It had to happen. It was a Saturday night. My daughter was having a sleepover with her friend. One son was also doing the same with his friend. So it was just my 11-year old and I.
"Hey, Malcolm! You want to try some Divine Right?"
"Sure, Daddy"
So we cracked out Divine Right with the original copy dating to high school. (I have a mint copy I bought on eBay back in the 90s.) We randomly drew kingdoms. Malcolm got the Elves. I drew the Trolls. Responding to Elvish insults about Stoneface, I immediately marched my Troll army (all two units) on the Elvish capital of Ider Bolise. Malcolm spread out his forces across his kingdom. He didn't understand how combat worked. He'd soon find out.
Malcolm promptly found allies with Hothior and Mivior. Then the Black Knight entered as a mercenary. He was liking this game. Naturally, I sought the alliance of the most powerful kingdom, Muetar. The Muetar Emperor rallied to the Trollish banner and laid siege to the Stubstaff Keep. The Black Knight who had led his Stubstaff Guard to the battle in the north, promptly returned and fought his way into his Keep. In the battle, the Black Knight was slain. However, his troops were able to return his body to his keep. There he was revived with the holy Stubstaff.
My ambassador went to work to dismantle Malcolm's mighty alliance. First, Hothior betrayed its allegiance. This treachery prompted great fury and wrath from Malcolm, whose heart burned with the desire for revenge against the perfidious Hothorians. The Mivorian King was the next domino to fall. Resolving to put an end to this diplomatic debacle, the Elven ambassador challenged his Troll counterpart to a duel, which he promptly lost and, even worse, was killed.
Burnished with new-found martial status, my Troll ambassador, brandishing the Elvish ambassador’s head as a souvenir, headed north to the Wild Reaches. Treating with the local barbarians, he impressed. To the pleasure of his Majesty, King Skoagg, an 11-unit army of Wildmen was recruited. Fueled by ancient hatreds of the Elves and promises of righteous plunder, the Wildman barbarian hordes invaded the realm of the now trembling Elves.
Malcolm's Elves had been skirmishing with my Troll army. Malcolm had quickly realized the need to stack his units. With the threat from the barbarians, he prudently retreated behind the walls of Ilder Bolise.
Meanwhile, in the south, Muetarian forces promptly besieged the Stubstaff Keep. It was quickly overwhelmed and desecrated. I smirked immaturely as I informed Malcolm my triumphant Muetarian troops urinated throughout the fallen keep. The holy Stubstaff was destroyed. The Black Knight fled to the Banished Lands. He hoped to rendezvous with a mercenary fleet to escape. It was not to be. Muetarian troops hunted him down. The Black Knight was slain in his final battle within sight of the mercenary fleet near the estuary of the Deep. With the Black Knight's head mounted on their banner, the Muetarian Emperor's mighty army began the trek north to Ider Bolise.
With the Eleven army trapped in their castle by my barbican hordes, I gloated at the Elven kingdom's inevitable doom. They would rue the day they insulted the architectural splendor that is Stoneface. I warned Malcom with juvenile glee that if he was alarmed and affronted by the depravities of my victorious Muetarian troops at the Stubstaff Keep, just wait until my Wildmen barbarians razed Ider Bolise. Their personal hygiene is even worse.
Consumed with abject fear and dreadful visions of my victorious defacating barbarian hordes, Malcolm announced he was tired and it was past his bedtime. The game was called. Daddy was victorious. Although defeated, Malcolm looked forward to his next game of Divine Right.