The Last Kingdom of Hen Ogledd - A 769 Strathclyde AAR (Abandoned)

[Wysemage]

I like to imagine they simply leapt out from the small grass to surprise unsuspecting merchants.

Grass Bandits, a terrible scourge upon the steppes.

Very interesing event chain, never seen it before

I've only seen it happen once before myself a few years ago. Didn't go as well as this one did when my French King snuck into the forest in a disguise and got humiliated by them.

 

[DensleyBlair]

A really fun update. Loved the way you made the event chain your own, Wysemage. Looking forward now to seeing Caradog growing into the role of king.

 

[Wysemage]

Chapter VI – Before the Storm (815-820)

The journals of Sigismund Louping, a diplomat sent to Alt Clut by King Childeric of France, who later became Count of Thouars in 822.

June 815

The court is awash with gossip these last few days. First the king announced that although Din Eidyn is rightfully his and the truce with the now deceased Pictish king can be considered void, there will be no war until the northmen invading Northumbria are ousted. And now a few days later, an outright scandal has occured as a pretty young servant has given birth to a son which she claims was fathered by Grygor.

The lad tried to deny the claim, but the frequency of his visits to this maid's... presence was already known. Thus his father forced him to adopt the child as penance. Young Grygor did not seem particularly happy about it when last we spoke.

​

November 817

A new chieftain was raised by the king today, and it was one that many found fault with. The steward of the council, Brochfael Ternyllwg, arrived from his tax collecting mission with a grand smile upon his face. He announced that he had convinced some of the richer land holding families to donate a tithe to the kingdom, delivering a mighty supply of gold. The council convened a short while later and upon exiting, Brochfael was named as Chieftain of Guendoleu.

Such an individual did not gain a title without great controversy though. Brochfael is heavily rumoured to partake in sinful company on frequent occasions, and the rashes that he hides beneath his sleeves only add fuel to that fire. Talk amongst the servants is that a significant part of the donation was from Brochfael's own pocket. Nevertheless, the council has praised Caradog's just rewarding of a councillor.

August 818

The king has frequently embarked upon hunting expeditions as of late, searching for this "white stag" with this former brigand who now serves as his master of spies. He usually returns with deer, rabbit, boar... but nothing of the likes of this supposed creature. Most recently however, he returned with a commoner girl in tow. This "Eiliwedd", who according to Master Robin was found living in the wilds to the east hidden away in some remote cottage, possesses both keen intelligence and undeniable beauty.

At first it was assumed that the king had taken her as a concubine, as these tribal lords are still wont to do. But the king promptly announced her betrothal to his son, much to Grygor's own surprise. Any protest was quickly silenced when his father also announced that Grygor is to be his heir, as voted by the bishops and Chief Brochfael.

September 819

The war for Din Eidyn has begun in earnest. King Caradog, who men have begun to call "the Affable", grew weary of waiting for the war in Northumbria to end and instead declared his right to conquer all the old territory of Gododdin to the Pict's child queen Durilia.

I had not expected to join the king on his campaign, but Caradog spoke to me of his desire to "show the mainlanders how a true Briton fights", and so I accompanied him as an observer.

I must say that Caradog had picked a crucial time to attack. Run ragged by the now nine year long invasion, the Picts numbered a mere eight hundred. Paltry indeed when compared to the five thousand strong army that Caradog controlled. Truly it was a great surprise when, as the Britons began to besiege Din Eidyn, a Pictish army of three thousand suddenly crossed the border at Guendoleu and took the capital.

It was then that I learned that Caradog had anticipated the bolstered Picts, marching his army south to confront them. I now know how Britons fight. With enough arrows to darken the sky. The sight of two thousand in flight is rather breathtaking in a way.

​

December 819

The chill of winter this far north does little good for one used to Bordeaux summers such as myself. I would have not believed that the Britons would be much more reslilient to such weather, but where I am chilled to the bone, the cold has set a fire within some. Not a good fire however, because as Din Eidyn surrendered, some of the soldiers marching into the town became incensed. Most were able to reign themselves in, but a few took it upon themselves to pillage in a brutal fashion. Although the damage was limited to a small area, several homes had been burned and the inhabitants mercilessly cut down if they were men or ravaged with the same lack of mercy be they women. Caradog became enraged upon learning this, taking it upon himself to execute these soldiers as an example to the rest.

​

November 820

To think that I have seen this war end before year's end! King Caradog proved his martial might again and again over the course of this campaign. First was a victorious ambush at Malluoc Sant which prevented an attempt by the Picts to flank the Brythonic lines in June, and then the resounding victory at Abercarn this last week.

Of the two, Abercarn was the true spectacle, a masterful pincer manouver by the king seperated the Pictish flanks from the centre column. As the Picts attempted to fight their way out, Prince Grygor did battle against one of the commanders of the army, a local bishop by the name of Aethon. While the bishop was defeated and captured by the victorious prince, his father annihilated the remaining soldiers, forcing not only a retreat, but a surrender by the child Queen's regent. Din Eidyn belonged to Caradog and he became incredibly merry, proclaiming the restoration of Gododdin.

The King's good mood only grew as we returned to Alt Clut, learning that his wife had become pregnant after a visit some months prior. A great celebration was held, and all was good. The great thunderstorm to the east that night was... unsettling regardless.

 

[DensleyBlair]

An interesting note on which to end with the reformation of Germanic paganism. I wonder whether this schism among the Germanic Saxons and the Anglo Saxons will have any impact upon politics in Britain.

 

[stnylan]

A great campaign. The powers of southern Brittania ought to take note

 

[Wysemage]

Chapter VII - A War in the Family (820-828)

Dago Hessing - Grand-Chief of Saxony, First Fylkir of Asatru, Writer of The Sagas, Wodenborn, "Fox-Cunning".​

Dago was a man who had just tolled the first warning bell for Western Christianity, a man who merged the Saxon and Norse faiths under one banner as Asatru, meaning "faith in the Æsir" in Old Norse. Sagas written centuries later would paint him as a great conquerer, humbling the myriad Norse tribes and writing the truth of Odin. Of course most of them neglect to mention that the great conquerer was more his grandfather Hesso 'the Cruel' than Dago himself.

The new order of Godis spreading out from Saxony gave the ailing Ragnarr 'Lothbrok' a new surge of strength, as the king sailed once again to Northumbria in the ninth year of what would later be described as the 'Lothbrok Invasions'.

The spread of the Asatru reformation was greatly opposed by traditionalists, but by the mid-9th Century, the old ways had given way to the new faith.​

The constant invasions proved to be a large problem for Caradog, King of Alt Clut and Gododdin. He had a desire to press the claim of Robin de Inglewood upon the Cumbrian Valley, but going to war with a nation defending itself against heathens could lead to serious ramifications. An excommunication was hardly desireable after all.

Instead he turned back to his lifelong love, hunting, meeting yet another man who sought the White Stag. Despite having found nothing of such a beast in the years he has been hunting it, Caradog was not disheartened. He declared a grand festival to celebrate the Midyear of 821, inviting chieftain, merchant and commoner alike to attend.

The Festival of the Cluith was reportedly one of the last ones of it's kind held in Alt Clut, at the very least it is the most well recorded one known to have been held beyond the 800s. Arthws of Din Baer writes:

"And acknowledging that the Festival is a time of gifting, the good man Robin did bequeath a young hound to the King, to be raised as a mighty companion in their hunts. The King took delight at the gift and declared Robin to be a everlasting friend of the Line of the Rock.

That evening as the sun did set, a contest of arms was held. Many men competed to prove their physical might, but none could stand up to Prince Grygor, who suffered no defeat. Upon his son's victory, Caradog did laugh and proclaim his firstborn as 'the Undefeated'."

Many legends and folk tales speak of how Prince Grygor never lost a single battle during his lifetime, becoming a symbol of victory to the Old North.
​

Six years pass by in relative peace. Northumbria finally fends off the invading Norse, Dago 'Fox-Cunning' suffered an untimely death from an infected wound in 825 with Caradog's brother Tewdrig suffering a similar although rather unclear fate in the same year.

​

Dago's death did little to stymie the ambition of the Norse, however with the Fylkir now a yearling child, the Hessing line looked to be faltering. Christianity breathed a sigh of relief regardless, caring little for news of the 826 Shi'a Uprising in Iberia.

​

Of Alt Clut during this period, little of note is spoken of until 827. Caradog's sadistic streak eased into a more gentle hand as he betrothed his daughter Siwan to Prince Theoderic, heir to the Merovingian throne.

It is also known that while Grygor and Eiliwedd had their first child, a daughter named Sibyl, Grygor's penchant for women had not ebbed. The first evidence of his second bastard Sulien came to be in this time.

Despite Caradog's more softer rule, he had a promise to keep. And so in the month of May, in the year 827, what would come to be known as the 'War in the Family' began.

At first it was a seemingly simple war. The Northumbrians had seen an entire generation crippled by the decade long Norse invasion and they had yet to recover. And now Caradog mustered five thousand, his own and the Irish forces of Connachta, to uphold his promise to Robin. Wulfthryth's armies were few, so she called upon her newest ally for aid. It certainly was a shock to Caradog when his wife declared her support for her daughter-by-law over her own husband.

It had been in 821 when Non had married her second son with Caradog, Prince Owain to Queen Wulfthryth. And now, six years later, Non 'the Butcher' marched northwards. Seven hundred Powysian men engaged with five thousand Briton and Irish at Nofant. Only four hundred Powysians escaped.

Regrouping with the scant three hundred Northumbrians, the defending armies once again bypassed Caradog's allies and attacked Guendoleu in April of 828. Despite Non and Prince Owain taking the field themselves, Caradog too led from the frontlines.

Why Wulfthryth and Non chose to assault Guendoleu over liberating the occupied counties is a subject of debate. It is possible that with their scant numbers, a raid on Caradog's supply lines was a better prospect.​

The Battle of Guendoleu has gone down in history as an absolute slaughter. Seven hundred Welsh and Anglians, utterly destroyed by a force which outnumbered them ten to one. Queen Non was evacuated, her personal guards buying time for her to escape to unoccupied Lancaster.

Owain suffered a different fate. As the tale goes: Owain and his father encountered one another on the battlefield. Caradog demanded that Owain surrender into custody but the prince refused, choosing to defend the honour of his wife and infant daughter.

Caradog was hesitant to duel his son, but Grygor did not have that same reluctance. The two brothers were hardly friends, and in spite of Caradog's shouts of protest, the two did clash. Much has been praised of Grygor's martial might, he has not gone down in history as "Grygor the Undefeated" based on bluster alone.

Owain was decidedly much less capable as a warrior than his elder brother, he had spent more time learning under diplomats than marshals as a child. He fought sloppily, but gave enough of a fight that Grygor's self-restraint began to slip. He was no longer fighting to subdue his brother, he was fighting to win.

As his ax swung past Owain's faltering defence, biting deep into his brother's gut, Grygor began to regret what his nickname had come to mean.

 

[Lord Decobius]

The cycle of brothers killing brothers continues. I wonder what curse was laid on the Alt Cluts? Cool narrative, I'm looking forward to the rule of Grygor the Undefeated! But Caradog's not done yet, I'd wager.

As an aside, could we have a look at the Alt Clut family tree? Grygor's brother kind of came out of nowhere in this update, and it made me wonder what other siblings and relatives exist. If you're too far past this point in the game, no worries. Thanks!

 

[Wysemage]

The cycle of brothers killing brothers continues. I wonder what curse was laid on the Alt Cluts? Cool narrative, I'm looking forward to the rule of Grygor the Undefeated! But Caradog's not done yet, I'd wager.

As an aside, could we have a look at the Alt Clut family tree? Grygor's brother kind of came out of nowhere in this update, and it made me wonder what other siblings and relatives exist. If you're too far past this point in the game, no worries. Thanks!

Quite a ways past Caradog in game I'm afraid, I do have a save from the beginning of Grygor's reign though so I might do something for that.

Admittedly the lack of mention of Grygor's brother was down to a. Non for some reason having every child after Grygor in Powys so I had little warning of their status if something happened (Non betrothing Owain to Wulfthryth for instance), and b. My tendency to only mention a character if they play a part in future events. (Like Robin de Inglewood for instance) I'll find a way to work the relations into the story if possible.

Speaking of Caraog though, I'm partway through writing his next update. It's a fairly longer one but I should probably manage to have it out by the start of next week.

 

[Tyler96]

Is Grygor tainted as a kinslayer now? Not a welcome trait, that.

 

[Wysemage]

Is Grygor tainted as a kinslayer now? Not a welcome trait, that.

He has the Tribal Kinslayer trait which gives him a much lighter dynasty opinion penalty and an attraction bonus.

 

[mike the knight]

Fields are soaked with blood , lets hope this does nto brign ill fate upon us

 

[DensleyBlair]

A truly messy war, if that’s not tautology. It’s hard to imagine the psychological consequences ever abating, even if the geopolitics proves more fickle.

 

[darkhaze9]

A bit late to the last few updates, but highly enjoyed them nonetheless. Looking forward to what comes next!

 

[Tryvenyal]

What a war! Was it not your own son you had slayed there? Ah. Brother against Brother. Your sons!

 

[streaker77]

Wow, that was unexpected...it appears that Caradog will find victory in his war, but I doubt he will find the results worth his sons death.

 

[stnylan]

Well, they made a valiant last stand against the horde, if nothing else.

 

[Wysemage]

What a war! Was it not your own son you had slayed there? Ah. Brother against Brother. Your sons!

Wow, that was unexpected...it appears that Caradog will find victory in his war, but I doubt he will find the results worth his sons death.

A bonafide Cain and Abel indeed, of course the fact that its the second generation of brother killing doesn't really improve matters.

 

[Wysemage]

Chapter VIII - End of the Hunt (828-834)


Fragments of a journal kept by Caradog I during the last years of his life. These fragments were uncovered during an excavation of the old Royal Archives.

June 828:

In all my life, I have never felt the need to record my thoughts. That has changed as of late, and I must ensure that even a mere sheet of vellum holds proof of my failings.

The war for Cumbria is won, Robin has his county and I have lost a son in return. I do not blame my friend for Owain's death however.

Nor do I blame Grygor for his part. No, the blame lies solely at my feet and mine alone. Ever since I learned of my elder brother's plot against me as a child, I have found it nigh inconceivable that brothers could be anything but foes. That mindset led to Tewdrigs death, and now it has led to the next generation of kinslaying.

It has also utterly destroyed any hope that I may spend the last years of my life with a happy family. I have heard nothing from Non but... I am sure she must despise me now. As for Grygor himself... He is troubled, guilt-ridden. A momentary lapse of restraint has forever stained his name. He himself came to me after the treaties were signed, begging for forgiveness which I readily gave him.

And now he is gone, departed to Powys to visit his mother, perhaps she will forgive him as I have? Before he left, he mentioned that he intends to name his second child with Eiliwedd, should that child be a boy, after Owain. A mark of remembrance if nothing else.

January 829:

The winter has been a hard one, and much of that has nothing to do with the weather.

A letter arrived in November, news from Grygor, and dreadful news it was. Non is dying, her strength sapped by some vile disease that her greek physician named karkinos. And to make things worse, she refuses to let me see her if I go to Powys.

It was in my growing unease that I received another letter, this time an invitation from Robin to stay in his domain for a few days.

Those days at least, were a great comfort to me. The feasts, the great games of strategy, the very presence of Robin himself, all of this proved to me that he is a true friend.

When I first met him, when this ambitious brigand first entered my service and spoke to me of his descendency from Urien of Rheged, all I saw was an opportunity to take Cumbria. But in the fifteen years since, he has become my hunting partner, my trusted master of spies, and dare I say it, he has become more a brother to me than either of mine ever were.

And thus I return home, the burden of rulership that has been upon my shoulders for two decades greatly lessened.

August 829:

Robin is dead...

Brochfael, my steward, has lost his mind to the pox and murdered him.

The traitor now sits, rotting in a dungeon cell.

I should feel angry, vengeful. Yet I merely feel... empty.

December 829:

I spent weeks. Weeks searching for this confounded stag! And what do I find?

Nothing. No tracks, no markings, nothing. Damn this venture of mine. Damn me for coming out alone. Damn me for being a fool.

December 830:

Times like these remind me that alliances are fickle indeed. First was Sinach of Connachta, married to my sister Annest, who called for aid against some breton adventurer who was attempting to take his crown.

Of course no sooner had we arrived at the border, Sinach met us and informed me that Annest was dead, having never awoken one morning a week prior. I was obligated to aid him regardless of course, but by this point I no longer cared for the fate of some petty Irish king, so I turned my army around and marched back home.

Next came Hernam, King of Cornwall, yet another Breton... The fool decided to complain to me of some petty insult that was given by some minor noble of ours, as if I myself had given it! I promptly sent a reply telling him exactly where he could place his complaint.

Now the King of the Franks, husband to my daughter Siwan, has written with a desperate plea. Theoderic seems to be besieged on all sides. Fine. I will travel to the mainland, I will fight these wars that mean nothing to me. Perhaps, if I am lucky, I will meet a glorious end.

April 831:

She's gone...

December 831:

These last few months have been naught but fighting Bretons. Rebels in Abbeville and Locmine, quashing the last independant count at Carhaix, none has posed any real challenge.

Indeed it seems as if all I have accomplished in this warfare is the ending of countless young lives over my own aged being. That and bankrupting my own kingdom...

I believe I have done enough in my year here. The Burgundians are strong but the defeat of the rebellions has freed Theoderics armies to deal with it. It is time to go home, and time for me to confront Brochfael. I must know why at least.

January 832:

Damn my foolishness. Brochfael is dead at my own hand.

I ventured to the traitor's cell this morning, wanted to know why he had Robin murdered. Yet it appeares that the pox had utterly claimed his mind, as what I found was a gibbering lunatic, cackling madly as he spoke to things only a madman could perceive.

I entered his cell, asking him, DEMANDING him to tell me why he killed my best friend. I got no reply that made sense. I grew angry, filled with wrath. It was as if the rage I should have felt as I stood over Robin's tomb came roaring into life. My mind went blank and next I knew, the guard who accompanied me was pulling me back from Brochfael's ruined body.

And now I am here, wondering what to say to his son. Elisedd is almost a man grown, no matter what I tell him, he will likely seek vengeance.

I will deal with that when it inevitably comes.

November 833:

I am at a loss, having returned from what I know now was my final hunt.

It seemed to be a simple enough one, another luckless attempt at finding the white stag. Another two weeks I spent out there, at the very least claiming many kills with my companions.

But it was one morning, with the threat of frost on the ground that I alone came across a great chasm. Too wide to jump, too broad to walk around without much effort. I turned back to return but a noise alerted me. As I looked back, it was there...

Twenty years of my life I have spent looking for that... beautiful creature. It was on the other side of the chasm, so CLOSE! We stared at each other in silence for what felt an eternity, I reached back for an arrow-

And then I stopped, I just... let it flee. Perhaps it due to the chasm, maybe it was the ache in my aged bones, perhaps I thought it to be a mere trick of the eye. But in my heart, I knew what the stag really meant to me.

It was a dream. A dream of a life without the burden of the crown, a dream where I could be free to pursue my heart's content, family and friends at my side.

But my friends are all dead or dying, even my loyal hound Gwydion. My family is fractured, I can only hope that they will uphold the finer parts of my legacy and not... the worst parts.

My hunt is over. And soon, so shall my time on this Earth.

September 834:

Brochfael's son, Elisedd has agreed to my offer. A chance to avenge his father's death.

I know what I must do, I will fight hard, but leave enough openings for the boy to exploit. One way or another, this charade will finally come to an end. God forgive me.

 

[Wysemage]

Appendix a. The House of Alt Clut

As we move from the Affable Caradog to the Undefeated Grygor, it's time to take a look at the new king's immediate family.​

The new King of Alt Clut is surprisingly humble given his epithet, having ruled in Powys for the last two years since his mother's death. Perhaps a man who bests his foes and conquers women alike does not have much need to boast. Of note is that Powys' government is marginally different to that of The Rock, leaning more towards the proto-feudalistic ways blossoming out of Europe.​

His wife, Eiliwedd the Wildling, rides north with him. Her belly grows fat from her soon to be fourth child with Grygor's. Of course, this will be the King's sixth child.

His firstborn bastard, Owain (commonly referred to as Big Owain), is a man grown. His mother remains unknown to history, the maid having passed not long after birthing him. While he is a smart lad, Grygor did not treat him with much attention, leaving him one who often shies away from conflict.

Eight years seperate Big Owain from his only sister, eldest of Eiliwedd. With four brothers, Sibyl is often isolated, yet she makes do.

The second of Grygor's illegitimate children, Sulien is unlikely to inherit at all. Indeed, he as been given a more scholarly upbringing, which he is already taking to even at the age of seven.

Little Owain, the current tanist of the kingdom and Grygor's first legitimate son. Betrothed to the daughter of his grandfather's best friend, named for his slain uncle, the prince owes much to the choices of his forebears.

And finally Caradog, the youngest of the five for now. Little can be said of this child, but he is already known as a rather cute boy.

Beyond them are Grygor's sisters, Queen Siwan of France, Chieftess Marared of Ui Maine. Two more brothers also, Emrys and young Brochfael. What part they will play in the future of the Hen Ogledd cannot yet be said.

For as Grygor rides north to take his birthright, rumblings in the shadows begin.​

 

[DensleyBlair]

An affecting portrait of an old king paying for his past decisions. Cannot help but agree that it was time for Caradog to find peace.

Having not played a new version of the game– what are grygor’s traits exactly? There are a couple I don’t recognise.