Blood Red Hand: The Dukes of Ulster

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Ok, I will do what I wanted to do in the first place. I didn't use this idea for their meeting because the game won't allow it, but so what? Because this started out as a so called AAR I had to keep it recogniseable to the game, now I will enact my plan to write this again as a real story, free of game related constraints. The more I think about it the more I can change, barring that final battle and the other event. However the final battle merely needs two specific characters, a couple of armies, and a fort. I can alter the place quite easily, if I ignore the game totally.

It is not very spymaster like of Margaret, but it is very Margaret like of her http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...ns/gc-grin.gif Tweaking...

Forget any of this exists from Nuala's last fainting fit, that includes the characterisation of Sigtryg in a friendly mood.

The early morning light was just growing strong enough to be called daytime, rather than dawn as Culad put the finishing touches to his dress. Over a fine white linen shirt he wore a red woollen tunic with large bands of embroidery about the cuffs, neck and hem. The tunic was a different cut to Culad’s usual choice, reaching down to the middle of his shins, with wide sleeves that came to just below the elbows in the latest fashion. Tight fitting brown hose, also the latest thing, a richly decorated belt with matching dagger, and a pair of new shoes finished the basic effect. Margaret handed her husband his best sword, with the red hand of Ulster enamelled on the pommel and fancy, jewel covered sheath and belt. Culad fastened the belt about his waist, and settled the sword comfortably on his hip, before Margaret flung his dark red cloak about his shoulders and fastened it at his neck with a gold broach. The final item was the most important for today’s show - the ring with his ducal seal cut deep into the gemstone. Margaret stepped back to admire the effect, Culad looked every inch the duke he was, until he tugged at his collar, loosening it, “I feel like some blasted poncy Norman baron, an overly hot poncy baron who hasn’t the sense not to wear heavy wool in the midst of summer.” Neatening Culad’s collar again Margaret said sweetly, “Would you rather go in full armour? I can arrange that, if you prefer. Then you’ll have reason for complaint.”
“You’re heartless” accused Culad.
“I try.” retorted Margaret, “Now you’re sure you’re clear on all that information I gave you?”
“Yes, just the same as the last three times you asked this morning.”
“If I don’t ask continuously you’ll forget some important detail, so you’re certain you know everything you need?”
“Yes”
“See? Overconfident – you don’t know everything. There is one final piece of information you need, although this one is more for your reference than for blabbing about where all and sundry can hear. Congratulations, daddy.”
Culad made a strange noise that sounded rather like “Urk”, and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.
Margaret’s smile grew, “So don’t do anything daft with our future headache’s inheritance today.”

Midmorning; the hot summer sun beat down on the empty field just outside the village of Ferta Nime. Culad had made certain he arrived before Sigtryg, and he sat waiting in one of the two chairs placed out of earshot of the spectators in the centre of the field. Sigtryg arrived at the agreed time, if he was fazed by Culad’s early arrival he didn’t show it. Instead he flashed an easy grin, “So, at last the two dukes of Ulster meet. Nice to see you again, Culad.”
Culad held up his left hand, displaying his signet ring, “There’s only one duke of Ulster; I have that title.”
“And I’ve a claim to it, so there’s no reason to get snotty just because you’re holding the fancy seal.”
Sigtryg sat in the empty chair, lounging back and hooking his thumbs through his belt, “I see you’re still keen on showing off needlessly, staying sat like my superior instead of rising to greet me like an equal. I care not.”
“I never thought for the barest moment that you would, I was thinking more for the eager crowd watching at a distance.”
“Yes, that’s so and I’m thinking of their presence also. They’ve just seen you insult me, and then when you’re revoking my title again they’ll be seeing a man badly treated by his liege and doing the only thing he can. You’ve hung yourself, Culad.”
“From a distance they’ll not know what we say, and since I’m the duke and you’re the count I stay seated. Protocol, no more, no less.”
“Oh, true, very true but they’ll see me jump up and start shouting on about how you do me grave and unfair insult, and they’ll see you sat about like a would be king, dressed like some Norman fop, and I think they’ll be believing.” Culad bowed his head, beaten.
Sigtryg smirked, “And so once again you prove you learned nothing much from all those years I spent as your tutor. Ah well, a good thing for me, if not overly gratifying to my self-esteem. So I’m keeping my title, you try to keep yours, and for now let’s catch up. How’s Margaret?”
“Fine.” ground out Culad.
Sigtryg sorrowfully shook his head, “Fine, and that’s the best you can be doing? I’d have thought more, I’m hearing plenty about the pair of you, and from that rocky start you’re doing grand.” Culad said nothing, Sigtryg pursued the point, “I’d asked for her myself, you know? You snatched her right from my grasp, another day and she’d have been signed and sealed as my intended. You only got her because the Bastard in England wanted the best prestige from his new Irish connection, and a duke’s worth more than a mere count. I was as proud of you as I was furious – that was a worthy move you played.” When Culad still said nothing Sigtryg shrugged his shoulders and nonchalantly, “Of course when she’s a widow William the Bastard’ll be eager to marry her off again, so I think I’ll be applying again. Not for me, you understand, pretty young widows with no lands attached are far more fun when you’re not paying for a wedding yourself. Then there’s the small fact I’m already married, even if it is to that eternal second place called Brigida – you know I barely even like the woman, see what you’ve stuck me with for life? I’d thought my cousin up from the country might like a Saxon bride, my cousin Seoán, the uneducated country bumpkin who speaks with a yokel dialect so think even I can barely understand him.” Culad kept his peace, Sigtryg outlined the obvious end of his plan, still trying to get a rise out of him, “Of course my cousin’s a nice cooperative sort who’ll not mind if I console his poor, beautiful young wife on her ill fortune…”
Culad just laughed, “Stop talking from your rear end – the English king’d never hand off the last remaining daughter of the old Atheling royal line to a country cousin of a mere count. And you’d not be doing any consoling, cousin willing or no, because that’d go against those ideals of family you’ve got – she’d be safer in your court than in a nunnery. If you’re hoping to make me lose my temper and start bawling in front of our audience you’ll be disappointed.”
“You’re right.” acknowledged Sigtryg, inclining his head with a touch of respect, “But at last you said something, for I was thinking I was talking to a stone dressed as a man. Now you’ve not yet asked about my own family, that’s poor manners, Culad.”
Culad’s mouth twisted, as though he had eaten something sour, “How are they?”
“Thank you kindly for your asking, my child is dead and Brigida’s only just recovering.” Sigtryg smiled bitterly at the surprise on Culad’s face, “Oh aye, that sickness was no lie to gain time. I’d thought your wife would have told you that.”
“She confirmed that Brigida was ill, but she didn’t go into detail.” Culad swallowed hard, and said awkwardly, “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll take that at face value then, for you’d have meant that once. When Culad made no reply Sigtryg chuckled, “You’re my enemy and you’re the only one not advising me to kill her if she miscarries again, you know all others are horrified when I say I’ll not be doing that. They go on about heirs of my blood, and when I point out bastards are my blood too they go all strange They all talk to me of love – ha The damn halfwits keep telling me my ‘love’ for Brigida mustn’t influence my decisions – can you believe the bare faced cheek of those fools? What they’re not understanding is that she’s family now, and family’s sacred. All others are nothing, but family, blood is all.”
“There was a time when you said I was practically family.”
“Ah, well the key there’s the word practically. If you’d not got overly ambitious there’d have been no problem, but when you got your head rammed up your own backside you forced my hand to rebellion. A shame, really, we’d have made Dublin squeal between us.”
“I’ll still do that, when I’ve finished you I’ll have men and resources enough to take on Dublin.”
“Oh really?” Sigtryg clearly didn’t believe.
“I can muster some 600 odd men from my two provinces, against your 300. When I crush you I’ll be able to levy from three provinces, while Dublin only has the two.”
“Overconfident, relying on brute strength, blind to what really matters – you’re no different to when you were a boy All those wasted years spent trying to teach you to think, ye Gods what a waste Conchbar’s a famous general, your match and far more Numbers matter far less than brains, for you’ll not have more than two to one in numbers, and that’s narrow indeed.”
“Brute force, a phrase you’re so fond of in connection to me. I’m thinking you misjudge.” said Culad evenly.
Sigtryg snorted, “Not even a bit”
“Le me prove you wrong; I’m saying you’ll be my vassal again before you leave this field.”
“And I’ll say your brains are curdled.”
“So how about I say you go down on bended knee and kiss my ring, or I have Brigida killed? Delicate enough for you?”
“Pathetic You’ll not manage to get near her now I’m alert, so your threat’s empty, and even if you succeed you’d be the one blamed by the world so I’d only gain more reason to kill you.”
“Oh no, you misunderstand. Your court tells you to kill her; the world would see a husband removing a useless wife – you’d be blamed, not I.”
“It’s well known I’d never hurt family.”
“How if it’s also known a small vial of hyssop was found in her rooms, half empty?”
“There’s no such vial, stop wasting my time with nonsense.”
“There will be, I can promise you there will be, it’s all nicely arranged as Margaret did tell me the detail of that illness. Now you know what that’ll do to people’s minds, your wife found dead, a half empty vial of a well known abortant and a recent miscarriage…”
“Only mindless fool’d believe I’d kill her for that, she’s family regardless.”
“But in the end who’s more family, the wife or the child? The child is blood, and that boosts the connection ever so slightly. And see, it only gets more complicated from here – what if it were rumoured Brigida was still seeing her old intended? A handsome young red haired man, quite different to the aging, dark haired count, and all’d agree on that. You’ll admit you’ve been away from home for a long time, and you’ll admit it was well known that Brigida and Niall were well matched and close before you jumped in and snatched her. How if it were feared that baby would have flame red hair, born to two dark haired parents? Connect the dots, Sigtryg - wronged husband, his court urging action, lost baby, frantic wife trying to hide her guilt, family man finding such terrible deception, dead wife. Tell me who looks so guilty now?”
“Smart enough, but not quite sufficient to force my hand.”
“Ah, but think on some more, for you’d be openly called kinslayer and your whole family would hate and fear you, aye, and your subjects too. Then there’d be Niall, mourning his lost sweetheart a second time, wanting vengeance for all you’d done, or perhaps he too could have an accident and die, and again the finger points to you. Not to forget her family, they’d not be too happy at your heavy-handed justice, and I’m doubting they’d blame her for her end, as they weren’t wanting her married to you in the first place. Loyalty would plummet; you’d be risking rebellion.”
“Troublesome I’ll admit, but you’d never manage to kill Brigida now I’m alerted. I’ll be rushing a messenger back home with orders to keep her under close guard.”
“What’s faster – horse or bird? Which is easiest to arrange - dagger stroke or bodyguard for a wife who’ll suspect she’s being slighted? Who can move quickest – the one who is already in position, or the one running to catch up? All I have to do is wave towards Margaret and Brigida is as good as dead by nightfall, you at least have to make a message and order it onwards. Think carefully.”
“So…you finally understand that one death, the right death, can topple a count as well as an army. I suppose I am proud, you even picked the location so many people’d see you as the forgiving lord bringing his errant sheep back to the fold.” Sigtryg went down on one knee and kissed the ring on Culad’s outstretched hand, declaring to the whole field that he was Culad’s vassal again, and paying him the customary homage.





Forcing Sigtryg back to being a vassal, my original idea, but impossible in the game. Of course we all know he will break free again as soon as he can...

Now I am in the troublesome position of having a lot of time to cover where nothing much happens. I'll add the vital scenes, and try to fit in the occasional brief 'nothing' scene, but for now time is skipping forwards months at a time, only to halt for a week or two, before jumping foward again.

EDIT: I forgot to ask if that is any better than the original, d'oh

The conversation started a bit dissapointing, but that's just because I was rooting for Culad and he let me down - the rest of the chapter was qualitay http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...ons/cheers.gif



~Wiz

30th November 1066.
“No agitation.” repeated Donchad to himself, bracing himself to open to door to his wife’s bedchamber, “No agitation, that’s what the midwife ordered. No agitation, so don’t say anything to upset her.” He took a deep breath to steel himself, pasted a happy smile on his face and opened the door. “Nuala? How are you? Alright?” The still figure in the bed didn’t move or answer. Donchad quietly closed the door and went to sit next to her, “They wouldn’t let me in before, said you were close enough to death’s door without having me to rant at. Can you believe they made we wait nearly a day to see you?” Still no response, Donchad’s smile wavered but he tried again, “Have you seen our daughter? She’s a beauty, just like her mother.”
Nuala responded in a voice gone hoarse from screaming, “She looks like any other baby. Ugly.”
“Not to me.” protested Donchad softly, “I thought we’d name her DubEssa.”
“Call her want you want, I don’t care.”
“You don’t mean that.”
Nuala closed her eyes, “Yes I do.”
“Then DubEssa she’ll be. You can choose the name for the next child-”
“There won’t be a next.” insisted Nuala flatly. She mustered an exhausted smile at the confused expression on Donchad’s face, and elaborated wearily, “Didn’t they tell you? No, I suppose not – this birth nearly killed me, the next probably will, so that’s it. Nice to have the experts agree with me, for I’d say no more regardless of their concerns.”
“But you…”
“Oh yes, I can still conceive, probably as infuriatingly easily as last time, but now I’m not so naive to fall for you nice line about accidents not happening. And don’t even think of trying to quote law at me, I know you too well to believe that either.”
“So you’re saying you’ll never consent to sleep with me again? You can’t want that”
“No. But it’s better than ending up like this again, or worse. No more children, Donchad.”

Two men amongst the early December crowd in the tavern stood out, perhaps because they tried so hard to blend in. They both ordered a tankard of ale, and made their way through the mass of peasants and tradesmen to an empty table. Culad scratched at his rough wool tunic, “Now why couldn’t you pick a nice place to go drinking? I’m none so happy dressed like a ploughman.” Donchad drained half his tankard in one go, saying nothing. Culad inspected the cloudy ale in his own mug, and carefully set it aside, “So how’s the family?”
Pride radiated off Donchad, “Little DubEssa’s doing grand She’s got great big brown eyes, and I’m thinking her hair’s going to be a deep brown to match. She’s got a fine-looking smile, and I’m already seeing a future with me chasing off good for nothing louts who’re following her about.” he frowned and started playing with his drink, swirling the liquid around in his tankard, “Nuala…well, that’s why I dragged you here.”
“She’s no better?”
“She’s slowly getting stronger, but since she’s still confined to her rooms waiting for her churching there’s not much she can do. Er, that’s not the problem.” Donchad leaned close to his cousin and dropped his voice to a near whisper, “She’s not wanting any more children.”
Culad shrugged his shoulders, “So? Where’s the problem?”
“What do you mean, where’s the problem?” shouted Donchad. The tavern hushed, and everyone turned to stare. Blushing furiously Donchad finished the rest of his drink and waited until the hubbub picked up again before hissing, “I thought you of all men might understand the problem”
“I still see no real problem, if you want more brats tugging on your tunic hem and asking for expensive ponies to ride just father a few bastards with a willing wench or two.”
“Yes, fine and all very well, but what about Nuala and me?”
Again Culad shrugged, “What about you? I see no problem. She has no more pregnancies so she’s happy, and you get your large family elsewhere, so you’re happy.”
“Heaven’s above man, I’d say you were dense as a rock if I didn’t you better Even a monk’d see the problem She’s booted me out in the cold.”
“Now why’d she do that?”
Donchad ground his teeth in mortified exasperation, “Because she doesn’t want any more children, have you listened to a word I said?”
Culad patiently began to explain, “Look, Donchad, there are ways-”
“Yes, well I’d have thought you’d understand that too – I’m not interested in setting up siege outside her door or similar.”
“Shut and listen, will you?” Culad wondered where to start, “You remember the only time you convinced me to go to a brothel, back when we were young and a deal less experienced? Well I learned a thing or two, and I thought you did to.”
“Yes, plenty but I don’t see the relevance”
“Oh Dear Lord, your mind is full of filth and no sense Such an opportunity gone to waste, access to knowledge never granted to us nobles but vital to the poorer classes – and the only real reason I let you convince me to visit such a low class dive when I could have my pick of the nobility. Did you never think to ask, for future reference, how they managed to keep from ending up with a bunch of children under their feet?” Donchad’s blank stare answered that question. Culad picked his drink up, almost took a mouthful before reconsidering and pressing the tankard into Donchad’s hands. Culad cracked his knuckles, “Did you never wonder how I avoided a bastard? Well let me explain to you the wonders of a certain common plant called pennyroyal…”







Yes, before anyone asks pennyroyal and hyssop from the previous episode were known, used in the middle ages. Pennyroyal acts rather like the morning after pill, but without the extra period. Both kill if you use too much, and they aren't as reliable as modern drugs but they have surprised those research scientists who have looked into them with just how reliable they are.

Now Donchad has the heir problem http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...ns/gc-grin.gif

Quote:

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Originally Posted by [b

Quote[/b] (frogbeastegg @ May 21 2004,12:27)]Now Donchad has the heir problem http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...ns/gc-grin.gif

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It seems we have Culad the Incompetant (or at least 'the Rumoured Incompetant'), and Donchad the Overcompetant... http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...nquisitive.gif

19th January 1067
For once Fionna wished Sigtryg had decided to meet her in front of his court. Ever since his meeting with Culad the count had been unpredictable and touchy. A late night meeting with the lone count did not bode well, one misstep and he’d erupt again, and this time there would be no one else to point his spleen at. The count sat at the table in his council chamber, appearing to be in good temper, “It’s time to be a bit more active, I’m thinking.” Sigtryg spoke so lightly he might have been discussing taking a more active line in cooking his dinner, “We’ll be schooling Culad in why I always insisted you stay single, Fionna. Outline those reasons for me again, to show you’ve not forgot.”
“Not this pointless exercise again, we both know your logic.” The spymaster didn’t try to hide her exasperation, knowing the storm was, once again, inevitable.
Honey dripped off Sigtryg’s words, “Ah, but Fionna, dearest Fionna, if we’re both knowing why am I getting proposals from suitors still?”
“I can’t help that.”
“No, but you see I’m thinking you can, just a little. Kindly repeat again why I refuse to give you away.”
Fionna recited the reasons in the blank, expressionless tone of someone who has learned a speech by rote, “Because with marriage comes the duty to have children, and you don’t want a spymaster who is confined to her rooms for roughly two months prior to the birth, and 40 days after, as it leaves a big gap in the network and prevents her doing her job properly.”
“Yes, just so, as Culad will soon find to his cost. We have 3 months to pick away at him, so where’ll we start?” Fionna said nothing, fuming silently. Sigtryg braced his hands on the table and leaned forward, “Really? Now what a fine target that is – if you’re so lacking inspiration I’ll replace you”
“Culad, Margaret herself, Donchad, any of the council, they’re all valid targets.”
“Better. Culad, well he’s last on my list since I’m wanting to show that arrogant little wretch who plays this game better. Margaret, excellent choice and one that’ll hurt, but I’ve different plans for her. Dead she’ll upset Culad, but kidnapped and held safely here as a hostage she’ll really drive him insane…but I think that’ll wait a while, it’d be more effective to use her as the penultimate move. Donchad, I owe him a small head wound…yes, not bad.”
“He’s travelling to his new manor soon, with his family and servants.”
“How handily convenient for us, I don’t care how you do it, but I don’t want him to arrive. Something subtle, very subtle – no arrows in the back or similar. I want Culad to know who did this, and that I’m able to outdo him any day of the week.” Fionna bobbed a very shallow curtsy and turned to go. “One moment.” Sigtryg softly, though there was no doubt this was velvet coated steel, “I appreciate you pick up most of these suitors in my service, I’m knowing you even like some of them, but I’m trying to usurp a title and crush Culad here, and constant offers from the assorted hopefuls that you’ve been busy toying with waste my time I don’t care how you do it, but discourage them from even thinking of asking to marry you, or I’ll be exiling every single one of them God above, toying with someone is supposed to mean just that – you’re supposed to get them so enamoured they spill a few details at an guarded moment, not overdo it so they come running hotfoot to me asking if they can keep you You’re entirely too successful at your work, and I’ll not put up with it” Sigtryg was slowly turning purple, to the great delight of his fed up spymaster. Putting on her most contrite face Fionna said, “I’m so sorry, I’ll be sure to be less successful at my work in the future.” She left while Sigtryg was still chewing over her reply, trying to decide if he really had heard a touch of sarcasm or not.

Chaos, of a rather organised kind, reigned at Donchad’s house in Uliad’s capital. A flurry of servants ferried boxes and items out of the house and into carts, ready to be ported away to the manor. A covered wagon contained DubEssa and her wet nurse, along with Nuala’s maids, but to Donchad’s surprise no sign of Nuala herself. Donchad scanned the bustle until he spotted his wife, being helped up onto her horse by the groom. Donchad hurried over, and inquired, “Aren’t you wanting to ride with DubEssa in the wagon?” Nuala looked down at him, her eyebrows drawn together into a single frowning line, “Why would I?”
“I just thought you might want to spend a bit of time with our baby, make sure she’s alright.”
“I’m a noble, not a peasant, we have a nurse to do that. I’ll ride next to you, as is my place, and you’ll not talk me out of that.”
“Now why’d I want to talk myself out of your lovely presence?”
“Just so long as you don’t use the opportunity to start spouting forth rubbish again.” A familiar looking brown haired head caught Nuala’s eye. She sat up taller in her saddle, craning her neck for a better view, “Culad’s searching for you, you’d best go see what he wants.” Donchad caught up with his cousin on the outskirts of the kafuffle. “So you’re off in a bit then?” asked Culad by way of greeting.
“As soon as they’ve finished putting everything on the carts.”
“How’s Nuala? I’d say she’s looking her old self again.”
“She’s well enough now, but I’m baffled by her lack of interest in little DubEssa. She’s perfect, I don’t see how it’s possible not to love her.”
“Give it time, I’m sure Nuala cares. How’d my little bit of advice go?”
“Terribly – she all but accused me of lying She doesn’t believe it at all, and I’m hearing her say ‘no more children’ so frequently it echoes in my dreams at night.”
“Find a few others to corroborate you on pennyroyal tea’s effects.” suggested Culad.
“Now where am I going to find people to do that?”
“Your problem, I’ve plenty of my own, mostly related to names and inheritance laws to change.” A servant half threw a small chest into the nearby cart, alarmed Donchad yelled, “Hey Watch it – that chest cost more than you’re worth” The servant grinned sheepishly and tugged hid forelock. Donchad rolled his eyes and blew out an exasperated puff of air, “Clumsy idiots. How’s Margaret doing?”
“Still in good health, but bored. She’s taken to going over the duchy’s accounts now, having run out of other things to do. My steward’s none too pleased. I’m becoming very familiar with her tirade on what she’d like to do the to man – that bit she assures me has to be correct – who thought up the idea of confinement in the first place.”
“It’s only been three days”
“According to her peasants manage fine without being shut away in a dark, stuffy room for months before the birth, therefore it’s all unnecessary. The midwives had to get very insistent, which means I get to hear plenty of complaining when I visit.” The wail of a baby drifted over to them on the breeze, Donchad’s head snapped around towards his daughter, “That’s my call to be off, goodbye Culad.” Culad watched his cousin hurry away, observing to himself, ”From fierce marshal to baby sitter in less than a month, I should get him to trade his sword for a rattle.”

Nuala's turning into a she-monster. She doesn't let old Doncho into the sack with her, hates Margaret, is greedy (I want 3 maids), and couldn't care less about little DubEssa (cool name, BTW). What next?

I say we go an' get her boys... [/Norse accent]



~Wiz http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...c-devilish.gif

:blinks a few times in surprise: Ok, I take a break from wrestling with a Donchad/Nuala soppy bit and find the Nuala debate has reached the org, but in a rather different tone to the paradox version.

Nuala has something of a scattergun effect on readers; there is a lot of variety in the opinions and comments posted about her. Other characters might get more comments, but those comments run mostly along the same lines. A good thing, I think, as Nuala is intended to be a catalyst for showing off the less obvious sides of the other characters, as well as being a key player in the big [spoiler] looming off in the future.

Nuala isn't that detestable, is she? I don't find her all that likeable, but she isn't supposed to be quite that horrible. You are supposed to end up feeling sorry for her, while at the same time cheering for the party who is hurting her. That is a long way in the future, more than a year and a half away. She is a slow burning character, each new scene should show a new side of her, or explain something about her. She should start off rather unlikeable, but grow better, not worse. She will never, at least in my eyes, get to be totally likeable.

Booting Donchad out is not nice, but it is supposed to be understandable - the pennyroyal tea is not completely reliable, and is lethal if you drink too much. From there she has the choice of another pregnancy that will probably kill her, or trying one of the assorted abortion inducing drugs, which also prove lethal in the wrong dosage. Nuala is young (er, no birthday but I guess she is 20 now), and really wants to live, if it wasn't such an overused cliché I'd say she has a burning desire to survive. Don’t forget she hints that Donchad sort of lied to her before; she says he talked her into sleeping with him and he never disputes that, nor does he ever comment on her saying he told her accidents don’t happen. She says she was a naïve thing back then, and again he doesn't argue.

These two aren’t a happy fluffy couple like Margaret and Culad; someone at paradox said they were more real world. They made a mistake; the question is can they live with the consequences? Before they got married was that love or lust?

As for DubEssa, well some women don't like children. Also mothers don't always bond instantly with their brats, sometimes it takes a lot longer, years even. Post natal depression, and other things this baby-hating frog knows little about. Nuala is a doting mother compared to what I'd be. http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cgi/emoticons/eek.gif The game generated the name, and it took me ages to get Word to accept it without trying to undo the capital E.

Hates Margaret? Where do you get that from? The only scene with the two of them together had her being attacked by Margaret for trying to say thank you for something she thought Margaret had done.

Greedy? Well, yes http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...ns/gc-grin.gif Egotisitcal too, her attention seeking might have been to distract her from thought like 3 months and I'm dead, but it is still attention seeking.

What next? After this next part with the soppy scene there is something that will either make you change your mind on her a bit, or make you rank her along side Sigtryg as villain of the piece.

The urgent cries of a boy in trouble broke through the shell of comfortable complacency that has settled on Donchad after two days of easy travel. Looking about he soon spotted the source – in the middle of the river they were about to cross by bridge a boy was splashing about and screaming for help each time his head bobbed above water. Wasting no time Donchad jumped off his horse while it was still walking, ran towards the river, and gracelessly half dived, half belly flopped in. A mediocre swimmer at best Donchad soon found the current too strong to fight effectively, and so it was half by design and half by luck that he finally reached, and crashed into, the boy. Donchad made a grab for the boy, and caught an arm, which he used to pull the boy close enough for him to slip his other arm under the boy’s armpits. The boy kept panicking and flailing about, confounding Donchad’s efforts to tread water. They were both dragged under the surface, and the boy slipped out of Donchad’s grasp. Something solid impacted with Donchad’s left temple, and his vision exploded into coloured sparks. He drifted underwater, too stunned to fight the current. Donchad was bought back to reality by a tight, burning feeling in his lungs. Instinctively he began to kick, powering himself towards the surface. As soon as his head broke the surface Donchad gasped for air, too quickly because he went back under and swallowed a mouthful of water. A body banged into him, Donchad made a grab for it but caught nothing only empty water. Pain burned along his right flank, and hands shoved him back underwater. Even with his vision severely limited by the water, Donchad could see the river about him turning red. Desperately he clawed his way to the surface, only to see the boy swimming rapidly downstream away from him, and in no apparent difficulty. A hand seized Donchad’s collar and started to drag him towards the riverbank. Too tired to fight, and unwilling to drown himself again by turning to look, Donchad allowed himself to go limp, floating easily along behind his mystery rescuer. A soon as they reached the shallows Donchad’s collar was released, and he crawled his way onto the riverbank, and vomited up the water he had swallowed. The rescuer turned out to be the head cook, who was soon pushed out of the way by a frantic Nuala. She dropped to her knees next to Donchad, and wasted no time in rebuking him, “What the hell did you think you were doing? You can barely even swim” Donchad tried to stand up, but Nuala easily forced him to sit down on the grass, “Stay put already, you’ve been stupid enough for one day” Cautiously she lifted one side of the large, blood soaked rent in Donchad’s tunic and examined the long knife wound snaking its way along his ribs.
The cook whistled in admiration, “Little runt tried to do for you with a knife though the heart – lucky for you he’s a poor aim and your ribs got in the way.”
Nuala handled the cook in a preoccupied manner, “Yes, thank you very much. Now why don’t you go change before you catch a cold?” She tilted Donchad’s head to get a better view of his injured temple, where a messy cut was already beginning to show a bruised corona. Nuala pulled him to one side so he was leaning against her, pulled off the veil she was wearing on her head, and started to dab gently at his cut temple, “Just look at the mess you’ve made of your clothes.” she chided, oblivious to the mess she was making of her own. Donchad surrendered to her ministrations, and mumbled, “Sorry.”
“I thought I’d lost you.” Donchad looked up at his wife and saw she was crying. Nuala mustered a watery smile, “You inconsiderate bastard.”
Donchad’s eyes shone, “It’s been months since you last called me that. I missed it.”
“I’ve been shut away sick in a stuffy room for a quarter of a year, you’ve been talking about DubEssa endlessly for ages – of course I’ve not had occasion to say that It’s not like the old days, I can’t call you inconsiderate for turning up late when I’ve sneaked out to see you, because my door’s no longer guarded by a jealous father with an eye to joining fiefs by marriage to his profit.”
Donchad quoted from memory a speech he had heard many times, which was more a ritual than anything now, “Late again, and after all the trouble I took getting here I’m risking my skin and you can’t even arrive on time, you inconsiderate bastard.” He smiled slightly, reviving another old disagreement that had long since ceased to be anything other than a game, “You know I was never actually late, you just thought so.”
“You were late, every single time nearly”
“No I wasn’t.”
“Yes you were.”
“If I’m remembering right there’s a big old oak tree on a hill a few minutes away from our new home.” Donchad winced as Nuala started cleaning the wound on his chest, but he kept talking, “I’m thinking I might be sat under it later this evening, if you want to join me…if that husband of yours doesn’t know he can’t stop you.”
Nuala stopped what she was doing and assessed Donchad as though she was wondering if the head injury had caused him to go mad, then she smiled, “He won’t even notice I’m gone, he’s far more interested in some young girl by the name of DubEssa nowadays. Don’t be late, and be careful dodging that wife of yours – she might brain with a skillet.”
“I’m never late, and I’ll leave the wife to her pessimism, but somehow I doubt she’d attack me with a pan. She’s too nice for that.”
“Now what kind of a thing to say is that?”
“An honest one.”
“Forget the flattery, let’s get you home and bandaged up, or you will be late meeting me again, us per usual.”

Fionna waited nervously for Sigtryg’s response to her news. The count had been stood as still as a statue, staring out of the room’s window for several minutes now, not uttering a single sound. The spymaster was unable to decide if this was a good sign or not; at least he hadn’t flown into another bad tempered outburst, but on the other hand he could be building up towards a spectacular explosion. The silence continued for so long Fionna almost jumped out of her skin when the count finally spoke, “Tell me again of Nuala’s reaction.”
“She was described as very distressed at what happened, Lordship. She wouldn’t leave his side for hours after, the last I heard they were still together as though glued to each other.”
“Our sources suggested relations between them had cooled most considerably, but this changes things. I’d say she still cares about him deeply, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I would. We know he’s still mad about her, so it seems they’ve solved their differences, for now at any rate.”
“That matters little, for it’s Nuala herself I’m seeing a great future for now…” Sigtryg turned away from the window, “This could be a gift from heaven itself. Did you take care of the fisher boy who bungled the job?”
“Yes, he’s dead and will trouble us no further.”
“Excellent. Now let me tell you of Nuala’s place in my destiny…”







Well that took forever, first the drowning bit read peculiarly for reasons I couldn't put my finger on, so I redid the whole bit. Then that mushy bit between Donchad and Nuala, well let me say there is mush and then there is mush, and this brand of mush is far worse than the Margaret/Culad brand. Heaven knows why, but that pathetically short little bit took several days, whereas I can now do a Margaret/Culad scene in about a day.

No, Nuala hasn't been made to look better if she is looking any better, hard to say sometimes) because of the comments yesterday, she was always going to do this, just as she was always going to do what she will do in the next piece...

On the second day in the new manor house Nuala decided to explore the extensive gardens, an over grown, neglected mass of half wild plants sorely in need to hacking back and uprooting. She was planning to convert the area into a large herb garden to supply both kitchen and medicine store. As she neared the far end of the garden a hand clamped over Nuala’s mouth, and another about her waist, and she was dragged off the path into the cover of the nearby bushed. “Not a sound, or I’ll cut your throat.” warned a man’s voice near her ear, “Don’t try anything daft.” She was dragged further away, into deeper cover, and the voice rasped again, “Give me your word not to be foolish and I’ll let you go. There’s nowhere to run to, so don’t get ideas.” Nuala nodded as best she could, and the man let her go. He turned out to be a forgettable looking man in his early 40’s, with greying hair and no distinguishing features. He was dressed as a peddler, with a nasty looking dagger belted at his waist. He flashed a gap toothed grin when he saw her eyeing his weapon, “Oh don’t worry, my orders were alive and unharmed if you cooperated.” the man rubbed his hands together and cracked his knuckles, “Now down to business. Lord Sigtryg has decided you can be two things; useful or dead, the choice is yours. What we need is an insider, and you’re to be it.”
“I don’t think so.” Nuala tried to sound brave, but her voice wobbled slightly.
“Did I neglect to say that we’re going to be killing Culad’s best supporters, and that Donchad’s the top of the list? Now if you’re helping us then there’s reason to leave him be, otherwise…well you’ve seen our work.”
“The drowning boy.”
“Oh aye, that’d be us.”
“He won’t be easy prey – he’s alert now.”
“Easy prey?” the man laughed, “Your whole family’s easy prey, just look how I snatched you, go look above your baby’s crib and you’ll see my mark – a red ribbon tied in a bow and pinned above her head. The boy was just the first of many, many possible attempts on Donchad, and one will succeed, mark my words. Now see here’s the deal, you help us or we kill that dear sweet baby right before Donchad’s eyes, before gutting him and leaving him to die while you watch and wait your own end. Finally we come back to you, to round out the trio. We’re not asking the earth here; just some small bits and pieces that’ll help out, and as a bonus distract Sigtryg from Donchad. For now it’s just an invite for Ayd to visit you at your new home, there’s nothing unpleasant about asking the steward to come visit and look over the farms to help you raise cash, is there? That’s all we ask, for you to send an invite, no more. Go home, look and see my token, then decide what’s more valuable – your family’s lives, or the life of one aging man you barely know. If you decide to live, send the invitation by tomorrow afternoon, I’ll know whether you do or not.” The man stepped out of Nuala’s way and she ran past him, back towards the house. She didn’t stop until she skidded to a halt in the nursery. There above DubEssa’s head was a red ribbon, just as the man had promised.

11th February 1067
Culad was already drowning in bad news when the messenger bearing the report of Ayd’s death reached him. Scrubbing his face with his hands he wearily spoke to the messenger still stood before him, “Go find and summon what’s left of my council, send them to me here.”
“Lordship, at this late hour not many’ll be awake.”
Culad looked up, feeling incredibly drained and older than his 26 years, “Not many are left to sleep; summon them all but Margaret.” The messenger bowed and hurried off to do his master’s bidding.

Less than two hours later Culad met with what was left of his council. Donchad was away in his new manor house. Margaret was still confined to her rooms. Ayd was dead, cut down by ‘bandits’ as he travelled from the capital to Donchad’s manor. Gofraid, as chancellor, was the only titled advisor present. Aside from him there were only two other men; Toirrdelbach and Mathgamain. Culad briefly outlined the situation, “Sigtryg’s had Ayd murdered, and that’s in addition to the other trouble he’s caused – fires burning our crops, poisoned water supplies in random villages, nobles kidnapped and ransomed. He’s playing with us, taking advantage of Margaret’s absence. Knowing that helps little”
Gofraid tried to smother a yawn, “There’s only one solution, Lordship, and that’s to appoint a stand-in spymaster to fill the gap.”
“But who?” as soon as the words were out of his mouth Culad’s memory pricked, “Fionnghualla.”
“That kinslayer” burst out Toirrdelbach, “Have things got so bad we need such as her? Rather, we should put her on trail for her crimes - let her pay on the end of a rope” Gofraid and Mathgamain murmured their agreement. Culad interjected, “Enough That’s Margaret’s own suggestion, and I trust her reasoning. And yes, things are so bad we need Fionnghualla.” Mathgamain considered for a moment, and then added his voice to Culad’s, “I’ve no wish to be murdered in my bed, and it seems Sigtryg’s more likely to be the cause than the kinslayer. It is only temporary, till Margaret’s back.” First Gofraid, then Toirrdelbach backed down. Culad breathed a mental sigh of relief, “And so we’ve just got the new steward to appoint. Mathgamain, Ayd made no secret that he was grooming you to be his successor. The post’s yours.” Mathgamain ducked his head in acknowledgement, “Lordship, I’ll not let you down.” Culad pushed himself to his feet, “Good. That’s all, go get some sleep and for God’s sake be careful, I can’t afford many more losses.”






Yet another short segment, when there is nothing much happening short is the best I can do without longer to think.

Here's an interesting situation: Nuala is working for Sigtryg now, Fionnghualla is temporary spymaster. They hate each other. Will Nuala be found out? I don't actually know yet, I can see possible storylines for both eventualities, but which is more appealing? Decisions, decisions...

Ooh This bit's looking good http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...s/bigthumb.gif - nice little cliffhanger.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by [b

Quote[/b] (frogbeastegg @ May 20 2004,19:33)]I forgot to ask if that is any better than the original, d'oh

---

I haven't got time to read the rest of your story, but the new version of the Sitryg is much better than the previous version. The dialogue between Sitryg and Culad is very good http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...s/bigthumb.gif .

And now I must make hast to arrive in time at the lecture room...

February 28th 1067
“Milady, there’s a pedlar here to see you. He’s selling ribbons. Shall I let him in or be rid of him?”
“Be rid of him” thought Nuala desperately, although she couldn’t risk saying that. “Show him in.” The door guard bowed and left, only to return a short while later leading the pedlar. It was, just as Nuala suspected, Sigtryg’s agent. He doffed his battered cap, and bobbed a nervous looking bow, as the doorkeeper left them alone. The instant the door clicked shut behind him the pedlar dropped the humble act, “Good job, most effective. Your next task will be far less objectionable, no one need die, except you if you slip up. I doubt Culad’ll be happy with a caught spy, but that’s your problem to solve, or best yet avoid. You’ll find me the details of Culad’s accounts, down to every last copper. I want to know how much money he has, where he spends it, when he spends it, how much he has saved – everything.”
“How am I supposed to find that?”
“Your problem, see you either find me the information or I reduce the population of Uliad by three. If you bring me bad information you can explain your double-dealings to saint Peter. If you bungle and get caught, well let’s be hoping Culad’s in a friendly mood. Understand?”
“Yes.” replied Nuala, in a voice heavy with despair.

It took Nuala several days to persuade Donchad to take her back to the capital, ostentatiously on a shopping trip. The journey itself took several days, and so it was just over a week later that she was stood hidden by the night’s dark in Culad’s office, sifting through documents with a speed born of terror and desperation. “Find anything interesting?” inquired a stern voice behind her. Nuala whipped around, to find Fionnghualla blocking the doorway, “It’s a strange place to come to look for bed time reading, and you’re obviously possessing strange tastes. Many would find accounts to be dull reading.”
“How…?” Nuala’s voice was little more than a squeak. Fionnghualla's lip curled contemptuously, “You’ve spent the last couple of days asking not so subtle questions about Uliad’s accounts. Add that to the fact Ayd died on his way to see you, at your invitation, and it’s so blindingly obvious I’d have to be dead not to notice.”
“They threatened to kill me, to kill all of us…Donchad, DubEssa. I had no choice.”
“Oh, there’s always a choice, but you’re too sheep headed to see it. You could have quietly said something to Donchad, he’d have got you all to safety.”
“They attacked us on the way out, we’d not get away if we fled. I…couldn’t risk it. I don’t want to die, and I can’t lose…them.”
“You’re living proof of my theory that love makes people into idiots, although I’m none so sure you weren’t an idiot in the first place. A contradictory idiot at that – you don’t even like your brat.”
“No, but it seems a waste of effort if she dies.”
Fionnghualla peered at Nuala, searching out the truth in her words, “Liar, the waste of effort is true enough, but you do like the brat, at least a tiny bit. Let me guess, that first smile plucked heartstrings? How pathetic.” Nuala said nothing. Fionnghualla advanced a step, using her height advantage to seem more intimidating “I asked you a question – answer it”
“Nothing to do with smiles, more the fact she threw up all over Donchad when he was doing yet another of his stomach turning googoo speeches. She just echoed what I was doing mentally, but with the addition of catching the cause of the problem. Give it another few years and she might actually be vaguely likeable, but for now in very small doses she is less detestable then she was.”
“You should have stuck with the vomiting brat and googooing husband, instead of straying into my game. You’re far too feeble to be an interesting opponent, now Margaret, on the other hand, she can play. It’s a great shame we’re both on the same side in this, the chance to take on a worthy opponent is so rare. And now there’s the question of what to do with you. A choice, I think. I can turn you in to Culad, and let this scandal work its course, or I can use you to my own ends. Choose.” Nuala stammered, saying nothing coherent. Fionnghualla rolled her yes, “Fabulous answer, very clear and incisive. You’re far too easy to manipulate, so I won’t even bother. Culad probably won’t kill you, Donchad’ll stand by you like the fool he is, but you’ll be under suspicion for the rest of your life and I’d say there’ll be a lot of shouting and other unpleasantness. Suspicion gets wearing if you don’t know how to deal with it, and somehow I suspect you’d crumble under the tiniest of pressures, so you’ll not be choosing that option. On the other hand you can become the pet of someone you once called a pointy-faced, ugly old hag, always vulnerable to exposure and blackmail. Playing double agent is dangerous, and with your pathetic skills you’d never survive, so you’ll be reliant on my help.” Fionnghualla smiled wickedly, savouring the moment, “Dependant on a known kinslayer who has a grudge. I suppose there is a third way - kill yourself. I doubt you’ll be doing that. You will choose the second, because you want to live and you won’t risk losing Donchad’s love. Just nod and smile along as I say the obvious, you’re hardly articulate right now. The second option, right?” Nuala nodded, and Fionnghualla continued, “Now you’ll be given false information to feed back to your friend. You will also stay here until I say otherwise. You’ll be given some new servants, just some barely skilled nothings you picked up to help out with all those expensive things you are going to buy. They’ll be working for me, so don’t get cute and sack them. I’ll fill in the detail later, right now you should run back to your rooms, and pray Donchad wasn’t looking for you, for you’ll have a hell of a time thinking of a good excuse.”







Obviously I decided Nuala being found out was a better plot move. Fionnghualla is a real bitch, and such fun to write http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...ns/gc-grin.gif

And when you have fun writing a part, Froggy, it's obvious Good part



~Wiz http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...c-thumbsup.gif

March 24th 1067
Culad had been anxiously pacing about his study for hours now, fretting and worrying like never before. He completed yet another circuit about the room, and wondered for the thousandth time “What’s happening? Sure it can’t take this long, something must be wrong – I know something must be wrong” Oh dear God, keep her safe and I’ll build a new chapel, no a church even Hang on, that’s bribery, isn’t it? Um, sorry Lord, but you’re knowing what I mean, right? I’m knowing you can’t be bribed, but just be thinking it was my damn fool idea so direct any thunder bolts in my direction, please? Watch over Margaret, I can’t lose her” His rather disordered prayer was interrupted by the door opening, and the head midwife stuck her head through the gap, “It’s all over, you’ve got a son. They’re both in good health.”
Culad collapsed backwards with relief, only half managing to land on the nearby chair, and nearly falling off onto the floor, “Praise be” He leapt to his feet and started towards the door, “I’ve got to see them.”
“Oh no you don’t.” said the midwife sternly, “Not for a few hours, give the poor woman time to rest before you go running off like an overeager puppy, bothering her.”
“But-”
“No.” the midwife shooed him back into the room. Culad protested, “I’m the duke, and this is my castle and my family”
“And I was there when you were born, you made a lot of unnecessary noise back then too. Now sit down and wait-”
“I’ve been waiting”
“Then wait some more.” With one final stern glare, the midwife left shutting the door firmly behind her.

A few hours later Culad was seated at his wife’s bedside, cradling his sleeping son in the crook of his arm. Bursting with pride he said, “My little MáelSechlainn.”
“We are not calling him MaelSehc..MealSch…Mael…that He’s not getting a name his own mother can’t pronounce. My Irish is good, but not that good.”
“You suggest something then.”
“How about a good Saxon name, like Thurcytel?”
“Now I’m normally quite happy to agree with you, but there’s no way he’ll be named that – it sounds like someone choking on a piece of meat” Culad looked at his son, considering, “How about GillaÍsu?”
“GillaÍsu…I think I can manage that.”
“That’s settled then.” Culad brushed a finger over the downy black hair on his son’s head, and said in a choked voice, “ How’d we ever manage this?”
“You’ve forgotten already?” Margaret grinned as the normally embarrassment proof Culad flushed beet red, and stammered, “I, er – no I was meaning more like he’s so perfect.”
“Yes, although it’ll be a wonder if he stays that way – you know they flat out refuse to put him in swaddling bands? He’ll grow up with bent limbs”
“We never bother with all that nonsense here in Ireland, and you’re not seeing many crooked people hereabouts, now are you? I never saw the reasoning in tying a baby up like that.”
“Well, I suppose you turned out alright…mostly alright.”
“Hey What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What kind of a person would want to name their son MaelSc…Maelwhatsit?”
Culad laughed, “You’re right, that name’s not suited to him. Our little GillaÍsu’s going to be duke of Ulster one day. He’ll be a fierce warrior, a great leader, a careful spender, and I’m certain if he inherits even a fraction of his mother’s cunning he’ll be able to outthink anyone. Our GillaÍsu, our little baby.”








Two parts in one day, it's been ages since I managed that.

Margaret's back, yay I've missed her. Margaret may be able to wrap her Saxon tongue about GillaIsu, but I can't. Anyone want to tell a frog how to say that name? It's got one of those accent thingies above the I...

At this point in the game I was a happy frog indeed, my future was secure. From here things could only go up, and what plans I had, a bright future for young GillaIsu indeed.

Well, if it's Irish, I assume something along the lines of Gee-lah-ee-sue or maybe Gee-layee-soo http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg.../gc-dizzy2.gif

Nuala rolled away from her sleeping husband, and waited with baited breath to see if he woke. Donchad slumbered on, apparently undisturbed by his arm dropping off her shoulders. Carefully Nuala got out of bed and dressed, glancing over her shoulder at the sleeping figure every few seconds. She tiptoed her way to the door, and was about to open it when Donchad asked, “Where’re you going?”
“Nowhere…just out for a bit of air, I’m not feeling too well.”
“I’ll come with you then.” Donchad sat up.
“No need for that. You get some rest, you’ve that inspection of Culad’s newly expanded cavalry tomorrow.”
“I’ll be fine, a few hours lost sleep is nothing.”
“No, really I’d not feel right depriving you of your sleep.”
“You didn’t say that earlier.” Donchad looked at her for a long moment, before shutting his eyes and bowing his head in defeat, “Go then, but know that if you walk out that door you won’t be welcome back. Ever.”
“What are you talking about, Donchad?”
“Don’t play coy – you’ve been meeting someone in secret, sending and receiving messages, buying new clothes, coming and going at odd hours, hiding things from me. You’ll have to chose now, him or me.”
“It’s not like that Not at all”
“Then what?”
“I…I can’t say.”
Donchad snorted, plainly not believing her, “How convenient. If you don’t go soon you’ll be late, and I’m doubting your lover will like that.”
Nuala lost her temper, and tried to both shout and keep quiet at the same time, “I’m a spy, damn it Fionnghualla’s blackmailing me into trapping an agent of Sigtryg’s who threatened to kill us all unless I worked for him”
“I think you’d better get explaining.”

As soon as Fionnghualla saw both Nuala and Donchad had arrived for the meeting she frowned, and demanded brusquely, “What part of don’t tell anyone didn’t you understand?”
“I’m a light sleeper.” growled Donchad, putting an arm protectively about Nuala’s shoulders. Fionnghualla smiled ruefully at Nuala, “I should have known that suggesting you collect a headache was far too subtle for such as you to comprehend.”
Nuala braced herself for another round of fighting, “Not at all, but I doubt you’d understand the thinking behind my choice to ignore you.”
“I understand you’re incapable of thinking at all. You do tend to sleep your way into trouble, don’t you? Excuse the pun. No, on second thoughts don’t, it’s far too good to ignore.”
Nuala forced herself to smile wistfully, and dreamily leaned her head on Donchad’s shoulder, “I can think of far worse ways to get in trouble, but then you’d not know that.”
“Was that an attempted insult? I suppose it was, how feeble. For a jab to work it has to hurt the target, catch a weak point, I care not for your pathetic version of married bliss, I far prefer my own. Let me show you another example of how it’s done; you’d know far more about trouble than me, since you’re stupid enough to get yourself into all kinds of messes that you’re to moronic to get out of. Instead you rely on others to help you all the time.”
“Maybe I like being rescued?” suggested Nuala nonchalantly.
Fionnghualla looked disgusted, “How very cute. Let’s be on to business, I have better thing to do that stand about in the middle of the night talking to you – you’re far to easy a target, watching dust float in the air is more intellectually stimulating than tearing you to ribbons.”
Donchad pinned Fionnghualla with an unwavering, level gaze, and said, “This is going to end now. No more games, Fionnghualla, be rid of the agent then leave us in peace.”
Fionnghualla wasn’t bothered in the least, “Oh aye, simple enough – I’ll just arrest your wife as she talks to the spy, that’ll put a nice ending to all this, and quickly too.”
“You are not going to throw Nuala to the wolves over this”
“I will do what I will do, and you will not interfere or I’ll not bother to mention that your block-headed wife was working for me when she contacted that agent. Oh, believe me I’m not about to let you both off the hook so easily, I have plans for the pair of you. None the less I do want this done before Margaret reappears, I like to leave matters tidy, so we’ve little time to faff about. Here’s what’s going to happen; you.” Fionnghualla dismissively flapped a hand in Nuala’s direction, “Will attract the agent, telling him you have his information. You will give him this,” she handed Nuala a small packet wrapped in a piece of non-descript cheap linen, “As soon as you have done that guards will appear and arrest you both – you’ll play along and generally look shocked, horrified, and wail rubbish like ‘oh no the end has arrived, I’m doomed’. The pair of you will be dragged back here in chains, and after a short delay you’ll get a nice trial in front of Culad. You.” she looked at Donchad with barely hidden contempt, “Will pretend you know nothing of this…shouldn’t be too hard, you manage to look clueless by default. You will stay silent until it is revealed she’s been playing spies, at which point you can burst forth with things like ‘I thought she was having an affair, what an incredible act, it even fooled me, I am so shocked to learn of her evilness but also oh so relieved to find I don’t need to dispose of her to a nunnery or similar, it’s just a shame she’s going to be executed now, oh dear oh dear’ – if you do a decent job of that drippy here might even end up as some kind of vague heroine, for her uncanny ability to look guilty for the sake of Ulster.”
“I can’t do that I won’t accuse her-”
“Oh yes you will, otherwise you’re party to her treason and you did nothing about it. Either you’re part of the conspiracy or you believed something else, you can’t play ignorant. I’m not ruining my credibility by saying you were in on this at any point, a good spymaster keeps only those who need to know informed, and you most certainly don’t need to know. Now don’t demonstrate your ignorance further still, and say there must be another excuse – there isn’t, not a convincing one. What else would she be doing, that requires such deception and strange hours and practises? Slipping away to attend prayer meetings?”
Donchad repeated his protest again, more firmly, “I can’t say that, find another reason.”
Nuala stared at her husband in astonished scorn, “Why’s it matter? It’s my name that’s being slandered, not yours, and you’ve already proven you have no trouble making such claims.”
“Oh how very interesting, a squabble, one with a potentially long lifespan. Most entertaining, but irrelevant to this. Donchad, you will do as I say, or half the case for saving drippy goes flying out the window, and you end up under suspicion as well.” Donchad said nothing, surrendering the fight. Fionnghualla said, “That’s settled then, good, just make sure you play your parts well. Nuala, you’ll attract that spy tomorrow morning. He’s followed you here, so all you need to do is wander about in an area he can approach you without being spotted, and he’ll come running.”

Nuala was burning with cold fury for the entire trip back to their rooms. The moment the door shut behind them enabling them to talk in private Donchad said, “I don’t see why you’re so upset.”
“You didn’t trust me” exclaimed Nuala, as if the problem were as obvious as the sun at midday. Donchad just shrugged, “Nor you me, or else you’d have told me about that creature of Sigtryg’s. I don’t see how it matters.”
“There is a vast difference between being threatened into silence, and what you accused me of. If you can’t see that you’re blind.”
“Yes, but I’m still not seeing the problem, if anything you should be happy – think of what I suspected, then remember what I did. Nothing, nothing at all until you forced my hand. You should be glad, I could have sent you away, locked you up, disowned you, made your life so unpleasant you wished you’d never been born, but no, I did nothing. Nothing, even though it tore my heart in two.”
“Let me guess – I’m supposed to be thanking you for your kind benevolence?”
“Not quite, but I’d have thought you’d have seen the value in gentleness.”
“All you did was condemn me with no chance to defend myself. You made no effort to check you were right, you just assumed, because you don’t trust me.”
“Give the matter some thought, and I’m confidant you’ll see things my way. Now it’s very late, and you’ll be spending most of tomorrow in chains, so I’d suggest we go back to sleep, rather than fight over this. Consider that a very strong suggestion, you’ve nowhere else to go and I’m not letting you away from me when there’s some assassin out after us.”




I'm beginning to feel distinctly mean.

This part took forever because I'm busy, it actually only took a couple of hours to hammer together.

Good work, Froggy. I like the way the plot 'thickens', with the reader knowing things that Culad knows not but really needs to know. You should try to do that more often.

However, I am a bit amazed that Fionnghualla is trying to blackmail Donchad. I would think Fionnghualla's plot would fall to pieces if Donchad gets a chance to talk to his cousin in private.
Who does she think Culad will believe: Donchad, who is his cousin, confidant and life long friend, or her, a kinslayer and not particularly liked by Culad's wife?

You will be pleased to hear that the plot thickens and continues along the 'ignorant Culad' line in the future, oh yes...

Fionnghualla and blackmail...she'd insist she's far above such a patethic tool, and that she is merely stating what will be. Perhaps in this case she is right. She is outlining a very efficent, low cost and low damage way to trap Sigtryg's agent and take him alive for questioning, as well as make it clear to Sigtryg that Nuala is too closely watched to be of further use to him, without making it obvious Nuala was a double agent.

Who will Culad believe? The cousin who does wild things with little thought? The man who is desperate to save his beloved wife from charges of high treason? The man who is guilty by association, and failure to do anything? The only way Donchad can explain his lack on interference with Nuala's activities is to say exactly what Fionnghualla wants him to - the truth. Fionnghulla, on the other hand, was recommended by Margaret (who is still stuck in her rooms, all but oblivious to this), is obviously highly skilled, has the word of several guards and agents to back her up, and plenty of evidence. And what of Nuala? Somehow I doubt she'd tamely sit by and allow Donchad to claim he never suspected her at all, she's far too peed off for that. It all ends up playing out to Fionnghualla's prediction anyway, but with a lot more damage done to all parties.

Fionnghualla is outlining the best possible plan, but with her own nasty wording to make it sting.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by [b

Quote[/b] (frogbeastegg @ May 29 2004,22:38)]Who will Culad believe? The cousin who does wild things with little thought? The man who is desperate to save his beloved wife from charges of high treason? The man who is guilty by association, and failure to do anything?

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*whipping cream* The plot thickens... http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...icons/flat.gif

this is a good story i will be watching this one http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...s/bigthumb.gif

nice job as usual, froggy http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...s/bigthumb.gif

I was actually a bit confused by Fionnghualla, with her name so similar to Fionna and everything.

any suggestion of a doppelganger of some sort that has both sides having the same spymaster?

Donchad kept pace at his cousin’s side as they answered the summons to ‘an important matter requiring immediate attention from your Lordship’. Privately wishing Culad would walk faster, Donchad occupied himself thinking of imaginative ways to ‘thank’ Fionnghualla for her decision to play out this drama in the middle of Culad’s great audience chamber in full view of the entire court. As the great doors swung open Donchad didn’t need to fake his reaction to finding Nuala under arrest, his shock on seeing his wife with bound hands, flanked by a pair of burly, heavily armed guards and sporting a collection of bruises, scrapes and a bandaged left hand was real. He started to run forwards, crying out, “What have you done to her?” One of the guards stepped over to block his path, “She resisted arrest.”
“Get out of my way” He may as well have been talking to a statue for all the reaction he got, but when Donchad tried to slip sideways past him, the ‘statue’ blocked him again. Donchad pushed the man, trying to force him clear; “I’m the duke’s marshal and second in command of all Ulster’s armed forces, now get out of my way”
“I’m sorry sir, but I’ve orders and I’ll follow them.” The guard lowered his spear point threateningly towards Donchad, as did the other guard.
Culad intervened, with visions of Donchad pushing the matter until he got stabbed, “Enough Let the man talk to his wife.” he turned to the room at large and demanded, “Now will someone tell me what in God’s name is going on here?” Donchad ignored this, finally reaching Nuala’s side and enquiring quietly, “What happened? Are you alright?”
“I shouldn’t have tried to run, they tripped me up with a spear butt.”
Donchad rested his hand atop her bandaged one, “And this?”
“I cut my palm as I landed, I hit the ground hard.”
Fionnghualla’s strident voice caught Donchad’s attention. “Lordship I bring to you the main two people responsible for the wave of underhand acts Sigtryg has struck us with. That man,” Fionnghualla pointed at the ‘pedlar’ who was also present, bound and well guarded, without stopping her speech, “Has corrupted and conspired with Nuala to weaken and destroy Ulster. He is the brains and she the tool, he plans and she follows, together they are responsible for the death of Ayd, the near death of Donchad, the burning of our crops and supplies, the theft of sensitive documents-”
“That’s a lie” burst Donchad, unable to listen any longer, “He may have done this, but not Nuala”
Fionnghualla was expecting the interruption, “You deny that she’s been keeping strange hours? That she’s been acting strangely and secretively? Meeting someone in secret? She’s surrounded by odd coincidence in that all near her of import have a run in with death – you yourself nearly died, do you deny this?”
The silence stretched out for a long time before Donchad admitted defeat, “No.” Culad looked at his friend, stony faced and mistrustful, “You knew, and said nothing?”
“I…I knew, but I thought…differently.”
“Really?” Culad’s resentment at being forced to suspect Donchad because of his kinsman’s actions was obvious, “Thought what, that let you keep silent when all in my council knew of this threat and were ordered to report any small clues?”
Donchad tightened his hold on Nuala’s hand, crushed at being forced into following Fionnghualla’s plan after all, “I thought she was seeing another man.”
A voice from the audience called out in disbelief, “And yet you ignored it? Hah, a poor excuse You must think us fools to believe we’d fall for such as that” Donchad looked wretched, Culad glared at him and demanded, “Well?”
“I thought it was for the best. To act was to risk making her hate me, and I couldn’t bear that. I left the way open for her to come back to me with no known damage done.”
The owner of the disbelieving voice shouldered his way to the front of the audience, it was a newly arrived young man called Seoán, who’s his fiery temperament was only matched by his fiery red flushed face, “More foolishness – I say he knew of this and was part of the plot”
Old Gofraid added a calming voice to the growing murmur of discontent, “Is it really so strange? The young are prone to foolish acts, as are those in love, and those possessing a reckless nature. Donchad here is all three, and we all know him to be so. I’d be more amazed if he’d stopped to think on what this might really mean.”
Seoán wasn’t finished, “If he’s as bad as you say then why’s he marshal? He’ll lead our armies to disaster one day – better to replace him with someone fit to command.”
“Someone like you?” asked Gofraid mildly, “I’m thinking you’ve not heard, or seen, Donchad’s great valour in battle.”
“Valour’s nothing when leading, it’s fine enough for an individual solider, but a commander needs real skill, not the brainless ability to crack skulls.” Seoán spat on the ground, “I’m thinking I could beat yon curd brained oaf in one on one combat anyhow.”
Donchad’s hand flew to his sword hilt and he drew the first few inches of steel, “You’ll have chance to do just that, for I’ll listen to no more of your bile filled nonsense”
Once again Culad was forced to step in to prevent his audience chamber turning into a battleground, “Stop it, both of you” he turned to his cousin, “Seoán’s right, you’re a curd brained oaf. Gofraid’s also right, it’d be odd if you acted differently.” Culad turned to Fionnghualla, “I hope you have evidence to back up what you say.”
“I do, Lordship, I am satisfied that you bring this matter to trial here where all can see, so none can say we deal behind closed doors.”
“We?” repeated Culad.
Fionnghualla bowed her head slightly, “I mean we as in Ulster, not as in we personally, Lordship.”
“So be it, bring your evidence.”

The presentation of the evidence lasted several hours, with many witnesses being brought out to give their testimony, and letters and spy reports being presented to the court. The whole time Culad listened carefully, not looking at either Donchad or Nuala, it was as if they didn’t exist. Finally it was time for him to give his verdict, he stood up and spoke clearly, “I’m satisfied that man is Sigtryg’s creature, and that he has done all that is charged against him. Let him be hanged now.” He paused and took a deep breath, “I’m also satisfied Nuala is innocent of half these charges, but only half. She was indirectly involved in murder, and she turned traitor without even trying to raise the alarm. I own that she was under extreme duress, but that makes no difference to Ayd. The law is clear – a life for a life.” Donchad was one of many raising their voice to decry this verdict; the whole chamber erupted with people calling Culad harsh, and blood hungry. The duke held up his hands, and demanded silence. He had to repeat his request several times before he could be heard properly, and even then he still had to shout, “The law is the law and I will uphold it equally for all I am a just man, and the law is justice and applies to all, no matter how high or low Let it be seen I will act even when it hurts me to do so, that I hold no favourites” The chamber filled with shouts of “Shame”, and refused to comply with Culad’s repeated orders for silence. Thinking to get this over with quickly, Culad gestured to the closet guards to take the two prisoners away. The pedlar was lead out to die, kicking and struggling, but without incident from the throng. The guards refused to go near Nuala, partly in fear of the crowd, and partly because Donchad had his sword drawn and was threatening to kill any who laid so much as a finger on her. Culad stepped forward himself, thinking to persuade his friend out the way, but found Donchad’s sword point aimed unwaveringly at his chest. His cousin kept himself between Culad and Nuala, and said, “Even you, one finger and I’ll kill you.”
“You won’t do this.” Culad took a tiny step closer, Donchad’s sword rested on his clothes, just below his breastbone.
Donchad didn’t waver, “I thought the same of you.”
Seoán appeared behind Culad, and dragged him back, away from the sword, before saying to Donchad, “For shame Drawing steel on your lord, think of what you do” Sorrow was evident in Donchad’s voice as he replied, “When my lord breaks faith with me, I must break faith with him and he is my lord no longer.” If Culad said anything it was lost in the roar of the crowd, calling for a reprieve for Nuala. Fionnghualla spoke just loudly enough for Culad and those near him to hear, “The people have spoken, and found your verdict flawed. You risk revolt if you continue this course, let her go to house arrest under Donchad’s care.” Culad looked about him, at the angry crowd, at his resolute cousin, and finally at the petrified Nuala herself, and his resolve gave way, “So be it, let it not be said I am unmerciful.” Those close enough to overhear this change of heart passed the news to their neighbours, and soon the whole room knew and erupted again, but this time into cheers. Donchad cut Nuala’s hands free and sheathed his sword, before drawing her close to him and starting towards the exit, ignoring Culad totally. The duke shouted, “Where are you going?”
Donchad halted, and half turned, “Back out to my manor, away from you.”
“You can’t just up and leave, you’re my marshal”
“Your marshal, not your dog that you can whistle to heel.” Donchad started walking again, with Nuala still tucked in close at his side.





Again I've been busy, hence the delay.

That part features cats being put amongst pigeons, and we see Nuala showing off bad sides again, this time Culad's. A need to be fair and neutral, let run away to ridiculous extremes so it becomes unfairly harsh.

Thank you, caesar010 http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...ons/ht_bow.gif

:looks at the cream Axeknight is whipping: Quite thick, but I think it can stand to get a little thicker with some more time.

katank, Fionna and Fionnghualla are definitely two seperate people, although it would be fun if they weren't... :imagines spymasters running from one end of Ireland to the other for a meeting, then swapping clothes and running back:

Fionna is actually a spelling mistake, she should be Fiona but by the time that was pointed out it was a bit late, so I just pretend it is a Celtic variant spelling http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...ns/gc-grin.gif

Names are a big problem for this story, I have a pool of about 70 names, both male and female, provided by the game. All the main characters bear the names the game has given, that includes Fionnghualla. The secondary characters, like Fionna and Gofraid, mostly have names provided by the game, but some were renamed becassue they had the same name as someone else. Ayd was originally Aed, just like the ex-vassal. The characters who were entirely made up by me are limited to names that aren't used already, either now or in the future, and to names that are usable. If the character only needs to be named a few times, like Seoán it doesn't matter if they have accents in the spelling as I can copy and paste easily. If they are going to hang about they need a name I can actually type myself, and there aren't many of those left.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by [b

Quote[/b] (frogbeastegg @ May 30 2004,20:00)]:looks at the cream Axeknight is whipping: Quite thick, but I think it can stand to get a little thicker with some more time.

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So are looking at butter-thickness? Cheese? This metaphor getting crazily out of hand? http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...c-confused.gif

Very exciting bit. Nice to see Doncho stand up for himself for once.

Well I suppose thickness depends on how you view cuckoos, amongst other things...

Today’s part is proving interesting, I keep writing scenes then deleting them. Some things are best left referred to rather than seen, even if they are fun to write in a strangely perverse way. Those scenes showed vital things, but if included they were really…too much - too over the top, too mystery destroying, too bold, too hard to balance so all the characters came out sympathetically. I’ve finally hit on the first scene today that needs to stay put, you may see something this evening, if everything goes smoothly. I’ve already written about 7 pages today, and it’s all gone in the bin, if the pace keeps up this bit should be done today.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by [b

Quote[/b] (frogbeastegg @ May 31 2004,19:57)]I’ve already written about 7 pages today, and it’s all gone in the bin,

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Keep it. Even if it never goes in the story, it could be a useful reference point http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...icons/wink.gif - I hate having to look through all my previous pieces just to make sure, say, that Fitzjohn's hair is brown with a few greys in all four parts http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...cons/gc-no.gif . It's probably a good idea to keep the bits that need reffering to rather than writing about locked away in a dark corner in case they're needed.

April 4 1067
“So they’ve fallen out.” mused Sigtryg, “Excellent…yes, indeed excellent news. I said Nuala would be handy, and as ever I was right, even if this wasn’t what I anticipated.”
“You new orders, Lordship?” enquired Fionna.
“Margaret will be back in a few days from now, let’s watch and wait…try to keep Donchad angry with Culad. If those two are split our life’ll be far easier.”

May 3 1067
“I thought I’d find you here.” said Margaret as she sat down next to Culad under an apple tree in the orchard outside the castle. Culad said nothing, but put an arm about her waist and pulled her over until she was resting against him. Margaret continued neutrally, “I heard you got a reply from Donchad today.”
Culad spoke morosely, “He refused to come back. He says he’s already following orders, keeping Nuala well guarded at home, and to move is to risk her escaping and running off to join the frogs in the garden pond, and aiding their bid to rule the earth and take our place as God’s chosen species.”
“Let me see what I can do.”
“Do as you please, for I’m sick of trying. Some days I wonder why I bother…I wonder about dumping the title and running off elsewhere to live in peace.”
“What would you do?” asked Margaret, more amused than anything.
“Oh I don’t know, I could tend apple trees or somesuch…I like peaceful orchards.”
“The ex-duke of Ulster, living in some wooden shack in an orchard with one of the last in the Atheling royal line, along with a son who’ll grow up missing his birthright. Sounds like a disaster in the making.”
“He wouldn’t miss a thing.”
“You plan on leaving our nearly two-month-old son on the throne while we nip off?”
“Not a chance, more like he’d have the sense not to hunger after this title and its troublesome burdens.”
“As a boy you never thought being duke would be fun? All the giving orders and wearing nice clothes, conquering your foes in glorious battle? Somehow I don’t believe that.”
“You’re right, all I saw was the good, and so will GillaÍsu. I never thought I’d be forced into condemning my friend’s wife to death, only to be overturned by the crowd.” Culad’s dull mood gave way to petulant fury, “They’re damned impossible If I’d let her go in the first I’d be accused of favouritism, if I’d had her killed anyway I’d be overly harsh, if I keep the law I’m wrong, if I ignore it I’m wrong – I can’t win”
“You condemned her to show you apply the law equally to all, right?”
“Yes.” replied Culad reluctantly.
“Then you were applying it unequally, killing her to prove you’ll act the same with anybody. If she’d been some unknown peasant you’d have chosen differently. Because you backed down you’re known for keeping to the letter of the law, but showing mercy when asked with good cause, as well as listening to your people.” Culad made no reply, sinking deeper into his despondency. Margaret decided he had spent more than enough time in self pitying gloom since Donchad had left, “It’s just over a year now since we were sat here that first time, dodging the party crowds and predatory girls.”
Culad replied half-heartedly, “I wonder how that brunette’s getting on with her religious vocation, none so well I’d guess.”
“She ran away, climbed up and over the back wall of the convent with the aid of a lay servant she’d batted her eyelashes at until he forgot his comfy job. They stayed together for a bit, until she got chance to aim at a minor noble and, well you can guess the rest.”
“You let her escape? What if she’d come back after me?” asked Culad, this time with a bit more life.
Margaret smiled impishly, “What would it matter? I find the sight of a hapless, brawny duke being chased about by some fragile looking beauty rather amusing, and totally harmless as I know there’s only one suicide case – me.”
“Harmless?”
“The running keeps you fit, it also gives you something to do when you might otherwise get bored and start distracting me from my work.”
“It’s good to see all those months shut away in a dark room haven’t robbed you of your wit.” Culad put one hand on either side of her face, and kissed her ardently, unseen by Culad Margaret reached behind her and groped for a little prematurely fallen apple she had spotted lying on the ground as she walked over join him. Just as Culad leaned to catch his breath her fingers closed about the apple. As Culad moved to kiss her again she quickly grabbed his chin, pulled his mouth open and jammed the apple in, her eyes gleaming as she crowed, “I’ve kept my wit, but you’ve got complacent.”
Culad bit a chunk out of the apple, pulled a face at the tongue hurting sourness, and threw the rest away, “So much for motherhood tempering you, GillaÍsu owes me five silver pennies.”
“Our son’s not yet two months old and already you’re corrupting him”
“The bet was his idea, don’t blame me…if anything the boy’s corrupting me, for I’ve never had an interest in gambling before.”
“Why is it I now feel like I’ve got two sons, both of them badly behaved?”
“Let’s see…” he picked up one of her hands, checked it was empty and held onto it, before doing the same with the other hand and stating, “Completely disarmed.” Still holding both her hands he kissed her again. Margaret raised an eyebrow, and asked, “Completely disarmed?” and gently kicked his ankle. Culad looked rather put out, “So not completely disarmed, next time I’ll wear my thick leather boots - if they can withstand battle they can survive you easily enough.”
“Subtly is lost on boots.” observed Margaret sagely. Culad stepped around that comment, unwilling to ask what it meant, “We never did get that sunset last year, and it’s only mid morning now, so how’s about we both run off like a pair of delinquent schoolchildren for the rest of the day and wait it out?”
“And leave the castle in an uproar over its missing lord and lady?” Margaret stood and extended a hand to Culad. As he took it and clambered to his feet she said, “Only if we stay out all night too, it’s traditional to wander back early the next morning with a stupid smile on your face to infuriate those who have been out searching for you.”
“Deal, but we’ll forgo the bits involving stealing food and sleeping in a hedge, I ceased to find that adventurous when I was nine. We’ll just commander a good inn for the night. You think the patrons will complain if we boot them out?”
“Oh undoubtedly.” replied Margaret glibly, “We can buy them a drink or two first.”




She's back, really back, back properly oh joy - Margaret's back and in fine form I'm one happy froggy, I missed her terribly. None of the other characters can make up for her, I like all my main characters (yes, even Nuala has wormed her way to my heart now, right about the point Donchad nearly downed) but she is special. http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...cons/mecry.gif

Please excuse the frog joke, I just couldn't resist. Those warmongering frogs are nothing to do with me, I'm a peaceful amphibian http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...icons/frog.gif

Axeknight - too late I binned it as soon as I decided it wasn't right, I've done that with all the bits and pieces that didn't make it to the story proper. I keep a seperate document with names, details etc in so I can keep track of minor characters...I started that when I realised :mumbles embarrassedly: I killed Ayd twice, he died when Donchad found out about Nuala being pregnant, and again recently It should have been Mathgamain who got lured to his death by Nuala. http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...ns/gc-wall.gif

64 pages long now, and only a year and 5 months covered. So much for my original 20 page estinate for Culad's life

good job as usual http://www.totalwar.org/forum/non-cg...s/bigthumb.gif

I thought the falling out was merely smokes and mirrors though. Is it for real as Culad's implying?

Yes, they have really fallen out. Culad was trying to be just, Donchad took exception to his friend trying to hang his beloved wife, and it's all a bit of a mess. Culad's still playing duke, sending orders to Donchad to return, and Donchad is ignoring them and sending back stupid excuses (Nuala joining a froggy empire), and neither will give way as they beleive the fault is mostly the other's.

Can the situation be salvaged? Well you can probably guess, but nothing will ever be the same again...