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Eagles of the Steppe - A Kievan Rus AAR

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I decided not to write yesterday for lack of inspiration, and boy am I glad I did. With a dearth of boring activities on my hands today, I managed to devote most of my time to thinking of how to best write the coming updates, and managed to think up a plot-arc that I think you will all quite enjoy as soon as I get around to writing it. :)
 
Chapter One: "Cidum"​
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Synopsis:


The duchy of Polotsk is in the midst of war, finally striking out against the pagan barbarians that have raided their lands for so long. While the Duke and Prince of Polotsk, Vseslav Briachislavovich Rurik, rides to war, he remains apparently oblivious of the plots and intrigues taking place amongst his subordinates and heirs. His court has become neatly divided between those who support his second son, Roman Vseslavovich, and those who support his eldest and rightful heir, Gleb Vseslavovich, as the future Prince of Polotsk.

Roman is a boy who lives in the shadows, having been raised and educated by the court spymaster, Yaropolk, in the ways of the spider. He considers himself to be far more gifted and apt than Gleb, who for much of his early life was considered to be stupid, but is just now proving his skills in numbers and stewardship, and his belief may be true, as it will take a man gifted in intrigue to carve out a niche in the Rurikovich-dominated Rus'.

In the past two years, this division in the court has become even deeper. This deepening of the ravine can be laid at the feet of Yaropolk, who seeks to gain personal power through his manipulations of Roman and the court. He has become the political 'champion' of Roman in the vicious arena that is feudal politics, and on Roman's behalf has made many allies; Duchess Sophia, wife to Vseslav himself, and mother of his five children; Bishop Vseslav of Maladzyechna, chaplain of the court; as well as many other, less prominent courtiers, merchants and smallfolk. In an attempt to preserve Gleb, who is seen as the rightful heir, the young Bishop Trifon, a personal friend of Prince Vseslav, has taken it upon himself to build a rival network of contacts, friends and spies, to counter Yaropolk's plotting. He, however, has no idea of the true extent of Yaropolk's corruption.

Vseslav, too, has his own plots to achieve. Feeling his old age, he still wishes to create a legacy that will be passed onto his sons. For this reason, he has begun a campaign of conquest, desperate to gain more lands for the Principality, so as to compete with the far richer Rus' princes to the east. He is ambitious, and a strong warlord, with aims to help restore the Rus' to its former, more unified glory, a task that will be difficult to achieve, considering his status as a pariah amongst his dynastic brethren, and a personal feud with the current Grand Prince of Kiev, a strutting weakling by the name of Iziaslav Yaraslavovich.

The war upon the pagan tribes of Tartu progresses poorly, with a narrow victory over the major pagan army on the banks of the Dvina followed by a long, hard march through hostile territory, culminating in a siege upon the castle of Fellin. The mercenaries hired by Vseslav on his visit to Kiev to entreat Iziaslav for his aid in Vseslav's campaign upon the pagans, the Bulgarian Band, have been sabotaged by spies and treachery, only recently discovered, and the person behind this sabotage remains unknown... although some suspect Yaropolk, the court spymaster, of being the man behind it, attempting to speed up the demise of Vseslav after the failure of several of his plots; such as the attempt to influence Vseslav in the creation of another Duchy, that would be granted to Roman upon Vseslav's death as per the rules of gavelkind succession.

Currently, Trifon reigns as steward over the duchy and city of Polotsk in Vseslav's absence, taking the opportunity to pursue his enmity against Yaropolk, while Yaropolk plots to marry Gleb to an ineffectual and politically-useless bride, in an attempt to weaken his position. Vseslav's position, without the long-awaited reinforcements that now have a four-month journey ahead of them to join up with his forces, is precarious... and possibly deadly. Events appear to be coming to a head, and Yaropolk will do anything he can to hasten matters along...​
 
Tomorrow, I shall have the time to write up the next update. There will be blood, treachery and deceit, and maybe... just maybe, some Cain and Abel-esque fratricide.

:)

P.S: I would write it today, and in fact I should have written it days ago (I had the time, I'm really sorry guys), but I don't think you want to see what happens to my writing with only four hours of sleep on top of a slightly rough night :)
 
trifon.jpg

Trifon bowed his head over the desk and breathed a sigh of relief.

His murder of captain Petr on the ford of the Dvina had been troubling him more and more lately. After the battle, he had barely slept because of the nightmares, Petr’s scream as he plunged the dagger in haunting him through even his waking hours. At first, he had believed that Petr was working on Yaropolk’s behalf, trying to prevent Vseslav from being reinforced, or from making it over the ford to the relative safety of the earthwork fortifications beyond.

After the battle, Trifon had begun to have his doubts. It had crippled him mentally, as he ran in his head over and over again what had happened that day, what had been said, how Petr had behaved. The journey back to Polotsk had been a brief distraction, but as the journey had dragged on, he had found his mind returning to the topic, dwelling more and more on it as his mood on the journey passed from excitement to boredom.

When he finally arrived at Polotsk, along with the other actions to counter Yaropolk, he had set his agents to discovering captain Petr’s true allegiance, and so, finally, they had brought closure to the whole mess, in the form of a long report concluding that Petr was a wholehearted supporter of Yaropolk and Roman… at least, as wholehearted as the gifts of gold and silver awarded him could make him.

Scraping his chair back along the floor away from the desk, Trifon sat back, sinking into the polished wood supporting his back, and closed his eyes. He was so tired, every moment an agony as he struggled to stay awake. He had been pushing himself too hard, and he could feel the strain it was putting on his small frame, but he had no other option. Everywhere he turned he found agents of Yaropolk that he had never known existed, men and women who he had once trusted turned out to be in the employ of Yaropolk or one of his agents, or one of his agents’ agents. The whole affair was a twisted mess, and put to shame his own primitive network, which he had once so strongly believed rivaled Yaropolk’s. And the damned spider seemed to be expanding his network, sending his webs sprawling out into the rest of the Rus and even among the pagan Lithuanian tribes. It was becoming hard for Trifon to trust anyone.

Every move Trifon made, Yaropolk seemed to adroitly avoid. The search through this warren they called a castle had discovered countless hidden tunnels, which Trifon had ordered mapped, but no sign had been found of Yaropolk’s hidden chambers, and Trifon deeply suspected that there were even more tunnels that had not been discovered. If he had thought he could get away with it, he would have ordered very corridor in the damnable place excavated.

To make matters worse, there had been no word from Vseslav for weeks. With the mercenary reinforcements now on their way, Trifon had dared to hope that the invasion would continue easily, but since the letter saying that the army had finally laid siege to Fellin, not a single word had been sent to Polotsk, despite the multitudes of pigeons which they had taken with them.

With a heaving sigh, Trifon got to his feet. His study seemed so cramped lately, so claustrophobic. When he had first seen it, he had thought it was huge, and it had indeed been far bigger than his quarters at the chapel in Braslaw. Polished black ash floorboards and smooth stone walls coupled with luxurious rugs and tapestries, the room had been a gift from Vseslav, and part of the reason to move Trifon to court, after they had become friends at Braslaw during Vseslav’s tour of the duchy seven years ago.

Now, the room just reminded Trifon of the risks Vseslav was taking to ensure a great and strong realm was passed down to Gleb on his death. It was for the sake of their friendship that Trifon did everything he did, but sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder whether everything he was doing was simply in vain.

Picking up the report, he shuffled it into a neat bundle and moved it into a large cabinet filled with the rest of his reports, then shut the cabinet door and locked it with a thick key. The cabinet was made from thick ash-wood, and the lock was complicated mass of tumblers, springs and thick bars, making it impossible to break into without damaging the cabinet itself.

Only then did he make his way to the door and unlock it, slipping out into the bedroom beyond, and then close and lock the door firmly behind him. This room had been the first he had had checked for secret tunnels, and they had surprisingly encountered none, so Trifon assumed it was safe. To reach it, one would have to walk through his bedroom, past the guards Trifon had posted outside, and no one was allowed in or out without permit from him or Gleb. This didn’t safeguard against corruption and human fallibility, of course, but it was the best Trifon could do to make sure his rooms were secure.

Outside, yet another storm was raging. After a dismal summer and autumn, winter had sprung upon them fast and hard, with the first blizzard springing up days before anyone had expected to see even hints of fresh snow. After that blizzard had finally died down, a brief calm had appeared, and most of the minor nobility that had been visiting in Polotsk had used the opportunity to quickly return to their own manors and keeps, leaving the castle feeling half-empty and desolate. The traditional New Year’s feast had been canceled on Trifon’s express order, an order which the rather bored Gleb had disliked greatly, and a great deal of the cooking and cleaning staff had been dismissed for the winter months. Only Trifon and Yaropolk knew that those staff that had been dismissed were Yaropolk’s agents, but as far as Trifon knew it was not all of them. In fact, he sincerely doubted he had removed all of Yaropolk’s spies, and suspected many of the nobility that had lingered at the castle of being in the employ of Yaropolk.

Trifon rubbed his temples with the tips of his fingers, fighting off yet another headache. He had to stop worrying about these things…

Shaking his head briskly to clear his thoughts, he opened the bedroom door and stepped out into the corridor. With a sharp nod to the guards as they swiftly jumped to attention, he set off down the hallway towards Gleb’s suite. As the nominal head of the household, Gleb had to be, at the least, informed of the decisions Trifon was making. It was common courtesy, and Trifon did not want to alienate Gleb, who had been none too happy about having his authority stripped from him by Trifon, of all people. Despite Vseslav's trust in him, Gleb had never been able to bring himself to like Trifon.

In truth, Trifon mused to himself as he tried to hurry down the hallway, Gleb had not been doing too badly as steward of the household before Trifon arrived. Still, he had no innovativeness, and no talent for anything beyond money and the management of the household, and most certainly lacked the qualities needed for him to guide the duchy through its current internal strife. Yet, Trifon thought he would make a good ruler for the Duchy, when the time came.

He was so deep in thought that he didn’t see or hear the messenger until he was almost on top of him, sucking in breath after an obviously long run.

“Sir, sir!” he panted, his face red with exertion, “a message… from the… Duke!”

He extended his hand, proffering a small, rolled piece of parchment, sealed with the miniaturized stamp used by Vseslav for messages carried by pigeon.

In hushed excitement, Trifon frantically snatched the message out of his hands and motioned him away impatiently. When the messenger was out of sight, he cracked the seal open and unraveled the parchment, peering at the message contained within. As his eyes frantically scanned the lines, his face visibly paled.

*******​

“You know what this means, don’t you, Roman?” muttered Yaropolk in Roman’s ear as they hurried out of the council chamber. The convening of the remaining members of the council had continued well into the night, and Roman could feel the weight of exhaustion bearing down upon him, but at the moment it was kept at bay by a strange mixture of excitement, trepidation and grief that the news brought to their ears by Trifon had created.

Gritting his teeth, Roman hissed out an answer, “No, Yaropolk, I do not know what this means. I need some time… some time to think…”

“Foolish boy!” hissed Yaropolk in response. Tightening his grip on Roman’s arm, he led him forcefully into a side corridor, hung with old, moth-eaten tapestries and filled with dust, “this is our chance, don’t you see?!”

“No, Yaropolk, I do not. We don’t even know what that message means!” Roman spat in affront.

“Don’t lie to me, boy. You and I both know what that message likely means. Soon, there may be a new Prince of Polotsk, and unless we act soon, it will not be you.”
 
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Vseslav fell in battle, perhaps? Or some other surprising turn of events, I'm sure. Nice to see how hard Trifon works to keep Polotsk together, I wonder how that will work out for him in the end...
 
First of all, great AAR. I'm in the middle of reading it, and took a break to comment.

I like the miscellaneous details (ie info about the Dvina river, the city of Kiev, etc). I won't repeat what others have already said, but this is my first post on this forum after four paradox games. I'm looking forward to reading more of the excellent story, and I hope you're continuing!
 
nolin9889 said:
First of all, great AAR. I'm in the middle of reading it, and took a break to comment.

I like the miscellaneous details (ie info about the Dvina river, the city of Kiev, etc). I won't repeat what others have already said, but this is my first post on this forum after four paradox games. I'm looking forward to reading more of the excellent story, and I hope you're continuing!
Click to expand...

Oh god, somebody commented...

Ahem, I only have my notes to go off as my CK2 updated to the latest version which probably doesn't load the save, but I did have something like five pages of notes left. So, I guess I have nothing to lose by continuing. The story was beginning to break down, as it so often does for me when writing a lengthy piece (in this case, 20k words, so my "upper limit" is rising), but after a break I can probably go back to writing it with a fresh mind. We'll see once I've re-acquainted myself with it :)
 
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