The transposition is toe-curling for some reason . Fantastical in a very fun way , I think it's expertly translated XD
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Crusader Kings III Available Now!
The realm rejoices as Paradox Interactive announces the launch of Crusader Kings III, the latest entry in the publisher’s grand strategy role-playing game franchise. Advisors may now jockey for positions of influence and adversaries should save their schemes for another day, because on this day Crusader Kings III can be purchased on Steam, the Paradox Store, and other major online retailers.
"Colonel Van Moordenaar, I should have known. Only you can be so bold. The British resident will not stand for this, when they hear you've attacked a diplomatic..."
This (Like everything else.) is a blatant rip off isn't it? Leia says the same thing to Darth Vader in New Hope.
But it's great! I wonder who Palpatine will be...
This (Like everything else.) is a blatant rip off isn't it? Leia says the same thing to Darth Vader in New Hope.
But it's great! I wonder who Palpatine will be...
How about a zombified Prince Albert, kept alive by a steam-powered machine and force of will? :rofl:
After reading the last part again, may I suppose another nickname for Lucas? El Dutcherino or His Dutchness :rofl:
...and now for some feedback...
Tell me about it. You should see our road system...Too little isles you have.
It's like you're a mind reader...Not the princess! I mean duchess
I'm afraid I've already got his name sorted. But stayed tuned - I've got a plans for "People From AARLand in and AAR Type of AAR" soon...Han Solo's name never made sense in Star Wars, so it does not necessarily need a meaning here. So I suggest I become Han Solo in this AAR, one of the biggest heroes of my faulty childhood
I'm glad you're enjoying it, and I hope what I do with various things continues to amuse!Dammit I wanted to ask the same ^^. I wonder how chewie will look like perhaps a chinese or indian ruffian with a cut out tongue.
MAn this truly is Boer Wars simply great. Keep the updates coming
It is a fairly recent thing - prior to that you were all shifty eyed merchants
Hopefully I'll have a few more of these coming for you
Thank you very much, sir!
I don't believe she EVER mentions the British Resident - therefore I'm being hugely original
Don't be giving me ideas
Part 5
It was a ridiculously hot day in Groot Slaperig. The sun had lazily made its way to the highest point in the cloudless, azure sky and was now sitting there, smugly baking anyone or anything foolish enough to be out and about. A few dogs lay seemingly comatose in the little shade afforded by the general store's awnings and a lone cat was sprawled languorously on a nearby porch, too hot to even bother swiping at the various small birds that occasionally fluttered past.
These animals, however, appeared positively animated and full of the joys of spring in comparison to the four teenagers that were listlessly flopped on the benches that served as Groot Slaperig's town centre. The sheer intensity of the rays belting down from the heavens had caused a strange reaction in them - multiplying their natural adolescent lethargy by a power of ten. It was almost as if they were incapable of any action whatsoever. Anyone else foolish enough to be out walking in this heat would probably have assumed that the four figures stretched out on the long, wooden benches were dead. It was only the occasional sigh that that they let out that gave any indication of life.
Eventually one of them, a short, dark-haired girl called Rina (1), raised herself onto her elbows and stated the obvious.
"Guys. I'm bored."
Big Piet (2) pulled himself into something half-way resembling a sitting position and stretched.
"We're all bored Rina."
"I know. But I thought that if I'd said it - then maybe that would kick start one of you into coming up with a brilliant idea."
Piet snorted - a coarse noise that sounded a bit like a horse clearing its nostrils.
"Nê? Well, it certainly is the weather for sitting around exercising the old grey matter isn't it? How about we all sit up and try and come up with ways to keep Rina amused?"
"Piet, don't start..."
"Hey! Susan (3)! Jurie (4)! Wake up! Rina's bored! She needs something to do! Don't just lay their on the benches being comfortable! Sit up and think of someway to keep her entertained!"
Rina got to her feet and glared furiously at Piet.
"You're such a doos, do you know that?!?"
"Oooh. What's wrong, princess? Am I not tending to your every need? Am I not bowing to your every whim?"
"Stop doing that whiny voice - I hate it when you do that voice!"
"Yeah? Well you must hate your own voice, because that's what you sound like...ALL THE TIME!"
"Why you..."
"Yoh! Guys! Can it!", Jurie broke the empasse. "I think our boredom has come to an end."
He gestured off into the distance. Rina and Piet ceased glaring at each other and even Susan raised her head momentarily to follow Jurie's outstretched arm. Coming down the street towards them was Lucas Lugstapper, whistling happily to himself. Rina started jumping up and down, waving frantically.
"Hey! Dutchie! Over here!"
Lucas saw the four figures and, like an excited puppy with no sense of self preservation, bounded towards them.
1. Rina was short, dark and very beautiful. Usually this would mean that all of the boys her age (and a few "boys" of less than reputable morals quite a bit older than her) would be fighting for her attention. However, Groot Slaperig is a small town, so it doesn't take long for one to cemement a reputation. And when that reputation is for being as volatile as a box of fireworks that has been cast into an open fire any would-be suitors have a tendancy to evaporate into thin air. Naturally this lack of attention did nothing to improve Rina's mood. Some might see this a tradegic, self-defeating cycle. Others would see it as being a fit and proper fate for this particularly indignant little madam.
2. Piet - or Big Piet as he was locally known - was a monster of a teenager, standing almost six feet four and with biceps the size of most other people's heads. His father was one of the wealthier farmers in the community; not having to hire additional farm hands due to Piet's massive size and stamina would do that. Piet liked to think of himself as the leader of the small group of teenagers that regularly hung around in Groot Slaperig and his sheer imposing size meant that no-one ever really stood up to him. However, like most people who liked to throw their weight around Piet was a craven coward, but so far he had never been put in a situation where this fact had come to light. He also liked to collect pictures of unicorns and that too had never come to light.
3. Susan was a grimy kid of indeterminate gender. If it wasn't for the fact that she wore a dress and was called Susan most of the other residents of the town would be hard pushed to tell whether she was a boy or a girl (and indeed there were whisperings that her parents had dearly wanted a girl/boy and had therefore brought up the poor boy/girl as a girl/boy - delete as approriate depending on who is telling the story). Thin and lanky with short hair and a bony body, she always gave the impression of being filthy, even when she had just bathed. There are children like this everywhere in the world and nobody is quite sure how they get that way.
4. Jurie was ordinarily the most hyperactive teenager in Groot Slaperig (sun not withstanding). With the resting heart rate of a serial killer who has just learned that there is a sale on at the local Power Tools and Rubber Sheeting emporium, Jurie normally rushed around the town at a speed of knots, trying to be helpful by running errands for anyone that needed errands running. Unfortuantely his overactive disposition meant that he got things muddled easily, and as a result his services weren't often called upon. Needless to say, having such a hyperactive boy with nothing to down running around town was a recipie for disaster.
Well, at least for us dutch\flemish\afrikaans speakers, it should have come as no suprise that Darth Vader was the father of Luke Skywalker, as his name tells it all. Vader meaning Father in dutch\flemish\afrikaans, just pronounced differently.
And I like the steampunk Vader.
And I like the steampunk Vader.
Hmm ... interesting little spritely characters and of course Lucas will be funny to watch as the translation continues . The great thing is , though , it doesn't 'feel' like a translation which is the best part XD these characters have a spirit of their own .
I have decided to nominate you as this week's Character Writer of the Week, congratulations and hope there will be more updates soon.
The updates are continuously excellent :rofl:
However, could you be so kind as to spend less time expounding on the absurd ethnic relations of the British Isles and a little more explaining why you all seem to hate ginger-haired people. I mean, you have it so that one of the reasons why Lugstapper is bullied is the fact that he's a bearer of the ginge.
However, could you be so kind as to spend less time expounding on the absurd ethnic relations of the British Isles and a little more explaining why you all seem to hate ginger-haired people. I mean, you have it so that one of the reasons why Lugstapper is bullied is the fact that he's a bearer of the ginge.
Gingers don't have souls. Duh.
JK, I have no idea why exactly gingers are bullied. Maybe because they're too white?
Im sad to say it, but Ive never read Canonized's AAR. When I subscribed, it was already exceeding 200 pages (I Think), and I started it, but as it was very heavy, and as it had no connection between the parts as far as I could see, and as it didnt teach me new stuff about the game, I gave up after 5 pages.
Good going by the way. Looking forward to see what happens.
Good going by the way. Looking forward to see what happens.
I watched the video accompanying this AAr, had a great laugh, being British. Showed it to my girlfriend, being South African, she had a great laugh. Then we laughed some together, and now I shall subscribe and read the AAr
You'd be hard pushed NOT to find boredom in Groot Slaperig. It's what makes the native incursions so fun...What have we here?
Boredom?
Tempting as it is to nick that, I'll leave him alone - for the moment. Great pciture though!I believe you're talking about Lord Vader...Steampunk edition. Oh, yeaaaah.
The steampunk Vader is VERY cool. As for dutch/afrikaans I'll try and pop in some more linguistic jokes for you
And we can snigger in secret at all of those who aren't as bi-lingually blessed as us.
Thank you very much - that's the intention and I'm glad it shows! Carbon copies would be no fun!
Thank you VERY much. Awards like this are always very much appreciated. I'm very glad that even at this early stage the characters are proving to be entertaining.I have decided to nominate you as this week's Character Writer of the Week, congratulations and hope there will be more updates soon.
More updates will follow shortly!
Thank you very much. I'm waiting for the "but"
Ah - there it is! Firstly our ethnic relations are eminently sensible (to us). Secondly, *I* don't hate gingers. Nothing wrong with them. In fact, I used to have a bit of a soft spot for Gillian Anderson. Cute AND she could do hard sums. Rrrrr. However, originally Lucas tried out for the role that Marius is currently playing, but the rest of my characters got together and informed me that there was no way they could take a ginge seriously in the role of a meanacing villain and instead they demanded - to a man - that he take the role of happless, bullied loser.
Sorry man - but you can take it up with them.
Oi! You're not one of my characters. Or are you? Blimey. You might be. And you've become sentient. ARGH!
It's VERY good and VERY well written - well worth sticking with!
Glad you're enjoying it. More Oranje maddness following shortly!
Consider yourself welcome! Glad to have you aboard.
Aww. My AAR is bringing happiness and joy to people's home lives? I feel all warm and fluffy!I watched the video accompanying this AAr, had a great laugh, being British. Showed it to my girlfriend, being South African, she had a great laugh. Then we laughed some together, and now I shall subscribe and read the AAr
Right - new update to follow very soon. However, in the mean time, why not leap over (heroically if you want) to the VictAARian Cross thread and vote? It's a tremendous achievement finishing an AAR so the writers there deserve a bit of recognition for what they've achieved. There's some good 'uns there so your reading won't be wasted!
As promised...
The Brigadier's office was a patchy blend of military austerity, colonial luxury and aristocratic excess. Campaign maps fought for wall space with the mounted heads of various soon-to-be endangered species, whilst on a nearby table, manila envelopes containing reports from the front were piled alongside a cake stand and china tea set. A large, ebony wardrobe - elegantly carved and wider than it was tall - dominated the far wall with the sort of overbearing, self-important grandeur that is generally only found in members of the aristocracy and seriously large, ornate pieces of furniture. Its door was slightly ajar and within, alongside the neatly pressed red jackets with the high collars and shiny gold epaulets, were gleaming white safari suits and severe, black dinner jackets. Overhead, a lone ceiling fan was fighting a valiant, but losing, battle against the intense, sticky heat (1); it's incessant whump, whump, whump the only noise in an otherwise silent room.
Dirk Krugar - representative of the Bloemfontein government - was presently cursing that fan and it's feeble efforts to cool the room. A hardy Boer who was used to rugged farm life, Krugar felt utterly out of place in this overly ornate office and even more uncomfortable in the dress suit that the Free State's government had insisted he wear in his dealings with Brigadier Menzies-Campbell. However, the discomfort that the alien surroundings and the penguin suit he wore brought were nothing compared to the unease and pain that the document he carried caused him. A peace offer for the Empire - complete with financial reparations and the surrender of the lands to the north-east of Natal - lands which the Oranje Vrystaat had seized from the Zulus many years before; lands that were bought with the blood of Boers just like him.
Like an irritating mosquito with an insatiable appetite, this peace settlement stung at Krugar's pride. Was it not the Empire that was the aggressor here – claiming a "humanitarian mission" to steamroller the lands of the Transvaal and the Free State? Why should they have to compensate this vast, all-conquering bully when it was they who had been wronged? Moments of reflection like this always bore with them the same, painful answer - you appease them, Dirk, because the British Empire is all-conquering and vast...
In front of him, seated in a plush Winchester armchair, was Brigadier Menzies-Carmichael. At present he appeared to be ignoring Krugar and was instead concentrating, glassy-eyed, on the smoke rising from the end of the massive, bloated cigar which he was smoking. Eventually the Boer gave a gentle cough that caused the Brigadier to snap himself out of his reverie, refocus his eyes and turn, smiling to face Krugar. He motioned with his hand in that universal gesture meaning "gimmee".
"Right then, let's get this over with, what? That envelope - give it here man and let me see what you unruly farmers are proposing, hmm?"
Stiff-backed and resisting the urge to reach out and slap the pompous Briton, Krugar handed over the envelope and watched as the Brigadier tore it open like an excited child with a birthday card which he knew contained money. With a deft gesture Farquhar dragged the letter free from the shredded envelope, unfolded it and started to read, his eyes darting back and forth as he scanned the page. Occasionally he let out a little snort of indignation or gave a slightly sinister chuckle but eventually he finished reading, crumpled up the letter into a ball and threw it over his shoulder. He leant forward in his chair and scowled, his mood noticeably blackening.
"Do you mean to mock me, Afrikaaner?"
Krugar blanched.
"Brigadier - please be assured that the offer outlined in my government's communication is serious in the extreme. We are offering significant territorial concessions, not to mention paying stiff financial reparations. Believe me when I say there's nothing humourous in that letter's contents."
Farquhar growled.
"Don't play games with me, Boer. That treaty is worth nothing as it stands. You know it and I know it.
He's mad whispered Krugar's inner voice. Dirk was sure it sounded scared.
"I'm not sure I understand. The terms of our surrender are quite clearly outlined. The British Empire stands to gain considerably from the armistice. If you take a look..."
The Brigadier brought his fist down on the arm of his chair with a sharp crack, and when he next spoke his voice had the mad intensity of a brewing storm.
"Where...are...the....pigs?"
Kruger tugged at his collar. Nothing in his briefing had prepared him for this.
"Pigs... Er...what?"
"The pigs - you know what I mean, what? Those pigs you use. Evil little bastards. Sitting in the bush. Sniping at my soldiers. Secretive, covert wee buggers. Shoot you between the eyes soon as oink at you, hmm? Ring any bells?"
"Sir...with respect...I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Don't play games with me you rebellious farm-dwelling primitive!"; the Brigadier's voice was a frantic, shrill, yell. "You know bloody well what I'm talking about! Your government knows what I'm talking about! And until these attacks by your paramilitary livestock cease there will never be any peace between our people! War is an ugly and evil thing - but when one side starts using dumb animals as assassins the move the conflict to an altogether different level."
The beads of sweat forming on his brow were now noticeable and Krugar cursed himself for it. There was no negotiating with madness like this, but he had to try - if only for the sake of everyone back home.
"Brigadier. I'm not sure what to say. I was sent here with a message - a message of peace and..."
The Brigadier smiled nastily.
"You want to send a message? Do you? Tell you what - you can send your message..." he paused dramatically before yanking the huge lever beside his chair "...to my CROCODILES!"
Krugar had just enough time to stare at the Brigadier in complete and utter disbelief before there was a rumbling of gears and the floor beneath him flipped downwards on massive hinges, sending him flailing and flapping into the dark void beneath the Brigadier's office. As the floor closed shut there was a moment or two of silence, followed by a splash and a scream. Farquhar settled back into his chair, steepled his fingers and smiled slyly.
"Feast on him my pretties", he hissed. "Feast on him."
1. It was so hot that the room's normally active population of mini-beasts were doing the their equivalent of "chillin' by da pool". The family of bloated, greasy flies that normally buzzed around annoyingly, evading even the most fearsome swatting attempts were perched upon the mounted head of a particularly sad looking lion - no doubt waiting for the Brigadier to finish with afternoon tea so that they could descend upon the cake crumbs with gusto - whilst the two spiders whose webs occupied either corner of the room had ceased criticizing the design of each others home and were instead just hanging there, doubtlessly weighing up the pay-off-to-effort of trying to lure the flies into their webs. Brownback Barry - the room's only snake - had slid under the wardrobe - too hot and tired to even bother with his favourite trick of hiding amidst some discarded clothing and frightening the servants that came to collect it with some particularly scary hissing. It was simply too hot to make even their frightened yelpings seem worth the effort.
Part 6
The Brigadier's office was a patchy blend of military austerity, colonial luxury and aristocratic excess. Campaign maps fought for wall space with the mounted heads of various soon-to-be endangered species, whilst on a nearby table, manila envelopes containing reports from the front were piled alongside a cake stand and china tea set. A large, ebony wardrobe - elegantly carved and wider than it was tall - dominated the far wall with the sort of overbearing, self-important grandeur that is generally only found in members of the aristocracy and seriously large, ornate pieces of furniture. Its door was slightly ajar and within, alongside the neatly pressed red jackets with the high collars and shiny gold epaulets, were gleaming white safari suits and severe, black dinner jackets. Overhead, a lone ceiling fan was fighting a valiant, but losing, battle against the intense, sticky heat (1); it's incessant whump, whump, whump the only noise in an otherwise silent room.
Dirk Krugar - representative of the Bloemfontein government - was presently cursing that fan and it's feeble efforts to cool the room. A hardy Boer who was used to rugged farm life, Krugar felt utterly out of place in this overly ornate office and even more uncomfortable in the dress suit that the Free State's government had insisted he wear in his dealings with Brigadier Menzies-Campbell. However, the discomfort that the alien surroundings and the penguin suit he wore brought were nothing compared to the unease and pain that the document he carried caused him. A peace offer for the Empire - complete with financial reparations and the surrender of the lands to the north-east of Natal - lands which the Oranje Vrystaat had seized from the Zulus many years before; lands that were bought with the blood of Boers just like him.
Like an irritating mosquito with an insatiable appetite, this peace settlement stung at Krugar's pride. Was it not the Empire that was the aggressor here – claiming a "humanitarian mission" to steamroller the lands of the Transvaal and the Free State? Why should they have to compensate this vast, all-conquering bully when it was they who had been wronged? Moments of reflection like this always bore with them the same, painful answer - you appease them, Dirk, because the British Empire is all-conquering and vast...
In front of him, seated in a plush Winchester armchair, was Brigadier Menzies-Carmichael. At present he appeared to be ignoring Krugar and was instead concentrating, glassy-eyed, on the smoke rising from the end of the massive, bloated cigar which he was smoking. Eventually the Boer gave a gentle cough that caused the Brigadier to snap himself out of his reverie, refocus his eyes and turn, smiling to face Krugar. He motioned with his hand in that universal gesture meaning "gimmee".
"Right then, let's get this over with, what? That envelope - give it here man and let me see what you unruly farmers are proposing, hmm?"
Stiff-backed and resisting the urge to reach out and slap the pompous Briton, Krugar handed over the envelope and watched as the Brigadier tore it open like an excited child with a birthday card which he knew contained money. With a deft gesture Farquhar dragged the letter free from the shredded envelope, unfolded it and started to read, his eyes darting back and forth as he scanned the page. Occasionally he let out a little snort of indignation or gave a slightly sinister chuckle but eventually he finished reading, crumpled up the letter into a ball and threw it over his shoulder. He leant forward in his chair and scowled, his mood noticeably blackening.
"Do you mean to mock me, Afrikaaner?"
Krugar blanched.
"Brigadier - please be assured that the offer outlined in my government's communication is serious in the extreme. We are offering significant territorial concessions, not to mention paying stiff financial reparations. Believe me when I say there's nothing humourous in that letter's contents."
Farquhar growled.
"Don't play games with me, Boer. That treaty is worth nothing as it stands. You know it and I know it.
He's mad whispered Krugar's inner voice. Dirk was sure it sounded scared.
"I'm not sure I understand. The terms of our surrender are quite clearly outlined. The British Empire stands to gain considerably from the armistice. If you take a look..."
The Brigadier brought his fist down on the arm of his chair with a sharp crack, and when he next spoke his voice had the mad intensity of a brewing storm.
"Where...are...the....pigs?"
Kruger tugged at his collar. Nothing in his briefing had prepared him for this.
"Pigs... Er...what?"
"The pigs - you know what I mean, what? Those pigs you use. Evil little bastards. Sitting in the bush. Sniping at my soldiers. Secretive, covert wee buggers. Shoot you between the eyes soon as oink at you, hmm? Ring any bells?"
"Sir...with respect...I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Don't play games with me you rebellious farm-dwelling primitive!"; the Brigadier's voice was a frantic, shrill, yell. "You know bloody well what I'm talking about! Your government knows what I'm talking about! And until these attacks by your paramilitary livestock cease there will never be any peace between our people! War is an ugly and evil thing - but when one side starts using dumb animals as assassins the move the conflict to an altogether different level."
The beads of sweat forming on his brow were now noticeable and Krugar cursed himself for it. There was no negotiating with madness like this, but he had to try - if only for the sake of everyone back home.
"Brigadier. I'm not sure what to say. I was sent here with a message - a message of peace and..."
The Brigadier smiled nastily.
"You want to send a message? Do you? Tell you what - you can send your message..." he paused dramatically before yanking the huge lever beside his chair "...to my CROCODILES!"
Krugar had just enough time to stare at the Brigadier in complete and utter disbelief before there was a rumbling of gears and the floor beneath him flipped downwards on massive hinges, sending him flailing and flapping into the dark void beneath the Brigadier's office. As the floor closed shut there was a moment or two of silence, followed by a splash and a scream. Farquhar settled back into his chair, steepled his fingers and smiled slyly.
"Feast on him my pretties", he hissed. "Feast on him."
1. It was so hot that the room's normally active population of mini-beasts were doing the their equivalent of "chillin' by da pool". The family of bloated, greasy flies that normally buzzed around annoyingly, evading even the most fearsome swatting attempts were perched upon the mounted head of a particularly sad looking lion - no doubt waiting for the Brigadier to finish with afternoon tea so that they could descend upon the cake crumbs with gusto - whilst the two spiders whose webs occupied either corner of the room had ceased criticizing the design of each others home and were instead just hanging there, doubtlessly weighing up the pay-off-to-effort of trying to lure the flies into their webs. Brownback Barry - the room's only snake - had slid under the wardrobe - too hot and tired to even bother with his favourite trick of hiding amidst some discarded clothing and frightening the servants that came to collect it with some particularly scary hissing. It was simply too hot to make even their frightened yelpings seem worth the effort.
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STOP! COOKIE TIME