Crusaders RolePlay

[Alrowan]

ooc: dont worry, we are still a long way off story wise before we get to antioch... we have all of germany to cross, and then the inturges of constantinople

[Ryttare]

- That's a fine horse u got Johan, where did u get it from?

- Since the lieutanent said I needed a horse to join his personally guard. So i just went to the nearest farm and borrowedone in the name of God, hehehehe.

- Can't i borrow it from you then, im sick of walking

- Haha, no way m8. Now when we are passing throug germany i'll hang on to my horse or i will lose it. They are barbarians u know. Hope the General will do the right thing and put them in the first line, soaking up all the arrows.

- We are all christian, remember Johan.

- Yeah,yeah. I know. Well I'm of to eat with the fine men in the tents, enjoy your soup, hehe.

[Dramicus]

Quote[/b] (Alrowan @ Feb. 09 2003,03:11)]ooc: dont worry, we are still a long way off story wise before we get to antioch... we have all of germany to cross, and then the inturges of constantinople

ooc: well I just wanted to make sure I got that part...

[DemonArchangel]

Emperor Alexius was wandering the palace grounds rather aimlessly, occasionally greeting members of his staff and important nobles. Alexius was tired of waiting for those Latin dogs to come, but first they had to do the dirty work of fighting off the Seljuks before Alexius could betray them, but of course, Alexius could take the land back by himself but, he was lazy, lazy man who didn't want to ride out at the head of his troops, even though he could, and despite the fact that the Seljuks were pausing for breath and weren't in a mood to attack, Alexius didn't want to go out and fight the Turks, he was saving his energy on creating a Western European empire, maybe something that included Rome. Alexius estimated that the Latin dogs would take another three months to get to the Holy Land, a decent amount of time to set up an ambush, or maybe a decent amount of time to attack the Turks, but soon enough, something was going to go down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eadwulf looked at the man sitting next to him and tried to enjoy the wild boar he killed himself on foot just a few hours ago, that man who went by the name of Jonah was just a filthy thief who didn't care about the true purpose of the crusade and sought only wealth. The crusade was riddled with godless leeches like Jonah, but they would serve their purpose soaking up Fatimid and Seljuk arrows, well hopefully, because otherwise, if people like them ruled the holy land, god help us all...

[Monk]

ooc: since i was writing alittle ahead of u all ill stop now and wait a few days before i continue. it really dont matter to me since Jeremiah (my character) is stuck in Syria with 3 Islamic Travelers heading towards Antioch. he will need to cross all of that before he can reach his destination, and it will probly take him a few weeks . so keep those great stories coming.

[DemonArchangel]

ooc: bump

[Dramicus]

Quote[/b] (Monk @ Feb. 09 2003,20:53)]ooc: since i was writing alittle ahead of u all ill stop now and wait a few days before i continue. it really dont matter to me since Jeremiah (my character) is stuck in Syria with 3 Islamic Travelers heading towards Antioch. he will need to cross all of that before he can reach his destination, and it will probly take him a few weeks . so keep those great stories coming.

same here...

[thrawn]

IC:

Voltar Ericson stared bleakly into his cup. It had been two weeks since his arrival in Constantinople and for two weeks he had been denied access to the palace. His most prized possesion, a huge doublesided ax lay next to him on the bench. This weak Eastern wine was not helping his mood, and neither were the fat Greeks next to him arguing over the price of wool. The big man grunted and glared at the bickering merchants, his large golden locks tumbling over his shoulder. One of the men was drunk already and it was just the start of the afternoon.
Can I help you? the Greek asked in a scratchy voice.
Voltar's eyes narrowed. Go away he spoke.
The Greek cocked his head to the side and said go away imitating Voltar's rough accent.
The move was so fast that the merchant didnt even re-act. Voltar swiped the ax and slammed it down between the man's legs nearly splitting the bench in two. A small rapidly expanding spot appeared on the merchants trousers when he realized the blade was a mere inch from making him much less of a man. The drunk merchant tumbled from the bench and ran headlong from the tavern.
Voltar sighed and turned back to his drink eying the bartender. He realized that the other merchant hadn't even blinked or moved from the bench.
Not joining your friend? Voltar asked staring into the cup.
Him? I hardly know him The man spoke norse flawlessly.
Voltar turned. The fat Greek stared at him.
Let me guess, Varagian?
No, not yet, Voltar said. I haven't been able to get to the righ people.
The greek eyed him shrewdly. I can help, I am a personal 'friend' of the Emperor's nephew. But there is a price.
Voltar suddenly lost all interest in his drink. What do you want?
That is a very simple question with a very long complex answer my friend.

to be continued...

[Alrowan]

OOC:

holy $#%@

this has been resurected

im sorry guys but i cant be GM anymore here.. uni will take up a lot of my spare time, but im sure you guys know the story

[thrawn]

OOC: I have no idea if people are still posting for this but I'll keep doing it with the hopes that others will eventually return/join...

IC:

There is an inn down the street and to your left. Said the merchant. You will find a man that answers to the name Loc, and then you will kill him.
Voltar paused. Kill him?
I assume it doesnt make you squeamish norseman.
No, but?
You have something I need, a service. You wish for me to do you a service as well. A simple trade. he held out his hands.
Why.
Unnecessary. He simply needs to die. You will understand why.
Voltar's blue eyes narrowed. I don't like mysteries merchant.
The fat man smiled. You will like Loc even less, believe me.
Voltar stared at him a moment, then downed his wine in a single gulp.
You're coming with. The merchant's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to object.
Why? Voltar asked for him dragging the merchant by the collar out the door. Collateral on the promise you just made me.
The merchant shook the viking off angrily but walked toward the inn reluctantly. Voltar, ax in hand, strolled after him.

[Dramicus]

Quote[/b] (thrawn @ Aug. 06 2003,16:34)]The merchant shook the viking off angrily but walked toward the inn reluctantly. Voltar, ax in hand, strolled after him.

ooc: nice....

[thrawn]

The inn was near empty. About a halfdozen patrons sat near the barkeep. Close to the back of the inn a group of young men were hundled. None of them were heavily armed, but all carried small swords. Voltar turned to stare at the merchant.
Which one?
The merchant whispered. The man with the green cloth wrapped around his forehead, I think.
You don't know what he looks like?
No the merchant hissed back. The large viking sighed. Time for a more direct approach. Voltar stepped inside and walked to the middle of the room. Then, wihtout preamble he slammed his ax down and buried it in the center of a round oak table. Silence reigned and every eye centered on him.
I'm looking for Loc. Voltar said, eyeing the man with the green headband.
Silence.
The merchant slowly began to step away from the viking.
What do you want? the green headband wearer asked.
Are you Loc? Voltar fingered the top of his ax that was not buried in the wood.
The man sketched a bow. I am.
Voltar ripped the ax from the table, splinters flew and the table cracked and sagged from the damage.
Then you can die. Voltar advanced ax in hand. Loc smiled and drew his sword, and so did three of the men standing with him.
The first charged Voltar while Loc's other friends moved to the right and left to get behind him. The man's roar of courage turned into a scream of pain as Voltar ducked the first blow and severed the arm that launched it. With his free hand he flung a small oak stool at his left opponent. The man ducked and the stool felled the unfortunate barkeep who was behind him. This allowed Voltar time to focus on his right. This man swung two chops at Voltar, both probes. The second chop the viking caught on his ax knocking the sword away. Steping forward he grabbed the man by the collar and launched him toward Loc. Loc sidesteped and the man flattened a small table. The stool dodger charged at Voltar's back. Seizing another stool Voltar used it as a shield to knock aside the first blow. The second he caught high on his ax. The men struggled for a brief second, weapons locked. Voltar smashed the stool into the man's midsection batting him away.
Loc was still in the same place. Bravo. he said. I see Nicollo has finally recruited someone to stop my preaching.
Voltar paused. Your what?
Preaching.
The merchant simply shook his head and glared. Kill him norseman.
Voltar ignored him. What are you doing Loc?
I am an emmissary from Rome, here on the business of the Pope.
Right. Voltar began to walk forward. Loc retreat back still speaking.
His holiness has requested me to come to this city and provide him with intelligence regarding the current attitude toward our Crusade.
Voltar kept walk ax at the ready. Loc's back hit the far wall.
Are you not a Catholic? Dammit man whats wrong with you? Loc glared angrily at the advancing viking who was a mere step away now.
Voltar pinned Loc against the wall with his ax handle. I worship coin, and its luster is my god. Voltar growled. Then work for me, for us, I will pay you. Voltar paused. How much?
The fat man said Kill him now and be done with it, he can't offer you anything
Voltar repeated How much?
The merchant's robes whisked and he whipped a knife at Voltars back. Voltar turned but the knife caught his shoulder before glancing off. He tossed Loc into a chair and hurled his ax at the merchant. The blade buried in the fat man's head knocking him off his feet.
Turning back to Loc he helped the man stand.
After cleaning off his ax he turned to Loc.
So how much? Don't cross me unless you think your head is thicker than the greeks.
Loc smiled weakly.

To be continued...

[thrawn]

IC (of course&#33

Listen, Loc said. The two men were in a cramped room above the brutal scene in the bar. Loc's personal effects were cluttered about. He did seem to have some kind of tie to the Pope. He had paraded his Papal Seal about infront of Voltar but the viking was unimpressed. Papers meant nothing to him. I told you I don't have any money to give you NOW.
The viking sat opposite Loc fingering his massive doubled sided ax.
You told me you could pay me. The blue eyes glared.
I didn't say when. Loc's courage, although shaky was still there.
Voltar rose from his seat, towering over the slender emmissary.
When.
Loc knew he had to choose his words carefully, so he stalled.
What did the greek offer?
Voltar caressed the ax lovingly. A position in the Varangian Guard. Which pays for itself as you know.
Loc collapsed back against his seat. He wiped his damp brow. Why didnt you say so? It is done tomorrow. You will be a Varangian for Alexius.
Loc turned from the big man. You can go and I will send for you tomorrow after the arrangements have been made. Loc began hurriedly scrawling something on a blank parchment. The loud screech of wood on wood tore Loc away from his scribbling.
Voltar had moved the bed over and was climbing into it.
What are you doing? Loc asked slightly perplexed.
Taking a nap.
Loc paused for a minute then returned to his desk.
A short while the viking was snoring at volume. Loc tiptoed up to the bed and peered at Voltar. Drawing no reaction from the sleeping giant he decided to sneak past. With blinding speed an arm lashed out and assumed a painful grip on Loc's arm. Loc stopped breathing. Risking a look at Voltar he saw the norseman was wide awake. Shaking free of the viking he retreated back to his desk.
Voltar simply stared at him.
Maybe I'll take a nap too. Loc stammered. Putting his head down on the desk Loc quickly drifted off.
Voltar laid back and smiled. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.

t b c ...

[thrawn]

IC:
The processor was a short man, garbed in a volumous robe emblazoned with the royal seal. Loc merely carried a bible and wore a cross that was not large, but prominently displayed.
Good day Nicearus. The robed man nodded.
Loc. What can the Emperor's Hand do for you today? The thin man eyed Voltar appraisingly.
Loc stepped between the seated man and the viking. His name is Voltar... Loc turned slightly.
Voltar folded his arms. Ericsson.
He's looking for 'employment'.
You dont say. THe official played with his ear as he thought. I would normally say add him to the Varangian lists but there are dozens waiting already. His Majesty has not commissioned a new regiment. Probably due to the support the Crusade will bring to his Empire. I'm sorry.
Voltar frowned. Loc began to sweat. Nicearus, as a show of goodwill between your Emperor and the Pope, as a personal boon to me His Holiness's embassy, I request that he be commisssioned as a Varangian.
The thin man leaned back in his chair and idly rubbed his hand across his face.
You ask much Loc. Loc smiled weakly. All right. After a beat. You two Nicearus gestured to a pair of lightly armed guards. Escort Derickson to the barracks.
Voltar growled Its Ericsson.
Whatever. He handed the nearest guard a parchment. My compliments to General Logran.
Sir.
The guards marched the viking away. Neither stood very close to the burly norseman, keeping out of arms reach with hands on their sword hilts.
Voltar ignored them.

Nicearus stood after Loc had left. So the Papacy was trying to insert agents into the Varangian Guard. Assassins or simply informants? It mattered not. This Ericsson would have to be watched, and others screened more rigourously. Loc was not a devious man, but his superiours were. There must be a real spy among them. This viking was simply a diversion. Nicearus hurried up the palace steps. Alexius was a busy man but he demanded to know every movement of the Papal agents. Hopefully his Majesty is in a good mood today...

[thrawn]

IC
Voltar ducked into a smell dusty room. The barracks were quiet at the moment. The two nervous guards followed him into the room. A huge man was seated at the end of the table, face hidden in shadow.
Sir. The parchment carrier saluted.
The man in the chair grunted.
This man comes from Nicearus. Voltar crossed his arms.
His name is Derickson. Voltar rolled his eyes.
He is a new addition to your regiment.
Silence. The big man's breathing was the only sound.
The guard began to lose it. He started to sweat and shuffle his feet.
Out.
The two men practically sprinted out of the office. Voltar rested his ax head on the ground and leaded on the handle with both hands.
General Logran I pressume.
The hulk in the chair got up slowly. The man was slightly taller than Voltar and far heavier. He paced slowly over to where the viking leaned on his ax. A hand stretched out.
Magnificent weapon.
Voltar extended it handle first. It was my brother's. General Logran gripped it expertly and executed several cuts. Why did he part from it. the General spoke in Greek this time. Voltar paused. You must learn Greek. the large man said switching back to Norse. Why did he part from it?
Voltar turned away. He was betrayed.
Silence.
Voltar turned back taking the ax back as well.
The big man stepped into the light. A surprisingly pleasant face greeted the viking. A scar running from below the General's left eye to the back edge of his jaw stretched uncomfortably as the man smiled.
It says in your papers that you were commissioned through the good grace of the Pope's influence.
Voltar stiffened and opened his mouth to speak.
A meaty hand rested on his shoulder stopping him.
You will be watched. Not just by me. But by the Emperor's agents. The hand began to squeeze. Voltar wanted to break away. There is a simple rule to being a Varangian. Loyalty to your officers. I dont care whose God you worship. I don't what you do out of service. I don't care if you fancy men or women, or both. The hand was digging now and Voltar's eyes narrowed as the pain increased. He kept his face clear of emotion. You will follow orders. You will fight fearlessly. You will kill without hesitation or question. Voltar winced slightly as the hand tightened still, his vision began to blur with the pain. Then he was released and nearly gasped with relief.
Tomorrow you become a Varangian. If you survive.
The General lumbered out of the room leaving Voltar to massage a seriously abused neck and shoulder. Small discoloration of the skin showed serious bruising to come. Shrugging off the pain Voltar knocked his ax back over his other shoulder and followed the General out.

[thrawn]

Nicearus gained audience with Alexius himself that afternoon. The Emperor was strolling in the palace gardens when Nicearus found him.
Your Majesty he began. The Emperor turned and listened to his brief tale.
So the Pope hopes to infiltrate the Varangian? Too bad relgious sway does not hold over those men. He eyed Nicearus carefully. Wait a moment. I've seen you before haven't I?
Nicearus started to pace backwards. I'm sure we have met on several occasions your majesty.
No, this was something specific. Something embarrassing. Nicearus began to back away more quickly trying not to trip. Alexius advanced.
Something about mail The Emperor stroked his chin.
Aha I have it
Nicearus turned ashen.
It was that cursed junk mail that keeps cluttering the mail room and tying up pigeons
The Emperor siezed Nicearus with both hands and lifted him by the collar.
Enlarge your manhood in 14 days or less It was you who started that
Your majesty I'm sorry, it seemed like a harmless investment, to send several to your friends and then get a sample free.
They wont stop sending them The King roared.
Then he brought his voice down. Does it work? he whispered. Nicearus felt like throwing up.

OOC: an amage to the late poster on this topic DemonArchangel whose wit doth excede mine own

[Sigurd]

This is actually good reading... keep it coming. I think there are several of us who like good stories. The lack of responding is due to, not willing to interrupt a good story…

I thought well and hard on how to insert a Norse character into this role-play, but reading about the first crusades I decided it would be far-fetched having a Noble son from the city of Bergen/Bjørgvin (founded 1070AD) go and join Urban II’s call for a crusade or the previous People’s crusade by Peter the Hermit… They where barely christened in Norway at that time. The official dates say 1030AD, but that was by force and the blade… It took many, many years before the costal Jarls(Earls) embraced white-Christ and the Christian way.

[kataphraktoi]

Letters of Constantine of Laodicea:
A letter to his fellow monks

From the letters of my friends in Constantinople, I have been able to gain an idea of what to expect from these 'warriots' from the West. They are called 'Franks' or as the government officials like my young nephew Michael Cephalius the 'Latinikon'. They are unlike normal men: tall, fair, brutish and barbaric. A partnership in fear and wonder greets these westerners in the lands they will soon pass. Fear: because of their dedication to the violence and warfare, it is as if they live a life of one long war. Wonder: because not even the Christian Faith can tame their savagery and animal-like behaviour.

Although one suspects that the Patriarch in Rome is in deep heresy and such cannot preach the true faith as our venerable Eastern fathers can. Oh Orthodoxy When will you prevail

One thing that concerns me the most and vexes me the most is the indiscriminate conduct of these 'Franks'.

From another missive from my nephew, they slaughter more of our Christian brethren than the cursed Ishmaelities and the Hagarenes and the Saracens

Take care, hide your gold, hide our icons and hide the sacred word deep in the earth. For I am told these 'Franks' have a sixth sense to smell out gold A gift no doubt from God I will leave you to attend your business now.

Kyrie Eleison

Constantine Basilicius of Laodicea in Syria

[DemonArchangel]

OOC: Thx Thrawn

Emperor Alexius carefully put Nicearus down, being careful not to throw him against the wall. Years of warfare against the Turks had given him a high command rating and its attendant increases in valor, which gave him some sort of superhuman strength. Alexius preferred not to dwell on it, as it confused him more than slightly. In reality, the Turks were easy enough to deal with if you kept your head level enough, but the Westerners were another thing indeed, he needed to deal with them and deal with them severely. By the time this was all said and done, the Western Roman empire and the Eastern Roman Empire will be one again and....- Suddenly, Alexius remembered his question to Nicearus: Did the manhood formula work? Alexius almost instinctively grabbed his crotch in a manner similar to what an androgynous metamorphasizing musician with a deformed nose would do 900 years later. Alexius shuffled his his heels backwards across the marble and granite tiling of the gardens, spun around on his scarlet shoes; then gave a loud WOO before turning towards Nicearus again.

[DemonArchangel]

Anna walked about the gardens, holding a thick roll of parchment with all sorts of writings, notes and maybe the beginnings of occasional Ye Olde adult novels involving her, and good looking, well muscled men. Her father glided across garden, grabbing his crotch in a most unseemly manner not fit for royalty, but she didn't notice, nor did she care that much. She didn't have a manhood to enlarge, so as a corollary, she shouldn't give a flying f**k about the enlargement of the male genital area. Anna continued to scribble on her parchment innumerable observations about Alexius and his activities, this was going to make one GOOD book when she was finished with it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Egyptian sultan, waking up from his morning nap; called for his Qadi-Al-Quda. The Qadi-Al-Quda's robes were looking disheveled and the man himself was looking extremely tired. Well, this narrator couldn't blame the Qadi-Al-Quda, it was 3 in the morning and a particularly large Abyssianian had been sent to drag the Qadi-Al-Quda out of his bed to audience with the Sultan.

Whaddya want f**kface? said the Qadi-Al-Quda groggily.

Well, any word on Emperor Alexius' reply yet? asked the Sultan.

You f**king idiot He wrote to you You're supposed to f**king ask if WE got a reply from him dipsh*t

Well, yes, that's what I meant, uh.... uhm.... I'M HUNGRY GET ME SOME FOOD The Qadi Al Quda sighed and gave a one fingered salute to the Sultan before going down to the kitchens, the Sultan immediately dozed off again, drool sliding down his chin.

[thrawn]

It was dark when then came to get him. Rough hands siezed Voltar violently. The viking was awake in an instant. He gripped the wrist of one offender and twisted hard. The man spun and bounced noisily off of the wall. A second assailant crashed into Voltar pinning him against the near wall. Voltar began to grapple with the smaller man when a light appeared in the doorway.
Good morning Voltar. It was Logran. With a snarl the viking tossed the second man to the floor.
The two men gathered themselves and came at Voltar again.
Enough. The word was spoken evenly but it lashed the advancing men like a whip. Both trembled and glared at the burly viking but both stopped moving.
Time to start your day. Tomorrow you can worry about beauty sleep. Follow me.
Voltar started forward. As he passed he heard on of his attackers mutter Not that beauty sleep would do him much good as he rubbed his abused skull.
Voltar grinned.

The morning mist still clung to the sand. Voltar could smell the must of dawn. The sun would be up soon. Logran paced ahead of him, visible only by the faint candle light. The General stooped and retrieved something from the ground. He tossed it casually to Voltar. The viking snatched it from the air with ease. An oaken staff. When he looked up the General was gone. He moves well for someone that large. Spinning the staff in his hands Voltar peered about. Today was certainly going to be different.
He could see a shadow approaching accompanied with the creak of leather boots. He readied the staff and waited.

[DemonArchangel]

*BUMP

[thrawn]

A blade whistled through the mist. Voltar barely caught it on his staff. The shade and the viking stood locked for a moment with the trembling blade of a sword inches from Voltars nose. Then with a slight twist Voltar knocked aside the swords and simultaneously launched a blow at the shadow's head. The staff sailed through nothing as the shadow danced backwards. The sword whistled again. Again Voltar turned it aside only this time he was nearly sliced by a second sword. Voltar swung wide and the staff was caught on both swords. Moving backwards now the viking struggled to knock aside all the blows. Both blades came in from above and Voltar blocked with his staff. A kick to the mid-section sent him sprawling backwards. A fistfull of sand was all the viking could grab as he tumbled over. The shade stepped over him and delivered another blow. This time the sword stuck in the staff. The other end of the oak cracked the shade neatly in the head. Voltar twisted up and tossed the sand at the shadow. A curse and several staff blows later the dark figure was unconscious. Voltar snatched up the blades. Simple short swords but certainly more useful than the overgrown stick he had just been using. The sun started to peak out and the viking could see he was in a small courtyard. The figure on the ground remained motionless but turned out to be a thickmuscled man in a dark tunic. A small trickle of blood tumbled from the man's forehead.

[thrawn]

Behind him he heard the squeak of iron hinges. A small door opened in southren corner of the yard and two very large men squeezed through it. They looked like mirror images. So much so that Voltar both crossed himself expecting one to disappear. Neither behemoth disappear. They drew longswords and moved about him to divide his attention. Neither wore shirts and their hard bodies were quite scarred. The both smiled at the same time. The viking growled. Just as they were opposite of each other with Voltar in between the viking struck. He charged at the man in front of him hoping to down him to even the odds. He caught a longsword swipe on his sword and cut forward but the large man was limber too and danced away. Hearing the other tramp up behind Voltar ducked instinctively and rolled to his right. The twin's blade flashed where the viking stood. Voltar rolled to his feet and held out his blades. Again the two circle. Again Voltar charged and was frustrated. The viking could feel that he was getting tired. The two men danced reversing direction. Again the charge, and the retreat. Each twin smiled. Again the charge. And again the retreat. Voltar could feel the sweat run down his back. His assailants reverse direction again. This time the viking stumbled to match. The man behind him charged in grinning. Voltar rolled backwards and came up inside the running man's reach. A flick of a shortsword caught the suprised attacker on the thigh. A second flick sent the man's sword tumbling. With practiced ease the viking whipped an elbow around and caught the swordless giant inbetween the eyes. The large man made a satisfying thud as he hit the sand. The last twin came forward cautiously. Voltar circled left and stumbled again. This time the man wasn't having any of it and so Voltar reversed to the left trying to get on his attacker's weak side. Both men were panting heavily.

[thrawn]

This time the big man went down in a stumble. Voltar jumped forward with a yell. The big man attempted the same roll trick Voltar had just used except the viking was ready for it. With an air of indifference Voltar simply kicked out and forward catching the attacker in the forehead with the heal of his foot. The big man sat stupidly in the dust and then flopped over backwards. Another satisfying thud. There were now three unconscious men laying in the courtyard a sweating standing viking.
Time to end this game.
Voltar grabbed the dark clothed man by the collar and haul him up to a vertical position. He hung like a wet rag in the viking's fist. Casually Voltar pinned the man against the courtyard wall and pulled back his sword to deliver a blow. No response. Damn.
With a snarl Voltar threw the limp body aside. Logran had called his bluff. He couldn't just kill a defenseless man. Voltar looked down and then smiled. A non-permanment injury might do the trick. The man was beginning to come to and screamed aloud when Voltar broke his little finger with a twist.
Still nothing. Another quick snap and a scream. He has eight more fingers Logran, then I move on to bigger bones Voltar called out and reached down to snap a third. Then Voltar froze as something whistled close to him. His eyes widened slightly as he peered at the arrow quivering in the ground less than a finger's breadth away from his right foot.
Enough. Logran appeared at the end of the courtyard. Let him go Voltar. The viking glared at Logran. Another arrow, this time near the left foot. Voltar felt like jumping but he held on hard and maintained his cool, and his grip on the man.
Let him go or do I need to convince you further? Logran's bushy eyebrows raised slightly. The next arrow will go between your eyes.
Reluctantly Voltar released the man, who scurried out of sight holding his crippled hand.
Well, I see you are a proficient fighter. But not a mindless killer. Fortunate for you, more fortunate I believe for your advesaries.
Voltar grunted. He wanted water.
Let me show you to your room. The general turned away.
The burly viking followed.
Rest was all Logran said, then he left.
Voltar peered about his small quarters and noticed the stack of equipment in the corner. Purple attire and some partially purple stained armor lay in a heap.
The wenches always said I look good in purple the viking thought sourly as he inspected his new wardrobe.

[DemonArchangel]

LOL no wonder Varangian guards are the best in the game.

[thrawn]

OOC: A brief hx info session about the Varangian Guard
and first a personal aside...
I had never heard of these soldiers...being primarily interested in different areas of hx. But after starting (but not finishing...i get bored...) a campaign with the Byzantine Empire and really kicking ass with these soldiers I found I really liked 'em. So here is some basic on the V. Guard.

Most Varangian Guards were Anglo-saxon or Viking/Russian Mercs. Physically they were taller, bigger, and paler than most of the subject in the Byzantine Empire at the time. The spoke Old Norse or Old English and most didn't understand a lick of Greek, making interpreters necessary in each unit of Guardsmen. They were 'christian' supposedly but many did not worship the white christ. Most wore a cross or a hammer of thor...depending on where they were in religious conversion. The Guardsmen typically retained their customs and this coupled with their strange appearance added to the legendary nature of the Guard from the common populace.
There is evidence that they were mounted infantry, usually riding horses to the battle and then dismounting to fight. During a campaign they camped right next to the Emperor's tent and set up their own tents, which were standard byz army issue. They slept around the middle pole of the tent facing outward so they could respond to an emergency. Most Varangians had standard issue chainmail, scalemail, or lamellar klibanion, with a basic shield of kite or circular design. Lamellar kilbanion was their favoured type of armor. Their calling cards were the massive two-handed Viking axes they carried. Most either had axes or spears, swords were reserved for officers and soldiers of wealth. Units had their own commanders (like General Logran) that answered to either the Akolouthos (the commander-in-chief of all Varangians) or the ranking Stratego (byz general) and ultimately the Emperor.
When arriving in Constantinople most potential V. Guard did not have much in the way of equipment (Voltar + ax and clothes is about all the typical hopeful would have). The rest of their equipment was supplied by the byz military. In Constantinople the V. Guard were stationed in several areas. The first is the Hodegon monastery, near the Mangana – a palace and arsenal at the northeastern end of the City. This was thought to be their HQ. Also units were stationed at the Boukoleon Palace, at the Brazen Gate near the Hippodrome, and at the Blachernae (Vlachernai) Palace at the northern end of the land walls. City Guardsmen saw far less battle action, but were more involved in the political intrigues of the City. Guardsmen were politically and religiously and ethnically unattached and made a perfect strong arm force for the Emperor that couldn't be swayed by these factors. They held a strong Western sense of succession of power in the King/Emperor and remain faithful to the Emperor in the majority of circumstances (except for Micheal V in 1042..but that is a whole other story...). After 1204 and the 4th Crusade the Varangian guard became a ceremonial entity having lost much of its strength and power.

well thats a bit of history, and there is much more. Several things I have posted are open for debate since history is a largely interpretable thing and opinions do differ, but this is the information that I have/will be going off of. If anyone would like to update/inform/debate/question/ask me about anything concerning V. Guards dont hesitate to ask. I am not an expert, but I do/am doing lots of reading and research on them. So drop me a line at my email address or post something here OOC if you like. Hope that was informative at least.

Now back to Voltar and his semi-purple armor...

[thrawn]

General Logran barged back into the room about two hours later. Voltar looked up from his armor.
Get dressed
The viking reached for his armor.
Just tunic and pants
Flexing his outstretched fingers with irritation Voltar donned the plain clothes, shedding his old worn garments.
Come with me
Voltar followed the big General out of the small room. They moved a short distance through the barracks coming to another cramped area. A desk and two chairs sat in the middle of the room. The surface of the desk was littered with parchments strewn about. A small candle burned near the end of the table and a semi-solid stream of yellow wax puddled unceramoniously on the floor.
Sit
The viking sat heavily in the oak chair. Logran took a seat opposite of him.
You are not a spy.
Voltar laughed.
You are not an agent of the Pope.
Voltar scowled. No
Are you religious?
The viking grabbed a handfull of coppers lying on the table and spilled them back. Coin. No gods
The General smiled. He reached into his desk and pulled out a bag the size of a grapefruit and placed on top of the papers. Then he pulled out a cross and laid it next to the bag. Voltar frowned.
Why the cross.
Because of the gold Logran shook the bag. I want you to wear it. The viking crossed his arms.
Why
Logran smiled. Just wear it Voltar
Shrugging he slipped the pewter necklace over his head and snatched the bag.
Is that it? Voltar asked.
Logran nodded. Get some sleep, we move you tomorrow to your new home.
Voltar rose to leave.
Present yourself in full armor tomorrow.
He peered at Logran and raised an eyebrow.
One always must look one's best when one meets the Emperor.
Voltar's eyes widened.
Logran simply grinned.

[DemonArchangel]

ooc; hey thrawn, answer my question about the manhood formula. That way, the emperor won't be stuck in limbo in the imperial gardens when the varangian comes to meet him.

[thrawn]

OOC: Sorry DemonArchangel, I'll get right on it. Also as another aside I just read 'the Crusader' by Micheal Alexander Eisner. It is the account of Francisco Montcada (a son of the most powerful vassal to King Jaime) He takes up the cross and is present at the battle of torron and at the fall of the Krak de Chevalliers to the infedels. It is interesting reading, especially on how influential the catholic church is an how the bible is twisted to serve those who 'serve' it. Very good reading.
Anyways...back to the manhood formula etc etc etc.