The Myriadigamous Adventures of King Knud
As told with many pictures. And few words.
(the quality is low because there's a lot of them. pictures that is. the low quality of the words is all my fault though.)
1355
Bagge Knýtling?
Bagge and Knud. All we need now is a Pole Knýtling and we'll get the whole twigs and berries squared away.
For some reason, he's under Cuman, but that kind of makes sense after my tackle joke.
Meanwhile, my wife becomes ill.
At least, I'm pretty sure she's my wife. She might be my aunt. It's been awhile since I checked.
She might be my wife
and my aunt.
It's the mystery that makes it sexy.
Speaking of things that are like my wife, the last uprising was short and easy.
I'm not sure what to do with all these men now.
. . . and, again, I won't take any suggestions from the peanut gallery.
I know what to do with all these men now.
Abel rises up with a pretty large army of rebels in Murcia.
I'm going to cave his head in with a rock and lie to God about it.
It's not just the Knýtling way. It's in the
bible.
Lope, Nasir, Faste, and Arcibaldo may sound like the cast of
Othello, but I swear they're really my generals.
Oh dear.
Look, it's either treason or stupidity, Inge. You marched your army right into a situation where they're outnumbered.
You've got some 'splaining to do.
Or I guess you could just rock the house.
Ya think?
Actually, I wouldn't call
winning the traditional custom in these parts, but I'll take any booty I can get.
I- I mean duty. Not booty. Booty duty.
Nice save, Knud.