Hehe. One day I hope to play a Viking game and reform the Germanic religion to Peaceful
Holy Fury AAR: Ivar the Bönless
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Chapter 11
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Chapter 11: Trading Kings
"Linda, my dove, you never had to fear. Your son will be King of Irland."
Linda sighed, "And Valdemar, as you said, will not inherit." She drew near and placed a hand on Sigfroþ's shoulder. "Your perception never ceases to amaze me, my king."
Sigfroþ grabbed Linda's hand and glared at her an instant before softening. Pulling her close, he replied, "Don't sing to the pig before you stick him. I know your tricks by now."
Used to his chiding, Linda grinned. "So, the council has made their decision?"
"They have. Ivar, first son and only son Queen Przybyczesc will become King of Sviþjod. The king's lands, the Jarldom of Smáland would also be his."
Linda listened carefully, continuing to grin. Yes, Ivar, the boy she had tried to murder long ago, was now grown and the Jarl of Galloway, but all of Sigfroþ's other sons were all by her womb. She knew that her brood would rule over the land.
"Faste, Jarl of East Anglia, will be King of Irland. The old king's lands of Irland, Strangfjorðr and Tyrone, will be his as well."
"Gorm, it was agreed, has already received all of Ofeig's lands of Sjælland and the Jarldom of Sviþjod, and would receive nothing further. His lands were considered expansive enough to be a kingdom in their own right."
"As for our Kettil, a new kingdom would be created. It would be carved from Jylland and called Denmark. He would also receive extensive lands in Värend, Jamtland, and Narva."
Linda broke from her reverie on the future for her family. "Narva? Where is that?"
"Somewhere near the Finnish lands. The af Munsös conquered it just after father finished up the Great Heathen War, and it was held by then until they died out, Ofeig added Sviþjod to Sjælland, and then..." Sigfroþ and Linda smiled in unison.
Linda inhaled, contemplating the calculus of inheritances. "Is that all?"
Sigfroþ waved his hand. "Well, the young brother Skuli still gets some interest from my vassals."
"He wouldn't be a terrible choice. Then there is Haukr, son of Guðfrið. Some have said that he has his father's spirit, but, well, that spirit wasn't enough to protect him for long."
Sigfroþ stretched. He was no longer used to standing for long periods of time before his joints complained. He tried not to stagger. "And, I suppose, if these old bones grant me the strength to produce another son, we would have to make considerations for him. The Queen is past her childbearing years, but Halla is still young."
Linda winced at the name of her king's other concubine. She was silently thankful that Frey had granted their union only a single daughter. So far. "Well, then you should ensure there's enough land to go around," she cautioned. "Have you considered expansion from Narva?"
"Among other places. Honestly, I kind of hope Faste proves capable. I suspect he would make a better king back east. Let Kettil handle Irland, and Ivar Denmark."
Linda relaxed. "That would be an interesting change of pace. We shall see, then." Taking the document from Sigfroþ's hand and placing it on the table, she then gazed upward into his eyes. "Should we see what these old bones still have in them?"
"Linda, my dove, you never had to fear. Your son will be King of Irland."
Linda sighed, "And Valdemar, as you said, will not inherit." She drew near and placed a hand on Sigfroþ's shoulder. "Your perception never ceases to amaze me, my king."
Sigfroþ grabbed Linda's hand and glared at her an instant before softening. Pulling her close, he replied, "Don't sing to the pig before you stick him. I know your tricks by now."
Used to his chiding, Linda grinned. "So, the council has made their decision?"
"They have. Ivar, first son and only son Queen Przybyczesc will become King of Sviþjod. The king's lands, the Jarldom of Smáland would also be his."
Linda listened carefully, continuing to grin. Yes, Ivar, the boy she had tried to murder long ago, was now grown and the Jarl of Galloway, but all of Sigfroþ's other sons were all by her womb. She knew that her brood would rule over the land.
"Faste, Jarl of East Anglia, will be King of Irland. The old king's lands of Irland, Strangfjorðr and Tyrone, will be his as well."
"Gorm, it was agreed, has already received all of Ofeig's lands of Sjælland and the Jarldom of Sviþjod, and would receive nothing further. His lands were considered expansive enough to be a kingdom in their own right."
"As for our Kettil, a new kingdom would be created. It would be carved from Jylland and called Denmark. He would also receive extensive lands in Värend, Jamtland, and Narva."
Linda broke from her reverie on the future for her family. "Narva? Where is that?"
"Somewhere near the Finnish lands. The af Munsös conquered it just after father finished up the Great Heathen War, and it was held by then until they died out, Ofeig added Sviþjod to Sjælland, and then..." Sigfroþ and Linda smiled in unison.
Linda inhaled, contemplating the calculus of inheritances. "Is that all?"
Sigfroþ waved his hand. "Well, the young brother Skuli still gets some interest from my vassals."
"He wouldn't be a terrible choice. Then there is Haukr, son of Guðfrið. Some have said that he has his father's spirit, but, well, that spirit wasn't enough to protect him for long."
Sigfroþ stretched. He was no longer used to standing for long periods of time before his joints complained. He tried not to stagger. "And, I suppose, if these old bones grant me the strength to produce another son, we would have to make considerations for him. The Queen is past her childbearing years, but Halla is still young."
Linda winced at the name of her king's other concubine. She was silently thankful that Frey had granted their union only a single daughter. So far. "Well, then you should ensure there's enough land to go around," she cautioned. "Have you considered expansion from Narva?"
"Among other places. Honestly, I kind of hope Faste proves capable. I suspect he would make a better king back east. Let Kettil handle Irland, and Ivar Denmark."
Linda relaxed. "That would be an interesting change of pace. We shall see, then." Taking the document from Sigfroþ's hand and placing it on the table, she then gazed upward into his eyes. "Should we see what these old bones still have in them?"
Attachments
- 1
Something tells me that when the King finally passes, his heirs will not long be content with their own individual inheritances...
Intermission 3
Chapter 12
Chapter 12: The Heirs of the Trapper King
Faste proved competent, if not spectacular, and Sigfroþ threw his support behind him.
However, the jarls of Sviþjod took this chance to throw their weight behind Skuli, instead.
Gorm was dead from some hunting accident. Without witnesses, it was impossible to say who it was, only that the role was held tightly. His chiefs granted their lands to Guðfrið, son of Haukr. This was a boy of 3. Sigfroþ feared that this position was cursed to kill all young boys.
And still, the family was restless. Scotland had grown weak, and the jarls of Sviþjod became like ravens picking at the Scottish carcass. Kettil declared war on Ivar, claiming that he chiefdom of Breifne belonged to him. In this scuffle, and with the passing of Gorm and naming Skuli as heir, the council returned that Narva would belong to the King of Sviþjod. Growth would have to come from there.
Not only that, but Sigfroþ's sister was caught in a bizarre web:
Olafr did not last long in his personal victory.
Still, money was needed in the coffers. Sigfroþ sent the retinues to raid Gdansk. The year was proving harsh.
And then...
Loki had clearly come to visit the Ivarings.
Faste proved competent, if not spectacular, and Sigfroþ threw his support behind him.
However, the jarls of Sviþjod took this chance to throw their weight behind Skuli, instead.
Gorm was dead from some hunting accident. Without witnesses, it was impossible to say who it was, only that the role was held tightly. His chiefs granted their lands to Guðfrið, son of Haukr. This was a boy of 3. Sigfroþ feared that this position was cursed to kill all young boys.
And still, the family was restless. Scotland had grown weak, and the jarls of Sviþjod became like ravens picking at the Scottish carcass. Kettil declared war on Ivar, claiming that he chiefdom of Breifne belonged to him. In this scuffle, and with the passing of Gorm and naming Skuli as heir, the council returned that Narva would belong to the King of Sviþjod. Growth would have to come from there.
Not only that, but Sigfroþ's sister was caught in a bizarre web:
Olafr did not last long in his personal victory.
Still, money was needed in the coffers. Sigfroþ sent the retinues to raid Gdansk. The year was proving harsh.
And then...
Loki had clearly come to visit the Ivarings.
- 1
Votes were splitting. Haukr remained the clear leader in the wake of Skuli's disappearance, but Ivar and Faste had their supporters.
The fourth candidate to gain attention was Hysing, Chief of Mann and Haukr's brother. He had just come off a victory against Scotland for Katanæs, and just announced an attack against Cumberland.
The fourth candidate to gain attention was Hysing, Chief of Mann and Haukr's brother. He had just come off a victory against Scotland for Katanæs, and just announced an attack against Cumberland.
- 1
The Ivarings may well end up tearing themselves apart completely if they keep up these fratricidal antics at their current pace.
(On a semi-related note, that new Electors screen looks to be a most handy addition to the game.)
(On a semi-related note, that new Electors screen looks to be a most handy addition to the game.)
Chapter 13
Chapter 13: The First Crusade
The Catholics said the year was 900, and their holy man issued a new warning:
Sigfroþ figured they would travel south, but he asked the new Fylkja, a young woman named Bodil, of the gods' wishes. She stated that the time for blood would come.
In August of that year, Sigfroþ's long-ignored wife, Przybyczesc, passed away. He would be expected to remarry, but who?
He considered marrying Linda for convenience. In many ways, she was his real wife in any case. Then there was his other concubine, a clever if furious woman named Halla, who had worked her way into being the Court Seeress.
But honestly, he would not need any more children. Simply a good steward in his last days would be sufficient, no?
While he pondered this, he sent forces to put down a rebellion for the old faith.
Linda and Haukr performed admirably, as expected, and Bodil feasted on the rebellion leader's heart.
And so, a year after the Pope's announcement, the First Crusade was called:
Sigfroþ would never understand the Christians. His advisors told him that apparently this huge war was for someone who felt that someone else was Pope? What even was a Fraticelli?
The Catholics said the year was 900, and their holy man issued a new warning:
Sigfroþ figured they would travel south, but he asked the new Fylkja, a young woman named Bodil, of the gods' wishes. She stated that the time for blood would come.
In August of that year, Sigfroþ's long-ignored wife, Przybyczesc, passed away. He would be expected to remarry, but who?
He considered marrying Linda for convenience. In many ways, she was his real wife in any case. Then there was his other concubine, a clever if furious woman named Halla, who had worked her way into being the Court Seeress.
But honestly, he would not need any more children. Simply a good steward in his last days would be sufficient, no?
While he pondered this, he sent forces to put down a rebellion for the old faith.
Linda and Haukr performed admirably, as expected, and Bodil feasted on the rebellion leader's heart.
And so, a year after the Pope's announcement, the First Crusade was called:
Sigfroþ would never understand the Christians. His advisors told him that apparently this huge war was for someone who felt that someone else was Pope? What even was a Fraticelli?
- 1
It does seem like an appropriately medieval thing to happen -- use the threat of the infidel to unite Christendom under one banner, then deploy that united force against heretics and schismatics rather than the actual infidels in question.
Chapter 14
Chapter 14: The Book of Kings
Sigfroþ considered his next step. He was with his retinue, busy sacking London. A group of fanatic warriors was marching to the lands around Narva for conquest. He considered the most recent reports regarding the Crusade, lands east. He remembered when the Hindustani trader came by. Could there possibly be more wealth inland? And then there was a chronicle he was working on, on the side. It had been so long since he stood on British shores. "Take me to Norfolk," he told a young promising page as his men sieged down London's city walls. "I wish to see my father's runestone."
Before the solitary standing stone, Sigfroþ pulled forth Aslaug's Tongue and lay the two together. "I've told the scribes your tale. I don't know how much they believe it, but they know that Ivar and Aslaug are legends, and I, your son, the one not meant to rule, has expanded our lands from Ireland and Iceland to Eistland. They have no reason to doubt."
Ivar stood on the desolate East Anglian shore in contemplation, when a scouting party approached, bearing the standard of Galloway. "Ah," Sigfroþ smiled, "News from my son. How fares he? I trust he finds his childhood lands well?"
The scout shifted, fixed his gaze on his king, and delivered his news. "Ivar the Tenacious is dead," he reported. "I now serve his son, Guðröðr, Jarl of Galloway."
Sigfroþ gripped the knife blessed by his grandmother's blood tightly. His eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. "Who did it? Haukr? Kettil? By the gods, I've raised a generation of murderers!"
"No, my king. Ivar fled into hiding. Last word we had, he planned to seek out Finn MacCool's hiding place. Our scouts found him walking into the sea from the Giant's Causeway."
Sigfroþ sank to the sand on the beach. "The boy always was the world's cleverest fool. I guess I must... What? How is the succession?" He looked around confused. A moment later, his resolve returned. "Here, help me up. I'll handle this in London. Trading gold for seafoam... What were you thinking, boy?"
Four men remained in the next generation. Guðfrið's sons Haukr and Hysing, and his and Linda's sons Kettil and Faste were all that remained. Past that, it was babies. Babies that were even now inheriting; Guðröðr was the Jarl of Galloway, and Haukr's son Guðfrið held all the old lands of Sjælland. Sigfroþ still hoped that Faste would inherit, but the chiefs rallied their support behind Haukr. His nephew was a good choice, though, so let it be as it is.
...But still, this generation was tearing itself to oblivion. Returning to Kalmar, Sigfroþ asked the council to prepare a list of young, healthy women who might be able to bear another son should the need arise. He briefly considered Linda, but she was past childbearing age. Halla would be beneath his station. After working with his council, he saw one fierce warrior woman from the steppes. "She will do, Gundes will be the new queen."
"I can't believe I'm starting new things as I'm finishing things up," Sigfroþ mused. "But a sprung trap is worthless if it is not checked... Are the stories all complete?"
"I can't believe they doubt that," Sigfroþ stated. "Aslaug was bathing when Ragnarr caught her the first time. They told me."
He went out to the woods, trying to remember where he had placed his traps. His new wife traveled with him, and watched carefully. "You hide them so you cannot find them by sight," she observed. "So many trees, how do you get around? You must use your nose, sniff the traps out. I will help."
Sigfroþ was overjoyed. Przybyczesc never gave him a puppy, or much past a son who could barely remain sane. What was he thinking? What was he...
The coffers needed filling again, but he checked the maps. London? Holland? Friesland? They all had been hit before. No, he needed new ground. What was the place that the merchant suggested? Georgia? Trebizond? Yes. Those lands were rich, and weak... And he did want to see what the Christians were fighting each other for.
Longships navigated the rivers until they emerged into the Black Sea and plundered to their heart's content.
Back at home, he watched how the other Germanic realms had fared. Smáland had refused to convert to the new ways, and they were conquered. All other realms: Jorvik, Viken, Naumadal, Westergautland, and Garðariki, all had claimed the Blood Eagle as their own symbol as well. Naumadal was remote and weak, and welcomed the chance to join Sviþjod when offered. Three others stayed independent but were weakening, and wars had begun to break out. Only Westergautland remained strong, continuing to conquer the Holstein coast. But then, they proved willing to join with Sviþjod as well.
No one could doubt that Sigfroþ had brought the Norsemen together.
The Christians claimed victory from the war with themselves. Such a strange religion.
The bouts of confusion became more frequent, more exhausting. Gundes arranged for him to be returned with all due haste to Kalmar, and the raiding fleets made a final home voyage. The daily administration of the realm was given over to Hrolfr Red-Cheeks, Jarl of Rügen. There were days when Sigfroþ could rise from his bed, but most of those were spent not far from Kalmar, playing with his dog Tricky.
"Come, Tricky, my boy, I'll show you how to set snares."
On 10 October, 905, Sigfroþ breathed his last. And so, with the passing of the Trapper King, we are reminded that Death lays the final trap for us all.
Sigfroþ considered his next step. He was with his retinue, busy sacking London. A group of fanatic warriors was marching to the lands around Narva for conquest. He considered the most recent reports regarding the Crusade, lands east. He remembered when the Hindustani trader came by. Could there possibly be more wealth inland? And then there was a chronicle he was working on, on the side. It had been so long since he stood on British shores. "Take me to Norfolk," he told a young promising page as his men sieged down London's city walls. "I wish to see my father's runestone."
Before the solitary standing stone, Sigfroþ pulled forth Aslaug's Tongue and lay the two together. "I've told the scribes your tale. I don't know how much they believe it, but they know that Ivar and Aslaug are legends, and I, your son, the one not meant to rule, has expanded our lands from Ireland and Iceland to Eistland. They have no reason to doubt."
Ivar stood on the desolate East Anglian shore in contemplation, when a scouting party approached, bearing the standard of Galloway. "Ah," Sigfroþ smiled, "News from my son. How fares he? I trust he finds his childhood lands well?"
The scout shifted, fixed his gaze on his king, and delivered his news. "Ivar the Tenacious is dead," he reported. "I now serve his son, Guðröðr, Jarl of Galloway."
Sigfroþ gripped the knife blessed by his grandmother's blood tightly. His eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. "Who did it? Haukr? Kettil? By the gods, I've raised a generation of murderers!"
"No, my king. Ivar fled into hiding. Last word we had, he planned to seek out Finn MacCool's hiding place. Our scouts found him walking into the sea from the Giant's Causeway."
Sigfroþ sank to the sand on the beach. "The boy always was the world's cleverest fool. I guess I must... What? How is the succession?" He looked around confused. A moment later, his resolve returned. "Here, help me up. I'll handle this in London. Trading gold for seafoam... What were you thinking, boy?"
Four men remained in the next generation. Guðfrið's sons Haukr and Hysing, and his and Linda's sons Kettil and Faste were all that remained. Past that, it was babies. Babies that were even now inheriting; Guðröðr was the Jarl of Galloway, and Haukr's son Guðfrið held all the old lands of Sjælland. Sigfroþ still hoped that Faste would inherit, but the chiefs rallied their support behind Haukr. His nephew was a good choice, though, so let it be as it is.
...But still, this generation was tearing itself to oblivion. Returning to Kalmar, Sigfroþ asked the council to prepare a list of young, healthy women who might be able to bear another son should the need arise. He briefly considered Linda, but she was past childbearing age. Halla would be beneath his station. After working with his council, he saw one fierce warrior woman from the steppes. "She will do, Gundes will be the new queen."
"I can't believe I'm starting new things as I'm finishing things up," Sigfroþ mused. "But a sprung trap is worthless if it is not checked... Are the stories all complete?"
"I can't believe they doubt that," Sigfroþ stated. "Aslaug was bathing when Ragnarr caught her the first time. They told me."
He went out to the woods, trying to remember where he had placed his traps. His new wife traveled with him, and watched carefully. "You hide them so you cannot find them by sight," she observed. "So many trees, how do you get around? You must use your nose, sniff the traps out. I will help."
Sigfroþ was overjoyed. Przybyczesc never gave him a puppy, or much past a son who could barely remain sane. What was he thinking? What was he...
The coffers needed filling again, but he checked the maps. London? Holland? Friesland? They all had been hit before. No, he needed new ground. What was the place that the merchant suggested? Georgia? Trebizond? Yes. Those lands were rich, and weak... And he did want to see what the Christians were fighting each other for.
Longships navigated the rivers until they emerged into the Black Sea and plundered to their heart's content.
Back at home, he watched how the other Germanic realms had fared. Smáland had refused to convert to the new ways, and they were conquered. All other realms: Jorvik, Viken, Naumadal, Westergautland, and Garðariki, all had claimed the Blood Eagle as their own symbol as well. Naumadal was remote and weak, and welcomed the chance to join Sviþjod when offered. Three others stayed independent but were weakening, and wars had begun to break out. Only Westergautland remained strong, continuing to conquer the Holstein coast. But then, they proved willing to join with Sviþjod as well.
No one could doubt that Sigfroþ had brought the Norsemen together.
The Christians claimed victory from the war with themselves. Such a strange religion.
The bouts of confusion became more frequent, more exhausting. Gundes arranged for him to be returned with all due haste to Kalmar, and the raiding fleets made a final home voyage. The daily administration of the realm was given over to Hrolfr Red-Cheeks, Jarl of Rügen. There were days when Sigfroþ could rise from his bed, but most of those were spent not far from Kalmar, playing with his dog Tricky.
"Come, Tricky, my boy, I'll show you how to set snares."
On 10 October, 905, Sigfroþ breathed his last. And so, with the passing of the Trapper King, we are reminded that Death lays the final trap for us all.
- 1
Intermission 4
Here is an update on how the succession played out:
Haukr is King of Sviþjod, keeping all lands and vassals that were not part of de jure Irland and Denmark. Five of the six counties of his demesne are connected by the capital in Kalmar.
His brother Hysing, not a son of Sigfroþ, still has his land in Mann, the Chiefdom of Galloway, and Katanæs.
Guðröðr, son of Ivar, grandson of Sigfroþ, is the new King of Irland. Aside from a couple far-flung territories as the result of vassal relationships, the kingdom is relatively compact. The capital is in Carrick.
Kettil did not receive any kingdom, and is still the High Chief of Connacht. He did, however, receive those far-flung counties.
Faste became the King of Denmark, and the Kingdom of Estonia (which I'll be calling Eistland) was created and also given to him. His capital is in Suffolk, and most of his demesne is in Eistland. I wouldn't be surprised if we see Estonia become his primary title soon.
Finally worth mentioning is Guðfrið, son of Haukr, who presently holds a large portion of his father's kingdom:
We'll see how long he lives.
Here's a snapshot of everyone in House Ivaring. Everyone in an unexploded branch is either dead or nondynastic.
Wieslawa's branch may prove interesting; she has given birth to two Heavenly women, and three of her four daughters are dynastic.
Haukr is King of Sviþjod, keeping all lands and vassals that were not part of de jure Irland and Denmark. Five of the six counties of his demesne are connected by the capital in Kalmar.
His brother Hysing, not a son of Sigfroþ, still has his land in Mann, the Chiefdom of Galloway, and Katanæs.
Guðröðr, son of Ivar, grandson of Sigfroþ, is the new King of Irland. Aside from a couple far-flung territories as the result of vassal relationships, the kingdom is relatively compact. The capital is in Carrick.
Kettil did not receive any kingdom, and is still the High Chief of Connacht. He did, however, receive those far-flung counties.
Faste became the King of Denmark, and the Kingdom of Estonia (which I'll be calling Eistland) was created and also given to him. His capital is in Suffolk, and most of his demesne is in Eistland. I wouldn't be surprised if we see Estonia become his primary title soon.
Finally worth mentioning is Guðfrið, son of Haukr, who presently holds a large portion of his father's kingdom:
We'll see how long he lives.
Here's a snapshot of everyone in House Ivaring. Everyone in an unexploded branch is either dead or nondynastic.
Wieslawa's branch may prove interesting; she has given birth to two Heavenly women, and three of her four daughters are dynastic.
- 1
more kingdoms popping up... those Ivaring other kingdoms should be conquered somehow