Suenik Reloaded

iain_a_wilson · Apr 12, 2017

The interior of the hut was cramped, uncomfortable and humid. A variety of mangey animal pelts were scattered around the floor in a vague attempt to make the place feel more comfortable, but the only thing anyone who was foolish enough to sit on them ended up feeling was itchy, as the myriad insects that made their home in them swarmed forth. A large brass bowl was balanced precariously on a rickety wooden table in the middle of the mess of furs, and it was from here that great gouts of sickly smelling smoke were slowly dissipating. Grigor Gardman-Aghbania, count of Suenik, coughed loudly and waved his hand in front of his face, in a vain attempt to clear the smog that had settled over his eyes, and which was stinging like hell. The woman that knelt opposite him, her face partially obscured by a tatty black robe, cackled gleefully. Grigor frowned.

"Well, THAT was an oddly specific prophecy. You seriously saw all THAT in your horrible, smokey fire?"

The woman cackled again - a high pitched, irritating noise that - if it were written down - went something like "EEEE-hehehehehehehehehe!" Grigor rolled his eyes.

"Oh for goodness sake, you can quit with the crone act now; I'm not some silly girl coming to you for a love potion. Besides, you're only 32."

The woman sagged visibly and rearranged her sitting position to one that was more comfortable - no mean feat when you feel like you're being eaten alive by a thousand, tiny, biting insects. She pulled back her hood and scowled.

"You're no fun. Atmosphere is very important when soothsaying. There are some countries where they won't let you practice proper fortune telling with out all the correct trappings."

"Yeah, and there are other countries out there where you'd be burned at the stake for having 'all the correct trappings' so be thankful I'm such a wise and benevolent ruler."

Grigor frowned again.

He did that a lot.

In fact, it was a family trait. Most Gardman-Aghbanias found themselves frowning more often than not, because usually fate tended to deal them the sort of hand that necessitated frowning.

Or crying.

Or screaming.

The last one was pretty popular - probably more so than the frowning.

"So, you're being straight up with me - everything you saw was true? All of that is going to happen?"

She nodded and grinned.

"Yup - straight up. Pretty cool, huh?"

Grigor blanched, mainly as an alternative to frowning.

"Er...NO!"

This seemed to catch the fortune teller off guard, whose grin promptly vanished.

"What do you mean 'Er...NO!'? That was a quality fortune - one of the best I've ever told. You're going to take your shi...er...modest little county and become the dominant power in the world! There was excitement, adventure, derring-do..."

By this point Grigor was shaking his head and holding up a hand.

"Forget all that - what about the psychopaths, the devil worship, the ghosts, the rivers of blood, the miles and miles of bodies littering the pages of history. Oh yeah, and the fact that the final family member you mention ENDS UP IN HELL???"

"Well, when you put it like that, Mr Glass-Half-Empty..."

With a scattering of mangy furs, Grigor pushed himself to his feat.

"No way - I don't want any part of that."

The fortune teller held her hands up.

"Aw, come on! Your family get to be emperors of Germany!"

"I don't even know what that is! What's a Germany? Is it a country? A town?"

The flames in the brass bowl seemed to flicker and the fortune teller's eyes rolled back in her head.

"And lo, brother shall fight brother. A great eagle shall spread its wings, the shadow from which will cover from Persia to the Rhine. A three headed..."

She was suddenly cut off by the pelt that Grigor hurled in her direction.

"Enough! Cut it out. No more of that rubbish. I'm not interested. I'm going home."

"What do you mean you're not interested?"

"Simply what I'm saying - I don't want any part in your stupid prophecy - it sounds horrible. My descendents...they all sound mental."

The fortune teller waved her arms in a faintly silly, but what she assumed was properly mystic, way.

"Fates designs cannot be denied. Even now, you chart history's course with your very actions."

Grigor stopped at the door of the hut and turned to face her, a sly smile creasing his typically serious features.

"I can't deny fate's design, eh? You're saying what you have foreseen will happen regardless? That I'm powerless to resist."

"Yeah, pretty much that. Because of...er...mystic reasons. And the tides of starlight. And angels. And other things."

"Riiiight. I'll prove to you that this is all a load of old bollocks."

By this time the fortune teller was on her feet, hands planted firmly on her ample hips.

"Oh yeah? And how do you plan to do that?"

"Simple - I'm going to change history right this minute. I'm going to do something that you never saw in your vision."

She arched an eyebrow.

"Go on. This will be good."

"I'm changing the name of my country. In your vision you referred to Suenik. Well, I'm changing it's name to Syunik. With a Y."

"Look, that's hardly changing the course of history. In fact, it's cheating. They sound the same. No dice. You've changed nothing."

"Nope. I totally have changed history - you never saw it spelt with a Y in any of your silly visions, did you?"

"Well, to be fair..."

"Ha! Look at that - I've denied fate! I'll see you later, lady!"

With that, Grigor Gardman-Aghbania, count of Syunik, wandered off into the night, to carve out a destiny for himself, hopefully free from the shackles of history.

---

Old hands may remember, but back in 2009 I created a comedy AAR in the original Crusader Kings, based around the middle eastern minor country of Suenik. This little realm is unique in that it is one of the only Christian realms in the Middle East, surrounded by angry Turks, and therefore is something of a challenge to play! The original AAR was a lot of fun, and when it finished I had a few people ask "Will you ever do something in CKII?" Well now, six years on from when the original AAR finished, I've decided to give it a pop.

I have no idea if my gameplay will ever reach the heights it did in the original AAR, but that was never the intention even back then - the goal was always to roleplay the characters and all the crazy situations that the game world threw at me. Sadly, it appears that the Gardman-Aghbanias are no more, so I've had to create them myself. Here's hoping I can survive long enough to make an interesting tale!

iain_a_wilson · Apr 12, 2017

Suenik Reloaded - a None Too Serious AAR

The Gardman-Aghbania Dynasty

Count Grigor I - the Denier of Fate (1066-1082) - 16 glorious years
Chapter 1 - Enter Grigor
Chapter 2 - It Was the Cats What Did It...
Chapter 3- Can't They Just Till The Fields?
Chapter 4- Liberation?
Chapter 5 - Daddy, What Does "Phyric" Mean?
Chapter 6 - Cura De Ipsum

Duke Artavazd I - the Wicked (1082-1103) - 21 blood-soaked years
Chapter 7 - The Ignoble Reign of Artavazd Gardman-Aghbania

Duke Vahag I - the Accursed (and self-proclaimed "amazing") (1103-1135) - 32 "amazing" years
Chapter 8 - Putting the "Here" into Heresy
Chapter 9 - ...and Everyone Had a Great Time
Chapter 10 - Did You Just Throw a Chicken at Me?
Chapter 11 - Pass Me the Knife and Whetstone
Chapter 12 - Amateur Hour
Chapter 13 - Unlucky For Some
Chapter 14 - What's That Coming Over the Hill?
Chapter 15 - Why Don't I Have a Cool Nickname?
Chapter 16 - We're All Going on a Summer Holiday...
Chapter 17 - Vahag the A-MAZE-ing

Duke Zarmihr I - the Champion of the People (1135-1156) - 21 stable(ish) years
Chapter 18 - Time to Roll the Sleeves Up
Chapter 19 - The Succession is Fine
Chapter 20 - What a Difference a Day Makes

Duke Artavazd II - The Mad (1156-1164) - 8 mad years
Chapter 21 - "A" Is For Artavazd
Chapter 22 - Revelry and Laughs

Duke Toros I - The Great (1164-1180) - 16 "great" years
Chapter 23 - Charm, Wit and Money
Chapter 24 - Where's Grigor When You Need Him?
Chapter 25 - Undone!
Chapter 26- I Have a Cunning Plan
Chapter 27 - The Greatest

King Tachat I - The Founder (1180-1191) - 11 stressful, unstable years
Chapter 28 - Order! Order!
Chapter 29 - Have You Met My Wife?

King Artashes I - The Hunter (1191 - 1241) - 50 good (man!) years
Chapter 30 - That Was an Abrupt Transition
Chapter 31 - Into the Breach
Chapter 32 - The Tides of War
Chapter 33 - The Hunting Trip
Chapter 34 - Happy Birthday to You!
Chapter 35 - Where Did You Get That Hat?
Chapter 36 - Pop Goes the Empire!
Chapter 37 - War, War, Glorious War!
Chapter 38 - This is Proper Headgear
Chapter 39 - I Feel Just Grand, Thanks For Asking
Chapter 40 - It's a Bit Grim Out There
Chapter 41 - Looks Like Meat's Back on the Menu

King Toros II - the Sickly (1241) - 5 *cough cough cough* months
Chapter 42 - Cough! Hack! Illness Noises!

King Oshin I - the Kind (1241 - 1243) - (almost) 2 years
Chapter 43 - Timbukwhere?
Chapter 44 - Why Toros, Why?

King Grigor II - the Just (1243 - 1275) - 32 wife-loving, statue-building years
Chapter 45 - Not the Cats Again...
Chapter 46 - Where Did That Come From?
Chapter 47 - Here's a Scrubbing Brush Sunshine
Chapter 48 - These Tiles Are VERY Slippy!
Chapter 49 - The Karmic Wheel Turns
Chapter 50 - An Important Visitor
Chapter 51 - A White Horse
Chapter 52 - Mangyshlak! Er...bless you?

King Gurgen I - the Beater of Consumption (1275 - 1281) - 6 miserable years
Chapter 53 - That's Weird
Chapter 54 - What's a Yershig?

Queen Gadar I - (1281 - present)
Chapter 54 - What's a Yershig?
Chapter 55 - Can You Lot Keep it Down Out There?

Bonus Features
Introduction
The World in 1164
A brief spot of necromancy
People Watch - 1220

iain_a_wilson · Apr 14, 2017

SUENIK RELOADED
CHAPTER 1 - ENTER GRIGOR...
(1066 - 1068)

Hello and welcome to the prosperous realm of Suenik (now with an added "Y" for extra avoidance of fate reasons!) gentle reader. My name is Grigor Gardman-Aghbania, and I rule wisely over all I survey!

In fairness, that's not saying a lot. Suenik - sorry, Syunik or whatever I'm calling it these days - is a barren, mountainous and sparsely populated outpost of Christendom that is pretty much adrift amidst a sea of angry Muslims.

I've got no real idea WHY exactly they're so angry; if I were to guess I'd assume it was down to something that the Byzantine Empire said or did. In my experience the Greeks are a bunch of haughty arseholes, who are extremely good at rubbing people up the wrong way. In fact, given their penchant for ancient, Athenian buggery, I'd probably be happy to bet that a lot of this anger has a lot to do with the Byzantines LITERALLY trying to rub some people up the wrong way.

So yeah, lots of angry Muslims on my doorstep. Thanks Greeks.

It's not all bad news though - I've got a lovely family.

This little chap is Artavazd, my son and heir. He's also part of my "avoid Fate's cruel embrace plan." You see, the fortune teller told me that, in her vision, I gave my son the WEIRDEST name. I mean, who calls their kid Hovhannes Senek'erim Garman-Aghbania? Not this guy! My wife actually WANTED to call the boy Hovhannes Senek'erim, but I told her no way - so we settled on a nice normal name like Artavazd.

I've also got a daughter too.

Little Yeva is being brought up to be a proper lady, and yes - this is another "fate avoidance tactic". According to that accursed soothsayer, all Gardman-Aghbania women seem to share some inherent personality flaw that causes them to become self destructive, scheming monsters so I set Yeva on the path to becoming a cultured and refined young woman, who will be an asset to the court. Just like my lovely wife.

Some say I married beneath my station, but personally I think it's more down to the fact that beggars can't be choosers. I'm an ugly bugger, and Nane has seen past that, and loyally borne me two lovely children. Plus, she gets to call herself "countess" and wear pretty dresses, but I doubt that's got anything to do with it.

There's also some wits who suggest marrying into the Gardman-Aghbania name is "marrying beneath your station" for lowborns, but those particular wits are currently strapped out on the mountain side staring up at the circling vultures.

Speaking of vultures, here are the capable and loyal souls who help me keep Suenik the fun, interesting and safe(ish) place that we know and love.

Vahag (whose name sounds like a greeting you'd yell when jumping out on someone unexpectedly) and Ivane are basically morons, but they're the best of a bad bunch. Vahag (VA-HAG!!!!) is also from Dwin - our neighbours to the west - so his weird accent gets on my nerves too. I'm going to get rid of the pair of them just as soon as someone more capable shows up. Which I'm willing to bet is going to be the next visitor to my court. Or their pet vulture.

I need to learn to be careful what I wish for though. Turns out I might be getting a visitor sooner rather than later, but said visitor is probably going to be riding on a pale horse.

That's a Biblical reference by the way, for those of you slow on the uptake.

Death.

Death is probably going to show up in Suenik shortly, in the form of a disease, which messengers assure me is sweeping the known world.

Thankfully, as the wise and just ruler of Suenik, I know just what to do.

Now, I don't want anyone to think I'm desperate or anything. Or that I'm the sort of guy who just grabs the first solution to come to hand. I don't want them to think that I panic, just because - nay ESPECIALLY because - I hear rumour of a horrible disease running rampant throughout the Byzantine Empire. No, I want them to know that I take my time and consideration over such life and death matters as choosing my court physician.

Ok, so I lie. I completely flipped out when I heard that there was a pandemic bearing down on my county like an angry bull, and I more or less yelled "YOU'LL DO!" to the first butcher who answered my call.

He's got one eye and he's cheap - how bad could it get? I'm very confident that this decision will not come back to haunt me.

As I'm fretting over the impending tidal wave of disease about to spew itself over my lovely little demesne, my wife joyfully announces that we will be having another child. I say "WE" - clearly "SHE" is the one having the child. SHE is the one who gets to bear it for nine months and contend with all the hormonally induced psychosis that it brings and...actually, who am I kidding? If this is anything like the time when she was pregnant with Yeva, I'm going to have to spend nine months walking on eggshells, lest my slightest remark set her off into a frenzy of blubbering and wailing; a state of misery that is occasionally livened up by a guest appearance from her "angry accusatory voice" which can only be described as being delivered at the same volume that one normally reserves for commanding cavalry, and which packs the emotional punch of a swarm of bees.

Angry bees.

Angry bees that are angry because they're on fire.

Thankfully the nine months pass in a state of (relative) marital bliss, and we are blessed with another son!

I'm not a fan of vowels as you can tell.

So far, the dreaded plague hasn't made an appearance, so I take the time to tour All I Survey (it takes me a good couple of hours) and I bump into some odd looking gentlemen who convince me that if I invest in something called a Trade Post, they can help make me wealthy beyond my wildest dreams.

I agree to invest in building this, but I don't hold them to the "wildest dreams" part. In my time I've had some fairly racy dreams - that one with the three Armenian priestesses, the Coptic Pope and a camel was insane; there was literally no humanity in what they were doing for my amusement.

Banking on the fact that I'm going to be rich, I strike a deal with one of my barons (ok, my ONLY baron) whereby I'll ask him for less cash every month, in turn for him making more soldiers available in time of war.

He seems to think that this is a great idea, and readily agrees. Then, he pauses, blanches and says "We're not going to war, are we?" I give him a confident "No, silly!" but temper this with "...oh, and you do know we're surrounded by angry Muslims, right?"

Grigor, inspirer of underlings!

Oh, and while I'm splashing the cash, I also decide to by my wife a buzzard.

Because what do you give the woman who has everything, right?

We're about to take it (she's called it "Mleh" for some reason) out for it's maiden flight, when a breathless messenger spits out some grim tidings before collapsing in a heap on the floor.

I have the guards spear him, drag him outside and burn the body to prevent the disease from spreading further. Turns out, it wasn't the fever that had made him collapse, just a general unfamiliarity with physical exertion and cardio exercise, but you can never be too careful, right?

Speaking of which, I confer with the great and the good of the realm and decide that in a time of trouble and hardship, which affects everyone equally, from the lowliest peasant to the greatest in the land (which is yours truly in case anyone has forgotten) there is only one course of action to take.

Yup - lock out the filthy, unwashed masses!

Hopefully this plague business will sort itself out and then I can get back to the important business of running the realm!

Will the disease pass? Will untold thousands die? What of Mleh the Buzzard? Find out in the next exciting installment of Suenik Reloaded!

iain_a_wilson · Apr 15, 2017

SUENIK RELOADED
CHAPTER 2 - IT WAS THE CATS WHAT DID IT...
(1068 - 1072)

Plague is a serious business. I call my councillors together in the safety of my castle to discuss what we should do next.

Something's not right.

That is, something OTHER than the screams of anguish coming from the peasantry who are dying in their own filth on the other side of the thick stone walls that keep me safely cloistered away from Camp Fever...

I look at my councillors and realise what it is. Nobody is making a nuisance of themselves by ranting loudly about Christian Armenia taking a stand against the Infidel. Which, to be fair, i'm fine with - I could really do without some Emir hearing rumours like "Oh yeah, in Suenik they're really big into bashing Muslims. Stirring up a Crusade I hear..."

That being said, where IS Bishop Hovhannes?

Oh.

Awkward.

Guess he didn't get the note about the closing of the castle gates, huh?

A few months pass and I receive three bits of news. One welcome, one amusing an one not so welcome.

Firstly, my trade post has been built. Hurrah! Turns out, Suenik is slap bang in the middle of something called "The Silk Road". Lots of traders pass down it, and my wonderful trading post lets me tax them.

Success.

Secondly, my neighbour in Dwin is having a LOT of trouble with the local peasantry. They're led by some charismatic sort calling himself "The Liberator" who is doing a damn good job of liberating a lot of the current count's land.

I have a jolly good chuckle at this - I've been coveting ol' Dwin-chops' land for a while - but my chuckle turns into an angry squawk when my messenger lets me know that because Dwin is a war torn shithole, all the nice traders who I want to tax won't be swinging by my trading post any time soon.

The messenger also neglects to mention that regardless of the war, the traders would probably avoid my county anyway. Nasty diseases that are so severe that those infected end up having a gastric exorcism from both ends tend to produce an avoidance strategy in most sane folks.

Still, I appreciate my messenger's attempt at sparing my feelings.

More time passes...

Have any of you ever been locked away in a castle before? It gets boring REALLY quickly. Thankfully, my lovely wife and I manage to keep ourselves amused.

One of the problem with a plague, is that it's pretty hard, short of standing on the battlements and yelling "Everything ok down there?", to tell if it's still running its course. However, after a few months, we notice that things have got a LOT quieter outside - the banging on the gate (and the associated whizz of arrows) had ended a while back, but now even the screams of the dying have stopped.

Not sure how that's a "gain" but hey ho, I have a few guards test the water (so to speak) and it turns out that the time of pestilence is over. Hurrah!

Naturally, I have heralds proclaim around the land how I had spent every night piously in prayer, and how the good Lord has now clearly heard my petitions and decided to bless Suenik once again.

Some of the locals indicate my wife's swollen belly and mutter darkly. They're peasants, but they're not ALL stupid...

However, it's clear that a lot of them are CLEARLY mental...

No, it's not the cats.

That's just silly.

Go back to your farms.

Seriously? Cats? Really? REALLY?

The cats have fuck all to do with this. Go home.

I suggest to my marshal that he take the troops out and drill them on nearby farmland.

Was that some weird plague that killed off the healthy and left only the feeble-minded behind?

On a sadder note, my son and heir seems pretty ill. I pray that it's not Camp Fever and I summon my physician, imploring him to do anything and everything in his power to save Artavazd.

As he's working on him, I pace the corridors of my castle. I am worried sick (no pun intended) and most certainly NOT in the mood for any more cat related idiocy.

As if sensing my mood, my marshal springs into action...

The peasants disperse, muttering darkly to themselves about "a reckoning".

I LOOK FORWARD TO IT, BITCHES!

Speaking of reckonings, it seems like The Liberator next door has done his bit for Suenik, as the Silk Road reopens.

He's also (obviously) liberated his county from whomever it was it needed liberating from. The previous lord, I guess. Hmm - I wonder if cats featured anywhere in their disagreement?

Oh, and no laughing at the trade post - that's a lot of money from where I'm from!

Amidst the Trade Post Inauguration celebration, my physician announces the birth of my daughter.

I keep referring to her as "my little trade post".

Literally nobody, least of all her, finds this endearing.

With life in the county getting back to normal, I find myself dispensing justice like a proper Lord should.

The crack of the gallows clearly proves to be a hit with my wife who opines that she likes a "strong, decisive man"...

Ha! Gardman-Aghbanaian women, who'd have 'em...

Oh...

Wait...

Wasn't this just the sort of thing that fortune teller warned me against?

The royal pregnancy is announced around the realm, and in a show of spontaneous celebration, the local peasantry prove that anything their lord can do, they can do better...

Wow. I'm actually impressed. I mean, when I was in my castle, THOUSANDS died. These guys must breed like rabbits. That's a lot of dedicated peasant loving.

Urgh.

I actually was a little bit sick in my mouth there. I really didn't want to think of that. Now I won't ever be able to unthink that mental image.

Peasant loving...

Who even says stuff like that?

Urgh.

I disgust myself.

Somebody give me some good news to cheer me up...

Fortune Teller! We meet again...

What will Grigor do to the Fortune Teller? Will he show mercy? Will he ever be able to forget the image of peasants repopulating the countryside? Find out in the next exciting installment of Suenik Reloaded!

iain_a_wilson · Apr 16, 2017

SUENIK RELOADED
CHAPTER 3 - CAN'T THEY JUST TILL THE FIELDS?
(1072 - 1074)

Honestly! I've had more than enough of this superstitious nonsense! She is NOT a witch. Ok, so she's vaguely magical, but that's not the same thing.

Right?

RIGHT?

With a wave of my hand, I dismiss the peasants who are petitioning to have her burnt. They depart, amidst much grumbling and other seditious noises. Just before they skulk out of my court, one of them remarks "She's got a cat you know..." He then sees the look on my face, and realises that any more feline related shenanigans will probably be referred to in years to come by historians as "The event the sparked the Great and Bloody Purge of 1072 Where Many Peasants Were Messily Slaughtered".

When they have all left (although their stench still hangs in the air - I order more incense to be burned) the Fortune Teller turns to me and grins.

"Thank you oh, wise one. Although given what you've seen, I was surprised by your decision."

I flap my hands in a panicked manner and make shushing noises.

"Haha. Whatever can you mean, mistress? I'm a wise, modern ruler who doesn't let peasant superstition cloud his judgement!"

My words probably come out slightly more high pitched and hysterically than I intended (and people are staring) so I cough, clear my throat and indicate to the Fortune Teller that she should also probably leave, but via the castle's Secret Escape Tunnels (I always feel the need to capitalise their name for some reason) due to the fact that there is probably a mob with pitch forks and torches waiting by the gates to "escort her home".

I make the parenthesis with my fingers and feel bad for myself.

She nods, before placing her hand to her forehead and falling into a swoon. Her eyes roll back and she starts to shudder.

Oh please God, no. Not here. Not after I pardoned her.

As everyone stares dumbfounded, she starts moaning, and then the moans become words.

She's also doing some kind of scary voice. Why can't she ever tell fortunes in her normal voice?

"A blood red crescent moon shall rise in the sky, bathing the land in its baleful rays. Death shall follow in its wake, and the sons of the Cross shall suffer."

Then, as quickly as she started, she stops, picks herself up and grins.

"Right, sorry about that. Happens occasionally. Completely natural though. Absolutely nothing witchy about it at all."

She winks at me. And it's not just a normal wink either. It's a totally exaggerated, "this-is-our-little-secret" wink. Why did she have to wink? And why is she still talking?

"No sir. Nothing witchy here. Probably just something I ate and...why are you drawing your finger across your throat like tha...ah...ok... So, where are these tunnels?"

I have a guardsman hurry her away, and I smile in a "What-can-you-do?" way at my astonished courtiers.

Thankfully everyone is too polite to say anything, but I absolutely dread to think what the rumours will be like.

Especially if said rumours reach the peasantry who are already close to boiling over into a full fledged cat-related rebellion.

Not that I'm scared of peasants you understand.

It's just that there are rather a lot of them.

And poor people are quite scary when they're angry. Probably because of the whole "nothing to lose" bit...

Still, my anti-supertition stance seems to have gone down well with some people.

He believes I am the model of a modern ruler - one who is fit to drag this region out of the dark ages, and who is not troubled by superstition and other backward beliefs.

Naturally, he gets a job.

I also make sure that my heralds proclaim the bit about not being troubled by superstition all around the realm.

Just in case any rumours about harbouring a witch have got out.

In a bid to put the impending uprising of epic proportions out of my mind, I set to arranging some fitting marriages for my children.

I've always been a great admirer of the Greeks and everything that they've done for us, both culturally and socially.

What? Stop looking at me like that...

My wife is clearly appreciative of my efforts to create a dynasty to stand the test of time and decides that we should keep up the good work (so to speak)...

I'm in a great mood. My children have secure futures, my wife is happy, and the realm is at peace. Also, my new steward has done a great job of filling the royal coffers, and I'm able to start some great building projects across the land. Suenik is prospering!

Life is good.

Wait...

What's that noise?

Yes - that was the noise of "inevitability."

I look over the battlements and pale. There are rather a LOT of peasants out there.

More peasants than I have soldiers.

Still, at least there's not a blood red crescent moon in the sky, right?

What next for Grigor? Is Suenik doomed? Will the baleful rays of the blood red crescent moon drown everything? What even are baleful rays? Find out in the next exciting episode of Suenik Reloaded!

iain_a_wilson · Apr 18, 2017

SUENIK RELOADED
CHAPTER 4 - LIBERATION?
(1074 - 1077)

Welcome back to Suenik. Things are about to get hectic, so please pay attention...

To take my mind off the encroaching Swords of Islam, I have my marshal put the hordes of revolting (and I mean this in both senses of the word) peasants to the sword.

I have the tawdry little mudslinger who instigated this whole sorry affair publically executed. That'll hopefully send a strong (and bloody!) message to any cat obsessed rebels waiting in the wings.

However, it doesn't do anything about the encroaching Muslim hordes. I have my forces retreat to my castle, hunker down and await the inevitable.

My wise, Jewish chancellor points out to me that the Arabs, when they capture Christian rulers, tend to geld them and turn them into eunuchs, and then keep them around in their courts as status symbols.

I'm not sure what he means, so I ask him to explain it further.

He draws me a picture...

I'm honestly consider a trip off the battlements at this point, but knowing my luck I'd probably only cripple myself.

In an effort to cheer me up, my chancellor points out that the Arabs usually stone any captured Jews to death, so technically I'm the winner in this situation.

I ask him to be quiet.

Time passes...

Just as I'm about to considering asking cook if she stocks any poison, my herald announces the arrival of a visitor.

Who is this guy? It's only the Liberator of Dwin!

Naturally, I gratefully accept his offer with both sweaty, shaking hands! We will fight! Sound the call to arms! Light the beacons!

I stride out onto my battlements and observe my troops mustering...and then see the size of the army that the Liberator has brought with him...

It seems that he never bothered demobilizing the hordes of peasantry that rose up against the lord of Dwin and all seven thousand plus of them are ready and raring to go...

In one of those wonderful quirks of fate, both Arab forces choose that moment to show up.

There is a LOT of shouting, a LOT of fighting and a LOT of screaming...

The Arabs break on the wall of er...angry Dwinese peasants (and a few hundred Suenikians)...

Suenik is saved!

As I stride around the battle field, posing heroically for the court artists, I notice a familiar face struggling to free himself from under the bulk of his slain mount.

Oh happy, happy day...

Much as I'm tempted by my chancellor's suggestion to "do unto them as they would have done unto you" (delivered by him skipping round the captured Bey, clapping his hands and chanting "Geld him! Geld him! Gled him!") I go for the sensible approach, and ransom him back in return for a cessation of hostilities.

Word of my Arab capturing antics clearly gets out there, because I have another wise and mysterious Jew turning up, wanting to know if he could come and work for The Hammer of Islam.

I turn to my chancellor who shrugs in a "what can you do?" sort of way...

However, it's not all good news. While we are busy celebrating, the other Bey has regrouped, and attacks us from the flanks with two armies.

My Dwinese allies scatter to the winds ("We'll be back shortly!" the Liberator assures me as he rides like the wind for safety...) and my men hurry back to the safety of Suenik.

Bugger.

To make matters worse, my wife reports that my daughter, Vosgi, is ill. I summon my physician, Vahram, to help. Now, take a look at him. Vahram is a one eyed badass who is used to battlefield surgery. Is he really suited to helping a babe in arms?

He assures me he's qualified ("At the end of the day, it's all just meat bits, right sir?") and I foolishly trust his judgement.

ARGH!

The man's a howling wanker!

In a bid to make things up to me, he sets about a task more suited to his skill set.

Good - we're going to need more fodder when that horde of angry Muslims shows up to torch my castle...

My chancellor then turns up, looking sheepish, and asks me if I'd like the good news or the bad news.

I point out that real men always hear the bad news first.

He gulps.

Great. So I've just spent money and lives putting down a peasant revolt, and this clown, in a bid to squeeze money out of the self-same angry peasants, decides to rile them up again.

I ask what the good news is.

Apparently the good news is that the Arabs won't be here for another couple of days...

I tell him to get out of my sight before I decided to find out why the Arabs enjoy stoning Jews to death so much.

I'm furious.

Why have things gone from awesome to shit in such a short time span?

As if to highlight the point, I hear the pitiful, weak cries of a sick child echoing down the corridors. My poor little Vosgi! Why did she have to be cursed with illness? Why should sh...

Oh you've got to be kidding me...

Really?

REALLY?!?!?

Vahram offers to help.

I show him the "gelding picture" without saying anything. I let my eyes do the talking.

He leaves without a word, and I pray to God that Mzheh gets better.

I pray that EVERYTHING gets better, but I can't shake a feeling that it's all going to collapse in on me...

Will Grigor recover? Will Suenik be saved? Will somebody be on the receiving end of a good ol' gelding? FInd out in the next exciting episode of Suenik Reloaded!

iain_a_wilson · Apr 19, 2017

SUENIK RELOADED
CHAPTER 5 - DADDY, WHAT DOES "PYRRHIC" MEAN?
(1077 - 1081)

Early 1077 is not an amazing time to be Count of Suenik. My trusted councillors are incompetent, blithering idiots, my drafty, chilly castle is chock full of ill children, and the main reason it is so drafty and chilly (and probably the same reason that people keep falling ill) is that a horde of angry Muslims camped outside keep making holes in the walls via the medium of "lobbing bloody great rocks at it".

Seriously unfun times, my friends.

I sit brooding in the silence.

Hang on.

The silence?

Why has it all gone quiet all of a sudden?

I ask Vahram to take a look over the battlements and see what's happening. I'm still stressing about the siege engines - it would just be like Bey Ali to wait for me to pop my head outside before hurling a massive boulder at it - so there's no chance I'm heading up top.

He comes back with a big grin cutting across his ugly, child-injuring features.

"They've stopped, my liege."

"Stopped what?"

"Stopped sieging us, your grace."

I mentally correct the one-eyed dolt - it's BE-sieging...

"What do you mean 'stopped besieging us?"

Ok, so I lied - I can't NOT correct him...

He smiles.

"Exactly what I've said, my liege - they've dismantled all their siege engines. They're just kind of hanging around out there. I think some of them are having a picnic - I'm sure I saw them passing around gurgen-on-a-stick. And those ones that are puffing on those great pipe things that they love smoking so much, let's just say they're really not interested in tearing down any walls. Oh, we out number them almost two to one..."

Not one to look a gift child-harming-criminal in the mouth (or whatever that phrase is) I call the garrison to arms, and heroically see off the Bey's forces.

Now, it turns out that the only reason there was somewhat of a paltry force of incompetents left behind camping on my metaphorical lawn was because my good friend The Liberator was merrily rampaging through the territory of Al-Jazira (liberating one presumes), and Bey Ali had scuttled home to deal with him.

Still, that's not what the history books are going to record. They're going to recall that I, Grigor - saviour of Suenik - dragged the Bey of Al-Jazira to the negotiating table, and made him beg for forgiveness. I even have the court artists commission a statue in my likeness. Typically, I spend most of the time stressing about the details - the face REALLY isn't flattering and my nose isn't that big - but I can't complain (too much). I have secured peace in my time!

Bey Ali turns out to be a bit of an arsehole if I'm completely frank...

What even is a clown? And I've only got TWO grandfathers. How the hell do you have seven? Is that possible?

Regardless, the turn of events is pleasing. I can relax a little now. Chill out. Calm down. Take time to realise that life isn't one string of loosely connected disasters, that predictably follow in each other's wake, like carrion birds follow armies.

Oh, wait. What's the commotion?

I point out to my erstwhile council that while I'm no lawyer (I think one of my predecessors had them all killed in The Great and Bloody Day of Common Sense about a hundred years ago) I know that "covered in their blood" doesn't readily equate with "circumstantial".

There is a surprisingly good turn out for the hanging - and not all the peasants are incandescently furious. I notice that quite a few are wearing catskin hats though.

Honestly, I never realised that Armenia had such a large, indigenous cat population...

Or indigenous cats for that matter.

My good mood is spoiled somewhat by the Royal Nurseries announcing that young Yeva is showing a real flair for deceit and betrayal.

The Fortune Teller's words of "Beware the red hued devil, Mira..." jump into my head and I shudder. Especially when Yeva remarks that she'd like a piranha pool for her birthday...

Naturally, such worries prompt darker thoughts.

And foolishly, I utter them out loud.

I'm about to work myself into a frenzy of self loathing (and worry that the Almighty himself is taking a really, REALLY personal interest in my suffering) when my Bishop assures me that he can smooth everything over.

What a star, huh?

He also remarks that all it will require is a non-descript favour, to be returned at an undetermined time in the future from myself to him.

Well, there's no way that can backfire, so I readily agree.

The priests stop their jibber-jabber and get back to the business of making rude faces in the direction of all the irate Muslim nations that surround us...

AND PEOPLE WONDER WHY I'M STRESSED?

Asher gets it though. He seems my plight and he soothes my nerves. He let's me know that everything's going to be ok. He gives me the confidence that the realm is being properly looked after while I'm a bit under the weather. He understands the value of commerce to help our people prosper and thrive. He...

...IS AN INCOMPETANT ARSEHOLE WHO IS DETERMINED TO BRING EVERYTHING CRASHING DOWN AROUND MY EARS!!!!

I remind him how popular the hanging was earlier, and ask him if he thinks the local Christian population would be more or less excited to see a Jew swinging from the gallows.

He promises to swing by Vahram and make sure the troops are on stand by.

Idiots.

I'm surrounded by idiots.

To help protect myself against the unwashed hordes that are doubtlessly about to descend on the castle, AGAIN, I order some much needed construction.

Time passes, and there's no sign of torch wielding hordes descending upon the castle. I look at my little fort being built under the watchful eye (and I mean that literally) of Vahram and I dare to think that things are turning around. The realm is prospering, and even though it feels like I'm putting my heart and soul into it, that's not a bad feeling.

However, it looks like my wife takes my thoughts literally...

Vahram comes rushing upstairs yelling "MEDICAL EMERGENCY! MAKE WAY!" but I point him back in the direction of the fort. Even though she's dead I wouldn't trust him not to somehow make things worse.

My advisors meet to offer their condolences. Vahram was suitably cut up - he kept muttering "I could have saved her, dammit". God loves a trier.

It is decided, that with my new status of Defender of Christian Armenia (I make frantic "SSSH!" gestures - we're still surrounded on all sides by angry Muslims...) that I should pursue a marriage fitting for my standing. My chancellor offers to make the arrangements after a suitable period of moaning for the countess.

After a week he returns from the Kingdom of Georgia with glad tidings.

The "princess" is in fact about 97, has none of her own teeth left, and could be considered "wizened" in good light...

My son and heir, Artavazd< enquires as to whether he should refer to her as "mother" or "grandmother". Cheeky little sod.

He thinks he's awful quick witted, that lad, but I know that he's actually thoroughly average.

I don't know what it says about me (careful at the back...) but I make a massive song and dance about this, as if having a thoroughly bog standard son was somehow a cause for celebration.

I'm probably not the best parent in the world - Artavazd picks up on my criticism of him, and starts worrying that he's not good enough to take the reigns of Suenik. I try to reassure him, pointing out that you could drape a baboon in the Count's regalia and it would probably do an ok job. Unsurprisingly (some might say "like father, like son") he takes this to hear, and starts stressing over the fact that he might be out performed by a baboon.

I'm a terrible father.

Still, at least I've secured the future of the realm, right?

Slightly worried about the dark robe he insists on wearing, but I'm assuming it's just teen angsty and nothing more...sinister.

Ok, so Muslim hordes defeated?

Check.

Peasantry as calm as they can possibly be without my councillors giving them good reason to burn civilisation to the ground?

Check.

High standing amongst my peers?

Check.

Powerful neighbour who seems to like me and genuinely doesn't want to murder me and steal my land?

Check.

Youthful...no...that's not right...beautiful? No...that's not right either... Rich... wife?

Check.

Maybe.

Just maybe.

I can relax.

Please?

Will Suenik prosper? Will the councillors rile up the peasantry? What of Artavazd's black robe? Find out in the next exciting episode of Suenik Reloaded!

iain_a_wilson · Apr 21, 2017

SUENIK RELOADED
CHAPTER 6 - CURA TE IPSUM
(1081 - 1082)

My Glorious Reign of Peace and Prosperity is not off to an amazing start.

Suenik itself is doing well, but me? I feel AWFUL. Maybe it's down to all that action I saw leading the troops in the heroic defense of the realm? I decide to ask Vahram for his opinion. He might be rubbish at dealing with children, but he's a military man. He'll know what all these aches and pains are about.

...

Wow.

Way to go sugar-coating the bad news Vahram! Not even a "Oh, I'm not sure what this could be. Aches and pains? Could be a multitude of things my liege. Let me go and consultant my dusty tomes of medicine. You relax until I come back."

Nope - straight up "You've got cancer. You're going to die."

Top tip Vahram - you've got to work on your bedside manner.

Never the less, I ask him what the plan is.

He looks thoughtful...

I ask him if this is REALLY proper medicine. Like, proper medicine that cures people. The kind that saves lives... He assures me it is. The countess looks at me, inhales and turns her nose up. She remarks that I smell like a French man's lunch, before turning on her heel and waltzing out.

I'm furious! How dare she talk to me like that!

And what even is a French?

I turn to lambast my physicians...

Great.

Projectile vomiting mid rant. Do I have no dignity left? At least it's only from the front end, if you know what I mean?

I have Vahram's assistants clean up my mess, and I retire to my chambers trying to remain as vaguely regal as possible...

...which is not easy when you are covered in your own vomit and stinking of onions.

Before I settle down, Vahram rushes up with another cunning plan.

In my fatigued state, I agree to it. Anything's better than how I feel at the moment.

Although, I'm beginning to suspect that Vahram is full of shit.

But I'm too tired to care.

I wake up feeling AWFUL. REALLY, REALLY, SOUL-CRUSHINGLY AWFUL.

Still, if I'm going to take ANY silver lining out of this, Vahram WAS right. So maybe he's not entirely useless after all!

Right?

I summon him again and tell him he has to save me. Without me, Suenik will falter and be crushed under the heels of the invading Turkish hordes. And I'm not sure my son's ready. Everything's just a mess.

I tell him to do whatever he thinks is necessary.

He looks thoughtful and fetches me a tall glass of clear liquid.

"Drink this, my lord, and everything will be better."

!!!

HE REMOVED ONE OF MY EYES???

My fury knows no bounds. This man is an idiot. An incompetent fool who almost killed my daughter and who has now maimed me for life.

He stands at the end of my bed, looking expectantly at me for approval. Despite the pain I smile, before opening my mouth and yelling "GUARDS!"

The captain of the guard, a hulking brute called Toros (manliest of manly names) asks me what they should do with the prisoner.

I have a think.

An idea pops into my head.

"Blind him."

My bishop is almost giddy with delight. He keeps mumbling about "an eye for an eye" and about how my righteous, holy justice will be talked about for centuries to come.

He makes an interesting point, though. Modern science, despite being filtered through the incompetent lens that was Vahram, has failed to find me a cure. I should be putting my faith in the Church and their power to heal, so I put out the word that I require the services of a faith healer.

Dear Lord - this woman sounds thoroughly disgusting, but if she's able to cure lepers with her tongue, chances are she'll be able to sort me out no problem at all.

Wow - that sounded far filthier than I intended it to...

Also, the scab eating part. Urgh. I was a little bit sick in my mouth just thinking about that.

None the less, I have her brought to me, we discuss my condition, and we talk about treatment.

I'm also very clear on what happened to Vahram when he royally screwed everything up last time. Almasd tells me to relax, and trust in her abilities. She is holy, and wise and I won't feel a thing. Once again I am offered a tall glass with a clear liquid in it...

When I awaken she grins down expectantly and tells me that everything went well.

I ask about the searing rivers of agony that are coming from my face.

She tells me not to worry about the mask - that it's a temporary thing and that I'll be able to remove it in a few weeks.

It's medicinal apparently.

And holy.

She also assures me that there's also literally no chance that the surgery will have left vile, disfiguring wounds.

She's holy, you see, and holy healing (TM) is good and pure and never leaves any marks.

Why's she nervously wringing her hands like that?

She definitely doesn't think that my subjects will refer to me as Grigor the Monster or Grigor the Thrice Cursed or Grigor the Fell Beast From the Pit Marked By The Lord For His Sins In Life.

She also leaves very quickly...

Months pass, and I remove the mask to see how I'm looking. Here's hoping I'll see the happy (yet one-eyed) face of the old Grigor staring back at me.

Urgh.

Urgh...

I REALLY don't feel well now.

I thought she was a faith healer?

What about all that stuff about curing lepers with her tongue? Her bloody holy tongue has only ripped half my face off!

Oh I don't feel good about this at all.

I....

*THUD*

What now for Suenik? Will Count Artavazd be able to make Suenik prosper? Will he carry on his father's legacy? What of the Faith Healer? Find out in the next exciting episode of Suenik Reloaded!

iain_a_wilson · Oct 19, 2018

SUENIK RELOADED
CHAPTER 7 - THE IGNOBLE HISTORY OF ARTAVAZD GARDMAN-AGHBANIA
(1082 - 1103)

When historians look back on the reign of Artavazd Gardman-Aghbania (affectionally known as "The Wicked" by his subjects for reasons that will soon become abundantly clear) they will doubtlessly consider it to be a period of mixed fortunes. On one hand, Count Artavazd markedly increased the strength and prosperity of his late father's humble holdings, to the extent that he was able to expand into neighbouring territories and style himself as the Duke of Azerbaijan.

On the other hand - and in this case the other hand is a fearful clawed talon dripping blood - Duke Artavazd was a crazied, maniacal, devil-worshipper, who cavorted with demons, murdered his subjects, delighted in torturing the poor and helpless and who oversaw a reign of terror the likes of which the good people of Suenik had never before experienced. Altars were defaced, priests murdered, churches burned, the rate of abductions soared, and those that displeased the Duke were found struck down with crippling illnesses and festering pox.

So yeah - a mixed bag largely. It seems that Count Grigor's assumption that his son's wearing of black robes was merely an angsty, teeny phase was...er...woefully misguided.

Fate, though, played its part, and in the year 1103 Duke Artavazd passed away from supposedly "natural causes".

To be honest, the accounting given here is fairly mild. When Satan and all his little demons do a "previously on..." for Artazvazd's life, and gather all the minions of hell around for a game of "Let's guess the soon-to-be-tortured-horribly-for-all-eternity Duke's top five favourite sins" Pride ain't going to feature on that list. The smart Suenikian money (if there is such a thing) will be on things like "lust", "wrath" and "beating your foes to death with their own severed limbs whilst feasting on other parts of their body."

Oh, and "natural causes"? It's fair to say that this might by the scholars trying to white wash history a teeny-weeny bit as Artazvazd's proclivities were fairly well known throughout the Duchy, and the company of holy knights that caught up with him one summer's evening looked a lot angrier than "natural causes".

Unless of course you assume divine wrath equates to natural causes for infernalists in which case we can allow them the poetic license.

Anyway, the late 11th century was also a ton of fun and games for western Europe when shiploads of feather-wearing, blood-crazed, still-beating-heart-ripping-from-chests lunatics from abroad showed up on the shores of North Africa and started a diabolical reign of terror to rival that of Artavazd. In fact, the word "diabolical" is not mere hyperbole in this case, because - as Artazvazd was well aware - the monarch of these so called "Aztecs" was none other than Artazvad's coven leader.

Small world, huh?

So, I hear you ask, what of Suenik? What's going to happen to it as the Western World burns? Well, after the chaos of Artavazd's reign, it sounds pretty much like they need a steady hand on the wheel.

A dependable, strong leader.

Someone not prone to rash judgement and whimsy.

A rock that will stand firm in the storm.

Definitely not a mess of mixed up emotions and contradictions.

Oh.

Well, at least he doesn't have any of his father's tendencies.

WAA WAA WAA.

Will Duke Vahag rescue Suenik from the mire of decades of neglect? Will he avoid his father's old coven? What of the Aztecs? Find out in the next exciting episode of Suenik Reloaded!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, it's been over a year, but you can blame the fact that I've moved my family to another continent which has been a fairly time consuming business

Long story short AAR wise, I lost the various screen shots from Artavazd's reign, but it wasn't pretty. I'd basically bought CKII and all the DLC without having any real idea of the content. When I took over Artavazd he was second highest ranking in Lucifer's Own and I basically had a ton of fun utterly exploiting this for all it was worth...and didn't stop to think that all my overt evilness would probably be noticed. Which it was... Anyway, this brings us bang up to date, so expect more soon!

iain_a_wilson · Oct 21, 2018

SUENIK RELOADED
CHAPTER 8 - PUTTING THE "HERE" INTO HERESY
(1103 - 1106)

Vahag.

That's Aremenian for "not a devil worshipper like my brother".

The court here is in chaos after his reign.

Nobody trusts anyone.

The graveyards are overflowing.

We're only just getting the blood off the walls.

Take a look at my council, for example - most of the seats are empty!

So that's three seats I need to fill. At least Count Artavaz stuck with me...hang on.

COUNT ARTAVAZD?

He LOOKS just like my brother.

He has my brother's NAME.

He's even wearing my brother's signature black robe!

Could it be...

No.

It's just my nephew.

Who's inherited his dad's name and black robe...

Phew.

Thought I was seeing things for a moment there.

You'll be wearing a robe like that soon.

What was that?

Am I hearing things too?

Weird.

However, the lad - fashion proclivities aside - seems to be more than up to the role of chancellor. Young Artavazd assures me that I have a legal right to bring some place called Semender into the Duchy. The current Count doesn't seem too inclined to join, so Artavazd recommends a military solution.

It's a splendid idea - nothing brings a divided kingdom together like a common enemy to rally against.

...and it's all rather short lived. It appears that the people of Semender, despite having a tough-talking leader, are in no mood for a fight and pretty much roll over at the first sign of trouble. Not that I'm complaining - the less would-be-subjects I have to butcher the better!

My wife seems rather taken with my new, title and bearing. She croons that she like a "strong decisive man who takes charge of things". I think it reminds her of "the good old days" when I viciously and bloodily murdered her cousin. Seems that some women just seem to crave power. It's an aphrodisiac apparently!

However, as with all things Suenikian, it appears that this was not to be a happy occasion. When my father arranged a marriage for me with Tamari he assured me that her "robust figure" was ideally suited to child bearing.

A lie it seems.

I knew the chunky wench was a bit too fond of game pie.

To help secure the dynasty, I send messengers out far and wide to secure a new bride for me. Artavazd recommends some 16 year old who he claims is a genius (and who isn't liable to eat herself to death).

Bishop Mleh (one of my late brother's favourites and also holder of the moniker of "the Wicked") points out that he's not sure of her as she's "strangely brown" and "probably an infidel". Artazvad assures me she's as much of a good Christian as he is, so I tell him to go ahead and arrange the wedding - the glory of marriage will far out weigh the grumblings of my court over her supposedly "low birth".

As we are feasting and enjoying the wedding (I had to miss Tamari's funeral - God rest her soul) news reaches me that the these so called Aztecs who are causing so many problems in the West may have problems of their own.

However, if it is annoying them, the Aztec's don't seem to show it, and instead respond in their singular - slightly over-the-top - manner.

Classic Aztecs.

To further celebrate my wedding, and my forthcoming deluge of genius children (I'm assured that this is the natural product of breeding some one of my sophistication with my new wife) I rename the Duchy in honour of my ancestors.

If I'm honest, it's a lot easier to spell than the old name, and if someone were to chronicle the life and times of the rules of Suenik this would make the scribe's job less difficult in the long run (and probably reduce the length of said chronicle by several pages!)...

Things seem to be going well. The coffers are frequently fully, the peasants are happy and the chaos that my brother instituted seems to have slowly resolved itself.

Life is good, calm and peaceful.

Artazvazd! How could you! Who was led you from the true path? What has caused you to stray? Are the sins of the father truly visited upon the child? I call Bishop Mleh to investigate. I demand to know of the seed that caused this heresy to sprout!

A few months later Mleh comes back into court with a "told you so" smirk plastered across his face and points out that Artavazd wasn't the only courtier approached and asked to join this heretical movement.

No! My dear Tintifawin! Even though your name sounds like a mining village in Wales, I never thought this would happen! I just assumed Mleh's prejudice towards you was more casual racism than anything else.

This is absolutely bloody hilarious.

What am I to do? I know - I'll talk her round. After all, the shining love that I bear for her in my heart will surely be more than enough to eclipse the foul beliefs that have taken hold of her.

Oh.

What next for Suenik? Will Vahag manage to talk Tintifawin down? What of the black robes? What is the voice that Vahag keeps hearing? Find out in the next exciting episode of Suenik Reloaded!

iain_a_wilson · Feb 15, 2022

PEOPLE WATCH
1220

I thought it was time that we take a short break from the insanity of Artashes' day to day and instead have a quick look at what's happening in the wider world.

First up, the map...

Nothing exceptional here apart from (of course) the ruddy great Mongol Empire. Artashes tells himself that if it wasn't for those Mongols, Suenik would be vast and expansive. Telling himself this keeps his dismay at not being a mighty conqueror in check...

Next up, some people... Now, whenever I do a people watch I like to look at the outliers - those little rarities that might be kicking about the map. So, I decided to see how the Aztecs were getting on, given that they launched their invasion pretty early.

Oh - only two left...

Wait.

That can't be right.

I remember them being all conquer-y back in the day. Have they REALLY chucked it all away?

As it turns out, no they haven't. They control most of Iberia and Morocco, and have rebranded themselves as the Kharakhanid Khaganate. Clearly they had a massive change of heart where religion was concerned when they arrived in Europe, as their current leader is Sunni, but he's also sympathetic to Jewish and Christian religions! So much for ripping out the hearts of your foes upon pyramids stained with lakes of blood. The Aztecs got soft when they settled in lovely, sunny Iberia.

Also, I'm amused by the irony of them occupying modern day Spain.

Speaking of religion, what's the world like in 1220?

This is the reason I keep getting all those Greeks knocking down my doors to tell me about how amazing it is being Orthodox...

Also, it must suck to be Sunni. They've got dozens of provinces following their ways, and yet they have less moral authority that Nestorians who have a grand total of 0 counties adhering to their faith.

Must. Try. Harder.

I blame the crusaders.

Now that we've looked at religion, let's take a peek at the great and good of the land. First up, we have THE most prestigious person in the CK world at the moment.

Curiously, he's also the king of France's peon, which is odd. However, he has managed to take a huge great chunk out of said King's realm which makes this doubly confusing.

Something that should be comforting to ardent Suenikites is the fact that a surprising amount of very important people in the CK world are in fact lunatics. And by that I don't mean "Oh look at him - he's curaaaaaaazeeeee!" but instead "He's actually certifiably insane".

There is hope for Suenik yet! Look at the king of France - he woke up one day and said "I'm changing my name to 'mash the keyboard and see what happens'".

The "overachiever of 1220" award goes to the King of Scotland who, despite being a legitimised bastard, managed to take the throne from his other - legitimate - brothers.

Although, given his martial stat that shouldn't be surprising!

Also high on the "double hard bastard" board is the Count of Östergötland. No, I didn't know where it was either (apologies to any Swedish readers!) but he has tenaciously held out against all of those around him who want to absorb his tiny county.

Again, looking at his martial stat, you can see why.

I mentioned early that the big old blob of Mongols is very frustrating to Artashes' dreams of conquest. However, if they weren't in the way, I've got a feeling he would go straight for this guy, solely so he could claim his crest.

Finally, it appears that the Protector General of the Western Protectorate is a Protector General in name only. For whatever reason, his Mongol overlords are happy to claim land in his name, but he never gets to rule any of it. Neither does he, it seems, get that funky hat that the Protector General normal gets...

It's a small detail, but if I had a cool title like "Protector General" I'd insist on a mad hat that oozes authority.

I hope you enjoyed that short peek into the world of Artashes in 1220. Next up - back to the story!

iain_a_wilson · Feb 15, 2022

Also, bonus fun fact, Artashes is now my second longest reigning monarch. He's on just over 29 years, whereas Duke Vahag I has the record at 32. Anyone care to bet on whether he'll take the crown (pun intended)?

iain_a_wilson · Feb 16, 2022

SUENIK RELOADED
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.

8

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.

iain_a_wilson · Oct 23, 2018

SUENIK RELOADED
CHAPTER 9 - ...AND EVERYONE HAD A GREAT TIME
(1106 - 1109)

I'm still in a bad mood over Tintifawin's refusal to convert. The Middle East is a volatile region, and the slightest little religious spark can set off a massive conflagration. However, Tintifawin's smart - that's the reason I married her after all - so I know that she'll tread lightly. I don't want to take direct action against her, she knows this, so I just know she'll keep a low profile.

Dear Lord! Rather than keep a lid on things, she's taken to having public slagging matches with Bishop Mleh. That's Mleh "The Wicked" for those of you who haven't been paying attention.

I like this one.

The whole court is in an uproar. Mleh is darkly alluding to public pyres, whilst Tintifawin is raging about "the opression of the patriarchy". I don't even understand the last point - we're not Orthodox are we?

Still, things slowly begin to settle down and we manage to go several months without a major heresy or threats of religious violence.

All is calm.

All is at peace.

It doesn't last.

Oh great.

Now, I know Jerusalem is a long way away, but I'm willing to bet my bottom dollar that we could soon see Crusaders who "have got lost" rampaging through the Byzantine empire and into my realm. The fact that we're literally bursting at the seams with heretics is sure to make the highlands of Suenik a strong draw for the discerning Crusader who wants to see the sights and sounds of Aremnia before returning home...

To make matters worse, my idiot son appears to have fallen under the sway of the recently humbled and somewhat bitter count of Semender.

My little face must be a mask of despair, because Tintifawin comes to make, takes my hand, and assures me that "everything is going to be alright". Ignoring the prattling of my court, she takes me for a long walk through the countryside. The beautiful Aremenian scenery, the sun riding high in the deep blue sky, and the witty, intelligent conversation from my lovely (if ever so slightly heretical) wife cause my spirits to soar! What is this feeling?

I ignore the rumblings of war and dissent and just bask in this unusual - but very welcome feeling.

Sucker - this is Suenik. Keep drinking the Cool Aid...

Despite an internal monologue telling me that this is all going to crash and burn, I revel in my new found happiness.

The feeling is spreading, My two sons - previously at each other's throats - seem to becoming fast friends.

Truly, Suenik is the land of the blessed!

Oh yeah - apart from the odd psychotic Suenikian woman trying to kill me of course! I don't let this dampen my spirits - I order her arrest, and when that fails I start conspiring with others to drop her into the royal piranha pool.

I even hold a party to celebrate my good spirits.

As usual though, some people have too much of a good thing and I'm told that there's some rowdy behaviour. "What's that?" I chuckle. "Some bawdy songs? Chasing after wenches? A little bit of a tussle?"

Bloody hell! I don't know what's more disturbing; Artazvazd's massive over-reaction (I bet it's got something to do with the black robe and his dubious parentage) or the fact that everyone else seems completely fine with this...

I drink a LOT to forget about that night, and as such, when I am awakened rudely the following day, I'm feeling somewhat tender. I'm sure you all know what it's like to wake up with a massive hangover. Your head feels like it's going to burst, there's a nausea the likes of which you've never felt swirling with hurricane-like intensity within your gullet, and your throat feels like you've gargled a mixture of gravel, burning coals and mangy badger fur. Therefore, it's best that people tread careful around you, that they let you adjust to the new day, and that they don't expose you to great shocks.

What next for Vahag? Will he be able to field off the invaders with the hangover from hell? Will the servants ever manage to clear up after the greatest feast Suenik has ever seen? Find out in the next exciting episode of Suenik Reloaded!

iain_a_wilson · Oct 26, 2018

SUENIK RELOADED
CHAPTER 10 - DID YOU JUST THROW A CHICKEN AT ME?
(1109 - 1111)

I bet you were all worried after last episode?

I bet you were all thinking "Poor Vahag. Those Seljuks are going to make minced gurgen out of him."

Pah - naysayers.

Thankfully, I've got two secret weapons in my arsenal.

Secret weapon number one - the viscious Seljuk minor royal who's attacking me is doing so on his own. I don't know if this is some crazy rite of passage or whatever, but he clearly thinks he's up to the job. If he'd brought along any relatives I'd be screwed.

Second secret weapon?

Jewish money lenders.

Plus I have a good chuckle at the thought of hiring Turks to kill other Turks.

My steward assures me that the moniker "Turkic" might actually just be an indication of their locality rather than a confirmation of their nationality, but I tell him to stop being a smart arse and to let me enjoy the moment.

Mercenaries secured, I strap on my armour, mount my mighty steed and lead my people to war.

FOR THE GLORY OF SUENIK!

Five months of dodging arrows in the desert later I decide that there's pressing matters back in the capital that need to be dealt with... Honestly, slitting the throats of my ex-wife's relatives is a lot easier than this, and really didn't prepare me for war...

Arriving back to a hero's welcome (I've hired the best storytellers in the land to go ahead of me) I'm greeted by Bishop Mleh who looks VERY pleased with himself.

My first thought?

"What's she done?"

My second thought?

"Tell me it was a painless end. Tell me you didn't burn her alive in public."

He smiles like a shark.

A nasty shark that hasn't really looked after his teeth.

I'm overjoyed (not to mention slightly amused by the name of Mleh's temple town - it REALLY suits him).

My wife comes to meet me - my God she looks radiant now that she's not a filthy heretic!

She puts a hand on my shoulder, pulls me close, and whispers softly in my ear...

It causes a massive uproar, but it's utterly worth it to see the look on my ex-Steward's face. That'll teach you to correct me on matters of mercenary geography you snivelling little son of a gurgen!

The first order of business that my new steward brings to me is a serious one. One, she says, that is worth to me mediated only by a war hero of my stature.

My wife has a very unique sense of humour.

Regardless, I go to sort the matter out. However hard can it be to mediate between a bunch of illiterate goat herders?

For the love of God! Am I not safe even in my own realm?

My wife assures me that I was very brave, and says that she knows just what will help me forget about the nasty business with the chicken.

My last steward would never have done that for the realm...

A few months pass, the war is going well, the people are happy (save for a certain two peasant families of course) and all feels good with the world.

I ask my chancellor to poll the people. What do they think of their noble ruler? What are the calling him? Not that I'm looking for plaudits of course, but I'm pretty sure "glorious" or "protector" might feature in the replies.

Jeez. Only in Suenik...

However, the war continues to go well. We receive news that the men have captured my foe's wife.

She's shrieking and terrified. As she's brought before me she jabbers "Please! Have mercy! I have heard of this place! Of these dungeons! They are an altar to Satan! All who pass within stand to have their soul mercilessly offered up to the Prince of Darkness in the bloodiest and most foul manner imaginable!"

I roll my eyes.

"You're mistaking me for my brother."

I turn to my chancellor "Ask her husband how much he'll pay to have her back."

I swear she looks disappointed.

A few weeks later and I receive this:

Yes!

Christian supremacy is confirmed! The foe crashed against the rock that was Suenik and broke! Victory is mine!

I look proudly down from my turret and see the people dancing in the streets; revelling their little hearts out. Turning to my chancellor - slightly misty eyed, I'm not ashamed to say - I smile and gesture at them.

"A great day."

"That it is, my liege."

"A glorious victory for Christendom."

"THE most glorious day, sire. Who would have thought we'd have seen Jerusalem liberated in our lifetime."

"Indeed. I think...HANG ON. WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

"Jerusalem. Liberated. From the heathens. That's why the people are celebrating."

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't hear?"

"Oh."

"Is it not glorious news, sire."

"Well, it is. However..."

"Yes, my liege?"

"I kind of thought they were celebrating - you know - our glorious victory."

"I'm sure they're very happy about that too."

"Just not as happy as they are about Jerusalem being liberated?"

"Well, it IS Jerusalem, sire, is it not?"

What next for Vahag? I period of peace and prosperity? Dark plots and scheming? What of the Satanists? Find out in the next exciting episode of Suenik Reloaded!

iain_a_wilson · Oct 28, 2018

SUENIK RELOADED
CHAPTER 11 - PASS ME THE KNIFE AND WHETSTONE
(1111 - 1114)

So, let's recap on how we left the Duchy.

Celebration?

Check.

Partying?

Check.

General merriment?

Check.

The sweet, sweet taste of victory?

Check, check, check.

Good.

We're all caught up.

Anyone curious how things are going now?

Care to make any bets?

So, how did we get here? Why is the Count of Semender running from my guards and raising a hue and cry? Turns out, he thought he could do a better job as Duke than yours truly, and thus spent a fair proportion of his time (and, one supposes, money) running around the Duchy trying to get others to rally to his cause. Thankfully, I got wind of the scheme but, Suenik being Suenik, I employ cretins as guardsmen and they let him get away.

Still, it's going to be over very quickly - my forces vastly outnumber his - so the sort of person who would rally to HIS banner is clearly some kind of gutterbred moron; the kind of giggling beast who has difficulty walking and breathing at the same time, and therefore not exactly the kind to help mastermind a palace coup.

Curious piece of trivia - the Count of Shemahka, Semender's partner in crime, is my son and heir.

Seriously, this bloody place...

Oh, and there's this too.

Turns out that Semender isn't content with just trying to off me!

Sadly for him though, his ambition really doesn't match up to his ability. He is crushed on the field of battle and we get back to the status quo.

He also REALLY begins to regret his decision to target my wife. For those of you unaware of the fact, Suenikian women, even those that marry into the place, are WAY worse than the men. I think it's something about the mountain air, but they turn into bloody savages. Tintifawin whispers in my ear "Let me decide on his punishment, darling." Ever one to please my wife (and, to be quite frank, I'm slightly terrified of the look in her eyes) I tell the light of my life that the dungeons are hers.

I share a look with my guards that says "You know what happens next time you let someone go rather than catch them."

They get the message.

That night, in the bedchamber, I'm a more nervous lover than I've ever been and she's just won't stop smiling...

This place is terrifying.

Curiously, my nephew - he of the goth fashion trends - seems to share my wife's enthusiasm for the chopping block.

Things settle down to normal after this (although I honestly can't look Tintifawin in the eye whenever she orders sausages at breakfast) and I look to the well being of my people. My chancellor - in a bid to heal the wounds caused by Chickenthrowing-gate - comes to me and informs me of a delightful tradition that the local peasants have and suggests we support it.

Naturally I agree.

Naturally, this turns into a veritable shitstorm of misunderstanding and violence because this is Suenik and nothing means anything anymore...

There's a lot of the buggers, but they foolishly try to divide and conquer - apparently the two families involved in Chickenthrowing-Gate still can't abide each other and decide to race each other to put the realm to the torch.

I beg to differ, and I inform my Sun and My Stars that she's going to get more fodder for her chopping block.

Wonderful.

I decide to celebrate by calling a feast to toast my mighty warriors (and, to be honest, to drown out the heart-rending screams and spine-chilling cackles coming from the dungeons) and everyone agrees that this is a splendid idea.

Even the Count of Semender agrees to attend.

My warriors gathered, I pour some wine and raise a glass to toast them.

What next for Vahag? Will he drink the poisoned wine? Who's behind the poisoning? Does Tintifawin need to get the chopping block out again? Find out in the next exciting instalment of Suenik Reloaded!

iain_a_wilson · Nov 1, 2018

SUENIK RELOADED
CHAPTER 12 - AMATEUR HOUR
(1114 - 1122)

Last time we left Suenik I was poised with a glass of odd smelling wine touching my lips; a mere wrist tilt away from the sweet, sweet release of death.

What's going to happen next?

Are we going to have a new king?

Of course not!

This is Suenik, and as befits it, the scheme to murder me is orchestrated by a bunch of no talent ass clowns.

My nephew and the mighty Eunuch of Semender couldn't orchestrate a gurgen-roast in the desert (or whatever that phrase is) and the master mind behind the scheme...actually, I have no idea who she is.

Why does she hate me?

I ask the royal cartographers to research her coat of arms and find out where she's from.

The answer?

Far, far away.

Now that IS very Suenik - the fact someone from some far away land whom I have never met wants to kill me for no good reason...

Also, isn't my dearest nephew meant to be in the dungeons after the whole "spilt wine and slit throats" incident at my feast?

What's he doing free to plot and scheme against me?

I demand answers!

Sadly, I get them.

My chancellor informs me - with a suitable look of terror in his eyes and a backward cringe in his step as he explains it - that it was I who signed off Artavazd's release. He shows me the document, complete with a royal seal.

How strange.

Hehe.

I really should cut down on the day drinking.

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: During last episode's castrate the prisoner shenangians I found that I had a TON of prisoners left in my dungeon from the previous Duke's Satan worshiping days. I therefore decided to ransom off those that could be ransomed...forgetting that one of them *I* had imprisoned in the previous episode...)

Thankfully, my dear nephew Artavazd proves to be a craven coward and, in a very Suenikian way, surrenders before my troops have even got halfway out of my castle grounds!

Vahag the terrible (NOT the accursed)! Just the word of his ire is enough to send his subjects into fits of paralysing fear!

I ask the royal heralds to proclaim something like this around the lands, and it seems to have the desired effect on some of the local peasants who would rather be left alone to...to do whatever it is that peasants do. I think it involves plants and animals.

Man - that sounded filthy.

While my peasants are capering around chanting "Ooh! Aah! Ar-meeeeeen-i-aaaaaah!" I try and decide what to do with my errant nephew. I ignore Tintifawin who is jumping up and down eagerly in the background, holding her hand in the air and yelling "Me! Me! Me! I know what to do with him!" and mull over my options.

On one hand, I got simply feed him to the Royal Piranhas, and never have to worry about him again, but people already hate me - some of them far, far away - for a little murder I did a while back, and I'm advised that if I kill a relative, my stock is going to plummet further.

On the other hand, I could toss him down a well, into the bowls of the dungeon and forget about him completely.

My wife nods and then adds "Or, you could cu..." but I cut her off with a wave of my hand.

Well it is.

With a quick boot to the chest and a cry of "This...is....SUENIK!!!!!" I consign my errant nephew to a life of misery and despair in the deepest, darkest hole I can find.

Man - that sounded filthy too. What the hell is on my mind?

If only you knew, little man...

So, one plotter dealt with, I turn my attentions to another. I decide to put on a festival for the local peasantry to celebrate all that is amazing about Armenian culture. There's also a massive spread of food - lots of meat is on offer which the peasants ravenously devour.

Everyone goes home satisfied - some of them remarking that the feast had some of the finest pork they've ever tasted.

Satisfied that I'm not going to wake up with a tiger in my bedroom (other than Tintifawin when she's in THAT mood) I spend a few months enjoying the wonder that is my realm.

The beautiful scenery.

The delightful people.

The non-hostile neighbours that want to live in peace and harmony.

The rich bounty of the harvest.

Seemingly mirroring nature's love for Suenik, my wife comes to me, radiant and glowing, with a look of delight in her eyes.

She's pregnant again!

I hug her!

I cry!

I thank the Lord!

I...

IT'S NOT YOURS.

I pause and pull back. Something's nagging at my mind.

Tintifawin raises an eyebrow.

"Something wrong?"

TELL HER!

I shake my head to clear it.

"Nothing dear. Just really happy."

I brood and wind myself up, wondering about what's happened here. Who's the father? Why's she cheating? I thought she was happy!

Thankfully, my reverie is broken by a breathless messenger who comes to me with ill tidings.

I say "ill", but at this moment this is EXACTLY the release I need!

Varshab is dispatched in short order and fed to the piranhas.

I watch, delighted, as he is consumed.

Good lad.

This isn't right though - a good ruler shouldn't indulge in tyrannical whims to make himself feel better. A good ruler is a man chosen by God Himself! He should take time to appreciate the gifts that the Almighty has bestowed upon him, and channel some of that good feeling into the governance of his people.

It works! My daughter - a gift from God Himself - turns out to be an utter joy. We take long walks in the woods and talk about everything. She's a delight. She's precious. She's my rock of stability in this otherwise dark world. Nothing can get me down now! Nothing...

THIS...IS...SUENIK!!!!

Of course, it wouldn't be right for a Gardman-Aghbania to have a little happiness, would it?

I leave my daughter to my court physician and I storm back to court to see what particular brand of Suenikian nonsense I'll have to deal with.

It doesn't disappoint.

First, we have some rando show up looking for sanctuary...

Knowing my luck, she's probably wanted by the Sultan of the Seljuk Turks or something.

Then, she goes to have a conversation with my Spymaster about security.

Now, bear in mind that my spymaster is a man who takes his religion almost as seriously as my Bishop...

I then have the "you've just turned up here so can't really go spreading heresy" conversation...

See?

Nonsense.

I'm consoled by the fact that my new son has a really manly name.

He's not your son...

I shake my head, and...

He's not your son...

Tintifawin smiles up at me...

He's NOT your son...

She's frowning now, and I'm pretty sure I'm sweating...

HE'S NOT YOUR SON!!!!!

I don't think she expected me to scream and run out of the room flapping my arms as I went.

My mind - not to mention my heart - is racing. What's going on? What are these thoughts I'm thinking? Why am I acting this way?

I cast my mind back to all the injustices heaped upon me.

Attempted murders.

Infidelity.

My poor daughter suffering...

I narrow my eyes...

Ok, meat sack - let's have a word about who's REALLY holding the reigns from now on...

What next for Vahag? A life of slavery and torment? Is he Toros' father? What of the voice in his head? Find out in the next exciting episode of Suenik Reloaded!

iain_a_wilson · Nov 5, 2018

SUENIK RELOADED
CHAPTER 13 - UNLUCKY FOR SOME
(1122 - 1124)

Finally! Some measure of control! I've been biding my time, but it seems that Vahag has finally had the kind of existential breakdown I've been waiting for!

Time for some pay back....

And not for the reasons you think.

This isn't a pure "Oh let's create some hell on earth" moment.

Can you imagine being stuck at the back of Vahag's mind for all these years, unable to do anything other than manifest as some blip of his subconscious? Seriously, the man's a mass of dribbling contradictions. On one hand "kind" - a nice soul who provides for his people out of the goodness of his heart. On the other hand, "bit of a taste for murder".

Yup.

When I cast my mind back all those years and I recall having a choice of being punished by either being flung into the ninth circle for a few years, or being exiled onto earth for a span of decades into a "host of the Great Dragon's choosing" I can't believe that the latter option seemed like a cushy deal. My suspicions should have been raised when, seconds before I was discorporated one of the servitor imps giggled, "he's going to Suenik - he must have really pissed the boss off."

Remind me that I really need to apologise for that remark I made about "Well, if it was me facing the Almighty I'd have told him to shove it..."

So yeah - there's no real need to go about creating hell on earth as with it's dysfunctional families, ineffective rulers and terrible punishments (seriously, when I saw what Tintifawin was up to I made a mental note to have her soul grabbed and sent Downstairs with a note attached saying "Guys - learn.") Suenik pretty much IS hell on earth.

Instead, I just want to ruin what Vahag has built, as being stuck in his head is so bloody awful and I like being destructive in the most petty ways possible..

First up on the hit parade, we have this...

Arin dotes on Vahag.

Vahag thinks she's amazing.

Naturally, I tell her she can't go...

...and send Vahag's daughter instead!

Her tears last for days.

There's also this...

Now, following the wonderful actions of Duke Artavazd (great man - terribly misunderstood) and heresys springing up left, right and centre, Vahag has actually done a pretty good job (or "bad job" depending on which side of the celestial divide you're on...) stamping out anything that doesn't fit his own dogmatic, Miaphysitic view of Christianity and bringing some measure of peace to the land.

I, naturally, think that now is a good time for him to express his sympathetic views towards Islam.

Yes - this confuses and annoys a LOT of people....

Some of them even use this an excuse to express their anger in a more visceral fashion.

Thouands die.

I also use this time as an excuse to really fan the flames of religious bigotry by insisting that we form an army of fanatical fundamentalists to fight the heathen.

Mixed messages? Moi?

As this is going on, Vahag's daughter returns from China with great tales of what she found. Her eyes are alive as she describes the sights she saw and the people she met.

I should point out that, for all his faults, Vahag absolutely LOVES his daughters to bits.

They are his world.

Naturally, I tell her to pack her bags and she head off with a spring in her step.

He's never going to see her again.

Now... What do we have here?

Anyone remember Nane?

For those of you with short memories, Nane is Vahag's youngest daughter.

They do EVERYTHING together, and he even broke the bank getting his physician to try and heal her when she fell ill.

Despite my best intentions she survived.

What to do with her?

That's right! Marry her off to the son of some horse bothering deviant from the east. Pack your bags little girl! Plus, for an added bonus, Girgen's children are all going to be Gardman-Aghbanias! From what I've heard of those Cumans he doubtlessly deserves this fate!

Two birds with one stone!

Of course, Nane's a smart girl and I think she senses what's going on...

I inform her that there are other religions out there and, guess what? You're about to find out, first hand, all about the horse related ones from the far east!

Off you go! Giddyup!

Bye bye Nane - be sure to write!

No...

This is actually more fun than I thought it would be...

As I cast my mind around for more joy to be had, the wonderful basket of awfulness that is Suenik proves that it is the gift that keeps on giving...

Those piranhas look hungry...

No trace indeed. Tiny sharp teeth are very effective at that kind of thing.

You see? I don't even need to meddle much - humans, particularly humans from Suenik, are amazing at drumming up their own barrel of troubles!

While I'm contemplating giving the fish a second course, word reaches me that some of my new in-laws have turned up early (a few years early - Nane is just a child) for some pre-wedding celebrations.

I let them help themselves - those Christian icons will look lovely in their tents or around their horses' necks or whatever.

I'm then impressed to find out that, despite my fictions to the contrary, Tintifawin actually IS a disgusting, unfaithful whore.

I love when mortals show some initiative - means I don't have to do all the hard work!

I bloody knew it!

To celebrate this momentous occasion, I order my chancellor to drum up a spurious excuse for war. I find that nothing says "My wife is bearing a bastard child" than the slaughter of thousands....

Right, all it takes is one command from me, and a host of Suenik's finest (ha!) will be marching to their doom.

Hang on.

Speaking of marching...

Why are my legs going THAT way, when I want them to go THIS way?!?

This isn't right...

This ends NOW!

Hey! Back in your box, Vahag. This is my meat suit now!

No! You're NOT going to undo all my hard work. You've driven away the only people I love. You've killed thousands of my people. You've embroiled me in all sorts of scandal! You've tortured and murdered!

In fairness, you did a good job of doing pretty much all of that yourself on a daily basis prior to my involvement...

That's besides the point! There's someone I want you to meet, and that's why we're walking this way and not THAT way.

Who? Who do you want me to mee....ohhhh.....fuuuuuuuuuuu.....

What next for Vahag? Will the demon be exorcised? Will he regain control? Will anyone even notice if he doesn't? Find out in the next exciting episode of Suenik Reloaded!

iain_a_wilson · Nov 6, 2018

SUENIK RELOADED
CHAPTER 14 - WHAT'S THAT COMING OVER THE HILL?
(1124 - 1126)

That priest was good.

Really good.

I feel like a burden has been lifted from my shoulders, and a haze cleared from my vision.

Time to try and put things back into order - I dread to think what damage my passenger inflicted upon Suenik in my absence.

Rather annoyingly, when I question people about this, and about my erratic behaviour over the last couple of years, they kind of stare blankly at me and ask what about my behaviour was any different from normal.

I'm assured that everything is proceeding as it has always been proceeding...which is to say at breakneck speed, down a hill with a massive wall of rock at the bottom.

The wall is probably covered in spikes or on fire or something too.

As if to make a point, Fate gives a little nudge to aid my descent down said hill...

I summon my ever reliable marshal - surely my top military man has some thoughts about this most terrible of threats facing the realm.

He nods solemnly and tells me he has prepared a report on the matter.

We have a discussion about "priorities".

I ask him for more information about these Mongols that I've heard of, and he assures me that they're a trifling thing - something that can be completely disregarded. The wild beasts and highwaymen are a much more immediate threat. These Mongols? Pah - says Robin - they will never amount to ANYTHING.

He says he'll reassess his priorities.

While I'm awaiting this news reaches me that my wife has just performed the most...er...messy birth in the history of Suenik.

Poor little Smbat - he'll be a tough one to have survived that...er...deluge...

Speaking of family, where's my beloved Nane?

Oh my God.

My precious princess married off to some horse lord. Still, I daren't incur his wrath (he's probably friends with some Mongols) so I consent to the wedding and sadly bid her a fond farewell.

I lock myself in my tower and weep for what feels like weeks.

I ignore every plaintive knock at my door and simply concentrate on how unjust the world is.

The people were right - truly I AM accursed!

Even when the knockings get louder, I pay them no heed. What could be more important than the suffering of my most beloved daughter, who even now is the prize of some horse-bothering deviant?

Ah.

So my wife died?

And I wasn't there at her side?

Oh well - so sad - can't be helped.

I break out of my fugue - onwards and upwards as they say!

Not everyone shares my sunny demeanour however.

Remember Tintifawin's love of spreading heresy (and love of er...lovers)?

Turns out she had quite the following...

Sevag "I'm not really the father of royal bastards honest" decides to throw a little celebration in honour of the late duchess. When I tell him not to be so bloody silly, and that the treacherous old cow got what she deserved, he takes it badly, and calls in some of his heathen friends...

Oh bugger.

The flames of war consume Suenik once more! How will Duke Vahag fare? Is he truly accursed? Will the heretics and heathens have their way? What of the Mongols? Find out in the next exciting episode of Suenik Reloaded!

iain_a_wilson · Nov 7, 2018

SUENIK RELOADED
CHAPTER 15 - WHY DON'T I HAVE A COOL NICKNAME?
(1126 - 1128)

Once again, we are at war.

Armies clash.

People die.

Villages burn.

Yes, I've got a bunch of heretics revolting against me, but I also thought it would be a great idea to declare war on Georgia too in an unscrupulous land grab.

My physician assures me that this will be "cathartic" (whatever that means - pretty sure it's a Christian heresy) and will let me vent some of the frustration I've had building over the past few years.

On one hand, I'm thinking "This is going to cost a LOT to repair."

On the other hand, I'm thinking "I'm actually pretty good at this. Perhaps people will learn of my exploits and sing of my deeds?"

After all, I'm pretty sick of being known as "The Accursed". That's a shit nickname.

Given how well I've fought, something like "The Mighty" or "The Gathering Storm" would be better.

As I'm mulling this over my men come to me, chattering excitedly with news of a prisoner they've captured.

What?

How come HE gets a nickname like THAT and I end up being known as "The Accursed". I ask him where he got it from - after all, we're pretty far from the sea here...

In a booming, bass-voice that would shake the courage from most men's hearts and make women go weak at the knees, he points out that when you're a six and a half foot, four hundred pound wall of muscle and martial expertise people will generally call you whatever you want.

I make a mental note to have him fed to the piranhas and storm off and check with my marshal on whether news of my mighty exploits has worked its way into the universal zeitgeist yet.

He looks at me blankly, shakes his head but says that he has other news that may interest me.

Oh well; more chances to earn a badass nickname I guess.

Saying that, this "opportunity" will elongate the war, and that's unfortunate as there is a fine Suenikan tradition of scheming nobles er....scheming whilst their noble defender is off fighting for their freedom.

My vassals don't disappoint.

Here you have my idiot son and my idiot nephew and heir playing a game of "You scratch my back...."

There's nothing like familial loyalty to warm the cockles of one's heart.

It also appears an impending rush of treachery does wonders for one's prowess too, as I clearly inspire my men to great deeds of daring do.

Ha! Vahag the Mighty! Vahag the Vanquisher! Vahag the Defender?

Nope?

Still the Accursed I see...

During the victory parade in the capital, my marshal hands me a note as I am waving magnificently from the top of my Triumph Camel (TM) to the adoring crowds. He looks nervous, but smile munificently - nothing's going to spoil my mood today.

I keep waving and smiling.

Waving and smiling.

Waving and smiling.

I\m pretty sure I'm related to the Mongols now and they wouldn't hurt an in-law - would they?

Speaking of related - I decide to arrange a sumptuous wedding for one of my daughters to celebrate my glorious victories. And given just HOW victorious I was, this wedding should be a suitably special one!

Now, remember my previous daughter, Nane? Lovely Nane - always quick with a smile or a prayer for her friends in need. A gentle soul who sought to end conflict before it could start, and who was a balm upon her father's weary and torn heart?

Yeah - Hasmig isn't that type of girl.

She's er...more old school Suenik.

She returns dripping jewels and demands that everyone calls her "Your excellency".

I make a mental note to see if there are any more Khans out there looking for brood mares...

This whole business is proving pretty exhausting, so when my Steward comes to me with a plan, I seise on it with gusto!

A holiday!

This sounds excellent!

Clearly my excitement is contagious, as some of the local clergy come to me complaining about how hard they've been working recently and how they really, really need a break.

The more the merrier I say! There's no chance that this could go wrong!

I relax, determined that nothing is going to ruin my well deserved break.

I "Pah" at this. Some jumped up little merchant isn't going to get in the way of me having a good time. I tell my Steward to let him know to skeddadle.

That's odd.

Why's my Steward looking so nervous?

Aww come on!

You're kidding me!

How does HE - no more than a peddler of pots and pans - get a nickname like THAT????

Really? An ACTUAL werewolf.

Fine - give him some money. I'm going to need this break!

Will the holiday be relaxing? Will the priests have a good time? Will Vahag need to pack silver daggers? Find out in the next exciting episode of Suenik Reloaded!

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