Consecrated blood waters my fields: a Hvitserk megacampaign
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Seeing that, I'm reminded of one of the first AARs I read on these boards which used the phrase as a title. It was a brilliant piece of writing, should you ever have a bit of time spare and wish to dig it out.
A very fine start, Av! I'm much enjoying all of the slaying and murder and casual misogyny.
(Well, enjoying might not be exactly the wright word, but you know what I mean...)Always annoying to have a character assassinated so soon into the game, but it certainly provides for a good narrative. I trust Sigfrid's reign will be equally as enjoyable, and look forward to reading about it.
You should take the assassination as a compliment. It means someone thinks you're so important of a threat that they needed to spend money to off you.
One would have to say that perhaps it is no surprise that someone visited by the All-Father might be called to Valhalla quite soon. Divine attention is not always a positive and all that
There's a feature now that might help. If you mouse over the little red skull by his portrait, it'll give information about the manner of his death. It's not always known, but sometimes you do get more information that way.
Also, not a bad start. Of course, my test games suggest it's more interesting when you start going up against Mercia (especially if they drag in Wessex). I suspect you'll have more patience than me, though!
Plotting someone's dead is free. You can plot against anybody in your diplomatic range btw.that they needed to spend money to off you.
Ah, I forgot about the assassination plots. Well it still means someone considers him important enough to kill.
High intrigue and certain traits make characters likely to plot against random people - just for fun.Well it still means someone considers him important enough to kill.
Also, woman plot against you, if your dead gets either their husband or one of their childs to succeed (partly) to your position.
A crashcourse, then: Unlike Skyrim vikings, their dragons were wyrms (no limbs or wings, could only be killed by a bull on a honey-diet) and unlike the Thor movies, they had no lasers and Bifrost was not a potential nuclear weapon. I can't make funny jokes about the other two since I don't know them
Anyway, if you die in battle you get to go to Valhalla to chill with the gods, eat from a regenerating pig and prepare for Ragnarok (the alternative is Hel which has less fire than hell). Loki is a jotun (giant) and mixed blood with Odin which is why he got to hang out until he killed Baldr. Most vikings were peasants who raided in between harvests.
Also, subscribed! I loved the previous AAR so I am right from there
Glory to Halfdan! He now dines in Valhalla!
That really sucks that you're first character was assassinated only two years into his glorious reign.
I'm sure they do? Maybe?
Thanks!
Seeing that, I'm reminded of one of the first AARs I read on these boards which used the phrase as a title. It was a brilliant piece of writing, should you ever have a bit of time spare and wish to dig it out.
A very fine start, Av! I'm much enjoying all of the slaying and murder and casual misogyny.
Always annoying to have a character assassinated so soon into the game, but it certainly provides for a good narrative. I trust Sigfrid's reign will be equally as enjoyable, and look forward to reading about it.
I was kind of bummed when he got killed, but I think you'll agree the forthcoming updates are all the more interesting as a result.
Agreed.
You should take the assassination as a compliment. It means someone thinks you're so important of a threat that they needed to spend money to off you.
As Henry Kissinger put it, "Even paranoiacs have enemies."
One would have to say that perhaps it is no surprise that someone visited by the All-Father might be called to Valhalla quite soon. Divine attention is not always a positive and all that
That's an excellent point!
Sadly, I've just got the gray skull and "suspicious accident."
Diplomatic range? What's that?
Ah, I forgot about the assassination plots. Well it still means someone considers him important enough to kill.
It was a plot, or I couldn't have arrested her.
I know I would certainly plot against random people for fun if it were legal and/or it weren't comparatively likely I'd get caught.
A crashcourse, then: Unlike Skyrim vikings, their dragons were wyrms (no limbs or wings, could only be killed by a bull on a honey-diet) and unlike the Thor movies, they had no lasers and Bifrost was not a potential nuclear weapon. I can't make funny jokes about the other two since I don't know them
Anyway, if you die in battle you get to go to Valhalla to chill with the gods, eat from a regenerating pig and prepare for Ragnarok (the alternative is Hel which has less fire than hell). Loki is a jotun (giant) and mixed blood with Odin which is why he got to hang out until he killed Baldr. Most vikings were peasants who raided in between harvests.
Also, subscribed! I loved the previous AAR so I am right from there
No lasers? I am horrified and appalled. Lasers make everything better (even SimAnt).
Rajas of India brougth the need to prevent Indians interacting with Western Europeans etc. Diplomatic Range disallows diplomatic actions of any kind beyond a predefined range, the further the time goes, the larger that range is.
That's plot, with uncaught main plotter.
Imprison characters the moment their plot is discovered, and never let them go (unless you wanna die). If they agree to end their plot, they will stop plotting - just to start again immediately.
Well, getting shot in the head is pretty suspicious.
New feature. You have a limited range from your capital in which you can do any diplomatic actions. So no marrying princesses from India. At least not without some clever shenanigans.
I suggest to use up your event troops fighting scots and irishmen and then prepare an invasion of Mercia or Wessex(if Alfred doesn't usurp it from his bro, splitting it to Wessex and Hwicce). AFAIK, you get less troops from the prepared invasion if you have other event troops.
Thanks! And I did try to imprison her. 82% chance my ass...
At least he didn't get Haralded.
I do indeed have plans for the event troops.
Just caught up (yea, I kno, it's a lot lol)
And in response to that discussion 2 pages back - yes, Percy Jackson is totally worth it, whether your 8 or 80. Rick Riordan is funny, and honestly, for as "kids books" go, it is extremely.....I don't want to say philosophical, but it gets you thinking. For example - how do you define what Western Civilization is without using Christianity or even religion in general?
And in response to that discussion 2 pages back - yes, Percy Jackson is totally worth it, whether your 8 or 80. Rick Riordan is funny, and honestly, for as "kids books" go, it is extremely.....I don't want to say philosophical, but it gets you thinking. For example - how do you define what Western Civilization is without using Christianity or even religion in general?
I might give them a try; I'm more and more intrigued as I hear about them.
Well, the new king has a quick visit to pay his ex... with his axe
That is one possible outcome, yes.
So, I finally finished playing this particular King's reign, which means I should be able to update soon. An update today is theoretically possible, but tomorrow is more likely.
Chapter 2: In search of new lands
The All-Father gives us all gifts. To my departed father (may his feasting days never end), he gave a mighty sword arm, capable of cleaving the most fearsome foe in twain. To me, he gave the ability to read the runes. Indeed, I was my father’s steward, and composed the chronicle of his deeds.
That my own sons might learn from my experience, I spend each day composing a chronicle of my own, and the actions of my people. I close this day, the first of my reign as Petty King of Jorvik, with the appointment of my own personal steward, Ingemar of Richmond.
Perhaps the most important lesson I learned from my father is to reward those loyal to you, and I have already pledged to grant him lands in a future conquest.
10 June 870, Jorvik
A ferocious battle goes on outside my window, but a more fierce one rages in my heart. Jorunn, my beloved, must be sent away.
Some of my father’s companions have suggested she had my father murdered to serve my interests, yet I had no interest in gaining power before my time: that is wicked, and Thor would not reward such trickery. No, I fear she was betrayed, just as my father was, and until I know whom precisely is to blame, I cannot strike against her. I will banish her from my lands, and find a new Queen, but I will not spill any more blood.
15 June 870, Jorvik
I have every confidence victory shall soon be ours; my warriors chase the English, as they so often flee from the fiery of justice of Thor. I have chosen a Queen from among our cousins far to the east: Grima, a Priestess of her people.
A wise ruler must address his weaknesses as well as his strengths. Grima was a fierce warrior before taking up the runes, and a trusted voice at the table is always welcomed in councils of war. I hope she will give me many fine sons.
22 June 870, Jorvik
As my Queen arrived, she told me of her home, and of a Varangian Guard forming in the city of Miklagard. Her speech convinced a few young warriors, hungry for glory and battle, to take to the longships and sail east. May they find what they seek!
18 March 871, Jorvik
The city of Jorvik has become the capital of the Jarldom of Northumberland. I have finished what my father began, and it is now time to reward our soldiers with treasure and land. My brother, Ragnarr, I named Chief of Dunholm.
To my Chancellor, Kjartan af Pontefract, I awarded the Chiefdom of Westmorland. He has been a sad fellow in recent days; I hope the gift cheers him, and may he administer it well.
Ingemar of Richmond has become Ingemar, Chief of Lancaster. I granted my Seer, Anlaufr, a Chiefdom of his own, that of Cumberland. Ragnarr, concerned that his gifts were not as rich as those others, also received the title of Lawspeaker of Jorvik. Finally, I gave the City of Newcastle to Ubbe Ragnarrson and a Temple in Lindisfarne to Anlaufr.
13 April 871, Jorvik
Ubbe, Mayor of Newcastle, takes an army south into the Catholic lands, to plunder and pillage and enrich our treasuries. I trust not these English; I would feel better with stronger walls and more warriors, and to have those, I must have coin.
7 July 871, Jorvik
A sad day. My brother Gudfrid has gone to join father in Valhalla. He was ill for many weeks, and I am pleased his suffering is at an end, if those of us in Midgard continue to suffer.
11 September 871, Jorvik
My Master of Spies, Thorbrandr, brought troubling news of a follower of the White Christ, Eardulf Hayes. I wonder if it was this Hayes who ordered the death of my father? In any case, he must be destroyed, lest he do untold damage to our newly won lands.
27 September 871, Jorvik
On the advice of Grima, I have taken the Countess of Derby as my concubine. She is a comely creature, but very, very clever. Grima sees great things for her, and she speaks to the gods, so who am I to argue?
21 April 873, Jorvik
The King of Jylland has asked to us to go to war with King Burghred of Mercia. It is a pity; there was much looting to be had there, but I remember his assistance against the Petty King of Northumberland.
My daughter, Ulfhildr, just a few weeks ago passed her first year in Midgard. I hope she sees many more at my side; I would not wish her to leave for all the world.
25 July 873, Jorvik
There is a great battle going on not far to the west of here. My own warriors are capturing the lands of Lincoln, which they were recently looting.
I wish I could join them in battle, but without guidance in the martial arts, I fear I would bring only doom to my warriors.
23 May 874, Jorvik
The days pass. The King of Jylland was victorious, but I find myself bored. Where are the conquests for the House of Hvitserk? We are trapped by brother Norse, and I fear my realm will be dissolved at my death. We must seek our fortunes elsewhere, I think. I have named Thorbrandr one of my closest companions, and have him watch my mead.
26 April 875, Jorvik
Another daughter, Holmfrid, this one of my concubine! I would prefer sons, many sons to wield blade and pen for the glory of Jorvik, but I have grown to depend on the womenfolk in a way my father never have. They have much strength.
I spent some time two weeks ago thinking how best to improve my nation, if not with axe or sword. I sent my Marshal to train a new crop of heavy infantry, promised to devote funds to see Norse Temples grow strong throughout our lands, and most importantly, began to codify the law, so that the transition from me to Halfdan will be a smooth one. I know I am young, but I also know that the All-Father alone determines when we leave this world.
16 June 875, Jorvik
I spent the last few days with the most fascinating merchants. They came, if you can believe it, from lands far off to the south and east; so far, that even our cousin Rurik of Rus has not heard of them. They have strange practices, but I admire their courage and strength. The merchants offered me one of their number as a companion and an ally, one who had voluntarily offered to surrender his manhood for greater understanding of the gods. I cannot imagine Odin or Thor asking such a sacrifice, but he does not seem to mind. I think he will make a valuable servant of some kind.
14 July 875, Jorvik
I begin the education of my son Halfdan today. I will teach him all I know of the runes and, when they return from their raids to the west, my soldiers shall teach him of the blade and the shield.
9 January 877, Jorvik
Grima bore me a son, Gudrodr, a few weeks ago. Perhaps it is the harsh winter, but he seems a sickly thing. If he survives the coming days, he may prove hardy enough to withstand anything. To celebrate, Muzzaffaraddin and I partook in some mead. A gang of lowly peasants tried to assault us, but, perhaps buoyed the presence of drink, I had no fear. Muzzaffaraddin defeated many of them, but I knocked out three or four myself. Finally – for the first time since my father sadly cursed my incompetence in the art of war – I began to understand.
I went to bed that night, for the first time feeling I might have some touch of the warrior still in me. I dreamt of Valhalla. I embraced my father and my brother, and we shared a tankard of mead. My father boasted of his many conquests. I said nothing. He looked at me, in confusion. “Why do you not speak of your glorious victories, my son?”
“I have none, father. I busy myself in our castle, but I do not go questing.”
Father shook his head and smiled. “Glory does not come from questing, but from using the blade you are given. Any warrior can slay a troll with a greatsword; to do so with a pen is all the more impressive.”
“Then you do not feel shame in me?”
“No! You are a Jarl, more than I could ever claim. It may even be that you or your sons, or the sons of your sons, shall be an Emperor someday.”
“Truly?”
“Yes, Sigfrid. You will join us here, in a longer time than I would like, but a shorter time than you would like. Trust in the gods; they brought us to these lands, and if not for riches and power, then why?”
A crow cawed, interrupting the dream. He cawed three more times, and I was fully awake. I looked and saw a funeral procession. I grabbed a soldier and asked what was going on.
“Hail, Jarl. It is Anlaufr. He has gone to Valhalla.”
“A new seer is needed, then. But whom?”
All of a sudden, I caught sight of my friend from the night before, my companion: Muzzaffaraddin. I gestured to him, beckoning him closer. I saw the crow again, and to my amazement, I had been wrong: it was a raven, sacred to Odin. It cawed one more time.
I wasted no time in naming him Seer.
22 March 878, Cumberland
I have left Jorvik for the first time in many years. I will not accompany the men – that is the Marshal’s job – but I will speak to them nonetheless, and impart what wisdom I can. The Boneless lies to our north. Jylland to our south. The son of Halfdan cannot wait idly for glory; he must seek it out himself. Muzzaffarddin prepared a blot to commemorate the memory of my father, although it has been many days since he last walked Midgard. That I did not immediately prepare one is, perhaps, a failing.
The sacrifice was a follower of the White Christ. A warrior captured in one of our raids, I was surprised to see such a powerful man so devoted to a weak god, not even worthy of contempt. I gave him his book, in the strange runes I cannot understand, and it gave him some comfort. I know he goes not to Valhalla, as the followers of the White Christ are not welcome there.
The home of this warrior, Irland, has been a regular target of our raids, but we never thought to take the land for ourselves. We have grown complacent and weak, like this Irish warrior. The Viking does not wait for glory. He takes it.
So it begins.
Thanks everyone for your patience; it will continue to be a bit rocky while I try to work out a regular schedule for updates, but within the next few days I should have a new part up. Thanks for reading!
Ah, and so the invasion of Ireland begins! Will you have to compete for it with your brothers of the faith, though? Doesn't Sudreyar own Dublin?
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