I'm a fan of Byz so it would be fun. That and I've never played a multilayer before so I'd rather play a nation that has a lot to gain and little to lose. This evening I'll get ICQ and start setting stuff up.
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I checked the MTT site and it seems most ICW numbers arent listed.
Interested Players and their Title:
Formula - Italy
King of Men - Norway (ICQ#205752074)
Dr Bob - England (ICQ#284067934)
martmol - Byzantium
BurningEgo - Castille
Sid - China
Absolut - Burgundy
Thats directly from the first post. Is there an ICQ update?
Interested Players and their Title:
Formula - Italy
King of Men - Norway (ICQ#205752074)
Dr Bob - England (ICQ#284067934)
martmol - Byzantium
BurningEgo - Castille
Sid - China
Absolut - Burgundy
Thats directly from the first post. Is there an ICQ update?
Sure
Absolut: 206-522-909
Sid: 205-365-489
Martmol: 318-416-180 (not playing anymore)
Nagel: 321-235-753 (subbing/perming Poland)
Formula isn't playing anymore either
Absolut: 206-522-909
Sid: 205-365-489
Martmol: 318-416-180 (not playing anymore)
Nagel: 321-235-753 (subbing/perming Poland)
Formula isn't playing anymore either
I just read through this whole thread and I just wanted to say, great AAR. Most AAR's I've read, mostly in other games, tend to be a bit boring because it's all one persons view, and more often said persons steamrolling of everything else, but making it a multiplayer AAR, and then in the already epic 1066 to 1953 inter-game, just makes it really fun to read for me. ^-^ It really makes me wish I had CK vicky and HoI as well to play one myself XD Anyways, good luck with your empires, looking forward to finding out how they all end up!
I am not sure if I got time but if you send me the GMT time for the game to play unto skarionGA@hotmail.com I can try to get there if you need a player for EU2, Vicky or HoI2.
Sadly I am not good at all on Vicky so don't count me in for anything bigger then Italy.
I'm average in Eu2 and pretty good on HoI2/DD though.
Sadly I am not good at all on Vicky so don't count me in for anything bigger then Italy.
I'm average in Eu2 and pretty good on HoI2/DD though.
Huh, seems the AAR forums is a goldmine of recruits
The time is GMT 13:00/CEST 15:00
The time is GMT 13:00/CEST 15:00
Welcome, Skarion, we shall be happy to have you play if you can make it.
Zoston, thanks for your kind words, though personally I would prefer that the AAR had ended in 1075 with Norway's conquest of Constantinople.
Zoston, thanks for your kind words, though personally I would prefer that the AAR had ended in 1075 with Norway's conquest of Constantinople.
Well, it depends on several factors. If one state establishes a really dominating position during Vicky, (*cough China cough*) there may not be any point. We will also need to convert to HoI2, bearing in mind that we won't be using Revolutions due to economic constraints of some players. Which basically means I would have to write the converter, which I might or might not have time for. Finally, we may just run out of player interest. But in principle, yes, I would like to see us go into blitzkrieg territory. It would be really disappointing if the Ynglings didn't get the opportunity to use a nuke or two for riot control.
My point exactly, though I was more looking forward towards Norwegian tank hordes steamrolling through Germany, and ofcourse Viking Longcarriers. :rofl:
I feel a bit inspired today; this rolled right off my keyboard. I shall post it right away, since it's self-contained; more should follow in due course.
Act I, Scene I
A ship's forecastle. In the background is the coast of Spain, and many ships; some bear dragon-head prows, others fly the Cross of St. George.
Enter an Admiral and a Flag-Captain.
Admiral: What news of our scouts?
Flag-Captain: The Spanish fleet remains at port;
they put forth neither battleship nor frigate.
Admiral: They have grown soft in long years of rule;
we shall beard them in their den,
and bring once more the fame of northern arms
to these limpid waters.
But see, are not these my captains,
come to hear their place in the battle?
Welcome, my sons.
Enter three Captains
1st Captain: Father, we have heard from bondsmen
what seems to us incredible;
we would hear it from your lips.
Admiral: Your request would be better heard
were it couched in military courtesy;
a commander girding for battle
does not covet the title of 'Father'.
2nd Captain: Then, Sir and Admiral,
let my words in courtesy join
my brother's in filial love;
tell us of our place.
Admiral: Have not your orders told it?
3rd Captain: Aye, but we gave them no credit.
Shall the greatest ships of the Norwegian Fleet
lie sluggardly in the rear,
while others take
the pride of place?
Admiral: Such are my orders.
1st Captain: Long Serpent, Eidsvold, Norge :
These to take the rear
when broadsides clamour?
Admiral (sharply): Aye; do Ynglings now
question orders?
Valencia nears;
my time is short.
2nd Captain: It were ill,
did fatherly love
make victory uncertain.
Admiral: In war is no surety;
my dispositions are such
as seem best to me.
Fight your ships;
the whip and the noose
waits for those
who break from their place.
3rd Captain (aside): Fight your ships, quoth he;
'tis a hard task he sets us,
where no foeman comes close!
1st Captain: We go; we await your word.
Forget not; Long Serpent, Eidsvold, Norge :
ever ready we stand.
Exit all
Act I, Scene II
A gundeck being prepared for battle. Ammunition is being carried to the cannons; muskets and cutlasses are passed around.
Enter a Master Gunner and a Gunner's Mate.
Master Gunner: How now; are the charges ready?
Mate: Ready and willing;
our powder is dry
from these many months at sea.
Master: Thou jesteth; sea air makes no drouth.
Mate: Nay, but you are the jester;
have you not seen when our men come ashore,
how easy the flash sparks from their guns?
Master: Fool, here is no laughing matter.
We make ready for such a battle
as the world has not seen before;
and thou speak'st of women?
'Tis worthy of a soft Roman,
not a warrior of the North.
Mate: I may jest;
when saw you me shrink from battle?
The pursuit of women
suits well a soldier;
unless 'tis football,
no pastime is so like
our warrior's art.
Master: How reckon'st thou this?
Mate: Why, 'tis plain!
(As he speaks, the seamen cease their work and crowd around to listen.)
Consider : A woman is a fortress;
an' she be not taken by sudden assault,
months may pass in the long siege.
A strong commissariat
doth the lover also require;
when was woman wooed
without gold and roses?
Then, when the action's joined,
a most dextrous skill
shall soon be drilled
into the recruit;
the man who uses not both hands
will not see his second field.
The ramrod's use must the lover
diligently study;
and howsoever large a gun
a man may boast
- I speak here from experience -
'twill avail him naught, an' he aim it wrong.
The cock of a pistol, the rattle of balls
delights both soldier and lover;
but, an' your halberd be not blocked by armour,
your pleasure may be untimely cut short.
But hark, the ship's bell rings
all hands on deck;
our captain will address us.
Master: I hope his address may be
as cheering as that which thou hast here expounded.
Exit all
Act I, Scene III
The ship's deck. The Flag-Captain addresses the ranks.
Flag-Captain: Now shall the years of our oppression
be turned to glorious rule
by this present battle.
Westward lies the foe, the Spaniard dog,
secure in the tyranny
of his multitude of ships.
But as prosperous days
may make man or country
unfit for war,
so have our pains taught us zeal for the work,
and such a fleet as is now assembled
did Norway never oppose to any foe.
Beside us sail English warships;
well do you know their strength
who fought at Dogger Bank!
But the idle Spaniard,
who whiles away the days
in pursuit of heathen women,
shall this day come to rue
the stab he gave us in that conflict.
Vengeance, they say,
is a dish best eaten cold;
ten years have passed
for the cooling of ours,
and yet we shall serve it
hot and sweet to our former ally.
And we gain this victory,
all the empire
on which the sun never sets
lies at our feet;
the gold if the Incas,
the dusky maidens of Africa,
the pearls of the Orient :
How shall these be defended,
if we but conquer the Spanish fleet?
Therefore, give no thought
to aught but victory;
your very mothers would spit on the son
that came home defeated.
Run out your guns!
The foe approaches.
A last word : If, in the heat of battle,
a friend should stand before your gun's mouth,
in the path of the shot
that will kill a Spaniard
- spare not your fire.
Each shot that strikes home
to the death of a tyrant
is victory enough.
Go! Norway demands that every man shall do his duty today!
Gunner's Mate (aside) : Why, I dare say I have never done less than my duty,
nor has any man lived long, who accused me of it.
Master Gunner: Silence, fool! The foe draws nigh;
And thou dost but continue in thy vaunted course,
none shall reproach thee;
why borrow trouble
where none is intended?
See to thy guns.
Exit all
Act II, Scene I
The gundeck; cannon lie tumbled, and dying men are everywhere. Several beams lie shattered and broken; there is wild confusion.
Enter the Master Gunner.
Master Gunner (stentorian): Avast, ye scurvy sea dogs!
This disorder becomes not
men of the north.
(To a gunner)
That cannon is spent; do thou tumble it overboard,
that we may not stumble on't.
That task done, run thee to the magazine,
and ask there why we lack powder;
bring back a barrel, or thy back shall answer for it.
(Seizing a man tending to a comrade)
Leave him; his life's his own,
but thou canst yet kill a Spaniard;
'twere a service, an' I am any judge,
better than any thou hast yet rendered our fleet.
Go thou, and join that crew
that labours so mightily with their gun;
thy strong back can remedy
the death of their comrade.
Enter the Gunner's Mate.
Master Gunner: How now, mate?
what news of the battle?
Mate: As to that, I know not;
this infernal smoke hides from me
all but the closest foemen.
But the Captain sends me to bring word:
To port lies the Santissima Trinidad,
of seventy-four; her gundeck is stove in, her mast broken.
To starboard Francisco d'Assisi
- 'tis only a Spaniard would name a man'o'war for such a saint -
her colour flutters seaward.
Victory rewards your sacrifice!
Wild cheering
Exit all
Act II, Scene II
The forecastle. The Admiral and his Flag-Captain stand with their officers; they discuss the battle with a Messenger.
Messenger: My lords, I bring word.
The foe presses hard on our seaward flank;
Conqueror and Colossus are taken,
on Bellerophon the boarders hold fo'c'sle and gundeck.
Here you hold victory
firmly in your grasp;
send us then such ships as you can spare,
to our succour.
Flag-Captain: Shall Norwegian lives answer for English failings?
Messenger: An' they do not,
so may the God of Hosts help me,
Norwegian cowardice must answer for Spanish victory.
Flag-Captain: Let it be even as you say;
our ship is spent, her gundeck cleared twice over;
what powder remains is taken from our vanquished foe.
What help should we be on your flank?
Messenger: Then send others;
has the pride and the power no ships to spare?
Admiral: Not a one;
on our front all lie closely engaged,
or beat away battered from the vanquished foe.
I have myself seen three ships
be lost to the ravening flame,
when the foeman cleared their decks
and the marine came aboard bearing torches.
Flag-Captain: And yet there are some -
Admiral (interrupting): Nay, speak not of that!
Fight thy ship, good Captain,
and leave to me the judgement
of who shall be called to fight.
Thy task is smaller than mine;
seek not to look beyond its bounds,
lest the burden prove too heavy.
Come, we are victorious here;
gather our sisters, good Hauk
and powerful Fram,
and let us to the aid of our allies.
Exit all
Act II, Scene III
Again the forecastle. Wounded officers lie groaning; a broken mast splits the scene in two. The Flag-Captain lies stricken; the Admiral holds his head.
Flag-Captain: I have fought my ship as well as a man may do;
nor she, nor I can fight further.
Admiral: Yet we must; the foe comes 'round
our seaward side,
and our rear lies naked to his assault.
Flag-Captain: Do you then take arms
with your pistol, against a man'o'war?
For I warrant, 'tis the only firearm aboard
that may yet do harm to a Spaniard,
though he were only an aged dotard.
Admiral (casting wildly about for a solution): Nay, but cutlass and pike
may yet win battles for old Norway;
an Yngling is worth many a stril.
Come, call for boarders, and let us away.
Flag-Captain: Shall we out oars,
like a galley of old?
A ship dismasted is like an elephant unlegged:
It stays where 'tis put, whosoever shall command otherwise.
Nay, m'lord, seek not in heaven for your answer;
'tis not to be found there.
Only one thing may yet have the power
to avert defeat; give but the order,
and Long Serpent, Eidsvold, and Norge
come to our aid.
Admiral (to himself): He is right; and yet,
how shall I bear to call my sons to these straits?
Nay, that is but cowardice speaking
- manfully, Trygve; today many fathers' sons
have spilt their blood to the waters.
The Power and the Pride,
they call us in Bergen;
such title is not lightly won
- it must be taken at hazard.
And after all they are only Spaniards;
my sons command stout ships
- surely they shall come through the danger.
(Firmly; he has convinced himself.)
Aye, it must be so.
(To a Signaller)
Ahoy, there : Send forth this message.
Call Long Serpent, Eidsvold, and Norge to this flank.
Exit all
Act III, Scene II
The gundeck; order is restored. The Master Gunner looks out of an open gunport; he speaks with the Gunner's Mate.
Gunner's Mate: We'll take no further part of this action;
no powder remains, either wet or dry.
Master Gunner: Aye; but we have fought well;
victory or defeat, we have known no shame today.
Mate: 'Tis in war as in love:
When the battle's over, you regret not its course,
so be it that you stuck firm to your guns.
Master: Hush, fool, this battle's not ended;
I see the Lion Rampant through the fog.
Mate (aside): Aye; when 'tis not rampant,
the battle's ended indeed.
Master: Now I know the ship; 'tis the Long Serpent.
An hundred and twenty guns;
aye, and of the new calibre.
Hark, her broadside - would I had unleashed
such a power on my foes!
Mate: There are some ashore who have no cause
to complain of my broadsides.
I ween the Spaniard will take it less well.
Master: Here comes another; what name's on her bow?
The fog clears, I know her - 'tis Eidsvold,
named for that city
where the elders sit at Ting.
Less deliberate than her namesake she!
An hundred guns; her foretops glisten
with musket barrels.
Nay, now they burst forth in flame.
I trow her victim knows her fury!
Mate: We've known fury enough today.
Master: Aye, and I rejoice to see it revisited.
But look you, here comes yet another.
I knew not we had such an arrow to our quiver.
Mate: I know an arrow that's set many a lady a-quiver.
Master (ignoring him): A bonny sight - an hundred and forty guns if she has a one!
I know but one such ship
in any fleet; Norge it is,
the fatherland's ship!
Mate: From Finland I; 'tis a motherland where I've visited,
allowing only I be nine months gone.
Master: There; they sally. Will the foe stand?
Nay - they turn, they flee!
There is no heart in them to face such power.
A flag falls; another - the day is ours.
Mate: 'Tis well; I trust I may then
have many more nights for mine own.
Exit both
Act III, Scene III
The forecastle; the mast has been cleared, and the wounded removed. The Admiral holds colloquy with several Officers.
Admiral: What news?
1st Officer: The day is ours;
three prizes have I taken. The landward flank
lies strewn with wrecks.
2nd Officer: My ship has burnt;
a prize I took, and therefrom fought.
Two flags have struck to me this day.
3rd Officer: The foeman flees;
a fair wind bears him north.
Admiral: It is well;
but what of our seaward flank,
where fight Long Serpent, Eidsvold, and Norge?
1st Officer: They have borne themselves well;
the gap our foes there sought
is now closed with their choking wreckage.
Admiral: And what of our ships?
2nd Officer: I saw Norge;
battered, but unbowed.
Her wounds were to the fore;
Her captain, I heard, stood proud in the fo'c'sle
until a scything broadside threw him down.
Yet not unavenged went he to Valhall;
Santa Anna is our prize, her crew fed to the sea.
Admiral (whispering): Aye... so be it her wounds were to the fore.
3rd Officer: Eidsvold, I know,
lay alongside Monarca.
A rolling broadside she laid on her target;
the cowardly Spaniard could not reply.
Yet too great was her fury; a fire,
started in the Spaniard's decks,
soon spread; overmastering th' embattled ships,
it reached her powder. I saw no more.
Admiral (ashen): A fitting end for a man of war. Yet what... what news of the Long Serpent?
What news of my youngest son?
1st Officer: Firm stands the Long Serpent.
But fallen is Olav, Trygve's son.
Admiral (bows his head): So I stand alone?
Storm-ribbed? A bare-stripped tree, broken its branches.
2nd Officer: I fear me there is small comfort
for such a case; yet recall,
their wounds were always to the fore.
They will have no mean place in Valhall.
Admiral: Aye, aye, you speak true.
And we have today won such a victory
as shall ring down the decades.
And yet... O my sons!
Curtain falls.
Warriors off Valencia
A Tragedy in three acts, touching on certain events of the Great War
A Tragedy in three acts, touching on certain events of the Great War
Act I, Scene I
A ship's forecastle. In the background is the coast of Spain, and many ships; some bear dragon-head prows, others fly the Cross of St. George.
Enter an Admiral and a Flag-Captain.
Admiral: What news of our scouts?
Flag-Captain: The Spanish fleet remains at port;
they put forth neither battleship nor frigate.
Admiral: They have grown soft in long years of rule;
we shall beard them in their den,
and bring once more the fame of northern arms
to these limpid waters.
But see, are not these my captains,
come to hear their place in the battle?
Welcome, my sons.
Enter three Captains
1st Captain: Father, we have heard from bondsmen
what seems to us incredible;
we would hear it from your lips.
Admiral: Your request would be better heard
were it couched in military courtesy;
a commander girding for battle
does not covet the title of 'Father'.
2nd Captain: Then, Sir and Admiral,
let my words in courtesy join
my brother's in filial love;
tell us of our place.
Admiral: Have not your orders told it?
3rd Captain: Aye, but we gave them no credit.
Shall the greatest ships of the Norwegian Fleet
lie sluggardly in the rear,
while others take
the pride of place?
Admiral: Such are my orders.
1st Captain: Long Serpent, Eidsvold, Norge :
These to take the rear
when broadsides clamour?
Admiral (sharply): Aye; do Ynglings now
question orders?
Valencia nears;
my time is short.
2nd Captain: It were ill,
did fatherly love
make victory uncertain.
Admiral: In war is no surety;
my dispositions are such
as seem best to me.
Fight your ships;
the whip and the noose
waits for those
who break from their place.
3rd Captain (aside): Fight your ships, quoth he;
'tis a hard task he sets us,
where no foeman comes close!
1st Captain: We go; we await your word.
Forget not; Long Serpent, Eidsvold, Norge :
ever ready we stand.
Exit all
Act I, Scene II
A gundeck being prepared for battle. Ammunition is being carried to the cannons; muskets and cutlasses are passed around.
Enter a Master Gunner and a Gunner's Mate.
Master Gunner: How now; are the charges ready?
Mate: Ready and willing;
our powder is dry
from these many months at sea.
Master: Thou jesteth; sea air makes no drouth.
Mate: Nay, but you are the jester;
have you not seen when our men come ashore,
how easy the flash sparks from their guns?
Master: Fool, here is no laughing matter.
We make ready for such a battle
as the world has not seen before;
and thou speak'st of women?
'Tis worthy of a soft Roman,
not a warrior of the North.
Mate: I may jest;
when saw you me shrink from battle?
The pursuit of women
suits well a soldier;
unless 'tis football,
no pastime is so like
our warrior's art.
Master: How reckon'st thou this?
Mate: Why, 'tis plain!
(As he speaks, the seamen cease their work and crowd around to listen.)
Consider : A woman is a fortress;
an' she be not taken by sudden assault,
months may pass in the long siege.
A strong commissariat
doth the lover also require;
when was woman wooed
without gold and roses?
Then, when the action's joined,
a most dextrous skill
shall soon be drilled
into the recruit;
the man who uses not both hands
will not see his second field.
The ramrod's use must the lover
diligently study;
and howsoever large a gun
a man may boast
- I speak here from experience -
'twill avail him naught, an' he aim it wrong.
The cock of a pistol, the rattle of balls
delights both soldier and lover;
but, an' your halberd be not blocked by armour,
your pleasure may be untimely cut short.
But hark, the ship's bell rings
all hands on deck;
our captain will address us.
Master: I hope his address may be
as cheering as that which thou hast here expounded.
Exit all
Act I, Scene III
The ship's deck. The Flag-Captain addresses the ranks.
Flag-Captain: Now shall the years of our oppression
be turned to glorious rule
by this present battle.
Westward lies the foe, the Spaniard dog,
secure in the tyranny
of his multitude of ships.
But as prosperous days
may make man or country
unfit for war,
so have our pains taught us zeal for the work,
and such a fleet as is now assembled
did Norway never oppose to any foe.
Beside us sail English warships;
well do you know their strength
who fought at Dogger Bank!
But the idle Spaniard,
who whiles away the days
in pursuit of heathen women,
shall this day come to rue
the stab he gave us in that conflict.
Vengeance, they say,
is a dish best eaten cold;
ten years have passed
for the cooling of ours,
and yet we shall serve it
hot and sweet to our former ally.
And we gain this victory,
all the empire
on which the sun never sets
lies at our feet;
the gold if the Incas,
the dusky maidens of Africa,
the pearls of the Orient :
How shall these be defended,
if we but conquer the Spanish fleet?
Therefore, give no thought
to aught but victory;
your very mothers would spit on the son
that came home defeated.
Run out your guns!
The foe approaches.
A last word : If, in the heat of battle,
a friend should stand before your gun's mouth,
in the path of the shot
that will kill a Spaniard
- spare not your fire.
Each shot that strikes home
to the death of a tyrant
is victory enough.
Go! Norway demands that every man shall do his duty today!
Gunner's Mate (aside) : Why, I dare say I have never done less than my duty,
nor has any man lived long, who accused me of it.
Master Gunner: Silence, fool! The foe draws nigh;
And thou dost but continue in thy vaunted course,
none shall reproach thee;
why borrow trouble
where none is intended?
See to thy guns.
Exit all
Act II, Scene I
The gundeck; cannon lie tumbled, and dying men are everywhere. Several beams lie shattered and broken; there is wild confusion.
Enter the Master Gunner.
Master Gunner (stentorian): Avast, ye scurvy sea dogs!
This disorder becomes not
men of the north.
(To a gunner)
That cannon is spent; do thou tumble it overboard,
that we may not stumble on't.
That task done, run thee to the magazine,
and ask there why we lack powder;
bring back a barrel, or thy back shall answer for it.
(Seizing a man tending to a comrade)
Leave him; his life's his own,
but thou canst yet kill a Spaniard;
'twere a service, an' I am any judge,
better than any thou hast yet rendered our fleet.
Go thou, and join that crew
that labours so mightily with their gun;
thy strong back can remedy
the death of their comrade.
Enter the Gunner's Mate.
Master Gunner: How now, mate?
what news of the battle?
Mate: As to that, I know not;
this infernal smoke hides from me
all but the closest foemen.
But the Captain sends me to bring word:
To port lies the Santissima Trinidad,
of seventy-four; her gundeck is stove in, her mast broken.
To starboard Francisco d'Assisi
- 'tis only a Spaniard would name a man'o'war for such a saint -
her colour flutters seaward.
Victory rewards your sacrifice!
Wild cheering
Exit all
Act II, Scene II
The forecastle. The Admiral and his Flag-Captain stand with their officers; they discuss the battle with a Messenger.
Messenger: My lords, I bring word.
The foe presses hard on our seaward flank;
Conqueror and Colossus are taken,
on Bellerophon the boarders hold fo'c'sle and gundeck.
Here you hold victory
firmly in your grasp;
send us then such ships as you can spare,
to our succour.
Flag-Captain: Shall Norwegian lives answer for English failings?
Messenger: An' they do not,
so may the God of Hosts help me,
Norwegian cowardice must answer for Spanish victory.
Flag-Captain: Let it be even as you say;
our ship is spent, her gundeck cleared twice over;
what powder remains is taken from our vanquished foe.
What help should we be on your flank?
Messenger: Then send others;
has the pride and the power no ships to spare?
Admiral: Not a one;
on our front all lie closely engaged,
or beat away battered from the vanquished foe.
I have myself seen three ships
be lost to the ravening flame,
when the foeman cleared their decks
and the marine came aboard bearing torches.
Flag-Captain: And yet there are some -
Admiral (interrupting): Nay, speak not of that!
Fight thy ship, good Captain,
and leave to me the judgement
of who shall be called to fight.
Thy task is smaller than mine;
seek not to look beyond its bounds,
lest the burden prove too heavy.
Come, we are victorious here;
gather our sisters, good Hauk
and powerful Fram,
and let us to the aid of our allies.
Exit all
Act II, Scene III
Again the forecastle. Wounded officers lie groaning; a broken mast splits the scene in two. The Flag-Captain lies stricken; the Admiral holds his head.
Flag-Captain: I have fought my ship as well as a man may do;
nor she, nor I can fight further.
Admiral: Yet we must; the foe comes 'round
our seaward side,
and our rear lies naked to his assault.
Flag-Captain: Do you then take arms
with your pistol, against a man'o'war?
For I warrant, 'tis the only firearm aboard
that may yet do harm to a Spaniard,
though he were only an aged dotard.
Admiral (casting wildly about for a solution): Nay, but cutlass and pike
may yet win battles for old Norway;
an Yngling is worth many a stril.
Come, call for boarders, and let us away.
Flag-Captain: Shall we out oars,
like a galley of old?
A ship dismasted is like an elephant unlegged:
It stays where 'tis put, whosoever shall command otherwise.
Nay, m'lord, seek not in heaven for your answer;
'tis not to be found there.
Only one thing may yet have the power
to avert defeat; give but the order,
and Long Serpent, Eidsvold, and Norge
come to our aid.
Admiral (to himself): He is right; and yet,
how shall I bear to call my sons to these straits?
Nay, that is but cowardice speaking
- manfully, Trygve; today many fathers' sons
have spilt their blood to the waters.
The Power and the Pride,
they call us in Bergen;
such title is not lightly won
- it must be taken at hazard.
And after all they are only Spaniards;
my sons command stout ships
- surely they shall come through the danger.
(Firmly; he has convinced himself.)
Aye, it must be so.
(To a Signaller)
Ahoy, there : Send forth this message.
Call Long Serpent, Eidsvold, and Norge to this flank.
Exit all
Act III, Scene II
The gundeck; order is restored. The Master Gunner looks out of an open gunport; he speaks with the Gunner's Mate.
Gunner's Mate: We'll take no further part of this action;
no powder remains, either wet or dry.
Master Gunner: Aye; but we have fought well;
victory or defeat, we have known no shame today.
Mate: 'Tis in war as in love:
When the battle's over, you regret not its course,
so be it that you stuck firm to your guns.
Master: Hush, fool, this battle's not ended;
I see the Lion Rampant through the fog.
Mate (aside): Aye; when 'tis not rampant,
the battle's ended indeed.
Master: Now I know the ship; 'tis the Long Serpent.
An hundred and twenty guns;
aye, and of the new calibre.
Hark, her broadside - would I had unleashed
such a power on my foes!
Mate: There are some ashore who have no cause
to complain of my broadsides.
I ween the Spaniard will take it less well.
Master: Here comes another; what name's on her bow?
The fog clears, I know her - 'tis Eidsvold,
named for that city
where the elders sit at Ting.
Less deliberate than her namesake she!
An hundred guns; her foretops glisten
with musket barrels.
Nay, now they burst forth in flame.
I trow her victim knows her fury!
Mate: We've known fury enough today.
Master: Aye, and I rejoice to see it revisited.
But look you, here comes yet another.
I knew not we had such an arrow to our quiver.
Mate: I know an arrow that's set many a lady a-quiver.
Master (ignoring him): A bonny sight - an hundred and forty guns if she has a one!
I know but one such ship
in any fleet; Norge it is,
the fatherland's ship!
Mate: From Finland I; 'tis a motherland where I've visited,
allowing only I be nine months gone.
Master: There; they sally. Will the foe stand?
Nay - they turn, they flee!
There is no heart in them to face such power.
A flag falls; another - the day is ours.
Mate: 'Tis well; I trust I may then
have many more nights for mine own.
Exit both
Act III, Scene III
The forecastle; the mast has been cleared, and the wounded removed. The Admiral holds colloquy with several Officers.
Admiral: What news?
1st Officer: The day is ours;
three prizes have I taken. The landward flank
lies strewn with wrecks.
2nd Officer: My ship has burnt;
a prize I took, and therefrom fought.
Two flags have struck to me this day.
3rd Officer: The foeman flees;
a fair wind bears him north.
Admiral: It is well;
but what of our seaward flank,
where fight Long Serpent, Eidsvold, and Norge?
1st Officer: They have borne themselves well;
the gap our foes there sought
is now closed with their choking wreckage.
Admiral: And what of our ships?
2nd Officer: I saw Norge;
battered, but unbowed.
Her wounds were to the fore;
Her captain, I heard, stood proud in the fo'c'sle
until a scything broadside threw him down.
Yet not unavenged went he to Valhall;
Santa Anna is our prize, her crew fed to the sea.
Admiral (whispering): Aye... so be it her wounds were to the fore.
3rd Officer: Eidsvold, I know,
lay alongside Monarca.
A rolling broadside she laid on her target;
the cowardly Spaniard could not reply.
Yet too great was her fury; a fire,
started in the Spaniard's decks,
soon spread; overmastering th' embattled ships,
it reached her powder. I saw no more.
Admiral (ashen): A fitting end for a man of war. Yet what... what news of the Long Serpent?
What news of my youngest son?
1st Officer: Firm stands the Long Serpent.
But fallen is Olav, Trygve's son.
Admiral (bows his head): So I stand alone?
Storm-ribbed? A bare-stripped tree, broken its branches.
2nd Officer: I fear me there is small comfort
for such a case; yet recall,
their wounds were always to the fore.
They will have no mean place in Valhall.
Admiral: Aye, aye, you speak true.
And we have today won such a victory
as shall ring down the decades.
And yet... O my sons!
Curtain falls.
I stand in quiet awe of your literary mastAARpiece, KoM. Sadly, I'm not idjucat'd enough to pick out the ibsen reference.
Sadly, I'm not idjucat'd enough to pick out the ibsen reference.
I checked out some website with Henrik Ibsens samlede vaerker. I take it its the right person at least but I cant read Norwegian very good so I couldnt find any resembling a reference.
Althoug my guess would be this part.
Althoug my guess would be this part.
May 17, 1776
Olaf Kyrre Street, Bergen
The drums were continuous, overwhelming. They shattered all attempt at speech or thought; but the men lining the street, and watching from every window, had no desire for that. Their cheers formed a vast, rolling counterpoint to the drums, swelling as each new regiment marched up the street towards the ships that would carry them south. Flashes of red-and-gold were everywhere; children, released from their units for the occasion, ran about, swinging flags with the Lion Rampant blazing on them, and bunting hang from every house. The black uniforms formed a splendid backdrop, giving the flags the look of fireworks on a night sky.
The regiments that had been given the honour of marching thus fully-formed to their ships were the finest of the Ynglinga Hird; tall, shaggy men two years into their three years' service. They fairly strutted with the vigour of their youth and power; there was not a man among them who could not run twenty miles in full gear, and fight a battle afterwards. The money that maintained their drill was squeezed from continents, and it showed. They had each, from the age of five, run daily courses of miles, lifted heavy weights, sparred with every weapon from bare hands to muskets. Now, in the first full flush of their manhood, they were a magnificent sight, marching with the deadly grace and pride of wolves. Their faces showed the same confidence and joy that the cheering watchers displayed; they had trained for this moment all their lives, and now at last the time had come to use their skill and strength.
The war opened with the combined English and Norwegian fleets, together slightly outnumbering the Spanish, taking their station off Valencia and daring the Armada Real to come out and fight. This challenge was promptly answered, the Spaniards knowing as well as their foes that command of the sea would be utterly vital in a war fought across all the continents. The resulting battle, prepared for long years by the full strength of nations, and fought by men not yet worn down by the long strains of war, was a slaughter of immense proportions. It is estimated that of the three thousand or so ships which took part, more than half were burnt or scuttled; or in other words, fully a third of the world's tonnage of warships was destroyed in a single day. And yet for all its fury, the battle was not decisive; the Spanish fleet, much reduced in number, escaped, to hole up for a while in Tangiers. A close blockade of that port enabled Norwegian and English ships to dominate the Atlantic, which for a while gave rise to a considerable advantage in the African campaign; but imperial commitments against Spain's Pacific fleet eventually led to the withdrawal of the English blockaders, and the subsequent breakout of the Armada.
Breakout battles. Alas, I wasn't quick enough to get a screenie of battles with 1500 warships on each side.
The war on land, meanwhile, was equally bloody and indecisive. Thrusting across the Pyrenees, Burgundian and English troops at first had considerable success in their attack towards Madrid; but full Spanish mobilisation, together with guerrilla risings in their rear and the difficulty of supply across the Pyrenees, soon compelled them to withdraw. The Iberian front then took on a curiously modern aspect, lacking only machine guns and barbed wire; the passes of the Pyrenees, offering only a short frontage on which practical attacks could be made, lent themselves easily to fortification and defense in depth. Trench lines multiplied, as did futile attacks upon them; of the million men who are estimated to have died in the war, approximately two-thirds fell here, in attacks that rarely moved the front by more than a few miles.
An early stage of the Iberian campaign. Note that Spanish and Burgundian flags are identical! But you can tell the difference by the uniforms. Here the Burgundians seem to have the advantage, and indeed they managed to press inland a few provinces. It's not going to last.
Norwegian troops took little part in this campaign, both for practical reasons of supply - there were sharp limits on how tightly armies could be packed into provinces fed only by horse and cart - and because the Yngling commanders saw no advantage to throwing their troops into such a caldron. A strong detachment was sent to form a reserve against any gaps opening in the Burgundian line; but in the main, the staff at Håkon's Hall were quite content to let the occupiers of Holstein do the bleeding. Meanwhile, taking advantage of the absence of the Spanish fleet, a vigorous campaign was waged along the western coast of Africa; however, the numerous Spanish colonial garrisons proved able to defend the line of the River Zaire, and the rich prizes of the Moroccan coast eluded the Yngling grasp.
The African campaign. It is to be admitted that the fighting here is on a slightly smaller scale. Fortunately, that's just where Yngling training and initiative shows to its best advantage! Throwing masses of troops at well-fortified mountain passes we leave to the other Powers. In this case, the Spaniards are about to reinforce their garrison with the 17k troops hiding in Nouakchott; but a brilliantly executed fighting retreat will prevent them from pushing their advantage, and the front will settle along the Zaire.
A second effort was prevented by the conjunction of two events : First, the Spanish fleet's breaking out from Tangiers, which stopped all shipments of reinforcements and supplies from the Norwegian colonies on the Gold Coast; and second, the entry of Poland into the war.
This seeming triumph of Spanish diplomacy, in fact, proved the turning point of the war for Norway, although not in the sense its authors intended. With the opening of a Baltic front, close to the centers of Yngling strength, the full power of the Ynglinga Hird could at last be unleashed. The wide-open spaces of the Polish plain offered a scope for action which neither the deadlocked Iberian front, nor colonial campaigns with all their difficulty of supply, could equal; the massive reserves that had been mobilised in Scandinavia were thus offered a splendid target for their attack. The Poles, obligingly advancing three strong columns into Germany to invest the Burgundian holdings there, found their supply lines cut off by the sudden appearance of Norwegian armies rapidly shipped across the Baltic. (The Polish Navy, to the extent that it existed, stuck throughout the campaign to its colonial ports, conceding uncontested use of the Baltic - a strategic advantage the Ynglings used to its utmost.) A scrambling retreat through Bohemia saved half the force the Poles had used for their initial attacks, but could not halt the momentum of the Yngling advance; the Polish army did not regroup until it had crossed the Vistula, three hundred miles east and after losing a desperate battle for Warsaw.
The defenses of that fortress city, once a bastion in the long feud between Piast and Yngling, had become outmoded, and it fell in three days to modern guns and the ferocity of an Yngling assault into the breaches. The sack that followed was notable for its ferocity even by the rough standards of the day. If this was intended to overawe and cause the Poles to surrender from terror, it failed signally of its purpose; Polish records of the time make it clear that the sack of Warsaw was a major factor in convincing the people to fight on, and indeed a new army was swiftly raised from the vast Ukrainian and Siberian domains of the Polish crown. However, it seems more likely that the sack was simply the result of the Yngling troops' impatience with their commander's attempt to curtail their traditional privileges in the field. The sufferings of Warsaw can thus be viewed as the fallout of an internal power struggle in the Yngling army - a power struggle won decisively by the traditionalists in the lower ranks, since it proved impossible to punish so large a number of looters and rapists. The modernisation movement that had been advocating the adoption of Laws of War - perhaps as a prelude to loosening the restrictions on the strils, the Laws of War being loosely based on contemporary notions of the Rights of Man - was thus effectively shattered in its first real test .
Initial stages of the Polish campaign.
Second stage, after the Poles scrape together a new army. It's not as bad as it looks, the 41k men in Vorpommern are about to be joined by another 60k or so being built in Jylland and Sjælland.
Third stage; by this time I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel for manpower, but stab-hitting the Poles every month. Rebellions everywhere!
Notwithstanding brave Polish efforts at raising new armies, which did indeed for a time retake the ruins of Warsaw, the outcome was never in doubt after such a disastrous opening campaign; enthusiastic raw recruits were no match for the well-trained and well-equipped Ynglinga Hird, which cut apart the Polish armies in battle after battle. Nonetheless, that perennial concern of Norwegian warfare, lack of manpower, was again rearing its head. The initial high level of mobilisation was proving difficult to maintain, as obligatory terms of service ran out and disease took its toll in the Polish winter; and even where the Poles lost, they always sold their lives dearly. Although the situation was not yet critical, sober voices pointed out that Poland was a sideshow, and that Spain remained a formidable adversary; a widely published calculation showed that, if the Polish campaign were continued for two more years, the Ynglings would find themselves in the uncomfortable position of either recruiting widely among the strils, with all the attendant dangers, or else arming the women of the ruling class to fight. Indeed, the latter proposition was seriously discussed in the Ting, as being the best means of bringing Poland to its knees. Eventually, however, this plan was abandoned and a compromise peace arrived at, whereby Norway regained Brandenburg, took Bohemia, and the African border was moved a few hundred miles. (The new borderline gives one the impression that the negotiators finally drew a pen more or less at hazard through Africa, perhaps as compensation for Poland retaining Memel - long a contentious issue at the conference.)
The center of gravity of the war thus turned westward, as troops freed from garrison and combat in Poland were shipped across the now-friendly Atlantic...
Olaf Kyrre Street, Bergen
The drums were continuous, overwhelming. They shattered all attempt at speech or thought; but the men lining the street, and watching from every window, had no desire for that. Their cheers formed a vast, rolling counterpoint to the drums, swelling as each new regiment marched up the street towards the ships that would carry them south. Flashes of red-and-gold were everywhere; children, released from their units for the occasion, ran about, swinging flags with the Lion Rampant blazing on them, and bunting hang from every house. The black uniforms formed a splendid backdrop, giving the flags the look of fireworks on a night sky.
The regiments that had been given the honour of marching thus fully-formed to their ships were the finest of the Ynglinga Hird; tall, shaggy men two years into their three years' service. They fairly strutted with the vigour of their youth and power; there was not a man among them who could not run twenty miles in full gear, and fight a battle afterwards. The money that maintained their drill was squeezed from continents, and it showed. They had each, from the age of five, run daily courses of miles, lifted heavy weights, sparred with every weapon from bare hands to muskets. Now, in the first full flush of their manhood, they were a magnificent sight, marching with the deadly grace and pride of wolves. Their faces showed the same confidence and joy that the cheering watchers displayed; they had trained for this moment all their lives, and now at last the time had come to use their skill and strength.
----------------------------------------------------
The war opened with the combined English and Norwegian fleets, together slightly outnumbering the Spanish, taking their station off Valencia and daring the Armada Real to come out and fight. This challenge was promptly answered, the Spaniards knowing as well as their foes that command of the sea would be utterly vital in a war fought across all the continents. The resulting battle, prepared for long years by the full strength of nations, and fought by men not yet worn down by the long strains of war, was a slaughter of immense proportions. It is estimated that of the three thousand or so ships which took part, more than half were burnt or scuttled; or in other words, fully a third of the world's tonnage of warships was destroyed in a single day. And yet for all its fury, the battle was not decisive; the Spanish fleet, much reduced in number, escaped, to hole up for a while in Tangiers. A close blockade of that port enabled Norwegian and English ships to dominate the Atlantic, which for a while gave rise to a considerable advantage in the African campaign; but imperial commitments against Spain's Pacific fleet eventually led to the withdrawal of the English blockaders, and the subsequent breakout of the Armada.
Breakout battles. Alas, I wasn't quick enough to get a screenie of battles with 1500 warships on each side.
The war on land, meanwhile, was equally bloody and indecisive. Thrusting across the Pyrenees, Burgundian and English troops at first had considerable success in their attack towards Madrid; but full Spanish mobilisation, together with guerrilla risings in their rear and the difficulty of supply across the Pyrenees, soon compelled them to withdraw. The Iberian front then took on a curiously modern aspect, lacking only machine guns and barbed wire; the passes of the Pyrenees, offering only a short frontage on which practical attacks could be made, lent themselves easily to fortification and defense in depth. Trench lines multiplied, as did futile attacks upon them; of the million men who are estimated to have died in the war, approximately two-thirds fell here, in attacks that rarely moved the front by more than a few miles.
An early stage of the Iberian campaign. Note that Spanish and Burgundian flags are identical! But you can tell the difference by the uniforms. Here the Burgundians seem to have the advantage, and indeed they managed to press inland a few provinces. It's not going to last.
Norwegian troops took little part in this campaign, both for practical reasons of supply - there were sharp limits on how tightly armies could be packed into provinces fed only by horse and cart - and because the Yngling commanders saw no advantage to throwing their troops into such a caldron. A strong detachment was sent to form a reserve against any gaps opening in the Burgundian line; but in the main, the staff at Håkon's Hall were quite content to let the occupiers of Holstein do the bleeding. Meanwhile, taking advantage of the absence of the Spanish fleet, a vigorous campaign was waged along the western coast of Africa; however, the numerous Spanish colonial garrisons proved able to defend the line of the River Zaire, and the rich prizes of the Moroccan coast eluded the Yngling grasp.
The African campaign. It is to be admitted that the fighting here is on a slightly smaller scale. Fortunately, that's just where Yngling training and initiative shows to its best advantage! Throwing masses of troops at well-fortified mountain passes we leave to the other Powers. In this case, the Spaniards are about to reinforce their garrison with the 17k troops hiding in Nouakchott; but a brilliantly executed fighting retreat will prevent them from pushing their advantage, and the front will settle along the Zaire.
A second effort was prevented by the conjunction of two events : First, the Spanish fleet's breaking out from Tangiers, which stopped all shipments of reinforcements and supplies from the Norwegian colonies on the Gold Coast; and second, the entry of Poland into the war.
This seeming triumph of Spanish diplomacy, in fact, proved the turning point of the war for Norway, although not in the sense its authors intended. With the opening of a Baltic front, close to the centers of Yngling strength, the full power of the Ynglinga Hird could at last be unleashed. The wide-open spaces of the Polish plain offered a scope for action which neither the deadlocked Iberian front, nor colonial campaigns with all their difficulty of supply, could equal; the massive reserves that had been mobilised in Scandinavia were thus offered a splendid target for their attack. The Poles, obligingly advancing three strong columns into Germany to invest the Burgundian holdings there, found their supply lines cut off by the sudden appearance of Norwegian armies rapidly shipped across the Baltic. (The Polish Navy, to the extent that it existed, stuck throughout the campaign to its colonial ports, conceding uncontested use of the Baltic - a strategic advantage the Ynglings used to its utmost.) A scrambling retreat through Bohemia saved half the force the Poles had used for their initial attacks, but could not halt the momentum of the Yngling advance; the Polish army did not regroup until it had crossed the Vistula, three hundred miles east and after losing a desperate battle for Warsaw.
The defenses of that fortress city, once a bastion in the long feud between Piast and Yngling, had become outmoded, and it fell in three days to modern guns and the ferocity of an Yngling assault into the breaches. The sack that followed was notable for its ferocity even by the rough standards of the day. If this was intended to overawe and cause the Poles to surrender from terror, it failed signally of its purpose; Polish records of the time make it clear that the sack of Warsaw was a major factor in convincing the people to fight on, and indeed a new army was swiftly raised from the vast Ukrainian and Siberian domains of the Polish crown. However, it seems more likely that the sack was simply the result of the Yngling troops' impatience with their commander's attempt to curtail their traditional privileges in the field. The sufferings of Warsaw can thus be viewed as the fallout of an internal power struggle in the Yngling army - a power struggle won decisively by the traditionalists in the lower ranks, since it proved impossible to punish so large a number of looters and rapists. The modernisation movement that had been advocating the adoption of Laws of War - perhaps as a prelude to loosening the restrictions on the strils, the Laws of War being loosely based on contemporary notions of the Rights of Man - was thus effectively shattered in its first real test .
Initial stages of the Polish campaign.
Second stage, after the Poles scrape together a new army. It's not as bad as it looks, the 41k men in Vorpommern are about to be joined by another 60k or so being built in Jylland and Sjælland.
Third stage; by this time I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel for manpower, but stab-hitting the Poles every month. Rebellions everywhere!
Notwithstanding brave Polish efforts at raising new armies, which did indeed for a time retake the ruins of Warsaw, the outcome was never in doubt after such a disastrous opening campaign; enthusiastic raw recruits were no match for the well-trained and well-equipped Ynglinga Hird, which cut apart the Polish armies in battle after battle. Nonetheless, that perennial concern of Norwegian warfare, lack of manpower, was again rearing its head. The initial high level of mobilisation was proving difficult to maintain, as obligatory terms of service ran out and disease took its toll in the Polish winter; and even where the Poles lost, they always sold their lives dearly. Although the situation was not yet critical, sober voices pointed out that Poland was a sideshow, and that Spain remained a formidable adversary; a widely published calculation showed that, if the Polish campaign were continued for two more years, the Ynglings would find themselves in the uncomfortable position of either recruiting widely among the strils, with all the attendant dangers, or else arming the women of the ruling class to fight. Indeed, the latter proposition was seriously discussed in the Ting, as being the best means of bringing Poland to its knees. Eventually, however, this plan was abandoned and a compromise peace arrived at, whereby Norway regained Brandenburg, took Bohemia, and the African border was moved a few hundred miles. (The new borderline gives one the impression that the negotiators finally drew a pen more or less at hazard through Africa, perhaps as compensation for Poland retaining Memel - long a contentious issue at the conference.)
The center of gravity of the war thus turned westward, as troops freed from garrison and combat in Poland were shipped across the now-friendly Atlantic...
From Berserker to Battleship : Norway 1066-1920
, Bergenhus University Press.
You're quite a Jack of All AAR Styles, KoM - from usual AAR in-game narratives and history books to Norse sagas, fairy tales, movie scripts and now - a play (and a good one at that, sadly I didn't found any Ibsen refferences neither...)! I dare you to write an epic poem!
Very insightful war report, though Valencia strikes me as a somewhat strange place for a battle (or rather, what is odd is that you managed to get into the Mediterranean - did you do that pre-war?). Curious "trench war" in the Pyrenees, too. The flag problem seems rather confusing.
Also, on recruiting Yngling women - do it! Valkyries are a must-have in any Scandinavian war machine!
Very insightful war report, though Valencia strikes me as a somewhat strange place for a battle (or rather, what is odd is that you managed to get into the Mediterranean - did you do that pre-war?). Curious "trench war" in the Pyrenees, too. The flag problem seems rather confusing.
Also, on recruiting Yngling women - do it!
Valkyries are a must-have in any Scandinavian war machine!
Yes, well, in 700 years of AAR, with about 15 years an installment on average, I can either vary the style, stop writing, or go mad. MAD, I tell you! Anyway, I write as the spirit takes me. Moving the fleets off Valencia was our final preparation for the war; Ego very obligingly came right out of the port as soon as we DOWed. Maybe he didn't see our fleet? Or there again, maybe he wanted an immediate, decisive battle. To be sure, his situation could not have gotten much better by staying in; we could have built fleets from all our ports to reinforce the blockaders, while his main fleet could only gain strength from Valencia.
Seems the AAR forum isn't so up on Ibsen, or maybe I was being obscure. Well, I admit it's not his best-known play, but 'Hærmendene på Helgeland' (Roughly, 'Vikings at Helgeland') has a plot with some similarities, hence I thought of my title as a play on his. With very nearly alliteration! (Come to think on it, maybe 'Vikings off Valencia' would have been better? I think I prefer 'Warrior', though.)
Marcus, since you ask so nicely... Half an hour, please.
Moving the fleets off Valencia was our final preparation for the war; Ego very obligingly came right out of the port as soon as we DOWed. Maybe he didn't see our fleet? Or there again, maybe he wanted an immediate, decisive battle. To be sure, his situation could not have gotten much better by staying in; we could have built fleets from all our ports to reinforce the blockaders, while his main fleet could only gain strength from Valencia. Seems the AAR forum isn't so up on Ibsen, or maybe I was being obscure. Well, I admit it's not his best-known play, but 'Hærmendene på Helgeland' (Roughly, 'Vikings at Helgeland') has a plot with some similarities, hence I thought of my title as a play on his. With very nearly alliteration! (Come to think on it, maybe 'Vikings off Valencia' would have been better? I think I prefer 'Warrior', though.)
Marcus, since you ask so nicely... Half an hour, please.