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uuuh, so evil. Killing people and stuff. And lappish. Do they have cavalry? 
Reindeers?
Reindeers?
Enewald said:uuuh, so evil. Killing people and stuff. And lappish. Do they have cavalry?
Reindeers?
Absolutely no idea. But they could raise more light cavalry than I could
It's amazing. Your story is... amazing. Well, I can't say less than that
I like your story and decide to follow your story till the end (if you have commitment to finish it)
Let me see
I feel that the main protagonist in your story is Prince Magnus and not his younger brother, King Olaf. Although easily to anger and a bit coward in the battlefield, but his fate makes him interesting as the main protagonist. A Character who fall into a bad situation is always interesting to be told.
Why Olaf is too perfect to my taste? He just surround his brother with his allies. If they play in a chess, Olaf has said,"Check Mate" to his brother. But, I think his plan is a bit dangerous for me. The way he bring foreign army to his land can be dangerous to Norway. He makes them enter Norway. Imagine, a King who let's foreigner army enter his Realms. It just... well, let's a thief to enter your house.
In term of military power, Olaf is far more superior than Magnus. His army is five to one to his brother. But, what about advisors and generals??? If I not mistaken, an army is as good as it's general.
I like your story and decide to follow your story till the end (if you have commitment to finish it)
Let me see
I feel that the main protagonist in your story is Prince Magnus and not his younger brother, King Olaf. Although easily to anger and a bit coward in the battlefield, but his fate makes him interesting as the main protagonist. A Character who fall into a bad situation is always interesting to be told.
Why Olaf is too perfect to my taste? He just surround his brother with his allies. If they play in a chess, Olaf has said,"Check Mate" to his brother. But, I think his plan is a bit dangerous for me. The way he bring foreign army to his land can be dangerous to Norway. He makes them enter Norway. Imagine, a King who let's foreigner army enter his Realms. It just... well, let's a thief to enter your house.
In term of military power, Olaf is far more superior than Magnus. His army is five to one to his brother. But, what about advisors and generals??? If I not mistaken, an army is as good as it's general.
Brainsucker said:It's amazing. Your story is... amazing. Well, I can't say less than that
You flatter me, but I'll take it
thank you sir.That is certainly a fear worth note. But the vast majority of those Danes brought into Norway were mercenaries, more loyal to coin than any crown. We will learn more about those nasty individuals later.
Generals and leaders due have an impact, but Magnus usually ends up in command, and his paltry Martial score is not helpful. He also spends a great deal of time sick, which only hurts his stats. In terms of his subordinates, the Marshal is mediocre, and most of the vassals are old and weak, only Jarl Finn has any amount of martial prowess worthy of note.
But the great thing about CK is that all it takes is one battle for everything to change
Im about half way through the next update, thanks for reading everybody!
Brainsucker said:
Soon I hope, I got stuck working some bizarre swing shifts that left my writing looking a little, well, bad.
Overhalla, August 1078
"Halt!" The cry echoed off the walls of the hall. Eystein rushed to the window of the hall and looked out across the courtyard.
"Damn that, kill them!" He recognized that voice; it was Alric, captain of the Jarl's personal guard. He rarely raised his voice above a whisper, so the sound of his screaming orders made Eystein pay even closer attention. This was no petty thief or over-amorous ruffian. Something serious was happening. Grabbing his sword, Eystein rushed out to the courtyard as the doors of the great hall swung open. The light poured out onto the darkened, rain-soaked stones of the courtyard, blinding Eystein for a moment.
The first figure out of the door was Kobach, the short Russian. He looked around the courtyard franticly, eyes wide with fear. In his hand he gripped a dagger, knuckles white from strain. Bowling out of the door behind him, tossing aside a young Norseman who rushed to bar his way was Ivan. Blood was running down his face from a gash across his forehead, and he let out a roar in confusion. Things were going very wrong. Kobach shouted something in Russian and pointed towards the gate. Wiping his forehead, Ivan grunted in approval and began a rush towards the exit. As Alric and the other guards flooded into the courtyard, Eystein rushed to put himself between the fleeing Russians and their escape.
"Careful Eystein!" Alric Shouted over the din as his men poured out around him. "They attacked the Jarl." Quickly the surprised marshal drew his sword and stepped back, challenging the two Russians to fight their way through him to reach freedom. Kobach hesitated, which meant his larger companion kept coming. Ivan was unarmed, but the man's fists were large enough to knock Eystein aside with little effort. Ducking swiftly, Eystein rolled away from the first massive swing. With a jerk he slashed his blade at the big man's legs. The sheer momentum of his charge sent the assailant toppling into the ground, but it also jarred the sword out of Eystein's hands. With a shock, Eystein was knocked to the ground as Kobach landed on his back.
The short man's dagger shot down looking to dig deep into Eystein's neck. Eystein twisted with all his might and brought his fist up to block the plunging dagger. He let out a curse as the blade scratched over his knuckle, but the block was enough to save his life for a moment. Kobach cursed something in Russian as the dagger smashed into the dirt and twisted from his hand. With a heave, Eystein turned his body and sent Kobach flying off. But before he could breathe he felt the shadow of Ivan standing above him. With a roar the big man raised his fist to smash the marshal in the face.
But rather than finish him off, Ivan stopped. He let out a cry as the short axe buried itself in his chest. The second thrown axe caught him in the shoulder and sent him hurtling backwards. Eystein shot his gaze to the other Russian, who found himself surrounded by the Jarl's guards. In a matter of seconds it was over. Two of the guards rushed to the injured Ivan and finished him off with a few jabs, while the others knocked Kobach to the ground and restrained him. With a moan, Eystein picked himself up off the ground.
"Well done friend." Alric said, walking over to the stunned marshal. "Without you these bastards would have gotten away. They assaulted the Jarl, would have killed him but for servant walking in on their assault. He managed to strike the big one in the head, before he was broken by the assassin. But the delay was enough to give us time to come. They ran, looks like they killed Dag on their way out of the hall. Any idea who they are?"
Eystein looked down at the bloodied corpse of Ivan, the two axes, the big man was a mess of cuts and slashes. His blood had stopped flowing now, and as the rain picked up it washed away into the dirty grass outside.
"No friend, I've never seen them before."
~~~--0--~~~
August brought out the fires in the larger halls, especially when Magnus was having one of his fits. And lately the Prince's severe coughs had been worse than ever. Rumors said the Prince had taken to holding court from his bed to avoid having to sit up. Even more rumors swirled around the presence of the Prince's lady wife, Efrosinia Vladimirovina. It was Efrosinia that Jarl Finn now went to see. She had set up her own private court in a small, recently built hall just outside the small wooden palisade set up around the main halls. And so, with a resigned sigh, Finn trudged through the mud and rain out to the small hall upon the hill. Two of the Princess' Russian bodyguards escorted him, he would have rather come alone.
As they made their way up to the hall, Finn couldn't help but notice that camped outside, under a dirty leaky lean-to were the personal guards of the other nobles. Their curses and grumbles cooled to a whisper as the Russians made their way past. Finn gave a curt nod as he worked his way up towards the door, which swung open slowly as he reached it. The warmth from the well lit hall poured over Finn, who shed his cloak and tossed it to the nearest Russian with a smirk. The guard frowned but took the cloak nonetheless, it would not be politically astute to insult the most battle-tested of the Prince's allies.
"Ah, Jarl Finn, good we are all arrived." Called the voice of Ottar Stufson, the Prince's marshal. Since the Prince's defeat in Lappland Ottar had been relatively quiet in court, but in the last few days his name had begun resurfacing in conversations. It appeared he had made friends with the Princess and her Russian cohort. "Why, if I may ask, were you so late in answering the Prince's summons?"
"You may not ask." Finn said, enjoying in silence the startled stammering response Ottar summoned at the rebuke. For all his bluster, Ottar was a weakling. Finn knew well enough that in a conflict between the two of them, Ottar would not come out on top. The fact that Ottar knew this as well provided just a little bit of pleasure to the Christian Jarl of Herjedalen. Finn had few vices, but pride was one.
“Please sit down Finn.” At the behest of Orm Eilifsson, Finn took his seat in silence.
“My lords. Thank you for attending.” Efrosinia said with a smile. She had taken to her new language well, and only rarely needed to rely on her translator. The grim looking old priest who knew enough of both languages to have a use merely slumped silently in the corner, taking in what warmth he could from the fire. He was probably drunk, something Finn could only roll his eyes at, such piety…
“Why have we been summoned?” Broddi Frodison called out from his seat down the line. As a lesser noble his position in the hall was further from the Princess than Jarls’. And so, over the din of men quietly talking, Broddi was forced to shout. At the noise Efrosinia’s smile vanished and she flashed an angry glare at the young man.
“My nobles please, be silent. We are here to discuss the fruits of your Prince’s labor. Rewards to the families loyal to his cause.” At that the talking ended and the men of the hall leaned in to hear. Finn looked to Orm Eilifsson, the older Jarl looked worried and confused. He clearly hadn’t expected Efrosinia to be handing out gifts in the name of the Prince.
“What rewards?” Came another call from down the table. The lesser nobles were always eager to pick up the scraps from the death of bigger and better men.
“The lands of the Jarl of Giske, Skofte Ogmundson, recently murdered by a traitor in his home.” Efrosinia replied. The recently silenced room exploded into conversation as the news broke. Skofte was dead? And murdered no less. It was painfully obvious to Jarl Finn that this was no normal murder.
“Who would commit such a heinous act?” Orm asked when the room settled back down. Finn was curious as to what lie the Prince’s men had concocted. It was Magnus Finne who responded first.
“Two foreigners, Danes. The snuck into the Jarl’s home at night. Both men were killed by my brother trying to escape. We believe they were hired by Hakon Galle, the King’s Danish lap dog.”
“Then let us arm ourselves and avenge our fallen brother!” Shouted Broddi again, banging his mug up and down on the table to encourage support.
“Please, my friends. I know, we do not wish to allow the Jarl’s death to be unanswered but we must act with caution. First, the Jarl’s lands must be protected. We cannot let the lands fall into disorder. That is why you have all been called this evening.” At this, Efrosinia began dolling out land and families to the assembled nobles. The greatest prize was handed to Magnus Finne, who was named a Jarl of Halogoland. His land amounted to almost a third of the entire territory of the Prince. The awards were celebrated by rousing cheers by those who received them, and angry stares from those who didn’t. Jarl Finn paid close attention to those who were spurned. Many of them had been those who had marched north to fight the Lapps. They were the doubters, the men who had questioned the Prince, and now they were denied.
~~~--0--~~~
“Welcome my nobles.” The Jarl said, his voice as much a groan as a command. The cut across his chest was still bright red through the bandages. The assassins had done their best to make the wound fatal, but the quick action of the servant had saved the Jarl. Now, in the dark and dank of a small chamber, the Jarl held court. After the assault, Skofte had sent out riders proclaiming his death. The move had surprised Eystein and the other warriors in Skofte’s ranks, but they had gone along with the lie.
“Jarl Skofte, tell me, what is going on?” Eystein asked, taking a seat at the small table. The other nobles nodded hellos and eagerly waited for the Jarl to respond. He only gave a short smile and motioned to the guard at the door. The man left the room in silence. For a few moments everyone waited, no one willing to break the quiet. Then the guard returned, dragging Kobach behind him. The small Russian man was bruised and battered, and was missing his left hand.
“There. We are all arrived. Guards?” The men at the door turned and bolted the small wooden entrance shut. “Good. Thank you. Now, we have things to discuss. As you know, the attack on my life has failed. This rat before you is the man who led the assault. And now you all will witness what his punishment is.” With a wave the Jarl signaled the nearest guard. The man quickly drew his sword and plunged it into the cursing Russian’s back. With a scream the man fell to the ground, he did not die immediately, much to the Jarl’s enjoyment.
“Now…” The guards stepped back and began to move around the table. “Eirik. As Steward of my hall you were responsible for those who served in it. These men worked in my hall.” The Jarl’s voice began to crack. His blood-shot eyes went wide and his guards closed in on the shocked steward.
“But… my lord?” Eirik said, starting to stand. But the nearest guard moved first, burying his axe into the stunned man’s chest. He collapsed backwards in a pile, dead by the time he hit the ground. The rest of the nobles looked around in shock.
“Thus is the fate of those who oppose me… now be gone. All of you, none of you will speak of this. Remember. This is what awaits those who betray me.” The stunned men quickly began to file out of the room, but as Eystein rose to leave the Jarl stopped him.
“Come back, please be seated.” The Guards followed the other nobles out of the room and left Eystein alone with the Jarl and the two corpses. “Do you know why I let the world think I was dead?”
Eystein eyed his Jarl with a weary gaze, he would play along if only for his own safety. “No my lord, I do not know.”
“It is to fool your brother and his allies up north. They are the ones who sent these assassins. I know it. They paid Eirik to turn a blind eye to these men in my stables, men you ordered placed there. I know it was you and your brother and Eirik. I have killed Eirik, and your brother will answer for his part soon enough. But you are a different story. I could have you killed right now you know. A shout and it all ends. I’ve kept you as a prisoner for all this time you know? That is why you were given a home here, to keep you as a safe guard. The King thought we should just send you off to die somewhere. But no, I knew you had better uses.”
The Jarl paused, as if waiting for Eystein to respond. He didn’t know what to say. So the Jarl just laughed, certain of his own victory. “Now they believe I am dead. They will send men, and when they come they will be turned against the Prince. His lies and deceit will be uncovered. I will end Magnus, and you will be the tool I use to do it with. How heartbroken he will be to see his best friend dead, his comrade in arms a slave and his lover married off to his brother. I will delight in that pain… and then you will die a very, very slow death.” The Jarl leaned forward, his pale face a mere inches from the marshal.
“How does it feel to be completely powerless?” He said with a laugh. Eystein could take no more. His hand shot out, clutching the Jarl by the throat. The wounded man tried to cry out, but the hand was too tight. He gasped and fell backwards, but Eysten was on top of him, pressing his knee into the bandaged wound. The blood began to pour from the open wound and mixed with that of the two slain assassins. Skofte tried to claw at Eystein’s face, but his wound was too severe, his arms too weak. It only took a few moments for the loss of blood and air to cause the Jarl to pass out, and then it was a simple matter of loosening the bandages and letting the man die.
Will the next update come fast? If not, I will read this update slowly to enjoy the story more.
The fighting scene is cool, I like it.
The fighting scene is cool, I like it.
Oi, this narrative is brilliant!
Go assasins, go!
And what long term political tensions might this event cause?
Go assasins, go!
And what long term political tensions might this event cause?
Brainsucker said:
Thanks, update should be done by Friday.
Enewald: Fun ones no doubt
Tunsberg, May 1079
Arnor Surtrson was getting old, very old. For the last ten years he had served King Olaf Haraldson as an advisor and councilor. In those ten years, he had been allowed home just once. But now, Arnor was going home for the final time. The King had new men around him, young men with young ideas. Already plans to expand east into the collapsing Swedish Kingdom were coming into their own. Arnor had done all he could in his decade of service, his only regret was that he never ended the bitter feud between the brothers. The enmity between Olaf and Magnus was ever present in the court at Tunsberg. Every move the King made, he made with the weight of his brother’s hatred on his shoulders. Arnor and the others had been there to help him when they could, and for that they were being rewarded.
Olaf, seeking to expand royal power, had slowly begun moving his chief nobles North East to a new city nestled between the Seven Mountains. The city of Bergvin was founded by Olaf nine years earlier, as a place for him to retreat from the rigors of the court at Tunsberg. But as the king grew more and more suspicious of his brother Magnus, the court began moving with him. The importance of Bergvin of course was that it was within striking range of the Red Ravens and Ubbe Bragde. Those once-mercenary soldiers were now fiercely loyal to their patriarch, and had served as counter-raiders and pirates. As their skill and fame grew, so to did their numbers. Before long, many had moved to Bergvin to serve as Olaf’s personal guard.
But Arnor had no desire to follow the other men to their grand new homes in Bergvin. He was heading home, where his nephews now ruled and were holding for him a seat by the ocean to live out his last days in peace. Still, his duty would be unfinished if he left without seeing the child, the true Prince of Norway. Ragna Finne did not survive the birthing, but her son survived, at least thus far. Harald Olafson had brought rousing cheers to all the loyal men of Olaf’s court, and worried glances by those who knew what it meant. Prince Magnus now had a claimant to deal with, and with the arrival of a son and the death of the woman he wanted, the older brother could become even more dangerous. Arnor had preached patience, especially in light of the assassination of Jarl Skofte.
“Patience is for women and priests, not Kings.” Had been Olaf’s response, so much like his father. He was always eager to lead the way on all his grand adventures. When a minor noble on the Swedish border had been caught raiding his neighbor’s farm, Olaf personally rode out to bring him to justice. It was a most heroic of faults. But almost everything Olaf did, he did with a plan in mind. That plan was war with Sweden. The warriors of Tunsberg, and elsewhere Arnor imagined, had begun calling their King Modig, “the brave”. It was a moniker which suited Olaf well, but not one he embraced.
“Well Arnor, I for one am sad to see you go.” Skuli Goodwineson said, patting the older man on the back with a smile. “You were always wise council to the King. The voice of moderation will surely be missed.”
“Well Skuli, you could always council the King to hold back, he trusts you.” Arnor said as he slowly walked down the path towards his waiting horse. The king was sending him out with an escort, more in concern for his age than his safety, and them men were shuffling around aimlessly waiting for the old man to finally make it out of the town.
“That he does Arnor, but no. I am the king’s marshal, I can not be the one to temper him. I am his hammer, not his shield. Hopefully the young man who served as your clerk can follow the path you laid out.” Skuli took Arnor hand as they stepped over a rut in the road. These long walks were becoming more and more difficult with each day.
“I do not know. He seems enamored with the King. You cannot council a man you see as a hero. Hopefully that is just his youth, otherwise I fear that no one will stand up to him when he wants to go off on some adventure.” Arnor’s mind had been drifting back to his own adventure with a different king, those bloody days in England when Harald fell to Godwinson. He hoped for Olaf’s sake the same fate did not befall the son as the father.
“Well Arnor, we have arrived. It is a dark day to see you go. God be with you.” Skuli said, helping the old man up on his horse. With a polite nod, Arnor began to ride away, back home, to die.
~~~--0--~~~
Just to let everyone know, this isn't abandoned, just on long term hold. All the files from this (and my other) AAR is located on my laptop. Unfortunately my laptop currently has no power and no power cord. I need a real job before I can fix the power cord, which means I wont have it fixed for at least 2 months.
Luckily I can still play CK on another computer, but I don't have any of my files from this game
Luckily I can still play CK on another computer, but I don't have any of my files from this game