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What exactly would it look like for the maidservants to dust the chandeliers? I can't seem to picture that very well...
Imagine girls with skimpy skirts stretching to reach a chandelier... those skirts get pulled up even more!
Not to mention them needing to climb some laders, so now their minis are on your nose level.
What would Olaf do? A classic!
That sounds like a saint who knows his way around town!
The Christ Reborn knew how to party.
Ok, I propose w refocus this AAR to maidservants only...
try Mega Death's EUII AARs...that's where I got the ideaYes!
Hah, Asta's snap "You're damn right you get the jobs" was worthy of her father, you pandering writer, you.
Thanks, I try...sometimes
"don't do as I do, or you go to hell":rofl:
This just keeps getting better and better, like some kind of perpetual humor machine.
Awesome...hopefully this upcoming one isn't a downer then!
You are one update machine, Packer! And you deliver quality. Especially Bard's belated realization that he was had had me laughing out loud.
So - Asta is trying to get her nephews to join holy orders? Or what?
Ah...someone didn't follow the link-hints when Asta and the Playwright discussed the book...
No, she far nastier than that
It's like Holy Water...only with potatoes and mead
Yeah she isI think this has been addressed by 4D and Safferli
1515: Watch out...he gets wordy in this one.
Wow, so Hakon has perished. And not too gloriously. Asta’s plan is in high gear, can the Imperial Twins turn sleuth and save themselves, or are they just screwed? Find out on the next exciting episode of The Adventures of the Crovan Clan 2: The World Is Way Too Much!
Hakon III Eriksson Crovan
Emperor of the Crovan Empire, Pontifix Maximus, The Shield of Olaf
In Which Aslak Shows Initiative
(21 April 1515 – 11 November 1515)
In Central Germany, late one night, two women are sitting by a campfire. Guards and spies move about the camp and through the surrounding woods, always vigilant. And with good reason. Passing through Bohemia is always a difficult task for subjects of the Crovan Emperor. This task is even more difficult under the current circumstances, for the Bohemian King has gone to war with Great Lithuania in the War of Athenian Succession, so strangers are very suspect. Even more suspect when the strangers are the Princess and Notorious Spymistress Asta Crovan and a young Hanovarian woman, a Princess in her own right.
If Asta was nervous or scared, sleeping in the woods and surrounded by such a small entourage, it did not show. She exuded a sense of, almost boredom, languidly poking a small stick about in the raging campfire. “So Dagmar,” her lips curled in a smile, “are you excited to meet your groom?”
Unlike the older woman, Dagmar was terrified. It was dark. The smoke kept getting into her eyes, making them burn and water. The sounds of armored men moving about kept her constantly jumping and constantly reminded of the very real danger they were in. Not to mention the fact that she, the pampered youngest daughter of a very urbane and cultured court, had basically been sold for protection to a prince living in a frozen, barbaric ice land far, far away. Ordinary people crossed themselves in Continental Europe whenever the Crovan Empire came up in conversation. The accursed family sitting on the Viken Throne had for centuries wrought such chaos, terror and destruction the length and breadth of the land. Mothers frequently admonished their children with ‘behave child, or King Crovan shall come take you in the night.’ It was usually left to the child’s imagination to wonder if King Crovan would work him to death in the fields, in the mines or in the slave galleys. The contraction of the Crovan Empire was viewed in the Holy Roman Empire as proof of a loving and forgiving God. And that was where this poor child had been sent, to live out her days in a frozen and run down palace called Viken, site of violent deaths and mass murders uncountable. To attend church in a great Cathedral, cursed and haunted by the Crovan family’s most revered saint. To sit across a fire and make ‘small-talk’ with a woman feared by all and rumoured to have sired the Devil’s own son.
“I…I am a little afraid.” There didn’t seem much point in trying to lie about things.
Asta nodded sagaciously, pretending to misunderstand the cause of her fear. “Do not worry, young madame, I have it on very good authority that the unknown acts brides perform on their wedding nights, well…let us just say, your groom will have little interest in that area.”
Dagmar blushed scarlet and a small, nervous smile danced across her face. “Oh it isn’t that, Your Highness, I am just, well, I’ve never been outside the Empire before, what is it like in Viken, I mean for real”
Asta smiled. She’d decided not to break the girl just yet. After all, the night was still young. “Oh the palace is quite beautiful. My father spent a vast fortune on the renovations and reconstruction. The old castle still stands, of course, but most of the family and court’s private rooms are in the newer, modern wings of the palace, certainly the Imperial Ballroom is there, I had my coming out party there you know, and it is regarded, and rightly, as the largest and most beautiful in the world. As Empress, you will, of course, have at your disposal a staff of hundreds of ladies from courts all over the world and even from Crovania’s finest noble families. Their sole purpose in life will be to keep you happy, be your friends, and make certain you are never lonely again.”
Dagmar considered this. She was, after all, just now a woman and the idea of presiding over massive and sumptuous parties was dazzling. “That sounds wonderful, I always loved father’s parties and I despaired of having such delightful times again. Perhaps I can throw a ball when he comes to visit?”
“Of course you can dear, why throwing fancy parties and moving about in the finest circles in Europe do have their benefits.” Here Asta smiled, “as children, they may be taught to fear ‘King Crovan,’ but as adults, the finest artists in the world flock to Viken Castle and we patronize them liberally. You won’t be losing any of the high culture you’ve grown up with Dagmar, on the contrary, you will have an army of artists, sculptors, writers, and above all, poets, to help you design the greatest parties and balls the world has ever seen. And I am certain Dan will be more than generous with the ducats such festivals will need.”
Visions of masked balls, the current craze of high society, danced through Dagmar’s head. She could not wait to see this massive ballroom, and the idea of having the finest musicians, artists and poets at her disposal, to make her visions come true, well now that was…her reverie was interrupted and she frowned slightly, “Gunnar, you mean Princess.” She looked up, somewhat uncertain.
Asta affected a look of surprise. “Oh, did say Dan? Of course I meant Gunnar. For now.”
Now Dagmar was scared again. “What do you mean by that?”
Asta patted the girl’s thigh. “Don’t worry yourself dear. I guess I was just preoccupied with events back in Viken.” She sighed, “I do so hate to be away right now, I should really have liked to see the look on Hakon’s face. But then,” she shrugged, “I would have been a suspect, so instead, I am here getting to know my future daughter.” Asta leaned in and winked, “and she is a delightful girl, I must say.”
Dagmar swallowed hard and peed herself, but just a little bit. “Thank you, Princess. If I may be so bold to ask, what were you doing to Hakon?” Dagmar was terrified, her body was shaking. She knew, somewhere deep inside, that this was a test and failure, well, it would be doubtful her body would every be found.
“Oh him? I’m having a trusty agent of mine kill him, but the timing must be right. I do hope Aslak hasn’t screwed up the timing.” Asta chewed on her thumbnail.
Meanwhile, back at Viken Castle
Aslak regarded the still and broken body of the Emperor at the base of the tower. From this height, he mused, the corpse looked something like a marionette, cast aside after the show. “Well shit. I screwed up the timing.” The old mercenary was good at improvising, however, and he soon had a plan to fix things.
“The timing? What timing?” Alojz wished the twins would stop their incessant screaming. Even way up here, their anguished cries blotted out almost all other sounds.
Aslak continued to peer over the edge, “well, as you know, Hakon was going to blame your book for his idiot sons’ self-mutilation…”
“Of course, Aslak, I am aware of the plan, but so far as I can tell, you saved my life,” Alojz broke into a wide smile, “I’d call that perfect timing!”
“Well for you it is. I was supposed to wait until he hacked you to death before tossing him off the side, you know some sort of killing himself out of guilt kind of thing.” Aslak rose up and sighed, regarding the playwright with a discerning eye. “You’re what? 130 pounds giver or take?”
Alojz’s eyes went wide, “wait, please don’t…wait? What does my weight have to do with anything?”
Aslak manhandled the playwright, lifting him over his head before hurling him over the parapet. He watched the body descend, crashing to the ground just past Hakon’s broken remains. “If your body landed on top of the Emperor’s, well, no one would believe my note.” Aslak turned and walked down the stairs, the screams of the twins caused his hand to involuntarily pass over his crotch and he winced, slightly, before continuing.
Emperor of the Crovan Empire, Pontifix Maximus, The Shield of Olaf
In Which Aslak Shows Initiative
(21 April 1515 – 11 November 1515)
In Central Germany, late one night, two women are sitting by a campfire. Guards and spies move about the camp and through the surrounding woods, always vigilant. And with good reason. Passing through Bohemia is always a difficult task for subjects of the Crovan Emperor. This task is even more difficult under the current circumstances, for the Bohemian King has gone to war with Great Lithuania in the War of Athenian Succession, so strangers are very suspect. Even more suspect when the strangers are the Princess and Notorious Spymistress Asta Crovan and a young Hanovarian woman, a Princess in her own right.
If Asta was nervous or scared, sleeping in the woods and surrounded by such a small entourage, it did not show. She exuded a sense of, almost boredom, languidly poking a small stick about in the raging campfire. “So Dagmar,” her lips curled in a smile, “are you excited to meet your groom?”
Unlike the older woman, Dagmar was terrified. It was dark. The smoke kept getting into her eyes, making them burn and water. The sounds of armored men moving about kept her constantly jumping and constantly reminded of the very real danger they were in. Not to mention the fact that she, the pampered youngest daughter of a very urbane and cultured court, had basically been sold for protection to a prince living in a frozen, barbaric ice land far, far away. Ordinary people crossed themselves in Continental Europe whenever the Crovan Empire came up in conversation. The accursed family sitting on the Viken Throne had for centuries wrought such chaos, terror and destruction the length and breadth of the land. Mothers frequently admonished their children with ‘behave child, or King Crovan shall come take you in the night.’ It was usually left to the child’s imagination to wonder if King Crovan would work him to death in the fields, in the mines or in the slave galleys. The contraction of the Crovan Empire was viewed in the Holy Roman Empire as proof of a loving and forgiving God. And that was where this poor child had been sent, to live out her days in a frozen and run down palace called Viken, site of violent deaths and mass murders uncountable. To attend church in a great Cathedral, cursed and haunted by the Crovan family’s most revered saint. To sit across a fire and make ‘small-talk’ with a woman feared by all and rumoured to have sired the Devil’s own son.
“I…I am a little afraid.” There didn’t seem much point in trying to lie about things.
Asta nodded sagaciously, pretending to misunderstand the cause of her fear. “Do not worry, young madame, I have it on very good authority that the unknown acts brides perform on their wedding nights, well…let us just say, your groom will have little interest in that area.”
Dagmar blushed scarlet and a small, nervous smile danced across her face. “Oh it isn’t that, Your Highness, I am just, well, I’ve never been outside the Empire before, what is it like in Viken, I mean for real”
Asta smiled. She’d decided not to break the girl just yet. After all, the night was still young. “Oh the palace is quite beautiful. My father spent a vast fortune on the renovations and reconstruction. The old castle still stands, of course, but most of the family and court’s private rooms are in the newer, modern wings of the palace, certainly the Imperial Ballroom is there, I had my coming out party there you know, and it is regarded, and rightly, as the largest and most beautiful in the world. As Empress, you will, of course, have at your disposal a staff of hundreds of ladies from courts all over the world and even from Crovania’s finest noble families. Their sole purpose in life will be to keep you happy, be your friends, and make certain you are never lonely again.”
Dagmar considered this. She was, after all, just now a woman and the idea of presiding over massive and sumptuous parties was dazzling. “That sounds wonderful, I always loved father’s parties and I despaired of having such delightful times again. Perhaps I can throw a ball when he comes to visit?”
“Of course you can dear, why throwing fancy parties and moving about in the finest circles in Europe do have their benefits.” Here Asta smiled, “as children, they may be taught to fear ‘King Crovan,’ but as adults, the finest artists in the world flock to Viken Castle and we patronize them liberally. You won’t be losing any of the high culture you’ve grown up with Dagmar, on the contrary, you will have an army of artists, sculptors, writers, and above all, poets, to help you design the greatest parties and balls the world has ever seen. And I am certain Dan will be more than generous with the ducats such festivals will need.”
Visions of masked balls, the current craze of high society, danced through Dagmar’s head. She could not wait to see this massive ballroom, and the idea of having the finest musicians, artists and poets at her disposal, to make her visions come true, well now that was…her reverie was interrupted and she frowned slightly, “Gunnar, you mean Princess.” She looked up, somewhat uncertain.
Asta affected a look of surprise. “Oh, did say Dan? Of course I meant Gunnar. For now.”
Now Dagmar was scared again. “What do you mean by that?”
Asta patted the girl’s thigh. “Don’t worry yourself dear. I guess I was just preoccupied with events back in Viken.” She sighed, “I do so hate to be away right now, I should really have liked to see the look on Hakon’s face. But then,” she shrugged, “I would have been a suspect, so instead, I am here getting to know my future daughter.” Asta leaned in and winked, “and she is a delightful girl, I must say.”
Dagmar swallowed hard and peed herself, but just a little bit. “Thank you, Princess. If I may be so bold to ask, what were you doing to Hakon?” Dagmar was terrified, her body was shaking. She knew, somewhere deep inside, that this was a test and failure, well, it would be doubtful her body would every be found.
“Oh him? I’m having a trusty agent of mine kill him, but the timing must be right. I do hope Aslak hasn’t screwed up the timing.” Asta chewed on her thumbnail.
Meanwhile, back at Viken Castle
Aslak regarded the still and broken body of the Emperor at the base of the tower. From this height, he mused, the corpse looked something like a marionette, cast aside after the show. “Well shit. I screwed up the timing.” The old mercenary was good at improvising, however, and he soon had a plan to fix things.
“The timing? What timing?” Alojz wished the twins would stop their incessant screaming. Even way up here, their anguished cries blotted out almost all other sounds.
Aslak continued to peer over the edge, “well, as you know, Hakon was going to blame your book for his idiot sons’ self-mutilation…”
“Of course, Aslak, I am aware of the plan, but so far as I can tell, you saved my life,” Alojz broke into a wide smile, “I’d call that perfect timing!”
“Well for you it is. I was supposed to wait until he hacked you to death before tossing him off the side, you know some sort of killing himself out of guilt kind of thing.” Aslak rose up and sighed, regarding the playwright with a discerning eye. “You’re what? 130 pounds giver or take?”
Alojz’s eyes went wide, “wait, please don’t…wait? What does my weight have to do with anything?”
Aslak manhandled the playwright, lifting him over his head before hurling him over the parapet. He watched the body descend, crashing to the ground just past Hakon’s broken remains. “If your body landed on top of the Emperor’s, well, no one would believe my note.” Aslak turned and walked down the stairs, the screams of the twins caused his hand to involuntarily pass over his crotch and he winced, slightly, before continuing.
Wow, so Hakon has perished. And not too gloriously. Asta’s plan is in high gear, can the Imperial Twins turn sleuth and save themselves, or are they just screwed? Find out on the next exciting episode of The Adventures of the Crovan Clan 2: The World Is Way Too Much!
- 1
OMG, this aar keeps better update by update!!! :rofl::rofl::rofl::rofl::rofl::rofl::rofl::rofl::rofl::rofl::rofl::rofl::rofl:
What ... a ... plan!
Ando for having deemed your links a mistake of yours while coding the chapter. Thats right, o!
By the way, I just loved your description of how the Crovans are viewed in the rest of Europe.
And
o for having deemed your links a mistake of yours while coding the chapter. Thats right, o!By the way, I just loved your description of how the Crovans are viewed in the rest of Europe.
that... wow... just... I guess I saw most of that coming, but the execution was genius. Also, "Holy Crap" indeed
You saw the cutting-off-of-the-jibblies coming? I mean, there was some cool build-up, but I just . . . . "Hey, I bet they're gonna be driven to hack off their whatsits", hehe. You rule, even if that was excluded from your "most". ;-)
I new the poet wasn't going to survive Asta's plans!
I pity whoever is appointed next.
I pity whoever is appointed next.
ACTION! ADVENTURE! CHAOS! DEATH!
All will be contained in the final updates to the Adventures of the Crovan Clan!
Join us as the Crovans are finally, and justly, wiped from the face of the Earth!
The Countdown to 1566 and Armageddon has begun...coming, January 19, 2008
(Yes, this means I was defeated in game, which really sucks, but what can you do?)
All will be contained in the final updates to the Adventures of the Crovan Clan!
Join us as the Crovans are finally, and justly, wiped from the face of the Earth!
The Countdown to 1566 and Armageddon has begun...coming, January 19, 2008
(Yes, this means I was defeated in game, which really sucks, but what can you do?)
