The last update was yet another example of splendidly drunken prose. Gracefully staggering.
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billy bob said:You know there is no picture for the wench. You make me sad.
Don't be. Just read what Kurek wrote:
Kurek said:There, some Mediæval Bæbes. Take your pick.
Though I must admit that the text is hard to read, being so close to the picture, which is rather ... distracting and ... uhm ... yea.
Amusing update, as usual (and long overdue, but who's complaining? Oh wait, I am. Sorry. )
)
Amob_m_s said:(and long overdue, but who's complaining? Oh wait, I am. Sorry.
Every time Amob* complains about the lack of timely updates I shall delay the publication of the next update by One Year! (and also I shall throw up all over the perpetuator) So see you all next year, I guess.
*Or anyone else for that matter. Terms and conditions apply, see in stores for details. Offer ends April 1st 2084.
Sokraates said:Don't be. Just read what Kurek wrote:
Though I must admit that the text is hard to read, being so close to the picture, which is rather ... distracting and ... uhm ... yea.
Err, first time pic didnt show.
Sokraates said:
Sorry, didn't see that first time around.
The game's called Hammer of the Gods, quite a cool strategy game by one of the greatest computer game company's: Holistic Design (who also made Machiavelli The Prince and Emperor of the Fading Suns amongst a few others). Raid and pillage and conquer settlements on either a historic map or random one, play as Vikings (humans) Dwarfs, Elves or Orcs, do quests for the gods, battle sea monsters and other things, er plunder monasteries, gain ass kicking weaponry and awesome sound effects.
Kurek said:Sorry, didn't see that first time around.
The game's called Hammer of the Gods, quite a cool strategy game by one of the greatest computer game company's: Holistic Design (who also made Machiavelli The Prince and Emperor of the Fading Suns amongst a few others). Raid and pillage and conquer settlements on either a historic map or random one, play as Vikings (humans) Dwarfs, Elves or Orcs, do quests for the gods, battle sea monsters and other things, er plunder monasteries, gain ass kicking weaponry and awesome sound effects.
Ah, yes, Holistic Design. I occasionally still play their Warhammer 40K-game, Final Liberation. A good game with rather old graphics and the best FMVs ever (heck, it's Warhammer after all).
Thank you for the link. I think I'll just have to give it a try.
Ah I recall Final Liberation me and my friends used to play it hotseat style on my PC, one of the finest Warhammer games ever made, along with the fantasy Shadow of the Horned Rat. They don't make 'em like they used to.
"Shadow of the Horned Rat"??? Tragically, I seem to have missed out on that one. Really, it saddens me. I'm weeping right now at the horror of it. Not getting the whole "horned rat" experience and whatnot.
Not sad at all about never getting the "horny rat" experience, though. That would just be plain wrong.
Not sad at all about never getting the "horny rat" experience, though. That would just be plain wrong.
Amob_m_s said:Not sad at all about never getting the "horny rat" experience, though. That would just be plain wrong.
Though you must admit that he's quite a looker, right? :wacko:
Anyway, search Wikipedia and you will not only find information on the game but also a link to Home of the Underdogs from where you can download it.
Though I must admit that I prefer Dark Omen. Ah ... the good times.
A Year and Two Months: The Epic of Serbia
Consisting of One Year, Two Months, Three Weeks and Three Days of unparalleled drama! excitement! epic battles! intrigue! love and betrayal!
Life and Death.
Consisting of One Year, Two Months, Three Weeks and Three Days of unparalleled drama! excitement! epic battles! intrigue! love and betrayal!
Life and Death.
Scene: Somewhere in Greece
"Long live the King!" shouted a small band of well wishers and the like.
King Ðurad was happy. Yes you read that folks, he was happy. Well maybe not happy per se, but at the very least he could be considered to be not miserable or depressed or fretting over his personal demise. And of course it was a lovely day, blue skies, fluffy little white clouds, a gentle breeze and all that, and to top it off the war wasn't going that badly, well not as bad as he fought it would. A month had passed since the victory feast of the earlier great battle, when brave Serbs (and maybe some Magyars, but the Serbian Nobles tended to downplay their rôle somewhat) had repelled the barbarous heathens from their lands, and now they marched triumphantly into Ottoman territories. It was agreed that the Magyars would attack into Bulgaria whilst the Serbian army would march south into Macedonia (Well not quite so much agreed as the Magyar's buggered off in that direction leaving the rich plains of Macedonia unguarded and ready for Serb Rapine and Slaughter!), hopefully then the two armies would defeat all that stood before them and march onto the eternal city itself, Constantinople. Therapun they shall slaughter the Sultan's army, install some sort of Emperor and all shall be well! At least that was the plan...
Old Kingy and his entourage (nobles, priests, mercenary captains, general hanger-on-ers, squires, assistants, fine wenches and all that) were assembled at the top of a rather fine hill overlooking the Greek countryside, a make shift chapel was being constructed, almost finished and a special service was to be held, which promised to be long and boring, the King sighed and surveyed the scene at the foot of the hill. The army was setting up camp for the night and raiding parties were, as we speak, ravaging the lands for forage and most probably any plunder they could lay there hands on and raping everything that had a ho... no wait that's too crude, er, establishing diplomatic relations with the local population authority figures. All around were the peaceful and calm sounds of a jubilant army, mostly incomprehensible drinking songs about how General Postek was a total wanker, the sounds of throwing up and the screams of... screams of joy yes... of females from certain quarters, bands were playing... something because it could not be considered music of any form, (even drone metal enthusiasts would stop and stare in wonderment). So just your general military noise.
Ðurad and his crew were assembled in a make shift church, of course the King didn't want to be there, he had much better things to do like whoring and drinking and the like but his wife insisted, saying how he had much to atone for and crap like that, so off he went to listen to the boring priest ramble on about how great the day was and how thankful everyone should be to his glorious and gracious Lord, etc. etc. Luckily there were a number of fine wenches for the King to 'admire' from a distance, although his wife noticed this a few times and delivered a few quick sharp digs into his ribs from time to time and distributed the most evil looks. So the King sat there, bored as hell, yawning away when he finally had enough.
"Bugger this." He yawned and stood up.
"Ðurad Sit back down this instance!" Eirene Kantakouzene (wife) hissed, trying to drag him back.
"But I'm bored!" he snapped back.
The Priest had stopped his priesting for a moment and everyone stared at the couple as the argument continued.
"Well you shouldn't be!"
"Who cares what this bloody priest has to say!"
"You bloody well should, did you even hear what he was preaching?!"
"No, and frankly I care not!"
"Well you should've! He was just saying how all cowards shall be cast before our lord at judgement day and shall not receive repentance" she smiled as she said this. "A topic that you should pay particular attention to my liege."
The crowd grasped, rumours certainly had spread quicker than shit from a mechanised fertiliser doodad about how the King was a total pussy but no one had voiced or even made innuendo's to such affect in public, at least not around the King himself. Ðurad shirked away and looked around for a target.
"You!" He shouted at the priest.
"Ye-yes my Lord?" stuttered the elderly man of God.
"Repeat what you said!" Snapped the King.
"Cer-certainly my Lord." He flipped his book back a page, cleared his throat and repeated.
"The Lord smiles upon the heroes of the land, but he is filled with rage by those cowards who shirk in their duties and flee, or even contemplate such a foul act before his divine mercy! Let him whose heart has no trust in the divine plans of our Lord be cast into the depths of hell, and may his testicles be gnawed upon by foul demons with pointy sticks, sticks that are used for purposes which I shall not elaborate upon here for there are females present... Lo! Pity the fool but not the Coward, for the Coward shall get what he deserves!" He ended the speech with a thump on the makeshift stand, causing a few people who had drifted asleep to jump in astonishment, one of the sleepers actually fell out of his chair and landed in the bosom of a rather greatly endowed female, and then spent the next minute trying (or rather not) to get out before he was dragged out by a rather irate husband of the said wench.
The King glared at the Priest. "What do you mean by this?" He demanded, a vein on his head started to throb, the priest stared at it, fascinated by the pulsations. "Well!" Snapped the King and the Priest muttered "S-s-sorry my liege!" he once more stammered, "What did I-I mean?"
"Yes" Roared King Ðurad . "What the bloody hell were you implying eh?"
"Nothing! Nothing! my Lord!" The Priest cried as he flung himself at the feet of the rather irate King.
Ðurad turned around to face the crowd and glared at them. "I know of what talk goes on behind my back!" he spat out, literally, the front row had to wipe their faces clean. "Ol' King Ðurad is a coward, The Old Fool cries and runs at the first scent of trouble..." most of the crowd stared on in silence, they had not heard the King talk (well yell) like this before, a small child started to cry. "Yes I know! And you know what?" He paused for dramatic effect.
The pause was probably a bit too long.
Yes it most definitely was, someone coughed.
"I'll tell you!" He screamed, his face rather red by now. "It's true!" His wife sighed and tried to hide her shame with her hands. "Yes I'm a coward, I'm a piss poor King! But I don't need this bloody Priest telling me so because I bloody well know so! And sod this religion crap! Where the F**k was this God when thousands of f**king Turks over-ran Christian f**king lands eh? Where the f**k was this f**king god when my f**king father forced me to F**king marry that f**king thing!" He pointed at his wife who stood up outraged and was about to speak when he King pushed her back down. "Be seated bitch!" The crowd gasped! Some of the more decent folk had retreated out of ear shot of the language and sacrilege but the crowd in the makeshift chapel was actually larger now, for people had heard the commotion and came to enjoy the show. "And you know what the f**k else?!" He shouted, advancing on the Priest. "I don't need your f**king God anymore, I renounce him!" The Priest yelled out allowed and prostrated himself crying "Have forgiveness Lord! Have Forgiveness! He does not know what he says! He is infected with Demons! Lord have... urgh!" he was cut short by a swift kick to the nads. The Priest lay on the floor moaning as the King stormed out of the chapel, the crowds swiftly parted to let him through. The beautiful clear sky was rapidly becoming dull and grey, in the distance rumbles of thunder were heard promising rain to come.
The King stood atop the hill and raised his arms towards the sky. "I damn thee!" He yelled, a even larger crowd had gathered around including a bunch of drunks led by Prince Lazar the Kings son and a number of nobles, swigging wine from bottles and laughing merrily. The Priest ran out of the chapel, (well more like hobbled out clutching his groin) and ran (hobbled) over to the King. Gritting his teeth and bearing the testicular pain, the Priest stood to his full height (not very impressive as he was quite old and wasn't really that tall to begin with) and stared the King right in his eyes.
"Speak not in vain of the lord!" He shouted, (in a higher than normal pitched voice it may be noted.) "And beg forgiveness from the lord!"
"Piss off!" was the swift reply.
"What did you say!" Yelled the Priest, the King flinched, his anger was subduing somewhat and his cowardly demeanour was returning. "You foul profaner of life!" Yelled the priest again, and he hit him with a stick, the crowed grasped once more, (well Kings son laughed his ass off, so did a few others and some soldiers that had gathered around) The King cried out in pain, "Beg for mercy!" Cried the priest. "Pray that the Lord in his infinite wisdom shall accept you into his grace once more! Cry out for forgiveness! For ye shall surely be damned for eternity if you continue along this path that you have chosen!" The King cowered in fear. "Accept the love of his Lord and re-enter into his light so you can find your way out of the darkness! Be gone foul demons that have plagued thee! Be gone!" He beat the King a few more times, Ðurad dodged out of the way, anger resuming.
"F*Ck OFF!" He yelled, the Priest whacked him once more, the King was red as the fiery pits of hell, veins throbbing all over his face, he advanced upon the Priest and raised his hand, poised to strike him, the Priest opened his mouth in shock and quickly raised a crucifix in front of his face to protect himself, Ðurad stared at the cross... his eyes suddenly widened and he froze... a beam of light had broken through the now dense clouds and illuminated the land around the King, the crowed stepped back in fear and wonderment, the King fell to his knees, his hand still raised, eyes and mouth wide open, a tear leaking from his eye. The Priest followed the King down, still keeping the cross held in front and muttering prayers rapidly. Ðurad's arms fell to his side, his face became pale and his head fell to face the ground.
"Praise the Lord" shouted the Priest and the crowed returned the cheer. "For he has shown our King the true path!" he continued, feeling rather glad that he managed to save the Kings soul and also his own ass from being kicked, he leant forward and kissed the top of the Kings head. The King promptly fell over and lay on the ground clutching his chest and gasping. The crowed once more gasped (quite dependable for doing so as you may have noticed) and crowded around (crowding is one of things that a crowd does best), the Priest stood up, "Fear not!" He called, he is merely overawed with awe and wonder! You would be to if the Lord has chosen to reveal to you his great truths!" he shouted, looking around.
Prince Lazar walked over to his father and stared at him for a while, meanwhile the Priest led the crowd in a prayer of thanks. lazar nudged Ðurad with his toe, gained no response and managed to flip him over using his foot, the King's face was locked in a terrible grimace, his eyes stared out into oblivion and there was no movement at all, the Prince knelt down next to his old man, leant over his head and listened to his breathing, it was extremely shallow, he stared at the King who finally managed to look his son in the eye. "Son..." he was barely audible over the Priests ranting, but the Prince leant in closer. "Yes you old drunk?" the Prince slurred, his breath stinking of cheap booze. "Son... I hate you." Prince smirked, "Grand final words old chum, anything else to say?" "Only this...." The King closed his eyes and uttered his final words: "Oh shit."
The Prince remained by his fathers side for a couple of minutes, poking and pushing and doing all sorts of quaint medieval medical type stuff, about which I know nothing of, the priest and crowd had by now stopped their prayers and song (aside from a couple of drunks who were singing an entirely different song anyhow) and looked at the Priest.
"Is the King all right?" asked the Priest.
"Yes he is doing rather super" replied Lazar.
"Are you sure?"
"Quite damned well sure." The prince picked up the small crown from the ground next to the Kings head and placed it atop his own head (although at a rather crooked angle), he opened his arms in a welcoming posture and shouted;
"The King is Dead! Long Live the King! King Lazar!"
****
Yes it's that bloody AAR that refuses to die peacefully!
That's like five months or something since the last one? Awesome. Another crap and poorly written update with my terrible sense of humour and far too much swearing, and me just making it up as I go along pretty much now
Well the basic notes for this update was written down months back, luckily it did survive two reformats and I stumbled across it today when looking for stuff to back up as I format yet again (this time to remove this bloody Vista, argh). Anyway, enjoy it if you are twisted enough, maybe someone will notice it KUREK OUT!
Yay! More poorly written, cheap comedy should-have-been-dead-by-now crap! Keep 'em coming!
Onozeh King Durad
Long live the new king
And let the next update be written under drunken circumstances.
Long live the new king
And let the next update be written under drunken circumstances.
Dying peacefully is so yesterday. Fortunately, King Durad is ... was a modern fellow. Now if only we could get some pictures of his afterlife.
It's good to see this AAR continue. And frankly, I'd gladly wait another few months for another update of this quality (gluton for punishment, some might say).
It's good to see this AAR continue. And frankly, I'd gladly wait another few months for another update of this quality (gluton for punishment, some might say).
A Year and Two Months: The Epic of Serbia
Consisting of One Year, Two Months, Three Weeks and Three Days of unparalleled drama! excitement! epic battles! intrigue! love and betrayal!
Only the Good Die Young
Consisting of One Year, Two Months, Three Weeks and Three Days of unparalleled drama! excitement! epic battles! intrigue! love and betrayal!
Only the Good Die Young
Scene: Somewhere in Greek Macedonia
It wasn't a bright and cheerful day. The sun wasn't shining down upon the not so glorious landscape, infact it was pissing it down. The landscape was bleak and dreary, hills, rocks, a bit of scrub bush here and there, a small river or two etching its way shallowly through the rough land. Over there you may spot a tree, but it is a sad tree, all drooping, leaning to one side due to the adverse affect of years upon years of wind and hardly a leaf upon it. It is one of those trees that no self respecting bird would lower itself to construct even the merest of nests. Now we pan across to the left and we spy a small valley. We spot two small dots moving ever so slowly down the valley. The camera zooms in. Now the dots are people, well that is if I can get away with using that noun to describe these two. Yes for it was our old friends the slightly obese Stjepan and the short and rat-like Janko, and what a sorry sight these two made. Granted that they were not much to look at to begin with but the past months had not been kind to them.
Where had they been during all of the excitement, the battles and sieges and the deaths of once mighty kings? Well I'm glad that you asked that, but I believe that our two dear friends are, as they always seem to be doing recently, arguing about that very subject at this moment. Let us eavesdrop in on their conversation.
“You swarmy little shit.” Stjepan groaned, and even that groan was half hearted for he had lost all will of living and everything recently, and the arguments were the same as they were every other day, rehearsed to perfection word by word.
“Piss off you donkey lover.” retorted Janko with about as much enthusiasm as his partner.
“You rapist of bovine-kind and father of dog headed men.” came the meagre riposte.
“Cowardly king of yellow bellies”
“Now wait there mister!” yelled Stjepan, “It wasn't me that got us into this mess, wasn't me that shat a brick and fled at the sight of our own bloody allies, it wasn't me that dragged us all through hell and back avoiding our own bloody armies rearguards to avoid being bloody labelled as bloody deserters and being bloody castrated or what-bloody-ever!”
“I didn't ask for your bloody fat ass to follow me!” sneered the ratman.
“And where would you have been if I hadn't eh? Eh?”he underlined his point by infact pointing at Janko in his boney chest (the armour had long been pawned off for food) with a fat finger.
“Don't you bloody well poke me or I'll poke you in yer balls, that is if I can bloody find them you shaven eunuch.”
This went on for a while and I shan't bore you all with the minor details. After they had tired each other out with their fresh bout of insults they continued walking in silence, getting more and more drenched.
“Pissing rain.” mumbled Stjepan.
“Don't you bloody start again, God! You're like a bloody woman!”
“And what would you know about women eh?” Stjepan smirked.
“Quit a lot actually, more 'an you, being all bloody tied down with a wife an' all.” Janko spat with disgust. “Not like me, for I'm as free as a bird now, and this bird you cannot stop fuc...”
Stjepan laughed, a great bellowing roar, tears actually welled up in his eyes. “You!” he finally managed to wheeze out. “You!.... hilarious.”
“Piss off!”
“The only woman you've ever known” Stjepan began, winking and leering at the same time “was your...”
“If you mention my mother one more time I swear that I will rip your bloody eyes out and shove them up your arse!” Janko growled dangerously, he had heard enough said about his mother to last several life times over and he wasn't taking any more of it.
“Oh really?”
“Yes.”
“So... ahem... what do you know of the arts of love?” he asked and then answered himself “Bugger all, thats it!”
“Piss off, what about that wench we stayed at? Eh?!”
“She wasn't even bloody concious you fool!”
“So?”
Stjepan shook his head and sighed.
“And you had to bloody pay her for that, pissed away yet more of my bloody money I must add, all that loot from the field of battle, God knows what possessed me to come after you, but I bloody well did, and now all that loot is gone and we have bugger all left, the only reason I didn't leave you weeks ago was that the fear of the bloody Sergeant and what he will do to me when he finally finds me is hell of a lot more than the repulsive feelings and general sickness I feel when I am within your vicinity!” Stjepan spat and stared stolidly ahead.
“Tch.” was all that Janko could say in reply to that, for truth be told they needed each other, on their own they would of died many a day back, or been captured, or waylaid by brigands or god knows what, hell now they didn't even know where they were walking too, just forwards. The army was moving South, so they were too, trailing behind by a fair few miles, they had met other stragglers but they were usually heading in the other direction, back to Serbia. The news that they had brought with them was mixed at best.
The army was advancing unopposed, laying siege to many small Greek towns and defeating small garrison forces, news also told that the Hungarians were being victorious in the land of the Bulgars, but rumours were roaming wild that the Turks were amassing forces to the East, yet no one knew where they would strike. A few Serbs, fearful that they would head West decided to bugger off back home, but despite all of this our two miscreants headed South.
They had nowhere else to go, and they were practically starving, so South they trudged, through hills and rough land. At nights they could see the glows of the camp fires in the distance, whilst they usually huddled under a tree or bush, or more often than not, shivered in the cold and rain as they tried sleeping on the stern and hard ground out in the open. Still fear kept them back, but shame kept them going, and each others insults and complaints had somehow driven them to somehow survive. But they were tired and weary and as night settled down they did not care that the main army camp was closer than usual and as they lay down in a small hollow to rest their heads for the night after a meagre meal of berries and mushrooms.
They were so tired that they did not hear the noises of footfall slowly coming closer and closer, did not notice the glare of the torch, did not notice when an armed band of four men sneaked into their sleeping hollow, were not aware of anything until they were both grabbed by two strong men and a voiced growled into their ears.
“Janko! Stjepan! We thought that you were bloody well lost, the generals have been up all night crying over how they had lost two of their finest men! But lo and behold! I have found you my little darlings, and now we shall take you back and think how delighted the generals will be when I tell them that the two shining examples of chivalry and honour have been recovered, why I'm sure they'll whip up a nice little extra treat for you two little shits!”
After the blindness caused by the sudden glare of the flames from the torch left their sleepy eyes and the shock of the situation eased somewhat they looked up into the face of the person they wished to see least of all. Their sergeant.
“Oh shit.” our two friends uttered together.
***
Gods know where I was going with this one, just wanted a two soldiers story bit and I just rambled on and it's probably a bunch of shite but I don't care and I can't be assed to re-read it or proof read it so here it is ready to be inflicted upon your poor souls.
Expect another update when you see it my mass multitude of loyal and raving fans. (Yes I like to kid myself
)
I'm a shameless whore for bumping my own AAR but here I am! In my defense I am rather drunk so er yeah! READ IT BITCHES!... and so forth. And in unrelated news fish fingers are bloody awesome after a litre bottle of cidre and two bottles of win. And that's a Kurekfact.