Poet-King had to hide his authorship of the legendary Viken Tales.”
“Your right about Larsson’s stain you know. I’ve scrubbed and scrubbed the cobblestones and, well, nothing. Frankly, I think the windowsill is haunted. Sometimes, at night, when the wind is blowing, the curtains move and I feel a cold, icy presence in the room.”
Bard regarded Knut with open contempt. “That presence, moving the curtains and making you chilly. Could it be, oh I don’t know, wind?”
Knut looked downcast. “I suppose. But that’s not very exciting now is it?”
“Okay, before this goes any further. Gentlemen, I have been summoned to an Imperial Diet in Worms by the Holy Roman Emperor and King of Bohemia, god how I detest that man. Since meetings of Emperors tend to go rather poorly, I want everyone at the ready in case war should break out. Oh, and William, you will be coming with me. I am going to be immortalized in epic by one of you Assistant Laureates if it kills me.”
“Of course, your Imperial Majesty. So long as it doesn’t kill me, right?” William smiled nervously.
…
“Pack your bags William.”
two weeks later, at the Imperial Diet of Worms, a name chosen without the slightest thought for the senseless giggling it would inflict on school children in later centuries.
Holy Roman Emperor and King of Bohemia, Jiri I, rose his hand to the assembled crowd. “Greetings to all, and especially to my most beloved underling, Erik, Duke of Pomerania and other assorted Imperial territories. Delighted you could make it Duke Erik.”
Erik seethed. “Forgive my impertinence, Your Imperial Majesty, but my proper title is Emperor Erik I of the Crovan Empire. Those lesser titles vanished when my father restructured the Empire.”
Jiri raised his hand again. “Oh, do not worry Duke Erik. I know the title you Crovans claim to hold. But I also know that your Imperial Lands owe me fealty as the Duchies and Counties they rightly are, not as part of your pretend, and, I might add, disintegrating Empire. Lost Constantinople yet, Duke Erik?” Jiri smiled.
Erik flushed red. “You know good and well that my brother lost the southlands. There is no real option but to let them go. And it is Emperor Erik, you decadent swine.”
Jiri tittered. “Really Duke Erik, such impertinence, why if your rages weren’t so delightfully amusing, I might –“
“That’s it!” Erik exploded in rage. “You have gone too far King Jiri. I am the Crovan Emperor, and I bend my knee to no man.”
“You have abused and sullied the power of the Holy Roman Emperor to further your own agenda. Now Bohemia stretches throughout Europe like some great brown blob, as though a giant pig ate something quite disagreeable.”
“In spite of the fact that Crovans are the largest Imperial Landowners, besides your thieving self, I do not even get the benefits of Imperial Membership, much less a vote!
“Well, let me tell you something, King Jiri,” Erik spat the words, “Emperors never bend their knees to mere Kings, even if they have been chosen as first amongst losers. And we never shall again. Henceforth, all Crovan-held lands are subject first, foremost and only to the Imperial Throne at Viken Castle and should another piece of your Imperial Pie fall into my clutches, you can expect it to leave your, heh, Empire, as well.”
Erik turned and left the room. William was still sitting at the table in shocked silence as he watched Jiri’s face change from shocked bemusement to outright fury. Remembering that he held the cursed post of Assistant Laureate, he fled quickly before any lynchings could begin.
Okay, so we didn’t meet Erik’s offspring, but we did get to see him simultaneously destroy the prestige of both the Crovan Empire and Bohemia! And also cut the tax revenues of the HRE. Maybe next time we’ll get to meet Erik’s kid. Find out on the next exciting episode of The Adventures of the Crovan Clan 2: The World Is Way Too Much!
- 1
While I was missing the poo-jokes I found the euh... discussion between the Spyder and the Loser euh... interesting...
Interesting. Very. :rofl:
Shock, amusement, war!
Poetry, the sword of crovania, from which one can not survive with an shield.
Jaul!
Shock, amusement, war!
Poetry, the sword of crovania, from which one can not survive with an shield.
Jaul!
canonized: heh. Glad you liked that one
phargle: may Douglas Adams rest in peace...Shades of Vogons would be a good name for a Rock Band, by the way
Murmurandus: so you found the hidden poo-joke!
Enewald: glad you liked it
And now, in honor of the Server Upgrade: double update day!
phargle: may Douglas Adams rest in peace...Shades of Vogons would be a good name for a Rock Band, by the way
Murmurandus: so you found the hidden poo-joke!
Enewald: glad you liked it
And now, in honor of the Server Upgrade: double update day!