Three Crowns: The first Munster AAR!

[unmerged(28944)]

Good writing, great game so far, and simply awesome pictures of the Queen and Princess. Okay, of the King, but who's gonna look at him when the Royal Ladies are within eyesight? :rofl:
Honestly though, good story so far. I see Munster reigning supreme on the Emerald Isle here soon, and then.... the world. So who's your target after your island is all wrapped up under your throne?

 

[RossN]

Chapter 6 - Castles and Rogues

Cork, July, 1445

As part of the so-called 'White Peace' with Ulster Art had insisted that insisted that the Treaty in the massive new castle designed especially to intimidate visitors. 'Look here foreign type person' the stone walls seemed to say 'not only is this kingdom so rich & powerful it has a fortress despite controlling most of the island and having relatively few enemies, it actually has a second, entirely superfluous castle in the same province. Beat that.'

Also Caolin had wanted show off the new upholstery.

Munster’s unnecessarily big castle.

During the Post Peace celebrations (er, that is to say the Peace Treaty - Ulster and Munster-Leinster remained at peace) the English ambassador asked for a word with Art. "As you know, your Majesty your beloved cousin Aine recently passed on."

"Yes" nodded Art sadly, who had once had the misfortune of walking in on her in the bath and gone hysterically blind for a month (which according to rumour was the real reason for his hatred of dyed blondes). It was difficult to scrape up much sympathy after that, which had happened, come to think of it just before he married her off to the English. Hmm.

"Anyway," said the ambassador moving on swiftly (he had met Aine once) "the King wanted to inform you that he wishes for your daughter to marry his nephew."

Art blinked at him for a second. "My 13 year old daughter?"

"The nephew in question is seven”, went on the ambassador smoothly. “The actual wedding won’t take place until he has reached the age of 16, so of course nothing 'funny' will happen before then."

"Oh well that isn't too bad then. It's a deal, just one thing."

"Oh?"

"Like my wife my daughter doesn't speak any English..." he trailed off at the scandalised look the ambassador gave him.

"Your majesty, the Kings nephew is an English Aristocrat. He only speaks French."

Burgundy, December 1445

“So who is this little Irish princeling that has come to ask for my hand?” asked Duchess Genevieve of the fawning underling who was cowering before her (Genevieve was as famous for her temper as for her beauty and had on one memorable occasion knocked unconscious her own bodyguard after he had accidentally bled on her second best dress).

“Er, Lord Tadc O’Donnell your Ladyship. He is the nephew of King Art of Munster.

“Well I have never heard of Monsieur O’Donnell from that grotty little piece of mud before,” snapped the Duchess.

She wasn’t alone.

Tadc O’Donnell was the son of Art’s father’s sister’s daughter and had like his Royal uncle grown up in Dublin. However if the current King of Munster was from a less than distinguished branch of the O’Donnell tree Tadc came from a twig that had (metaphorically) rotten through, fallen off and been used as a backscratcher by a clan of particularly inbred village idiots. He had spent 8 of his 22 years in exile in Wales after an unfortunate incident where he had accidentally ran off with 5,000 guineas belonging to a local magistrate. Sadly his life in Wales had not been a happy one – he fully shared Arts luck with women with the additional handicap of going through puberty at quite a late age. Actually that hadn’t been too bad – he had had a very successful career as a travelling player playing female roles making enough money to get by and even getting a certain measure of notoriety. Still after the 200th time some guy had attempted to pick him up Tadc had to admit that perhaps he was a little too convincing as a woman and fled back to Ireland, bodices and strappy sandals flying in his wake.

Tadc O'Donnell aged 18 (in makeup. Obviously).

Fortunately by this time puberty had finally started showing and Tadc celebrated by gaining 40 lbs, growing a beard and feigning deafness when anyone asked why he lapsed into falsetto occasionally when not concentrating.

Tadc O'Donnell age 22 (sans makeup)

At any rate a broke (and deeply masculine) Tadc had arrived in Cork and begged his uncle for aid. Touched by this melancholy fate besetting his kin (and needing to get Tadc out of the house after he had unwisely asked Caolin if she knew a chef who could do good roasted mutton) the King had made him Lord of Waterford and sent him to court the most eligible princess in Christendom - Duchess Genevieve of Burgundy. Not that anyone expected anything to come of it. Except Tadc. He had bought the finest clothing he could find in order to impress the Duchess. Whole herds of ermine had been slaughtered to make his robes. Flocks of rare birds had been netted to provide feathers for his hat. The Sword of Charlemagne and the Ring of Thor – the two greatest treasures of Viking Ireland had been melted down to create a gentleman’s sword of silver and gold that Tadc, secretly, thought was a bit naff.

The only problem with all this was that it was very hot and itched in several places leading to a potentially embarrassing situation when the Duchess walked in on a sweating Lord of Waterford trying to scratch a small point on his back with his damn sword.

Luckily she was too busy beating her servant with a convienient candlestick to notice him (something about ‘not allowing beggars from the arse end of Europe in’ or something – Tadc was not great with French) and Tadc was able to run a quick hand through his hair and flash smile at Genevieve before she turned to him.

“Your Ladyship, I am here to ask for your hand. In marriage I mean. Your hand in marriage.” Rattled off Tadc quickly as he gave a nervous grin.

The fearsome and beautiful Duchess blinked at him transfixed. She had never heard an Irish accent before and…well…she was only human!

Genevieve hears her first Irish accent.

“Ok.” She replied.

There was a silence broken only by a thud as the servant fainted.

Caolin sorts out the wedding gifts for her beloved nephew-in-law

Ok not a whole lot to report from 1445 to 1449. Had to extend my loan and start minting more but otherwise it's as above. Also moved the slider +1 towards Naval.

Thanks for the continuing kind comments guys. It's good to be back!

Do chuid

 

[CatKnight]

Welcome back Caolin!

Er...I mean Ross....yah, Ross. Welcome..back. :rofl:

 

[Farquharson]

Yes indeed, welcome back to AARland, and Ireland for that matter. Nice update despite there being "not a whole lot to report". I especially enjoyed the description of Tadc's twig on the family tree! :rofl:

 

[unmerged(19936)]

What beautiful Irish celebrity have you chosen to portray Duchess Genevieve?

And welcome back. Hope you enjoyed your stay in Scotland.

 

[RossN]

What beautiful Irish celebrity have you chosen to portray Duchess Genevieve?

And welcome back. Hope you enjoyed your stay in Scotland.

Rosanna Davidson, Miss World (and Miss Ireland, obviously).

Scotland was rainy, hilly and far too full of sheep and cows. Naturally I was constantly homesick.

Do chuid

 

[Zenek K.]

The most beautiful girls in AARland are back.

 

[th3freakie]

You have to teach us some of that Irish accent my friend...

 

[RossN]

There is a 90% chance of an update tonight. I'm just trying to work out characters to be 'played' by the cast of Mean Girls which I saw yesterday and loved.
See you shortly.

Do chuid

 

[unmerged(28944)]

I love it! I come back from a week away and not only get a good update, but some more beautiful pictures to drool... ahem, I mean, look at.

 

[RossN]

I love it! I come back from a week away and not only get a good update, but some more beautiful pictures to drool... ahem, I mean, look at.

Glad you like. I'm trying to find a way to fit a Lacey Chabert lookalike in (I was really impressed by her in 'Mean Girls', but unlike the other girls there she is a little dark for an Irish princess. I'm sure I'll figure it out) soon aswell as Amanda Seyfried, Lindsay Lohan (who actually does look Irish) and Rachel McAdams.

For all their (many) flaws the O'Donnells actually aren't bad lookers are they? Well not the women anyway.

Do chuid

 

[Zenek K.]

I checked my subscription list and I saw your AAR. An update, I thought. But no, that's only non-update post. Next time it will be for sure.

I'm trying to find a way to fit a Lacey Chabert lookalike in (I was really impressed by her in 'Mean Girls', but unlike the other girls there she is a little dark for an Irish princess. I'm sure I'll figure it out) soon aswell as Amanda Seyfried, Lindsay Lohan (who actually does look Irish) and Rachel McAdams.

For all their (many) flaws the O'Donnells actually aren't bad lookers are they? Well not the women anyway.

They will fit! I have checked them at imdb...

 

[RossN]

Part 7 - Hard Times

Cork, May 1449

Another year, another war with Scotland.

Art looked wearily at the English ambassoder and nodded his head slightly. The man bowed and left to bring his agreement to King Henry. It seemed for the entirety of his reign Munster had been at war with someone else thanks to England. It was if when France nudged Scotland, Scotland sneezed, England caught a cold and Munster had to lie down for a while and start supping lemsip.

Still there were certain advantages. Art loved his daughter dearly, but at 17 she was a real handful and so he had been only to happy to send her to her aunt in London to learn how the wives of English noblemen act. Apart from the occasional letter sweetly asking for money all was at peace. Well peace, except for the war and all, but as Art had told Caolin at dinner the previous night the Scots would never dare land in Ireland. The Younger O'Brien had tried to interupt with someting about Edward the Bruce but Art had pretended not to hear as he dug into his asparagus soufle (Tadc had eventually cracked under pressure from the Queen and had become a pseudo vegetarian in public, though the extremely stubborn Genevieve still held out). Still he had discretely ordered the raising of another 1000 kerns to guard the kingdom, better safe than sorry...

Above: Irish soldiery discussing wages. Note weaponry, bagpipes.

Of course to pay for this Art ordered army maintence cut in half, which didn't go down to well with the men but luckily also caused them to pump what they had left into gambling, drowning their sorrows in drink, women, etc. thus returning money to the economy and keeping Munsters finances somewhat on track.

Wicklow, March 1451

In retrospect the 2nd Scottish Invasion of Ireland (1450 and counting) was not what you might call entirely unexpected. After all the Scots were originally Irish who had grown tired of the blistering heat and long stretches (often entire days!) without rain that so characterised Ireland had founded a country for real men. Now they had come back to look at the Old Country, buy souviniers, plunder, pillage, conquer, etc.

Above: A local merchant eagerly anticipates the Scottish Invasion. (Compilers Note: From this point a certain stylism began entering Irish Art, later known as Retro-Neo-Celtic-Type-Stuff, of which this an early example. Note both the characteristic beauty and disdain for vulgar accuracy).

Meath fell first in January of 1451, continuing the epic tradition of English defeats at Dublin when an illadvised attempt to bribe the Duke of Argyll (head of the invaders) with a lifetimes supply of warm English ale when terribly wrong (when - much later - the city was retaken the Justiciars body was found pickled in whisky).

Above: The Siege of Dublin. Note consistent uselessness of by far the most powerful country in these Isles. Again!

Then the Scots marched south into Wicklow, running straight into the Munster relief force heading North (but not too fast, since, hey, they didn't much care for warm ale either).

Above: Battle of Wicklow. Here we go...

The Grand Army of Munster (6028 Infantrymen) met 4509 bekilted maniacs in the Wicklow Mountains (see below) under the command of the Younger O'Brien and consequently got their asses kicked right out of Leinster. 118 Munstermen died in battle heroically, or at least extremely violently.

Above: The beauty of rural Wicklow. Not pictured: slaughter, humiliating defeat on home ground to smaller army.

Waterford-Cork, April/May 1451

After the disaster in Wicklow (and the loss of the entire of Leinster) Art held a crisis meeting and took supreme command of the Munster army. Nervously the court awaited the approaching Scots.

In the second week of April Art moved the army to Waterford, deciding to make his stand there for two reasons: 1) a captured Scottish tourist map had double underlined "Plunder Here!" written beneath Waterford and 2) because he had been hoping to pick up a Waterford Crystal vase as a birthday present for Caolin and rathered hoped to get a discount by winning right in front of the town.

The Scots arrived on the 16th and promptly charged the Munster army. It was a brutal battle that lasted an entire week with neither side willing to break.

Above: Battle of Waterford. Yikes!

On the morning of the 23rd before the daily Scottish charge the Lord of Waterford requested an udience with his uncle. Upon entering his uncles house he was horrified at grey and tired the King looked. For the first time it struck Tadc that the senior O'Donnell was, well, old. After a minute or two he regained his composure enough to speak:

"Uncle, we can't go on like this. We lost another 50 men yesterday and a third of Waterford is in flames."

"Who did we lose?" asked the King wearily, he hadn't slept well this week.

Tadc hesitated for a second before admitting: "Guy Fitzgerald, the Baron of Kinsale; Donnacdh Walsh & Lord Dempsey. Oh and Aodh Murphy... last heir to the old Murphys of Waterford."

A pained expression crossed Arts face. The nephew of his old enemy Conn had been a good friend to Art and had died far too young. Yet he could tell by the look in Tadc's eyes that there was worse yet. "Who else?"

Tadc looked wretchedly uncomfortable yet somehow forced himself to say the words: "Eoin Fitzgerald"

Eoin Fitzgerald. His oldest friend, the man who had been with him in the worst hour of his life when the Kingdom had fallen and Conn had seemed triumphant. Art broke down and unashamedly wept into his beard.

An hour later the army left it's positions and began the painful retreat from Waterford. To somewhere...

Above: Tadc and Guinivere watch the fighting from the town walls.

To be continued...

Well as you can see I am fighting a losing war for survival in an unexpectedly hot war. Anyone prepared to bet the odds on what is going to happen next.

Do chuid

 

[unmerged(26933)]

Bet's eh 1 to 1 that you lose part of your kingdom.

It's a good thing you got that Irish luck on your side

 

[unmerged(21523)]

Hmm...where's your army now? Have they fled to Connacht? If Lenister is unfortified you might be able to slip past the Scots and retake it, they're army doesn't look big enough to besiege Munster itself. Perhaps the English will come to the rescue, or maybe Connacht can finally get some use out of that huge army they've got. As to betting, followers of Farqharsan's Mombasa AAR can place their bets with a certain pair of migratory birds ...

 

[Farquharson]

I'm betting the English hand Meath to the Scots for peace, so they go home and leave you alone (ever the optimist!)

 

[CatKnight]

The zebra from Farq's Mombasa AAR poked his head in:

"Fifty ducats says Art didn't get his discount on the Waterford vase."

 

[Zenek K.]

Maybe, surprisingly, English forces will land on Ireland and crush those Scots. Or perhaps they will sign a peace.
But now your situation is not good. I believe when you lose control of all your provinces, you are forced to accept a peace...

 

[unmerged(28944)]

As my father's uncle's third cousin twice removed once said, "Never bet against the Irish, their luck always pulls them through, even when they're neck deep in manure!"
I'm keeping my money in my pocket on this one though, for some reason I have the feeling the English or Connacht might actually do something to help out. I hope.

 

[RossN]

Part 8 - The Agony and the Ecstasy

Above: Crest of the Kingdom of Leinster

Above: A map of the Kingdom of Leinster


Kilkenny, May/June 1451

The Munsterman made camp across the River Barrow and rested to consider their options. In the distance the flames of Waterford could just be made out and Genevieve stood watching them until, gradually they dissapeared from view.

"Well" she thought to herself bitterly, "There goes my plans for a shoe collection to rival Caolin. Why do bad things always happen to me?"

Word had come through from Caolin that the Scots had started besiging Cork but couldn't make it through the heavy fortifications, so some good news there. Better yet the Scots had left the merest sprinkiling of a garrison in Leinster and the local population came rushing to greet their King with open arms. They had known he would not abandon them to death and defeat, but he had come forth from Munster, like a latter day Brian Boru to drive the hated Gall into the sea. Luckily for Art, very few people in Leinster had heard about the events in Waterford so the court was able to spin this pretty well:

Above: The latter day Brian Boru addresses the troops.

"My brave followers, we face a crisis such as not been seen since the days of the Vikings. These invaders have struck at the very heart of our island, of our people. What has the King of England done to help us? Nothing! What has the King of Connacht, my own vassal done? Nothing! And our own High King of Ulster, sits calmly in his dún with his army while Irish blood stains our soil. Are we to stand alone?"

The crowd shouted back "Yes!" and shook their weapons in the air. Traitors might skulk in the West and cowards haunt the North, but down here in the Two Provinces the real Irish could still be found.

"Then so be it my brothers, let us fight this war ourselves and let Connacht tremble, let England tremble and let Ulster tremble, for we have seen their idifference at the moment of our greatest defeat and we shall never forget it! To arms men of Munster! To arms men of Leinster! To war true sons of Ireland!"

The cheers could be heard 3 miles away.

On the 1st of June the Scottish army (having left a rearguard at Cork to carry on glaring at the fortifications) invaded Kilkenny and met up with the Royal Army. The battle that followed over 9 days was bloody, confusing and, everyone knew would determine the fate of Ireland.

Above: Battle of Kilkenny. Note vast army of vassal doing absolutely nothing. *Sigh*

After 8 days of stalemate a weary Art handed over the reigns of command to the Younger O'Brien and retired to write a letter.

My Dearest Caolin,

I hope this letter finds you well. I'm ok except for the whole battle-to-determine-the-future-of-Ireland thing going on, which has begun to give me a headache. Still I think we are about to win this and I should be home soon enough. Still just in case I am not I want you to know that I have always loved you and our daughter and I know she will make a fine queen. I know you don't like Tadc but try not to be too hard on him - he isn't that bad, even if he is under the mistaken belief that his wife has a better sense of style than you do.

He's wrong of course. No one has more style than you.

Yours forever,

Art Rex

Imperator Scotorium*

*I am trying out the old Brian Boru title since while I am not fit to wear it no other Irish king is my bootlace.

On the 10th of June the Scots charged the Munster line en-mass and nearly broke through, before a clever rumour that the Scots planned on introducing compulsory haggis after the conquest stiffened the Irish resolve and allowed the men to hurl the invaders back across the Barrow.

Above: The last battle.

Finally the Scots broke and fled for the safety of Meath, leaving 744 of their dead behind - and the Duke of Argyll. Genevieve insisted on executing the Scot herself, cleanly dispatching his head with a claymore that was about 6 inches taller than her.

Above: Happy after avenging her shoe collection.

"Quite a woman you have there said the Younger O'Brien.
"Er, yes... lucky she and Caolin have had a bad arguement yet - between them they could destroy the Universe!"

The Duke of Argyll's head was dumped into a Waterford Crystal vase that they discovered in his tent and was personally brought to the Royal tent by Tadc.

"Uncle I have a present for you that I think you might like..." he stopped when he saw the King slumped on naturally still over his writing desk. "Uncle?"

There was an odd thinkingly sound and a thud, but Tadc didn't even notice the cuts he got on his feet as he walked over the dropped vase into the tent.

Above: Waiting for news.

To be continued...



Do chuid