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Valdemar

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Dec 4, 2001
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  • Hearts of Iron II: Beta
The story begins......


Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there was a small Empire led by an old family of Emperors. The once great nation was surround by the evil from the south and east, left by the traitors of the north and abandoned and estranged from its former friends in the west. A noble King ruled it, but he was troubled at the threat of war.

This is how the story would begin in the countries far to the north where we once came from, or so I’m told. They would then continue through trial upon trial until in the end the evil was destroyed, the Prince got the Princess and they all lived happily ever after.

I don’t think this will be happening to us, we live in interesting times.

My name is Svend and I am the current Captain of the Imperial Guard. This is my personal diary in which I recount the events in my life. I am a Væring or perhaps I should say that that is what we call ourselves. Uncounted generations in the Imperial service have left its impressions and I am no longer what my forefathers were.

A Væring are the northern warriors that once came after the wars in England and offered their service to the Emperor Basilios II Bulgaroktonos as his bodyguard, considered fearful and loyal warriors he accepted.

It is told that my father’s great-grandfather still spoke the old language, but nothing is now left but a few remains that we still use among ourselves and as command language, giving us a slight edge and an aura of mysticism that comes from giving commands nobody can understand.
The warriors didn’t bring their women and generations of taking local women as wives has blended our blood and even though we still try to keep our community tight and our sons marry their friends’ sisters we have in many ways become Greek. I shiver at the thought of snow and I’m told that our northern origin has frost and snow in the winter.

My father like me was Captain of the Guard and our family has been Officers of the Guard for as long as anyone cares to remember, but my uncle left to become a merchant and I fear my son will not follow me into the Guard. I cannot in honesty blame him, with the prospect of war and Empire dwindling and reduced to its present state, but I would have liked him to honor tradition. I have other sons off course, perhaps there I can find a soldier, but the firstborn is always special.

The Guard has changed too during the countless generations. We are still soldiers first and foremost, but we have become more and more involved in the administration of the Empire. As the land has dwindled the administration has moved from the local landowners to taxation of merchants and artisans in the city. I can live with the administrative duty, but I loathe the ceremonial duty, the city has become more and more focused on itself and the ceremonial part is taking up valuable time. Time that should be spending training, building and hiring for the upcoming war, because war is coming of that I’m certain.
 
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A Valdemar AAR? About the Varangian Guard? :eek: :)

Excellent! There was a tradition for Northerners to travel down there and serve for a few years.

This will be followed, my Svend... uhm... friend! :)
 
OOC

Well it is finally here, my attempt at an AAR.

The game is off course Byzantium, what else could it be :D

A few things to note, this will only be updated sparingly, whenever I can find the time. I haven't even started the game yet so it will take a while before the next development.

I intend this to be character driven (It's seems the fashionable thing to do these days :p ) and will ususlally only write a few generation and skip ahead in the timeline. Those few generations though I intend to make very intense, perhaps the AAR will never go beyond the first 100 years ore the first two generations.

I will hopefully over time convince some guestwirters to take on supporting charactres, creating a slight interaction to this thread.

That's all for now I think, enjoy

V
 
Good luck Valdemar! Byzantium is always fun to play and I'm looking forward to reading the accounts of Svend and his descendents. ;)

Joe
 
What an excellent choice, Vald. The Varangian Guard. How cool is that? :cool: Great start, good luck with it. BTW, a certain Alv would be much to small to join... ;)
 
Storey, Director Thanks :) I'll do my best albeit slowly.

LD, thanks to you too, Alv may be a bit short for a beserker, but we'll see, we can always use an errand runner :D

Actually this reminds me of something I thought about last night.

I would like to take the chance to thank you LD, without your inspiration this wouldn't have been started at all. Not only have you created a forum that makes this possible and have given me many great on-line friends, but you have also inspired me directly through the FC.

Without the FC I would never have left the shadows of a lurker and tried out as a writer and without the current FC I would never have found the inspiration for this AAR (Why else should I choose Constantinople as a setting? :) )

V
 
Chapter one, part I

The man was walking briskly down the main street of the city. Despite the cluttered street people made way for him, the purple markings on his tunica and cape announcing his connection to the Imperial household.

Even without that tell tale sign, people would have gotten out of his way. Regardless of his small and Mediterranean stature nobody would take him for a local Greek, the shock of blond hair, oddly contrasting his sunburned skin and the deep blue eyes placed him solidly in the Imperial Guard as one of the original northern warriors.

However none of this registered at the citizens as he passed through the street, he was too well known as the Captain of the Guard and as such wielding enormous power and influence with the Emperor. It was nonetheless respect rather than fear that made the good citizens jump out of his way, the Captain was known as stern but fair and honest man and many of the locals considered him their friend at the palace.

On his way through the city the Captain was greeted by a high number of people and he nodded absentmindedly to some, but not to all, those thus rejected did not take offence, but smiled forgivingly at his back, knowing that no ill will was intended.

He had left his palatial house in response to an urgent message from the palace and was hastening there to fulfill his duty, wondering all the same about the urgency. The time was barely past midday and he had just finished his meal after returning from the daily council meeting this morning.

Svend shook his head in disgust, meetings, nothing but meetings, he had hoped that he could spend a few ours in his garden this afternoon along with his family. His oldest son was visiting for the first time since his marriage and he still hoped to persuade him into choosing a career with the army, rather than his father in laws merchant business.

Not that he didn’t like his extended family, the girl was nice, her parents both honorable and pleasant, a rare combination in the merchant community, but he would have liked to talk to his son before the big step was taken. So far all he had been able to was to convince the young man to live with his wife in a small apartment and not take up residence with the merchants until all was decided. Well at least there was a chance of grandchildren now, not a bad prospect; he had to admit that much to himself.

The Captain smiled to him self, grandchildren that would be a new experience; he didn’t feel that old, his own youngest barely ten and the newly wed son just past twenty. He shook his head ruefully he was sure that his wife would approve of grandchildren though.

He forced his thoughts back to the business at hand, this summoning of the council. He couldn’t fathom what could be the cause, only this morning he had failed to bring the meeting to a decision and once again the council had ended inconclusively. Svend listed the know situation of the Empire in his head as he continued through the main gates of the palace, saluting the guards as he passed.

The Empire is hard pressed from all sides with what could only be described as a tenuous grip on two provinces and the Ottomans roaming almost freely on their way to and from their eastern provinces. The rebellious province of Athens a thorn in the side and nothing but the small fiefdom of Trebizond as allies. He had urged the council to see the danger, to increase the army, strike at Athens at least and the Ottomans at best before the world collapsed around them. He had predicted that the Khan would come for the last fertile lands as soon as he had solidified his claims on the throne. All he could persuade them too was another fool’s errand to the west and beg for help.

He shook his head again and braced him self for another predictable meeting with no conclusion, the whole thing was probably caused by some minor official in Albania that had farted at a dinner of some Byzantine merchant. As he reached the doors of the council chamber he stopped took a deep breath, straightened his Tunic and cape and entered.
 
His oldest son was visiting for the first time since his marriage and he still hoped to persuade him into choosing a career with the army, rather than his father in laws merchant business.

So Fredrik Hviid won't show up? ;)

Very nice, Valdemar. :) I'm looking forward to the rest.
 
*heavy sigh*

I suppose I actually have to read this one don't I. Ahh well, not too shabby so far ;), I always enjoy Byzantine AAR's, they seem somehow more....alternately historical of you'll follow me on the twisting of the language.

RJ
 
Jarl, Norg, thanks :)

Rath, thanks too, I think ;) You're just full of envy 'cause I got started before you :p If you don't behave I'll draft a certain mercenary to my army and have him send on one impossible mission after another :D

V
 
Wow. With such a level of detail, this AAR may end up truly deserving its title. But who cares so long as the AAR is well written and interesting? Not I.

Keep it coming. :)
 
Chapter One, Part II

Svend entered the Council chamber and slowly made his way to his regular seat on the table, nodding a few greetings on the way. His official role at these meetings was that of a minor official and advisor and as Captain of the guard commanding no more than a thousand men at the most he wielded little official power, however his influence outside the camber was not considered trivial and he was believed to have the Emperors ear in most matters.

It was a delicate balance between official authority and perceived power and influence, but years of experience had taught the Captain to bide his time and not volunteer his opinion too openly at the council meetings. His stand on most matters was however known to all the important members.

He quietly sat down in chair at the low end of the table and braced himself for another futile meeting, looking around he tried to gauge the faces of those that had arrived to see if he could find out what the agenda would be, thereby preparing himself.

The Emperor, Manuel II, off course hadn’t arrived yet, but Svend tried to figure out which of his administrators was present, so far without much luck. He had identified both military and administrative clerks, as well as quite a few minor clerics.

On further inspection, there are actually quite a lot of clerics. Perhaps that is the issue? Something happened in the church?

Svend shrugged, he isn’t very devout, believing more in the ability and motives of men when it comes to worldly matters, but he is acutely aware of the influence and power of both his mother church and it’s sister in Rome. Besides, the church is run by men, no matter how religious they appear, they are still men, men with ambitions.

The other council members start to arrive, one by one, the minor ones first. A few of the remaining Strategos arrive, they have no voice on the council, but are usual present as advisors on military matters and that causes Svend to frown, as far as he knows nothing knew has happened in a long time on that front. He looks over to one of them, Alexios, a long time friend, and raises an eyebrow quizzically, but his friend only shrugs and shakes his head.
Svend sighs and resigns to his fate, there is nothing to do then, other than sit through the thing and hopefully it will be over soon.

His mind starts to wander again, back to his extended family and to his wayward son.

How do I convince him to try out the military? I will not let money be the issue, if need be, I’m sure his father-in-law and I can find a way to finance his officers commission. The old merchant understands my need for the boy to join the ranks, even if he prefers a son-in-law to carry on the business.

Alexios drifted by on his way to his seat by the wall, Svend let the thought drift and rose to greet his friend.

“So, you were able to tear yourself away from the training fields and your horses to join us on this fine day?”

The younger man smiled, “and you were able to leave your family?”

Svend raised the eyebrow again; “I went by your house on the way, your wife told me you had left already, perhaps we can leave here together, there are a few things I would like to discuss with you.”

“Certainly, care to enlighten me now?”

“No, no, not here, do you know why we have been summoned?”

“No idea, we’ll find out soon enough.” Something he cannot discuss here? His father is a prominent former general, a retired commander of the eastern armies, before the fall of the last holdings there, there couldn’t be that many things he couldn’t discuss openly with the Captain of the Guard.

Just then the real council members began to arrive and Alexios bid a hasty farewell and found his seat. The first to arrive was Dimitrios a local bishop, representing the Patriarch on the council, giving the head of the church an artificial distance to the mundane matters of the Empire. Svend despised the man, but fortunately the Patriarch still made most decision him self and quite frequently attended the council in person though with his increasing age that could easily change.

As Dimitrios seated him self near the head of the table, one seat down from the Emperors seat at end of the table. In order to avoid looking at the man Svend averted his eyes and studiously looked at the Council Chamber itself. It never failed to amaze him how beautiful and well proportioned it was. The chamber was slightly oval, with a high domed ceiling and small alcoves displaying busts of past Emperors along the wall. In the center of the room was a long oblong table, wide in the middle, narrow in the end, allowing for who ever sat at the end to see all seated at the table. All along the way, between the alcoves were small, upholstered benches where the advisors and clerks of the council and its members were seated.

The Captain had just finished his survey of the room, when his own adjutant slipped up behind his right shoulder.

“Ulf, I was just wondering were you where.” The Captain didn’t even turn his head, Ulf smiled.

“I thought I’d see if I could find out what the urgency was all about.”

“Well, did you?” Svend smiled to him self; Ulf wouldn’t sneak up on him like that if he hadn’t.

“Let’s just say that our illustrious diplomatic corps was taken by surprise by events and that said event got the Patriarch’s attention.”

A sudden commotion at the entrance announced that the rest of the council was approaching and Ulf hastily found his seat behind his Captain. In a flurry of aides and minor officers came the two of the three remaining senior officers of the Empire, the General of the City defenses and the Military commander of Thrace, the last absent senior officer being the military commander of Morea. The two officers seated themselves on the two empty seats closest to the head of the table, their second in commands filling the empty places between their superiors and Svend, leaving only room for the absent theater commander.

The empty seats opposite Svend and beneath Dimitrios began filling up with various officials in charge of all sorts of administrative details required to run a major city as well as a minor Empire. Their choice of seats and the distance to head of the table was an intricate dance showing who was in favor this month and who wasn’t. Svend hid a smile behind his hand; he had his seat near the opposite end of table, originally because of his low official status, but over the years as his influence increased, he deliberately kept his seat until he almost became a second pole on the table counterweighing the Emperors place.

In the end only five seats remained empty, that of the absent military commander and his second in command and the Emperor’s and his chief advisor’s. In other societies this would be a chancellor, but here in the grand Empire he was but a mere advisor. And finally the seat of the chief of foreign affairs stood empty, the head of the diplomatic services and couriers among other things.

It looked like Ulf was right; the diplomats had either scored a coup or failed miserably.

With another flourish of aids and the sound of chairs scraping the floor as everybody rose, the Emperor himself entered, with his chancellor and the foreign affairs advisor in tow. Much to Svend’s surprise the Patriarch himself was there as well and the Captain stole a quick glance at Dimitrios, the bishop looked incensed, he hadn’t known and now there where no available seats, except for the vacant ones belonging to the military and they wouldn’t give them up for the bishop. Dignified the cleric drew his clothes together, bowed deeply for the Patriarch and retreated to the nearby bench.

The Emperor seated himself and gestured everybody to sit. The council could begin.
 
Excellent, excellent, excellent!

I'm really glad that you've decided to try your hand at going solo. Take your time, keep paying attention to detail, and continue to write the way you're doing now and you'll have a fantastic piece in the end. You've certainly begun it most wonderfully. :)