• 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.
In Which Edward Promotes the Good Life And Science!

The might of the Norman Empire was unequalled. That was, in short, the report his father’s advisors had told him. This was no news to Edward. He was also getting used to the snide looks the northern nobles gave him whenever he turned around suddenly or as he looked behind curtains for assassins. Then again, none of them had been Emperor of Byzantium, a position plagued by rebelling princes and other vassals. Complaints, assassinations and backstabbing were the food and drink of the Byzantine court. Edward had been glad to leave, despite the greater luxury of the Byzantine palace. London might be simpler in edifice; it was also simpler in intrigue. And now, with his father’s lands added to his grandfather’s Edward was unquestionably the mightiest lord in the world. And the Byzantine princes had lost heir stranglehold upon his policies. Now it was time to act, to destroy the princes who had defected in earlier years and from various emperors, to expand the Empire even further. It was also time to spread the enlightenment wisdom of the ancients.
As Edward sat contemplating his future, a messenger arrived, Great-grandson of his father’s favourite dart board. He had taken a position in the Royal Post, serving only in England, realising that such simple messages as he had to carry there would hardly endanger his life by enraging a bad-tempered monarch.


AaM: Sire! I come from the court of the Bishop of Somerset bearing a message of great import!

Edward, carefully drawing a line on an illuminated manuscript: Indeed. Probably he named another marshal or something and wants the position approved. Read it to me.

AaM: Read it to you?

Edward: Yes. My hands have ink on them, and such messages must go into the archives.

AaM: Of course. Ahem: To Edward, the stuck up ponce of Engla…

Edward, laying down a small bit of gold leaf with a stick and brushing it down with marter hairs: Pray, continue, I find the opening words most interesting.

AaM: Ulp… nd, hail! I have decided you are not worthy being a king, being married to a heretic and ugly to boot. Also you smell. I am going my own way. Harold of Somerset, bishop.

Edward, gently blowing a small sliver of gold away, catching it with a soft cloth and gathering the flakes of gold up for reuse: Hmmm. Most annoying. Ah, well. Tell the Duke of Cornwall to summon his armies. The same message to the Duke of Deheubarth.

AaM: Me? I should take these messages?

Edward, finally looking up: Yes. You are a Royal messenger, aren’t you? So, you carry Royal messages.

AaM: You’re not going to have me tortured for bringing you bad news?

Edward: You want to be tortured? I have heard of many strange desires, mostly from master BBBD, but even he has no desire of being given over to the Royal Torturers. But if you want me to, I am certain something can be arranged.

AaM: No! No, it will be fine! Really! Thank you! I’ll report to the clerks and get the messages, shall I?

Edward: Please do. Oh, before you go, would you mind handing me the burnt sienna? Thank you.

As might be expected, the war against the Bishop of Somerset was over fairly soon.

Edward: Ah, bishop Harold! Such a pleasure to receive you! Now, as to this matter of becoming independent and calling me a ponce?

Bishop Harold: Ummm? It was a joke?

Edward: A Joke?

Bishop Harold: A bad joke?

Edward: A Bad Joke?

Bishop Harold: A Sales Campaign?

Edward: A what? Never mind. I am sending you to Egypt.

Bishop Harold: You are making me bishop of Alexandria?

Edward: No, I am having you put in a very nice hermitage. It’s called St. Catherine’s.

Bishop Harold: And what if I said I was really sorry?

Edward: I might tell them not to brick up the door.


Edward returned to London to start cataloguing his Grandfather’s Coleoptera and his father’s Lepidoptera. He could almost feel their voices in his head as he worked on the delicate specimens and classified them in his new system.

Guy: What’s wrong with the old classifications? I ask you! Big and shiny, big and not so shiny, big and difficult to catch, all sounds perfectly reasonable to me!

Gerald: And I can’t understand what’s wrong with listing my captures of Lepidoptera with the locations of my capture of Wenches! Utterly comprehensible!

Guy: If one has access to your six volumes of little black book.

Gerald: Ah, yeah, there is that.

William: Well at least my crocheting work is held in high regard!

One marvellous June night, as Edward worked on the classification of his father’s Russian butterflies, with many references to his six tome “little black book”, a messenger arrived.

AaM: Sire! There are two men waiting outside.

Edward: Hmmph. Let them wait.

AaM: They are fighting in the hallway, sire!

Edward: Really. How vulgar. Has Farquharson made book yet?

AaM: Ummm. Six to one, I think, sire.

Edward: Here’s five pounds. Bet on the one Farquharson says will loose.

AaM: Ummm, they are fighting over who will be allowed access to you first, might it not be better to let them in and stop this?

Edward: No, if they want access they should bribe the Lord Chamberlain, like all sensible civilized men.

Some time later. Two battered men enter, preceded by AaM and FaP. The Lord Inspector General of the Kings Armies, Lord Michael von Bek VI enters as well.

FaP: Hoots! Hoo did ye knoo who wood win?

Edward: Since you haven’t carried an honest book in your life, obviously the man who you said would lose. Now who are you two?

BBBD: Sire! My family has served you faithfully for many long years in many of the most dangerous places in Europe and the East! Surely you know who I am!
Edward: Ah, yes. Such dangerous places as the Blushing Mermaid and the Red Sheaf Inn. Indeed. Most dangerous. And who are you, pray?

Julius deFlare: I am Julius deFlare, messenger and trusted advisor to Count Rodrigo Julio de Jimenez of Niebla!

Edward: And what is your purpose here?

BBBD: I am here to tell you the Estates General are ready to be called at your command, so that you may be instated properly as king! Like my ancestors before me, I will proclaim you just if you do not call for a gift.

Def: I am here to tell you that lord Rodrigo considers you a fair and wise ruler under Feudal law! I would proclaim you just too!

Edward: Indeed. Well. That is better than the Byzantine princes ever did. They merely thought me arbitrary. Thank you gentlemen.

MvB: My liege, a word?

Edward: Yes?

MvB: Not that I am complaining about my new function, my liege, but I have some questions…

Edward: Cogent ones, no doubt. Hand me the cobalt blue, please.

MvB: Well, I realise that as Lord Inspector General, a newly created function, my standing is somewhat low.

Edward: Hmmm. Well I expect that you’re excellence in that function will quickly increase the respect both you and your title receive.

MvB: But sire, I don’t think, respectfully, that allowing the troops to moon me, will increase the respect for the office or me personally.

Edward: Hmmm. I am afraid it is necessary though. The men don’t feel they are truly soldiers until they have mooned their Marienburger. Since shipping the men to Marienburg is rather expensive, I ship the Marienburger to the men. And you might as well do a little inspecting on the side.

MvB: Maybe we could hire another Marienburger? A Royal Mooning Officer?

Edward: We shall see how the current situation progresses. Anything else?

MvB: I also wondered why my personal guard consists of the RBR?

Edward: For the same reason your personal arms consist of a bucket, a spade and a steaming heap of $#!!t….


As Edward quietly ruled his nation, a man climbed in through the window of his study. Three hours later, the man woke up shackled to the wall in a damp, gloomy, rat infested, moldy, dank dark, and darn right unpleasant dungeon. And with the imprint of Edward’s seal ring stamped firmly on his chin.

Meresin: Uurrghhh

Dr Jestor: Ah, he’s awake! he seems to be in good health. Mr Mac, you may begin!

Meresin: Uh, Begin what, exactly?

Dr Jestor: Why, the Torture, of course! You didn’t think you could try and assassinate the king of England and get away without being tortured? This is mr. Mac “I can keep you alive for 85 days” McMac

Mac: Hmmm, not much meat on this one. I shall begin by taking the skin of his toes and using white hot pincers on his nipples.

Meresin: B-b-ut I am not an Assassin!

Mac: Oh, come on! Dressed all in black, climbs in through the window, knife stuck in your boot. If you are not an assassin, what are you?

Meresin: I am a Welshman!

Mac: Pshaw! A Welshman! And why would a Welshman climb into the window at night? A reason you wouldn't mind telling your mother, mind!

Meresin: To deliver a message to his majesty!

Mac: And why did you not ride up to the gate and ask permission to deliver this message? Why did you climb in in secret?

Meresin: To put the message on the king’s desk and be gone before he knew it was there.

Mac: And why? Huh?

Meresin: Because I know what is in the message!

Mac: Ah. Bad news?

Meresin: Well, I serve the Duke of Deheubarth. His single vassal, the count of Gwent, has declared independence, as well as war upon the Duke.

Mac: I see. Well, I will send someone to tell his majesty.

Meresin: So I won’t get tortured?

Mac: Of course you will! I have a family to feed you know!

Some later. Meresin is standing, shackled, before the King. Well, standing may be a bit optimistic.

Edward: Ah, the unfortunate messenger! I have read your message, and I will go to war with Gwent on behalf of your liege. Now who is the regent for this young man?

Meresin: A polish nobleman know as the King of Minors, sire!

Edward: Why am I not surprised…

Meresin: Umm, since this misunderstanding is now solved, could I go home?

Edward: Go home? You dislike my hospitality?

Meresin: Well, I could do without the White hot pincers, really!

Edward: Oh. I will tell mr. Mac to use red hot pincers then.

Some time later. Gwent had fallen. Gwent had been taken. Gwent had been returned to the Duke of Deheubarth. Edward was studying some artworks in the great Gallery of the Imperial Dowager’s palace.

FaP: Hoots! Crivens, ye betsy!

Edward: Ah. I was wondering when you would show up. Here I am, I thought, in a perfect place on a perfect day. Surely something must happen to mar this day! What is it?

FaP: Crivens! Yer Spymaster has decided she wants to be leader o’ the fanatical sect o’ left handed Genuflectors!

Edward: Oh. She has become a heretic?

FaP: Aye. O, an’yer Cousin, wee Eddie, he has decided to become a Shipshagger!

Edward: Nothing new there at least.

FaP: Aye, but he claims that it wasna the snake who seduced Eve an’ Adam in Paradise, it was a ship.

Edward: A heretical sheepshagger. Now that is new. I suppose I will have to find another spymaster and Chancelor then…

FaP: Och, the Bishap o’ Monreal has sent you a letter. Yu’re a foul minded son of a whoring bastard who lives only for his own gain, the glory of his family an’ the destruction of man’s souls! Tha’s what he says, annyhoo.

Edward: Well, I always like compliments from priests. We will be marching on Monreal pretty soon. Oh, Send a message to the King of Minors, I wish to see him.

The travelling court of the strange and enigmatic nobleman known only as the King of Minors was intercepted by the Royal Messenger service. A number of nobles in Iberia and Germany had died young, and the King of Minors was heading out to support the grieving widows and to plunder the treasuries…ummm, to introduce new fiscal policies.

AaM: Top of the morning to you sir! Message from his most illustrious Majesty, Edward, King of England!

KoM: Aaahhh!!!! I am sorry, what did you say? This massage I am receiving from Jadzia here is really distracting.

AaM: Umm, a message from Edward, Emperor of Byzantium?

KoM: Ooooohhh?!!!! Yes, Kira, nibble my toes, just like that!

AaM: His majesty wants you to appear at the Court of St James on the day of St John the Baptist to explain certain policies whereby it seems that young nobles have taken to declaring independence from the empire as soon as you take control of their affairs.

KoM: What? I didn’t get any of that. Ezri, Leeta, stop nibbling my earlobes for a minute will you?

AaM: His majesty, the king of England wants to see you on the day of St John!

KoM: Yeah, so just tell ol’ Jerry that he can come by and we will sample the new crop together. Keiko! Come over here and walk on my back!

AaM: Ah, maybe I should mention that King Gerald has died and that now his son rules as Emperor Edward of England and Byzantium.

KoM: Hmmm. Oh very well, I will be there on the day of St John.

Monreal. The Bishop of Monreal had been captured as he tried to escape disguised as a French onion seller.

Edward: Ah, my dear bishop. Always a pleasure. I hope the shackles are not too tight?

The bishop of Monreal: MMMMMPHHHH!!!

Edward: Ah, I see the gag at least is quite tight. Why is he wearing a gag? It is very difficult to question a man when he is gagged. Was he offensive?

John Bacon Duke of Oultrejourdain: Well, he was offensive in a way.

Edward: And what way was that, my dear John?

John Bacon: His breath. Apparently the provisions of the garrison consisted primarily of onions, garlic and goat’s cheese.

Edward: I see. (Taking several steps back) Remove the gag. Now sir. Kindly explain to me, your puzzled king, why you revolted against your liege lord, the duke of Oultrejourdain, and thus against me, your king.

Bishop Henry “Ragging Harry” : Because you are a weak pussyfooting idjit! You should be nailed to a doorway and used as a knocker, so you would have some use! You should be stamped on by stampeding Wlaks and nibbled by Iberian rabbits! You should be pecked to death by Russian Berserker Chickens and I was offered a substantial sum of money by the King of Minors to distract you while he plundered some more treasuries.

Edward: Dear me. Well, I suppose there is nothing to do now but see to it the lands you held are distributed more fairly. Lord Bacon, you are now count of Monreal. Bishop, you are now the proud owner of a cell in the monastery of St. Catherine’s. Have a nice day; I’m going back to Baghdad.

It was the day of St John. The King of Minors was arriving at the Palace of Baghdad with his train of Houris, Wlaks, servants, more Houris, treasure chests, clerks and more Houris. It took some time to root him out of his travelling tent, where he was apparently in great pain, or running a high fever. At least, the more innocent members of the court thought that was the only explanation of the sighing, moaning and screaming that emanated from within the silk and cotton walls of the luxurious accommodation.

Edward: Ah, my dear sir, so good to see you. I hope the journey did not inconvenience you too much?

KoM: No, no it’s all right! Travel is part of my life! New lands, new treasuries, new women! All part of the great kaleidoscope that is God’s great Creation. Some more movement with the palm fronds please, Beverly.

Edward: Indeed. It has come to my notice that you have recently taken control of no less than six duchies, through the administration of their demesnes. All of these young men might be described as being disloyalty incarnate. Due to my father’s death he was unable to make amends for his, totally legitimate, conquests of various kingdoms in his later life, and therefore my reputation isn’t all that good. Your actions, in stoking up the fires of rebellion in my Empire, are not at all to my liking.

KoM: Hmmm, well I can imagine that revolt is vexing to you, but I assure you I have nothing to do with these feelings and currents of rebelliousness that seem to pervade your lands and fill the minds of your nobles with thoughts of uprising. Shoulder rub please Tasha.

Edward: I see. So these various revolts and uprisings, the near continuous revolts of the local nobility in my personal demesne has nothing whatsoever to do with the considerable amounts of money you pay these people?

KoM: Nothing whatsoever. Ear nibble please Deanna.

Edward: And this letter has nothing to do with it as well?

KoM: What letter would that be, sire? Laren, take of my shoes and nibble my toes.

Edward: This letter here. Let me read you some of the more pertinent parts.

Dear Bishop Harold of Somerset,

It is time that you revolt against the harsh and unforgiving rule of your sovereign lord and ruler Edward, King of England. I will pay you 250 gold London pounds if you revolt early next year. This should distract him nicely. Edward, of course, is a wimp, and unlike his father will probably allow you to keep your lands, possibly even making peace. You have nothing to fear from him. He is a wuss and a twerp. You might even capture London and demand a great deal of money. Pu$$ywhipped Edward won’t get in your way.


KoM: Dear me, what an unpleasantly offensive epistle! Sela, you can lick the toes of the right foot while Laren licks the left. I fail to see how this has to do with me?

Edward: Well I haven’t read the subscript yet. PS: Thanks for the wine; I will be sending you some nice girls in exchange. King of Minors.

KoM: Ah. Ahahah. Ummmm… Obviously this is a forgery! It has to be! I mean, I am a loyal servant to you, your majesty! I take good care of your poor, young, unprotected nobles whose treasuries and goods are so vulnerable to likeable and unscrupulous rogues.

Edward: Indeed. It might well be a forgery. However, I have some experts in these matters study the document and they agree it is real.

D. Rexus: I didn't make it, it has to be real!

KoM: Obviously someone scratched out the original message and substituted this nefarious piece of treason?

Edward: Possibly. He did use the same ink, the same handwriting and the same pen. Someone very close to you, it would seem….

KoM: Ummmm. Maybe we could come to an agreement? I will supply names and dates and…

Edward: I will supply the cells and thumbscrews?

KoM: Eheheh. You might supply the mercy?

Edward: Mercy. Hmmm. Very well. I will show mercy. This once. Do not let it happen again.

KoM: Thank you sire, Thank you!

Edward: Yes, yes. Send in my messenger on your way out. Oh, and leave the girl with the bumps on her nose.

Enter a messenger.

AaM: Sire, you sent for me?

Edward: yes. I need you to go out into the world and spread the world that I have decided to be merciful, to support the Good Life and support Science!

AaM: Ummm. Should I add Mhuahahahahah!! Or are you still sane?

Edward: I am still sane. Now, go!

goodlife29pb.jpg

The Good Life

scientist8fm.jpg

SCIENCE!!!! MHUAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!
 
Well, I am back, after dismantling and rebuilding my fan. Maybe I should rephrase that. Anyway, you can all start awaiting the next Installment of the exciting Saga of the Normans: CENSORED CENSORED CENSORED DOES CENSORED WITH CENSORED AT CENSORED IN CENSORED. I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. King of Minors, I hope you can live with the babes you got assigned. No changing it now....
 
All hail the wise and fair Edward de Normandie, King of England, Emperor of Byzantium, and Ruler of a Whole Crapload of Other Places! Not to mention distributor of nifty cameos. Thanks!

Edward is really shaping up to be a good ruler. I like him!

Who won that fight, anyway? That fine young Spanish lad, perhaps? :D I'll ignore the indiscretion of calling a Portuguese fellow like me Spanish. ;)
 
Last edited:
great update, even better seeing as I am very hungover, made the day a bit more bearable.

By the way how about throwing some of Geralds old flames my way, King of Minors gets all the action round him.

DAM YOU KOM DAMN YOU!!!
 
Assisting the torturer. I love it! :D And of course, doctors would have the medical knowledge even back then to be able to aid the torturer in selecting the best spots and methods for ahh.. interrogation, yes that's it. *sage nod*
 
Nice update! I loved it! Glad to read that you were able to "fix" the problem with your PC without to much damage being done to you your sanity!

Now, for nice quotes:
Bishop Harold: And what if I said I was really sorry?

Edward: I might tell them not to brick up the door.
:rofl: :rofl: :rofl: :rofl: Now, that's mercy!

Edward: Indeed. It might well be a forgery. However, I have some experts in these matters study the document and they agree it is real.

D. Rexus: I didn't make it, it has to be real!
:D :D
Ah, it's good to be a subject master, it allows one to be quite useful to one's monarch, eh? I'm glad that I could be of service, Your Majesty! ;)

Can we get some screenies showing the full mighty splendor of Eddie's realm? Please?
 
Feedback to Feedback

MrGlaurung: Priceless? 50 quid will do me fine... :D

Meresin:I only know the name as a Welsh one, but you will be back. How do you like your nipple clamps?

Deflare:Well, the winner was.....BBBD, having more experience in dirty fighting. But the only Portuegese noble to declare me just was the hereditarily insane duke of Coimbra and Bragança. How these guys breed...

BBBD: Hmmm, you'll have to ask the King of course... But I'll consider it if he grants permission

Sleepy Irv: Well, addiction is a wonderful thing. Hmm, time for the return of Irving the Somnolent.

Jestor: Well, most doctors are sadistic bastards anyway, but there used to be a very close relationship between the guild of barber-surgeouns (did i spell that right?) and the torturers/executioners. There is a by law from the 12th century forbidding the torturer from pulling teeth or other such operations...

Deus: Well, they are bishops. Actually, St. Catherine's is no joke. It's pretty grim. But if many more bishops had revolted, I would have become sterner... Though it is still a mystery to me why they revolted at all, I had 1000+ piety at the time.

Avernite: Yup and he loves science and the Good Life. What more can you want in king. It's just that hew suffers from rages...

Draco Rexus: I was very happy. Was being the operative word. Sigh. New fan has been ordered... The next update will have inof on Edward's realm and Edward himself. Glad you enjoyed it, more use of the Rexus family will be forthcoming.
 
King of Minors said:
:rofl:
Do you want the complete 5/6ths soul now, Dead William?


Yay! Souls! Haven't had any since Salem! I still have to get an answer from Shy Kid to ask him what he wants for his part. I really should change my sig now... I'll do that tonight.
 
The deed of the transfer of 5/6ths of Henry v. Keiper's (henceforth refered to as HvK) soul:

From:
King of Minors (KoM) (now known as Ciçatrix)

To:
Dead William (Acronym unknown)

Price:
A few appearences of KoM in Dead William's AAR. (Satisfied.)

Therefore, Dead William is now the owner of 5/6ths of HvK's soul, both legally and spiritually ( :D ).

Previous ownership changes of HvK's soul:
From anonumous4401 to KoM
and:
From HvK to anonymous4401.
 
Last edited:
Been reading this for a couple of days now. Great entertainment this is... :D
 
Murmurandus said:
Been reading this for a couple of days now. Great entertainment this is... :D

Aye, that it is. Just started reading it yesterday and got caught up just now.
Not too much left to do now except sit around and wait for the Horde to show up...
 
Feedback to Feedback and status report

Right, first a status report. The AAR is not dead, nor abandoned. I ran into three problems:

1) the fan of my computer failed explosively.
2) I was struck by lethargy in the beautiful summer weather.
3) I had been playing so intently that I forgot to take notes, this meant I had to reconstruct the game from save games and memory.

Anyways, there will be an update this week, the computer having been fixed and my need for sunlight having been filled, the library catalogued and the bathroom cleaned.

Now some thanks and feedback to feedback:

King of Minors: Thanks for all the help in setting up the new sig and the painless transmission of 5/6ths of Henry V. Keiper's soul.

Murmurandus: Glad you like it. Raymond Feist btw?

King of Nines: Welcome to the club! Wherefrom the nick? And how am I supposed to use another king? Have some heart for a poor cameo using writer!

A