Welcome to Chapter Two of our regular Throne Room update. In this chapter we will continue to tell the story of some of our current games. Then in subsequent editions we will provide updates.
We'll also highlight games which are looking for new or replacement players and in our From the Vaults section we'll continue to bring you stories from past classic games.
We hope you enjoy our Tales from the Throne Room!
Current Hotseat Games:
The Levantine Struggle
This is a five-player hotseat in the Kingdoms: Crusades campaign. The game has reached the 14th turn and so far the notable event has been that the city of Jerusalem has fallen to the Egyptians. How will the Crusader states respond to this challenge? Further north the Turks have abandoned their Anatolian holdings to the Byzantines and re-located further east around Baghdad. Will they rebuild and attempt to push west once more?
Unification of the Isles
This is a five-player hotseat in the Kingdoms: Britannia campaign. The game has reached the 17th turn and a bitter war is raging between England versus Wales and Ireland. In the north, the Norsemen have defeated the Scots and have laid claim to their territory.
This is an eight-player hotseat in the Kingdoms: Teutonic campaign which has been slightly modified to make Norway playable by a human player. The game has only reached turn 6 but already Novogord has been eliminated by the Danes while the Teutonic Order wages war on the pagans of Lithuania.
Currently Recruiting:
If reading about those games gave you the appetite to join a hotseat game, here are the games which are currently looking for new or replacement players:
- Clash of Gods; a new game which will be a deathmatch between two teams, one of Catholic and one of Islamic factions, this game is looking for a number of new players. Post in the game thread or pm Myth if you are interested.
He was one of a multitude surging through the narrow lanes of the bazaar in Baghdad.
There were men there of every country in the world, their stalls, carts and trays overflowing with the bounty of the earth.
Exotic dyes, spices and reams of cloth of every hue and texture dazzled the eye. Food sizzled on grills and bubbled in pots, and an array of odours assailed his senses. Music came flooding from every direction, strange and haunting melodies that spoke of foreign lands long distant.
He left the bazaar and passed through the city.
In a square shaded by date palms he saw a throng of holy men engaged in lively debate. There were men of Muhammad and men of Christ, men of the Hindu gods and many more he could not recognise. They smiled and embraced each other as they spoke, and seemed to come to an agreement.
Past the square were the city gates, through which came a procession of carts loaded with freshly harvested produce. The line of carts stretched down the road to the horizon, and flanking the road on either side were fields of green crops and dark, earthy loam which seemed loaded with the promise of an endless fertility.
As he passed through the streets of the city it seemed to him that the people lived their lives in peace and harmony, unthreatened by war, hunger or religious oppression. He saw no signs of sickness or poverty, and no man he saw carried weapons.
Looming over the city was the Royal Palace. Now he was at the foot of the great stone staircase which led to the giant golden doors. Looking up he saw in front of the doors, seated on a dazzling throne the figure of an old man, the Caliph. Surrounding the Caliph were children of the city, seated at his feet and listening intently to his words.
He started to climb the stairs but as he placed his foot on the next step he slipped and, teetering for a moment trying desperately to regain his balance, he met the Caliph’s eyes and fell.
The Caliph awoke in his chamber. As he sat up on his hard cot the room seemed to be very dark and cold.
An unfamiliar rattling sound came from the darkest corner of the room. He heard the chattering of voices in an alien tongue, and harsh laughter rang out.
As his eyes adjusted he saw that there was a gaming table set up in the room, around which clustered a group of djinns. They were casting dice and gambling with pieces of gold.
He rose from the cot and approached the table as quietly as he could, shocked and overcome by the fearsome sight.
As he drew closer he saw that the surface of the table was a map, with the Caliphate and all the surrounding nations marked on it. The djinns were moving small squirming figures around on the map and seemed to be forcing them to fight.
In the part of the table which showed Azerbaijan a tiny knight on a white charger struggled with a giant eagle which tried to bear him aloft.
The djinns cackled and clucked at the sight.
The Caliph was no longer fearful but overcome with rage – he overturned the table in his anger, scattering the dice, gold and playing pieces on the floor, shouting and waving his arms at the djinns to shoo them from his chamber.
With a start they threw open the shuttered window and, grabbing his arms, bore him aloft from the tower and out over the city streets.
Below him Baghdad was aflame - the people rioted in the streets burning effigies, spurred on by the hateful diatribes of Imans. Sick and starving children roamed in packs stealing from beggars and tormenting mothers who wailed after their dying infants.
A host was at the gates, pounding on them with a great battering ram with the head of an ox. Behind them and to the horizon the land was scorched and barren under skies filled with black smoke.
The djinns bore him higher into the air as he struggled and wailed for release. Now he was miles above the earth and looking out into the east across the great desert.
On the horizon he saw gathering dark clouds and flashes of lightning.
Across the desert, from the east towards the city, great twisting sandstorms came, fifteen in number, tearing the palms from the earth and destroying all trace of life in their deadly path.
The Caliph awoke in his chamber which was bathed in the warm morning sunshine.
Interesting, he thought.
He meditated on the dream as he performed his morning prayers on the reed mat by the window. Afterwards he sat in a chair, lost in thought until a knock on the door interrupted his reverie.
The Vizier entered, with a pair of manservants, one bearing a tray of dates and unleavened bread, the other with the Caliph’s robes.
‘My lord Caliph, the Court is assembling. It is said that the Georgians and the Seljuks will today announce the peace that you have brokered between them.’
‘That is excellent news old friend. I will attend Court presently to hear the announcement. Have the palace ghulams prepare a feast for our guests.’
