Greetings AARland! This is going to be an AAR about a minor Angle lord around the year 500, some 50 years after the Romans left Britain.
The Burning Isles will be the successor to an AAR I wrote for M2TW called The Tin Isles, based on a mod for post-Roman Britain. I grew up with Rome and Medieval II Total War, and only recently started playing CKII, but I love the complexity, politics, and personal storylines that can develop
The Tin Isles was written about a Romano-British Kingdom in northern Britain, after the Romans left (450-460 AD). Using the Winter King mod for Crusader Kings 2 and the character creator I've added in the main character from The Tin Isles (he's dead at this point) and his family. Not a perfect match, but close enough I'd say. This post will contain important info as I think of it; the next will have the beginning of the introduction.
This AAR is also posted on twcenter, I was just waiting to get some momenttum before posting it here.
After I finish the prologue, which will be told primarily through the journal entries of the main character's grandmother to provide the background of the main story, the AAR is going to be told in a narrative fashion. I'll be looking for any criticism on the writing people feel like giving out, so please feel free to drop a comment, suggestion, complaint, or what have you!
The journals will run from 487 until 515 when the narrative of my main character will start
Requests for additoinal info will be handled to the best of my ability (and depending on how time and spoilers allow!), and once the narrative portion begins I will add a table of contents
Additional info:
Mods: The Winter King (duh): sets the game in post Roman Britain, Gaul, Denmark and Nordic Peninsula
- Blind and Castrate for All: I like my Dark Ages to be Dark
- Declare Friends and Rivals: for RP purposes
- Bloodlines: marks descendants of famous (prestigious) people
- Playing on v 2.6.2 with pretty much all DLC
Personal rules: I won't savescum, which is why the tale is told from the point of view of a spirit in Valhalla - if my character loses something or dies, that's it! Depending on what he accomplishes I may or may not continue on as his successor
There will be some minor cheating - almost never to benefit my character, but to benefit the story and realistic scenarios that could develop
Pics: Screenshots will come from a variety of sources, some from CKII, some from Total War Attila, some from Mount and Blade Warband (Brytenwalda mod), and will be used as a supplement to the story
Updates were initially sporadic as I was graduating, then on vacation and visiting family, then starting a new job, but things are settling down now so I should be posting more regularly (as of July 17th) aiming for a rate of 1-2 updates per week
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Introduction, The Shade
After a full day of fighting, the sun seemed no closer to setting than it had at the onset. A great horn was blown, and the two groups of warriors backed away from each other, cheering themselves and boasting of their deeds once they were a safe distance away. They strutted about the swirling mists, and mocked their foes. Then, as the mist thickened, the fallen rose from their scattered positions about the field to congratulate their vanquishers. Yet still the mist thickened, and this eventually silenced the revelers, and all eyes turned to watch where the fog grew the thickest. Weapons and severed limbs and heads were clutched tightly in anticipation, and far in the distance the death-cries of a wyrm could be heard.
From that darkening of the mist a shape began to coalesce. An amorphous blob at first, it soon elongated, gathering its nebulous suroundings into itself even as four tendrils began to extend outward from it. A short time – or an eternity? – later, those tendrils had thickened into the appendages of a man, and a head had formed as well.
Now black as night, the cloud-shade unfolded itself from the mist and took a tentative step, the blades of grass passing unperturbed through its foot. At the next step beads of dew were left on the grass; at the next after that they were flattened.
The Shade looked up and as its head swayed across the crowd of warriors watching it, the swirling patterns across its face began to settle into distinguishable facial features: dark eyebrows, high cheekbones and a strong chin. It raised a hand before its face, slowly moving its fingers before looking up to stare at the crowd before it.
At long last, a great burly warrior strode forward, arms outspread. “Welcome to Valhalla brother,” he thundered. “Come, tell us your story!”
The being cocked its head, then began to speak. Slowly and softly at first, its voice like an autumn breeze, it began its story, and as it spoke its voice slowly grew in richness and warmth.
"The Romans, when they came to these isles of Britain, did them no great favors. They came, they plundered, they ruled, they left, and when they left they took with them the cream of the Britisc youth. And so denuded of her defenses Britannia came under attack from the Pictavi to the north, the Germanii from the east, the Gaels from the west, and even the Franks from the south.
The Romans, when their own people could not or would not fight to defend themselves, sought to hire others to do so for them. Thus the first of my people were brought over to the litus Saxonicum, to defend the Romans in return for land. When the Romans wholly abandoned the Britons, their King Vortigern sent for more Angles and Seaxe to defend his borders and even his own person, for he was an unpopular ruler. My people fought along the length and breadth of the land at his behest, and what were they given in return? Starvation on some miserable islets.
A man who pays others to fight his battles should take care not to provoke them, lest he find himself facing their spears, not behind them. Genseric, Alaric, the dreaded Attila – all were foederati that rose up against the maltreatment they received from their Roman overlords. For us it was Hengist and Horsa and Aesc who overthrew the tyrant Vortigern and seized the eastern portion of the island. They did this with such ease that many of their kin left their homelands to claim the fertile lands of Britain.
While the South was fractured and largely occupied with fighting itself, the North of Britain briefly retained a measure of stability. Under Coel Hen it survived as a single entity, but not for long, and this is where a part of my backstory comes in. Coel Hen’s son Ceneu had four sons: Dunawt, bastard-born; Mor, his heir; and Gwrast and Caswallon. My grandmother Aeronwen a Y Strafi was Dunawt’s youngest daughter, and it is only due to her meddling with my upbringing that I learned to read; I suspect she was bored. Whatever her reasons, it enabled me to read two important pieces of writing: her journal, kept after her departure from the Romano-British lands of the north for Ænglaland, and that of Brother Mabon, a monk who accompanied my great grandfather and recorded his exploits*.
Mabon’s work can be summarized in three parts: in the first, Mor and Dunawt seek to avenge the deaths of their father and cousin Gwrast (not their brother Gwrast), and then seek to rebuild the power of the northern British. In this they are successful, but Mor becomes jealous of Dunawt’s success, for Dunawt led an army that hovered between two and three thousands to victory against the northern tribes in a series of battles in which he was nearly always outnumbered, sometimes facing armies that could muster more than twice his strength of numbers. In the second part, Mor and Dunawt seek to expand southward, which they do, but Mor and one of his closest supporters, Magnus Archill, murder Dunawt. In the third and final part, Dunawt’s eldest son and his supporters rebel against King Mor. Mor and the son both died during the war, and the North fractures into many kingdoms once again.
These events seem to have driven Father Mabon a little mad, but he retained the presence of mind to smuggle Aeronwen and Mor the Younger, Dunawt’s youngest daughter and son, to Rheged, then ruled by their uncle Gwrast, although they took refuge at the court of a lesser chief. Aeronwen was eventually wed to my grandfather, and I shall recount her more important journal entries here, to spare you the inanities of a teenage girl and to focus on the struggles between the Angles and Seax against the Romans, and between themselves. Then, with my world fleshed out to you, I will be able to begin my story..."
And here is a map of the times, around the year 505. The journal entries start in 489. The purples, reds, and red-oranges in the east of Britain represent the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms, with the Britons to the north and west.
The Burning Isles will be the successor to an AAR I wrote for M2TW called The Tin Isles, based on a mod for post-Roman Britain. I grew up with Rome and Medieval II Total War, and only recently started playing CKII, but I love the complexity, politics, and personal storylines that can develop
The Tin Isles was written about a Romano-British Kingdom in northern Britain, after the Romans left (450-460 AD). Using the Winter King mod for Crusader Kings 2 and the character creator I've added in the main character from The Tin Isles (he's dead at this point) and his family. Not a perfect match, but close enough I'd say. This post will contain important info as I think of it; the next will have the beginning of the introduction.
This AAR is also posted on twcenter, I was just waiting to get some momenttum before posting it here.
After I finish the prologue, which will be told primarily through the journal entries of the main character's grandmother to provide the background of the main story, the AAR is going to be told in a narrative fashion. I'll be looking for any criticism on the writing people feel like giving out, so please feel free to drop a comment, suggestion, complaint, or what have you!
The journals will run from 487 until 515 when the narrative of my main character will start
Requests for additoinal info will be handled to the best of my ability (and depending on how time and spoilers allow!), and once the narrative portion begins I will add a table of contents
Additional info:
Mods: The Winter King (duh): sets the game in post Roman Britain, Gaul, Denmark and Nordic Peninsula
- Blind and Castrate for All: I like my Dark Ages to be Dark
- Declare Friends and Rivals: for RP purposes
- Bloodlines: marks descendants of famous (prestigious) people
- Playing on v 2.6.2 with pretty much all DLC
Personal rules: I won't savescum, which is why the tale is told from the point of view of a spirit in Valhalla - if my character loses something or dies, that's it! Depending on what he accomplishes I may or may not continue on as his successor
There will be some minor cheating - almost never to benefit my character, but to benefit the story and realistic scenarios that could develop
Pics: Screenshots will come from a variety of sources, some from CKII, some from Total War Attila, some from Mount and Blade Warband (Brytenwalda mod), and will be used as a supplement to the story
Updates were initially sporadic as I was graduating, then on vacation and visiting family, then starting a new job, but things are settling down now so I should be posting more regularly (as of July 17th) aiming for a rate of 1-2 updates per week
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Introduction, The Shade
After a full day of fighting, the sun seemed no closer to setting than it had at the onset. A great horn was blown, and the two groups of warriors backed away from each other, cheering themselves and boasting of their deeds once they were a safe distance away. They strutted about the swirling mists, and mocked their foes. Then, as the mist thickened, the fallen rose from their scattered positions about the field to congratulate their vanquishers. Yet still the mist thickened, and this eventually silenced the revelers, and all eyes turned to watch where the fog grew the thickest. Weapons and severed limbs and heads were clutched tightly in anticipation, and far in the distance the death-cries of a wyrm could be heard.
From that darkening of the mist a shape began to coalesce. An amorphous blob at first, it soon elongated, gathering its nebulous suroundings into itself even as four tendrils began to extend outward from it. A short time – or an eternity? – later, those tendrils had thickened into the appendages of a man, and a head had formed as well.
Now black as night, the cloud-shade unfolded itself from the mist and took a tentative step, the blades of grass passing unperturbed through its foot. At the next step beads of dew were left on the grass; at the next after that they were flattened.
The Shade looked up and as its head swayed across the crowd of warriors watching it, the swirling patterns across its face began to settle into distinguishable facial features: dark eyebrows, high cheekbones and a strong chin. It raised a hand before its face, slowly moving its fingers before looking up to stare at the crowd before it.
At long last, a great burly warrior strode forward, arms outspread. “Welcome to Valhalla brother,” he thundered. “Come, tell us your story!”
The being cocked its head, then began to speak. Slowly and softly at first, its voice like an autumn breeze, it began its story, and as it spoke its voice slowly grew in richness and warmth.
"The Romans, when they came to these isles of Britain, did them no great favors. They came, they plundered, they ruled, they left, and when they left they took with them the cream of the Britisc youth. And so denuded of her defenses Britannia came under attack from the Pictavi to the north, the Germanii from the east, the Gaels from the west, and even the Franks from the south.
The Romans, when their own people could not or would not fight to defend themselves, sought to hire others to do so for them. Thus the first of my people were brought over to the litus Saxonicum, to defend the Romans in return for land. When the Romans wholly abandoned the Britons, their King Vortigern sent for more Angles and Seaxe to defend his borders and even his own person, for he was an unpopular ruler. My people fought along the length and breadth of the land at his behest, and what were they given in return? Starvation on some miserable islets.
A man who pays others to fight his battles should take care not to provoke them, lest he find himself facing their spears, not behind them. Genseric, Alaric, the dreaded Attila – all were foederati that rose up against the maltreatment they received from their Roman overlords. For us it was Hengist and Horsa and Aesc who overthrew the tyrant Vortigern and seized the eastern portion of the island. They did this with such ease that many of their kin left their homelands to claim the fertile lands of Britain.
While the South was fractured and largely occupied with fighting itself, the North of Britain briefly retained a measure of stability. Under Coel Hen it survived as a single entity, but not for long, and this is where a part of my backstory comes in. Coel Hen’s son Ceneu had four sons: Dunawt, bastard-born; Mor, his heir; and Gwrast and Caswallon. My grandmother Aeronwen a Y Strafi was Dunawt’s youngest daughter, and it is only due to her meddling with my upbringing that I learned to read; I suspect she was bored. Whatever her reasons, it enabled me to read two important pieces of writing: her journal, kept after her departure from the Romano-British lands of the north for Ænglaland, and that of Brother Mabon, a monk who accompanied my great grandfather and recorded his exploits*.
Mabon’s work can be summarized in three parts: in the first, Mor and Dunawt seek to avenge the deaths of their father and cousin Gwrast (not their brother Gwrast), and then seek to rebuild the power of the northern British. In this they are successful, but Mor becomes jealous of Dunawt’s success, for Dunawt led an army that hovered between two and three thousands to victory against the northern tribes in a series of battles in which he was nearly always outnumbered, sometimes facing armies that could muster more than twice his strength of numbers. In the second part, Mor and Dunawt seek to expand southward, which they do, but Mor and one of his closest supporters, Magnus Archill, murder Dunawt. In the third and final part, Dunawt’s eldest son and his supporters rebel against King Mor. Mor and the son both died during the war, and the North fractures into many kingdoms once again.
These events seem to have driven Father Mabon a little mad, but he retained the presence of mind to smuggle Aeronwen and Mor the Younger, Dunawt’s youngest daughter and son, to Rheged, then ruled by their uncle Gwrast, although they took refuge at the court of a lesser chief. Aeronwen was eventually wed to my grandfather, and I shall recount her more important journal entries here, to spare you the inanities of a teenage girl and to focus on the struggles between the Angles and Seax against the Romans, and between themselves. Then, with my world fleshed out to you, I will be able to begin my story..."
And here is a map of the times, around the year 505. The journal entries start in 489. The purples, reds, and red-oranges in the east of Britain represent the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms, with the Britons to the north and west.
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