• We have updated our Community Code of Conduct. Please read through the new rules for the forum that are an integral part of Paradox Interactive’s User Agreement.

Gustave Amon

Chairman of this board
76 Badges
May 6, 2005
3.471
2
  • Stellaris
  • Cities: Skylines
  • Europa Universalis IV: El Dorado
  • Magicka: Wizard Wars Founder Wizard
  • Crusader Kings II: Way of Life
  • Pillars of Eternity
  • Europa Universalis IV: Common Sense
  • Crusader Kings II: Horse Lords
  • Cities: Skylines - After Dark
  • Europa Universalis IV: Cossacks
  • Crusader Kings II: Conclave
  • Cities: Skylines - Snowfall
  • Europa Universalis IV: Mare Nostrum
  • 500k Club
  • Hearts of Iron IV: Cadet
  • Crusader Kings II: Reapers Due
  • Europa Universalis IV: Rights of Man
  • Tyranny: Archon Edition
  • Stellaris: Leviathans Story Pack
  • Hearts of Iron IV: Together for Victory
  • Crusader Kings II: Monks and Mystics
  • Stellaris - Path to Destruction bundle
  • Cities: Skylines - Mass Transit
  • Europa Universalis IV: Mandate of Heaven
  • Europa Universalis IV: Third Rome
  • Hearts of Iron IV: No Step Back
  • Europa Universalis IV: Wealth of Nations
  • Crusader Kings II: Charlemagne
  • Crusader Kings II: Legacy of Rome
  • Crusader Kings II: The Old Gods
  • Crusader Kings II: The Republic
  • Crusader Kings II: Sons of Abraham
  • Crusader Kings II: Sunset Invasion
  • Crusader Kings II: Sword of Islam
  • Darkest Hour
  • Europa Universalis III
  • Europa Universalis IV
  • Europa Universalis IV: Art of War
  • Europa Universalis IV: Conquest of Paradise
  • Crusader Kings II
  • Europa Universalis IV: Call to arms event
  • Heir to the Throne
  • Europa Universalis III Complete
  • Magicka
  • Majesty 2
  • Europa Universalis III Complete
  • Europa Universalis IV: Res Publica
  • Victoria: Revolutions
  • Victoria 2
  • War of the Roses
- Introduction - In the dark forests of the north.

Introduction

It is winter. The snow glistens on the sloped roofs of the cottages. Small puffs of smoke escapes through the chimneys of the houses around the town square. Underneath the caked snow and ice on the walls you can still see the blood coloured paint of the houses. The cold wind blows from the north and it bites through any amount of clothes. From an almost cloudless sky there drifts lazily through the wind snowflakes as large as coins.

Outside the icy wind is filled with the repugnant stench of the tannery, the smell of beer and ale from the tavern and even the aroma of burning juniperwood from the butchers smokery.

In the streets and alleys of the town you can see footprints in the snow. It looks more like the people have been shambling than walking. The footprints all converge on one point. The town's church, overlooking this idyllic winter landscape from a small hill. For this was sunday morning and like all catholics the dwellers of this town had to go to mass. Even more so now when the time was near the annual festivities commemorating the birth of their lord and saviour Jesus Christ.

But the footprints stop outside the church and as the sun shines upon the mountains to the north, anyone can discern that these people should have been in church long ago. Yet they stand on the slope leading up to the church; captivated by the speaker in front of them.

The man on the slope speaks a dialect weird to their ears. You can hear that he is not from around here. He speaks of atrocities committed in a town that seems just as far away from here. He speaks of a tyrant king and of crimes without comparison. He says the streets in the town and even the sky were the colour of their houses that fateful evening.

Gustav_Vasa_i_Mora.jpg
Gustav Vasa speaking to the Dalecarlians

But let us leave this man and his quest, for he lives in another time, another world perhaps. Let us travel in time but let us stay in the same place.

The same town stands on the same place here. It is autumn and the green spruces surrounding the town seem darker, more foreboding than before. There is no church on the hill, indeed there is nothing there but a hill.
For the people of this time do not believe in this "White Christ" and in a field outside the town one can still see the withered remains of a maypole. It has toppled, the once colourful flowers decorating the pole are long since a grey-orange mockery of what they once were.
This heathen tradition will continue long after the inhabitants of this land have been converted to christianity. It will still be a celebration, but it will not hold the same promises of fertility in the years to come.

But now the people believe in the power of the gods. So much in fact that they each winter pay a tribute in blood to their gods. Not many years before; it was done in the same fashion in a town east of here, but that which once was is now long gone. They are believers of a dying religion. Very few believe anymore.

Alas not even their own ruler does.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well that was my little introduction to this AAR. Hope you like it :rolleyes:

I'll be playing a county in Europe, which one you'll have to guess. The actual playing will not start now, the first few posts will centre on the background and a few characters. First one to guess which county can get to decide something in the AAR later on.

English is not my first language so I'd be happy if you could help me with any grammar or spelling mistakes I might make one time to often.

Oh and any encouragement is greatly appreciated :)
 
Last edited:
Dalarna?
Your AAR looks promising, even if it isn't about old Gustav ;)
Lycka till!
 
Yep, It's Dalarna alright. It will be a riveting story about Dalecarlians, car chases runestones, just the right amount of cliché action movie one liners and full frontal nudity.

Or i could just stick to the approach i've chosen so far. :p
 
Eh... stick with the approach you've chosen so far... please?
And was this what "First one to guess which county can get to decide something in the AAR later on." was all about? I get to decide the amount of full-frontal nudity in your AAR? Cool... :D
 
I can perchance include someone with a name and a personality that you choose. A tactical or strategical decision. The sky is the limit. Well actually ck determines the limit but hey! You can't win them all ;)
 
Dysken said:
I can perchance include someone with a name and a personality that you choose. A tactical or strategical decision. The sky is the limit. Well actually ck determines the limit but hey! You can't win them all ;)

Hmm... if there is room for a ruthless, psychotic powermonger with a severely dysfunctional family in your story, I would be very approving of you naming him Gustav Eriksson :rolleyes:
 
Chapter 1 - In the dark forests of the North. - The Wanderer

BC-AD
800px-Sweden-Brastad-Petroglyph_Sko.jpg
Rock carvings in Västmanland

In the deep primordial forests of Mälardalen. Forests so thick and dark that sunlight seems more like a dream or a promise than a reality as it glimmers through the canopies of the pines and spruces. In there flows a stream, it springs from underneath a hill further upstream and it dissappears into a small pond to the west. By that stream lies a peculiar rock, covered in a thick layer of moss. It is shaped much like a fist and it points towards the pond to the west. Legend has it that this was once the hand of a troll or a giant.

Nowadays people stop to rest by the rock during their mushroom picking excursions. What they dont know is that underneath the moss lies a story. A story so old its author is long dead. Its message lost upon a modern viewer. It is covered in strange symbols and scratches aswell as crudely drawn men.

At first it might strike you as any ordinary rock carving dating from the late Bronze age. But hidden within those carvings is a tale. This is that tale.

It tells of the coming of a man. The man is tall and strong. He defeats the tribes warriors alone. He even proves his strength by killing an elk with his bare hands. The terrified tribesmen makes him their chieftain and builds him a dwelling worthy of a god.

The next carving shows the same man sitting in a hut. Surrounding him are warriors. The next carving shows even more warriors surrounding the man.

The next carving shows the tall man in the sky above the tribesmen.
The scratchings suggest a scratch every year the man was alive. Pointing towards the midsummer solstice. If this is too be true the man lived for 64 years. An astounding feat and at that time probably worthy of the god title.

Indeed archelogical excavations suggest that the tribe dwelling in Mälardalen at that specific era were united sometime around 500 BC. Taking the name Suiones. That is what later was to become Svear and lastly Swedes. That is the people, but this is the tale of a line of descendants tracing back to the wanderer from 500 BC.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Here all evidence of the connection ends for almost 1000 years before resurfacing in my next post.
 
Last edited:
Steevo said:
I like the first-person approach. Dalarna- so then what are the ambitions of this county?

*Edit* Here be monsters*Edit*
 
Last edited:
Chapter 2 - In the dark forests of the north. - The migration.

40AD - Somewhere in Västmanland

pineForest.jpg
Pine forest
The wind rustles through the fields of wheat and rye. The sun reflects on the water, it is all very still. The silence is only disturbed by the occasional bass striking the surface of the lake.

We have moved further west now, leaving the forests of Sörmland and following the shores of lake Mälaren inland and entering what will soon become Västmanland. Here in the fertile heartland of the Suiones a divide has occured.
Some wishing the leave land and some wishing to stay. The last winters have been harsh; many have frozen or starved to death. Some have already left, others will now. They are heading south, south to the sea. There are rumours of a land there with immense riches

Approaching footsteps disturb the silence of the land. The sound grows louder, it is like thunder now. From the edges of the forest people start emerging, at first they are few perhaps five score. But much like a spring river, a small trickle becomes a steady flow. They are many, there are three Chieftains from the north and then five from the other side of the lake were the game is plenty and then there is the great one from the west.
He towers like the pines of the forest above his tribe. He is dressed in woolen clothes and around his right arm is a bracelet of purest gold. This has been passed down from his ancestors since the time before time. He wears it proudly for it is the sign of his birthright as the leader of this tribe, his tribe!
His name is Ybor and what he does not know is that he is once again heading back to the land of his ancestors. His tribe, the Winili will suffer immensely, but they will reach their goal after many years.
There on the shores of the Elbe they will make their home.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

I just couldn't resist the urge to link them to the Langobardes.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Langobardes
 
Last edited:
Oh and ofcourse any scientific lingo or claim I make. Is either pure BS or poetic licence.
 
Dysken said:
None really, Stay pagan for as long as i can, Survive and maybe become the king of sweden. No powergaming here.

Oh, but there is one goal though. To tell a story and develop my writing.

God that last line sounds cheesy. Well tbh I'm going to RP as far as I can. If i'll get swallowed by the mongols in the 13th century then that sucks. But atleast the Dalecarlians won't go down without a fight! And I've changed my mind about that pagan thingie, main char in the beginning of the AAR will most certainly be christian.
I'll see if i can finish the introductory chapters today and begin with the real AAR soon, I hope you people are as excited as I am! :)
 
Last edited:
Chapter 3 - In the dark forests of the north. - The Lombard.

AD 900 Somewhere in the middle of Europe

plus_lombards.gif
Lombards riding to war.

He had been walking for weeks now. The gravel on the dirt road pounded relentlessly against his feet; they were blisters, so were his hands. In fact he had to leave his wooden walking stick when he passed the Monastery of the Benedictine monks, by the river Isar. It was nothing more than splinters anyway.

He and his family had been expelled from Lombardia by their Duke Grimoald.
He was a master blacksmith, short and burly but with arms as hard as the steel he hammered with them. He was growing bald and his legs were not as strong as once had been. He wondered if he would live to hear the news of a new pope being inaugerated.

His father before him had been a blacksmith and his father before him. To him it seemed as if being a blacksmith was in his blood. He had worked in Vindobona (Old name for Wien/Vienna) for a short while in order to pay for his family's safety. They were travelling with pilgrims returning home after a visit to Rome and he would meet them in Magadoburg. From there he would travel to the land of the Norse. They had need of skilled metalworkers, for they had the ore to craft weapons as sharp as to cut through rock. But not the wisdom to do it.

They spoke a language not unlike his; his language had been passed down from his anscestors who came from the north. Many other Longobardians adapted to their surroundings and their language sounds not unlike latin or Fiorentinan. His resembled the language spoken in Lower Germania by the Saxons more.

The twilight wrapped its veil tightly around the valley; he found a shielded ravine in which he could sleep for the night. His feet hurt as if the devil himself had come up from hell to torment him.
- Now I know how the iron experiences it, he mused
He regretted that he had thrown away his walking stick. It would have made good firewood up here where the nights were colder.

He missed his homeland and the hot evenings in the city during the summers and his days as a boy listening to the crickets in the countryside. But he did not fear this new land however. It, felt... it felt like he was coming home.


------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two towns are mentioned in this text, another one however is not for it has not been founded yet. I did however mention some clues in the text. E-cookie to anyone who figures out which one it is and where it is mentioned.
 
Last edited:
There added some pictures. I'll get on with the last piece(s) of the introduction soon.

*bump* Organized it into chapters aswell.
 
Steevo said:
I like the first-person approach. Dalarna- so then what are the ambitions of this county?

I'll see if i can keep up the first person approach after the introduction. I can imagine that combats and scenic descriptions will fit the first person perfectly. However i think i might drop it when people start interacting more.

Veldmaarschalk said:
Great start, to a very promising AAR

Thank you! Loved your Lombard AAR
 
Great start, gotta love Germanic mystery! Looking forward to an update :)
 
Chapter 4 - In the dark forests of the north. - The Traveller

AD 1050

Deep beneath the waves of the Baltic sea, in the murky waters surrounding Åland. Here embedded in a muddy bank lies a ship. She sank with her crew during one of the fiercest storms to ever strike the baltic. The skeleton of the helmsman is still aligned towards the west. Had not the years passed and his flesh withered away he would still be clutching the rudder with all his might.

***

AD 950

The wind has calmed and the rain has stopped. The grass plain is glistening with the dew of yet another quick summer shower. It is midday and the sun shines from the south. Through fickle cloud cover the rays of the sun hit the ancient oaks below the Danevirke. The Ancient trees have seen all and are not easily impressed, they have seen the migration of the Lombards from their homeland, they have seen the Lombards descendant return and now... the last thing they will ever see is the offspring of the Lombard ordering their destruction.

It will be a grand ship, one worthy of the name Vindauga. -The Eye of the Wind- It is more than 75 feet long and decorated with intricate wood carvings. It is adorned by a huge red and white sail. At the front there sits the face of a snarling dragon; fiercer than any before and any after.

In the late autumn when the forests of the north turn a myriad of colours; Orange, red, black, brown, green and yellow Vindauga sets sail towards the east. It will travel all the way to Miklagård (Constantinople) and Kiev.

With its coffers full with coins from Constantinople, Arabia, Rome and France; the profits of trading and raiding. It once more set sail for the west. For Uppland and Södermanland and Dalarna; for it is here the crew lives. The master blacksmiths of the Dales.

ship.jpg
Viking longship

***

AD 1050

Trees are not easily impressed, but there is there was one thing on the boat they could not have seen. It is something older than even them. It is of purest gold.
The ever shifting waters make the carvings dance a sinister dance before the eyes. The bracelet still hangs around the arm of the helmsman as he continues to hang on to the rudder in time eternal. It has been passed down from his ancestors since the time before time. He wore it proudly for it is the sign of his birthright; as the leader of this tribe, his tribe!

----------------------------------------------------

Well that kind of wraps up the background story. Hope you liked it. I'm afraid my gaming wont hold the same quality I've managed to miraculously hold so far.

For those who don't know what the "Danevirke" is, dont worry just learned of it and thought it would make a good fond for the Schleswig-Holsteinian landscape.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Danewerk

Thank you for reading :)
 
Pirate Z said:
Great start, gotta love Germanic mystery! Looking forward to an update :)

Thank you thank you =)
 
Dalarna 1066

Finally.jpg
The kingdom of Sweden and Neighboers​

Dalarna is the lighter blue in Sweden.
 
Last edited: