Safeguard our kin and cattle: a Sweboz AAR (Anglish)

[Cadwalader]

Hail, Europa Barbarorum fans! As I am a person with a lot of time on my hands, I thought I would get in on this AAR business. For my campaign, I chose my favourite faction, the Sweboz.
How will this AAR stand out among the many other Sweboz AAR? Well, as a novelty, I thought I'd try writing it in Anglish.

Anglish is a conservative version of English that seeks to
rid it of foreign (sorry, outlandish) words. So as I write
my AAR I will shun the outlandish words like the... sickness? Ah, see, that's
where it gets hard. Luckily I've this online dictionary (ahem, wordbook)
to help me choose the right words.

Other rules:
1. My warleaders will only use clever ploys in war when he has more than
three stars of skill in warcraft. Otherwise he will attack head-on and
screaming bloody murder!
2. I will take my good time and avoid blitzing. Maybe the theuta will
be brought together under my now king, maybe not.
3. The story of the Sweboz raven-feeders will be told by a kingsman (or woman).

I might try to use alliterative verse from time to time. I hope it won't be too unbearably bad.

And if you spot an out-of-place word, be sure to let me know.
Alright then, I'll start off with a short introduction:



Hail, wanderer. I am Hagaradaz, skilled in speechcraft, wordbearer and kinsman of the mighty king.
Hear now the tale of the mighty Sweboz, the mightiest warriors in our lands:
We are a gathering of the strongest folks in these lands. Our lot
is greater than that of all other men, for we shall have lordship
over all other folk, and we shall bring the wealas to their knees and
rob them of their gold and wives.



Our foes are many and strong. Nearest to us live our old foemen, the folk
that speak our tongue and live like we do. Rather than fight them we should
fight with them; make them our kindred and give them a place in our
fyrd. Their spears should drink the blood of outlanders before
that if their kinsmen.


Farther away live the wealas, men who speak other tongues than we and live
in great towns, where they drink wine and none must starve. Their kings
wear red gold about their necks; we should be
that blessed. To the west live the ones we know; often have our warriors
plundered their rich lands. They are soft, yet they are also many. Their
men carry swords of blue steel and iron byrnies. That is why we need to bring
all men to our cause. Far to the South lies mighty Romeborg. Few of our
men ever ride this far into the soft lands. Farther still can be found the
Grecland and the lands where blue men worship snakes and dogs. Beyond those lands live men
with one eye, six hands and seven cocks, or so the traders say. The wealas
always want more of our red burnstones that wash up on our strands now and again.

Our own lands are enough for now. They are vast, but will not be enough for ever.
Our king's headstrong brothers are out in the field, taking their warriors to our neighbours' lands...