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@Lord Durham, I'm so happy to have you as a reader and a commenter. You raise a fair point about Cy. When I saw that he was sadistic, wrathful, and was a reaver with a huge prowess score, I began to see someone not necessarily overpowered, but severely emotionally imbalanced. It takes a special kind of screwed up to derive pleasure from hurting others, killing people, and destroying their livelihood and their hope. There will be chances to see other sides of him, although I haven't written them yet so it may be a while. A question in my mind is: what happened to Cy in his life that would make him this way? Even without an answer, asking the question balances him out a bit in my mind because babies don't come into the world hardwired for this path. Stuff has to happen.
My issue with Cy wasn't about his sociopathic personality. Chances are it was an inherited gene coupled with a crappy childhood (father beat him; mother didn't love him; wrong crowd as a kid) that shaped him. Even then there should be an offsetting trait or two (loves cats; has a pet hamster - whatever). His character is quite chilling, which is a good thing. The overpower comment had more to do with his superman like prowess in battle, becoming a one man wrecking crew and emerging without so much as a scratch (that I recall).
I'm glad you felt like you had the choice to read the "vanilla" version. It sounds like you may have read both. I would say that I'm basically with you. I don't want to give my readers nightmares (or myself for that matter). I think it's fair to say, though, that Cy will often bring us to a dark place and that there are other places in this tale where really horrible things will happen, sometimes maybe to children. That said, I hope that when it does happen in the story, I will be able to tell it in a way that does not fetishize it or make the audience think something positive about the event. I do promise to always give my readers an "out" when I think something pushes the edge, though.
I have to reiterate my comment about children and dark place. Though I have free rein to run AARland, I still have to answer to people above my pay grade (not that I get squat in that regard) in case someone complains. Keep that in mind.
I know very little about real football. I did look up what the letters and numbers mean before "hike" was called. I honestly can't remember what exactly they meant, but I believe it corresponds to a team's playbook. They call out colors and numbers to reference things that make sense to their team and won't give much away to their opponents. I think this is standard operating procedure for football teams, but perhaps a reader who actually follows football and/or plays (or played) it will be able to say more. In my game, of course, this is exactly how it's done for all the hordes that follow the Norse religion.
You are right about the playbook. Before a set play the offensive team will huddle and the quarterback (general) will call a particular play. An audible is when the quarterback sees something the defense has set itself up in a pattern he doesn't like and calls out letters and numbers to reset the offense before starting the play. Simplified, but you get the gist. While I think of it, are archers and cavalry part of the mix?
Both sides are bit players in the game, but both were fielding their entire army and meant business. The scale would have seemed pretty epic to me, although I suspect not as large as battles to come.
Good idea. I suspect that those watching Blackadder for the steamy love scenes might be disappointed.
I watched a few episodes in my twenties, but I really struggled to wrap my head around a Rown Atkinson who could talk. I knew him as Mr. Bean first. I’m so glad that I didn’t know he was Zazoo in the Lion King until my 30s. I don’t think I could have handled it.
As for Lars' feelings of being threatened, it might happen, but I think Gus has a character trait that might make it easy for Lars not to care. Can you find it?
Yes, Teach, I can! Gus is humble (calm & diligent too), while Lars is arrogant (plus eccentric and ambitious). I can see Lars accepting his warriors’ admiration for Gus’ military leadership as long as Gus defers to him, but if Gus ever pushes back, especially if the warriors support Gus’ position, Lars may not react well. Or so I imagine!
Anyone willing to clue me in on what these post-game activities are? I’d assume drinking, but I assume there’s drinking after US football matches, too.
The overpower comment had more to do with his superman like prowess in battle, becoming a one man wrecking crew and emerging without so much as a scratch (that I recall).
Don’t worry, @Lord Durham. Cy doesn’t always get to save the day in battle. That would indeed get old. The scales are coming to balance him out. Eventually.
I have to reiterate my comment about children and dark place. Though I have free rein to run AARland, I still have to answer to people above my pay grade (not that I get squat in that regard) in case someone complains. Keep that in mind.
I hear you. As someone who has to enforce content standards, I will make sure we are in communication should things travel that direction again. I always appreciate when my students give me a heads up when pushing a boundary.
I also want to reiterate that I don’t have plans to make that sort of thing a regular post. Maybe some people would like that kind of story, but I can’t live too long in the darkness when I create. It drags down the rest of my life.
Lars is a dastardly villain, but the story will stay fun.
Yes, Teach, I can! Gus is humble (calm & diligent too), while Lars is arrogant (plus eccentric and ambitious). I can see Lars accepting his warriors’ admiration for Gus’ military leadership as long as Gus defers to him, but if Gus ever pushes back, especially if the warriors support Gus’ position, Lars may not react well. Or so I imagine!
Anyone willing to clue me in on what these post-game activities are? I’d assume drinking, but I assume there’s drinking after US football matches, too.
Hey! I just nominated you for an AARland Choice Awards award for this last quarter. I hope that everyone who follows will participate by voting.
It’s also a great way to learn about other high quality AARs that you haven’t read. See here the details: Q2 2025 ACAs.
Dramatis Personae
Lars, Chief of the Rochester Tribe
Last significant event: Attempted to poison Lung
Maximillian, Raven (Spymaster) of the Rochester Tribe
Last significant event: Attempted to poison Lung
Mahamed, War Chief of the Rochester Tribe
Last significant event: Agreed to conspire to murder Lung after Lung used him as a human shield
Sonja, Elder of the Rochester Tribe
Last significant event: Ran a sewing circle that many of the women of the Rochester Tribe joined
The moon had passed its zenith, but no sunlight teased the horizon. The mead hall was, of course, empty. There was some risk to meeting here. It is a common space to the tribe and used daily for meals and for working on indoor projects in a more social environment. At this hour, though, all the good people of the Rochester Tribe would be asleep. There is also no way that someone could walk into the hall without being noticed and if anyone chose to peer into the window, they would see only shadowy figures in the middle of the room where Lars was sitting at a table. All the same, he had drawn the curtains closed. He lit torches in the corners of the mead hall. It would provide enough light to see by, but be dim enough to make it difficult for any to determine what was happening inside. That was good, because no one wanted to be implicated in the murder of a refri.
To be honest, Lung was an obnoxious problem he was tempted to ignore, but his wife had a way of putting things into terms that made an issue much more important.
There were hundreds of them. Perhaps thousands. Scrolls lining every wall of the large hollowed out cavern. There even appeared to be books. Lars could not be sure because books had not been a means of storing information for centuries, but the flat scrolls held together inside a hard flat surface seemed to fit the description of what he was seeing. This was the stuff of legend!
“Jamilla, this is incredible,” said Lars. “How did you find this place?”
“It was completely accidental and no easy task,” she said. “Lea and I had been sorting through the mess of scrolls in the temple library fer weeks. I had just started on a new pile leaning against a wall when I noticed what I thought was a large crack in the side of the temple wall. I was gonna clear away the scrolls so that we could get a stone mason ta fix it when I realized that I wasn’t looking at a crack. I was looking at a stairway that went down a few steps into an alcove.”
“Lea and I began ta pull out the numerous scrolls that had clogged the alcove ta see why the temple builders had put one there. We were amazed ta discover a door at the back. We tried our luck and it wasn’t locked. It opened onto this shrine.”
Lars took in the sight. In the center was a statue of a two headed figure with a sharp dagger in one hand and a quill in the other. He was gloved and completely covered in what the sculptor intended to be a tight, clean fabric. The fabric even covered both heads and faces with only a small open visor for the eyes to show through. This statue of the god Meijo was an unusual sight indeed, but that was only a curiosity compared to the walls and shelves covered in scrolls. What’s more, according to Jamilla and Lea, they seemed to be organized in some fashion and, as befitted a shrine to the god of healing and medical knowledge, it appeared that all of these scrolls contained knowledge of medical techniques and treatments dating back as far as the Event, possibly before.
Lars could imagine Dramaticus standing where he stood right now, maybe as the statue was being installed. He certainly would have been involved in the planning of such a place. Preserving the wisdom of his generation was one of Dramaticus’ highest priorities.
“How could we have not known about this?” Lars asked.
Jamilla frowned. “Lung! As an acolyte, he had been given the responsibility of maintaining the library. His ‘cataloging system’ has, fer years, consisted of pulling out the scroll he wants, setting it on the table in the middle of the library, and when the pile got too big and he wanted ta find a scroll he needed, he would toss the scrolls behind him ta clear some room on the table. I can find evidence of that porridge he eats every morning on scrolls going back all the way ta the bottom of the pile.”
Lars was shocked. “It must have taken hundreds of scrolls ta fill up that alcove.”
“437, ta be exact. I counted.”
Lars was quite certain Jamilla’s count was accurate.
“He had forgotten about the door. Of course, he was supposed ta go in every day as a youth ta dust the shelves and monitor for signs of decay, but-” she paused to imitate Lung’s voice “‘one sunny day, back in my wild youth, I decided I would rather be with my friends than these dusty old scrolls, so I took the piles and put them down in the alcove. My doddering old master forgot it was there… and so did I until you mentioned it.’ wild youth indeed! He still never takes the time ta do a task correctly, whether it’s preparing a ritual, memorizing a blessing or putting a scroll back where he found it. He’s incompetent!”
Lars nodded, but changed the subject. “This could bring in scholars from all over the world. The Rochester Tribe will be famous and the knowledge in these scrolls could change all of our lives!”
“Maybe, Lars,” said Jamilla, “but as long as Lung is refri of this tribe, the whole place is in danger. There have been many nights, long after he was in bed, that I have put out fires he’s left burning in the big pits fer sacrifices in the main temple. They could’ve burned the whole place down. Fer gosh sakes, ya have ta get rid of him.”
“What do ya want me to do, Jamilla?” shot back Lars. “A chief has no power over who is refri. Separation of church and state has been a key part of Minnesotan culture fer… well… ever!”
Jamilla’s brow furrowed and her voice grew cold. “I don’t care. Yer job is to protect and build the tribe. Do it. Unless all that stuff ya said to me at our wedding was just the talk of a jumped up chieftain who’s too big fer his britches. In all the sagas about Dramaticus, ya don’t hear anything about his incompetent advisors. He probably had them, but they didn’t stick around long. Are ya a scion of Dramaticus or not???”
She’d been right. It was annoying to admit, but if he wanted to live up to his legacy, Lars had to get a new refri. At that moment, the main door to the mead hall opened just enough for a man to slide in. Lars’ raven walked in and sat down at the table.
“Here we are again,” said Maximillian. “I still can’t believe he isn’t dead.”
“Ya really blew it, Maximilian,” grumbled Lars. “He obviously didn’t have water in that bottle of his that he was drinkin’ from at breakfast. If ya would have sidelined the servants ta delay his food until he was thoroughly drunk, we wouldn’t be having this conversation tonight. So much fer yer boasts and promises.”
“Raven, I have a problem,” said Lars. For this conversation, he had met Maximillian in his cabin, which had been built outside of the Rochester Tribe’s palisades. Lars now saw how convenient it was to meet without the prying eyes or ears of neighbors. “Lung is an incompetent refri and I need a way ta get rid of him and get a new one. At this point, anyone would be better, but I have no idea how ta do it.”
Maximilian pondered the situation. “Locking him up won’t work. I’m not sure ya even have the authority ta imprison him, and even if ya did, people would look upon ya disfavorably. It could ruin yer recruitment efforts for yer warband and host.”
“Also, he’s still the refri even if he’s in my dungeon,” said Lars.
“That leaves getting him ta relinquish his position voluntarily, or…”
Lars’ eyes widened, “ya mean… kill him?”
“It wouldn’t be that great of a loss. As ya say, he’s incompetent. We both know he will never give up the only bit of status he’s ever had. Personally, I wouldn’t miss him. The man has never even clasped hands with me. I have no use fer him.”
“You’ll help me with this then?” Asked Lars, a bit uncertain.
Maximillian smiled. “The raven has talons fer a reason.”
Maximilian bristled under the criticism leveled against him. “Be that as it may, Chief Lars,” Maximilian retorted with the slightest hint of defiance in his voice, “it was yer plan ta feed him the hemlock. Have ya forgotten that?”
Before Lars could respond, an old woman entered the mead hall, slamming the door behind her. “How did he come back from the raid? Ya swore ya could get him the poison or, failing that, he would die on the sword of an enemy!”
“Lower yer voice, Sonja,” rumbled Maximillian. “We don’t want ta draw unwanted attention.”
She did not acknowledge his statement as she sat at the table, glaring at both the men, but in acknowledgement of their point, her next complaint was only slightly above a whisper. “I found the hemlock fer ya. None of ya could have done that. I ground it up so finely that ya could have slipped it into anything without so much as raising an eyebrow. Yet, he still lives. I need justice!” Her jaw was clenched and her eyes were cold and empty. Lars recalled the first time he had seen that expression.
“We are the Allfather’s children,” intoned Lung, “let us go out and let the world know of our power and glory. So mote it be!”
“So mote it be,” the tribe responded. Or at least… most of them did.
Lars had been spending his time during Lung’s sermon pondering questions of life and death. Mostly Lung’s life and death. Ever since his conversation with Maximillian, he had been trying to think of a plan that would deal with the refri invisibly. As his mind explored and rejected a myriad of possibilities, he glanced at the faces of others in worship. His wife’s expression was, of course, dutiful. Even as he saw her frustration when Lung rushed through a prayer or forgot some small part of the ceremony, she always responded with the right thing and in moments of prayer seemed genuinely reverent.
Many others looked bored. Lung was not the most dynamic preacher. However, as the chief’s eyes roved over the attendees, Lars saw one with an expression he would not have expected. Sonja was staring at the refri with dead, empty eyes and, while Lars could not guess the thoughts behind her eyes, he imagined they were not charitable ones. Could there be some opportunity there? He had to find out.
As the crowd disbursed, Jamilla and Lars separated. She had been spending time trying to make sense of the Shrine of Meijo, and he usually had a few tribe members who approached him with some kind of concern. Today, though, he ignored them all and made a beeline toward Sonja.
“Sonja,” greeted Lars as the woman walked to her cabin. “May I walk with ya fer a moment?”
“That would be an honor, chief Lars,” she responded. Respect was so refreshing. As a young chief, he found he didn’t have as much as he would like.
“I must beg yer forgiveness. During the sermon, my mind wandered a bit and, when I should have been focused on my communion with the Gods, I instead found myself noticing that ya were very upset during the sermon. May I ask what’s troubling ya?”
The pleasantness in Sonja’s voice went away like a candle blown out. “That showed on my face? I must get better at schooling my emotions. They do not always serve me well.”
Lars’ face was all concern and care. “All the same, it disturbs me ta know ya carry such pain in yer heart. Please share. I shall keep it confidential, of course.” Unless it makes good blackmail, he thought to himself.
She was silent for a moment. “Why don’t ya come ta my cabin fer a cup of tea, Chief Lars?”
“It would be my pleasure, elder,” he said smoothly.
Once seated with a cup of mint tea, he waited patiently while she settled herself at her chair. She took a sip, swallowed and after a deep breath, began to speak. “Ya asked why I was upset. Chieftain, upset is far too mild a term fer my feelings. Whenever I see Lung up there spouting off some kind of holy drivel, I feel sick inside. It’s wrong.”
Lars nodded, not having to fake any sympathy, “I agree. He is an incompetent, bungling-”
“No!” Sonja interrupted. Lars reminded himself that he should overlook her rude interruption of her chief until he’d determined whether or not he could put her to use in dealing with the refri.
“Incompetence I could live with. It’s sad that there’s not another refri here who could do a good job, but not everyone can be smart and capable. What I can’t live with is the thought that he tried ta deny my husband Sven his way to Valhallafame fer no particular reason.”
“Why would a refri do that?” asked Lars.
“I don’t know, but it was unjust. Sven’s death saved lives.” Sonja took another drink and stilled her shaking hands.
“Several years before ya became chief, we had problems with raiders from all sides. Yer poor dad was not at his best. Our neighbors knew it. They thought we were easy pickings.”
“They didn’t count on the will of the Rochester Tribe, though,” said Lars. “No one marched off with plunder from our treasury during my father’s rule.”
“That’s true,” agreed Sonja, “but a few times it was close. One such time, my husband Sven was out on a walk, at night. He liked ta walk outside under the stars. When his feet took him ta the edge of the palisade, he must have noticed a hook lodged between the logs and went over ta investigate. A few raiders had gotten inside. They were surely gonna open the gates fer the warband on its way. Sven called out an alarm. The first of our people ta wake up said that he attacked the raiders with nothing more than his walking stick. They gutted him quickly, but it gave time fer a few of our warriors ta hear and answer the raiders with steel of their own. There is no doubt in my mind that he saved the tribe.”
At this, her eyes turned red and she struggled with composure. “I haven’t talked about this in years, Lars. What happened next was… worse. Sven died slowly of his belly wound. It took several days. When it was done, I asked the refri ta prepare a funerary longboat fer him. That scumbag looked at me like I was vermin in a granary and told me that my husband was not a warrior anymore. It’s true that he hadn’t raided or guarded the town since old age came upon him, but he fought and died in battle like any good viking. I appealed ta yer father and he commanded Lung ta do the service. He did it, but I had ta watch him every step of the way. I caught him messing up the ceremony a few times, too and made him redo it. He’s such an awful refri that it’s hard ta prove, but I’m sure that he did it on purpose.”
“I’m glad ya were there to catch it,” Lars flattered in his most sympathetic tone. “My Jamilla has done the same thing on several occasions. I have thought that sometimes he might not be as incompetent as he seems.”
“Chief Lars,” continued Sonja, “I know that in truth, no wrong has been done. My husband’s boat sailed down the Zumbro River that day and his ceremony was perfect, but sometimes when I sit in the temple and watch that man preach, I think of how much I wanna avenge what he tried ta do ta my Sven. I’m powerless, though. I don’t know how ta wield a weapon and I’m an old lady too weak ta fight if I could. My soul cries out for vengeance, though. Do ya think… would ya be able to help me?”
“Our hearts beat together on this, Sonja, but I cannot think of a way-”
“I have something,” she said, her eyes filled with fire. “It’s not a warrior’s way, but I know where some hemlock grows in the woods around here. He has ta eat it, though, and he would never take food from me. He knows how I feel.”
Lars smiled, “Sonja, ya have just solved a problem fer both of us.”
If only he’d been right. He hadn’t counted on Maximillian’s incompetence. Lars wanted this business behind him. Still, all was not lost.
The door opened one last time. Mahamed entered and gazed at everyone else.
“These are the others, Chief Lars?” he asked.
“Yah,” responded Lars with a grin. “I’m glad ya decided ta come. Our first attempt ta send the refri to his Gods has failed, but with the people we have in this room tonight, I’m sure another way can be found. One that is more certain and still frees all of us from the… complications that come if we’re believed ta be involved. Let me explain my plan and ya can help me fill in the details so that in a very short time, the Rochester Tribe is welcoming a new refri.”
Well obviously the sagas aren't going to mention incompetent advisors, unless it was to bash a predecessor of Dramaticus for hiring/gathering those advisors.
Nice chapter. I have to admit I got a bit lost at start with the "flashbacks" as it was not so clear that the divisory line introduced a totally different scene (at least for me).
Said that, I enjoyed the reading. It's interesting to see how Lung has managed to get most of the tribe against him, and yet survive (to date).
Some nice background for why everyone else wants to murder Lung (and I bet many more besides are sympathetic to the scheme). Really, it is only a matter of time until the Refri is in the afterlife.
Meijo? Is that some evolution of the word "medical" personified and turned into a god?
I did find the flashbacks confusing at first too. Maybe some italicized text before each scene could help?
I have to admit I got a bit lost at start with the "flashbacks" as it was not so clear that the divisory line introduced a totally different scene (at least for me).
Ah, yes…. and no. I think some of the remaining people in the tribe feel like the schemers, but not most.
The game gave me something to work with that I thought was a powerful undercurrent. I could have ignored it, but I decided not to. Since no one has brought it up, I will ask a few questions.
1. How would you have characterized Lung’s misdeeds before the battle with the Jarldom of the Northwoods? After?
2. How are the grievances that the schemers (except for our dear chief Lars) similar to or different from other complaints made by tribespeople about Lung?
If you think you figured it out, you can name one or more tribe members not involved in the plot who may have harbored similar feelings to give a hint or post a spoiler with your answer. All will be revealed before the next post.
I guess is more about the unexpected change, not if slashes, asterisks or whatever symbol.
I missed some introductory words hat helped understand the scene change (Lars recalled the first time he had seen that expression ... it was a couple of weeks ago, when Jamilla took him to the library ... )
Once got it, the other scenes - one per character - were clear and passage structure understood.
I find it was very interesting and smart from your side to tell about the plot to kill Lung before the reasons behind it. It certainly caused a lot of discussion here and readers shared their views and feelings. Having presented before the reasons would had probably cut all this, as everyone would support, or at least understand, the schemers.
With the information to date, I guess Cy is not on the plot (he would have no interest in politics or conspiracies) neither Gus nor Philip (they are yet too new into the tribe dynamics). No clue on Avery or Alicia, nothing makes me think why they could want Lung dead, but maybe there are events not yet narrated.
