Alright, I’m new here – although not *that* new to the game. I’ve had it for a number of months, and have made substantial enough progress that I consider myself a competent player. I’ve read the board plenty, but never really posted…and certainly never written an AAR.
Also on the list of things that I haven’t done is attempt a Nubian dynasty. After today, I will no longer be able to make either of those claims truthfully.
I’m not sure as to the format this AAR will take…it’s going to be focused (initially at least) pretty closely on the petty kingdom of Nubia and its northern borders. Expect the prose to be a bit dry and “textbook”-like, with perhaps occasional interludes closer to the action.
And screenshots from the action, once I'm back on my own computer.
Basically I’m going to do whatever the heck I want.
Oh! And I’d love some feedback. Me Feedback junky.
---
So bear witness all ye Norman conquerors and Emperors of Holy Rome: a new age dawns far to the south…or should I say a Nubian age?
Chapter One: A Christian kingdom in Africa?
The situation was grim for tiny Nubia, but when was it not? In 1066, sandwiched between the powerful Fatimids to the north, and the impenetrable pagan heart of Africa to the south, the dream of a powerful Christian kingdom in Africa seemed remote. Though her tribal neighbors to the south were of no immediate threat, nor could Nubia muster even the modest military might needed to press her borders.
To the north, the powerful Muslim rulers of the Kingdom of Fatimids reigned from Alexandria: a city whose wealth dwarfed that of entire nations. Towering leaders of the Muslim military machine and the Islamic faith both, the Fatimids cast a very long shadow. Even now, rumors swirled south from Cairo that Fatimid regiments mustered throughout the kingdom for an incursion south.
…but perhaps most concerning for the Nubian King, Georgios of Dongola, in the summer of 1067 was a terrible silence. His young bride, Syragia, was with the midwives. Her labor had not been an easy one. For twenty-six hours, her screams had kept the king from his bed – for he had decreed that no on in the royal household could sleep while his wife did not. And now, now…suddenly, a silence from beyond her door. For too long did this silence last – something must be wrong, thought the king, though he knew little of such matters – and then: the crying a baby.
His son, Murtaza. Though time would show him to be a sullen and aggravating child, on the day of his birth, Georgios could not imagine a more beautiful creature, except possibly his exhausted, but healthy, wife. Though possessing of a fiery tongue, and an indelicate nature, he did love her dearly.
If the next years were not kind to Nubia, nor were they particularly cruel; despite continued rumors of a Fatimid invasion, the realm continued uninterrupted. A daughter, Bilqis, was born into the royal family a year to the day after the young heir. She was as joyous in nature as Murtaza was fickle – truly a light in everyone’s life.
Georgios knew his good fortune could not last forever. Eventually, the Fatimids must turn their attention south – and he intended to be ready, though the fight must be a hopeless one. He tasked his advisors with strengthening his forces in the event of a battle. By 1070 he was confident in being able to raise two thousand men beneath his banner: only the barest drop of water against the endless hordes of the Fatimid kind.
Perhaps Nubia was too small, the king sometimes dared to hope, to be a real target, but he knew it was a fool’s hope. He had sent an emissary north, in the hopes of brokering a deal – maybe even an alliance with al-Mustansir Fatimid. Though dispatched months ago, this emissary had not returned, and the rumblings from his spies grew stronger: there would be war, if you could call it that.
…And a hundred miles to the north, in the deserts of the southern Aswan, a lone farmer squints into the desert sun. Something has caught his eye…movement across a desolate horizon. Is it his son returning from market so soon? Damn the boy, always forgetting something!
His anger is forgotten in a heartbeat, however, as he sees the truth: a thousand men on the march, south, from Gizeh and beyond…and another thousand, and another…
…and so in August of 1070 the fears of Georgios – a king only in name – came to fruition. The hordes of his enemy descended upon his land, and the sun began to set upon the last Christian kingdom in Africa…
Also on the list of things that I haven’t done is attempt a Nubian dynasty. After today, I will no longer be able to make either of those claims truthfully.
I’m not sure as to the format this AAR will take…it’s going to be focused (initially at least) pretty closely on the petty kingdom of Nubia and its northern borders. Expect the prose to be a bit dry and “textbook”-like, with perhaps occasional interludes closer to the action.
And screenshots from the action, once I'm back on my own computer.
Basically I’m going to do whatever the heck I want.
Oh! And I’d love some feedback. Me Feedback junky.
---
So bear witness all ye Norman conquerors and Emperors of Holy Rome: a new age dawns far to the south…or should I say a Nubian age?
Chapter One: A Christian kingdom in Africa?
The situation was grim for tiny Nubia, but when was it not? In 1066, sandwiched between the powerful Fatimids to the north, and the impenetrable pagan heart of Africa to the south, the dream of a powerful Christian kingdom in Africa seemed remote. Though her tribal neighbors to the south were of no immediate threat, nor could Nubia muster even the modest military might needed to press her borders.
To the north, the powerful Muslim rulers of the Kingdom of Fatimids reigned from Alexandria: a city whose wealth dwarfed that of entire nations. Towering leaders of the Muslim military machine and the Islamic faith both, the Fatimids cast a very long shadow. Even now, rumors swirled south from Cairo that Fatimid regiments mustered throughout the kingdom for an incursion south.
…but perhaps most concerning for the Nubian King, Georgios of Dongola, in the summer of 1067 was a terrible silence. His young bride, Syragia, was with the midwives. Her labor had not been an easy one. For twenty-six hours, her screams had kept the king from his bed – for he had decreed that no on in the royal household could sleep while his wife did not. And now, now…suddenly, a silence from beyond her door. For too long did this silence last – something must be wrong, thought the king, though he knew little of such matters – and then: the crying a baby.
His son, Murtaza. Though time would show him to be a sullen and aggravating child, on the day of his birth, Georgios could not imagine a more beautiful creature, except possibly his exhausted, but healthy, wife. Though possessing of a fiery tongue, and an indelicate nature, he did love her dearly.
If the next years were not kind to Nubia, nor were they particularly cruel; despite continued rumors of a Fatimid invasion, the realm continued uninterrupted. A daughter, Bilqis, was born into the royal family a year to the day after the young heir. She was as joyous in nature as Murtaza was fickle – truly a light in everyone’s life.
Georgios knew his good fortune could not last forever. Eventually, the Fatimids must turn their attention south – and he intended to be ready, though the fight must be a hopeless one. He tasked his advisors with strengthening his forces in the event of a battle. By 1070 he was confident in being able to raise two thousand men beneath his banner: only the barest drop of water against the endless hordes of the Fatimid kind.
Perhaps Nubia was too small, the king sometimes dared to hope, to be a real target, but he knew it was a fool’s hope. He had sent an emissary north, in the hopes of brokering a deal – maybe even an alliance with al-Mustansir Fatimid. Though dispatched months ago, this emissary had not returned, and the rumblings from his spies grew stronger: there would be war, if you could call it that.
…And a hundred miles to the north, in the deserts of the southern Aswan, a lone farmer squints into the desert sun. Something has caught his eye…movement across a desolate horizon. Is it his son returning from market so soon? Damn the boy, always forgetting something!
His anger is forgotten in a heartbeat, however, as he sees the truth: a thousand men on the march, south, from Gizeh and beyond…and another thousand, and another…
…and so in August of 1070 the fears of Georgios – a king only in name – came to fruition. The hordes of his enemy descended upon his land, and the sun began to set upon the last Christian kingdom in Africa…