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Farquharson Yup, Robert's off the hook. For now :p Anyway, I was updating again when the server zonked out again, so I will do that tomorrow it being late now and a work day tomorrow. If the server doesn't zonk out, there should be an update tomorrow evening. Now I need to rustle up some (non-lurking) readers. :D

edit: Apparently I wasn't kicked out. Update follows!
 
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And so the wait began.

1100

Guy the King: Anything happen yet?

Robert de Mowbray: No

1101, januari 6th

GtK: Anything happen yet?

Robert de Mowbray: Yes

GtK: Really? What gives?

RdM: Your brother Robert thinks you are ruling justly under Feudal law. He has been spreading tales of your greatness and people now perceive you as Just.


GtK: Well, that’s pretty good. What does he want in return?
RdM: Nothing.

GtK: Oh, dear. Is he ill?

1101, februari 7th

GtK: Anything happen yet?

RdM: No

1101, march 4th

GtK: Anything happen yet?

RdM: Yes, Robert really, really thinks you’re a great Guy. You’re Just again.

GtK: And Europe?

RdM: No

1101, august 9th

GtK: I just got this letter from Robert proclaiming how Just I am….

RdM: Yup. Third one this month.

GtK: Is he insane?

RdM: Nope, just he same old, same old.

GtK: And Europe?

RdM: Nothing, zilch, nada, niente, rien, niets, nichts.

GtK: Brilliant plan this.


1101 december 11th

GtK: Anything happen yet?

RdM: You have been decla….

GtK: Besides my Brother declaring that I am just three times these past six months

RdM: Five times, actually. Nope

GtK: Sigh.

1102, february 17th

GtK: Anything Happen yet?

RdM: Nope.

GtK: Oh, by the way, did you hear? My four year old half-brother wrestled a great boar in the woods.

RdM: Dear me. Was he badly mauled?

GtK: Nope. He wrestled the beast home after beating its brains in. Frightening kid. Really nothing?

RdM: Really nothing.

GtK: I’ll go build some more churches then. And breed some more kids.

December 1102: Anything happen yet?

RdM: No!

GtK: Is anything going to happen?

RdM: No, I mean yes, look I’ll tell you when things get going, ok?

GtK: All right. No need to bite my head off!

Then the Duke of Steiermark, age 13 and 3/4 sends a message to King Guy

Dear Mr King Guy of England,

My name is Wilhelm von Chiemgau and I am the Duke of Steiermark.
I am a vassal of the King of Germany, but he is a many and God hates him and he has no hair and mommy says he is a nasty man because he would not marry her and if I declare war on him in a few years will you help me fight him?

Yours truly, Willy von Chiemgau, Duke of Steiermark, Steiermark, Germany, Europe, the World, the Milky Way the Universe, aged 13 ¾.

Since the only object of the alliance was to be able to declare war without suffering too badly in the eyes of the world, the proposal to alliance was hastily accepted.


The strategy paid of as Steiermark declared independence and war on the 18th of December 1103.

GtK: About frigging time, too!

The war began with king Guy shipping himself and his army to the Baltic sea, there to conquer the provinces of Slupsk and Danzig. He also mobilized the armies of the Duke of Normandie and send him out to conquer the province of Saintonge in France, another personal possession of the King of Germany.


germany11045xc.jpg


The German demesne

GtK: Robert?

RdM: Yes, my liege?

GtK: Who are these masses of unwashed who are watching the siege of Danzig?

RdM: The local population?

GtK: No, the ones over there, on the other side of that weird red line.

RdM: Ah, that would be the Tribe of Prussia.

GtK: And their function in the grand scheme of things is?

RdM: To shout in loud and annoying voices and worship pagan gods, my liege.

GtK: Hmmm. Two provinces, no allies. My four and a half thousand strong army on the border. Robert, I think we’re going to make a detour before we head for Würtemberg.

The battles against the Prussians went well, the main problem being the unfortunate habit of Guy’s men to die of cold and starvation in the inhospitable Prussian countryside. In the meantime Heinrich von Franken made peace with a number of his former vassals, thereby clearing the ground for Guy to really beat him up.


secondbattleagainsprussia9ry.jpg


The battles went well...

Würtemberg fell. Heinrich von Franken was led captive before King Guy on January 15th 1105.

Guy the King: Ah, Heinrich. I think I’d like the title of King of Germany.

Heinrich, also the King: OK.

GtK: What? No complaints, no wailing or gnashing of teeth.

HatK: Nope. I’ve only got two vassals left under that title and they hate my guts. Your welcome to the bloody thing. Bye now.

GtK: Umm. Bye.

The master plan to grasp the other two crowns regrettably failed as the duke of Österreich conquered Heinrich’s demesne provinces. Heinrich distrained his loyal vassal, the count of Valais and settled down to rule from there. Matteo Sforza, duke of Milan then conquered Valais and crowned himself King of Burgundy. All this before Guy’s armies had gotten home. The good news was that because Guy had been so restrained in taking control of the titles he had a right to, he was exceedingly well liked. And so all the vassals who had abandoned Heinrich von Franken flocked to Guy’s banner.

A choir of Dukes:

HAIL GUY DE NORMANDIE, KING OF ENGLAND AND GERMANY!!!! LONG MAY HE REIGN AND GLORIOUS HE BE!!!!!

GtK: Bloody hell. Did you practice that for a while or what?

A choir of Dukes: It gave us something to do on the journey from home to London.

GtK: And that corny line was the best you lot could come up with? Oh dear…

republicoffranconiavassal5yy.jpg

krainvassal0fq.jpg

krntenvassal6ow.jpg

bavariavassal8fa.jpg

austriavassal7zj.jpg


A choir of Dukes

In the meantime the Kingdom of France was likewise disintegrating nicely.

GtK: Robert?

RdM: Don’t you have a chancellor or something? The one who is also your wife?

GtK: Yeah, but she’s pregnant again. Any luck with alliances in France?

RdM: As a matter of fact the Duke of Champagne has just asked to become our ally.

GtK: Isn’t that nice.

Enter a page:

Farquharson, a Page: Hoots, Sassenachs!

GtK: Didn’t I fire you?

Fap: Naeboody else woll work far ya, ya Sassenach!

GtK: Great. Just great. Very well then, what’s the news?

Fap: Yon idjits o’er in Essex hae diskoovered the great art o’ roadbuilding. It took them some time, ye ken.

GtK: I’ll say

Fap: Alsoo they found oot aboo’Chronicle writing. Another Greet Art a’ which we Scott hae known a for many centoories. Just amazing the slowth of ye Sassenachs.

GtK: Uhuh. Just for the record here; what is a Sassenach?


Fap: Och, hoots mon, fancy you being a Sassenach and ye not a knowing what you are!

GtK: Yes. Quite. A Sassenach being?

Fap: A saxon a’ course

GtK: Ah. Robert!

RdM: Yes, my liege?

GtK: My father was born a?

RdM: A bastard, my lord.

GtK: True. But he was of Norman stock, yes?

RdM: Well, his father was of Norman stock. Your grandmother of course was a peasant wench who caught….


GtK: Yes! Thank you! And my mother was the daughter of the Count of Flanders?

RdM: Umm, yes?

GtK: Which makes me either a Norman or a Fleming. Definitely not a Saxon. I rule over Saxons. I wipe my feet on Saxons. I slap them with big fish. I AM NOT A SAXON!


Fap: Wha’e’re ya say, Sassenach kingy.

GtK: Oh, go away! And get me one of those Chronicle writers!


Exeunt Omnes







Januari 1107.

Enter a Chronicle Writer Irving the Somnolent, led by a Scottish page, Farquharson.

ItS: Are you sure it’s safe?

Fap: Hoots! The mon is a Barrel o’ laughs! A small barrel, mind ye. Gallon sized, ye ken.


ItS: Um. Yes. I am a priest though and this family doesn’t like priests!

Fap: Och, nae! They love the clergy! They scream so nice, ye ken.

ItS: Oh. Great.

GtK: Ah. You would be the new Chronicle Writer.

ItS: Umm, yes your Majesty.

GtK: Good. Now I expect to read whatever you write what I want you to write. You can begin by writing about the short-lived marriage of my grandfather, the late lamented Robert de Falaise, to his first wife, my father’s mother.


ItS: Ummm. But they weren’t married

GtK: I say they were.

ItS: You…you want me to lie? In an official chronicle!?

GtK: You can either lie in an official chronicle or lie in a grave. And if I am feeling generous I might let you die first.

ItS: Yes, your majesty.

GtK: You may also announce that I am Just. Again

RtM: And that we are at war with France.

GtK: Really? Now isn’t that nice?


The English armies had just laid siege to Île de France in March 1107 when a messenger arrived in the Camp.

Fap: Hoots! Sassenach kingy mon!

GtK: Oh, great.

Fap: I hae’ some real bad news far ya laddie.

GtK: My Major Domo has hired another Scottish page.

Fap: Nae mon. Yer woman is deid.

GtK: Deid? She fell in a barrel of dye?

Fap: Nae, Nae, deid! As in pegged it, snuffed it, kicked the bucket!

GtK: Ah. Thank you for breaking it to me so gently. And how did she die?


Fap: While giving birth to your umpth friggin’ bairn, ya great wollop!


GtK: I see. Thank you. And thanks for your commiseration.

RdM: Since you are no doubt going to look for a new wife, this might be a good time to start looking for wives for your half-brother Jocelyn the Boar wrestling Martial Maniac.

GtK: Someone strong and with tusks.

RdM: Not a problem. We’ll just look among one of the older lines of Nobility.

ItS: Ummm. Should I be writing this down?


Jocelyn was married to a strong and mighty wife. Purely for his own self-protection Jocelyn proceeded to become a Brilliant Strategist, just like his dad. He was swiftly appointed to the function of Marshall of England
Guy married Julienne de Maçon, the younger sister of Blanche, his late wife. Seeing that Julienne had underdeveloped Diplomacy skills, she was made Steward instead. Which meant Robert de Mowbray was Chancellor again, much to his disgust.

jocelyn4hd.jpg



Guess who became Marshall?


The war against France was over quickly and without much pain. On the side of the English at any rate. Thibaut Capet lost his title of King of France to Guty de Normandie and Île de France and Orleans to Henri, Duc de Champagne. Which left him with the titles of Duke of Francia and Orleans as well as the single province Demesne of Bearn as we come to the close of the year 1109.


1109: In other news.

Farquharson, a Scottish Page enter left. Irving the Somnolent enter right.

FaP: Hoots, mon!


ItS: What exactly does Hoots mean?

FaP: Hoots! Hoots means Hoots ye ken!

ItS: I see. What news?

FaP: Cecilia de Normandie, the king’s eldest daughter, has gotten hitched to Spymaster Coenred Bacon, to better produce a suitably sneaky heir. The Queen has given birth to a verra promising lad. Verra promisin. Name of Henry. The King was so overjoyed it took him a mere three months to get her up and bulgin’agin. Also Gregory Giffard got Pneumonia.

ItS: Who got Pneumonia?


FaP: Gregory Giffard, some useless fop, ye ken.

The year 1110 came around. One of King William’s old courtiers, Mahaut de Salisbury died. The promising Lord Henry of Normandie died in March, much to his father’s disappointment.

In april Alfonso Jiminez, still not dead, declared war on the Sheikdom of Nantes.

GtK: The Sheikdom of Nantes? Why doesn’t anyone tell me these things?


Nantes brought it’s ally into the war, the Sheikdom of Tangiers.

GtK: Robert, are these people going to be a danger? What kind of Ruler is the Sheik of Tangiers? Is he dangerous in combat?

RdM: He is a bed ridden, severely wounded, ill, 110 year old.

110yearolda6zh.jpg


Know thine enemy


GtK: 110 years old. You do realize this war is going to be a public relations nightmare, don’t you?

RdM: Well, he is an infidel

GtK: Oh. That’s all right then.

Nantes and Algiers weren’t much of a problem....

finalvictoryovertangiers6km.jpg




Screenies of the current empire will follow. I thought I was kicked out of the server but apparently I wasn't. :p
 
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Gerat AAR, is it just me or is there a bevvy of great AAR's around at the moment. Anyway this one is very cool, though your king looks like one sad ass dude.

What is the goal Dead William, especially as you are no longer a bastard? Will Guy get the pretty wench pop up and create an uber bastard?

Update!

Oh and great cameo Farq! :)
 
Mike von Bek Onward to Sassenach glory!
Sassenach glory? Sassenach Glory!? I hit Sassenachs with a big fish! Norman Glory and the Sassenachs can lick my boots! :D Btw I assume your 1000th post was made elsewhere?


BBBD Yes he does look like a depressed llama, doesn't he? Good hair though :D My goal? Like every weekend BBBD, try and conquer the world :rolleyes:

As for the possibility of a bastard son, wait and see. Though considering the usually utter crap scores of bastards it seems unlikely he will inherit, even with my elective system of inheritance. Update? I just updated twice in a single day! And I might have te repost the entire last one, as the stupid thing won't do the colours properly! :mad:

Edit: Mad at the forum not at you BBBD ;)
 
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Dead William said:
Mike von Bek sez: Onward to Sassenach glory!
Sassenach glory? Sassenach Glory!? I hit Sassenachs with a big fish! Norman Glory and the Sassenachs can lick my boots! :D Btw I assume your 1000th post was made elsewhere?

Aye, trust a Sassenach to say that :)

As to my 1000th, Im not entirely sure. I wasnt paying attention. Certainly it must have been close.
 
Mike von Bek Sassenach? I don't see no Sassenach. Bawn an' bwed in the bwiaw pach bwew Fox, bawn an' bwed!
 
A Most Royal Occupation: War!

1110 started with a humble petition


A humble petitioner: Greetings, O mighty Guy, King of England, France, Germany, duke of Salisbury, uummm….

GtK: Yes? And?

A Humble petitioner: Ummm. Your father wouldn’t let anyone get past King of England. I don’t know it any further!

GtK: I see. And what is your name, humble petitioner?

AHP: Baldwin Beresford Brougier-DeLancie my Liege! I have come to plead that you convene a parliament of the Estates so that you may raise extra taxes!


GtK: Well BBBD, I see no need to call the Estates. I have more money than Croesus ever dreamed of. So you can just toddle of to home.

A humble BBBD: Yes great lord! Praise to your just and great rule! I will proclaim you just all the way home!

GtK: I see. And where do you live?

A humble BBBD: Just down the road

GtK: Well, that’ll help my reputation


King Guy was carefully filing his coleoptera and thinking of branching out into butterflies. Then a stranger called, dressed all in hides.

A stranger: Gütentag, mein König!

GtK: Huh?

A stranger: Ich bin ein Mariënburger!

GtK: No doubt. Ummm. Just a moment here. PAGE!!!

FaP: Hoots?

GtK: I have a man here I cannot understand, is dressed badly and smells worse. Is he Scottish?

FaP: Wot?

A stranger: Mein Name is Michael von Bek!!!!

GtK: And he seems to be very enthusiastic

FaP: Hoots mon! Cannae ye unnerstan’! He disna wear the tartan!

odin1nl.jpg



A German pagan


besleyruperthighlanddressjt8zg.jpg


Scottish Highlander


Spot the differences :D




GtK: Not Scottish then? He certainly smells that way. Oh well. Get Robert de Mowbray over here will you?

FaP: Yes. I mean Aye.

RdM: You send for me, Sire?

GtK: Ah, Robert. Can you understand this man?

RdM: Well, he seems to be a German pagan form Mariënburg

GtK: How can you tell?

RdM: You collect coleoptera. I collect… other things.

GtK: Ummm. Let’s not go there. Anyway, ask him what he wants

RdM: Certainly my liege. I have ways of making him talk. This way please, young man….



hanotorturechamber6jn.jpg


Ways of making him talk?

A short time later

MvB: Greetings, my king! I am Michael von Bek

GtK: Hmmm. That was fast. What did you do, Robert?

RdM: I changed his culture in the save file. Don’t worry; I’ll change it back once he’s delivered his message.

GtK: Excellent. What do you want from me Michael von Bek?

MvB: We want to organize a great pagan feast! To honour our bloodthirsty gods of war and slaying!

GtK: There are two reasons why I shall forbid this: The first is I want the increase in piety that forbidding this will garner me. Secondly, Monsignor Cinquanta Penny has a knife in my back.

MvB: I travelled all this way and had my culture forcibly changed merely to be refused!?

GtK: Yes. Of course if you insist we can give you a guided tour of the dungeon.

MvB: No. Thank you. Refusal is fine and dandy. Yup.


Then Guy’s five year old daughter Matilda got a monastic education.

Matilda: Don’t wanna go to the pwiests!

GtK: You’re going to the monastery if you like it or not!

Matilda: I wanna beat up boaws and kick soldiews! I wanna be a Genewal!

GtK: You can’t! You’re a girl. I don’t care if you have a martial skill of 10 at age four; you’re going to be a nun. Got that!?


Matilda: Then I wanna be a mawtial nun!

GtK: Whatever. Here’s a bible.


matildawouldhavemadeagoodmarsh.jpg


She would have made nice marshall...


In November a humble petitioner came to the castle

BBBD: Greetings Guy, by the grace of God king of England, Germany, France…


GtK: Thank you. That will be sufficient.

BBBD: Bu-but I had just memorized all your titles!

GtK: That’s very nice, but I know them already. Now what do you want?

BBBD: Ummm. We, you know, we’re like wondering, you know, as the three estates and stuff, if you wanted to organize a parliament of the three estates, and call for no money, so I can declare you Just again on the way home. You know?

GtK: I will not call a Parliament. Now go away.

BBBD: Thank you my liege, I will sing your praises all the way home!

GtK: We haven’t developed Praise Singing yet, I think. So please start your singing outside. Goodbye.

The year 1111 arrived without much else happening. Roger de Normandie, Guy’s half-brother had met a merchant in the woods in December and gained much insight in running estates from him. Roger was married to a nice welsh girl named Olwen who had real big stats. A vassal (Guess who) declared that Guy was Just. A son was born to Julienne and Guy in May, a promising lad named Gauthier. In July Julienne was knocked up again. (It was a slow time for coleoptera apparently)

Milyuns Bacon went mad, the Sheik of Tangiers, who after the conquests of Tangiers was only the sheik of Atlas Mountains was finally killed in his bed at 111 when Atlas Mountains was captured.

Fulk de Saint Nylan: Hail King Guy, who is now also lord of Atlas Mountains!

GtK: Really. There’s a very humble petitioner in the city somewhere who probably wants to know that.

Fulk de Saint Nylan: Umm. Yes Sire. Also I think Gregory Giffard now has Pneumonia and is really stressed. He is coughing violently, trembling and beating his head against the wall.

GtK: Who? Oh, never mind, I’ll just make him count of Atlas Mountains.

In 1112 Gregory Giffard got his title and got married in Januari and begot a child three days later. Februari saw the vassalization of the Duke of Champagne, who had conquered Île de France and Orleans some years earlier. Also Guy declared that he was now King of Mauretania. No one cared, really.
A crusade was called by the Pope against Alexandria. No one seemed to care about that either.
In June Gauthier died, in october Constance got an intestinal worm and hogged the toilet, Milyuns got a mania which made her fear to leave her bedroom. On a slightly brighter note Sevilla converted to Catholicism.
A son was born to Gregory Giffard, who proceeded to die and left his domains to his three week old son. Then Milyuns decided to build a Tower of Babylon. In her bedroom apparently.

January 1113

Fap: Hoots, Kingy!

GtK: Aaargh!

FaP: Joost to let ya knoo, A fake compôte has made a vassal join your cause.

GtK: A fake Compôte? How did that happen?

FaP: Aweel, it seems that the duck o’Burgundy hae been charmin’the socks o’ Dietrich Count of Nordgau. Regrettably burgundy haes a large industry o’munoofacooring fake fruit. SO he sends a be-ootifool basket o’fake apples too Count Dietrich. An’count Dietrich, bein’ partial to a nice compôte of an evenin’he sent it to his cooks an’his cooks mad’ a compôte o’ false fruit. Hence a false compôte.

GtK: Uhuh. I see. Well. Indeed. Somehow it doesn’t sound quite right.

FaP: och aye.

April saw Essex achieve an economic upswing. It also saw a visitor to the court.

Michael von Bek: Greetings!

GtK: Hey, you’re still speaking English!

MvB: No, I first went to your Chancellor to get my culture changed. But anyway, I am here to report that we Marienburgers are from now on going to be ruled by the Teutonic Knights.

GtK: You are? Have I got anything to say about this?

MvB: Nope. You just get a notification: Marienburg will from now on be ruled by the Teutonic order.

GtK: Well I did not conquer Marienburg to hand it over to a bunch of Germans in lederhosen to hold bierfests there! I want a claim on the title!

MvB: Sorry. No can do. Gotta go now, wish you all the best.

GtK: I hope they get conquered by hordes of Pagans! Aaargh!! I need to kill something!!
Robert! Send a message! I am going on a Crusade against Alexandria! Gather my armies!!!



Shipping the armies was rather expensive. An unwise building project further decreased the treasury. Marshall Jocelyn demanded a large amount of money as his contract stated he only had to fight within England and no-one had mentioned wars in foreign parts, thank you very much! A sawmill was burned down in Essex by Fatimid terrorists. The cost of keeping the army in the field was depleting the treasury at an alarming rate, even before the first soldier set foot on Fatimid ground.

A great battle was fought in Alexandria in June. Alexandria fell in early august. Guy was visited by Julienne in September with predictable results for a man who had been without his collection of coleoptera for two months.
Good news arrived from Delta as well.

Fulk de Saint Nylan: My king, we have conquered Delta!

Guy the King: Good, now go conquer Pelusia, Buhairya, Cairo and maybe some other places. And get on with it! Your anonymous sieging is taking far too long! Do something about it!

FdeSN: Ummm. Very well, my King. I shall try to become less anonymous.

bignoseglassesthmb2sx.jpg



An unsuccesful attempt...

The war against the Fatimids went on, costing king Guy vast amounts of money. He was contemplating a bowl of beetmash when a page came in:

FaP: Hoots!

GtK: You do realize you are making an excellent case for the conquest of Scotland and the eradication of the language?

FaP: Och, dinna fash yersel’ laddie! Anyhoo the heathens are fractured an’it be possible to make a white peace!

GtK: The Heathens are fractured, eh? We shall have to be careful not to cut ourselves then.

FaP: Was tha’ supposed to be a joke?

GtK: Yes, and you are supposed to laugh.

Fap: Oach, I think I’ll wait till they discover humour in Essex firs’ I think!

GtK: Hmmm. Some mash?

In March Seaxbald Bacon was denounced as a coward during a great battle in Cairo. In April the Kingdom of Beni Helal conquered the province of Mahdia from England.

GtK: How did that happen, Robert?

RdM: well, you take an army, put it around an enemy castle and eventually the castle will fall through sheer exhaustion of the garrison. Alternatively you can charge the castle but that usually costs far more men.

GtK: Sigh. How did we get to be at war with them, Robert?

RdM: Oh, the county of Atlas Mountains declared war upon Beni Helal. You decided to aid them. Then you sort of forgot to send an army there.

GtK: Ah. Very well. Remind me to send an army there once I have conquered the Kingdom of the Fatimids.

RdM: Oh, that reminds me: the nobles of Buhairya want to convert the province to Catholicism. They all want very large amounts of money to do so. The priesthood want to convert Cairo. And Sevilla, Algeciras and Niebla are revolting.

GtK: Oh. Joy.

The king was not made any happier when attempts were made to convert Algeciras and Delta and Buhairya (again) All of which failed and left the provinces in turmoil. It did nothing to increase the solvency of the crown either. The kingdom of the Fatimids withdrew in its final fastness in the lands of the Sheik of Madaba, who was less than pleased.


Madaba fell. The long, protracted and costly war was over. Then a messenger came to king Guy’s tent.

A messenger: My king I come bearing he gravest news!

King Guy, looking carefully around: “Where’s the fellow with the ridicilous skirt and the weird accent?”


AM: He couldn’t come sire! His eldest son’s wife has given birth to a son. He told me to tell you that there will always be a Farquharson to serve the English crown!
Umm…. Your majesty!!! That can’t be healthy!!! Your majesty!!!


Some time later. King Guy’s tent. The king’s personal guard had barely prevented him from stabbing himself in the head. Robert de Mowbray was sitting by his king’s bedside.

RdM: …so the Sheik of Kerak refuses us access through his lands. Which means we’d have to disband our armies and allow the men to be butchered one by one as they try to travel home alone. And those that do live to see the mediterrenean will not be able to pay the Venetians for the privilege of being thrown overboard.

GtK: HHRMMM!????!!!!

RdM: I still don’t see why the news should upset you so. The Sheik of Hebron has not even a fifth of the army we still have under arms, so we merely capture his puny domain and then march through to Hebron and to the sea.


GtK: HHRHMMMDERFUHHHINBSTRD!!!??!??!

RdM: If I remove the gag, will you promise not to shout?

GtK: hmmmm!

RdM: So. What was the reason for that disgracefull scene? Not cowardice I hope.


GtK: Robert, how much would it cost to assassinate a Scottsman? And his entire family?

RdM: Ah. That explains that.


Kerak fell swiftly. The messenger returned.


A Messenger: My liege! The Sheik of Hebron refuses to allow our forces access through his lands!


GtK: Why am I not surprised…..

Regrettably the English army was defeated most ignobly by the inferior forces of Hebron. Three times.

GtK: Now I am surprised.

Guy would quickly become even more surprised.

The Papal Inquisitor: Guy, King of England and France, Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, Duke of…..


GtK: Very little patience. What do you want? Before that, how the hell did you get past the armies of the Sheik of Hebron?

TPI: I did not. I crossed through the fine Christian counties of Acre and Jerusalem, then over the Dead Sea and passed up from behind the lines!

GtK: Right. Of course. How obvious. Ehhehheh.

TPI: There is a dangerous infidel at your court! He must be brought into the arms of the Mother Church!

GtK: A dangerous infidel? Don’t you think I would know?

TPI: Hah! Here he is!


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My dangerous infidel


GtK: Yes. I can see him spreading heresy and the faith of Allah. In about sixteen years time.

TPI: DO not mock me! He is dangerous and he should be SLAIN!!!

GtK: Quite. Anyway, I’d like to know how he got here.

TPI: He is the son of the son of your enemy!! He is the Heir to the Kingdom of the Fatimids!!


GtK: Really? You may have a point with that slain out of hand thing….

TPI: Oh, by the way, as I travelled through Alexandria and Cairo I was informed that as mighty guild of thieves, a ring of smugglers and a guild of assassins have arisen in both those provinces.


GtK: Sigh. DEEEP SIGH!!

After the conquest of Hebron, at a ridiculous cost in men.

GtK: So, Robert. We could have shipped our armies over the dead sea Bohemian Jerusalem and Acre and so have shipped our armies home without this battle for Hebron?

RdM: Yes

GtK: And you didn’t realize this?

RdM: Neither did you

GtK: Good point

After the final defeat of the Fatimids Guy shipped his armies from Alexandria to Mahdia. For some odd reason (to wit, the armies of Guys vassals, including the Duke of Morocco) The King of Beni Helal had not been able to conquer any other lands. Capture of the province of Mahdia was quick, but Beni Helal was sieging Tunis. Guy marched into Tunis. Beni Helal marched out. Guy marched into Kairwan, Beni Helal marched back into Mahdia. With a few days of grace, Guy captured Beni Helal and the King of beni Helal was abandoned by his armies.


GtK: Robert!

RdM: Yes, my liege?

GtK: Is there anything to eat, except beet mash?

RdM: No, my king. All we have is a massive overdraft. We have had to sell taxation rights in our sawmills in Essex, Algeciras and Hampshire, the castle at Bristol has fallen into such disrepair that it has been ordered abandoned and moneylenders have taken control of the proceeds of the Royal breweries in Cadiz and Tunis. And Alexandria, Delta, Buhairya, and all our other territories conquered in the late war are in revolt. And the Emir of Cyrenaica has declared war on us.

GtK: How big an overdraft?

RdM: At the moment in the region of 7000 ducats.

GtK: Maybe beet mash is too luxurious a food….

The Emirate of Cyrenaica fell. The King, annoyed as he was, decided to conquer some more infidel lands. The wars took a relatively short time, considering the fact that the wars had been going on for years. Then the Emir of Tyrus, for reasons best known to him, declared war on the mightiest Christian kingdom, and Christendom’s most perpetually annoyed king.

The longest part of that war was marching the army from Atlas Mountains to the sea and the cost of shipping the still considerable army to Tyrus. Tyrus fell quickly, as did Baalbek and Beirut, the other demesnes of the apparently most stupid ruler in the world.

RdM: My king!

GtK: Don’t tell me! Prester John has declared war on us! We have to march into the depths of Asia to defeat his army of 50 men!

RdM: The Emir of Tyrus has sought asylum at your court.

GtK: ……


RdM: With his wife and five children

GtK: …….


RdM: Shall I warn the Papal Inquisitor?

GtK: …….

RdM: I shall take that as a yes.



I have taken to using f12 to “take care” of the infidels who wander into my court. Especially the ones who are my former enemies. At least as long as a forced conversion of courtiers event is not forthcoming!

My humble and heartfelt apologies to all the readers whose personalities I have mangled so far. Those who object, please let me know. i might actually do something about it.
:D


Edit: Colours again... Sigh :rolleyes:

Edit 2: Robert's last speech is now yellow, not orange
 
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I rather like the idea of being unconvincingly anonymous. :D
 
OHHHH, my first cameo!!!!! :D

I am so very humble I will sing your praises and proclaim you just all over the realm your most majestic one, even if you are not a bastard you are still a great king. :)

But my Lord, there is the matter of the 50 ducats I let thee last Tuesday, if I could just ....what .....get out?.....NOW? Oh, okay my just and financially irresponsible one.
 
Lost Notes

Having lost my notes over the next twenty years or so, (I will write them, not type them from now on) I will have to laboriously reconstruct things from memory and the history file. This may take some time. Also since I find reading the history text exceedingly wearisome, the updates will be shorter. Hopefully I will have something by saturday or Sunday (my tomorrow or the day after) Sorry, oh yeah cameos!

DW
 
Oh, it's not going to stop if I can help it at all. I Just played myself to an enormous nailbiting cliffhanger and I won't allow myself to play on untill I've got the AAR upto date. Short update tomorrow at any rate. I did try to play a game as Rodrigo de Vivar, but the de Vivar's just won't breed :rofl:
 
Well in your own time. We've all lost notes at one time or other.
 
Dead William, A very funny and a very cleverly written AAR. Congratulations. I especially like the way you've used the cameos (any chance of a role!?). Hope you survive the loss of notes, and keep those jokes coming. Great stuff.
 
And now for soemthing completely different. Well, not really.

King Guy of England was lying back in a new-fangled invention called a hammock. The sun was shining brightly and a refreshing and very alcoholic drink was standing close by. His hammock was slung in his city of Alexandria, the headquarters of his Crusade. More specifically it was slung between two fine, mature date trees. Two handsome, lissom, buxom, (you get the idea) native girls were fanning him with palm fronds and wiping his weary brow with soft, cool cloths. Guy’s thoughts were not particularly focused, but they ran something along the lines of: IT IS GOOD TO BE KING!!!

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It is good to be king


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It is good to be cat, too

England was at peace. A couple of months campaigning had seen an end to the Emir of Cyrenaica. His lands had been granted to the new Cardinal Archbishop of Cyrenaica, and Guy had finally found time to lay claim to some titles and to create some new nobles from the layabouts and good –for nothings in his court. His control over his own lands was much improved, but he was still massively in debt and most of his non-English personal domains were revolting, or at least, in revolt.

These sad thoughts of course brought more bad news. The distinctive cologne of Robert de Mowbray, his aging but still savy chief advisor, tingled in Guy’s nostrils. Guy sighed.

GtK: What is it, Rob?

RdM: Ummm. Remember the thing you never wanted me to mention?

GtK: What, that night in Tyrus?

RdM: No, the other one.

GtK: That night in Pelusia?

RdM: No. It involves one of your brothers. The, uuummm, really successful one.


GtK: Ah. My brother Richard, formerly Cardinal Archbisshop of York. Now Bishop of Rome, Pope and Pontifex Maximus.


RdM: Happily married with five children, yup.

Guy’s thoughts wandered back to that glorious moment when he had been informed that his elder brother had been elected pope by the College of Cardinals. It had meant a considerable outlay of money and some even less salubrious methods to get Richard elected. It had been a great achievement for the entire house of Normandie. The joy was short-lived, as a letter arrived for Guy.


Dear Guy,

As you have no doubt heard by now, I have been elected pope. I must admit I could not have done it without your support, and it is therefore with great hesitancy that I must bring up the fact of papal control. Before I left I was considerably less certain of my election than you were, and I decided that I needed relaxation. So I joined Fulk, Robert’s second son, you know, for a game of dice. I got a little tight and, you know how these things happen, I promised him he would be papal controller if he won the next toss. He did. Also, he is the representative of the senior line of the family, which makes him, under Canon law, the head of the family. Sorry about that. Your affectionate brother, Richard.

Marcellinus III,

Affix Bul here.



Needless to say, Guy had not wanted that matter mentioned any more.

GtK: Yes. Well. Has he died?

RdM: No. He wants to call a crusade.

Guy closed his eyes and hummed a song.

RdM: To liberate Palermo from the Heathen Yoke.

Guy’s humming became louder.

RdM: Palermo is, of course, a very rich province. And conquering it would give us a strong foothold in Italy. Which we need since we can’t nick the title King of Italy from anybody anymore.

Guys opened his eyes. Rich you say?

RdM: Very. And of course you would gain considerable prestige from conquering Palermo.


GtK: And it does sort of lie on our way home, doesn’t it? Oh, very well. Lets go.


Before the walls of Syracusa. Guy sits looking at the sand between his feet and is drawing circles. A sunburned man approaches. He looks familiar

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Noli turbare circulos meos


BBBD: Greetings my king!

GtK: Hmmm. You are standing on my circles.

BBBD: My apologies your majesty! I have come from the parliaments of England, France and Germany and have travelled through the width and breadth of your domain!


GtK: So have I. Much of it is desert. Your point?


BBBD: We, your parliament of the Estates would like to offer you the chance to show the world again your temperance, goodwill and innate justness!


GtK: How? By providing free schooling for the children of the oppressed? Renovating run-down neighbourhoods? Washing your clothes?

BBBD: No sire! We have calculated that if you call a parliament you would garner wealth to the amount of 5768.9 Livre d’or! Of course you would not do such a thing, so I shall return home and declare you just all along the Mediterranean seaboard!

Guy looked at the man in disbelief, then held out his hand for the parchment he carried.

GtK: 5768,9 Livres d’or. Or half that if I raise a gentle tax. Hmmmm. ROBERT!!!!


RdM: Yes, my Liege?

GtK: I have decided to call the general estates of all my domains. Here’s the reason why.

Robert took the parchment. He looked at the figures given. He smiled broadly, then grinned like a shark.

BBBD: Ummm. You mean you want us to pay?

GtK: Yes. This is a problem?

BBBD: Well, you know, people might say you were fickle, even arbitrary, you know.


GtK: People like you, you mean? I say, Robert, did we bring that foldeable dungeon kit that the King of the Fatimids had made? It was rather nifty.

RdM: Why, yes. But we should have it set to up see if all the parts still work. Intricate workmanship like that, it might have gotten damaged.

BBBD: Ummmm. All Hail the King! The King is Great! The King is Just! Not a bad word about the King!

GtK: Thank you my loyal subject. You can tell my other loyal subjects my decision as you travel homewards. Good Bye.

King Guy’s brother Richard (Don’t mention the Pope!) was very pleased with his brother’s conquest. So pleased he had a massive heart attack and died. The new pope immediately placed himself under the protection of Christendom’s most powerful king, most pious crusader and the commander of the army that happened to be positioned strategically in Palermo, a short journey away from Rome itself.

GtK: Well. That was unexpected. Robert!

RdM: Yes?


GtK: Testy today, aren’t we?

RdM: I am nearly 80 you know. Running around to do your bidding is really starting to wear out my knees.

GtK: Hmmm. Well, you shall be glad to hear that we are going home. I think we have crusaded enough for now. Oh. I am going to send a letter to the Emperor of Byzantium. What do you think?



To His most Illustrious Imperial Majesty, the Emperor of Byzantium and the Roman Empire,

Sir,

Hereby to inform you that I am the greatest King in Christendom and you are a wimpy decadent. Your throne will be mine and your women will sleep in my bed. (The pretty ones. And unlike with you, the pretty ones won’t get much sleep) Your sons will draw my chariot and your eunuchs, actually your eunuchs can pretty much sod of, I don’t want them. Same goes for the Patriarch of Constantinople. And your rooms full of Toy-boys! (You really shouldn’t have gotten involved with that tall Varangian in the pink tights, information has this way of spreading…. )

Hope you have nice day, Guy, soon to be Emperor of Byzantium


RdM: Well, it’s clear. But you might consider keeping the army at full strength for a while.

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What really happened

As the armies were embarking, a messenger arrived from the Holy Land.

A messenger from the Holy Land: Greetings Guy!

GtK: I beg your pardon? I think you mean your majesty?


A messenger: You are not the king of England! I am! And one day I will rise up against you and slay you and take what is rightfully mine!

GtK: You’re not Milyuns Bacon in disguise are you? No, she won’t come out of her room. Anyway, what do you want, except, apparently, commit suicide?


Rex Angliae: I have come to tell you that as a first step in my conquest of your corrupt nation I have encouraged the Order of the Knights of the Hospital of Saint John to seize control of the lands of Acre!

GtK: Somehow this seems familiar. I take it I get no claim on this land? No say in this matter? No opportunity to show my disfavour by hanging the Grand Master by his scrotum over a viper pit?

RA: Ummm. No?

GtK: No chance to disagree with the other knights by having blunt poles inserted into their recta, just long enough that they can stand on tiptoe or really become uncomfortable?

RA, edging away: Umm, No?

GtK: Oh dear. That means I will have to settle for you then….

RA: I have diplomatic immunity!

GtK: I have a hearing problem. Also I have a nasty rash. AND I have a staff of skilled men who know how to keep a man alive for years.


As the fleet, accompanied by copious screams, was sailing up the Thames, Guy looked at his faithful advisor.

GtK: ROBERT!!!

RdM: Bloody hell, Guy!! I am standing right next to you, no need to scream!


GtK: Heh. I have decided to promote some more good for nothing courtiers to noble positions. I think we can still improve the running of the Crown Lands. So here is the list of undesirables and twits who get titles now.

RdM: I see. Some more newly arrived knights and priests whom you feel compelled, for some reason, to promote despite the complete lack of knowledge you have as to their antecedents and their heirs.

GtK: Something like that.

RdM: For instance, the most excellent, and no doubt deserving of a kick, Lord Robert de Mowbray gets to be Earl and Duke of Hampshire and High Chancellor of the Realm and his son becomes Archbishop of York.

GtK: Yes?

RdM:…..

GtK: Of course this doesn’t mean you’re of the hook. You do notice I gave you a duchy so close to me you can administer it from London.

RdM: ……

GtK: Don’t get all soppy on me now!

RdM: ……

GtK: Good man.

The next few months were used by Guy to get re-reacquainted with his wife, Julienne, who had visited him in Alexandria on some, memorable, occasions. He confirmed some appointments, such as his new Chancellor and Steward. He mostly sat looking out over the English countryside and watched the caravans of gold and goods streaming towards London. So much gold that swiftly the treasury was flowing with wealth again. Guy decided the time had come to buy back some of the many improvements sold to tax farmers during his crusades. Also he made an investigation into the state of the schools. Then he built some.


More to follow, hopefully tomorrow.
 
With spending liek that he might just win the election on Thursday! ;)
 
StNylan: To those who labour all things come....laboriously. I have reconstructed my notes and here is the result. Be glad of your anonymity. Be very glad....

Mike von Bek: Well, I must admit I was pretty despondent myself, but I decided to see what happened. It still cost me plenty of improvements, but I never had a negative income, which helped a great deal. Of course that General Estates thing was exceedingly welcome. And I didn't even become arbitrary! I think. ( I may have lost it again, later on)

BBBD: Real kings don't borrow anything less than 100 ducats. :D Now see what happens if you disturb the king and become to forward? Happy travels home....

Rex Angliae: You aksed, you have received.... Now what did you expect with a nick like that? But, be comforted! You will be kept alive for years..... :rolleyes:


Edit: I completely forgot to thank all those who've read and commented and sacrificed their poor personas. Thanks all!
 
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