From Scythe to Scepter: A Franco-Norman AAR

[Darumaka]

"From Scythe to Scepter: The Ascension of a Peasant Dynasty"
A history of House "de Coutances"

Coutances, West Francia, late Autumn of 865 AD
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Amidst the verdant hills of the Cotentin Peninsula, the tranquil village of Coutances found itself abruptly disturbed. The air thickened with tension as rumours spread like wildfire: a fleet of longships, their dragon-headed prows slicing through the water, approached the shores. These were no ordinary vessels for they bore the mark of Northmen—the Vikings were coming.

Long before any northern axe could, terror itself ravaged the town. The soil of the town was nourished with the wealth of its inhabitants as they rushed to bury it in a thousand holes beneath their homes. Fear-stricken villagers began to flee in all directions, leaving their sick, injured and feeble behind. Those who remained began to raise a makeshift wall despite its futility, for the people of Coutances knew they could not stand against the Normans* on their own, yet the waiting could consume a man from the inside, so they continued their work.

As dawn painted the horizon crimson, the Vikings descended upon the town. Their arrival was heralded by the clash of steel against their shields, their guttural war cries echoed through the thatched roofs and narrow alleys of Coutances, striking terror into the hearts of the townsfolk. These Norsemen were no ordinary raiders; they were a brutal band led by the legendary chieftain Haesteinn and his second-in-command Hjalmar "the Red". Their eyes glinted with greed, and their axes thirsted for blood. Arnault, the village leader, rallied the peasants—a motley crew of farmers, blacksmiths, and fishermen. They stood shoulder to shoulder, their pitchforks and scythes no match for the Vikings’ deadly weapons. Many fled their station at the first sight of raiders and scrambled to barricade their homes, but soon the Northmen began descending upon them like a tempest. Axes swung, flames danced, and the streets grew muddy as blood began to spill upon the once-peaceful hamlet of Coutances.

Haesteinn himself led the assault. Towering and scarred, he wore a helm adorned with raven feathers—a symbol of Odin’s favor. His men followed, their shields forming an impenetrable wall. They battered the gates, splintering wood and iron alike. The defenders fought valiantly, but their resistance was for naught. Within hours, Coutances fell. The Vikings poured into the streets, torches in hand. Houses burned, and the sound of steel made way for the terrified screams of prey. Haesteinn's berserkers rampaged, their axes cleaving through flesh and bone. The town’s once-bustling market square became a gruesome battleground.

The Siege of Coutances, late Autumn of 865 AD​

In the shadow of the church at the center of the town, Hjalmar "the Red" confronted the village leader. Arnault, clad in leather and desperation, raised a sword he'd looted off a fallen invader. Their duel raged for what seemed an eternity. Arnault fought with the courage of a man defending all he loved, but his age had made him weary, and his much younger foe with the red beard began to play circles around him . “For Coutances!” he shouted, lunging at Hjalmar, but the second-in-command sidestepped effortlessly, burying his axe in Arnault's side. The town leader crumpled, blood pooling where he laid. The fighting stopped for a second, as all men went deaf upon hearing the wailing shriek of his wife Regine, who rushed to her fallen husband. With blade in hand, the grief-struck widow lunged at the savage Hjalmar, but she too met her end. Vikings knew no mercy.

Hjalmar "the Red" entered the church and his gaze fell upon the lone man, a son of Arnault by the name of Baudouin, who stood defiantly before the altar bearing the tools of a farmer. "You cannot desecrate this holy place," he declared. The Norseman laughed, wiping blood from his blade. "Holiness means naught to me, boy. Gold and glory—those are my gods.” He swung his axe, but Baudouin stepped aside, his faith unyielding. "May your gods forgive you then," he whispered. For a second Hjalmar saw determination in the boy's eyes, and he prepared to put an end to his folly, but in the end the boy's valour faltered and he ran, dropping the scythe in his haste. Hjalmar laughed and ordered his men to let him go, for the church was filled to the brim with gold, silver, and sacred relics to loot.

The Viking lord Haesteinn stood atop a hill, surveying the devastation. A myriad homes laid collapsed around him, the marketplace ruined beyond belief, the church set ablaze. Cattle was seized or slaughtered where it stood. One was hard pressed to take two steps without stepping on dead man. The town’s women wept, their children huddled in fear. Hundreds stood in chains ready to be taken to the slave markets of Dublin. His laughter echoed—a chilling sound that sent shivers down the survivors’ spines.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an eerie glow on the devastation inflicted upon the town, the Northmen departed laden with spoils. The Vikings had come and gone, leaving behind a scar etched into the land—a haunting reminder of brutality and upheaval. The survivors grappled with loss, their futures uncertain. Coutances laid in ruins, its people broken. Many vowed vengeance, while others kneeled in prayer asking for salvation. Others yet were filled with determination, with eyes fixed on the future, already planning how their town could be rebuilt, stronger than before. Among this last group was Henri, the eldest son of the late Arnault, who filled with unyielding resolve, gathered the remnants of the village. The nights grew colder with every passing day, and so he sent men to gather wood for a makeshift shelter, as the heat from their burning homes could not sustain them, for winter had come.

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*You may think of Normans as the people come about from the mixing of Scandinavians and French people, as depicted in Crusader Kings, however Norman essentially meant Northman in French, and was used to describe Scandinavians even before their settling in France so I will be using it interchangeably with similar words like Northman, Norseman, Viking, Norse, and the like to add a bit of variety to the text.

 

[Darumaka]

Hello everyone! I've tried my hand at AAR writing in the past, but certain commitments did not allow me to finish what I started. By the time I could get back on track, a long time had passed and I found myself confused at the notes and pictures I took. My hope is to be able to finish this run, if not to the end date at least at a reasonable point in the story, one that seems fitting to end on.

This AAR will center on the "de Coutances" family, those from the loins of the dead Arnault and his relatives, the first of which will be Henri, his eldest son. Neither Henri nor Arnault are landed or even existing characters at game start, so this will be a custom character start.

I often find myself annoyed at how useless AI-controlled Haesteinn usually is, and thus I decided to play as him a little bit to get him started on the right path. By doing so, his usual spot on Northern France was freed to do with as I pleased. As I am running the "More Bookmarks+" this means Haesteinn begins on the Channel Islands and the Cotentin Peninsula on what is today Normandy, as opposed to his usual vanilla spot on Montaigu to the South of Brittany. Historically, this is where Scandinavian settlement first began in France, as it laid between the borders of West Francia and Brittany, kind of a lawless land exposed to raiders from the sea, dotted with forests, small hills, and marshes, perfect for Vikings to make a home-away-from-home. Coutances is located there, and in our timeline it was destroyed by Vikings in the year 866 AD, so it fits my story very much.

I will be using a mix of in-game pictures and art found on Google images. In cases where no suitable picture is found there, I may use Bing's AI to try and "make" one. Although I do consider myself fluent in it, English is not my first language, so you may stumble upon some weirdly-put phrases here and there. I may also make use of that same AI to get a chapter started if I am overcome by writer's block, but rest assured I will make the text my own, and it will only serve to get me started, not to write the entirety of it.

I do not consider myself a historian of any kind, not even an amateur one, only a lover of history so you may find some misinformation. My ignorance of medieval history has been further polluted by George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire, meaning what I may think of as "normal medieval stuff" may actually just be "Westeros" stuff and not real history.

Anyways, please enjoy and follow along if you like. I'll try to answer any comments or questions as I can. Thanks for reading.

This is where the story begins. Coutances is pictured near the middle, while Haesteinn's fortress of Cherbourg is near the top. Saint-Lo is the third barony of the county of Cherbourg, the homeland of the "de Coutances" family. The isles of Guernsey and Jersey are also under Haesteinn's control at game start.
​

P.S. Do you readers think "From Soil to Throne" sounds good, or would "From Scythe to Scepter" sound better? I'm not sure. Let me know and I may edit the name of the AAR.

 

[Chac1]

Although the Norsemen are the villains here, definitely interested in how you resurrect your village in Brittany. I like the idea of telling the story of how these folks rose again from the ashes of their defeat. Thanks for this context as you begin.

Arnault, clad in leather and desperation, raised a sword he'd looted off a fallen invader.

That line above is so well crafted. Excellent writing there.

Do you readers think "From Soil to Throne" sounds good, or would "From Scythe to Scepter" sound better? I'm not sure. Let me know and I may edit the name of the AAR.

"Soil to Throne" is fine. But I do think "From Scythe to Scepter" is better. Plus there's the scythe that gets dropped in the first chapter.

Good luck to you as this AAR progresses, and welcome back to AARland.

 

[Darumaka]

Although the Norsemen are the villains here, definitely interested in how you resurrect your village in Brittany. I like the idea of telling the story of how these folks rose again from the ashes of their defeat. Thanks for this context as you begin.


That line above is so well crafted. Excellent writing there.


"Soil to Throne" is fine. But I do think "From Scythe to Scepter" is better. Plus there's the scythe that gets dropped in the first chapter.

Good luck to you as this AAR progresses, and welcome back to AARland.

You're so right about the title! I didn't even realize that connection haha. Changed it already .

Those Norsemen certainly are villainous... At least from our protagonists' perspective. I'm sure there's like a dozen other AAR's where they're the heroes haha. A little variety to spice up the place can never go wrong.

I got the idea for this run from CK3's mechanics actually. When a Viking lord leaves on a "Varangian Adventure" and settles in a new foreign land, his previous holdings are given to random new lords. Seeing as these new lords spring out of nowhere, I thought it'd be interesting to play as one of them, imagining them to be peasant lords who filled in the power vacuum after their oppressors left, before they inevitably submit or are conquered by the larger powers surrounding them. Unfortunately there are not many mechanics to simulate a "peasant lord," so gameplay wise it'll play as any regular Count-level character, but hopefully it'll show through the writing here and there.

 

[HistoryDude]

That is quite the start. Subbed.

Will Henri make allies in his quest for revenge?

Do you have any specific long-term goals for the campaign? Do you plan on destroying Haesteinn's dynasty or conquering Brittany as revenge for the raids of Haesteinn? Will you build a regime in France (or the HRE)?

 

[Darumaka]

That is quite the start. Subbed.

Will Henri make allies in his quest for revenge?

Do you have any specific long-term goals for the campaign? Do you plan on destroying Haesteinn's dynasty or conquering Brittany as revenge for the raids of Haesteinn? Will you build a regime in France (or the HRE)?

Thank you!

Allies may come in time, but as it stands Henri and his family are alone. His only solace is that Countances is but one of many villages who suffered the same fate. Perhaps in time these people will all band together and push this threat back into the sea.

The long-term goal has been laid on the title itself, to lead this dynasty from mere peasants wielding scythes and sickles to one that wields scepters and crowns. That's a long way off however, more immediately the goal would be to push these invaders back into the sea and reclaim the Cotentin Peninsula. Brittany is far too strong a kingdom for a mere rabble to seize, plus they haven't done Henri's family any harm.

As for Haesteinn... He is getting up there in age, and his destiny may soon take his Viking fleet elsewhere, far from the shores of Neustria (what today is Normandy, where the Cotentin Peninsula and Coutances is located). Not all warriors will leave with him however, and those that remain will have to deal with the locals quite soon.

Any regime built will likely take root upon the Northern French coast, but who knows, this game likes to take wild turns every once in a while.

 

[Darumaka]

Chapter 2 - A Dream of Peace

Haesteinn stood on the prow of his longship, the salted wind tousling his hair, his gaze lost in the horizon amidst the endless sea. Once upon a time, such a sight would have filled him with an insatiable lust for adventure Now in his twilight years however, it only reminded him of the countless shores he'd left ravaged in his wake. His crew's laughter echoed across the waves, their spirits as high as the mead that would flow that night. They were victorious, their ships heavy with the spoils of conquest, yet Haesteinn's heart was heavy with a different burden.

He turned his eyes away from the hypnotic rhythm of the waves, instead looking upon the tapestry of green hills and tranquil rivers of the Cotentin Peninsula. A longing for permanence took root within him. He had spent his life as a drifter, a ghost upon the tides, but the allure of the sea was waning. The cries of battle, the clang of steel, the thrill of plunder, had all lost their charm. His eyes saw beyond the immediate spoils; they saw the endless cycle of raiding and reaving that had defined his existence. It was a life that promised glory but delivered only fleeting satisfaction. Haesteinn yearned for something more, something as steadfast as the ancient oaks that lined the fjords of his youth.

As the night drew its cloak over the land, Haesteinn made a silent, solitary decision. He would not return to the fjords of Scandinavia, to the familiar embrace of fleeting triumphs. Instead, he would remain in this place of desolation and opportunity, to forge a new path, one not paved with the spoils of war but with the promise of renewal. His heart yearned for days spent watching his son grow strong and true, and nights wrapped in the warmth of his wife's embrace. Haesteinn knew this dream of a settled life would not be shared by most of his, yet he readied to face the brewing storm.

With the dawn came the announcement that shocked his crew to their core. Haesteinn, their indomitable leader, would stay in the peninsula. He would trade his sword for a plow, his shield for seeds. He planned to build anew where he had once laid to waste, and in doing so, he hoped to find redemption for the years of havoc he had sown. His years of raiding the Frankish coast had led him to a great spot where he could do exactly that. On the northern tip of the peninsula laid a magnificent harbour fed by the Divette River, there, Haesteinn laid his dream.

Hjalmar "the Red," who had once been his fiercest and most loyal companion, stood opposed. With every passing raid Hjalmar's arrogance grew. Men began to see Haesteinn come again in that red-haired youth, and his stout build and booming voice inspired fear and reverence as Haesteinn once had. No one could deny Hjalmar's might, and so Haesteinn feared that lacking his support would mean the end of his dream. "Haesteinn," he bellowed, "we are wolves of the sea, not sheep herders. Our legacy is written in blood upon the shores we've conquered, not the soil we till!" The murmurs of dissent grew among the ranks, a tide threatening to wash away Haesteinn's vision. But Haesteinn knew the hearts of his men—they too had families they longed to return to, and wounds that yearned for respite.

"Brothers," Haesteinn addressed his assembly, "the sagas may sing of our conquests*, but let them also tell of our wisdom. We have the might to seize these lands, but we also have the power to cultivate them. To raise our children in a realm where the axe may rest, and the plow be taken up." Many grumbled at the mere suggestion, for they dreamed of feasting in Valhalla, of dying in glorious battle, not abed surrounded by cattle.

He proposed a grand feast, a celebration of their victories, and a council of their future. As mead flowed and tales spun into the night, Haesteinn's words took root. Hjalmar, with eyes as fiery as his hair, finally stood. "My sword has been yours since the day I could wield it. If you say we are to find honor in the hearth as we have in battle, then I shall trust in your vision. Lead us once more to victory!" And so, amidst the thicket of bush, the fortress and settlement of Kjarrborg** was founded.

The Norman town of Kjarrborg**, 867 AD. Also known as Cherbourg to the French, was the first town founded by Viking settlers on the shores of Francia. Many such towns would follow in the years to come.​

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*By this point Haesteinn had already conquered the poorly-defended islands of Guernsey and Jersey, but they served as supply stations during his raids, and as safe shelters for the winter. Hardly any Norsemen settled there yet. That would change with the founding of Cherbourg however, as many Scandinavians would flock to Haesteinn's lands, both in the isles and the mainland, seeking to start a new life.

**The name “Cherbourg” is believed to have been inherited from Old French, specifically “Chieresburg”. The term likely originates from Old Norse, with “kjarr” meaning “thicket” and “borg” meaning "fort." This suggests that Cherbourg could be interpreted as a “fort in a thicket”.

 

[Nikolai]

You have a good start here, I wish you good luck with the story as it progresses! Subbed.

 

[Lord Durham]

Nice start to your AAR. I'm always up for a good narrative, especially one about those mean, nasty Vikings (with apologies to @Chac1 ). Considering English is not your primary language, you show a strong, descriptive style and some really nice phrasing. I can see some G.R.R.M influence there. I'll be curious to see where this goes.

You may want to grab a spot in The Inkwell when you have a chance. It's a good place to showcase your work. There's also the SolAARium, a place to discuss the craft of writing, AARS and anything associated.

 

[Chac1]

Good to get the Norse perspective in this chapter. (But, of course, I would say that.)

This sets up the clash between the various settlements quite nicely.

As @Lord Durham noted, AARland is a large spot and we are enriched by this new AAR. Besides the SolAARium, there's also the fAARq. Both are excellent resources for writers.

Also, feel free to interact with other writers in the main part of the AARland forum.

Thanks again for this interesting chapter. Good to get the history of Cherbourg.

 

[HistoryDude]

Haesteinn's settlement might make Henri's revenge easier, as he doesn't need to chase his foe across the sea. On the other hand, the feared raider now has lands to defend...

Is there a way to take advantage of Hjalmar's desire to continue raiding?

Will we switch perspectives between Henri and Haesteinn?

 

[Darumaka]

You have a good start here, I wish you good luck with the story as it progresses! Subbed.

Thank you! I'm glad to have you along.

Nice start to your AAR. I'm always up for a good narrative, especially one about those mean, nasty Vikings (with apologies to @Chac1 ). Considering English is not your primary language, you show a strong, descriptive style and some really nice phrasing. I can see some G.R.R.M influence there. I'll be curious to see where this goes.

You may want to grab a spot in The Inkwell when you have a chance. It's a good place to showcase your work. There's also the SolAARium, a place to discuss the craft of writing, AARS and anything associated.

I appreciate the compliments. I'm not sure the AAR will be wholly narrative, but at least these first few chapters will lean into that aspect heavily as I try to paint a picture of the setting.
I'll be sure to check both threads out, thanks.

Good to get the Norse perspective in this chapter. (But, of course, I would say that.)

This sets up the clash between the various settlements quite nicely.

As @Lord Durham noted, AARland is a large spot and we are enriched by this new AAR. Besides the SolAARium, there's also the fAARq. Both are excellent resources for writers.

Also, feel free to interact with other writers in the main part of the AARland forum.

Thanks again for this interesting chapter. Good to get the history of Cherbourg.

I now see why you started your previous comment with "Although the Norsemen are the villains here..." I don't often associate an user's avatar with their nationality, but I take it you're Danish? It is true though, every story has two sides, and the Vikings had some good to them, even if it doesn't always show this side of the North Sea...

Haesteinn's settlement might make Henri's revenge easier, as he doesn't need to chase his foe across the sea. On the other hand, the feared raider now has lands to defend...

Is there a way to take advantage of Hjalmar's desire to continue raiding?

Will we switch perspectives between Henri and Haesteinn?

You certainly have a point there. Previously Haesteinn was as able to escape retaliation by boarding his ships and sailing away, but his new fortress makes him vulnerable as his foes now know where to strike.

Hjalmar does have a role to play yet, and despite what his little speech may tell you, he is not fully on board with Haestein's vision for the future.

The story will mostly cover what will become House "de Coutances," however we may see the points of view of other people in the vicinity as it becomes appropriate.

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I'll be posting a new chapter very soon, thanks for reading along everyone.

 

[Chac1]

I now see why you started your previous comment with "Although the Norsemen are the villains here..." I don't often associate an user's avatar with their nationality, but I take it you're Danish? It is true though, every story has two sides, and the Vikings had some good to them, even if it doesn't always show this side of the North Sea...

Although there are some Danes here in AARland and others from Nordic countries, I am not among them. Yes, I use an avatar that references the Danish flag because I write about pre-Viking Era Danes. Some have questioned my use of that avatar for various reasons (although I know you didn't raise that point, just getting it out in the open) and I am considering changing it at some point. Certainly the Danes in the era that I write about would NOT have used that symbolism.

All that said, enjoying this AAR and what you are doing from a variety of viewpoints. Of course, friction in the Norse encampments will be interesting to see too. Carry on!

 

[Darumaka]

Chapter 3 - The Treaty of Angers

King Charles the Bald sat with a regal, yet weary posture upon the throne, the weight of his crown mirrored by the burden of his rule. The grand hall of his palace, usually a place of feasts and merriment, was now filled with a palpable tension as his council gathered before the dais. One by one they stepped forward, their voices echoing off the stone walls with news that darkened the room like gathering storm clouds:

Rorik of Dorestad, a name that had become a curse upon the lips of the Frisians, had betrayed his oath with King Louis "the German," and was on the offensive again. His longships, swift and silent as death itself, had been spotted along the coast of Flanders, and his warriors were feared to be preparing for another merciless attack on his son-in-law's lands.

Haesteinn, the scourge of the Loire and Seine, had entrenched himself in Neustria like a thorn on the side of his kingdom. He had built a large fortress on the Channel, beyond the reach of his knights, and began divvying up the nearby lands among his followers. There were even reports from traders who happened to deal with the Norsemen that Haesteinn sent word back home, encouraging fellow Normans to come settle upon "his lands." A worrying development.

To the south, the Gascons under Duke Antso had risen in defiance, their discontent fanned into open rebellion. Their challenge to the king's authority was as much a threat to the realm as any foreign invader, and yet they too brought a foreign threat into the kingdom. A Viking fleet had fortified themselves on the southern banks of the Garonne, seemingly under the auspices of the Duke, and had begun attacking any ships that dared course the river.*

And as if the Norsemen and rebels were not enough, reports from his son Louis "the Stammerer" had come from Aquitaine, speaking of Saracen raiders launching attacks across the breadth of the Spanish Marches, their sleek horses and flashing scimitars a stark contrast to the heavy armor and broadswords of the Frankish knights.

Worst of all were the news about his nephew's death. King Louis "the Younger" of Italy had passed without an heir, leaving the kingdom to his brother King Lothaire, who already reigned in Lotharingia and Burgundy. With his newfound power, Lothaire had begun assembling a vast army to wrestle West Francia away from King Charles, seeking to exploit the troubles of his kingdom in an attempt to reunite the Empire under a single monarch.

King Charles immediately sent a delegation to Frankfurt in East Francia, where his envoys met with the King's half-brother Louis "the German," striking an alliance to contain their problematic nephew Lothaire. The King chose to ignore the problems in the South for the time being, as the Gascons were content staying within their borders, while the Mohammedans had too few men to truly threaten Aquitaine. They could be dealt with later.

Of the two Viking lords in the North, Rorik had the largest host, and thus was the most threatening of the two. His seat of Dorestad however was quite vulnerable, and Charles knew it could not stand against the might of an unmolested East Francia, thus it became imperative that he and his half-brother defeated Lothaire in haste, so they could return and each deal with their rebel problems. In the meantime, King Charles prayed that his son-in-law Baldwin would clash with Rorik in the field, killing each other in turn, ridding him of two problems with one stone.**

That left only the villainous Haesteinn to deal with. His fortress of Cherbourg was well positioned, placed behind the thick woods and deep marshes of Cotentin, well beyond the reach of Charles' armies. Even if his men could make their way through such untamed wilderness, they would be unable to starve out the garrison, as Haesteinn could easily ferry food and supplies from across the sea via the Channel Islands. Only an assault on the walls could bring Cherbourg down, but the amount of men needed for such a feat was not one King Charles could spare at the moment. Three times Charles offered the invaders terms, trying to tempt them with riches that would make the Emperor of Constantinople and Cathay both blush, yet three times he was rejected, for the Jarl seemingly only wanted land to till and peace to do so.

Peace would be good, peace was exactly what was needed. Yet a pagan's word could never be trusted, the Norman was a fickle creature. He may till the land today, but pick up the axe the next. With such an strategic position atop the peninsula, Haesteinn could easily launch raids all across Francia with impunity, and depart well before his knights could muster a response. King Charles needed allies, and fortunately for him, the Bretons to his West thought much the same.

The Kingdom of Brittany had broken away from Francia just two decades prior, defeating King Charles at the battles of Ballon and Jengland. Since then, relations between the two kingdoms had been less than cordial, yet as of recently the Bretons had begun warming up to the idea of Frankish suzerainty, for they too had grown weary of the Viking menace. Being a day's away from Cherbourg and the Channel Islands, the presence of Haesteinn in the vicinity threatened the very existence of Brittany, and thus the two kings met in the city of Angers to sign the eponymous Treaty of Angers, second of its kind, as that was the same city where two decades prior they had met to establish peace between their realms.***

King Charles would cede the Cotentin Peninsula to the Breton King Salomon in exchange for an alliance against Cherbourg, and any Norsemen who dared attack in the future. As King Charles was much too busy dealing with his nephew Lothaire, Duke Hugo of Anjou and his levies would join the Breton army instead, and together bring down the pagan menace. To further cement the alliance, King Salomon's heir Riwallon married Duke Hugo's daughter Hildegarde, turning two families into one.

While the marriage pact had turned the two rulers into family, theirs was a dysfunctional one. Neither party could agree on who should lead their combined forces, and even making a concise plan for the march up to Cherbourg had proven difficult, with uncompromising stances from both sides, each ruler wanting the glory of taking down Haesteinn to be solely theirs. For a week they delayed, arguing to no end. No consensus was ever reached, and both armies set out haphazardly beside each other, competing for forage and information from any locals met along the way.

Their delays had been a fatal mistake. Haesteinn's spies had reached Cherbourg days before the two armies even left Angers, giving the Norsemen ample time to prepare for the coming storm. As it had become common of late, the Viking camp was split on which path would be wisest to take, with Haesteinn urging caution, while Hjalmar championed the attack. Atop the ramparts of Cherbourg, the two argued incessantly.

“Haesteinn,” Hjalmar growled, “we’ve been cooped up in this wooden cage for too long. Our warriors itch for battle. Percy and Avranches lie vulnerable, their garrisons mere shadows. I say we strike now and catch them unawares!”

Haesteinn’s gaze remained fixed on the horizon. “Patience, Hjalmar. Cherbourg is our shield. Let the enemy come and break upon our walls—they’ll find only death.” The contempt towards his grizzled leader was plain on Hjalmar's face. “Have you gone craven Haesteinn? We’re Vikings, not Franks. We do not cower behind walls." Hjalmar’s hand tightened around the hilt of his axe. "Have the years dulled your blade so much? The Gods favor the bold Haesteinn! We cannot sit idle as our foe's strength grows with every passing day. We must act now!"

The jarl’s voice dropped to a whisper, a worried frown stamped across his face. “Hjalmar, we have gone on countless raids. You and I know the aftermath of defeat. Burned villages, women weeping over their kin, orphaned children. If we set forth with this plan of yours we'd be leaving our families behind, undefended. If we were to fail... Our people deserve more than a pyre of honor. They need safety, stability—” Hjalmar spat into the wind. “Safety? Stability? Those are the words of a farmer, not a warrior. Percy and Avranches are ripe for the taking. Their riches, their women—” Haesteinn’s fist slammed against the parapet. “Enough! You see only the spoils, not the cost. Our men bleed, our families suffer. We build here, not for ourselves, but for generations to come.”

The red-haired warrior’s eyes blazed. “Generations? What good are they if we’re forgotten? I’d rather die in battle, my name echoing through the sagas." Hjalmar shook his head. "Your safety be damned Haesteinn, my mind is made. My men and I sail upon the first light. We shall seize those castles or earn a death worthy of a song. You are welcome to join us."

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*In real life, Duke Antso reigned Gascony during a very obscure period of its history, during which Gascony became de facto independent of the Frankish crown. Since the sources are sparse not much is known of how that came to be, so I simply painted it as a rebellion. Antso also settled Vikings within his land, however he did so at the mouth of the Adour, not the Garonne, but it seemed much more fitting to have them in the Garonne to guard the waters that divided the Franks and the Gascons.

**King Charles' relation with his son-in-law Baldwin was very fractious in real life. Let me explain because I really love this tale. The origin of their enmity stemmed from King Charles' own daughter, Judith of Flanders, originally of Wessex. Charles married her off to old King Æthelwulf of Wessex in 856 but their marriage was cut short a mere two years later as the king died from old age. Rather than letting her return home to Francia a widow, Æthelwulf's heir King Æthelbald decided to engage in one of the most quintessentially Anglo-Saxon practices of the middle ages, Æthelbald married his step-mother Judith. That marriage too lasted only two years. Despite her young age, Queen Judith had been keen to acquire lands in Wessex during her stay, and upon her 2nd husband's death she sold her properties in haste and fled the island with all her wealth before another one of Æthelwulf's sons could marry her.

Upon her return to the mainland, King Charles sent her off to live at a monastery rather than finding another marriage for her. Only seventeen and childless, yet already a queen twice, the life at the monastery grew stale quickly. Thankfully for her, a certain Baldwin visited this monastery upon which he found the widowed Queen and the two quickly fell in love. Soon after he helped her flee the monastery and they eloped, with the consent of her brother King Louis "the Stammerer" of Aquitaine.

King Charles disapproved of this marriage and sent men after them, but could not capture them. He pulled strings to have them both excommunicated, but Baldwin and Judith found refugee first with the Viking King Rorik of Dorestad, and later with King Lothaire II of Lotharingia, both rivals to her father. Later Judith and Baldwin made their way to Rome where they appealed with the Pope. There, Baldwin who was known for his martial prowess, threatened to take up arms and join the Viking King Rorik if the Pope did not rescind their excommunication. Fearing such threats, The Pope sent legates to King Charles until he eventually, reluctantly, accepted their marriage, giving Baldwin the March of Flanders as dowry (likely hoping he'd die defending the March from Vikings which then plagued its coasts), what eventually became the County of Flanders, one of the richest and most powerful polities in the middle ages, and from where the House of Flanders takes its name. The descendants of Baldwin and Judith would eventually participate in the Crusades and provide Kings to both Jerusalem and the Latin Empire.

***In real life the Treaty of Angers in 851 did establish peace between Brittany and West Francia, recognizing Brittany's independence and delineating their borders. Another treaty was signed in 867, but this time in Compiègne not Angers again, where King Charles did indeed cede the Cotentin Peninsula to Brittany. I changed the treaties in-game a bit for flavor and to fit the story better.

 

[Chac1]

Definitely like what you are doing here to provide an interesting alt-history, yet pluck items from our timeline's happenings to provide authenticity. Thanks for the footnotes. Very useful.

Also, I like how you are sharing the various perspectives. This gives a true multifaceted approach to this AAR. Thanks for the new chapter.

 

[Lord Durham]

While the marriage pact had turned the two rulers into family, theirs was a dysfunctional one. Neither party could agree on who should lead their combined forces, and even making a concise plan for the march up to Cherbourg had proven difficult, with uncompromising stances from both sides, each ruler wanting the glory of taking down Haesteinn to be solely theirs. For a week they delayed, arguing to no end. No consensus was ever reached, and both armies set out haphazardly beside each other, competing for forage and information from any locals met along the way.

All too true throughout history.

Their delays had been a fatal mistake. Haesteinn's spies had reached Cherbourg days before the two armies even left Angers, giving the Norsemen ample time to prepare for the coming storm. As it had become common of late, the Viking camp was split on which path would be wisest to take, with Haesteinn urging caution, while Hjalmar championed the attack. Atop the ramparts of Cherbourg, the two argued incessantly.

I like the juxtaposition between the dysfunctional rulers and the equally dysfunctional Haesteinn and Hjalmar.

The red-haired warrior’s eyes blazed. “Generations? What good are they if we’re forgotten? I’d rather die in battle, my name echoing through the sagas." Hjalmar shook his head. "Your safety be damned Haesteinn, my mind is made. My men and I sail upon the first light. We shall seize those castles or earn a death worthy of a song. You are welcome to join us."

This doesn't surprise me. Will this influence the dysfunctional rulers campaign and make Haesteinn's defence weaker?

I find the footnotes to be as interesting as the story itself. Good work.

 

[HistoryDude]

It's nice to get a wider view of things.

King Charles is in an unenviable position. Will his plan succeed?

Will Hjalmar and Haesteinn be able to resolve their differences and establish a new state?

 

[Darumaka]

Definitely like what you are doing here to provide an interesting alt-history, yet pluck items from our timeline's happenings to provide authenticity. Thanks for the footnotes. Very useful.

Also, I like how you are sharing the various perspectives. This gives a true multifaceted approach to this AAR. Thanks for the new chapter.

Thank you. It's much easier to provide this alt-history and perspectives do in the early stages of the game. As the run goes on I may have to be more inventive, especially as I lose track of the many things the AI does with the character, but as it stands the divergence is small and all it takes is a few adjustments to the narrative to fit with real-world events.

All too true throughout history.

I like the juxtaposition between the dysfunctional rulers and the equally dysfunctional Haesteinn and Hjalmar.

This doesn't surprise me. Will this influence the dysfunctional rulers campaign and make Haesteinn's defence weaker?

I find the footnotes to be as interesting as the story itself. Good work.

Indeed. History is full of what-ifs about groups of people not working together against a shared enemy, ultimately dooming them all. Just across the channel it happened so many times. First the Romans, then the Saxons, the Vikings, the Normans... What if indeed.

I actually didn't set out to paint that juxtaposition haha, but I'm glad it turned out that way.

I think it'll be a matter of which dysfunction is worse. Then again, despite being at odds, both King Salomon and Duke Hugo share a goal, while the Norsemen have different goals.

I'm glad people are finding the footnotes compelling. I admit I went a bit overboard with the one about Judith and Baldwin, but I'm eager to tell that tale anytime I can.

It's nice to get a wider view of things.

King Charles is in an unenviable position. Will his plan succeed?

Will Hjalmar and Haesteinn be able to resolve their differences and establish a new state?

Unenviable indeed, and true to West Francia in the 9th century. King Charles historically stalled the decline, but after his death the Kingdom went into a steep decline as royal power waned and the Dukes assumed control. Our Charles may have better luck, but not much more.

The better question is, do they need to resolve them to establish one?


The next chapter should be out before the week's over. Thank you everyone for reading along.

 

[jak7139]

A very well-done couple of chapters! I love the footnotes and will follow along!

 

[Darumaka]

Chapter 4 - Warriors of the Night

The Viking Assault of Avranches​

Amidst the moonless night, the Norse warriors moved like shadows through the thicket overlooking Percy. Hjalmar’s breath misted in the chill air as he surveyed the sleepy town below. Its wooden walls, worn by wind and time, seemed no match for the fury that burned within him. His warriors fueled by mead and a fierce desire for glory, had made this their first target.

Most of the garrison had left to join the armies of Duke Hugo and King Salomon, leaving behind a skeletal crew to man its walls. While some resented being left behind, most rejoiced, for they would not have to face the fierce Vikings who had longed terrorized this part of Francia. As Hjalmar's forces approached the town, half of the guards laid asleep, and the other drunkenly stumbled about, wholly unaware about what was to descend upon them.

By the time they realized what came upon them, it was too late. The Northmen breached the wooden palisades, their battle cries waking the sleeping town into a stupor. The clash was swift, like a pack of wolves descending upon a flock of sheep. Percy's defenders were overwhelmed, their futile resistance extinguished like a guttering candle.

“Avranches next,” Hjalmar declared, his eyes beaming with ambition. “And then, the whole of Neustria!”

Beside him stood Haesteinn who had finally caught up with Hjalmar. Haesteinn had reluctantly followed the red-haired warrior in his adventure, fearing that if he did otherwise, Hjalmar may fall and his army be severely weakened. The older Viking’s eyes bore the weight of countless battles, and his grizzled beard twitched as if in silent protest. “Hjalmar,” he said, “this is madness. Percy was one thing, but Avranches? It’s a fortress.” Hjalmar grinned. “Fortresses crumble,” he replied. “Especially when their garrisons are drunk and dreaming of ale.”

And so, just like in Percy, the Norsemen descended upon Avranches. The attackers moved like wraiths, their axes gleaming as the moon came to light up their advance. The gates swung open, and the town erupted in chaos. Blades clashed, torches flared, and screams echoed through the narrow streets. The inner keep was the heart of Avranches—a stout tower crowned with crenellations. Hjalmar led the charge, his eyes ablaze. The defenders rallied, but their resistance was futile. The Viking axes bit deep, and the tower fell.

As dawn painted the horizon, Avranches laid conquered. Hjalmar stood blood-soaked amidst the smoldering ruins, chest heaving. His eyes blazed with triumph. “See, Haesteinn!” he boasted, wiping his blade on a fallen soldier’s cloak. “The gods do favor the bold! Percy, Avranches—they are but stepping stones to greater glory!”

---

The Lowborn Commander

Louis de Coutances following the raid on Bayeaux​

Unbeknownst of the Viking lords' actions at Percy and Avranches, the armies of King Salomon of Brittany and Duke Hugo of Anjou continued their march northward before finally arriving at the walled town of Bayeaux, just a little ways East of the Cotentin Peninsula. As they approached its gates, neither ruler could help but notice the panicked masses gathered there, urging to be let into the town. Only then they realized the destruction around them. The fields outside the city showed the scars of fire, while scattered around the houses outside the walls laid about two dozen corpses, about half of which appeared to be Norse.

The garrison met them at the gate, their faces etched with weariness. Their armor bore the marks of battle—dented helms, blood-streaked mail, and shields splintered from the clash of steel. The wounded leaned on crutches or were carried on makeshift stretchers. Among them, a grizzled veteran with a bandaged arm stepped forward, his eyes still sharp despite the pain. He yelled at the townsfolk to scatter, to not worry as the approaching army was friends, not foes.

"You there, tell me what happened here." Duke Hugo asked the bandaged soldier who appeared to be their leader, as he dismounted his horse. "Milord," he rasped, "we faced a Norman raiding party last night. The longship came silently, like a shadow on the water. But by God we were ready. We managed to repel their attack, although not free of casualties. A single ship's worth of reavers, no more."

His accent betrayed his upbringing, this wounded man was of low birth, not fit to command a castle. "Who leads this garrison, where is the boy Hupold?* Asked Hugo, sensing something had gone awry. The bandaged warrior hesitated, but then spoke. "He was slain at the start of battle milord, he led the defense but quickly fell upon the sword of their leader—" King Salomon frowned and cut the peasant warrior mid sentence. "And who was this leader? Was it Haesteinn?" The defender shook his head, "Apologies milord, but I could not say. We know not his name, but it was some beast with a red mane. We beat him back into the sea, but not before he slain Lord Hupold."

"Hjalmar the Red," Salomon mused. “A notorious Viking raider. Yet he comes with only one ship? Are the Norsemen so weak that they cannot muster a fleet?” Duke Hugo, ever the strategist, shook his head. “Your grace, I believe this is a feint. A distraction. They test our defenses, lull us into complacency. While we celebrate our victory, they gather their strength elsewhere. ”Salomon scoffed. “Nonsense! Why would they waste their time on such petty raids? Perhaps Hjalmar is a coward, afraid to face us in open battle. It may even be that he deserted Haesteinn, fearing our attack on Cherbourg, and decided to seek riches elsewhere."

Salomon and Hugo ordered their men to set camp outside the walls, while the two of them and their closest companions made their way to Bayeux' keep where they'd spend the night. "We must set things to right before we depart" urged Duke Hugo, "I need to appoint a new commander for this garrison. An injured lowborn will not serve, no matter how good he may be with a sword." King Salomon agreed, "but we must not delay for long, thanks to your little peasant the Northmen are now a dozen men weaker. We must march upon them at first light, before their raiding parties can return and strengthen Cherbourg's garrisons."

"Milords, if I may—" the injured peasant leader approached the King and Duke gazing at their feet, not daring to look them in the eyes, "I could lead you to Cherbourg. The road there is thick with woods, and as of recently, infested with Norsemen ready to harry you every step of the way. I was born in that area, a small burnt village by the name of Coutances. I could lead you through the thicket safely, and I'm sure my brothers would be eager to join your host as well."

And so it was that Louis de Coutances joined the host of Duke Hugo and King Salomon, leaving his post in the garrison of Bayeaux where he had resided for the past six months, and set forth toward Cherbourg hoping to enact revenge on Haesteinn and Hjalmar the Red.**

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*Among his many titles, Count Renaud was lord of Evreux, Bayeux, and Lisieux. From his seat in Evreux he ruled as a vassal of Duke Hugo of Anjou, while his two sons Hupold and Francisque guarded the coastal counties of Bayeaux and Lisieux respectively. Hupold was slain by Hjalmar during the raid.

**Following Haesteinn's attack on Coutances, Henri, the eldest of Arnault's sons, had taken leadership of the survivors. While the town had been slightly rebuilt under his command, the reduced population meant there was little revenue coming towards the town, as all its inhabitants were forced to abandon their profitable crafts to tend the fields in order to make a living. As such, some of the men left the village to seek employment elsewhere, hoping to acquire coin to bring back home. Among those who became mercenaries was Louis, Arnault's second son, as well as Godefroy, their cousin who served under Lord Francisque in Lisieux.

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A very well-done couple of chapters! I love the footnotes and will follow along!

Thank you. Glad to have you aboard!

I have added threadmarks which should make it easier to follow along.