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Kuipy

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900 yeAARs of AARs
A CKDV-EU3:IN-Ricky-HoI? multiplayer megacampaign
Episode 2 : Europa Universalis III, In Nomine 3.2b
(previous episode - next episode)
(game thread)
(an other timeline)




Here comes the second episode of the (hopefully) collaborative AAR of our ongoing Megacampaign. Some purple prose from the game thread :

Europe in 1399.

It is a time of change and danger. The era of crusader kings is at en end. Power shifts, sailors bring strange tales from their journeys, new weapons transform warfare. For over two centuries the Kings of the Normans and the Emperors of Burgundy have respected an uneasy truce, contend to compete for influence in lesser kingdoms. But that peace seems more precarious than ever as old claims resurface and a series of brutal assassinations bring the two powers on the verge of open war.

Once-beaten enemies watch this with eager eyes and bid their time for revenge.

Wrestled from the Holland by the Billungs, Lotharingia is once against on the path to glory, having conquered vast swaths of Russian grounds from the last Rurikovitchs. In Greece and Bulgaria, the flag of Byantium rises again. And beyond the borders of Christendom, the sultanates of Qarakhnid and Zirid await the opportunity to storm Europe and spread the world of Muhammad.
(by the way we always need additional players so step forward if you are interested :D).
 
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TABLE OF CONTENTS

The game at a glance

First session : 1399-1426

Second session : 1426-1458

Third session : 1458-1487

Fourth session : 1487-1518

Fifth session : 1518-1553

Sixth session : 1553-1583

Seventh session : 1583-1611

Eighth session : 1611-1641

Ninth session : 1641-1669

Tenth session : 1669-1692

Eleventh session : 1692-1723

Twelfth session : 1723-1738

Thirteenth session : 1738-1760

Fourteenth session : 1760-1774

Fifteenth session : 1774-1804

Fifteenth session : 1804-1813

Fifteenth session : 1813-1825

Sixteenth session : 1825-1836


Reference material

 
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THE GAME AT A GLANCE

A visual summary of this episode, which I'll try to periodically update.

A map of the World in 1399 :

EU3_1399.jpg



A map of the World in 1836:

EU3_1836_small.jpg


And an animated GIF of the game :
eu3bis.gif

(made with Kurper's EU3View)
 
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A list of the kings of Normandy
Kuipy (Normandy)

Just the list, for the moment ; and as much a reminder to myself as to others. Since I do not like too much Normandy's Vanilla name selection, and since it messes up the number of kings anyway (of course, king tally it uses is for dukes of Normandy in our timeline, not king of the Normans in this one - doh) I decided to rename them. So there they go :

Rolland I the Gallant (x-1359-1405), the longest-reigning Norman king. Came to the throne a young, strong, handsome knight, died on it a grieving, embitterredold man. Conquered Finland for his brother Fréry, battled ceaselessly with Jews, nobles and his own son to centralize power, vainly tried to put a Normandie on the Dutch throne. Known for his tumultuous relation with his erstwhile mentor and eventual advisor, master Josce of York.

Rolland II the Miser (1384-1405-1438), Rolland's grandson. A weak, cowardly man, spent most of his life a puppet of Norman nobility, left the kingdom impoverished and divided.

Roger III the Cruel (1395-1438-1452), Rolland I's grandson and Rolland II's cousin. A strong warrior, spent his youth exiled in Finland, where he fought Russians and Swedes, earning a reputation of great ferocity and skill-at-arms. Conquered back what his cousin had lost, subjugated the Icelandic earlsand imposed Norman domination of the North Atlantic trade over Sweden.

William I (1428-1452-1469), Roger's son, conquered the Azores and ordered the first Norman official expeditions to the New World

Hugues II (1452-1469-1491), William's son, built numerous churches and convents but took a severe stance against the growing corruption and simony of a Burgundian-dominated Papacy. Gave the first charters to official colonies in the Carribean and the Papist Islands.

Geoffroy II (1480-1491-1515), Roger III's grandson and Hugues II's cousin, a genial, amiable man, fought his bastard half-brothers Hercule de la Bouque and Robert Cabage for the throne in the series of undecisive civil wars (Irish Campaign, Cornish insurrection, Leonese rising). Mostly left to their own device, oversea provinces stagnate, although a private expedition by Lord Quesdeville conquers Iucatan.

Roger IV (1498-1515-1519), Geoffroy II's son, embraces René de Melun's great Reform and dies, probably of poison.

Geoffroy III (1503-1519-1524), Roger IV's brother, faces one more revolt from Geoffroy de la Bouque, Hercule's son, now sponsored by René de Melun, and dies drowned in the Thames after the disastrous battle of Oxford. At some point during his reign Altavilla conquers Mexico with a ragged band of local suppletives, becoming the first and last God-King of the Aztecs.

Geoffroy IV (1507-1524-1527), Geoffroy III's brother, born Hercule-Geoffroy, signs a precarious peace with Geoffroy de la Bouque but makes the mistake of alienating the increasingly powerful René de Melun. Dies during a Londonian insurrection, in the incendy of the Old Palace, a few hours after Geoffroy de la Bouque's army enters the city ostensibly to reestablish order.

Geoffroy V (1485-1527-1543), Roger III's greatgrandson and Geoffroy IV's cousin, son of Hercule de la Bouque, a mean, dangerous man, allies with René de Melun and Duke Roger Blount. Stirs the growing anti-French sentiment during an interminent fifteen-year-long civil war at the end of which he succeeds in obtaining the Norman throne. Obtains the submission of Altaville, integrating the Duchy of Mexico and Aztecs in the Norman Realm. Orders a failed expedition to India.

Roger V the Great (1500-1543-1583), Geoffroy V's son. Builds the New Palace in Londond over the ruins of the Old one. His reign is one of calm prosperity but also complacency and stagnation. Brings Iceland and the Swedish merchant ports under closer Norman rule.

Robert III the Grey (1527-1583-1586), Roger V's son. A short-lived, transitional monarch.

Roger VI the Vainquished (1547-1586- abdicated 1595-1626), Robert III's son. Unfit for the throne, was beaten by the Swedes over the issue of Scandinavian merchant ports and resigned in favor of his son Robet IV.

Robert IV the Beardless (1579-1595-1611), Roger VI's son. A blond, lithe, charismatic general. Beats Sweden with French help. The first king in Europe, he sails to India with a conquering army, disembarks at Calicut and conquers the core of Indes Normandes. Dies in battle from a cannon shot.

Robert V (1595-1611-1615), Robert IV's son. Follows his father's footsteps, enlarges the Indes Normandes and dies there.

Hugues III the Fool (1597-1615-1618), Robert V's brother. Third king in a row to die in India, in an ambush. Pursued the Conquest of Sweden.

Roger VII (1606-1618-1625), Hugues III's and Robert V's brother. Died shortly after his majority.

Robert VI (1595-1625-1635), Robert IV's bastard son. Served his father as officer and his brothers as regent ; eventually succeeded them. Brought the Indes Normandes to their maximal extension

William II the Stammerer (1618-1635-1640), Robert VI's son. Lost the Southern Rockies to Granada.

Roger VIII (1621-1640-1661), William II's brother. Reconquered the territory lost during William II's reign.

Robert VII (1643-1661-1675), Roger VIII's son.

William III (1625-1675-1698), Robert VII's son, won the decisive victory against Swedes, putting an end to their power.

Robert VIII (1647-1675-1698), William III's son, resumed colonization of the New World, interrupted since William II.

Robert IX (1665-1711-1725), Robert VIII's son, a weak-willed, peevish man, let himself be ruled by priests, granting them dangerous power, and diminished the power of the military.

Robert X the Gentle (1692 - 1725-1746), Robert IX's son, an amiable but uncertain and wavering man, left the power in the hands of ministers and bishops. During his rule a massive rebellion of Indian natives cost Normandy all but the whole Norman India.

Gaillard III the Cursed (1715-1746-1767), Robert X's second son, re-established the State powers and finances with several impopular measures, ordered settlement of the Middle West resumed and declared the wars that his successor successfully waged. Honest and competent but hated by the population, was assassinated and replaced by his more flamboyant nephew William IV.

William IV the Thug, the Conqueror, the Bane of Spaniards (1745-1767-1795). The Norman Napoleon. Pretended to be Robert X's elder son Prince Robert's lost son, raised by Thugs in India. He rose through the ranks of Norman irregulars, largely contributed to the reconquest of India and commanded the Norman armies in Sweden and the New World. Eventually took power and forceably married his dead uncle's daughter Queen Mathilde. Granted (nominal) independance to Canada, traded California for inner India with the Netherlands, and parts of inner India for the county of Orissa with the Timurid Empire.

Robert XI (1769-1795-1826), William IV's son. The closest thing since Robert VI to a modern politician. Encouraged the settlement of Southern Pacific and Alaska. Let his general Isembard de Crottay fight Tver to a stalemate, then came to the help of Tver after its disastrous war with the Byzantines. Initiated greater collaboration with the Mughals.

Robert XII (1801-1826- ?), Robert XI's son.

in other words :

genea2-1.jpg

 
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Tempest
Kuipy (Normandy)

Hubert Blount had been in this tower before, as a page to King Robert the Young. Fads and faces and even the way people talked had been different then, and the Thames quays you could see through the arched window had not nearly been as bustling. But it was the same place, the same soot-stained walls of the Old Cabinet, in William's Tower. Now he remembered it all, which is the last, bitter pleasure of old age. One man in particular he remembered, Robert's cousin Domingo of Portugal, the last of the Normandie-Portugal who had lost his kingdom to the Auvergne. He was a bent, sad man with hollow, stubbly cheeks and droopy eyes, who droned silently through the castle's corridors, coughing and pretending to be a king in his worn robes of gold. People still showed him courtesy, but that reverence grew more mocking every passing year, and often they would make fun of him behind his back. Once he had caught him as a supper, sliding a loaf of bread in his boats. Their eyes had met, and the king had looked away in shame. It was the last Hubert had sawn of him.

Well, shame apart, it would probably not come to that for him. Once more he looked at the parchment in front of him. It was not a bad treaty, all in all, not by a long shot. He retained his peerage, his titles and arms, his honors and manors, his hostel in London and most of his lands, as private property. He would even keep some of his prerogatives, although his nephews would not inherit them. He would remain a duke, as Domingo had remained a king. He would remain rich, and even grow wealthier with the allowance he would receive from the Crown. But he would no longer rule, or percieve taxes as he saw fit, or give justice except in few curtailed cases, or levy any troops without his liege’s permission.

What would his father have said ?

What would the first of his line say, Joscelin le Blount, a mere captain-at-arms in Eu, granted with arms and a manor in Cornwall for services to the Crown ?

And what choice would they have had, in his position ? He looked up where a king whose great-granfather he had known sat on a golden throne, his uncle besides him.
There was some sympathy in Richard's eyes, and the king knew better than to rub it in. But behind them his man Eilif smirked triumpantly, his arms crossed before his giant's chest.
 
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“You have been read the terms of the treaty” King Rolland said. “If some of them remain unclear, our good legist Josce of York stands ready to explain them.”
At his name the shriveled Jew stirred in his black robes, a somewhat familiar face to Hubert Blount. They called him the Black Robin, but he looked more like a vulture, lean and hunched, with bony hands and a beak-shaped nose.
“That I am, your Grace,” the huddled figure rasped. His eyes stared at Hubert, still intent after all these years, and in them the duke thought he saw a flicker of recognition. Both of them had lived too long and survived too much.

“I understand the terms,” he answered, wishing he did not understand them them so well.
In his tired hand the ducal seal had never seemed so heavy in fifty years. Suddenly he put it down.
“It is a bad treaty, and I will not sign it.”
Richard stopped and Eilif stared, uncertain and red-faced. Obviously that Norse intrigant had lost the habit of being resisted.


“We are your king, Blount.” Rolland II said sternly. Crushing the peers might not have been his notion in the first place, but his Norse Marshall and Intendant had certainly known to present it in ways which appealed to his rapacity.
“By the Grace of God and the consent of the peers” Blount answered, surprised by his own daring “What a lord hath given he can take away. Your Grace.”

He nodded and walked away with all the dignity his old age and the king’s safe conduct allowed him.

“It was your idea, Eilif. You said he would cede.” The king pointed once he had left.
“Yes. I thought he would. But this may be for the best, as we can denounce him for a rebel and strip him of all his titles.”
“And what do you make of Cabesat de Vaca? Blount’s example will certainly incite him to take arms against us. We will fight both Wales and Scotland, and at which expense.”
“In the long run they cannot prevail.”
“All the more cause for concern. They know it, and will strike our demesne fast, before any troops can summon there. The expense! The devastation! When can we expect reinforcement?”
“We can have levies from Cornwall in one month, and from Bretagne in three.”
“Three months... Uncle?”

Richard de Normandie stroke his luscious black beard.

“Let me ride to Lancaster in all haste. The place is strong, the harvest has just been done, and the bourgmestre is trusty. If we can gather an army of, say, four thousand in the shire and quarter him behind its wall, well then neither Blount nor Cabesat can march with us behind them, or take the city without losing men and time they cannot spare. Whatever they do it will buy time for the host to be gathered in Wessex and Essex, and to meet the rebels with superior forces.”
“I think this would work” Eilif approved. “Let me ride with Lord Richard and a strong escort, your Grace.”
“No” Richard say. “No escort. It would slow us down and make the journey more dangerous. Let us ride alone and under disguise, if you want to come.”
The king looked more peeved than really concerned.
“Very well. Do that.” He dismissed them with a gesture and made for his chambers. “Master Josce, the accounts.”

The old man gathered his documents and Richard bent toward him to whisper: “This is bad.”
“Yes” Josce answered indifferently.
“Can you make him see it?”
An honest shrug answered him.
“He is not his father. If you will excuse me...”
And he trotted away in the king's footsteps.


eilif.jpg

Eilif. He could have done anything, if only...
 
From the catalogue of the L. Museum
Kuipy (Normandy)

Bourville, Portrait of master Josce (1470s ?)
oil on walnut panel, 52 cm x 30 cm

Little is known of the Black Robin’s family and early days. In his later days he came to be designated as Josce of York, but this may refer to the large estate on the banks of the Foss. Contemporary accounts suggest he was instead born in a Jewish family London around 1330. He probably experienced first-hand the great plague epidemic of 1338, which may also account for his lack of known relatives. In 1343 he was placed as apprentice to a Jewish military surgeon named master Moses, and took part in the 1345 battle of Ypres against the Dutch, were Moses was killed and Isaac was wounded in the head. Over the next few years he traveled extensively in an out of Europe. The details of his journeys are unknown but there is little doubt from his subsequent career that he was one of the best-learnt men of his time, speaking more than a dozen languages and mastering a wide array of sciences. It is certain, at any rate that he visited Burgundy, Northern Italy and maybe Africa, and attended the teaching of Jewish and gentiles master in Milano, Toledo and the then-fledging University of London.

In 1353 his career took an unexpected turn as he was chosen as tutor for Crown Prince Rolland, then a gifted but proud and temperamental adolescent. By all accounts their relation was warm and even friendly, but it quickly deteriorated after Rolland’s accession to the throne in 1359 and his subsequent persecution of Jews (1360-1365). Josce briefly served as a legal adviser to Rolland’s brother Fréry in Finland, then went in semi-exile at the court of Duke Torge Cabesat de Vaca in Scotland.

After a dozen years, he once again came to prominence as the tutor of Rolland’s son Robert and was apparently recalled to the court in London. In the Norman civil war of 1378 he acted as a successful intercessor between the father and his rebellious son. Over the next two decades he acted as physician, counselor and diplomat to both of them, notably acting to prevent a war with Burgundy over Robert’s eventual assassination (1399). After Rolland’s death (1405), old, ailing, and probably deeply affected by the loss of his two royal pupils, he seemed to have retired for a few years but was recalled to power by Rolland II the Miser and briefly worked with Eilif of Norway and Rolland's uncle Richard to reform the country’s finances. In 1412 he died and was buried out of consecrated ground in one of his Yorkshire estates. Although cynical and impopular, as a councilor to the king he favored the arts and the sciences, and taught medicine to Simon Picot, future creator of the London Royal Hospital. His works included Notes on Aristotle, Commentary of al-Kindi, Commentary of Galen, Treaty of the Laws, and a monumental Things of the World, dedicated to his patron Rolland the Gallant, all of which are lost today, as well as a Finnish History, of which only brief excerpts remain.

In this piece he appears as an old, weary man, in the very simple dark robes which earned him the nickname of Black Robin (in Norman, a robin is a man of the robe, specifically a lawyer). His left hand rests on the arm of a large armchair, carved in the likeness of a lion. His right one holds a golden coin, as a reminder of his role in creating the Bank of Normandy. Behind him, a small monkey stands on the table strewn with books, one of them, possibly the Things of the World, opened to present an unrecognizable, and possibly fictitious, map. The background itself is a dark, featureless green.

The datation of that piece has been the object of much controversy, especially as it is sometimes touted as one of the earliest examples of oil painting (other candidates include van Eylc's Flemish merchants and Massello’s Courtesan with pearls). It can be safely estimated than the single panel was from a black walnut tree felled in southern England between 1370 and 1390 (possibly during the "Felling of Wessex" of the late 14th centry, when many woodlands were cleared in the region by Norman settlers) ; however there is little doubt that much time intervened before it was used or reused by the artist. The paint and varnish are nigh on impossible to date, because of several alterations and restorations of the painting.

The painting itself, however, gives some hints of the time when it was produced. It bears the signature ‘BV.’, generally understood to mean ‘Bourville’ or ‘Bourveille’ and found on only one other extant work, the Blount retable in London, dated from 1460 and which represents Saint Hugues performing miracles. Nothing is known about Bourville himself, but from contemporary inventories he was a prolific an active and successful producer of both sacred and profane art, whose patrons included peers and royalty. The monkey on the table, with his bald face and coiled tail, is undoubtedly a capuchin from South America, which obviously was not be seen or even heard of in Europe for several decades after Isaac’s death. On the other hand, the robin’s portrayal fits contemporary descriptions, including the shrapnel scar running through his scalp, the hooked nose and sallow cheeks. Clearly Bourville based his portait on testimonies or his own recollection of a man he could conceivably have met many years before. It is therefore suspected that the portrait must be dated to the late 15th century, maybe between 1470 and 1480, and in any case later than 1425, when Courtesan with Pearls was presented to Emperor Charles I of Burgundy.

There is nevertheless a striking, unprecedented realism in this representation. The hard features and bitter expression of this old, wrinkled man, the sparse grey hair, the toothless mouth are in sharp contrasts with contemporary idealized miniatures. Anatomy and body proportion are flawless, somewhat fittingly for a surgeon heaped with praise in Simon Picot's Maladies of the Bones. That surprising modernity, though, did not meet with much success in the 16th century, although that can also be explained by the unpopularity of the man portrayed. The portrait appeared to have remained in a warehouse of the Bank of Normandy until 1658, when it was sold, as part of a lot, to the Duke of Green-Isle, and later joined the collections of the L. Museum.
 
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From the catalogue of the L. Museum
Kuipy (Normandy)


The assassination of Peers Richard and Eilif(1420)

Miniature, 14 cm x 21 cm

Bataille_entre_H%C3%A9breux_et_Madianites.JPG

(wikipedia has pictures of everything)

This miniature used to adorn an exemplary of Life of Rolland's Sons, a history treaty composed by Abbot Gaillard Coleville in the 1430s. Although unremarkable in terms of execution, it features arguably the most important and event of early 15th century in England.

Ever since it had been formalized by decret of Bardol I, the Norman peerage had been an exclusive institution, much along the lines of the long-dissolved French one. Not even all Dukes could pretend to it, and, as the name implied, it granted privileges and exemptions almost on par with the king's prerogatives. Indeed, at Rolland I's death, that status was limited to Dukes Charles de Vogüe, Hubert Blount and Magnus Cabesat de Vaca, to the archbishop of Eu Maurice de Vogüe and to Rolland's two surviving sons, Richard as heir apparent and Charles as the ruling archbishop of Galway.

It is therefore not surprising that the grand nobility of the realm perceived as a threat to their rights the sudden elevation of Eilif the Norse, a simple petty noble and former captain of the royal guard, to the distinction of peer. More than Rolland's rather passive and lackluster style of rule, focused essentially on the administration of the royal demesne and development of trade, it was his minister's ideas and personality who provoked the nobles' ire. An outsider to the English feudal system, and an ardent partisan of a strong, centralized state, Eilif proposed many of the reforms that Roger III would later implement forcefully, all aiming at limiting the power of nobility and placing their estate directly under the crown's control.

On September 24th 1409, as they rode toward the fortress of Lancaster in the plain red garments of Jewish cloth merchants, Eilif and the king's uncle Richard were ambushed and killed in the Sherwood forest. The next days their bloodied bodies were displayed at Nottingham and Lincoln, where count Benoit de Meschines had them stripped and hanged. As the news of the murder spread many kingly envoys were executed, while Richard's son Roger, warned by a rider, fled to the security of his cousin's court in Finland.

Over the next two decades the power of King Rolland sunk to lows unseen since Gaillard the Mad's reign. A prisoner in his own capital, Rolland acted a puppet of the British nobility grouped around the influential figure of Magnus Cabesat de Vaca, while the marches of the Empire regressed into near-independance, and the opportunistic Irish Diaz claimed actual sovereignty over all of Ireland.


So yes that's what happens when you drop because of synch error...
 
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Oh, that's not knights. That's bronze-age Hebrews. Seriously.

This map is not awesome. This map sucks because it shows some lame powergamer beat me to the New World which would not be awesome even if it cured cancer.

Storm
Kuipy (Normandy)

Rolland’s hand trembled so much that he cut himself with the razor. Blood trickled in the shaving bowl and he looked at his prickled face in the small silver mirror with repressed anger. As the king he should have a barber and other servants, but a quick look at his gaoler convinced him that the barber would not be forthcoming.

“Are you done yet?” Duke Jacques Cabesat de Vaca asked impatiently.
Rolland felt quite done with the razor and flung it on the table, then nodded with fright. Cabesat de Vaca pushed the heavy door open and motioned him to follow down the flight of stairs.

The courtyard and battlements bristled with soldiers who did not seem aware he was their king. The Blount brothers cast him a surly look, two blond, tired knights on blue-clad horses.
“It is time,” Hubert of Wales said, now a duke with his father slain under the walls of London. His younger brother Philip spat and added, “Saddle up, majesty.”

The horse he was brought was one of his old favorite steeds, a chesnut courser his father had given him for his fifteenth namesday. She whinnied softly when he put his hand on her neck.
“I know, Belle. I wish it too.”
When the portcullis raised and they rode under its black, shining teeth, sergents surrounded him closely, wary that he would make a run for it, as would have done in similar circumstances. They passed the Old and the New Walls, gathered some speed on the narrow road which descended the crag. Beneath them, his cousin’s camp sprawled, hundreds of banners flapping in the wind.

Hubert Blount was riding first, with Cabesat de Vaca and Philip Blount at his side, and a yard behind them Alexandre de Meschines. Their escort altogether amounted to more than a hundred men, half of them knights, much more men than needed for a normal negotiation. It only took Rolland a look at their pale, sweaty faces to understand their fear. After London his cousin Roger had had the Blounts’ cousin and Meschines’ two uncles killed in such a parlay.
But this time he sallied from his own ranks with no more than a squire at his side, a Blount from a distaff line, to which he tossed a eight-foot lance as if it weighed no more than a twig. For the first time in twenty years Rolland beheld him, a large, strong man with the blue eyes of the Normandies, and a fierce black beard framing his hardened face. Rolland's cousin wore stained leather and a fur cloak, a sword and a bullwhip hung from his belt. Born a heir to the Lotharingian throne and a son to a Norman peer, he had lost all that and fled to his great-uncle's court in Finland, spent two decades there, fighting Swedes and hunting Russians in cold grey birch forests. Then he had riden through the German duchies, gathering an army of mercenaries, embarked at Oldenburg and set sail on England, gathering all loyalists to the Normandie dynasty. They said that he spoke Noman, Occitan, Latin, Dutch, Finn and German, that he had riden in twenty tourneys and not been unhorsed once, that he hardly ever slept.

Hubert licked his lip nervously.
“Sir Roger.”
“My lords. Do you come to beg for mercy?”
“We come to negotiate the terms an honorable surrender.”

An other man would have reminded them that they had already been beaten twice, that the country supported him, that they own kin had hurried to rally him once the wind had turned. He would have cursed them for his father’s assassination and asked what honor they had left after all but deposing their own king. Roger just laughed.
 
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“The king is our hostage.”
“Give them what they want, cousin,” he urged.
Roger barely glanced at him.
“Fear not, cousin. I have a plan.”
“They say you are a great commander. Well, you surely know castle Dyfed’s reputation.”
“What of it?”
It was William’s turn to answer.
“The castle stands on a crag of granite, so you can’t sap its walls. Its only access by land is a narrow causeway so steep and rugged that horse can not charge and infantry not advance in formation, yet it will afford you men no cover against our shooters and canons. Not one in three will come to the foot of the New Wall, which forms the northern, first rampart. It is fifteen feet thick and fifty high with covered battlements. Some say that twenty men could hold it against an army. We have two thousand.”
Roger looked unimpressed.
“I do not see how you could storm or pass this wall. But maybe you will. It does not matter, we can afford to lose the harbor and outer barracks. You would still have the Old Wall between you and the inner courtyard. What if you pass it, you may ask? We could still retreat to the Old Bailey. That would be when we hang the king.”
“Is that it?” the black-bearded knight asked.
“You would be wise to deal with us.” Cabesat de Vaca answered. “You beat us, fair enough. Reinstate your cousin with you as his minister. Take back what he granted us these twenty last years, demand hostages and indemnities, revoke our privileges, anything. We all know that you would win in the end, starve us to death or lose ten thousand and take the walls. We know we can no longer against you. All we demand is to keep our lives and titles.”
“You are in no position to demand anything” Roger answered icily. “I give you one day to bend the knee and surrender the castle without conditions.”

On the ride back it seemed to the king that he was already dead. They shoved him back into his room.

“Keep your eyes on him.” Hubert ordered his brother. Philip sat on the only chair and began toying silently with a coil of rope. All there was left for Rolland was to lay on the bed, afraid and confused. Could Roger really hope to rescue him? Or was he willing to sacrifice and success him? Assuredly for a man like Roger or his father that Rolland would seem a small enough loss. Had he not failed his kin, bankrupted the realm, become the pawn then the hostage of the nobles? It made him cry to see how powerless they had made him, concession after concession, weakness after weakness, cowardice after cowardice. He longed for the lost glory into which he had been born, the comfort and wealth of his youth.

As he laid frightened his mind drifted forlornly toward these erstwhile splendors, his dear hounds and favorite horses, his trusty servants, his golden tapestries and exquisite furniture, his jewels and raiments, all stripped from him over the years. They had even taken from him the two fingers of his ancestor Saint Hugues de Normandie in a golden statue, and his vermeil crucifix, but he joined his pale hands and prayed nevertheless for safety and deliverance.

Finally, as the sun was lying low, somebody knocked at the door, thrice in rapid succession, then twice more slowly. At the first knock Philip had jumped to his feet, hand on his dagger, but he relaxed and turned the key. Behind the door his brother and Duke Hubert wore rough, black cloth over padded leather. There were eight soldiers with them, all strong and nervous. Four of them were heaving two large oaken chests, heavy as only gold can be, if there is enough of it to buy a kingdom.

“Time to go.” Hubert whispered. Philip nodded and they proceeded through a secret passage in the wall, to a dank cellar from where another gallery slowly descended in the dark.

“Where will the ship be?” William whispered.
“Behind the Bitches, just out of the camp's sight.”
The second Blount brother, who walked just behind Rolland and held one of their only two lantern, made a face.
“I only hope those Flemish don't betray us.”
“And what if the czar won't give us safe haven?” Meschines asked.
“Would you rather stay here and try your luck with Roger?” Hubert answered, which settled it.
“Besides, our brave king may still be worth something.” He snorted. “As an hostage, that is.”

They took a turn and ended face to face with an other group. Men shouted and chests fell on the ground ; Rolland heard swords drawn in the darkness. They the first man in the other party stepped in the light of a torch and they all recognized Roger.

“My lords” he said, rash as ever. In the dark his eyes glowed like a dog's. “All four of you. Good.”
“The Dutchmen !” someone spat
“You may find some small comfort in that your associate did not betray you willingly. They even fought my men – though not very well.”

Roger’s men seemed more numerous but in the dark, cramped passage, the fight could easily turn either way, and the rebels were desperate enough to take their chances. Then Rolland felt his heart sunk. From behind his cousin came a rustle of stone and metal. A dozen wicks flickered in the shadows over the glistening iron of arquebuses. Enough to kill half of them in a single volley.

“Look here.” Philip raised his lantern in the very front of Rolland’s face. “If you fire your cousin is dead.”
At that Roger flashed a wolfish smile.
“Yes,” he said. “And then I will be king.”
He lifted his gloved hand and the arquebuses roared.


Yep. Roger III is that kind of man.
 
From the catalogue of the L. Museum
Kuipy (Normandy)


A stuffed gyrfalcon (1440s)

This bird, an Icelandic gyrfalcon recognizable to his pale grey down, certainly arrived in England as part of the tribute paid by Icelandic jarls to the kings of the Normans after the short Boreal War.

Although already a power of some consequence, Normandy was greatly weakened in the early 15th century by strife and unrest in the nobility, which culminated in the imprisonment of king Rolland II, first in London, then in the old Welsh holdout of Castle Dyfed, where he was eventually assassinated in Autumn 1438 despite the efforts of his cousin Roger de Normandie to free him.

Roger, now nominally the new king under the new Roger III, found his realm divided and ruined by strife, unrest and prevarication. Famine and staggering inflation beset his authority, which did not extend further than Great Britain proper, where erstwhile rebellious lord, after the sack of Dyfed, had grudgingly rallied to him.

Over the next few years, in a series of daring in inspired expeditions, he reconquered the marches of Bretagne, Leon and Ireland, where he showed no mercy to anyone opposing his rule. As Greater Normandy was all but reunited, he turned his eyes to the Orkneys and Western Isles, on the Northern shores of Scotland.

Despite the scarcity of written accounts concerning the northern Isles in that time, the collapse of central Norman power appears to have emboldened the Icelanders to take possession of the Orkneys, then part of the Duchy of the Isles, in late 1413 or 1414. Although brash in insight, that move was but the development of the Icelandic jarls long-standing hegemony in North Atlantic, going back at least to the collapse of the Norman-Swedish Kingdom in the 1350s, and probably before. More or less ignored by the rest of Europe, Icelanders, dominated by a caste of rich landowners and malcontent jarls having fled the Norman conquest of Norway and Sweden, had long dominated trade in this part of the world, eventually extending their rules to the Faeroes and the Shetlands. Yet, that time, the jarls had overreached.

Still unsure of his barons' compelled loyalty, concerned with the Icelanders' power at sea and their allies in Scandinavia, Roger III wavered for some time before taking the fight to them. When he did, though, it was with a force and efficiency which stupedied Europe. While Scottish levies moved to reoccupy the Orkneys proper, a naval force under his personal command successfully sailed to Iceland in 1448 and sacked each of its ports in a series of devastating raids, quickly burning the unfortified cities into submission. Despite the lack of serious opposition, that unprecedented feat of projecting a force 6,000 strong over 700 miles of stormy Atlantic was a testimony to his superb command and to Norman seamanship.

Troops then sailed back to Scotland, where rejoined by local militias they fought back three successive Swedish invasions in 1448 and 1449. Despite their success at sea over an outnumbered Norman Navy the Swedes had to finally relent and concede the North Atlantic to Roger.

The terms of the peace imposed to Iceland were harsh but, especially in view of the circumstances and rather uncharacteristically for Roger the Cruel, not devastating. The jarls acknowledged the Norman’s overlordship but retained their rights and custom in exchange for "annual tithing on cod and whale, harbor fees in Rejkyavik and Akureyri, and besides six of these birds knowne as gyrfalcons a year."

Interestingly enough, the treaty does not mention the valuable walrus tusks which had formed a staple of Iceland’s export to Europe in the 12th and 13th century. This tends to indicate that, by that time, climate change and increased centralization had brought Icelandic forays in Greenland to a halt. Gyrfalcons themselves, however, were very popular birds of prey and made as splendid a tribute as could be expected from the earls of Iceland. Roger's son William I was reportedly fond of them and owned more of a dozen at a time.

Perhaps more importantly, by subjugating Iceland the Normans had I heqrdpreempted any attempt by a continental power to control the northern Atlantic, showed their willingness never to give up on their claims and prove that they were once again able to contend with major european powers. The lesson was lost neither abroad nor in Great Normandy. By the summer of 1450, the former restive Lord of Scotland and Northern England had resigned themselves to Roger's stern and violent rule.


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Wikipedia has pictures of everything
 
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What nations are available, if it is as you say, and players are always needed? :cool:

Strongest choices right now would probably be Byzantium, Sweden, Timurids and maybe Holland.

Other choices that would be more challenging - Poland, Morroco a nation in India.

Not sure if we want someone in Granada but they are free until Vicky:R I think.

So basically most of the world is available. The only nations filled for sure currently are Burgundy, Normandy, Russia and (I think) Japan.
 
From the catalogue of the L. Museum
Kuipy (Normandy)


Ordre de Mission(1467)

The one-page manuscript, in an exquisite handwriting, details the instructions given to François de Dampierre, a Cornish baron, captain of some renown and veteran of the taking of Azores Islands.

Dampierre was to depart from Eu with the new “Saint-Hugues”, stop at the Azores for food and fresh water, then sail to the Burgundian port of Belem, at that time no more than a group of shacks near the mouth of the Amazon. By special agreement between the soverigns of Normandy and Burgundy a fourteen-ship Norman fleet used it as a base for forays along the uncharted islands of the Carribeans. There he was to relieve the first admiral of that fleet, Romain de Quenonville, and take over the exploration of whichever land was to be found north and west of Grao Para. His standing orders included to establish contact with natives, assess the ressources of the region and, with the help of André de Saint-Bosmer, the crafter who gave his name to the Saint-Bosmer maps, to chart all coastlines and currents in the region.

The fleet, as such, remained in the area for more than a dozen years, regularly calling back to Belem, discovering Cuba, Green-Isles, Terre-des-Fleurs, aand Yucatan country. While unable to establish a permanent settlement over what would come to be known as the Norman Sea, Saint-Bosmer’s maps and Dampierre’s detailed account would constitute the basis for most future expeditions; it is worth mentioning that both future duke Étienne Chamaury and Jacques of Hereford, Altavila's lieutenant, served, for a time, under Dampierre's command.

Compared to the flourishes of the text William’s signature is written with a gruff, almost clumsy hand, befitting a king who cared more for hunting and war than for the arts. The name of William or “Guillaume” as written here was new to the kings of Normandy, if not to the Norman dynasty. When chosing it for his elder son, Roger III certainly meant to honor his maternal grandfather Willem Billung and his ancestor William the Conqueror.


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