I love this AAR.Dead William said:
It cracks me up without ever having played CK.
A line of true Bastards. An a-historical England AAR
- Thread starter Dead William
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It cracks me up without ever having played CK.
Dead William said:
Heh, heh.....am I the only who got that?
This is just an amazing story... Keep it up William!
(How's Edward and his 21 stewardship doing?)
My Leige, I brought my special lotion, Sire...... Gerald???
What I am too late!.....Well I was in court wasn't I.........She wanted to see it.........indecent I ask you.......well the judge was a friend of mine wasn't he......oh well, where is the new lad Edward and is he just, if you need him proclaimed just I am your man!
Excellent stuff DW, keep it up
What I am too late!.....Well I was in court wasn't I.........She wanted to see it.........indecent I ask you.......well the judge was a friend of mine wasn't he......oh well, where is the new lad Edward and is he just, if you need him proclaimed just I am your man!
Excellent stuff DW, keep it up
We shall mourn gloious King Gerald... Until Edward the Highly-Stated does something! More!
Tsk tsk.. if only Gerald had listened to the advice of his physician, he might have lived much longer and delivered even greater glory to self and House... maybe even become pious enough to be canonized. Ah well, I'll just help myself to some of his "friends" then, after inspecting them for good health.
Awesome updates! I especially liked the following:
Pure gold!
Awesome updates! I especially liked the following:
Pure gold!
A Letter From A Father To His Son
Dear sir Andrew,
I am delighted to inform you that the unfortunate accident, in which the Domes daybook of 1205 was damaged, revealed a letter in the binding. I think it may be one of the greatest discoveries of the last two hundred years of historiography. I think this is the famous “Last Letter of a Father to his Son”, in which Emperor Gerald gave his son the Emperor Edward advice on policy and the future. I enclose a transcription as well as several notes on its authentication.
Yours truly, D. Rexus, Librarian of the Imperial Papers, Palace of Winchester, april 1906
With the discovery of the actual letter of Emperor Gerald the forgery by Dr. Rexus was finally proven. It is certain Dr. Rexus was aware of the actual text, but sought to suppress it, to safeguard the memory of the Glorious Emperor. How and where Dr Rexus gained his forging expertise is unknown. It is apparent the letter was dictated to a scribe.
My dear son,
(Deus, you bonehead, stop spilling ink all over me!)
When you receive this letter, the lord has seen fit to gather me into his arms. Do not be sad, for I will be in the light of His Holiness.
(I am ill and likely to kick the bucket, no luck with the faith healers this time. I am quickly building churches, but Cardinal Cinquanta Penny is already licking his chops and talking about my eternal burning in hellfire. It is not cheering.)
I have heard you have taken lands that rightly belong to the church and the nobles, without reason or recompense. You should reform your ways. Think of the greatness of my father and know that justice flows in our blood. Return to God what belongs to God.
(Now I have heard you have been called arbitrary. My father instituted the General Estates for this purpose. You’ll be Just in no time. Just drop a note to BBBD. And next time you decide to rob widows and orphans, call them the “Undeserving poor”. Or Boleslaw. That usually works.)
Be humble before god! The mother church is our guide and our light in these difficult times, and will be even more so in times of peace and plenty. Visit Holy mass regularly, for the good of your soul!
(Suck up to the priests when you need them, but don’t let them get too high an opinion of themselves. I have always found church to be an excellent place to catch up on my sleep. Keep the pope tightly reined in! There is only one crown in Europe, and it is not the pope’s, no matter how many tiers it may have!)
Do not be afraid to show your failings! All men have failings, and you will be forgiven by your people!
To admit one’s faults and to confess one’s sins in public brings you closer to the Lord.
(Get yourself a good spin doctor and plenty of fall-guys. I suggest droning anyone who comments on your life style. It makes life easier in the end.)
Reward your loyal servants and be generous to the poor. Acknowledge your debts and you will bestride the earth like a giant.
(When the domain gets to big to rule, find some schmuck to rule the poorest part of it. Giving to the poor will increase your reputation, as any good spin-doctor can tell you. And we still haven’t finished those barrels of beet mash your great grand father laid down. And if the King of Minors shows up with some nonsense about me owing him money for Leia and Amidala and a crate of beer, pay him.)
Live a healthy and moderate life and be faithful to your wife.
( I founded a monastery near Westminster of the Learned nuns of Saint Beata of Nymphomania. I think you might like them. They serve good food too. There’s wine and beer in the cold store, and Aquavit from Swedenm which I can recommend. So is Sister Inga, whom I can recommend. Give my regards to your heretic shrew of a wife.)
Know that I love you and you have my blessing!
(I suppose you’re no too much of a disappointment, even though you are a bit of an egghead.)
Your beloved father, Gerald
(Aaaaaaghrrrrrrr!)
Dear sir Andrew,
I am delighted to inform you that the unfortunate accident, in which the Domes daybook of 1205 was damaged, revealed a letter in the binding. I think it may be one of the greatest discoveries of the last two hundred years of historiography. I think this is the famous “Last Letter of a Father to his Son”, in which Emperor Gerald gave his son the Emperor Edward advice on policy and the future. I enclose a transcription as well as several notes on its authentication.
Yours truly, D. Rexus, Librarian of the Imperial Papers, Palace of Winchester, april 1906
With the discovery of the actual letter of Emperor Gerald the forgery by Dr. Rexus was finally proven. It is certain Dr. Rexus was aware of the actual text, but sought to suppress it, to safeguard the memory of the Glorious Emperor. How and where Dr Rexus gained his forging expertise is unknown. It is apparent the letter was dictated to a scribe.
My dear son,
(Deus, you bonehead, stop spilling ink all over me!)
When you receive this letter, the lord has seen fit to gather me into his arms. Do not be sad, for I will be in the light of His Holiness.
(I am ill and likely to kick the bucket, no luck with the faith healers this time. I am quickly building churches, but Cardinal Cinquanta Penny is already licking his chops and talking about my eternal burning in hellfire. It is not cheering.)
I have heard you have taken lands that rightly belong to the church and the nobles, without reason or recompense. You should reform your ways. Think of the greatness of my father and know that justice flows in our blood. Return to God what belongs to God.
(Now I have heard you have been called arbitrary. My father instituted the General Estates for this purpose. You’ll be Just in no time. Just drop a note to BBBD. And next time you decide to rob widows and orphans, call them the “Undeserving poor”. Or Boleslaw. That usually works.)
Be humble before god! The mother church is our guide and our light in these difficult times, and will be even more so in times of peace and plenty. Visit Holy mass regularly, for the good of your soul!
(Suck up to the priests when you need them, but don’t let them get too high an opinion of themselves. I have always found church to be an excellent place to catch up on my sleep. Keep the pope tightly reined in! There is only one crown in Europe, and it is not the pope’s, no matter how many tiers it may have!)
Do not be afraid to show your failings! All men have failings, and you will be forgiven by your people!
To admit one’s faults and to confess one’s sins in public brings you closer to the Lord.
(Get yourself a good spin doctor and plenty of fall-guys. I suggest droning anyone who comments on your life style. It makes life easier in the end.)
Reward your loyal servants and be generous to the poor. Acknowledge your debts and you will bestride the earth like a giant.
(When the domain gets to big to rule, find some schmuck to rule the poorest part of it. Giving to the poor will increase your reputation, as any good spin-doctor can tell you. And we still haven’t finished those barrels of beet mash your great grand father laid down. And if the King of Minors shows up with some nonsense about me owing him money for Leia and Amidala and a crate of beer, pay him.)
Live a healthy and moderate life and be faithful to your wife.
( I founded a monastery near Westminster of the Learned nuns of Saint Beata of Nymphomania. I think you might like them. They serve good food too. There’s wine and beer in the cold store, and Aquavit from Swedenm which I can recommend. So is Sister Inga, whom I can recommend. Give my regards to your heretic shrew of a wife.)
Know that I love you and you have my blessing!
(I suppose you’re no too much of a disappointment, even though you are a bit of an egghead.)
Your beloved father, Gerald
(Aaaaaaghrrrrrrr!)
Well, he had to go at some point. He should have taken my advice. A spoonful of manure a day, keeps the doctors at bay!
Ink!? I wrote the letter with tears, sweat and blood. So NO INK! Read my lips. :rofl:
Nice letter, by the way. I just loved the signature at the end. AAAARRRGHHHHH.
Nice letter, by the way. I just loved the signature at the end. AAAARRRGHHHHH.
Wonderful! :rofl: Poor Gerald, but at least he has repose at last for his soul - oh, and his itch, of course!
:rofl:
Ah, I am in the AAR, a very good implementation, very nice. So, Dead William, do you want HvK's soul all at once, or in payments?
Ah, I am in the AAR, a very good implementation, very nice. So, Dead William, do you want HvK's soul all at once, or in payments?
aww, no new AaM showings.
Really, what's left for a messenger when a King owns all there is?
Really, what's left for a messenger when a King owns all there is?
Avernite, maybe a postal service? If any of us are lucky we can keep our TORSOs. I believe despite the stats Edward is made from the same wood than the other Bastard family members.
Feedback to Feedback and status report
Karl Martell: Welcome! Glad you like it! I can recommend CK, if you want to ruin your social life and like permanently bloodshot eyes... It's addictive..
Deus: Thanks! Yadda!
Sleepy Irv: Irving the Somnolent returns! Drat anotherone to write in.. Edward is doing remarkably badly...
BBBD:Special lotion? Probably contains nettles and pepper for those open wounds... We'll get to the proclamations of justness... See you in court, but not too much of you if you please...
Deflare:Greetings! yeah, I'll miss Jerry. He was fun. But Edward shows promise!
Jestor: He might, but at the rate those miracle workers show up... And I don't think there is a Your doctor healed you event... so...
Mike von Bek: A spoonful of manure will keep the doctor away. And the dentist, too. Not to mention the wife... 1 desert spoon after dinner, do not brush teeth...
Deflare 2nd: Yes, I would prefer a doctor too. As long as it wasn't Jestor...
Deus 2nd: That would explain the lousy penmanship. Anyways, you were recalled from Faroeur and given a promotion, so things are looking up...
King of Minors: Hmmm, I like the idea of both of us owning 5/12ths of Henry V. Keiper's soul... Glad you like the appearance. At least one other coming up...
Avernite: Yeah, it's gettign difficult to work in my cast of thousands... I shall do my best. Messages from vassals.. that's all I say.
Deus 3rd:What, you again? Postal service? Going postal is he? Ehem, sorry. Is Edward a chip of the old block? We will see, we will see indeed...
Status: Well, I am playing again, from 1197, the death of Gerald, and have now hit 1204 or something, but the going is slow... I have had little time to play this weekend, nor will I the coming week. I hope to make an update this week, but I am not certain if I will make it... Sorry
Edit: I posted an Interlude, which is slightly different in tone. it has no actual game content.
Karl Martell: Welcome! Glad you like it! I can recommend CK, if you want to ruin your social life and like permanently bloodshot eyes... It's addictive..
Deus: Thanks! Yadda!
Sleepy Irv: Irving the Somnolent returns! Drat anotherone to write in.. Edward is doing remarkably badly...
BBBD:Special lotion? Probably contains nettles and pepper for those open wounds... We'll get to the proclamations of justness... See you in court, but not too much of you if you please...
Deflare:Greetings! yeah, I'll miss Jerry. He was fun. But Edward shows promise!
Jestor: He might, but at the rate those miracle workers show up... And I don't think there is a Your doctor healed you event... so...
Mike von Bek: A spoonful of manure will keep the doctor away. And the dentist, too. Not to mention the wife... 1 desert spoon after dinner, do not brush teeth...
Deflare 2nd: Yes, I would prefer a doctor too. As long as it wasn't Jestor...
Deus 2nd: That would explain the lousy penmanship. Anyways, you were recalled from Faroeur and given a promotion, so things are looking up...
King of Minors: Hmmm, I like the idea of both of us owning 5/12ths of Henry V. Keiper's soul... Glad you like the appearance. At least one other coming up...
Avernite: Yeah, it's gettign difficult to work in my cast of thousands... I shall do my best. Messages from vassals.. that's all I say.
Deus 3rd:What, you again? Postal service? Going postal is he? Ehem, sorry. Is Edward a chip of the old block? We will see, we will see indeed...
Status: Well, I am playing again, from 1197, the death of Gerald, and have now hit 1204 or something, but the going is slow... I have had little time to play this weekend, nor will I the coming week. I hope to make an update this week, but I am not certain if I will make it... Sorry
Edit: I posted an Interlude, which is slightly different in tone. it has no actual game content.
Last edited:
Interlude
The great bells of the Cathedral of Westminster rang. Twenty-five bells, one for each of the kingdoms ruled by the great king Gerald the Glorious. It was the 21st of december 1197. It was the day of the funeral of one of the greatest kings England, or the world, had ever seen. The huge cafalque was carried down the street on a might wagon, drawn by 40 white wlaks. It was preceded by hundreds of bishops and archbishops, mitred abbots and thousands of priests. In front walked the Papal Legate, Cardinal Archbishop Penny Cinquanta, with his new secretary, Archdeacon Deus.
Behind the great coffin marched the nobles of the realm. Archdukes and dukes, marquises, counts, earls, viscounts, barons, baronets and a few selected knights. The great servants of the realm, the Lord Chancelor, the Earl Marshal, the Bishop of the court, the Lord High Steward, walked behind them. Many of King Gerald’s faithful servants and adherents walked, or shuffled, or were carried. Even the great cathedral could no hold so many. And at the rear, mounted on Belisarius, his great horse, road the Double Emperor, Edward de Normandie, of the House of the Conqueror, and brooded over the future…
The clearing shone dappled in the sun. The falling snowflakes were bright and crisp in the wintry light. The small grey and white chapel was stark and simple, a thick walled structure. It was no match for the great, vaulted cathedrals of Essex and Byzantion, the Hagia Sofia and the Cathedral of St. Paul. Yet it had grandeur and dignity far beyond it’s small size, a grandeur of age and of duty done. The man satnding in front was well but simply dressed. It was difficult to recognize in him the great ruling monarch of the Double Empire. He walked into the cool nave, up to the high altar. A grave had been opened. A coffin sat next to it. The peasants of the manor of Falaise were waiting, well dressed at the expense of the treasury. Edward walked forward and laid a hand on the coffin. He remembered. Riding piggy back, playing tournament. He remembered the first sword and the pride on his father’s face when he had slain the great boar of Long Wood. The anger, the fear, when he had ridden so recklessly through the forest, endangering his life. The fear a better deterrent than ever the short lived anger was. He remembered. The sorrow at the death of his mother, the sorrow that had never been truly overcome, despite two more marriages and numerous mistresses.
He remembered, with a smile, the conversations with his father’s favourites of fifty years. Despite his reputation, Gerald had never been attracted solely by physical beauty. He remembered. The good and the bad, the foolish decisions and the wise. The Emperor Gerald was dead, but so was Gerald the father. And Edward would miss Gerald the father far more than Gerald the Emperor. Far more than he had expected.
At a gesture the peasants lifted the coffin, lowered it painfully into the crypt. The lead-lined oaken case had been constructed at the royal shipyards, crafted by the capable if gnarled and rheumatic hands of his father’s Royal Shipwright, Van de Kinderen the Elder. The toothless old man had followed his emperor to the grave, placed in the small fishing boat he had built to take Gerald out on the the Thames for fishing, then covered in the good Flemish earth of Bruges.
The coffin hit the bottom of the crypt with a thump. It reminded Edward of the finality of life and time, and the greatness of God. It reminded him of decisions taken. His father’s council and circle of confidants ahd been replaced by Edward with men more of his own age, though close proximity since youth meant that most were the sons or daughters of Gerald’s officers. The elders had mostly been happy to retire. The coffin was pushed with some effort into an empty niche. Two other coffins stood there already. Edward looked at the coffin, remembered..
The mortar was spread on the edges of the crypt, where the old mortar, placed there at his granfather’s death, had been chiseled away. Edward considered the fortunes of war and birth. He minded the claimant to the throne, the one called Rex Angliae, who had lived easily until the day of his death in a manor house in Sussex, where he had written a fine history of the Norman Empire, supplied with all his desires, except the one to procreate. The family was too great to allow the bastards to lay claim, even if they were bastards of the Conqueror…
The great white slab was placed, carefully, on the mortar. The carved letters that spelled Herleve de Falaise were dusty, but the gold leaf the Conqueror had had placed there was still visible. The Emperor Edward looked at the stone and remembered the boy Edward, on his father’s shoulders, chasing butterflies. He remembered and smiled….
The great bells of the Cathedral of Westminster rang. Twenty-five bells, one for each of the kingdoms ruled by the great king Gerald the Glorious. It was the 21st of december 1197. It was the day of the funeral of one of the greatest kings England, or the world, had ever seen. The huge cafalque was carried down the street on a might wagon, drawn by 40 white wlaks. It was preceded by hundreds of bishops and archbishops, mitred abbots and thousands of priests. In front walked the Papal Legate, Cardinal Archbishop Penny Cinquanta, with his new secretary, Archdeacon Deus.
Behind the great coffin marched the nobles of the realm. Archdukes and dukes, marquises, counts, earls, viscounts, barons, baronets and a few selected knights. The great servants of the realm, the Lord Chancelor, the Earl Marshal, the Bishop of the court, the Lord High Steward, walked behind them. Many of King Gerald’s faithful servants and adherents walked, or shuffled, or were carried. Even the great cathedral could no hold so many. And at the rear, mounted on Belisarius, his great horse, road the Double Emperor, Edward de Normandie, of the House of the Conqueror, and brooded over the future…
The clearing shone dappled in the sun. The falling snowflakes were bright and crisp in the wintry light. The small grey and white chapel was stark and simple, a thick walled structure. It was no match for the great, vaulted cathedrals of Essex and Byzantion, the Hagia Sofia and the Cathedral of St. Paul. Yet it had grandeur and dignity far beyond it’s small size, a grandeur of age and of duty done. The man satnding in front was well but simply dressed. It was difficult to recognize in him the great ruling monarch of the Double Empire. He walked into the cool nave, up to the high altar. A grave had been opened. A coffin sat next to it. The peasants of the manor of Falaise were waiting, well dressed at the expense of the treasury. Edward walked forward and laid a hand on the coffin. He remembered. Riding piggy back, playing tournament. He remembered the first sword and the pride on his father’s face when he had slain the great boar of Long Wood. The anger, the fear, when he had ridden so recklessly through the forest, endangering his life. The fear a better deterrent than ever the short lived anger was. He remembered. The sorrow at the death of his mother, the sorrow that had never been truly overcome, despite two more marriages and numerous mistresses.
He remembered, with a smile, the conversations with his father’s favourites of fifty years. Despite his reputation, Gerald had never been attracted solely by physical beauty. He remembered. The good and the bad, the foolish decisions and the wise. The Emperor Gerald was dead, but so was Gerald the father. And Edward would miss Gerald the father far more than Gerald the Emperor. Far more than he had expected.
At a gesture the peasants lifted the coffin, lowered it painfully into the crypt. The lead-lined oaken case had been constructed at the royal shipyards, crafted by the capable if gnarled and rheumatic hands of his father’s Royal Shipwright, Van de Kinderen the Elder. The toothless old man had followed his emperor to the grave, placed in the small fishing boat he had built to take Gerald out on the the Thames for fishing, then covered in the good Flemish earth of Bruges.
The coffin hit the bottom of the crypt with a thump. It reminded Edward of the finality of life and time, and the greatness of God. It reminded him of decisions taken. His father’s council and circle of confidants ahd been replaced by Edward with men more of his own age, though close proximity since youth meant that most were the sons or daughters of Gerald’s officers. The elders had mostly been happy to retire. The coffin was pushed with some effort into an empty niche. Two other coffins stood there already. Edward looked at the coffin, remembered..
The mortar was spread on the edges of the crypt, where the old mortar, placed there at his granfather’s death, had been chiseled away. Edward considered the fortunes of war and birth. He minded the claimant to the throne, the one called Rex Angliae, who had lived easily until the day of his death in a manor house in Sussex, where he had written a fine history of the Norman Empire, supplied with all his desires, except the one to procreate. The family was too great to allow the bastards to lay claim, even if they were bastards of the Conqueror…
The great white slab was placed, carefully, on the mortar. The carved letters that spelled Herleve de Falaise were dusty, but the gold leaf the Conqueror had had placed there was still visible. The Emperor Edward looked at the stone and remembered the boy Edward, on his father’s shoulders, chasing butterflies. He remembered and smiled….
Ooh, that was indeed a different tone, but still very good.
The first payment of Henry V. Keiper's soul consisting of 5/12ths is ready to be collected and added to Dead William's signature at any time he pleases. Although he should remember, in accordance with Anonumous4401's rules (the first owner of the soul) to link to the post(s) where the soul has changed hands.
The second payment will be ready once the second appearence is writen and posted.
Good luck with your 5/12ths of a soul.
The first payment of Henry V. Keiper's soul consisting of 5/12ths is ready to be collected and added to Dead William's signature at any time he pleases. Although he should remember, in accordance with Anonumous4401's rules (the first owner of the soul) to link to the post(s) where the soul has changed hands.
The second payment will be ready once the second appearence is writen and posted.
Good luck with your 5/12ths of a soul.
nice update, a heavy burden lies on the shoulders of the new king, may his reign be fruitfull...and filled with pretty wenches
You don't mean my castle the great castle ARRGGGH!, lovely spot, current tennants a group of very rude and strange french knights
HI,
Just read all this from the start and am stunned by the quality (that's a good thing). This is by way of encouragement to keep going!
N.
Just read all this from the start and am stunned by the quality (that's a good thing). This is by way of encouragement to keep going!
N.