Ahh of course Robin -> Batman. You can't get more obvious than that.
Again vaguely in the right area.
Lancaster: The King in the North
- Thread starter TheButterflyComposer
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Again vaguely in the right area.
Wumble-Grumble is an excellent name. I really enjoyed that scene!
Might Robin be interested in finding some merry men?
Might Robin be interested in finding some merry men?
Or a friendly bear who really likes Honey?
Because we definitely need more bear characters than just Secret.
Yup.
They still haven't randomly spawned in yet so unless I make them up whole cloth we must wait. Not a bad idea to do Disney Robin Hood but there's already a medieval version of talking animal entertainment...although its extremely dark humour. Reynard the Fox and Co do terrible thinge to each other constsntly.
Was thinking of bringing in at least refrences to it but not sure if I CAN put them in wholesale...Reynard is a serial sexual predator of all animals and genders, as well as a murderer, a cannibal, a torturer and a French land owner.
Hmm, for some reason my alerts have been particularly broken of late, so only realised I’d missed this latest update as I checked back through my watched list in a spare moment! Elfwine appeared almost as death then, and who knows that may not be far from the mark! Certainly one of his henchmen, particularly after his activities in his first life and the apocalyptic not-end of it.
As for the Norse name, the root seems to relate to either personal (physical) strength or combativeness, and I certainly had some Styrkar/Styrkr characters in my Norse AAR. Which may suit the hulking father, though I’m not sure if the ‘kur’ ending modifies it at all (cure?).
As for the Norse name, the root seems to relate to either personal (physical) strength or combativeness, and I certainly had some Styrkar/Styrkr characters in my Norse AAR. Which may suit the hulking father, though I’m not sure if the ‘kur’ ending modifies it at all (cure?).
Changing the perspective so we aren't following Elfwine around constantly. Not something I usually do but it's required here because he's far from normal humanity anymore. This was an indication of what to like to be around him rather than him. Next chapter will begin with a story from Old Lancaster during the very dark time when he was at the height of his powers and very much off the deep end in terms of morality. If he's unnerving now, he used to be much worse.
Embodiment of Strength in all its meanings is the idea, with hints of history at the end there.
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Chapter 16: The Legend of Robin Hood
Chapter 16: The Legend of Robin Hood
Once Upon a Time, in the Days of Old Lancaster…
In days gone by, when the merry Kingdom of Lancaster held sway over the island of Britannia, the people happily lived and served under the protection of many great and noble rulers. And the greatest and noblest of them all was Eadric, Duke of Mercia and Anglia. The King’s second and much beloved son. A gentle and kind man, a fierce warrior of the realm and a keen diplomat not just in foreign affairs but within his own vast family.
Yet his lands were vast. The King in the North entrusted his son and heir much of what Lancaster conquered south of her borders, such that by the time the lad was twenty he was already Duke of Essex. When his mother, the first Duchess of Mercia passed on, his personal holdings encompassed most of what would become Anglia, an entire kingdom onto itself. Adding to his responsibility over thousands of subjects, Eadric was chief advisor to the monarch and chief spokesperson to the Realm. He spoke with the voice of Elfwine Himself, and frequently found himself the peacemaker between his siblings, other members of the Family, and even the King.
In the eightieth year of the life of Elfwine the Bear, when the King and his men were finally in the war to place the failing state of Northumbria within the Kingdom of Lancaster, tales began to emerge from the forests and countryside of Old Mercia of bandits that plagued the roads and toll bridges. They were a curious group, this brigands, as they had, so it was said, a policy of Christian charity amongst them, and their leader made it a point that they were to rob only from the wealthy merchants and nobles that passed through their territory, whilst to the poor they poured down the ill-gotten fruits of their labours. When the Sheriff of Nottingham himself was targeted by these criminals, and then once again on his way back through the wood, Duke Edgar was informed by the irate official…
“Peace, my good sir,” the Duke raised a hand and a smile to the continued ranting of the Sheriff, “I will certainly investigate this matter myself. You say these men occupy Sherwood?”
“Occupy? Infest!” the official blustered, pink-faced. “They sneak around in the dark, stealing from the finest people in the land and rob the coffers out of the taxman’s hands! They must be caught and punished punitively.”
Eadric slouched in his throne and resisted the urge to rest his eyes and head in his hand. T’was always thus regarding the war-torn lands of the Saxons. The coming of Lancaster brought property, peace and security for many, but others slipped through the cracks. He was unsurprised that bandits had again appeared in a corner of his realm, though these thieves seemed to act most unusually for criminals.
He looked over at his serving staff, cleaning the large feasting table to the ide of the hall. “You know of these men, Wulf?”
“Oh, bits and pieces you hear, sire,” the old man shuffled respectfully forwards and bowed his head, “They seem decent folk from what I hear. Folks round these parts and over yon seem to support them, and what they’re doing.”
“They should all be strung up!” roared Nottingham, eliciting a rare scowl, of disproval from Eadric.
“Peace,” he rumbled, pinning the lesser man with a glare cut straight from the King’s cloth. “We will find them and dish out justice as deemed justly, as ever. Though if they are as fleet as you say, it may take some time.”
“I would not worry so, my lord,” the Sheriff sneered a little, “I sent word to His Majesty about these reprobates also.”
Wulf’s gasped echoed around the vacant hall, joined by a dozen or so other onlookers. Eadric had frozen on his throne, before slowly rising from his seat and stalking over to the Sheriff.
“Tell me exactly what you said to the King and how long ago.”
Gone was the friendly and compassionate face, replaced by a man of ice and iron. Stunned by the shift, the official mumbled and stuttered but eventually spilt all he had said on the matter, the constant raiding, the ineptitude of local law enforcement, the twice-timed robbery of his own person and a personal plea for Lancaster’s assistance.
The silence was now deafening. Eadric looked upon the diminished man with an air of great sadness and regret. “I beg you sir, for what may yet occur. Guard!” he shouted for the door, “post a look-out for the King’s message. Same as last time.” He looked back at the now-shaking fellow. “You seem confused. Know that you have embroiled yourself in something far worse than these Merry Men.”
“Sire! The Royal Banner approaches!”
“The King is coming here?” Eadric hissed, “Everyone out! Two guards on the door, two at the gate to escort the party up. Everyone else, clear the street. Clear the Hall. Out, Out!”
He gripped the Sheriff of Nottingham tightly as the servants and guards evaporated, scattering to the four winds in their haste. “I apologise, but it seems His Majesty wishes to speak in-person.”
The sound of yelling, hurried movement and doors banging resonated throughout the holding. Then the only noise that could be heard was a light tapping upon the floor, followed by extremely heavy thuds. Soon afterwards, the taps and thuds entered the Hall and Eadric beheld the sight of his father, noiseless save for the light cane swinging occasionally at his side. What caught his breath, what always caught his breath, was not the absence of footsteps. It was not the blazing fire that roared and spat where two mortal eyes might be. It was the creature that always followed behind the King. The corpse that used to be Secret, the Great Bear Spy, now a gigantic, slightly green furred, milky eyed monster of a thing. It stiffly and blindly followed its Master through the building towards the waiting pair.
King Elfwine certainly did not look his near-eighty years. Without a beard since his last marriage, quite frankly he seemed the same age if not younger than his own son. Dressed in midnight black, the King in the North fixed a terrifying smile upon his favourite child and whispered a greeting.
“My son, so long it has been.” Eadric knelt as no one in Lancaster did save in the presence of He, and kissed his father’s hand.
“Your Majesty, you grace me with your presence.”
Elfwine did not move, though his eyes roamed the refurnished hall with interest. “Yes, I think so. Rise, my good Duke, let us walk together.”
Eadric suppressed a sigh. He had hoped he could remain looking downward whilst his father went about his business. It seemed he was to be blamed after all. He rose however with outward readiness and presented the Sheriff of Nottingham.
“Ah yes, the wordsmith…” Eadric winced as the King plucked the other man up by the neck and inspected him all over. “Frustrating to be called away by such matters but then again, these Merry Men seem so interesting.”
A snap rang out and the Duke closed his eyes.
“My son, we shall go to these woods I think, and seek out Robin Hood and his band of men. A trap of some kind must be concocted. See to it. I will speak to them myself.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“I want them alive and unharmed, my son. If necessary, I will have them and their forest burnt to ash but not before they might prove useful. Such skill and ideals might well be directed practically. The North needs more gamekeepers for catching vermin. We seem to have a never-ending infestation of filth up there. See to it,” the King repeated, before abruptly turning and departing the same way he came.
He did not break his stride when he tossed the body aside.
…
“Well, that was a tad embarrassing.”
Secret snorted. Elfwine scowled at him.
“No, not my arm. It’s fine, as I believe I said not half an hour ago.”
The bear gently licked the offending limb at the wrist. Elfwine looked down at the wet patch for a moment, before muttering a quiet thanks.
“I fear I must beg apology my lord,” Cuthbert said, as he had been saying since day’s beginning. And for the third day in a row.
“Hardly, I too was convinced they would come via Ulster and Northumbria if they came at all. At least Beor’s adventure was brief and successful. We old hands rather have egg on our faces. Outmanoeuvred by the Irish. How humiliating.”
“Still they made mistakes too. Trusting that treachery weasel Owain or whatever his name was as their forward guard was foolish.”
Elfwine smiled. The chieftain was soon pledging his allegiances when Secret had a quiet word with him late at night in his tent. Sadly, for him, his second had already sold a much better offer of leadership, and was much more firmly aware of the consequences of crossing Lancaster and her hungry, hungry bears.
The other Irish rebels learnt soon enough however. The smarter ones stuck to Anglesey and were being dealt with a little less harshly. They would return to their homeland mostly intact. The idiots who banded together and marched on Lancaster City however were a different tale entirely. All their leaders were put down, and the remaining men let go only after paying substantial indemnities. Elfwine did not have much care to rule in Ireland but he would be damned if the Irish did not know who was King in the North.
“Still, I fear we may have tarnished our reputations somewhat. Though then again, it is gratifying that a good half the old tributaries did not decide to stand with their countrymen. We seem to be making progress despite our errors.”
Cuthbert nodded in a half-bow, understanding the intent. There would be no punishment for his men nor himself, and all’s well that ends well. “Thank you sire.”
Elfwine nodded him off and headed through Lancaster’s gates. He was most relieved to see the place in one piece. It seemed the locals were even more so to see him.
Amaudru, the Queen Mother and Regent in Lancaster, met him at the Great Hall.
“My son, my king, we are most pleased to see you in good health.”
“And you as well, dear mother, my regent.” The pair bowed to each other and then, formalities concluded, embraced tightly if briefly. “My wife?” he asked quietly.
“She struggles, but seems fit enough this past week,” his mother replied. She was a little put out still over her first grandchild being…not so, but already loved the mother dearly enough to overlook such things.
“That is…good to hear,” Elfwine decided. “Any pressing matters of import?”
“A missive from Francia,” Amaudru rolled her eyes, “my father is most eager to finally have that alliance off us.”
“Indeed,” Elfwine chuckled. “Any word on his condition?”
Elfwine curled his lip but said nothing. It would seem that the continent was about to erupt into war yet again. Bother it all. “Anything else?”
“Your marshal tried to impound a ‘war tax’ on the lower ward again,” Amaudru answered. “I chastised him at length but if you would do anything else…?”
“No, I think that enough for now. If he tries that again however, he will be in chains and in the Bear Pit cleaning sludge. No one messes with my tax system.”
“Of course. Anything interesting on your travels, dear?”
The king smiled and touched his arm. “As it happens, yes.”
…
Weeks past, and the time for Wilfred to depart her home for Constantinople arrived and went. Elfwine missed her rather immensely, and it was fortunate for his state of mind that Beor had just in time made it back from Irish travels to see his sister off.
Chesterfield had run out the King’s patience however and was rather swiftly booted into commanding a retaining force on the Northumbrian border, watching the civil war that blustered there.
Elfwine and Beor, now approaching his manhood and sixteenth year, sat together on the Hall’s steps, overlooking a late-spring sunset shining beautifully over Lancaster’s streets. Beor was telling his brother all that happened in his adventures in new lands and at war, whilst the king smiled indulgently, and tried to ignore the worry in his stomach at his wife’s condition. She was approaching labour, he knew in his gut, as did the midwives, though all knew it was far too soon for birth.
He was unsure how he would feel about yet another tragedy befalling his lot, but was certain it might irreparably shatter his young bride. She loved her baby already, and would not part with them easily.
“It’ll work out fine, you know.”
Elfwine looked over at his brother. “I have no such confidence with children. Especially my own. Past events have repeatedly shown my utter failure of such things.”
Beor chuckled. “Everyone seems to say that, the first time they have a child. That door guard hasn’t stopped panicking ever since his boy arrived.”
The king did not smile, but sat deep in thought.
“Sire! Your wife births a boy child! A boy child, sire!”
The pair bolted through the opened door, past the excited youth of a servant, and would have stormed into the maiden chamber if not for fussing midwifery blocking their path. It was probably for the best, for the child was indeed sickly and struggling for his first air.
“Move!” a deep voice boomed and the women-folk scattered as the Bishop of Bangor Fawr marched through to the babe. Elfwine relaxed ever so slightly, knowing full well that the only other medico with any experience of childbirth within a day’s ride was that Sea-Devil.
Eadbald was a curiosity at court, ostensibly Anglo-Saxon (as the Franks lazily put it) but in truth his mother came from Pictland and her blood ran true. The man was ambitious, loud, cantankerous and dedicated to his craft. He and Elfwine had not spoken too often, due to the Bishop’s reticence of small talk or social nicety. The king was fairly sure however that the man originally hailed from Lothian up north, which only stuck out to him for it was that duchy that began his northern conquests in the other-while kingdom. It was a wilderness of wolf and men, and quite separate from the rest of Lancaster as it was cut off by Northumbria. Curiously enough, it was Robin of Nottingham that was First Duke over those lands…Elfwine still wondered over the significance of the child appearing many moons before he had before. He was sure it was the same person though.
“Everyone out! I must speak with the King.”
His focus snapped back to the horror of the now. Bangor sounded quite strained. That was not a good sign. Elfwine walked into the room cautiously and took in his panting, blood stained wife first. She seemed weak but in no danger, quite unlike her poor baby.
“How bad?” he murmured.
“Considerable,” the Bishop swore softly. “Nothing is working. I can’t understand it. I delivered twins last month that did not put up such struggle.”
“Keep at it,” the King sighed and moved over to his wife, and gently began cleaning her reddened areas. “It will be alright Ida,” he whispered, “it will. I promise.”
Her eyes found his and he knew she did not believe him, but kept at it regardless. Sometimes that was all you could do. A frail but definite wail of life emitted from the bloodied babe, and it seemed the whole city breathed with him.
“Lord have mercy,” the Bishop crossed himself, “but that was a close thing, I confess. This one bears close watching for tonight. Many nights perhaps. I see no obvious ailments however. He may yet live and grow strong.” He rested the boy into swaddling clothes and nestled him in his mother’s arms. “A good date, at least my Queen. The first of July 789. And, your majesty, a name for his Christian rituals?”
Elfwine stilled and looked at the relieved pair in the bed. Given what he knew, it was not really his place to name the child.
“Elfwine,” Ida said softly.
“Yes, my love?” the King leaned closer.
“No,” Ida smiled beautifully, “him.” The couple stared deep into each other’s eyes, before Elfwine nodded.
“Very well.”
That name, he thought afterwards, I pray to be the most of that boy’s worries.
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Hmm, old Lancaster doesn’t seem like it was a nice place...
Interesting adaptation, by the way... I wonder if the two Robins are the same person?
Interesting adaptation, by the way... I wonder if the two Robins are the same person?
I had been rooting for the Sheriff of Nottingham (probably because subconsciously I assumed he was played by Alan Rickman, and who wouldn't root for such a character) so that was a bit of a disappointing and depressing interlude. As most of Old Lancaster seems to be frankly.
Onto the new Elfwine II, it's not looking good the the lad is it? Complicated birth, sickly and the Bishop unable to help, he's got early tragic death written all over him and will have to defy the odds just to survive long enough to suffer from being Elfwine's son and namesake.
Onto the new Elfwine II, it's not looking good the the lad is it? Complicated birth, sickly and the Bishop unable to help, he's got early tragic death written all over him and will have to defy the odds just to survive long enough to suffer from being Elfwine's son and namesake.
As much as the medevial world is romanticised in fantasy, it really sucked in reality. Elfwine here is an extreme example (he can literally tear you apart himself and pracgices dark magic etc) but in otl, if you mildly irritated a nobleman, a whole lot of pain could be brought down upon you, your family, your friends and anyone else the noble felt like going after (within some reason of course. Most nobles weren't so vindictive or powerful to go cartoonishly overboard like that but with public torture so easily done, they didn't really have to).
As ever with Lancaster, I try to walk the line between good and bad. If you are the average citizen, you are fairly well fed, are not going to be killed and or eaten by men or monster, unlikely to be forced to fight in wars, and are relatively well-protected from famine and other disasters by Lancaster gold.
You are however in the complete power of a once dangerously omicidal maniac who used to conduct genocidal campaigns against godlike beings for fun, and at his worst, killed anyone who spoke to him. Even with a partial reform, he and his servants hold pretty much absolute control over life and death for everyone in their lands. As does the Church. As does the local official. Moving past all the supernatural stuff, if you live in a city or on a trade road, you are going to be in contact with people who can make life incredibly unpleasant for bascially any or no reason.
You do NOT want to live in the past. It's awful.
There will be some debate over that. Even I'm not sure, though I have fond memories of OG Robin Hood.
See above. I really like rickman's sheriff and he will be showing up in future (whether or not Robin Hood does because taxes are inevitable) when we get to owning Mercia. If someone like that in that time and position spoke to the King like he did however (or tried to take a fortified noble house with foot soldiers for that matter), he would probably be swiftly reprimanded/punished/killed.
Old Lancaster is pretty depressing. Even the fun stuff gets grim fast. New Lancaster gives everyone a little more chance to breath and be quirky.
I have absolutely no idea how this kid survived CKII either gameplay wise or narratively, but he surprised me and presumably his parents quite a bit. That being said, being both not of Lancaster and yet firstborn and named Elfwine (with as already explained, a completely unknown father) naturally marks him down for trouble even before we get to the sickness. And yet, good traits otherwise...
As noted, the Old Elfwine was a pretty horrible sounding monster. At least the sheriff didn’t get his heart gouged out with a spoon! Is the new Elfwine going to remain a non-inheriting bastard? Out of curiosity, is Beor the heir until a legitimate son comes along?
Is the new Elfwine going to remain a non-inheriting bastard? Out of curiosity, is Beor the heir until a legitimate son comes along?
Godspeed young Elfwine. The king in the north seems fairly harried on all sides, so at least some relief in a sickly babe surviving. So far.
As noted, the Old Elfwine was a pretty horrible sounding monster. At least the sheriff didn’t get his heart gouged out with a spoon!
A very horrible monster. One always has to make sure to point that out every so often when writing an absolute ruler, just in case the writer or readers get taken in by their propoganda machine.
I see everyone is as enthused for Robin Hood shenanigans as I am.
On inheritance, Lancaster has always been elective monarchy, even before Elfwine, as declared by Old Man Chester. This fits well with Elfwine's character regardless (the heir is whoever I say it is) so yes, Beor is chosen until someone better comes along or they fall out or something. A child becoming monarch just because isn't very much in Lancaster's culture.
As for Elfwine the Younger...Elfwine the Elder is absolute in power and so of course he can legitimise him at any point.
Yeah, the Irish put up a much better fight than anticipated. If course had I done the optimal thing of warring them one at a time I would have easily crushed them. Much more fun to do it this way. One of them even brought the duchy of the Western Isles into it so Scotland just put itself on Lancaster's shitlist.
Sickly doesn't necessarily mean anything after the first few months. If he lives, he's going to be strong and pretty. Useful things if used properly.
Not punitively! Lord have mercy!
I very much liked the image of zombie/wight/litch? Secret stomping around.
I look forward to finding out what happens to robin and friends.
Also, an interesting choice to name a bastard after his father but who am I to judge
Just about the only thing we know about the boys father is that he ISN'T Elfwine, but yes, it's a bit of an obvious peace-measure for the lady and a show of acceptance from the king.
He's come quite a long way, for good and for ill.
I have updates but no Internet. New apartment and new WiFi means I can read (sometimes) but not post.
So then...um...talk amongst yourselves. Remenis on old AARs coming to an end. Argue about the invasion of reddit onto the forums. Go read the ACA nominees (no Internet, sorry!) or if you must, one of my old fairly dead AARs that have crashed and burned in the past (though fear not rabid fans of Little Dux, I have a plan for that. I have...a cunning plan for Albion that I'm scared to attempt and Italian introduction is being rewritten into the kill em all aar as discussed in the [much better] A Royal PrerogativeAAR).
Other AARs worth reading at this time:
A papal history of Italy
Pope fights! And disgusting politcial intrigue. No Catholicism allowed.
1901: essays on the end of the victorian era
Disgustingly detailed history on the epic revival of the Liberal Party and Imperial Federation.
A dream of white russia
An excellent advertisement for a HOI mod
Echoes of a new tomorrow
DensleyBlair finally goes mad and writes his magnum opus on syndicalism in action.
Thorn of the Rose
Stnylan and vampires.
Tale as old as time
Mallorca vs...everyone
For king haakon and the fjords!
He brought it back to life to end it once and for all.
Again.
...in a stunning turn of events for an update post, I'm not actually currently dying of any disease or long-term illness and the delay for posting is minor. I think this therefore may well be accidentally the most positive thing I've posted in a while...oops!
So then...um...talk amongst yourselves. Remenis on old AARs coming to an end. Argue about the invasion of reddit onto the forums. Go read the ACA nominees (no Internet, sorry!) or if you must, one of my old fairly dead AARs that have crashed and burned in the past (though fear not rabid fans of Little Dux, I have a plan for that. I have...a cunning plan for Albion that I'm scared to attempt and Italian introduction is being rewritten into the kill em all aar as discussed in the [much better] A Royal PrerogativeAAR).
Other AARs worth reading at this time:
A papal history of Italy
Pope fights! And disgusting politcial intrigue. No Catholicism allowed.
1901: essays on the end of the victorian era
Disgustingly detailed history on the epic revival of the Liberal Party and Imperial Federation.
A dream of white russia
An excellent advertisement for a HOI mod
Echoes of a new tomorrow
DensleyBlair finally goes mad and writes his magnum opus on syndicalism in action.
Thorn of the Rose
Stnylan and vampires.
Tale as old as time
Mallorca vs...everyone
For king haakon and the fjords!
He brought it back to life to end it once and for all.
Again.
...in a stunning turn of events for an update post, I'm not actually currently dying of any disease or long-term illness and the delay for posting is minor. I think this therefore may well be accidentally the most positive thing I've posted in a while...oops!
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Well I'll certainly miss reading about Elfwine's latest exploits for however long you're unable to post, but glad you're doing alright otherwise.
Thanks.
Honestly it's more father and son hunting and watching the island slowly set get consumed by Lancaster, and I was thinking of bringing together a council of the wise to talk about the weird goings on in this world and why. Could take the opportunity to have my magic users have a chat with each other and the few others in the know (should Elfwine's wife and beor be told?) and have the rare chance to bully Elfwine a little.
Yes, let's have a bit of fun with Elfwine. Let the old wizards harangue him for some arcane breach of the magic circle code or other.
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