Maybe the Protector General can borrow Toro's hat. Son-Toro, not Horse-Toro, of course.
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Them turning Karluk is even more interesting than them turning Muslim!
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Yeah, the Mongols are Hindu as are a lot of the Timurids who are slowly and inexorably expanding below Suenik...
Horse-Toros is far too mature for a hat, unlike that blithering, pagan-marrying, good-for-nothing heir...
Yeah - I have NO idea how that happened; this is literally the first time I've checked on them since they showed up. Some Aztec obviously got lost, ended up somewhere in central Asia and thought "I like these guys' style" before heading back to Spain to preach the good word...
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CHAPTER 36 - POP GOES THE EMPIRE
SUENIK RELOADED
CHAPTER 36 - POP GOES THE EMPIRE
(1217-1225)
CHAPTER 36 - POP GOES THE EMPIRE
(1217-1225)
The tiger hunt is not a success.
We spend months tramping through the countryside before I'm finally forced to admit defeat, and begin the journey back home with no prize and to an angry wife.
On the way, we meet several travellers who tell us all about a Great War of Liberation (they're careful to pronounce the capital letters) taking place to the north of us.
Seems like my old foe, the Khan of Cumania had some rebel problems of his own that he never managed to sort out!
As I'm standing in the castle courtyard deciding what to make of this (and what excuses to make to my wife for being gone for several months during the royal Christening) there is a blare of trumpets and a herald, wearing the colours of Alania, announces his presence and that he has a message from his Lord.
This fellow seems like exactly the sort of chap I'd like to be friends with! With a cry of "HAY FOR MY HORSES AND ALE FOR MY MEN! WE RIDE AT DAWN FOR ALANIA!" I dismount from Horse-Toros and hurriedly bark instructions to servants to get things packed. Maybe I won't have to confront my wife after all.
The bellowing from the royal tower that I can hear from the courtyard suggests that she might have heard of my arrival.
Waving at my servants in a "Come on! Come on! Move it!" kind of fashion I nervously jump from one foot to another as I watch my luggage slowly - ever so slowly - being stowed onto mules. However, it is all for nothing. My wife sweeps onto the balcony overlooking the courtyard and glares down at me.
I smile sheepishly before shielding my eyes.
"IS THAT THE SUN RISEN ANEW, FOR I AM BLINDED BY ITS BEAUTY!"
She folds her arms and taps her foot. I gulp. This isn't good.
"Artashes Gardman-Agbhania" she hisses. "If you think you're going off on another tiger hunt, you've got another thing coming. It is your daughter's sixteenth birthday, and you are not going to spoil it like you've spoiled everything else."
I smile nervously and think to myself. I'd completely forgotten that I had another daughter.
Hmm.
That gives me an idea...
I beam up at her.
"FEAR NOT, OH ANGEL OF SUENIK, FOR I RIDE NOT FOR SPORT, BUT FOR THE GOOD OF CHRISTENDOM. A BRAVE REALM HAS ASSERTED ITSELF TO THE NORTH - A BRAVE REALM OF GOOD CHRISTIAN PEOPLE WHO HAVE THROWN OFF THE YOKE OF DESPOTISM! I RIDE TO BRING THEM THE BALM OF COMRADESHIP, BROTHERHOOD AND FIDELITY!"
I glance at my retinue who are all nodding enthusiastically whilst at the same time avoiding my wife's penetrating glare. Honestly, that woman could win a staring match with a cobra.
She raises an eyebrow.
"And what about your daughter's birthday? What gift to you offer her?"
I laugh uproariously and boom "OH THE GIFT I HAVE FOR HER - YOU WILL LOVE IT! IT WILL BRING GLORY TO HER AND HER HOUSE!"
With a "Hmph!" and a swirl of skirts my wife leaves the balcony and returns to her chamber. I snap my fingers for servant to bring ink and parchment. Yes, I'm sure both my wife and girl-child number three will love this particular gift.
I hear Sicily is beautiful. Perhaps my wife could go and visit the girl-child there?
On the way north, we hear news that suggests that someone has taken advantage of the little civil war the Byzantines were in the middle of.
As long as they are not bothering me I don't mind where they choose to graze their horses.
Eventually, we arrive in Alania and we are greeted like brothers-in-arms by King Khankhusy. We spend the days discussing strategy, politics and hunting, and the evenings feasting and engaging in games of manly, martial prowess. One night we go for a long walk under the stars, and I regale him with tales of the military might of Suenik, all the while admiring the way the moonlight makes his eyes sparkle and gives his skin an almost radiant lustre...
But it is all over too quickly, and before I know it we're back on the road to Suenik and it's mundane day-to-day.
En route, I find an excuse to delay my return to the castle when some peasants decide to ungratefully revolt against my new best friend, and I decide to have my retinue demonstrate some of the text book strategy I was regaling him with.
It's a simple sort of warfare, but it's all over too quickly. With the screams of dying peasants and the squawking of carrion crows receding into the distance, we slowly trudge our way towards the castle and my impending confrontation with my wife. On the way, we pass many travellers all who are buzzing with the same news. It appears that the Byzantine Empire, caught between a war with the Mongols and its own "internal difficulties" has messily popped.
As I'm still processing this, my new besetest friend - the manly, heroic and fine-figured King of Alania - decides not to look a gift horse in the mouth and declares "Liberation for Everyone!"
You beautiful, heroic, statuesque GOOD MAN! Not to be undone, I rear up on Horse-Toros and boom "SADDLE MY HORSE! WE RIDE FOR KARTLI..." I look at my confused retainers. "YES, I KNOW I'M ON MY HORSE. IT'S A FIGURE OF SPEECH."
Predictably, my stance on "aggressive negotiations" proves to be a hit with the ladies.
As I'm off busy introducing the people of Kartli to the benefits of being part of the Kingdom of Suenik (by spear point), my chancellor receives a visitor.
Conscious that we've got "the distinguished friends of the Chinese" (IE the slavering Mongol hordes) living just a hop-skip-and-a-jump to the north of us, my dear chancellor decides to play it safe, invite this poor, lost lamb into the fold...and immediately creep away to inform the Mongols on where exactly they can collect Mr Zhengyi from.
He then pulls a double-whammy by providing me with some extra wonderful news.
It seems that he has discovered "by chance" an "old, mouldering scroll that proves Suenikian rights to the land currently occupied by the Queen of Trebizond". He receives a hearty pat on the back, a "GOOD MAN" and a fine bottle of Armenian Pomegranate wine.
Now, to get the liberation of Kartli over and done with...
Will the war with Kartli be successfully concluded? What of the brewing conflict with Trebizond? Will the queen ever see the king face to face and get a chance to berate him in person? Find out on the next exciting episode of Suenik Reloaded.
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This is fantastic news!!! Thanks for the heads up on this remarkable thread!!! I too have gone the way of the dodo bird but I blame you Iain! Afterall, it was you that introduced me to Football Manager so many years ago and that has taken hold of my free time these many old years and like your Suenik saves, I have been on cloud 9 leading the likes of Blyth Spartans to football world supremacy! Kind of a Suenik thing perhaps!!! Anyways, great to have you back at the helm and I am glad to get a poke about this wonderful forum that I too have been absent from for far too long! On with the story..........
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Welcome back! As one of the supporters of my first Suenik AAR it's great to have you here!
Ah - yeah. It was my fault that you got into Football Manager, wasn't it? Look - just apologise to those nearest and dearest to you for me, ok? And as brutal as Football Manager can be, I've yet to have seen it be as gut-wrenchingly horrible as your average week in Suenik can be...
I hope you enjoy it - I'm trying to keep updates as regular as possible!
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A fine tiger skin cloak should appease the wife. The wife needs a tour to visit the daughters and grandchildren. Thank you for the update
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At this stage, a cloak made of Artashes skin would make her happy. She's not too fond of the fact that he keeps shipping off her strong, capable daughters and instead is left with that drip Toros...
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If Artashes can triumph these 2 wars there'll be the fastest expansion the realm has ever seen! GOOD MAN!
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Slowly reading this one along with so many others. I see this is one that has made a return and it's always nice to see that, so I'll be slowly reading through the posts, but good work so far!
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Hold that thought, and let's see what happens next...
Thank you very much. Welcome aboard and I hope you enjoy what you're reading. I've tried to make things easier for new readers by organising everything on the contents page at the beginning.
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CHAPTER 37 - WAR, WAR, GLORIOUS WAR!
SUENIK RELOADED
CHAPTER 37 - WAR, WAR, GLORIOUS WAR!
(1225-1226)
CHAPTER 37 - WAR, WAR, GLORIOUS WAR!
(1225-1226)
Ah!
The clash of iron on wood!
The hum of arrows!
The screams of the dying!
All part of the rich symphony of war.
I bloody LOVE IT.
It seems too, that my new found best friend - the extremely manly, robust, handsome and strong King Khankhusy of Alania - is having a little war all of his own and he's absolutely, positively, one hundred percent-ly cementing his "manliest man of the year" credentials.
Yes. My new strong, rugged and chiseled friend is taking what is rightfully his...FROM THE MONGOLS.
I am seriously impressed. If I wasn't so busy fighting a war against the good people of Kartli I'd ride to his castle, sweep him into my arms and offer my congratulations myself.
Buoyed by this thought, and delighting in the Kartli infantry who are beating a hasty retreat from my forces, I roar "SUENIK - FOREVER!" and rear up on Toros before booming "ARMENIAN POMEGRANATE WINE FOR MY CHAMPIONS!"
I'm not actually making up this whole "pomegranate wine" business. Armenia is one of THE oldest wine producing regions in the world. They've been churning out vino for at least six millenia according to the archaeological record! Pomegranate wine is a semi-sweet wine that is a speciality of one of the Armenian wine regions. Sadly, it's not from Syunik. In fact, in a real world tie in that has amused me, while the rest of Armenia's wine regions produce a variety of different, delicious, unique and distinctive wines, Syunik makes vodka. Perhaps a little bit of this AAR and its predecessor have leaked into the real world, and the good people of Syunik have decided "Wine won't cut it - we need a proper drink to drown out the misery."
Anyway, as an old Armeian saying goes "The veins of the country flow with wine."
Who said this AAR was just pithy nonsense and not educational in the slightest? And you can trust me on matters wine-related. During lockdown my wife and I decided to actually turn our growing alcoholism into something useful (IE to justify our drinking): https://www.wsetglobal.com/qualifications/wset-level-1-award-in-wines/
Anyway, as an old Armeian saying goes "The veins of the country flow with wine."
Who said this AAR was just pithy nonsense and not educational in the slightest? And you can trust me on matters wine-related. During lockdown my wife and I decided to actually turn our growing alcoholism into something useful (IE to justify our drinking): https://www.wsetglobal.com/qualifications/wset-level-1-award-in-wines/
A hearty and robust cheer goes up from my men, to which I vault from Toros' back and stride towards my tent. En route, I'm met by my steward who informs me that delivery of the barrels of pomegranate wine might be slightly delayed.
I fix him a stare and ask - nay demand! - to know why.
He looks nervously from side to side, then at his feet, which he shuffles nervously. Finally, he peers up at me and says "Er...because we're flat broke?"
Seeing my expression he tries - diplomatically - to explain to me that maybe mobilising my entire host and that of my vassals to crush the relatively small Kartlian forces was not the most prudent step, but I wave him away with a "Pff" noise.
The solution to this problem is so obvious, I can't believe my so-called steward didn't think of it.
I'll simply ask Boy-Toros for a loan.
He is my son and heir after all. I gave him a lovely, draughty holiday home to look after, so he should be more than happy to help his old man out with a few trifling cellars worth of delicious pomegranate wine.
Ah.
Clearly he's still salty about the whole Christening business.
Now, I know what you're all thinking - this being Suenik means that this is going to be the point where Artashes is going to do something mental like try to arrest his own son, who is going to die in prison and the whole inheritance is going to be ruined. The kingdom is then going to descend into aeons of civil war and then the Mongols are going to finish off what is left.
Nonsense.
I'm not stupid you know.
Besides, the fates have aligned and have given me the most opportune way to pay back Boy Toros.
You see, while this whole "oh please can you help your hardworking father out with some money for his thirsty troops" business was going on, Duke Sarkis, convinced that my distraction with war would mean that I would turn a blind eye to his on-brand nonsense, decides to make a break for it.
I divert a couple of small armies, and then home in on him whilst he's busy lobbing rocks at Boy Toros' castle. Perhaps that will teach the ungrateful brat the value of a loving father?
Thankfully, it is over quickly and (relatively) painlessly.
For me anyway.
As I am watching a wriggling Sarkis being hauled off to jail, I feel a tug at my elbow. Standing there is lovely, doe-eyed Kyriake. For those of you keeping up, she's my...well, I'm actually not sure I'm keeping up either...let's say she's my seventh lover.
I think.
It's hard to tell.
It's such a blur these days.
So many different bed chambers, stables and tents...
She smiles that beautiful smile of hers, and indicates that I should bend over so that she can whisper something to me. I know where this is going. Women just can't resist a hot, sweaty man after he's indulged in a bit of rebellion crushing. I kneel beside her ready to hear the absolute filthy drip huskily from her lips...
How predictable.
What can I say, though? I'm just a rampaging supernova of virility. I swear, sometimes all it takes is a smile from me and - BOOM! - a lady is suddenly with child! Kyriake is still looking at me, waiting for a response, so I place an arm around her shoulder, tussle her hair, laugh lightly and shout "GOOD MAN!" before striding off after the guards. There's a little bit of business I need to conduct with Sarkis.
The man's a complete arse, so his titles are toast. Then, after taking these and locking him away, I send for Boy Toros. He turns up a few hours later, covered in plaster and dust - clearly Sarkis' trebuchets were more accurate than I thought.
I grin.
He starts to stammer about the money but I wave my hand, hug him and give him the good news.
Yup. He's now chief of the horse folks! In fact, I also make him HIGH CHIEF of the desolte-horsey-hinterlands. With a hearty laugh, a "GOOD MAN!" and a slap on the back, I stride out of the dungeon and back to Horse Toros who is waiting patiently in the courtyard. Before I can mount up, there's a fanfare of trumpets, and a herald breathlessly - and giddily - announces that Kartli has capitulated.
I plant my fists on my hips, turn my gaze to the southwest - so that the sun catches my profile heroically, obviously - and roar "SADDLE MY HORSE! WE RIDE FOR TREBIZOND!"
The cheers are so loud I don't hear the inevitable smart arse pointing out that Horse Toros already has his saddle on.
Will Artashes' good fortune continue? How will Boy Toros fare amongst the nomads? What of Kyriake's baby? Find out on the next exciting episode of Suenik Reloaded!
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Most important question is does Strange-Hat Toros get an even more outlandish hat since he is high chief? Thank you for the update
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They also have one of the best brandies ever! If they sell where you're at try Ararat.
GOOD MAN!
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Too bad about the tiger. And that your son is a brat with poor taste in headwear. Perhaps you could appoint Horse-Toros to a lucrative county and then borrow ducats from him in exchange for some choice oats.
EDIT - I should also point out that I've had the good fortune to put you forward as the latest Character WritAAR of the Week. Head over and accept your awAARd.
EDIT - I should also point out that I've had the good fortune to put you forward as the latest Character WritAAR of the Week. Head over and accept your awAARd.
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They do indeed! My company has offices in Armenia, and we've been introduced to said brandies! The also make very good sparkling wines.
Aww - that's far too kind! I'll head over there after posting my latest update!
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CHAPTER 38 - THIS IS PROPER HEADGEAR
SUENIK RELOADED
CHAPTER 38 - THIS IS PROPER HEADGEAR
(1226-1229)
CHAPTER 38 - THIS IS PROPER HEADGEAR
(1226-1229)
Now, I know I'm often fond of yelling things like "SADDLE MY HORSE I RIDE FOR yadayadayada..." but most of the time, that's just for show. I mean, I COULD ride for Trebizond, but I'd sadly be on my own and, mighty and virile as I am, even I can't take on a whole army by myself.
Actually; maybe if Marshal Smarty-Pants had got that armoured chariot contraption working I could, but that's by the by.
No, before we ride for anywhere there are sadly months of very boring logistical organisation to go through.
My steward loves this sort of thing - when it comes to counting stacks of arrows, bushels of fodder and racks of spears he comes over all giddy and girly.
Me though? I'm a man of action, a man of war - the preparation puts my on edge, but when the bean-counting is done, and we're ready to march into battle, I stop pacing pensively and I start to glow like the radiant sun itself.
A bit like Kyriake is glowing just now.
It's sweet she's come to see me on the eve of battle. I wonder if she's come to wish me good luck?
Wait...
What's that she's got with her?
Oh.
It appears that we're not playing the "Oh gosh - a baby? Where could that have come from?" game any more. Kyriake - as an unmarried lady - is telling everyone that little Anna is mine.
From up in the royal apartments I can hear my wife roaring like a wounded bear. Maybe she's...I don't know, happy? Women like babies, right?
The cry of "I'LL GELD HIM LIKE A BLOODY DOG!" suggests that my appraisal of the situation was slightly wide of the mark.
Bollocks to this.
I pat Anna on the head, whisper "GOOD MAN!", mount Toros and yell "TO TREBIZOND!" before tearing from the courtyard at a rate of knots.
Several weeks later and my vanguard are closing in on one of their armies. However, I know that the people of Trebizond are hardy and proud, with well-developed fortresses, which are situated in rugged mountain terrain. Although my army win a victory here, this is but one battle. With any luck, this conflict will drag on for a couple of years, and by the time I come back - as a conquering hero no less - my wife will have forgotten that little fuss over baby Anna.
Probably.
Wait.
Why is everyone cheering so loudly?
Wait - they can't have...
Oh.
I guess that's that then...
Hastily, I summon my advisors, and ask if there are any other wars we could prosecute in the mean time. After all, it seems a shame to have got all the chaps together like this, and have nowhere to conquer.
Sadly though, it seems like the rest of the world are telling me that I need to go back home and face the music.
After an absolute verbal beating from my wife, and much throwing of assorted crockery, I decide that a present is in order.
I then pass the months in seclusion, tending to the affairs of state. Oddly enough, it seems like my opportunistic mauling of weaker neighbours has pretty much cemented my position as "saviour of Christen Armenia and Georgia" in the eyes of some neighbouring states.
I also set about reorganising the realm. First up, I give Toros a proper title to go with his hat.
I also give one of the "can I tell you how amazing the Orthodox faith is?" Greeks the Duchy of Trebizond - hopefully being amongst his own kind will mean he stops annoying me with his incessant chattering about the key differences between our faiths and why his is better. To be honest, it's all men with big beards and incense as far as I'm concerned.
After the tiresome business of swearing in new Dukes is concluded (complete with said bearded men, incense and the endless, endless chanting...) I decide to check in on my best friend. I can't wait for him to regale me with tales of derring do, and of how he crushed the Mongols and sent them home with their tails between their legs! After a couple of months and no answer, I send some messengers north, but they return with devastating news.
My pained cries can be heard throughout the palace.
On the plus side, it appears the grief can be very attractive to some women.
Slightly worried about sharing a much longer border with the Mongols, I set about throwing myself into a deep study of strategy. I don't know what's scarier - the prospect of hordes of horsemen bearing down on Suenik, or that reoccurring dream I have where I'm hiding in a pen of livestock and my wife is coming after me with a wickedly, curved and stupidly sharp blade...
Fate seems intent on testing this theory...
Thankfully, my trusty smith comes to my rescue and I present my wife with THE most amazing piece of headgear, complete with a lovely ruby sceptre.
Thankfully, she's howlingly materialistic, so I get a huge hug and a lot of high pitched screeches. Pretty sure that means I'm off the hook. I'm going to learn from this - I can't honestly keep getting into situations like this. I celebrate my new found wisdom with some delicious wine. A LOT of delicious wine - after all, with my new found view on life I've earned this.
Not having the funds to keep paying for bespoke jewellery over and over again, I decide that I need some time out of the castle. On one hand, my newly minted Duke of Trebizond is proving about as loyal as an Orthodox obsessed lunatic could expect to be (and Toros, just because you've taken your hat off, don't think I don't see you cosying up to Ioannes)...
...on the other, there are some peasants who have got uppity.
Trebizond can wait. Butchering a bunch of goat herders can hopefully dispel some of the livestock related nightmares I've been having. I send my retinue after them whilst I consult with my spy master about what to do about Trebizond.
Oh come on. You're knights of Suenik and you've lost to a bunch of smelly goat people? Really?
I guess I'm simply going to have to put all my new strategic planning into practice.
Interestingly, although peasants don't have they most varied vocabulary, a group of them in the Duchy of Tao learn the meaning of the word "overkill" this very day.
As my men are putting the last thatched hut to the torch, I receive exciting news.
Apparently I'm no longer considered an unstable menace...
Now - what other reasons can I find to avoid going back to the castle?
Will Artashes ever return home? Where is he planning to visit next? Is the queen still sharpening her gelding knife? Find out on the next exciting episode of Suenik Reloaded!
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Artashes would probably fight God himself if it meant not going back to the castle. I mean what could God do? Send him to Hell? He is already living in Suenik, thank you very much.
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How old is Artashes? He has not lost a drop of virility! Thank you for updating
This reminds me of my experience in Tao. Most were deceitful, the others known murderers. But what do you expect, when your older half-sister is your step-mother?
This reminds me of my experience in Tao. Most were deceitful, the others known murderers. But what do you expect, when your older half-sister is your step-mother?
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